#from that kids show that i watched while knowing that it is not made to appeal to me at all

[dcxdpdabbles]

#holiday request Sorry, it's me again! I't just that I really, really love your writing and I forgot to mention "Alley boyfriends" and "Alfred's Boy". If you could update either of those I would be very grateful <3 <3 <3

The first sign that something is wrong is finding Damian with a bow and arrow in the tallest room at Wayne Manor. Or, more specifically, seeing the boy aiming the arrow out the window in the direction of Dick and Danny cuddling in a backyard hammock.

Thankfully, he had been fast enough to snatch the arrow from the air before it went anywhere near the cuddling duo. Damian insisted he wasn't aiming for either of them- just the strings holding the hammock up.

The reason? Dick had gone over the agreed-upon cuddle time, and Damian wanted to make him stop. Bruce knew it was just because he was jealous.

Bruce had seen his youngest making doe eyes at Danny earlier that morning while the boy was doing his daily chores. He's been more energetic since Wes left and was willing to share his half-human status with the Wayne household after a talk with Alfred.

All of his children took the news well. They had many teammates who weren't human, but Bruce could tell Danny was still afraid to tell them the truth. Despite the many times Danny provided support in the Batcave and knew of said teammates, he still feared that he would be the exception to their acceptance.

It seemed his parents had left more prominent scars than Danny had been willing to show.

After a brief but vague- Alfred made it a point that his contact did not want Danny stating what he was until it was safe to do so- the Waynes got the gist that Danny needed cuddles.

Almost all his youngest had quickly offered their services, but Alfred and Bruce stopped it. The two men created a cuddling schedule, like a meal plan, to help Danny regain a healthier state, along with the few older ones, excluding Jason.

His second eldest had been highly offended to not be on the schedule, but Alfred calmed him with a whisper. "Think about how hilarious this will be to watch?" Jason had returned to his romance novel, cackling like a loon.

He was easy to manipulate.

Alfred forbade Bruce from telling Jason about Danny's slight crush. The reason was that Clockwork had already spoken to Alfred about it being a passing fancy, and it was safer for Danny's kind to not be rejected until later. Bruce burned with many questions, but he would never dare investigate Alfred or his affairs.

He respected him too much.

Now, if only his kids would behave.

"Damian Wayne, we do not shoot arrows at our siblings." Bruce scolds, wagging a finger at the boy's pouting face.

"But you let Drake throw a spoon at Girl Row!" Damian whines, crossing his arms. In moments like this, Bruce is violently reminded that for all his advanced vocabulary and intelligence, his son is still a fourteen-year-old teenager who could act childish.

"I did not let Tim do anything. He's ground for throwing things at Harper." Bruce sighs, rubbing his right temple. A pounding headache was starting to build up there. "Just because she came to watch Danny's cooking lesson with Tim and Cullen and chose to give Danny a quick snack with her hug does not mean Tim had a right to throw utensils."

"It wasn't even aimed at her head," Tim mutters from the hallway. His punishment for his behavior was that he was to stay within the six feet radius of Bruce. It was the only surefire way to ensure Tim wasn't up to something, like working on case work or plotting to overthrow a small government.

Bruce would break out the kid's leash if he tried to run again.

It was hilarious when Tim was thirteen, and the kid leash still had the same threat level at seventeen as it did then.

"That's another week," Bruce tells him.

"What!? I didn't even do anything!"

"Two weeks."

"Come on!"

"Three weeks." Bruce drawls, which causes Damian to smile until his father looks him in the eye. "I don't know why you seem too amused. You're grown for two weeks as well, young man."

Damian throws his arms up, wisely keeping his mouth shut as he steps with Tim. Now Bruce had two kids he couldn't let out of his sight, and they did something crazy. He marches them out of the room towards his office, where he plans on getting some work done and putting them both to do some extra class studying.

They pass by Jason, who looks like the cat that got the cream at their obvious grounding. He waves a couple of tickets in the air. "It seems like you brats are grounded. Too bad, I was about to invite you to show at the planetarium."

"Why would I waste my time there?" Damian scoffs as Tim glares. Bruce feels his headache growing stronger as Jason smugly proclaims.

"Danny is a huge star nerd. He was excited to finally see the show now that he was feeling better. He wanted us all to go together, but you'll have to miss it since you're still getting grounded at your age." Jason mocks, walking away while shaking his head. Bruce has only a few seconds to wonder why his second is like this, and then Tim and Damian explode with pleas to let them join the rest of the children.

He stays firm in their punishment, but he honestly doesn't feel safe by the way the two, right in front of him, start putting their difference aside and communicate with mere glances a plan of escape. Bruce wishes their corporation wouldn't come at the expense of his sanity.

He glances out the window, watching Dick and Danny talk, and it hits him suddenly that Dick is making that face he usually reserves for staring at baby ducks and baby elephants. His eldest was forming a deeper bond with the boy, which could mean several things, but the center of it all was what made him such a good leader.

Dick was breaching the walls Danny had built so strongly around him.

By tonight, Bruce would not be surprised if Dick started calling Danny his little brother. Coupled with the effort Jason put in to get Danny out of the house and around more people, the boy was healing in a way he so desperately needed.

He was so proud of them. Bruce is so glad the kids allowed him into their lives in moments like these. They saved him more times than he counted, and he does not, meanwhile, being Batman.

The kids saved Bruce Wayne, and he hopes they will save Danny Fenton similarly if the younger boy allows it. Not just because he's Alfred's boy but because he is a Wayne in a different shade.

Danny's face lights up with a smile, looking far more alive than ever before, and Bruce's eyes soften. Then they harden when he spots Steph creeping closer to the hammock from behind some bushes, a garden hose in her hand.

"No! No, no!" He shouts, running down the hallway with Tim and Damian behind. "Don't even think about it, young lady!"

[candycandy00]

General NSFW Headcanons for One Piece Men

These are just some general sex/intimacy based Headcanons for some of my favorite OP men. I left out Law and Kid until I see more of them post time skip.

Keep in mind these are just my personal opinions! These are all assuming a Fem Reader. Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

Luffy: 

I’ve noticed while rewatching/ catching up that this guy is a hugger. He’s not shy at all about giving out affection to people he cares about, and I think that would carry over to more intimate moments. He’d definitely be the type to snuggle up to you during sex, wanting to be as physically close as possible. He might even wrap his arms around you multiple times, not in a restraining way but in a “I just want to completely wrap myself around you” way. 

Some people seem to think Luffy would be completely clueless about sex, but I disagree. I think it’s very likely that Ace explained a few things to him. They were at perfect ages (17 and 14) before Ace set out for a big brother to tell his younger brother about stuff like that. Even if Ace had no actual experience himself, he had to have heard a lot of talk from the bandits. So I think Luffy is aware of the basics at least, and his instincts would cover for whatever knowledge he lacks. He’s surprisingly perceptive at times.

Zoro:

Zoro is the one who would be clueless. Not about the mechanics of sex, but about what you want. This man would miss every signal you send his way, so you’d have to literally state outright that you want to have sex with him. During the act, you’d have to be very clear about what you want him to do, at least the first few times. You’re better off just taking his hands or head and putting them where you want because this guy can’t follow directions to save his life. 

Once the two of you have had sex a few times and he’s learned what you like, he would be a great lover. Zoro puts his all into everything he does, and that includes pleasing his darling. One of his best points is his stamina. He could go for multiple rounds without breaking a sweat, so prepare for long nights.

Sanji:

He’s all about his darling’s pleasure. He’d get much more satisfaction from watching you cum than from cumming himself. He would have a massive praise kink, both giving and receiving. He’d also be clingy and want to be intimate in some way with you nearly all the time (though he’d be happy with just cuddling, giving massages, etc. if you’re too tired for sex sometimes). He’d definitely prioritize your needs and wants over his own, mostly because making you happy is what he needs and wants. 

I think he’s definitely a virgin, and he’s the type who will fall madly in love with the first woman who sleeps with him. Once he’s in love and in a committed relationship, he’s not going to be chasing other women. He’ll still notice a beautiful lady, but he won’t comment on them or visibly react, because he doesn’t want to upset his darling or make her feel insecure.

Usopp: 

This guy right here? He’s the one to keep your eye on. Because once he actually gets some experience, he’ll be one of the best lovers in the series. The first time he’s gonna be nervous and awkward, probably boasting that he’s had a thousand lovers whom he satisfied completely (while nearly fainting from nerves). But once he gets over those initial nerves, he’s gonna lock in on learning all the best techniques. When Usopp gets serious about something, he studies and practices until he’s great at it. 

I also have a headcanon that he’s got a huge dick (I mean, look at that nose) and just doesn’t know how to use it yet. Emphasis on yet. Give him some time and he’ll rock your world.

Franky:

The best thing about Franky as a lover is that he’s completely nonjudgmental. Have a wild kink you wanna try? He’s shrugging and saying sure, let’s go for it. Insecure about a part of your body? He’s showing you some crazy modification he’s made to his own just to prove all bodies are unique and wonderful. You’re never gonna feel shamed over anything with Franky, and that’s so freeing. The next best thing is that this guy will come equipped with all sorts of toys and gadgets to spice up the sex. If he doesn’t have what you want, he can just construct it on the fly. 

It’s hard for me to decide whether I think he’s had a lot of experience or not. I’m guessing he’s had some given his age, background, and being a self professed pervert. He seems like he would be a sex positive person, or maybe just see it as no big deal. Just another way to express affection. I think he’s pretty chill about sex, basically.

Brook:

Okay, so Brook is pretty limited by the fact that he’s a skeleton and has no dick or tongue to work with. But he does have those long pianist’s fingers, and he’d certainly be happy to use them to please his darling. As we all know, he also has a panty fetish, so the easiest way to get him riled up would be to model the cute new sets you bought. He’s still a gentleman though, so he treats his darling with care and respect, always asking for permission before touching you and making you feel valued. 

He probably had a decent amount of experience when he was alive, but he’s very new to being intimate as a skeleton. There would be some trial and error and he might get a little depressed about his limitations, but I think he’d get over it fairly quickly and just be happy to have someone special in his, uh, life.

Ace: 

In my opinion, Ace would be very warm and loving in bed. Very passionate. Like his brother, he’d be very affectionate with his darling. This is a man who places a ton of value on bonds, on loving and being loved. He’s definitely going to show how much he loves you, in the most intimate way possible. Think lots of eye contact, physical closeness, slow and very deep fucking. I don’t think he’d be the super romantic type to leave a trail of rose petals to the bed or whatever, but once the two of you are in bed he’s giving you his undivided attention and just enjoying the feeling of being inside you. Also kinda think he’d have a bit of a breeding kink. 

I think it’s highly likely he’s had some experience. He’s a handsome, likable guy who traveled around a lot by himself. Judging by how he blushed around Makino, it’s a safe bet he likes ladies. Specifically, pretty ladies who show him kindness. I don’t think he’d be shy or awkward but I can’t really see him acting like some arrogant sex god either.

Shanks:

Get ready for some sloppy drunken sex. I’m talking making out as you both make your way to the bed, tripping on stuff along the way and giggling like teenagers. You might not remember everything that happened, but you know it was fun! I somehow can’t picture Shanks settling down in a committed relationship but he would agree to being exclusive with you. So you guys wouldn’t be a couple but anytime he’s drunk and horny you’re the one he goes to. And if you’re in his crew, you’re probably half drunk yourself. But you guys have an agreement, so consent was already given. Shanks would give you a great time and be charming and funny, but he’s gone by the time you wake up. 

He’s definitely had an active sex life. He’s too charming not to. Too well traveled and handsome. And while some of his past lovers miss him, none of them regret their time with him and look back on it fondly.

Buggy:

Similar to Usopp, Buggy would be full of false bravado at first. But when it comes time to do the deed, he’s strangely shy. Buggy isn’t used to being loved and cherished. He hasn’t had that since he was a kid, so he’s going to need a lot of reassuring. You’d have to stroke his ego a bit to get him in the right headspace to have sex. But once you do, he’ll be a surprisingly sweet and giving lover. He’ll want to be a dom, but will usually end up being a bit subby to you. He’d probably become very emotionally attached to you if you give him a blowjob. Giving him any sort of kindness or genuine love will make him fall head over heels.

I’m torn between thinking Buggy is still a virgin and thinking he had some experience in his younger, wilder days. He doesn’t strike me as the type to have a lot of one night stands, but he could have had a relationship at some point that we just don’t know about.

Crocodile:

A lot of people want to see him as a brat tamer, and I see the appeal, but in my opinion he’d prefer a mature relationship. I think he’d want someone classy that would match his vibe. So he’s going to keep his darling dressed up in the finest clothes and jewelry. I have a headcanon that he’s a sucker for fancy lingerie. He loves buying it for you, seeing you wear it, and especially taking it off you, slowly, piece by piece. I also think he’d be into some light bondage. Nothing too elaborate, just tying your wrists together with his belt occasionally. 

For Crocodile, the most intimate act would be showering together. Because of his weakness to water, he’s incredibly vulnerable while showering, so he’s only going to invite you to join him if he trusts you completely. Doesn’t get more intimate than that.

Rob Lucci:

He’s going to be a very stoic lover, not very verbal at all in the heat of the moment, but his body will tell you all you need to know. He would be very primal, hands on your throat, taking you from behind, growling in your ear. But at the same time, he’s making sure you’re totally satisfied. Don’t expect an actual relationship with this man. He’ll rearrange your guts and then disappear before you can roll over. But he keeps coming back to you. He might even develop a soft spot for you, so long as you respect his privacy and don’t ask for a commitment. 

The bird stays in the room, but give it some crackers as a distraction and it won’t stare the whole time. 

[wonysugar]

g!p sugar mommy giselle🫦🫦🫦

g!p.... sugar mommy...... giselle..... ANON. holds you by the neck dearly thank you for this. also! it’s barely even mentioned at all but just know giselle is like 37ish and reader is in her mid-twenties. :]

cw : age-gap!

giselle as the sugar mommy you randomly met on your day to day minimum wage job at a fast food place MHMMM LET ME COOKKK..... having her be a regular who always comes in like once a week, always wearing something super fancy.. like a black prada trenchcoat or sometimes even a dolce & gabbana blazer. point is, she immediately stuck out like a sore thumb among the rest of the crowd.

plus, you found her undeniably gorgeous as soon as you laid eyes on her, so it's not like she'd go unnoticed otherwise, either.

she often approached you at the register and made small talk, as stupid as it often was. she'd find some stupid excuse not to use the self checkout machine and would find a lame conversation starter while you're watching her pull out a dior purse, proceeding with the payment of her order. that often lead to you asking her questions of your own.

"why do you eat here? you look like you have other.... better places to be eating at."

she'd chuckle at your words, finding them amusing, before answering in a gentle tone, "trust me, i do. my niece doesn't seem to think the same way i do, however, as she seems to really like this place. i appear to be the only one indulging her."

soon enough, you'd warm up to her with each visit of hers and the conversations would get much, much longer. so much so that, often times, your manager would have to step in and remind you to get back to work prompty. it got annoying quickly, as the conversations were just getting good; chatting about studies, travel plans, ambitions and goals, etc.

so, wanting to have these incredibly interesting exchanges in a more comfortable and relaxed setting, aeri asked for your number.

naturally.

who cares that she was like, ten years older than you. it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend… right?

numerous nights of friendly-texting-turned-flirty later, you two quickly agreed on a set date and location, which turned out to be a friday evening spent in the very expensive restaurant right across the block from your workplace. it was a date! she informed you to come in 'appropriate' attire, whatever that meant. how would you know? your closet consisted of hoodies, sweaters and some t-shirts as well as your work uniform. that being said, you showed up to the date wearing a low cute dark blue dress you found laying around in the darkest depths of your drawer for probably more than seven years. saying you were nervous would be nothing but a huge understatement.

she, on the other hand, came wearing a creamy white turtleneck under the black trench-coat she was usually seen wearing when ordering food at your job, the look topped off by wide legged black pants and really expensive looking black leather heels.

what the fuck are you doing.

getting cold feet, you nervously sat down at the table and bowed your head in her direction. intimidated by the light yet impacting amount of makeup she had on her face, you avoided eye contact as much as possible. she was breathtaking.

she told you to choose whatever you’d like on the menu and to not look at the price, as she insisted you not to worry at all about the bill. you, of course, felt guilty so you proceeded to pick the least expensive thing on the menu and attempted to convince her that you genuinely loved the dish, hence why you’d pick it among everything else.

who were you kidding though, you couldn’t even pronounce whatever fuckass french name it was that you picked to the waiter. she smiled at you as you finished ordering, making you turn red in embarrassment.

“you know y/n, i couldn’t bring myself to mention it in a place as unflattering as your workplace, no offence,” she started as you shook off the statement, practically agreeing with her before she continued, “but i must say that i think you are absolutely adorable.”

it gets to a point. and at this point you’re just short-circuiting at her words and intense eye contact, finding it difficult to even act properly in front of her!

she noticed that, of course, especially in times during the conversation where she called you endearing names such as “darling”, “love” and “honey”.

that wasn’t much different in bed, either.

as it turns out, you really did want her to fuck you at the end of the night! honestly, how could you not when she’d been opening every single door for you, insisting on paying for the entirety of the bill at the restaurant and offering to drive you home despite it only being a 10 minute walk?

she’d done nothing but drive you crazy all evening with her sexy and gentle manners, it’s only natural you gave her a sloppy handjob whilst she drove her grey lexus lx back to her own house with the pure intention of fucking the shit out of you.

…and she did! very well, at that!

two of her fingers deep into you, she circled your clit with her thumb and left gentle kisses on your jaw down to your collarbone. slow and steady pumps of the digits, she thrived in hearing your soft whimpers.

that didn’t last long, however. she was getting impatient, and her dick was aching to feel you.

ass up face down, you’re getting pounded relentlessly into the mattress before you know it. getting treated like nothing but a queen all night only to be later fucked like a depraved slut… it had to be the best thing you’d ever felt in a while. of course, you let her know of that with guttural moans that left your body with each thrust of her cock. she didn’t care, her house was big enough to muffle your screams, after all.

she whispered obscenities into your ear whilst you did so, gripping a fistful of your hair and humming at each sound that came out of your mouth. talking about how tight your cunt was for her, about how good it felt, how she couldn’t wait to use it every other day, about how she would kill to take care of a pretty little thing like you.

gripping onto your sides and ramming into you shamelessly as she drove you to your climax, you bit your lip until you felt like it was bleeding. her breathier heavier and each of her moans slightly higher than the previous, you both orgasmed together, a wave of euphoria washing over the two of you immediately.

oh and, you know what she said about ‘taking care of a pretty little thing like you?’ yeah, she meant every word.

soon enough, she’s taking you on dates every other weekend, referring you to a slightly better paying, less agonizing job thanks to the connections she possesses, sending you excessive amounts of money she labels as your ‘monthly allowance’ and overall spoiling you with whatever your heart desires. hell. she even payed your university tuition! she finds it endearing to see you always so shy and embarrassed to accept the money she gives you; you always go on about how ‘you don’t give her anything back’ and how it isn’t fair.

but to her, you do give back. your happiness and joy is what aeri does it for, and you give her great amounts of that. not only that, but you also give back by whoring yourself out and looking pretty for her. giving her unwarranted boners by sending her risky pictures and videos while she’s at work, having you wear the lingerie she buys you, knowing you use the toys she got you whenever she’s too busy to take care of you, etc. aeri could name nothing better than having you be the beautiful doll she gets to play with every now and then. :]

[rhyrhy]

Never Yours, Always Hers - A.A

Toxic! Abby x fem reader

⚠︎ Warnings: substance Abuse, emotional, psychological, (no physical!) Public humiliation (r!), sexual content!, Grief and trauma, harassment (r!), Manipulation, Wealth & Privilege, Obsession. Just overall darker themes! 10.3k words

✉︎ Authors note: Low-key exposing myself with my guilty pleasure of toxic! abby, But I write plenty others if this isn’t your cup of tea! otherwise enjoy!

⤷ Pt 1/2 - MDNI! - Mlist

Sweet Abbigail,

A smile of white, her parents adored. Large family portraits of the cutest little girl in the middle, freckles dotting her nose, a Burberry cardigan always a bit too big for her. Abbigail was a mommy’s girl through and through. Her mother, picture-perfect in her small doe eyes, was the epitome of grace. Abby always strived to be just like her. soft, sweet, and always under control. But behind the rose-colored glasses, cracks began to show faster than she’d ever expected. 

✈︎ The first time she saw it, she wasn’t quite sure why her mother would always take so long to make her father’s tea in the mornings. She’d wait her turn at the large dark oak dining table, her small hands clasped together as she watched cartoons, polished silverware reflecting a little girl desperate to have breakfast with her mommy like every other morning. But there was a stillness to the house that morning; Abbigail didn’t understand it at first, not until she noticed the way her mother’s eyes would linger a little too long on the kettle before she’d pour the tea. The silence was only being filled with the sound of a spoon clinking the sides of the mug. Sweet Abbigail learned to stop asking questions before they even formed in her wondering mind. 

✈︎ Her nights were no better. She’d toss and turn in her bed, the muffled screams and quiet chatter from her parents’ bedroom echoing down the large hallway. angry whispers and harsh tones seeping through the walls. It was an ugly rhythm, one she eventually learned to ignore.

✈︎ Growing up, her Elementary school was no better either. The principal stood in front of her, holding up a cut braid. The girl, some brat named Jessica Baldwin, just had to make fun of Abby’s artwork in class. Questioning her choice of colored glitter. 

“I’m just kidding, it’s a joke.” Jessica giggled, turning back to her project. Purple crayon in hand. 

Yeah, She didn’t find any of it funny. Watching Jessica’s dark braid taunt her as she faced forward. Her blue irises darted to the supposed ‘kid-safe’ scissors in her small fingers. That day, in a blur, Abby had absolutely pulled Jessica’s hair, snipping off her braid with said scissors as the class erupted in chaos. Her small hand covered her mouth to hide a small laugh threatening to add to the noise.

“I didn’t do it, Daddy. I swear!” Later that day after two phone calls. Abby begged, her voice trembling as she stood at the principal’s desk.

Her parents barely believed her, but they didn’t exactly punish her, either. They just… didn’t get it.  They never did. Her father’s brow furrowed in disbelief, while her mother’s eyes seemed too tired to even care.

✈︎ The name that had once been laced with sugar felt like a slap in the face. She hated it. She hated how her father would say it with that soft, adoring tone, as if nothing was wrong. Abbigail, he’d coo, always with that gleam of love in his eyes. But that love felt empty now. So, now in her high school years she had zero tolerance for it.

“Jesus… do you need me to spell it? It’s A-B-B-Y” she snapped, her voice sharp, filled with a venom she didn’t even know she had. “Stop fucking calling me that.”

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ Throughout high school, Abby dealt with a lot of internalized homophobia. She would scold herself whenever she felt flustered around pretty girls, her heartbeat pounding in her chest when close friend Nora would redo her hair during class.It only became more apparent after her first time with a guy. They made out for what felt like two seconds until he got way too eager, and let's just say she vowed to never let a man stick his penis anywhere near her again.

✈︎ She knew she wasn't the girliest. She played tennis, had short finger nails, and manspread when she sat. But even with that under her belt, she would dismiss her feelings toward girls as a phase. At least that's what her father called it when she brought home Alessia Forbes, senior year. They'd shared a kiss behind the bleachers in 10th grade, and it forced Abby to face the music. Opening the door to becoming more comfortable in her skin and how she dressed, Abby started to embrace what felt right. She wasn't a fan of makeup or dresses. pants were much more convenient.

✈︎ Alessia, unfortunately, much like most in Abby's life, didn't stick around long. Abby should've known, though. Alessia's eyes always wandered when other girls were around-especially when Ellie Williams was in proximity. At Eastside Preparatory, bullying, fighting, or even petty beefs were immediately reported. They had a reputation to uphold, matched only by the ridiculous tuition parents paid. Abby couldn't stand Ellie, though. She didn't intentionally steer her girlfriend away, but she needed someone to blame.

✈︎ Abby was always quick to anger, and when Ellie-someone who pushed all her buttons— called her out on her behavior, things went south quickly. The two got into a physical fight that was so violent Abby had to transfer schools to avoid it tarnishing her record.

“Abbigail, what the hell were you thinking?!” Her father asked, arms crossed.

“A fight? You think we spend all this money for you to act like a barbarian while you’re supposed to be learning?” her mother scoffed.

Abby didn’t answer. She just stood there, jaw clenched, arms crossed over her chest like she could physically hold in all the things she wanted to say. Because what was the point? They wouldn’t listen. They never did. She wanted to tell them that Ellie started it, that she had no choice but to defend herself. That it wasn’t her fault she lost her temper. But she knew they wouldn’t buy it. Not when they’d already decided she was the problem. So she let them lecture her, nodding at the right times, staring at the floor when they threw around words like disappointment and irresponsible like they were facts written in stone. Flashes of that green-eyed bitch. causing her to dig her nails into her palms. By the time they were done, East Bench, Salt Lake, was already in the past. New York was an adjustment.

✈︎ Columbia was bigger, louder. People walked fast, like they had somewhere important to be, never sparing her more than a passing glance. It was a far cry from the bubble of private school back home, where reputations were currency and whispers traveled faster than wildfire. Abby liked that. She liked that no one knew who she was. That she wasn’t Abbigail Anderson, the hothead who got kicked out of Eastside Prep. Here, she was just another student.

✈︎ Her father had pulled some strings to get her in—of course he had—but Abby actually wanted to prove she deserved to be here. She kept her head down, went to class, and lifted at the gym in the evenings. It kept her from thinking too much. From remembering how things ended back home. She told herself this was good. That it was a fresh start. How much of her life she abandoned like it was nothing. It didn’t matter now.

✈︎ A new group of friends, her gold-plated Cabernet on her belt loop every morning, and hair breezing behind her. It was enough. Until it wasn't. Pushing herself into her studies and sports to keep her parents happy. She wasn’t sure if she was, though.

And that only deepened with the loss of her mother. But it’s what led her to you.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ Growing up, money was never a concern. Your parents liked to call it being “comfortable,” but in reality, your lifestyle was far beyond that. Their status placed them among the elite, working closely with others in their sphere—the world of wealth, class, and the quiet sin of greed.

✈︎ Your father, a renowned real estate developer, owned Wilson & Co. Properties, a firm responsible for some of the most extravagant hotels and high-rises in the country. Your mother, a former corporate lawyer turned philanthropist, ran the Wilson Foundation, a charity often praised for its generous donations yet quietly criticized for its selective philanthropy. So naturally, you found yourself with a golden spoon resting on your tongue.

✈︎ And then there was Jerry Anderson, a man you’d seen in the circle your father had. CEO of Anderson Biomedical, a medical research company specializing in ‘cutting-edge’ treatments for neurodegenerative diseases. He was as respected, a man who knew how to turn science into profit. The only thing he couldn’t save or hook up to more machines to buy time? His wife. 

“Sarah Anderson dead at 42”

“Anderson Biomedical CEO Faces Scrutiny After Wife’s Shocking Death”

“Gone Too Soon: Socialite Sarah Anderson’s Mysterious Passing Sparks Questions”

It was everywhere. Sarah, She was beautiful; every photograph you’d seen looked almost airbrushed. Probably due to all the Botox, but she was striking regardless. Little did you know she’d passed those beautiful features to a young woman who’d flip your world upside down. A recantation of her flesh. blue eyes that reminded you of the waters of Navagio during your holiday in Greece. Golden brown-blonde strands that seemed to always fall in place. Pink lips that always sat in a small pout. A jawline that you’d probably cut yourself on if you ever got the chance to run your fingers along it. That work of art was His daughter, Abigail fucking Anderson; The first girl your parents approved of, And the worst breakup of your life.

✈︎ You first spotted her in your all-black long-sleeve dress and roses in hand, head hung in respect. Her mother’s funeral. You felt out of place as you’d only met Jerry a few times at galas, but your family went. Everyone did.?It was sickening how many news outlets sat outside, pushing microphones in their faces. They were trying to grieve for God's sake. But conspiracies about their family always ran high. But the rumors had already spread like wildfire. The whispers in the halls, the hushed voices behind gloved hands. Sarah tried to poison him, you know. Slowly. Over months. Some said Jerry caught her before it was too late. Others claimed he staged the whole thing to cover up his own sins. Money laundering, apparently. It was a ridiculous theory—one you brushed off as gossip from people with too much time and too little to lose. But the one that made you pause? Abby’s last girlfriend left traumatized. You didn’t know the details, only that she left town suddenly and never looked back. No one could agree on what happened. Some swore she was just a jealous ex who wanted revenge. Others claimed she was scared. But Abby? She never spoke about it. Never gave the rumors life. You told yourself none of it mattered. Because when you saw her standing there, shoulders tense, trying to keep herself together under the weight of a hundred scrutinizing eyes, you didn’t see a monster. You saw a girl who had just lost her mother. It was ridiculous, you felt. Empathy, something your mother said you held ‘too much’ of. And it’s exactly what led you to next to her, the eulogy ringing out into the large room.

A droplet streamed down the freckled cheeks next to you.

You felt guilty for being so focused on how her brown eyelashes stuck together as they dampened with tears. the whites of her eyes pink. Her jaw tightened, an obvious strain in her body. The way her black dress shirt clung to her toned arms. The small bump on the bridge on her nose. Beautiful. The spitting image of her mother. Sandwiched between your families, Her knee pressing against yours. Yup, Your heart rate was definitely faster than usual. When—Your hand seemed to move on its own.

Her blue eyes flicked over the girl sitting next to her. Her first glimpse of you, a small sympathetic smile on your lips. Arm offering her a Kleenex to dry her face. You tried not to furrow your brows when she just …stared at you. You aren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but your fingers moved. Gently soaking her tears of salt into the tissue. Patting along her sharp features. A small thank you left her lips before she turned back to the next family member speaking.  Later that day. You found her sitting on a bench. Fidgeting with the ends of her hair.

“You look just like her. She was beautiful,” you said, offering Abby another tissue. She didn’t take it. Instead, she exhaled a shaky breath and leaned into your hand.

“She would’ve liked you,” she murmured, voice thick with grief. You stilled, taken aback, a small flush creeping up your neck. You weren’t sure what to say, so you just patted her face dry once more, letting the moment settle between you. One of many interactions to come.

✈︎ You and Abby felt like two magnets, always drawn back together no matter how much space was between you. At gatherings, in crowded rooms filled with bodies, your eyes would meet and every time, she made sure you felt like the only person in the world.

✈︎ She charmed you completely. Abby had a way of making you feel seen, like she was peeling you apart layer by layer just to admire what was underneath. Every compliment was so specific, so deeply personal, it felt like she had memorized you. She gave you gifts you mentioned in passing, sent good morning texts before you even had a chance to wake up, and called you just to hear your voice. “You make me feel normal,” she admitted one night, after sneaking you away from a party into the cool night air. and you clung to it, to her. not realizing how much weight she placed on you. You barely noticed the way she inserted herself into your world—how effortlessly she made you friends with Manny, how she reconnected with Nora and brought Jordan, Leah, and the rest of their circle into your orbit. These were the children of wealth and influence, kids who knew their parents would clean up any mess they made. Late nights blurred into early mornings spent in dimly lit bars, luxury penthouses, and hidden corners of clubs where their last names meant everything.

One night, Abby pulled you away from it all. Away from the noise, away from the people. She kissed you hard against the wall of her apartment, hands roaming like she was trying to memorize you-mapping every inch the way she did with her words. She was intense but careful, treating you like something fragile yet untouchable all at once. It was the first time in a long time that something in her life felt real. And it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

“Abs…” you breathed out. Her body engulfing was heavy like a weighted blanket. The feeling of her hands roaming your body, pure worship. Your head beyond spinning.

But Abby only pulled you closer, like she couldn't stand even a sliver of space between you. Her tongue slid into your mouth, desperate, like she was staking her claim. Fingers tangled in your hair, pulling, twisting— holding you there like she was afraid you'd disappear if she let go. It was heated, consuming. You'd never been tangled up like this before. And you never wanted it to end.

The gifts, the attention, her touch in all the right places. Abby made you feel like the center of the universe. And you needed it. She broke the kiss, panting, eyes dark with something that made your stomach flip. She looked at you like you were something holy, something made just for her. Her hands roamed your back, fingertips tracing patterns, memorizing, claiming.

"Fuck, I need you so bad," she breathed, voice thick, raw. "Now. Like right now."

And later, as she lay beside you, her arm wrapped around your waist like she could keep you tethered to her, she thought back to the past. To the girls who expected her to take the lead, to do all the work, to prove herself in a way that always left her feeling hollow. But this? This was different. You wanted her, you gave as much as you took, and it made something inside her tighten, coil, and refuse to let go.

Not now. Not ever

✈︎ Abby had her ways of getting what she wanted. It was never outright. never something you could point to and call unfair. Just little things. Offhanded comments that made you second-guess yourself. “You still hang out with her?” she’d say, half-laughing, half-serious. “I swear she has a crush on you.” Or, when you mentioned grabbing lunch with a friend she didn’t particularly like; “Must be nice to have all this free time,” Abby mused, flipping through her phone. “Wish I didn’t miss you so much when you’re gone.” It was always playful, never an argument. But over time, you found yourself hesitating before making plans. Weighing whether the fun was worth the look Abby would give you later. The passive sighs. The casual, “Oh, you were with her?” that left you feeling ridiculous for even trying to defend yourself. Then there were the things she didn’t even have to say.

────୨ৎ────

Like the way she leaned into you one night, cheek pressed against your shoulder as you scrolled through your camera roll. You loved moments like these. You just had no idea the chaos it would later awaken.

“Who’s that?” she asked, voice laced with casual curiosity.

“Hm? Her? That’s Dina, I met her through a friend.” You paused your scrolling, finger hovering over the screen.

“Wait—wait, go back. That picture.”

“This one?” You swiped back to a group photo—just you, Dina, and her girlfriend, who had tagged along that day.

“Pfft. Ellie. Offf course,” she scoffed.

“You know her girlfriend?” you asked, glancing at Abby.

“Our fists do,” she muttered. “She’s the reason I had to leave East Bench.”

“Oh.” You blinked, unsure what to make of that. You were years behind that, you felt.

“Just… be careful around her,” she added. “Girlfriend’s a bitch. She might be too.” She teased, bumping your arm.

“Hey! She’s nice. And you need to let that go. Grudge-holding ass,” you laughed, shoving her shoulder.

“Hey yourself, I have my reasons!” she chuckled, shoving you back.

✈︎ Dina was fun, always finding the best overpriced boutiques with hidden gems. The kind of girl who always had a spare hair tie when needed. It was a shame she started canceling on you more often. Eventually, she even unfollowed you on social media. You wanted to reach out. had you said something wrong? Forgotten a birthday? But she was just a new friend. You’d make more. At least, that’s what your doting girlfriend told you when you came to her upset about it.

“Go ahead. Say you told me so,” you sighed after explaining what happened.

“What? No.” Abby tilted her head, her expression unreadable, like she… already knew. She patted your shoulder, then looked up at you with a bitten back laugh.

“I told you so.”

“Abby!” you groaned, rolling your eyes. You two spent the rest of the day joking about it but it still hurt. Lingering subconsciously.

✈︎ What you didn’t know was that Abby had already decided you didn’t need Dina. You certainly didn’t need Ellie, either. Maybe she found Dina’s number while you were sleeping, sent a few texts telling her to stay away. Maybe she didn’t. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was you leaning back into her, letting her hold you, telling her how much you appreciated her. How much you loved her.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ God, she loved hearing you say it. The way you said it with no hesitation, holding eye contact, voice sending jolts through her body. It also didn’t matter the time of day or what you were doing. she needed to hear it. Yes, even when she was knuckles deep, listening to you whine and moan.

“Tell me you love me, baby,” she murmured, lips brushing your ear.

“Let me hear you.”

And when you did, breathless, pleading, her grip tightened.

“Louder, baby—uh huh, yeah, you fucking do.”

But how could you pick up on small things like that when your eyes were busy rolling to the back of your skull. This was love, passion, protection. she made sure it was drilled into your head.

────୨ৎ────


“No, baby. Not that one,” Abby said, shaking her head as she nodded toward your closet.

This was the third outfit she’d vetoed. You loved your sweet girlfriend—you really did—but moments like this made you want to strangle her. It had become a small pattern, one you were only now starting to pick up on. The way she’d tug down the hem of your skirt, make you do a slow spin before you left together, double-checking that you were covered in all the places she swore were only for her eyes to see. Your lower back. Too much cleavage. A glimpse of midriff. None of that.

And when she wasn’t subtly adjusting your outfits, she was replacing them altogether. Gifts—so many gifts. Gorgeous, expensive pieces that were impossible to turn down. Each one came with a sweet little note, the kind that made you feel silly for even questioning it. “Saw this and thought of you, pretty girl.” Or “Can’t wait to see you in this, baby.”

✈︎ Yes, the skirts were longer. The shirts—silky, high-necked, modest—were all designer.  Chanel, Burberry, Prada. And when winter came, she surprised you with the exact brown and black fur coat you’d shown her on Pinterest months ago. The excitement had nearly erased the lingering thought in the back of your mind. You began to think, maybe it wasn’t about keeping you warm. It was about keeping you covered. Pushing that aside, you’d buy her pretty things in return, but you noticed she preferred more intimate gifts. Like the stocking you made her on your first Christmas together, the one where you said “I love you” for the first time. Or the scrapbook you created, filled with candid photos of the two of you through the seasons. watching the backgrounds change from snow to rain to red leaves and to blooming flowers.

✈︎ She kept all of them. I mean, all of them. Even the tissue you patted her face with after her mother’s funeral. Yes, she kept that too. You didn’t know until one day, while you were cleaning up for her. something you rarely did since she was a bit of a neat freak. You saw the napkin, obviously used. Before you could throw it out, she took it from you. You blinked, unsure, but assumed she was going to dispose of it herself. Little did you know, you had made a much bigger mark on her than you realized. That day, she was staring at you, as if she were seeing her future. Did she ask you about any of her plans? No, of course not. She figured you’d be happy as long as you had her. Thoughts like that felt obscene in her mind. What she did ask, though, was:

✈︎ “You’re happy, right?” She whispered, tilting your face to hers, always satisfied with whatever answer you gave.

✈︎ “Oh, you remembered…?” She’d smile when you recalled even the smallest details of your time together.

✈︎ “You still love me, right? Even if we don’t always talk about it?” Yes, yes, and yes. No wasn't a word you had the heart to say to her. To your Abby? Your sweet partner, it was always yes. Even if you didn’t want to say it. It was never no. So today when she asked you to get dressed to go out with your circle of friends for a night on the water. You did exactly that.

────୨ৎ────

“Seriously, Abs? Do you even want me to go? You keep saying no to my—”

“That one is good.” Abby cut you off mid-sentence, her eyes flicking up and down your outfit, finally approving. You’d been playing dress-up for what felt like an hour, but it was never enough. You’d given in, slipping into something a bit more modest than you wanted, yet you couldn’t fight her.

“I’m convinced you want a nun for a girlfriend.” You sighed.

She stepped up behind you, hands firm on your hips as she leaned in, her chin rested your shoulder. Her voice was low. “Not a nun. Just Don’t want anyone else looking at you like that.” Her grip tightened slightly. She exhaled, her breath warm against your skin. “Just want you for me, that’s all.”

You felt too covered up for a late-night boat ride with friends, though. But you pick and choose your battles, right? If she was happy, you’re happy. You ended up tying the shirt to a crop when she wasn't looking. You loved your body; you were allowed to show it off occasionally.

Hand in hand, you drove to the port in Abby’s Jeep. The ride was quiet, too quiet. The engine hummed beneath the silence, and you kept your gaze fixed on the city lights outside, knowing it was easier than looking at her.

The glow from the dashboard reflected off her jawline, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips when you reached for her hand.

“Damn, what took you two so long?” A voice called out from the dock as you stepped onto the weathered wood. A man waved, his playful grin highlighted by the glow of the dock lights. Jordan, his thick black eyebrows furrowed, watched as you and Abby approached the small group.

You wanted to joke about Abby making you change a hundred times, but you knew better. That would only earn you a sharp look and a night of passive-aggressive silence. So instead, you just blamed it on traffic and stepped onto the Boston Whaler 285 Conquest, once owned by Abby’s grandfather, now repurposed for nights like these. Luxury, fun, and just enough recklessness to remind you all that nothing bad could ever really happen to people like you.

“Hell yeah, I brought the booze!” Leah’s voice rang out from the helm.

“Someone started early,” you teased, watching her twirl—bottles of something dark in each hand, her laughter cutting through the night.

✈︎ They had originally been Abby’s friends, but now they felt like your own. If Abby didn’t approve of someone, that meant they weren’t worth keeping around anyway. So this group of seven was plenty. Loud, wild, indulgent, always pushing the edge just enough to keep things interesting.

✈︎ First-world problems, boring galas, the bullshit drama of people you’d never really have to deal with—it was all fair game for ranting and laughing about, the alcohol keeping everything light and meaningless. Conversations blurred into one another, champagne bubbles mixing with cigarette smoke, the sharp tang of expensive whiskey clinging to every word.Someone was always telling a ridiculous story, exaggerating details just enough to make it funnier. Someone else was always half-draped over another, limbs tangled, faces flushed, a careless kind of closeness that came with privilege and too many drinks. The air smelled like salt water and perfume, luxury cologne, and the lingering haze of a freshly lit joint.

Abby smirked as you clung onto her, sinking into the plush cushions beside her. The boat glided over dark waters, the surface rippling like liquid ink, only touched by scattered moonlight. The engine’s steady hum mixed with laughter, the clinking of bottles, and the occasional squeal from someone almost losing their balance.

Across from you, Leah stood at the bow, gripping something long and thin.

“Is… that a fishing rod?” Abby called out, raising an eyebrow.

“Fishing? Dude, it’s pitch black!” Jordan laughed, shaking his head.

“What? I saw it, so I picked it up. No late-night snack?” Leah grinned, holding it up like she was about to reel in something huge.

“Ha ha,” Jordan scoffed. “C’mon, babe, sit down before you fall.”

“Yeah, Leah, seriously,” you added, casting a glance around. Everyone had collectively coated their stomachs with alcohol at this point. The boat swayed gently, but in your mind, everything still felt steady. Safe.

“Fucking party poopers,” she whined, stumbling as she made her way back.

The music pulsed through the speakers, vibrating under your fingertips as you traced circles over Abby’s knee. Someone passed you a drink, ice clinking against glass. The wind was salty and cool against your skin, and for a moment, everything felt weightless—just another night, just another story to laugh about in the morning.

Then before you could ground yourself, A deafening crack—wood splintering, metal twisting, the sickening crunch of fiberglass giving way as the world lurched violently forward. The force of it stole the breath from your lungs before you even hit the surface.

Bodies slammed against seats, railings, and the deck. Someone cried out—a sharp, guttural sound swallowed by the pure chaos. The boat groaned in protest, the hull splitting open as water rushed in, swallowing everything in its path. The night, once filled with laughter and careless drunken chatter, twisted into something unrecognizable. Screams pierced the air, panic rising like a tidal wave.

Then came the water.

A crushing, merciless cold that seized your body, shocking the breath from your lungs. It pulled you under, the weight of the crash dragging debris and bodies into the abyss.

Your vision blurred—dark water, fractured moonlight, hands reaching, grasping, then slipping away. And then, Leah was gone. But that wasn’t the name being screamed. It was yours. A shaky voice, frantic and desperate—Abby’s. Calling for you over and over.

The cool of damp grass pressed against your cheek, your vision swimming as you groaned and clutched your arm. A deep gash ran along the length of it, a sheen of red seeping through torn fabric, dark and wet against your soft skin. Tears blurred your vision—shock, pain, it was so fast. Overwhelmed. You gasped, struggling to sit up. Every muscle in your body ached, but you forced yourself to take in your surroundings. The front of the boat was completely smashed in, glass and debris scattered across the shoreline. The others were stumbling to their feet, coughing, calling out to each other in shaky voices.

“…I’m here,” you called out. “Abs... I’m right here.”

Abby all but collapsed beside you, grabbing your face with trembling hands, her wide eyes scanning you for injuries. You barely had time to process before she was pulling you against her, burying her face into your hair, the scent of her shampoo thick in your nose. The others were shouting now.

“Where’s Leah?”

“Leah!” Jordan’s voice cracked as he stumbled forward, scanning the dark water. “Leah, where the fuck are you?”

Panic settled over the group like a thick fog, replacing the drunken laughter of earlier with frantic movement. Flashlights from scattered phones cut across the water. Someone ran toward the wreckage, their footsteps crunching over broken glass and debris.

“She was right here—”

“Did she fall?”

“Fuck, fuck—she was just standing here—”

The shouts became more urgent, the terror in Jordan’s voice making your head spin even more. But Abby—Abby wasn’t looking at the water. She wasn’t calling for Leah.

She was looking at you.

Hands gripping your waist, scanning your face, as if making sure you were still there.

“You’re hurt,” she whispered, ignoring the chaos, her fingers brushing the blood on your arm. Her expression was unreadable—shock, concern, something else beneath it all. “We need to get you out of here.”

“Abby—” you wanted to bud in but She was already moving, hands fumbling for her phone, fingers trembling as she dialed. You could barely hear her over the panic, but the moment the call connected, her voice was sharp and urgent.

“Dad—” her breath hitched, her grip on you tightening. 

You barely registered the clipped response on the other end before she pulled the phone away, her face paler than you’d ever seen it. It was always the same with Abby. The moment things spiraled, the second the world tipped out of her control, her first instinct was to call her father.

✈︎ It didn’t matter what it was. A failed exam in school? Jerry. A bad breakup? Jerry. Someone disrespected her at some pretentious gala? Jerry. Even when she swore she could handle things on her own, her fingers always twitched toward her phone, her father’s number burned into her muscle memory. Maybe it was because she never really had to deal with the consequences of her own mistakes. Not when Jerry was always there to smooth things over, to fix what needed fixing, to make things disappear. It was almost like magic, the way he worked—whispers in the right ears, money exchanged behind closed doors, a well-timed favor cashed in. And now, even with something as devastating as this, Abby wasn’t thinking about what they’d done, what it meant. She wasn’t thinking about Leah. About the cold, dark water swallowing her whole. She was thinking about Jerry. About how he would clean this up, the way he always did. And maybe the worst part was that she was right.

Minutes later, headlights cut through the darkness. Jerry was already on the phone when he stepped out of the car, his expression unreadable, his voice a low murmur as he barked orders to someone on the other end. The moment he hung up, his sharp gaze flicked over the wreckage and the group of panicked, bloodied young adults before settling on Abby. Without hesitation, she moved toward him, her grip on you unrelenting.

Jordan wheeled around, panic-stricken. “What? No, we have to find Leah—”

Jerry barely spared him a glance. His tone was clipped, final. He turned to Abby. “We need to leave. Now.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Someone snapped. “We have to do something!”

But Jerry was already moving, grabbing Abby’s wrist, looking at you expectantly. “This isn’t something you want to be involved in,” he murmured. “Trust me.” The air felt thick, suffocating. Jordan was still screaming Leah’s name. Someone was sobbing. And Abby—she wasn’t arguing. She squeezed your waist, voice soft but urgent. “We have to go.” Your heart pounded as you looked between her, Jerry, and the chaos behind you. It didn’t feel real. None of it did. And then, as if deciding for you, Jerry pulled Abby away, guiding her toward the car. You hesitated—just for a moment—before Abby’s grip tightened on your wrist.

“Come on, baby. Please.”

And against every instinct screaming at you to stay, you followed her. You closed the door behind you. Letting your head fall against the leather seat. 

The car ride was filled with Jerry’s own interrogation.

You’d never been a witness to the Anderson back-and-forth before. But tonight, sitting in the backseat, still processing the night’s events, you had front-row seats. Jerry’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his voice sharp, slicing through the tense air. “You tell me what the hell happened.”

Abby was hunched forward in the passenger seat, still damp, her blonde hair clinging to her skin. She wiped a hand down her face, her breath unsteady. “It was an accident,” she muttered.

“An accident?” Jerry repeated, voice thick with disbelief. “Jesus Christ, Abigail. Do you understand what’s at stake here?”

Abby’s jaw clenched. “What was I supposed to do? Just let them call the cops? Let them search the boat?”

Jerry exhaled sharply through his nose, like he was holding back from snapping completely. His voice lowered, even more dangerous now. “And what exactly would they have found?”

Silence. Abby didn’t answer. Not right away. Her fingers tapped against her knee, a nervous tic you’d noticed before. You could almost hear the gears turning in her head, weighing what to say, how much to admit.

Finally, she swallowed. “I handled it.”

Jerry let out a humorless laugh. “No, you called me. And now I have to handle it.”

From the backseat, you sat frozen, hands gripping your lap, your own pulse hammering in your ears. Abby hadn’t even looked at you since you got in the car. Hadn’t reached for your hand, hadn’t asked if you were okay. All her energy, all her focus, was on damage control. And maybe that was the difference between the two of you. Maybe this should’ve been your warning sign. You were still thinking about Leah. Abby was thinking about herself.

────୨ৎ────

“Tonight: Leah Cross’ Death—Inside the Boat Crash That Killed NYC Teen”

“Leah Cross’ Family Settles for $15M Over Boat Crash”

“Jerry Anderson Ce—”

The TV screen flickered, then went black.

You turned your head just in time to see Abby hovering behind you, the remote still in her hand. The news channel was gone. Erased. Leah hadn’t just disappeared that night. She’d been thrown into the current. Her autopsy said she most likely died on impact, but you couldn’t shake the memory of her on the boat, twirling on the helm, throwing her hands up and yelling, “This is my shit!” to every song that played. The image wouldn’t leave. It haunted you. Your parents couldn’t get ahold of you that night—your phone had been tossed into the summer waters. But Jerry reassured them you were fine. He didn’t mention the 12 stitches in your arm. He definitely didn’t mention the alcohol, the panic, the way everyone had been too wasted to process what happened. Just fine.

That night never left you.

Maybe it was shock. Maybe fear. But you never asked Abby about the conversation in the car. Your sweet Abby had just been protecting you. That’s what she always said. You both had reputations, things on the line. That’s what she repeated every time you even looked like you were thinking about it. Jerry had shoved money down the Cross family’s throat. And they took every penny. You knew silence had a price. But family?

Abby hated when you brought it up. She made sure your arm was fixed up, kissed over every bruise. Whispered reassurances against your skin. And yet, here you were. Rolled onto your side, away from her Night was always the worst. Too much room for your thoughts to catch up to you. Too much room for questions.

“Abs…?” you murmured, rolling onto your back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah?” Her voice was hesitant, guarded. Like she already knew where this was going.

You swallowed. “Do… do you think about that night? Leah, she—”

Abby exhaled sharply, already shaking her head. “Why are you bringing this up again?” she muttered, rubbing a hand over her face. “We’ve been over this.”

“Abby, we didn’t even stay that night—”

“That was the right call,” she cut in, sitting up against the headboard. “We weren’t gonna stick around for the cops to start pointing fingers. What would that have done? Made you feel better?“

You swallowed hard, something bitter catching in your throat. “You aren’t even listening to me!” You pushed yourself up in bed, turning to face her fully. “You just keep shutting me down like I’m supposed to forget about it.”

Abby’s jaw clenched. “And what exactly do you want me to say?” she shot back. “That I think about it every night? That I see her face every time I close my fucking eyes? Because I don’t. I can’t. You shouldn’t either.”

✈︎ The words hit like a gut punch. Cold. Dismissive. Final. Just like every other time you tried to talk about it. Like your grief—your guilt—was an inconvenience. You stared at her for a long moment, something in your chest curling tight, twisting into something ugly and unfamiliar. Abby wasn’t going to hear you. She never did.

✈︎ And maybe… she never would. That was the moment you felt it. That stiffness inside you. The thing that slowly, quietly, began to push you away from her. She apologized later. Reassured you she was protecting you. But it didn’t feel like it. Her tone, the way she dismissed Leah, someone she claimed to love. it didn’t sit right. That night, you laid there, stiff in her arms as she curled around you, locking you in place. But it didn’t feel like her. The sheets felt cold. Her warmth wasn’t comforting anymore. The arguments only escalated. Until one day, you couldn’t take it anymore. You walked out her front door and didn’t look back. It hurt. Stung worse than anything else. But you had to grieve properly. Refocus on school. Reconnect with your family. Make your own friends. Find mental clarity. Space from Abby. The not-so-sweet Abby you once knew. But you were her lifeline. And when four days passed without a word from you, Abby’s fingers itched to have you back in her proximity. She texted once.

6:10PM Abby: Hey. You good?

Again.

6:40PM Abby: I know you’re mad, but can you just text me back? Please?

Again.

7:26PM Abby: Are you really ignoring me right now? C’mon, babe. Talk to me.

7:28PM You: Need space rn abs.

Then came the desperate text.

7:29PM Abby: Space Tf? Seriously?

7:29PM Abby: You can’t just disappear on me. You know that, right?

7:30PM Abby: I’ve done everything for you. I’ve kept you safe. And now you’re shutting me out?

────୨ৎ────

The messages kept coming. The words more frantic. More clipped. As if she couldn’t stand the thought of you being anywhere but within reach. She needed you. You couldn’t just disappear. Not after everything she’d done for you. This wasn’t how it worked. You never told her no.

And that wasn’t going to start now.

✈︎ Abandonment. It was the one thing Abby couldn’t stomach. Her mother was gone. Her father was present in name only. And now, you weren’t answering your fucking phone. She gritted her teeth, staring at the ceiling as her phone lay discarded beside her, the last unanswered text staring back at her like a slap in the face. She knew Leah’s death had shaken you. She’d seen it in the way you flinched at the sound of water slapping against the docks, how your fingers traced the scar on your arm absentmindedly when you thought no one was looking. And she got it—really, she did.

✈︎ But what she didn’t understand was why you were acting like this. Like she was the one to blame. She’d explained it to you a million times. She wasn’t trying to be cold. She just didn’t want you getting in trouble, ruining your life over something you couldn’t change. Did you think your parents would still approve of her if they knew everything? If you’d stuck around that night and let the police twist the truth? She had protected you, the way she always would, and now you were punishing her for it.

It wasn’t fair, this wasn’t fair. She was in love with you. All of you. That meant it was her job to protect you, to keep you safe, to make sure no one—no thing—could ever come between you. Because you weren’t just her girlfriend. You were hers. So fine. She’d let you have your space, your stupid fucking distance. You’d answer eventually.

You always did. Except you didn’t. And despite how much you hated the hollow, gnawing ache in your chest, you didn’t let yourself pick up the phone. At first, it was easy. Ignoring her texts, pretending you didn’t hear your phone buzzing at night. You told yourself it was necessary. That it would get better.

✈︎ But then came the flowers. The notes slipped under your door. The gifts left where you’d find them, small and expensive. Diamond jewelry – “I hate seeing you upset, baby. Let me make it up to you.” reminders that she was still there. That she wasn’t going to let you go so easily. And the worst part? A small, broken part of you didn’t want her to. But you had to, right? Because if you didn’t, Abby never would

✈︎ So, you started pulling away. Slowly, at first. Ignoring texts a little longer. Making excuses when she called. Telling yourself that if you could just create enough distance, she’d get the hint. She didn’t. Instead, she adjusted. Became more careful. Gave you space but never let you forget she was waiting. That she was patient. That you’d come back.

And your parents? They only made it worse.One night, as you walked into the dining room, your mother’s voice floated in from the kitchen. “Honey, these flowers are beautiful.”

Your father barely glanced up from his plate. “She’s a good kid. Second chances are important.”

Your stomach twisted. You didn’t have to ask where they came from. The same white roses Abby always sent, of course. You gripped the back of your chair. Bit your tongue. They didn’t know the full truth. Maybe they knew about the boat crash, maybe they didn’t, but even if they did, you weren’t involved, so why would they care? Abby was still Jerry’s daughter. Still the golden girl in their eyes. And the comments kept coming. Little reminders, subtle nudges that told you exactly where they stood.

“You never frowned this much when Jerry’s daughter was around,” your mom added, shaking her head. “You two were always so happy together.”

✈︎ Were. Past tense. Like they thought this was just a phase. Like they were waiting for you to snap out of it and come to your senses. It wasn’t like you wanted her to stay away. The notes on the gifts made your stomach churn with guilt. But then you’d remember the red flags being waved in your face, and you’d try to stand firm. try to hold your ground on this. And maybe that was why, when Abby invited you to dinner, you didn’t fight it as hard as you should have. Your mother’s voice in the back of your head, the same tired excuse about your father’s business dealings and not ending things on bad terms. So you accepted. Maybe you thought one last dinner would make it easier. That sitting across from her, hearing her laugh, remembering all the good things, would make it clear if you needed to step away fully. And at first, it was sweet.

The restaurant was dimly lit, quiet. Abby had picked your favorite place, ordered your favorite before you even arrived. She looked good, too—too good. Dark button-up, sleeves rolled just enough to tease the curve of her forearms. For a while, it felt normal. Comfortable. Maybe even right. Until it wasn’t. Until the conversation drifted back to her. To you. To the space you had put between you.

Abby exhaled, swirling her drink in slow circles. “Can we just… stop pretending?” she asked, voice low. “I know you miss me.”

Your stomach knotted, but you kept your voice even. “Abby—”

“You preyed on me, you know that?” she cut in, leaning forward. “At the funeral. When I was grieving.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You saw me at my lowest and took advantage of that. Made me think you actually cared.” She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “And then, what? The second things got hard, you ran?”

You stared at her, heartbeat pounding in your ears. It was a trick. A test. Another way to shift the blame. to make you doubt yourself, make you stay. Preyed on her? The self-doubt hit fast and hard. You didn’t intentionally worm your way in. You saw a girl who had just lost her mother. You offered an ear, a shoulder. She kissed you first, for Christ’s sake. You didn’t even know how to respond. But you did know this was only proving that you needed time away from her. From this person she was turning into.

The conversation escalated. Her voice sharper, her expression harder. The way she twisted her face in disapproval when you tried to defend yourself. Finally, you forced the words out.

“I think we should take a break.” Her jaw clenched. You expected a fight. For her to argue, to beg, to do something. Instead, she leaned back, nodded once, and signaled for the check. And for a while, you thought that was the end.

But then Abby stopped calling. Stopped texting. Stopped begging.

No gifts. No notes. Just… silence.

And somehow, that was worse. So much worse. It felt so wrong to not be near her.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ At first, the silence was a relief. But then the relief faded, leaving something else in its place. Something that gnawed at the edges of your thoughts late at night when you stared at your phone, knowing there would be nothing from her.

✈︎ It felt so , so wrong. Abby wasn’t the type to give up so easily. She fought for what she wanted, always. And that was the part you weren’t ready to admit: some small, irrational part of you wanted her to fight for this. For you. To prove something, even if you didn’t know what. But she didn’t.The silence stretched on. Days turned to weeks. And slowly, that unsettling feeling morphed into something heavier. The weight of your parents’ expectations, the whispers about Jerry’s family, the things left unsaid between you and Abby. it all started to spiral. You told yourself it was for the best. That this was what you wanted. But then why did it feel like losing? Why did the silence feel heavier than the arguments? Why did it twist something deep in your chest, leaving you restless, unable to sleep, unable to think without wondering if you had made the right choice.

You weren’t in the right headspace for this, not really. Not for concerts, not for crowds, not for meeting new people. But when Riley sent the invite, tickets already bought, practically begging you to get out of your own head, you said yes. Not because you wanted to, but because you didn’t trust yourself alone with your thoughts.

The music was loud. The bass pulsed through the floor, through your body, drowning out everything else. Riley dragged you through the crowd, weaving past bodies until you were close enough to feel the heat of the stage lights. And then there was her. A tall brunette, leaning in too close, brushing her shoulder against yours. Laughing at something you barely registered.

“What?” You yelled back.

“I said you’re hot! Love the outfit!” she shouted over the music, leaning down to your ear, breath warm against your skin.

Jessica. She introduced herself at some point during the night, though you barely remembered when. Her body was close, her presence easy, effortless. The kind of girl who knew what she wanted and didn’t hesitate to take it. When her hands drifted lower under the guise of friendly, you didn’t stop her. She was pretty. Willing. A distraction.

So you let her press against you from behind, her lips grazing the side of your neck. Let her hands roam, fingers mapping over you like she already knew where you needed them.

✈︎ You weren’t easy. But girls need love too. And maybe, for one night, that was enough. Her touch wasn’t like Abby’s. it was different. More room to flip the script, softer, hesitant in ways you weren’t used to. You had to guide her hands sometimes, shifting her touch when it wasn’t quite right, tilting her chin when she kissed you. But you weren’t sober, so you just leaned your head back against the leather of her passenger seat and tried to stay in the moment. Tried not to notice how it didn’t feel like enough. You groaned in frustration when your orgasm took much longer than it ever did before. Even your vagina had a mind of its own. And it was wondering to the woman you desperately didn’t want to think about.

Afterward, Jessica lit a cigarette, rolling the window down as she stretched her legs out. The orange glow of the ember flickered as she took a slow drag, exhaling into the night. You watched, silent, waiting for the feeling to settle in your chest. Some kind of satisfaction, some kind of relief. It never came.

Instead, she turned to you, smirking. “You wanna hear something funny?”

You hummed in acknowledgment, still staring out the windshield. Praying she didn’t notice that your moans were definitely a bit more exaggerated.

“When I was a kid, some girl cut off a chunk of my hair.” Jessica huffed.

That made you glance over. “What?”

Jessica laughed, tapping ash out the window. “Yeah. Just, snip. Right in the middle of class.” She made a cutting motion with her fingers, grinning. “It was long, too. My mom loved my hair. Always brushed it out for me, made a big deal about it. And then this girl, out of nowhere, just—” She mimicked the sound of scissors slicing through the air. “Teacher freaked. My mom cried. The whole thing was a mess.”

You frowned. “Damn. Why’d she do it?”

Jessica shrugged, flicking her cigarette. “She wouldn’t say. Just sat there, holding the hair like it was hers now.” She laughed again, shaking her head. “I had to get it all cut short after that. Sucked.”

You exhaled through your nose, lips pressing together. Something about the story sat oddly in your chest, but you couldn’t put your finger on why. Maybe it was because you could picture it too clearly the quiet, unspoken possession behind a simple, irreversible act. Maybe it was because, in a different time, in a different place, you could have seen Abby doing the same thing. You pushed the thought away. That would a crazy assumption, right?

Jessica reached for your thigh again, fingertips brushing just above your knee. You let her. Not because you wanted to, but because you didn’t have the energy to move away. The truth was, she wasn’t Abby. She didn’t kiss you like she meant it. She didn’t make your breath hitch, didn’t pull you under in a way that felt intoxicating.

And yet, despite everything, you still felt the pull. Going back to Abby would be a mistake. So why did it feel like you were already slipping?

You let Jessica be enough for the time being. Focused on your own life. Separate from Abby.

She turned out to be sweet. A little clingy, but not in a way that suffocated you—just in a way that made it easier to let her fill the space Abby left behind. And even if the sex wasn’t mind-blowing, it was good enough to make you forget, at least for a little while. You weren’t sure if you were ready for another relationship anyway.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ Jessica was easy. Simple. No complications, no expectations. at least, that’s what you told yourself. You let her be enough for the time being, focused on your own life, separate from Abby. It was nice, in a way. Being with someone who didn’t come with sharp edges, who didn’t push or pull too hard. Someone who let you lead. Even if the sex wasn’t the same, even if you sometimes found yourself zoning out when she kissed you, even if her touch didn’t spark anything close to what Abby’s did. You made do.

✈︎ You tried. You really did. But there was something hanging over you that you couldn’t shake. It lingered, always present, like a ghost at the edge of your mind. It hindered you from fully indulging with Jessica like you used to, made it harder to pretend she was all you wanted. And she wasn’t stupid.

Jessica laughed, head thrown back as she wiped tears from her eyes. “Wait—you dated that psycho?”

Your stomach twisted. “She’s not—”

“Oh my god, babe.” She shook her head, grinning. “She definitely is. Didn’t she break some girl’s ribs in highschool?”

“That’s just a rumor.” Your voice was quieter than you wanted it to be.

Jessica snorted, slumping against the couch. “I mean, I get it, I guess. She��s hot, in a scary kind of way. But, babe, that’s—” She stopped. Her smile faded just a little as she sat up, studying your face. “…Wait.” She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “Is that why you’ve been off?” You stiffened. Of course she noticed.

“Her?” Jessica scoffed, shifting on the couch.

“No—I don’t know—”

“You don’t know?” Her voice toned in disbelief. “I’m all over you, and you’re telling me you’ve been thinking about another girl?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Jessica exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Jesus Christ.”

✈︎ Guilt became your newfound friend. Because you couldn’t deny it. You were thinking about her. And now you were defending her. Even after everything. Even after all the reasons you had to stay away. And that wasn’t even the worst part of it all.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ Why? Because Abby could hardly contain the burning frustration bubbling in her chest as she tossed the racket aside. The sound of it hitting the ground was too quiet, a dull thud compared to the storm she felt rising in her. Why was this so fucking hard? For the fourth time in a row, the tennis ball hit the net and rolled off, mocking her with its perfect imperfection. She wiped a hand across her face, trying to shake the thought from her mind, but it lingered like a bad taste. You.

Her grip on the racket tightened again, knuckles white, the tension in her body palpable. Goddamn it, she cursed under her breath. A harsh exhale left her lungs as she turned away from the court, storming off without a second glance at Jerry, who called after her with that same disappointed tone.

“The hell was that?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. There was nothing to say. Not when her thoughts were consumed by you, by the space you’d put between the two of you. You were still out of reach, and the thought of you letting someone else slide in made her stomach twist in knots. The anger surged again, hot and sharp. Her visor felt suffocating now, like the pressure of it could crack her skull. It had been months, and you hadn’t come back. Months. And what was worse? You’d moved on. Blocking her was one thing, but seeing you move on? That was the thing that twisted the knife.

She slumped down on a bench nearby, the air heavy in her lungs, suffocating her as she dug through her phone. The screen glowed back at her, an endless stream of images and memories. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, flipping through photos, each one a reminder of a time she thought she still had you. Your laughter, your warmth, your body beneath her hands.

A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she zoomed in on one picture. You, pressed against her, eyes sparkling. “Let’s see how long you can keep ignoring me,” she muttered, to herself. her finger tapping on the screen. She posted it without hesitation, not caring how it might make you feel. She just needed you to know. she wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ You had been getting looks all morning, but not like this. The stares felt different—more calculated, more curious. Something wasn’t right, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. You brushed it off, shoving the unease down as best as you could.

✈︎ Until you finally gotten home, phone buzzing in your hand, and opened Nora’s message. The second you saw the notification, your stomach dropped.

(Pic is not to represent the readers physical! Just for story’s sake)

────୨ৎ────

“Please, tell me that is NOT my ass on the timeline right now,” you said, barely holding it together as the panic crept up your throat. Embarrassment flooded your veins.

On the other side, Nora stifled her awkward laughter, but you could hear the amusement in her voice. “Then I won’t say it.”

The tension snapped. You were dressed, yes, but that picture? It was never meant for the world. Not like this. Not for her followers.

“…It’s a good picture at least?” Nora ventured, trying to ease the tension, but you could hear her holding back a laugh.

You stared at the screen in disbelief as your phone nearly slipped from your hands. Comments started rolling in. Some teasing, others thirsty. Your stomach twisted tighter with every line. And then you saw it—at the top of the post—Abby’s username, clear as day.

You didn’t think. You just pressed call.

The phone rang twice before she picked up, and you didn’t give her a chance to speak.

“Are you fucking serious, Abbigail?!”

Abby’s voice was rough, thick with the frustration she couldn’t hide. “What the fuck else was I supposed to do? Gifts? Ignored. Saying please? Ignored. I’m blocked on basically everything!”

“I don’t know, space! Like I asked?”

“It’s been months!” Your breath caught in your throat as the anger and hurt pressed against your chest, but Abby’s voice dropped, and something softer—something hurt—slipped through. “It’s been months.” She repeated.

The words hit harder than you expected. You could hear the raw edge in her voice, the cracks forming in her tough exterior. “It’s like you hate me now,” she murmured, quieter, almost like she didn’t want you to hear it. “All of me. Us.”

And just like that, you felt your defenses crack.

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

It's Day Fifteen, so it's the Babysitting prompt. I debated having them babysit Jee-Yun or Denny and Mara, but I miss Christopher and they probably do, too. In this universe, Eddie's move to El Paso was temporary and ended sometime in the late summer so Christopher could be back in LA for his next year of school. This is also on AO3 over here. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary

They’ve got Christopher for the afternoon, because Eddie has an appointment and then a couple of errands to run. He’d mentioned his schedule the day before while Buck and Tommy had been dropping a lasagna off for them, asking Christopher if he was okay following him around for a bit, and Tommy had said:

“You know, you could always drop him off with us.”

And Eddie, who'd been spending every free moment possible with his kid and working on a lot of stuff, had been almost hesitant to say yes. Then Christopher had readily agreed, because he hadn't been hung out with them in forever. Buck had turned pleading eyes on Eddie until his best friend agreed.

“Guess I should stop hogging you, kid.”

So Buck is thrilled to have Christopher over. He hasn’t had much hangout time since they came back from El Paso, but he’s also excited to show off his and Tommy’s place to one of his favorite people. Christopher has already seen it when it was just Tommy’s. He hasn’t seen it when it was theirs, though.

Christopher, being a teenager, doesn’t completely appreciate the significance of this, but he does say it’s really “cool” that they’re living together and that he likes the new couch. Buck gives Tommy a smug look over Christopher’ head, and his boyfriend makes a face at him. As far as he’s concerned, it’s the final nail in the “Buck was right in the furniture store” argument.

“You said you brought your Switch, right?” Buck asks, and Christopher nods. “Well, Tommy can hook that up while I grab us some snacks.”

“I can do it,” Christopher offers, taking a few cables from his bag.

“Nah, I got it,” Tommy says, taking everything as Christopher gets it out. “Hon, can you grab me some ice tea?”

Buck smiles and watches fondly as Christopher piles cables and plastic into Tommy's arms. “Yeah. What about you, kid?”

“Just water,” Christopher says, shrugging and smiling. “Thanks.”

He ruffles Christopher’ hair and goes into the kitchen. He’s probably going a little overboard on the tray of snacks he brings out, but he wants Christopher to be happy. He’s missed the kid like a limb, and he plops next to him on the couch and wishes Christopher wasn’t kind of too cool for cuddling now. He still gave Buck a really long hug when he arrived, but Christopher is a teenager. Teenagers don’t do couch cuddle time, though he does tip his head over onto Buck’s shoulder when Buck curls an arm around his head to kiss his hair.

“Thank you,” Christopher says, immediately going for the potato chips once Buck releases him.

Tommy reaches for his ice tea before sitting on Buck’s other side. “Thanks. Alright, we’re hooked up, kid.”

They play through a cup in Mario Kart, and Christopher beats the shit out of both of them. Buck lingers between third and sixth place the whole time, and Tommy’s only marginally better.

“I feel like this is not made for grown hands,” Tommy says, turning the Joy-Con over in his hands and giving it a dubious look.

“I have other ones, but they’ve got wires,” Christopher offers, diving into his backpack.

Tommy’s eyes light up, and he takes them when Christopher pulls out a tangle of wires with two controllers attached. “Way better. Just a sec.”

He hops up and fiddles with the Switch until he has the controllers plugged in. Christopher keeps using the small wireless controller that’s more comfortable for his hands. Buck and Tommy end up pulling their blanket chest and ottoman closer to the TV so the controller cables can reach.

“Alright, let’s try this again,” Buck says eagerly.

He does a little better, Tommy does a lot better. Suspiciously a lot better.

“We had a GameCube on base,” he explains when Buck shoots him a look of betrayal. Tommy’s older, he’s supposed to be worse with technology. “What else do you have on here, kid?”

Buck knows he shouldn’t trust the nonchalant suggestion of Super Smash Bros, and Christopher doesn’t know any better yet. He doesn’t know that Tommy Kinard is a sneaky liar, but Buck has been learning things. Like his boyfriend pretended he'd never made focaccia before so Buck could show him how, and then he'd produced a professional grade loaf on his first try.

“You were really excited. But I really don't know how to make apple pie, I swear.”

He hadn't, it was a disaster until Buck intervened.

It takes a few minutes of Tommy doing seemingly random things on the sides of the stages while Buck tries in vain to go after Christopher, and then he makes a noise of understanding and absolutely destroys them for the next three matches.

“How?” Christopher demands.

“We did a couple tournaments while we were deployed,” Tommy says with an innocent shrug.

“Uh-huh, and who won those?” Buck asks suspiciously.

“Can’t remember,” Tommy lies, grinning.

“You hustled us,” Christopher says, but he looks delighted instead of pissed. He's doubtlessly adding this to the long list of things that makes Tommy cool, which Buck is proud of these days instead of jealous. “Can you beat the CPU on the highest level?”

“I have no idea,” Tommy says, reaching back to grab a carrot stick. “Let’s see.”

What follows is unreal, according to Christopher. They watch Tommy fight a computer controlled character at each difficulty level, and he manages to get through almost all of them. The last one, though, is apparently almost impossible.

“The reaction time on that thing’s literally not physically possible,” Tommy explains as he makes Fox McCloud do something with a shield that Buck can’t follow. When he gets taken out a moment later by the CPU, he sighs and sits back. “Yeah, nope. There’s no way.”

“Let me look up exploits,” Christopher says, poking at his phone.

“Wait, yeah,” Tommy says, twisting around. “Good call, kid.”

Buck settles back and snacks while Tommy and Christopher try to figure out how to exploit an AI-driven computer character, fail several times, and finally Tommy beats one. He jumps to his feet, fists in the air, and comes around the coffee table to shake Christopher’ shoulders (gently) while they roar in each other’s faces like animals.

He loves them both, but they’re two of the biggest nerds he’s ever met.

“That was so cool!” Christopher shouts as Tommy takes a few victory gulps of his tea.

“It was,” Buck agrees, because it had been incredibly entertaining to watch.

“Aw, babe,” Tommy says, kissing the top of his head. “Thanks for putting up with us.”

“Do you wanna play something else?” Christopher asks, and Buck and Tommy exchange a look. “What?”

“How do you feel about go karts?” Tommy asks, grinning. “Not Nintendo ones.”

Christopher looks between them, his eyes going wide behind his glasses. “Wait, for real?”

They pile into Buck’s Jeep, and Christopher hums happily from the backseat when they pull away from the house.

“I missed this car,” he says, and Buck’s heart warms.

“It probably missed you,” he says, glancing in the rear view mirror at Christopher’ smiling face. “I think pretty much everything in LA missed you, kid.”

Christopher rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but Buck doesn’t miss the smile that’s still on his face. Tommy’s hand covers his and squeezes, and Buck lifts it to his lips to kiss it and presses his cheek to the back of Tommy’s hand.

When he gets them safely to the go karting place, Tommy splits off from them to use the bathroom, and Buck hugs Christopher against his side while they scope out the track.

“I missed you, too,” Christopher says, and Buck bends down to kiss his hair. “Even though you and Tommy are all gross still. Dad said you’d mellow out by now, but I said you’d probably be like this even after you get married.”

Buck lets out a strangled laugh at that. “Married? Who said we’re getting married?”

Christopher looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “You guys are totally getting married one day. You’re, like, soulmates.”

He looks around to make sure Tommy isn’t sneaking up on them before leaning in and admitting: “Yeah, I’m pretty sure we are. Which also means that I get to ask you before I ask anyone else to be one of my groomsmen.”

He gets a considering look that makes Christopher look way too much like his father. “Do I get to go to the bachelor party?”

Buck barks out a laugh. “Not a chance, kid.”

Christopher groans. “Can you guys wait until I’m 18, then?”

“Dude, I’m not delaying my wedding so you can go to a bachelor party.” He squeezes Christopher’ shoulder and laughs when the kid sighs loudly and dramatically. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Promise,” Christopher says, raising his pinky. Buck’s breath catches, and he carefully hooks his pinky around Christopher’. “Can I bring a date?”

Buck’s laughing when Tommy comes up on his other side and asks if they’re ready to race.

“I call Christopher,” Tommy says quickly, and Buck lets out a squawk of outrage. “You snooze, you lose, Buckley.”

On the track, he catches sight of Tommy and Christopher more than once and can hear their shouts of joy even over the noise of the engines. He can’t even be mad when they beat him.

“What do I win?” Tommy asks, bouncing once on his toes. He's adorable, Buck wants to squeeze the life out of him.

“I can still hear you,” Christopher reminds them from where he’s texting Eddie. “Before you answer that.”

“You’ve been spending way too much time with your dad,” Buck mutters, but he gives Tommy a kiss. “There. But also, there’s no way you’re winning the next one, because Christopher is coming with me.”

He still loses, because Tommy’s Mario Kart skills apparently translate well to real karts.

“Okay, now what do I win?” Tommy asks smugly.

“A high-five,” Christopher says flatly, raising his hand.

Tommy slaps it. “I’ll take it. You guys want to go around the corner? There’s a good wing spot.”

“Hell yeah,” Buck says, looping an arm around his waist.

As they walk outside and around the corner, Buck leans over and kisses his cheek.

“I’ll give you your prize later,” he promises in a low voice so Christopher can’t hear from where he’s a couple paces ahead of them.

“Yeah?” Tommy murmurs back. “Wanna give me a hint?”

“Dude,” Christopher says.

“There’s no way you heard that!” Buck protests.

“I didn't need to.” He stops so they can catch up with him and shakes his head. “You guys are like the kids at school who make out between classes.”

Tommy scoffs. “I think we have a little more self-control than—”

“Don't lie around the kid, Tommy,” Buck says with a sigh, looping an arm around his boyfriend's waist and letting the other one fall across Christopher’ shoulders. “We’re supposed to set a good example.”

Tommy slips away to go a few steps ahead to get the door to the wing place. “Are we? Because I thought we were about to have a wing eating contest.”

“Yeah, good examples of how to dominate at wing eating contests.” Buck presses a quick kiss to his lips as he passes.

They grab a table as Tommy and Christopher negotiate the terms of the contest, and Buck sends a text to Eddie to let him know that they're feeding Christopher along with a photo of the three of them before Christopher heads into the bathroom.

“I think we're about to win as best babysitters,” Tommy decides, stretching his arms over his head. “I can feel it in my bones.”

Buck huffs out a laugh. “Like that was ever a question. We're definitely the best. Right?”

“We gotta be.”

When Christopher gets back from the bathroom, he looks between them like they’re crazy when they ask him.

“Yeah, duh,” he says, and Buck fistbumps his boyfriend. “Aren't you guys too old to care about stuff like that?”

“Yeah, totally,” Tommy lies.

“Yep,” Buck agrees, also lying through his teeth. “Way too old.”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Can we pleasee have more yandere father stein content??

Yandere Father Stein (2)

The fic it started with | Headcannons

“Are you ready?”

“To kill you after you’ve beaten up my boyfriend for no reason? Very much so!”

“Uh, Professor and (Y/n) the rules for training today is to not seriously hurt each other.”

“...You should make use of the new upgrades I made to your key.”

“Shut it, old man!”

“Alright and start!”

On the level of combat, you’re unique but not all that different from your father

Able to wield your own version of soul force with mechanical upgrades to your actual person

You charge first sending a violent punch in his direction 

Dodging swiftly, he takes the opening to produce a soul force into your back

Maka, Soul, Kid, Kate, Liz, Tsubaki and Black Star cringe having seen this move before 

Fully expecting to hear you scream and writhe like them

But alas you do not instead you take advantage of his pause to latch onto his screw slamming his head into the ground

You don’t wait for him to get out of the crater, folding your palms together and bringing them down

“Soul Strike!” 

A purple flash of light goes out as you slam into his back 

You don’t get another hit in before he’s gotten up again and is running across the desert

Of course, you follow, your fist turning into an open palm, the output of your soul wavelength is immense and everyone watching can tell that this could be fatal for any normal person

Maka tries to intervene but you’re already inches away from stabbing Stein

“(Y/n) wait–!”

Only for it all to stop 

Your eyes dull and mid-lunge you crumble right into Stein’s chest

“Slightly delayed reaction, otherwise good results.”

With ease, he picks up the unconscious you 

Hardly struggling with one hand he puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it

“What just happened!?”

“I guess this ends in a…win for Stein?”

Kid is the only one who seems to know what happened and he’s very mad about it

“That is foul play! Using whatever ‘upgrades’ you made against them!”

Stein scoffs, “Don’t get upset. They should know better than to let their key get dislodged in a fight.”

He casually walks back into the city leaving the others to get back on their own

Looking down at you, he can’t help but compare it to the memories of your youth

Small and reckless it was always a joy to be able to turn the key in your chest to send you to sleep

Of course he wasn’t the only one who realized this 

“Papa I made friends!”

You used to be so small

“With them over there! They love ma cookin’!”

“Do they?”

“Yup!”

“Figures they are rats. (Y/n)...have you been pulling out the key on your chest lately?”

“Mmm no.”

“I see so you’ve discovered what lying is.”

“What’s lying?”

“What you just did. Tell me where is it?”

“Mmm I don’t know.”

“Well if you don’t want to miss seeing your friends tomorrow better find it. Other wise you’ll be sleeping while I make a new one.”

“I–well…I think I know where it is…wait here!”

As he once again situates you on his operating table the monitor quietly displays your vitals, he wonders how he could be the parent of such a rebel

A monitor rings out, a wall of TVs all for their respective cameras showing 

And on one continuing into the other is the student with black hair and white stripes hopping his fence

“Why is it that even at this age they continue to attract rats? I’ll just have to deal with it...like last time.”

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

warnings: swearing, Bucky is a greasy mechanic, touching without permission (not reader and Bucky) smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids)

AN: image from @filmesbrazil. This is a 50s!AU where Bucky is a mechanic.

I knocked on the desk as I looked at the legs of my mechanic. He crossed his legs and I shook my head. The sound of tools shifting made me roll my eyes.

“alright buck. I know you know I’m here.” I said, leaning against the desk. “Come on out.” Bucky motioned for me to wait and I sighed as I sat on the desk. Looking around, I nodded. Sitting in the corner was Steve’s next door neighbor. She was watching Bucky under the car as she chewed on her bubblegum and twirled her hair. Steve came out of the office, making her jolt before hopping down off the crate she was using as a chair.

“Lock up when you’re done buck.” Steve called as he ushered the girl out of the shop. “Make sure he locks up (Y/N). I’ve got a date tonight and this is the last car for the night.” I nodded as I looked over at the girl waiting for Steve.

“you know she…” I started quietly. Steve nodded. “Alright then. Good luck with that one.” I held my hands up before waving to him. I waited until I saw Steve’s car pull away before hopping off the desk. “She’s gone.” Bucky slid out from under the car and grabbed the show rag from his toolbox.

“thanks. She wouldn’t stop touching me and I couldn’t take it anymore.” He said as he stood up. “Wouldn’t even listen when I said I was taken.” Bucky came over and kissed me softly. “So your car is almost ready.”

“come on Bucky what else needs to be done?” I whined. Bucky laughed as he lowered the hood on my car.

“well for starters…” he said, glancing back at me. “Did you know you blew a fuse?” I shook my head. “Or that the shocks were out on your breaks?” I shook my head again. Bucky laughed. “So there you go. You did more damage to that thing pushing it downhill than if you had left it and let me come pick it up with the tow like I said I would.” Leaning against my car, he crossed his arms with a smirk. “Want me to go on?” I shook my head with a laugh. “Alright then. It’ll be in here for a couple more days while I wait for a part. Had to have it special ordered from the manufacturer doll.” Bucky shook his head. “You’re lucky Steve lets me take it out of the excess budget. Otherwise you’d be paying.”

“I’m also lucky Steve refuses to let me pay at all.” I teased. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Yeah there’s that too.” He laughed as he pushed off the car. “So what were you thinking for dinner doll?” I looked him over and smirked.

“I got a few ideas.” Bucky laughed as I sauntered over to him. “Backseat of my car is free. You just gotta lock up.” I started unbuttoning my shirt as he stood there staring. “Nuuh buck. You lock up first. Then you get a peek.” Bucky ran to the garage door and pulled it closed, locking it along with the front door before running back towards me. I laughed as I opened the back door and watched as Bucky all but dove into the backseat. He got settled as he waited for me to climb in.

“all locked up. No one’s getting in unless they have a key. So Sam or Steve but they’re double dating tonight so…” Bucky shrugged as I reached for the hem of his shirt. Tugging it over his head, I tossed it outside the car.

“any grease and you are cleaning it up.” I warned. Bucky nodded as he went to work on getting my shirt off. I moaned as he dipped his head to kiss along my neck and chest.

“worth it.” He murmured as my shirt joined his. Our hands tangled as we both reached for the others pants. Outside the door to the car was a small pile of clothes as Bucky kissed me hungrily. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he gently laid me back on the seat. We both moaned as Bucky gently thrust into me, the windows starting to steam up slightly. “So damn good doll. Made just for me.” He murmured as he slowly started to build a rhythm. “Fucking hell.” I panted as I buried my hand in buckys hair.

“Bucky please.” I whined as he canted his hips, grinding against me with each snap. “Fuck buck.” Bucky kissed along my neck as he nuzzled into me. “Bucky.” I whimpered as I came. Bucky grunted as he fucked me through my orgasm before following me over the edge, a strangled cry getting caught in his throat. We laid there for a minute before Bucky moved to sit up. He chuckled before getting out of the car. He came back with a shop rag.

“sorry.” He murmured as he started to clean up the grease spots he left over my neck and chest. “Should have washed up before we started.”

“it’s fine.” I waved a hand at him as he grabbed my clothes and handed them to me. “I always thought you were hotter covered in grease anyway.” Bucky smiled at me as he started getting dressed.

“let’s get cleaned up and change. Maybe I can make you some dinner at home.” Bucky said, offering me a hand before we headed out the side door to his car.

[naebaetwsog]

hey! i saw you said we could request for other groups...so could you write about bnd and their idol crushes? :3 ❤️

。° BOYNEXTDOOR w/idol crush「:

genre.fluff. Idol reader

pairing. Bnd x idol!fem!reader

a/n. Thank you for requesting, I hope you like it and pls let me know if I should change anything

Jaehyun

Jaehyun swore he wasn’t going to embarrass himself today. He had practiced staying calm, had mentally prepared for this moment—but the second your performance started on M Countdown, his brain shut down completely.

He was just staring. Mouth slightly open, eyes wide, completely oblivious to the cameras catching every second of his daze. Hanbin nudged him, barely holding back laughter. “Bro, close your mouth.”

When it was time for the MCs to interview you, Jaehyun tried to act normal. He really did. But the moment you made eye contact with him, his face turned bright red, and he quickly looked away. It didn’t help that Sohee and Hanbin were whispering things like “Jaehyun, breathe” and “You’re literally shaking” right next to him.

Despite his nerves, he had to talk to you before you left. After the show, he found the courage to approach you. “You were amazing out there,” he blurted out, a little too fast. Then, realizing how that sounded, he panicked. “I-I mean, I really like—your work! Your music! Yeah.”

You just smiled, amused by his flustered state. “Thanks, Jaehyun. Maybe we should do a dance challenge together sometime?”

If Jaehyun was red before, now he was on fire.

Sungho

Sungho didn’t think the cameras would catch him. But there he was, projected onto the big screen, caught red-handed blushing while watching your performance at an award show. His members noticed immediately, and the teasing began before the performance even ended.

“Bro, you’re smiling like a lovesick fool,” Woonhak whispered, poking his side.

“I—I just like their music,” Sungho stammered, covering his face with his hands.

Later, when all the groups gathered on stage for the closing moments, destiny (or pure luck) placed you right next to him. Sungho froze. He had spent months admiring you from afar, and now you were standing close enough for him to hear your breathing.

He didn’t even register the way his members subtly nudged him toward you. Gathering the tiniest bit of courage, he turned to you and mumbled, “Uh… hi.”

You smiled warmly, “Hey, Sungho.”

And that was it. That was the moment he blacked out. Well, not literally—but his brain definitely stopped working. The second the event ended, he sprinted offstage. His members would never let him live this down.

Riwoo

Riwoo had been a fan of yours long before you both became idols. Back when you were just two kids on a dance talent show, he had admired your skills, your energy—everything about you. Now, years later, you were both under HYBE, and he finally saw you again… at the company cafeteria.

He nearly choked on his drink.

Jaehyun, who was with him at the time, didn’t miss a thing. “Oh, no way. That’s your crush, isn’t it?”

Riwoo immediately denied it, but his flushed face said otherwise. And Jaehyun? He was not letting this slide. “You should say hi.”

“Absolutely not,” Riwoo whispered, turning away.

“Or I could say hi for you.”

Before Riwoo could stop him, Jaehyun called out your name, forcing Riwoo to turn back around. You looked up, meeting Riwoo’s eyes with a small smile. “Hey! I remember you. It’s been a while.”

Riwoo could barely form words. He managed to stutter out something about how cool it was to see you again.

And that’s how it started—his dream of collaborating with you was suddenly very real.

Taesan

Taesan might look like the chill, nonchalant type, but when it comes to you? Absolutely not. The man is shameless.

You were both invited to a variety show, and from the moment you met, Taesan was flirting.

“Wow,” he said as you introduced yourself, giving you a once-over with a smirk. “You look even better in person.”

You raised an eyebrow, caught off guard—but you weren’t about to back down. “Oh? You’ve been paying attention to me that much?”

The way his smirk faltered slightly told you everything. But instead of backing off, he only doubled down. Throughout the show, he found every excuse to interact with you, casually slipping in compliments and playful comments.

At the end of the filming, as you were all packing up, Taesan casually leaned over and whispered, “So… can I get your number?”

You laughed, shaking your head at his boldness—but you still handed him your phone.

That night, he added you to a playlist labeled ‘for someone special’.

Leehan

Leehan didn’t just have a crush on you—he was whipped. And everyone in BOYNEXTDOOR knew it.

How bad was it? Well, let’s just say he named a fish after you.

When both your groups were invited to the same variety show, Leehan panicked. He was excited, sure, but also terrified. What if he said something weird? What if he embarrassed himself? (Spoiler: He absolutely did.)

The first game required partners, and by some stroke of luck, you got paired together. Leehan was so nervous that he completely messed up the first round. His members were dying in the background, watching him fumble simple instructions.

You found it adorable. “Relax, Leehan,” you said with a laugh, patting his shoulder.

Yeah. He definitely wasn’t going to survive this.

Woonhak

Woonhak is the type to play it cool but secretly be screaming inside.

You were in the same class before you debuted, and at the time, he had just thought you were a cool person. But the moment he found out you were also an idol? His admiration skyrocketed.

During a live broadcast, a fan asked him about his favorite artists, and your name immediately came up. “Oh, she’s amazing,” he said casually, a small smile on his lips. “Great performer, great vocals… and she’s a really good friend too.”

The second he ended the live, his members pounced.

“Bro, you just soft-launched your crush.”

Woonhak groaned, realizing what he had done. But deep down? He didn’t really regret it.

Because if he played his cards right, maybe one day he’d get to call you more than just a friend.

[akajustmerry]

Can you tell us more about queercoding in relation to robes? I'm so intrigued by that, especially when I've heard so many people say that Dale's queerness got sidelined this season

okay I'm gonna address the last thing you mention in this ask first ie Dale's queerness being "sidelined" because I've also seen this being said and from the bottom of my heart I want to say that if you (not you anon) watched season 3 of the Newsreader and thought that that Dale's queerness was sidelined, you do not have the reading comprehension skills or maturity necessary to appreciate the show. So just quickly wrt to the sideline claim:

Dale's bisexuality and his fear of it being discovered drives the great majority of his decisions - from how he dresses to who he spends time with to what he spends money on. So much so he has a literal mental breakdown over the constant pressure. Something that's a character's main motivation is by definition not sidelined.

I find what people usually mean when they say this, especially about bisexual characters but generally about LGB characters is that they view queer representation as almost exclusively queer intimacy. It should go without saying but being queer is about who you want to be intimate with as much as it is about actually being intimate. Dale doesn't experience a lot of queer intimacy and that is by design because of his fears of being discovered. Again the fact he isn't intimate with men is driven by his understanding of his queerness.

Finally, I really need Sam Reid fans from the Iwtv fandom to understand that Dale is the secondary protagonist of the Newsreader. Helen is the protagonist. And more generally, this is an ensemble show. If Dale feels off to the side it's because he is not the main character and not the focus of the show. At best he's the second main character behind Helen. This show is actually about Helen.

Okay that rant is done, onto the robe stuff:

Forgive me, I can't credit exactly where this was first discussed, historically, (I believe maybe in the documentary The Celluloid Closet but if anyone has a better reference lmk), but elaborate robes/dressing gowns have often been used in queer coding. This is in part because fancy robes on men signify significant disposable income via being a bachelor and having no wife or kids. They're luxury items.

This coding through costume goes as far back as Sam's uncle in Bewitched who was very queer coded and often wore elaborate dressing gowns. There's even a joke in The Nanny where Fran isn't surprised people think Max is gay and she lists off his bachelor status, grooming habits and robes. More recently, you can see this kind of coding through robes in costume design in Ripley where it's made a point that Tom takes and wears Dickey's robes, and in Queer 2024. This kind of design choice is even in Interview With The Vampire. Lestat and Louis both wear very fancy robes throughout the series (Lestat's far more opulent ofc), literally the morning after they first have sex there's that shot of Lestat seeing Louis out the door wearing a very snazzy dressing gown.

I think there's also a gendered element too in that dressing gowns/robes are seen as items of clothing a traditionally masculine man would not wear. This is also why male villains wearing dress robes is a trope because it's kind of a way to code deviancy by way of male femininity which has often had crossover with coding queerness. Not the most sophisticated or good faith example, I know, but the most recent fast and furious movie has a whole sequence where Jason Mamoa (bad guy) has a pamper session surrounded by dead bodies while he paints his nails and wears a purple fluffy robe. The very old homophobic signification of using a robe to indicate male femininity, therefore queerness and therefore deviancy is so clear in that movie that I was kinda shocked to see it in one made so recently.

Of course I'm not saying that Dale wearing a robe is homophobic. It's not, but it does align with a very rich history of using snazzy dressing gowns to signify being a bachelor, being wealthy and being queer. All things Dale is grappling with in season 3 and I really enjoyed it as a detail, as you can see. Thanks for asking 🥰

[lyracarvahall]

HeartBeat Sync Part 24

Gamer Boy

As Yunho pulled her into the backseat, the pair started giggling like school kids.

"What are you up to Yunho?" Y/N placed her head on his shoulder.

"I realized I don't know a lot about you and what you like and don't like, so I figured I would show you a piece of myself. There is a place here that has arcade games and food. Figured it would be nice to just have fun for a while." He looked at her shyly like he feared she would reject the idea.

"That sounds AWESOME! Won't you be recognized though?"

"We will stop on the way and buy a hat I can wear. They don't know you yet so you should be okay. "

"Okay...I just don't want you to get in trouble, honey." Y/N kissed Yunho's shoulder. "I think this is a cool idea though! I am not the best at games. I rocked some DDR back in the day though..." She chuckled at herself.

"Dance Dance Revolution?! Oooh you are on, sexy. We will have to test your skills for sure." He ran his fingers slowly up and down her back, making her shiver. He chuckled deeply. "We are gonna have a lot of fun tonight baby." She blushed at all of the things that could possibly mean.

A few minutes later, they pulled up to a multi-floor and brightly colored arcade. The windows were all blacked out. Yunho got out of the car, opening her door and extending a hand to her. What a gentleman indeed.

Taking her hand and guiding her into the arcade, he quickly guided her to the gift shop in the front, buying them both hats. Pulling them both on, he guided her into the arcade. Filled with blacklights, she could barely see Yunho walking in front of her. She could see why he wasn't too stressed about concealing his identity. Plus in America they had a little more anonymity.

Leading her to the restaurant, he ordered a couple of slices of cheese pizza and they sat at a corner table that was covered in blacklight paint splatters. They chatted about favorite things and typical first date talk while getting pizza grease all over their hands and faces. It was fun and carefree, a vibe she was quickly beginning to associate with Yunho.

After they ate, they headed to the arcade, his arm wrapped around her waist. She pulled out her wallet to pay for the gaming card before he could protest. He didn't fight her on it though, sensing her need to contribute. Heading to the Jurassic Park game, they went behind the curtain and as soon as the curtain closed, his lips connected to hers. His lips are soft and pliant but not pushy, giving her the chance to control the pace.

She fell into the gentle flow of sweet kisses even though his big hands were attempting to spin a different tale. Placed on both of her upper thighs, they petted up and down. Before they could get too carried away in a public place, she broke the kiss. Looking into his eyes, she saw a hunger unexpected from the softness of his pace. She subconsciously licked her lips, his eyes flicking down to watch the movement.

"You're killing me, sexy girl. Let's play this game before I take you right here." he grunted out huskily.

He delicately took the card from her hands with his long fingers and slid it. Meanwhile Y/N remained stunned and frozen in place. Shaking herself to break out of it, she released a soft giggle which made his eyes crinkle. The game fired up and they took guns in hands. They did fairly well for a while until a raptor suddenly took Y/N out from the side of the screen. Yunho held his own for a minute but in the end was unable to fend them off on his own.

"I'm sorry! I didn't see it!" she felt a little embarrassed for letting him down.

"Don't worry baby. I didn't see it either. Those raptors are tricky." He wagged his finger back in forth.

This caused her to laugh out loud and he joined her. Taking her hand, he guided her to the DDR machine.

"You up for it?" He raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"I don't exactly have the best bra for this. Time to resort to the cross-arm method."

He smirked and walked over to the machine which currently had a young girl dancing across both sides of the machine with flair and style. She had to be maybe 13 or so. a couple of people had gathered to watch but it was a Tuesday evening so understandable why there wasn't exactly a big crowd in the arcade.

After she finished, Yunho and Y/N clapped for her. She turned and gave an exaggerated curtsey, her braided pigtails bouncing. Once she giddily walked away the duo made their way to the dance pads,

"Hard to follow an act like THAT." Y/N said with a big smile on her face.

"We will just have to try our best." Yunho smirked again, paying and then queueing up the first song. He started them both on easy difficulty so they could get the hang of it. Though a little out of breath, she was able to keep up with him. The second song was a medium difficulty. A small crowd had begun to gather and they were mostly doing a great job hanging in there. Yunho's main problem seemed to be his big feet.

Once the third song came on, he turned the difficulty to HEAVY for them.

"Game on, baby." He said darkly.

The song was not too bad at first but at the crescendo they were both sweating. The small crowd surrounding them began to cheer as she hung her jacket quickly on the railing behind the dance pad. All of the sudden a small gasp came from the left. Y/N blew it off until after the song ended. They somehow survived the dance onslaught but not without tiring themselves out a little.

Looking to the left now that she could tear her eyes from the screen, she saw a phone being held up by the 13-year-old dance champion from earlier and she realized what happened. Her soul mark with San as well as both hands were now visible. The child was an ATINY. Realizing what had happened, she dragged Yunho away towards the exit. He went along willingly but with a questioning look in his eyes.

As soon as they got out of the door, she looked at him with panic. "The kid was recording us Yunho."

"Oh honey I'm sorry. There isn't a need to freak out though. I warned Hongjoong about my plans and he knew that might happen but you getting a break was more important. A leak a couple of weeks early isn't too big a deal. We had requested a rapid release for the online article as soon as next week. It's okay baby,"

Y/N began to tear up. He panicked and held her close. "Shhh baby it's okay. I will call a driver and we will go home. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this. Don't cry."

"I'm sorry I ruined our date." She mumbled from her position on his shoulder.

"Nothing is ruined baby. Come here." He fixed her smudged mascara. "Let's get us home because honestly I don't know how much longer I would have been able to keep my hands off of you anyway."

----------------------------------------------

Taglist: @vtyb23 @nuggiesnuggetdog04 @anni-3 @mrsminseochoi

[fandom-susceptible]

TDP Rewatch: S1 E3, "Moonrise"

It's interesting that they zoomed on Soren's face as the procession crossed the courtyard, not Harrow's - and that he didn't look nervous, just determined. He was right, too.

God, Harrow cuddling with his bird is the cutest thing. That bird adores him. Also, (who gives the best birdie kisses) "Pip Does." was said so fiercely and then the face he made after, I just. Ah, that hit me in the chest.

How is "hard-headed" more acceptable in your vernacular than "stubborn", Viren? Or are you just the only one you want to be insulting Harrow in public?

It's interesting how Viren's smiling in the coronation portrait, but Harrow isn't. Viren says Harrow insisted on doing the portrait together, but I . . . have my doubts, now.

Yeah honestly Claudia we're on the same page about the persimmon jelly.

Something about how Ezran doesn't hesitate to trust Rayla, and when she kneels in front of the egg she looks at him so softly even though ten minutes ago she was convinced he had to die - and then Claudia, whom Ezran has known his entire life, threatens violence immediately and just keeps spouting threats while trying to get him to cooperate with her. They showed us who these girls were from the very beginning; Claudia acts sweet but in the moment of truth will turn cruel, and Rayla projects coldness but in the moment of truth will offer love instead. It's a neat mirror. And I love the way Rayla smiles at Ezran when he looks to her for reassurance in that very first moment in Viren's dungeon. That moment of yes, I'm with you.

They really sell being teenagers in this first season, and I love it. "NOT THAT WAY!" "WHY?" *runs into wall* "Is this a guessing game? Just do it!" "I'M A MAGE!" *shushes him* "Nobody likes a loud mage."

Also, can we talk about how the first time Rayla actually touched Callum was to shush him in that moment? And how she was the first person to call him a mage? And how she then proceeded to tell him something she's clearly said before, which when I first watched I assumed was just a common saying/joke in Xadia, but after finding out Ethari is a mage might be a family in-joke? Yeah I've got Rayllum feelings why

"What's in the basket? A bigger moth?" omg Soren is SUCH a sarcastic little shit around Viren and I love that for him????

Also, "When all of your swords have failed." is such a clear attempt to undermine Soren's personal confidence, and the worst part is I bet Viren didn't even do it consciously. He's just so used to tearing Soren down that he doesn't have to think about it anymore, it's become automatic. It's a really common trait of abusive parents and I hate him so much for it. (obligatory acknowledgement that I actually love it as a writing choice, it's great. He is a bad guy! I am supposed to dislike him! They did a good job!) But also, Soren responding to it with a spiteful defense of his soldiers was a good moment for him.

"We go way back! Like that one time, ten minutes ago, when you chased me through the castle trying to stab me!" Bless Jack De Sena for Callum's voice acting and also bless whoever animated his and Rayla's expressions in that exchange because I am fucking wheezing

Can we talk about how Harrow's tone was coldly neutral until Viren walked in and sat in Harrow's marriage bed, uninvited, and then the next thing he said - "Your friend?" sounded venomous? Or that fucking single eyebrow raised when Viren said "brother". Harrow is WELL aware that his best friend has a weird gay thing about him, and he regrets not nipping that in the bud before it became this unhealthy obsession.

Yeah that whole "On. Your. Knees." does not get less gay with subsequent rewatches. Like bruh. They showed this to kids. Harrow. I stg. But also, Harrow sees Viren's weird gay obsession and meets his freak by putting him down about it, in a way that they both know he wouldn't if he actually returned it with any kind of affection. Oh, I think all Harrow's dialogue about Viren's arrogance and self-importance was very much also what he meant, I don't think he was talking around anything, but yeah, that was. Wow.

Also ngl Harrow can tell me to do anything he goddamn wants if he talks in that tone, jesus

Interesting. Okay so Runaan does say that humans are liars - he doesn't say there's nothing worth sparing, as Rayla seemed to imply. He's been tricked before. That said, for all he talks a big game about his ruthlessness, he doesn't just shoot Callum outright. He warns him that he's made a mistake and he very much takes his time nocking that arrow. He doesn't want to kill this kid if he doesn't have to.

I also love that one moment where his eyes go wide after Rayla tells him again he needs to call off the mission, in the middle of "You know it doesn't work that way." He glances down at his own bindings and he looks panicked for half a second before covering it in this sudden anger that doesn't quite fit with how he reacted to the egg's appearance. He's scared. He knows she's right, but he's much older, more set in his ways, and doesn't see a way out. He's fucked up. So he just tries to fall back on what he's Supposed to do - just finish the mission, worry about the egg later, because those are the rules.

And then Rayla sends the boys away and forces him to confront those values instead of just falling back on them. Now he doesn't get to separate himself and his feelings from reality. And I don't think she actually believes he'll kill her here, even though he threatens to and she smirks and says "Probably" - if he was willing to do that, he would have done it already, and they both know it. She's just forcing him to confront the conflict between his moral values and his cultural ones.

oh, god, I forgot that Ezran brought up Callum calling him Dad in the very first episode.

I think it's interesting how Runaan accuses Rayla of being "Better than this" while very obviously holding back. He keeps pausing. Rayla's constantly in motion in this fight, whether attacking or defending or just trying to catch her breath, but he attacks once and then waits for her to recover, defends once and freezes up. He can't do this. Now he's the one hesitating and he can't stop doing it. Rayla has to know this too - that's why she sasses him when he realizes she's just stalling, because she knows she's gotten into his head. She knows he can't stop her because he can't bring himself to hurt her. So if she can just call on the fatherly part of him a little more, maybe she can get him on her side. It just doesn't quite work, because he's too set in his ways and his teenage daughter's wild idea is not enough to convince him that turning the entire world upside down is possible.

Do you think Viren had a moment of abject panic when Callum said "I know what you did!" after he came out of Harrow's chambers after switching the king's soul out with Pip's? Like HOW THE FUCK DOES THE KID KNOW, I LITERALLY JUST DID - "You stole the egg of the Dragon Pricne!" oh nvm. wait, what. why does he know that, who - what the fuck is happening right now?

Soren insisting Callum is the prince and refusing to arrest him is another good moment for him. Bless that young man for trying so hard. But also, Viren taking Callum's voice was awful on so many levels, and Soren's lack of surprise makes that one hurt??? Because. Viren had that spell just right there in his sleeve. He constantly undermines and dismisses Soren. Now he's using it so casually on the prince. Has he done this to Soren before? Is that why Soren's face just went so stony and he refused to say anything else after that? Viren is just such a fundamentally awful person and I love to hate him.

Knowing more about the assassins has me watching this scene with so much interest now. It's Runaan's arrow that hits Soren first, but Skor's the first through the door - two blades and brute strength. Ram hits the ground next, going low with no visible weapons, with Callisto and Andromeda flanking him with Callisto's glaive and Andromeda's sickles. Runaan brings up the rear with a bow, and honestly? He's walking in with his horns already at heights Ram and Andromeda leaped to get to, moving the slowest of any of them, not curling in or dodging or anything. He's just strode in leaving himself wide open because fuck you, I guess, what does this bitch have to worry about? That's terrifying.

The fucking "DA!" He does does undercut the intimidation as a viewer tho now I'm just laughing at him because his actor clearly was not out of breath or stressed when delivering that.

I've never noticed before that the elves reacted to Viren's spell releasing Callum's voice. Or that Soren moved between Viren and recovering control of the spell. Skor stepped back from a fight and glanced towards the spell, got distracted by it. Callisto ducked as if he thought it was coming towards him. Ram and Andromeda didn't twitch but Runaan bridled at it too.

Callisto was the first to reach the door but couldn't break it open and Soren went for him. The assassins converge on the door and Soren manages to hold off Callisto, Ram, and Andromeda all at once for a moment before Skor and Runaan step in. Runaan just wholly grabs a guard by the face and throws them to the ground with his bare hands (well, gloved, but weaponless). As in like. Picks them up off the floor and slams them back down one-handed by the face. I know he's an antagonist right now and like we like the guards in Katolis they're fine but also the sheer ability to do that is hot I'm so sorry.

When the elves press the door again after Callum calls for "Dad!" it's Skor to the left, Runaan, and Callisto to the right, and Runaan has zeroed in on Soren as the greatest obstacle to their goals. He's bigger than Soren, has an advantage in height, weight, strength, and experience, and he's bearing down on him but losing time, and Ram ends up lunging in to try and take Soren out while Runaan has him distracted. And it doesn't work, Soren manages to block them both at once. He's genuinely very good at his fucking job and I hate that Viren tore him down so much he doesn't see it.

Oh, fuck. Andromeda was the first elf to fall. We don't see her after the first clash at the door breaks free. Ram disappears briefly but returns at Runaan's side, everyone's converging on the door again, but she's gone.

Rayla's so quickly ride or die for these boys and this mission, and I love her so much for it. "Say the word, and I'll go back into that tower with ye." And she meant it. But she'll also guard them on their way out, when that's what they choose to do instead.

Can we also address that Soren's losing guards left and right to the clash in this tower, and Viren is RIGHT THERE, able to do random magic like stealing the voice from a kid, but he doesn't do a thing to assist in the actual battle? Absolutely nothing to help his son in their alleged shared goal of defending the king?

Runaan stumbles through clutching his side, and given the wounds we see later, I'm guessing Soren kicked him in the ribs to get out of one of their sword locks and broke them. He also can't breathe right. There's a bruise on his jaw and we saw from how Soren fought with Ram (and how he fights later) that he's willing to just punch people with his other hand while he's got them distracted with his sword. I'm betting most of his injuries are from Soren, including the broken horn. We don't see that part happen. I'm actually gonna, once this episode is over, skip ahead to the season 7 finale briefly to see Runaan's retelling of this scene, because I'm curious about those moments between that we missed here.

the binding also doesn't fall off until he reaches the balcony. Pip/Harrow wasn't killed instantly; he just succumbed quickly to what I'm betting was the poison on Runaan's arrow.

The face he gives after releasing the arrow hits, though, because he's reporting a failure. I'm also very interested in like, what he thought would happen for Rayla here. I would have guessed initially that his "Your justice will come later." was meant as him realizing if she stops them, if they fail, she'll suffer becoming a Ghost, but he's surprised by the news in season 7. Did he just assume there wouldn't be a unanimous vote to ghost her? It would sort of make sense; there's a certain amount of arrogance he clearly has regarding his own place in the Silvergrove, and a lot of it's justified by how the community treats him and Ethari. It wouldn't be unreasonable for him to guess that as his daughter and a clearly talented and relatively respectable warrior in her own right, there would be at least a few voices who were reluctant to abandon her entirely, even if she'd have to live with the same of losing her hand to her failure. That's a thing I don't think we give enough credit to, either, is the fact that Ghosting has to be a unanimous decision and therefore, not everyone in Rayla's position ends up ghosted. That's why the bindings are there. She'd have had to sacrifice her hand, but if she was respected enough to begin with to escape a ghosting, that would have been it. She'd pay her price and still get to go home.

Claudia appearing just to insist "we can find more practical uses for this one" gives me the creeps. Like "she sees Runaan and sees spell parts, not a person" kind of creeps.

I'm so very fond of this credits sketch, because it shows just how long Runaan has been in her life. Rayla was 8 when she moved in with him and Ethari - she's clearly younger than that here, and he's already there teaching her things, so clearly fond of her.

It also shows how her facial markings have changed over time; in this sketch we can see that the slash mark used to go both above her brow and below her eye, presumably unbroken (Lain's across the eye markings also cover his eyelids, so stands to reason hers would too). The curve below her eye is also different, where Runaan's remains consistent in this sketch to the show.

I could comment on her reaction to losing Harrow's binding but honestly like. That's been analyzed to death for six years straight. I don't really feel the need to go over something that's been addressed repeatedly in the show already.

Addition after checking the story in Season 7, so don't read further if you haven't seen that yet:

Runaan's horn was not broken yet when he broke into the room. Skor was the only one who made it in after him. So the other assassins may never have seen Harrow at all, and the fighting after the poisoned arrow hit Pip could have lasted for a while, justifying Runaan's ability to vault into the room initially but also barely being able to stumble out onto the balcony in the end.

So Andromeda died before they even got the door open. Skor followed Runaan through the door, but we don't see Callisto or Ram after that point, so they may or may not have made it that far. I would guess that Runaan's grievous injuries were likely due to fighting virtually on his own for an extended period of time, and the brief time he got to send off the shadowhawk was Skor's last sacrifice, keeping them busy for long enough to do that.

[miyagi-hokarate]

Random assortment of season 6 part 3 and series finale thoughts:

It's actually quite hard to formulate articulate thoughts when the overwhelming majority while watching the finale was negativity and disgust

BECAUSE OHHHHH MAN, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT....

I don't even know where to begin

Okay I guess I could start from the beginning. WHY is Kwon's death treated so LAX.

I can't be the only person who thought that Kwon's death and the legal/emotional ramifications of that (or lack thereof) felt so lackluster??? A KID DIED. EVEN BESIDES THE FACT THERE'D BE AN INVESTIGATION ABOUT THIS (because we all know Cobra Kai would ignore a sense of realism if it meant getting to the badass part), DOZENS OF PEOPLE SAW A DEAD PERSON WITH THEIR OWN EYES. I could believe the Sekai Taikai breeding such a competition-hungry crowd that they're cannibalizing themself into turning back towards their fatal "darker" years, but it's sickening seeing these characters want to bounce back without so much as a second thought about what killed Kwon, because it wasn't just a blade. IT WASN'T JUST THE BLADE. WHY DO THEY NOT CARE. Also fuck Mitch for eating nachos during Kwon's moment of silence.

I'm sorry everybody who ships them I truly am but I just cannot deny the fact that I am just anti Jarmen. It's such a stupid thing and I hate that it's come to this point, but genuinely every moment Johnny and Carmen are smiling and being a family made me feel the same sick feeling as watching The Stepford Wives. I just caaaaan't watch Johnny and Carmen be so fucking happy like it's a trad life progaganda campaign. The way Johnny and Carmen barely feel like actual, nuanced characters — ESPECIALLY CARMEN, who gets the short end of the fucking stick when it comes to characterization and Actual Depth — to then be representative of this heteronormative, nuclear family ideal picture perfect bullshit just ruins the idea of them two. This especially hurts Carmen, who's basically stuck in storage until she could be turned on to become Miguel's Mom, Johnny's Girlfriend, Johnny's Wife, the fucking Jarmen baby's MOM AGAIN. Carmen's identity as a character is chained to either her son or her main character love interest, and it's sickening watching the Jarmen scenes celebrate this pastiche of domestic bliss.

I hated the proposal. I don't even have anything else to say about this. I just hated the proposal so much.

The American Exceptionalism present in this part actually made this hard to watch Jesus Christ. There's nothing more awful than watching a sequel television show to a movie trilogy that criticized American militarism and imperialism to now having a blond blue-eyed man barking like a drill sargeant to his child soldiers in a karate tournament with a kill count to "show those international assholes".

This show loooooooves using women to fuel the storylines for men and cutting corners by not even showing the female character's perspective or role just to make it all about the man Kumiko Girl I Am So Sorry.

When I said I wanted Chozen to get all the bitches, this is not what I meant. Chozen Toguchi, you remain one of the weirdest character decays in modern television, and I wish everyone who got you there dead.

I like the Samtory scene :) I'm not gonna pretend and act like Sam and Tory being girl best friends wasn't the thing that made me smile the hardest. WITH THAT BEING SAID, I'm conflicted about my thoughts on Sam's storyline and ESPECIALLY TORY'S. With at least Sam, she's getting the opportunity to explore her future that isn't so tied with karate or Daniel, which is good for her! SURE, it would have been nice to see her compete, but honestly the fact that Sam had a the option to leave karate and did so on her volition because of her values feels mote satisfying to me, compared to Tory and Robby. Regarding Tory, I really wish I could be happy for how her story ends — but, like Robby, there's just something aggravating seeing that karate is made out to be her only option pass high school. And in a way, because we never got anything substantial about Tory's interests and passion outside of karate, it is??? Nevermind that karate — no, COBRA KAI — had gotten Tory into so much trouble, made her into a child soldier for a cult, weaponized her grief and anger, etc. I don't know what a "good" end to Tory's story should have looked like, but it's hard to say for me if this was it.

SPEAKING OF, a character I definitely feel like their story was unsatisfying as fuck was ROBBY. At least Sam had the OPTION to leave. Robby was MADE. AND SURE, HE GETS THE SPONSORSHIP BULLSHIT TOO, BUT WHAT A STUPID DEUS EX MACHINA. And that whole thing about Robby being happy he doesn't need to win, because he has his Family? With Johnny? Shut the fuck up.

Robby coming in to save the day by conveniently daying I wuv you~ to Tory. Fuck you all I hate this fucking show.

ON A HAPPIER NOTE, Miguel's feels more fleshed out and satisfying as a whole. Mayyybe the flashbacks did hit 🙄🙄🙄 Miguel's progression, while it's had its stalls, remains one of the stronger parts of Cobra Kai as a whole, and Miguel's journey culminating into proving himself against Axel and going to his dream college, having grown so much as a person with what he's learned in karate and in life, did pull on my heartstrings. And regardless of everything else, Miguel and Johnny's relationship felt strong from the start and until the end.

You knowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww I was fucking obsessed with the archival footage you knowwwwwwwww

Ralph Macchio and William Zabka were acting their asses off in scenes that otherwise pissed me off

AND YOU KNOW WHAT, KREESE AND SILVER'S DEATH PISSED ME OFF TOO. I can't even formulate the reasons why I find their deaths so unsatisfying, but MAN WHAT THE HELL. The closest I could approximate is just the utter bullshit that is Kreese's redemption arc — NOW is when he realizes the harm he's caused? NOW is when he's going back and apologizing to the people he's hurt? NOW Kreese is the one to do the noble act of killing himself and Silver? Come the fuck ON. I don't even think I'm mad that it's come so late, but that it feels so rushed and contrived to get Kreese and Silver out of the story as quick as possible (WHICH IS A HUGE ISSUE FOR COBRA KAI AS A WHOLE). AND THE FACT THAT NOBODY REALLY REFLECTS UPON THEM MISSING? I SUPPOSE THE OTHER CHARACTERS SORT OF KNEW, BUT NO THOUGHTS? NOTHING? THESE CHARACTERS THAT HAVE MANIPULATED SO MANY, THAT HAVE HURT AND MADE OTHERS HURT, THAT KEEP THESE CHARACTERS IN A CAGE OF TRAUMA — JUST FUCK OFF AND DIE??

AND YOU KNOW WHAT, JOHNNY BREAKING DOWN TO KREESE WHAT HE DID WRONG ALSO MADE ME MAD. Because you know what, Kreese WAS there to be Johnny's role model and he DID teach him strength. And Kreese abused Johnny, poisoned his mind, and want to kill and keep killing him. And it's all connected and the same fist that represented strength is the same fist that beat Johnny down. And I'm so mad that Johnny is angry at Kreese for abandoning him when Kreese had been choking Johnny on a leash, dragging him to throw him into the street. He abandoned you and suffocated you. What the FUCK, Cobra Kai

Idk man I wish I could be happy about Johnny bringing back Cobra Kai. But this EXACT issue has been like this from the beginning, that it's not specifically the NAME or whether it's Johnny or Kreese or Silver or Kim teaching. It's the fact that Cobra Kai, since its inception, is a product of a jingoistic, militaristic fighting technique FROM A US VETERAN that breeds violence and cruelty for the sake of domination and name. I know Cobra Kai (the show) has tried to distance the dojo into being more connected to Korean Tang Soo Do, but it's so fucking frustrating that they'll ignore the dojo's roots in the American Military and specifically American imperialism of Kreese's direct influence because they don't think it's a bad thing!!! I can say so much about how I dislike the the attempt to distance Cobra Kai from Kreese, but ohhh my godddd

Daniel and Johnny 🙃 Mr. Miyagi 🙃🙃

First of all, the AI was ugly as shit

Second of all, the necklace arc coming down to a misunderstanding is aggravating but whatever an immigrant man framed as a criminal sure fucking whatever man. The fact that it's taken this show six seasons to mention the injustice Japanese-Americans suffered through by the American government detaining them under racist suspicion is fucking awful.

Third of all, in spite of Cobra Kai and Daniel carrying the legacy of Mr. Miyagi after his (and Pat Morita's) death, Mr. Miyagi does not feel like an echoed presence in the show. Perhaps this would have been too much to ask for, considering Johnny is the main character, and Cobra Kai needs to have its own identity outside of The Karate Kid in some way. However, the lack of presence (and I don't mean physical) of Mr. Miyagi to me is deafening in its silence. Of all the characters coming back to the Cobra Kai, the one that feels most absent is Mr. Miyagi. How does that absence make its place in the narrative? Do viewers feel his absence? Are they looking back to what Mr. Miyagi taught? Are they missing on his presence? Can they feel what they missed? I don't know if this makes sense, but I'm just thinking about the last of Cobra Kai and their defining legacy on the people who've watched, and those who could have gone through all of Cobra Kai and not cared about Mr. Miyagi. Ughghhggg.

Daniel saying "Cobra Kai never dies" makes me wish I die

Daniel this whole fucking part is just a mess. That dream??? Him manifesting as Kreese??? I can't even express how tired I was of this show. Don't even started on the fucking Cobra Kai gi.

There's so much I hadn't covered: half the cast being missing because Cobra Kai doesn't know how to stop making too many characters to have satisfying presences, the difference in depth between Axel and Zara, the way this show completely bypasses almost all its Asian characters, Chozen getting with Kim are you kidding me, All of Kim really, Laura's grave having the most egregious continuity error I've seen, Binary Boyfriends, etc., but I'm so tired and I hate this show.

It's been a shitshow. I love you all. Goodnight.

[thaliagrayce]

Jason was headed to the Big House when he caught sight of Nico leading a trio of terrified-looking twelve-year-olds to where Mrs O’Leary lay napping in the strawberry fields. It had been Nico’s idea to introduce some of the younger campers to monsters in what passed as a safe environment. He’d argued that Mrs O’Leary could be a great tool for teaching, and for making the kids less likely to panic when they first met monsters in the wild.

Nico looked more and more relaxed as the group got closer to Mrs O’Leary. She lifted her head to give a sniff, and Nico went straight to her and leaned on her sun-warmed flank. Jason always liked watching Nico interact with her. He looked so much more at ease around the hellhound than he did around most campers.

“Spending a lot of time with him recently, huh?

Jason did not jump. It took effort. Leo had materialized on his left, and he was looking at Jason as if he expected a response.

“Yeah,” Jason said once his heartbeat had returned to normal. “Nico’s really cool, once he gets comfortable around you.”

“Hm.” Leo squinted into the fall sunshine to where an Ares kids had tentatively held her hand up for Mrs O’Leary to smell. It was going well until Mrs O’Leary sneezed, and the kid flinched hard enough to fall on her butt.

Jason could almost hear Nico’s laughter from here, if he focused hard enough. He felt himself smiling in response.

“Should I be, like, nervous?”

Blinking, Jason turned back to Leo. “What?”

“Di Angelo isn’t trying to replace me or anything, right?”

Jason snorted. “Of course not.”

“You sure? He looks like a man who’s gunning for the Jason Grace Best Friend title belt,” Leo joked. Jason rolled his eyes at him. Nico looked like a boy who needed to lean on his SUV-sized dog to stay upright when he laughed.

“Aw, come on. You know it’s not the same.”

“How?!” Leo’s tone was light, so he was probably teasing, but Jason still had a hard time differentiating sometimes. Leo was good at hiding his real hurt behind jokes, but he also told a lot of jokes with no substance to them. Whatever raised a reaction. Jason wasn’t sure how serious he should treat this line of questioning.

“I don’t know, it just isn’t. We mess around a lot, right? I’m usually nicer to Nico—”

“So what I’m hearing is it’s different because you treat him better! I’m too late!” Leo cried out, finally pulling free a wire from the walkie talkie he’d been messing with. He flashed a grin at Jason, showing off the disemboweled gadget.

Teasing, then. Jason felt himself relax.

“You wouldn’t want me to be nicer and you know it. Besides, we both know you can take it.”

“And Nico can’t?” Leo was already turning his attention back to the walkie talkie.

“It’s not that, it’s more like…” In the field, Nico reached out his hand to the kid who’d stayed in the back of the group up until now. Even from this far away, the kid looked scared. Nico supported them as they walked up to Mrs O’Leary, though. He held their hand through something that had obviously scared them. It was such a Nico gesture, Jason couldn’t help but smiling.

“He could take it, sure, but he shouldn’t have to. He deserves to be treated gently.”

There was silence for a while, and Jason only really became aware of it when Leo slowly leaned forward into his field of vision. His eyebrows had made a migration toward his hairline, and they didn’t look like they were dropping anytime soon. Jason thought back over what he’d said and blushed. When had he started looking at Nico again, anyway? He turned away from the strawberry field to look at Leo full on.

“Dude,” Leo said.

“Shut up.”

“I was joking before, but like, now I’m not sure. Do I legit have to be worried you like him better?”

“I don’t like him better, I just like him different. It’s totally normal.”

It was true, too. Even more than he’d even realized when he said it. Friendship with Nico didn’t feel like any other friendship he’d ever had. It was… quiet. Intense. It felt charged, but relaxing at the same time. It was contradictory and almost addicting, Jason couldn’t really describe it. He caught himself before his eyes drifted back to the strawberry fields and made himself focus on Leo, who looked dubious to the point of being borderline offensive.

“Different, or—”

“Different,” Jason insisted. “Just like I like you and Piper different. Not better or worse, just… Different.”

Come to think about it, though…

“Sure fuckin' hope you like me and Piper different,” Leo grumbled. “You’re my bro, but I don’t want you pulling your Loverboy moves on me. I mean…” Leo kept going, but Jason was too busy spiraling to pay attention.

He’d said he liked Leo and Piper different, but did he? The way he felt about Leo was a lot closer to the way he felt about Piper than it was to what he felt for Nico, if he stopped to think about. Remarkably similar, really. His palms started to sweat.

Oh gods, he thought. Do I have a crush on Leo?

[xaviesstarlight]

Valentine's Day - Xavier

I wrote a Rafayel Valentine's story, but I have to remain true to my main LI and write one for Xavier too. I hope you enjoy, and happy Valentine's Day!

Aside from the elementary school parties with pizza and store-bought valentines, you have never celebrated Valentine’s Day before. Each year as the day of love came around, you would watch other couples exchange large bouquets of roses, boxes of chocolates, and heart balloons with a soft tightening in your chest. You longed for someone to put you first, to love you with all their heart, but each year seemed to give you the confirmation that you would remain alone forever. That is until Xavier appeared in your life, granting your wish like a shooting star. 

You quickly complete your end-of-day reports at the Hunter’s Association before clocking out. Today is Valentine’s Day. Xavier had not hinted at any plans he has for the evening, but you know him well enough to trust that he has a special date set up for the two of you. The other hunters are gossiping at their desks that Xavier completed all his missions early today and took off without a second glance. Some call him a show-off while others admire his dedication to protecting Linkon. You smile to yourself knowing that if Xavier left work early then he has a special surprise waiting for you once you return home. This is your first Valentine’s Day, and Xavier’s too. You don’t have your expectations too high, but with Xavier, any expression of love is enough to make you giddy for days. 

As you enter your apartment building, you text Xavier that you made it home before getting into the elevator. You want to let him know you’re back safe, but the message is also a ploy to determine which apartment to meet him at. Xavier texts back immediately, asking you to change into something warm, and he will pick you up at your place. Squealing to yourself, you quickly change into your red sweater and white puffer jacket and wait by the door, opening it the moment you hear the first knock. 

Xavier stands before you dressed in his best button-down shirt and white pants while holding a beautiful bouquet of forget-me-nots and baby’s breath. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he tells you before offering the bouquet. Your heart flutters not minding they’re not roses. This choice in flowers is uniquely Xavier, perfectly matching both his personality and love for you. You also know that he probably spent hours with Jeremiah at Philo Flower Shop putting together this arrangement. 

You happily accept the flowers and give Xavier a kiss. “Thank you,” you say against his lips. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I thought we could have dinner and watch the stars. There’s a meteor shower tonight. You could make a wish… or several.” Xavier laughs. 

“Okay.”

Xavier leads you by the hand back to his apartment where he has take-out from your favorite restaurant already placed on the dining room table. “No hot pot?” you ask. You know Xavier loves eating hot pot for every occasion. It’s his favorite meal.

“We always have hot pot,” he answers. “I wanted to give you a meal you prefer today.” 

After enjoying the hot meal, you wrap up in a blanket with Xavier on his balcony as you watch the stars. Luckily, it’s a clear night, so you can see the meteor shower easily despite being in the middle of the city. You rest your head on Xavier’s shoulder while his arms are wrapped around you. You could spend every night with him like this, wrapped in his warmth and enjoying the quiet calm of each other’s company. 

“I wish to spend every night with you like this,” you say quietly, unaware that you spoke out loud.

“I thought that if you share your wishes they don’t come true,” Xavier teases. You pretend to frown and lightly hit his chest. “I’m just kidding. I made the same wish.” Xavier meets your gaze. His eyes shine like the stars as he looks at you. His expression is soft, full of affection. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “I actually got you another gift,” he says as he reaches into his pocket.

Xavier presents you a jewelry box. You know immediately it’s not a ring based on the shape of the box, but your heart still leaps in your chest. He opens it to show you a beautiful necklace with a blue star pendant. The star is the same deep azure as his eyes. 

“Xavier,” you breathe. The necklace is beautiful. You never imagined he would gift you something like this. 

“Do you like it?” 

“Yes, I love it.” Xavier grins as he takes the necklace and puts it on you. “This has been the perfect Valentine’s Day. I don’t deserve you.”

Xavier looks you over as you wear his necklace. He raises his hand to your cheek and slowly rubs it with his thumb. You can’t help but notice that Xavier’s body is also glowing. “It’s I who don’t deserve you. Thank you for being my star who fulfills all my wishes. I love you.” With that, the two of you kiss under the starlight.

[6rookie-writer0110]

I thought the night was done

Sam LaRusso x Male Reader

Request: Cobra Kai, dont know if you have seen the show. male reader x Sam LaRusso.

Y/n is Tori’s ex, during the episode where Sam and Tori is at s childrens party where tori is a mermaid.

•sam sits by the pool just thinking back to when Sam and y/n had a huge fight because Sam admittet to only being with him to hurt Tori’s feelings…

Amanda thought it would be fun to take her daughter Sam to a children’s arcade. But Sam doesn't like the idea, because she thinks it's embarrassing.

“Mom I can't believe you convinced me to come here” Sam sighed

“You used to like this place with your brother. Just have fun and forget everything else” Amanda said

“Fine,” Sam said

Amanda went to get the tokens then Sam and Tory noticed each other. Tory isn't happy that Sam is at her work but Sam is in shock and she can't believe it. Sam watches Tory work and she has on a mermaid outfit. Now, Tory starts to tell a story while Sam sits next to the little kids to hear the story. While, Tory is telling the story, Sam would interrupt and Tory is starting to feel annoyed and angry at Sam.

After that, Sam got up and she was walking towards her mom. Tory convinced the kids to throw glitter at Sam with a story. Tory convinced them that Sam is a witch blending in with normal people. The kids start to run towards Sam and she turned around. Suddenly, she feels the glitter hit her then she sees Tory smiling at her.

“Sam?” You said

She turns around and Tory can't believe you are at the arcade.

“Y/N, w-what are you doing here?” Sam asked

“I should be asking what happened to you? Is it a new trend girls wearing glitter?” You teased

You start to wipe the glitter off her shoulders, then she wiped the glitter off her face.

“Something like that but thanks,” Sam said

“I’m here to check on my niece, she loves this place. i see you around, Sam” You said

You walked away and Sam’s smile went away. Between you and Sam it's complicated and she feels bad for what she did. Sam watches you talk to Tory then your niece hugs you from the side.

“What’s wrong?” Amanda asked

“I think he hates me,” Sam said sadly

Amanda put her arms around her daughter's shoulders and they walked away.

“He doesn't hate you. Why would you think that?” Amanda said

“I really like him a lot. I wasn't an idiot, I used him to hurt Tory’s feelings because she used to date him and I just wanted revenge. When I got to know him, I actually started to like him, and he made me feel special but I ruined it” Sam said

“Oh, Sam you shouldn't have done that” Amanda said

“I know, mom. What should I do?” Sam said

“If you want to make it right with him. Apologize first then tell him how you feel, that's the only thing you can do” Amanda said

“Thanks, mom” Sam said

You are still talking to Tory and she wishes things were different.

“I didn't know you were going to be here,” Tory said

“My niece wanted to be with her friends here and play games, plus she loves mermaids,” You said

“Y/N, I-”

“Tory, I don't want to talk about it. You made it clear you want Miguel not me” You said

While dating Tory, she had feelings for you and Miguel at the same time. She started to spend more time with Miguel and you didn't like that and you forbid her to be friends with him, but she is stubborn and she didn't like you telling her what to do. The relationship got messy then the breakup got messy. While single, you started to spend time with Sam, and Tory didn't like that. But Sam knew and she wanted to use you to hurt Tory, but Sam started to get strong feelings towards you but you broke up with her when you found out what she was doing.

Tory still lhas feelings for you and wants you back. You told Sam and Tory to leave you alone because you didn't want them to keep lying to you.

“I’m hungry, Y/N” your niece said

“Okay, we will leave now and get food. Bye, Tory” You said

“Wait. Maybe we could hang out?” Tory said

“I will think about it,” You said

Tory nods and she was hoping you would say yes. She watched you leave with your niece and she sighed heavily. Your niece starts to tell you what she did for fun and Tory told the story about a witch.

✬ ✫ ✯ ✯

Sam is sitting by the pool with her legs in the water. She starts to think back to when she got into an argument with her ex-boyfriend. She blames herself for what she did and she missed the good times she had with him.

You were walking towards the pool and you saw Sam. You noticed that she is sad, you go up to her and sit next to her.

“Sam?, are you okay?” You asked

“Not really,” Sam said

“What’s wrong?” You asked

“Just this amazing guy I let slip through my fingers because of pettiness,” Sam said

“Tell me about him” You said

“he is so sweet, so hot and so amazing in bed,” Sam said

“I think he still has feelings for you too,” You said

“You think miguel still likes me too?” Sam asked

“Wh-wh-what, I thought… oh haha” You laughed

She did smile then she frowned.

“I’m so sorry Y/N. I regret what I did when I hurt you, I wish I could take it back. When I got to know you, my feelings for you got stronger. I hope you don't hate me” Sam said

“I don't hate you, Sam I mean it. I didn't like what you did but I know how you can make it up to me” You smirked

“How?” Sam asked

“Well there is a bathroom right there, I Can think of a few ways to say sorry” You smirked again

“Let’s go” Sam smiled

You and Sam get up and head to the bathroom. Tory is feeling sad and hurt, because she thought you would talk to her but she saw you with Sam. Tory grabbed her stuff and she went home sad. She wishes was with you right now and not Sam.

You and Sam are in the bathroom kissing each other. Sam is smiling and you have your hands on her ass and you squeezed it hard and let out a small moan. You start to kiss her neck but the moment got ruined because you and Sam hear too many people walking into the bathroom.

✬ ✫ ✯ ✯

It’s valentines day and Sam can't wait to see you. Sam finished decorating the pool house with LED lights, she put the gift by the couch and two cupcakes on the table. She can't stop smiling, before she can check her phone you walk in.

“Wow,” You said

“You are here” Sam smiled

She went up to you and put her arms around your shoulders. Automatically you put your arms around her waist, before you can say a word she starts to kiss you. Her lipgloss got on your lips and you don't let go of her.

“I wanted to surprise you” Sam smiled

“I like it” You smiled

You start to kiss her again. After the kiss, she gave you her gift and you start to unwrap it then you kissed her on the cheek. Then you take out a jewrly box and give it to her and she opens it and she gasps.

“Oh, Y/N I love it” Sam smiled big

You put the bracelet on her wrist then she kissed on the lips. You and Sam sit on the couch and staff to eat the cupcakes. Then you and Dam cuddled on the couch and just started to talk, her head is on your chest and you play with her hair.

[polyamorouspunk]

Gather around girls and gays, my children, mommy is about to date herself here.

This is an actor named Mitchel Musso from Hannah Montana (the show) which ran from 2006-2011. Which would have made me 6-11 years old while watching this, and having a crush on him.

Shows like these were MADE for young girls my age. That transcended into shows and movies featuring the likes of The Jonas Brothers… FOR GIRLS MY AGE.

THESE MOVIES WERE MADE KNOWING THAT TWEENS HAD CRUSHES ON THESE GUYS. THAT WAS THE MARKETING.

Camp Rock came out in 2008! That means all of my friends at 8 years old were simping for The Jonas Brothers! That’s okay! That’s normal!

So when I see kids these days saying they feel “wrong” or “immoral” having crushes on older celebrities/characters, which can really blend together when you have famous musicians playing themselves in movies or content creators who play up versions of themselves on YouTube, for example, it makes me sad! I did NOT become a reformed “not like the other girls” girl to hear kids worry that they are part of the problem!

Girls my age did nothing wrong when they were weird and horny for One Direction and girls and gays that age now need to know they are also not wrong for being weird and horny.

Is it cringe? Fuck yeah it’s cringe. Kidnapped by One Direction really was an era. But that’s part of being a kid!

It just hurts. Kids. Tweens. Teens. Do not fret being weird. Do not fret being cringe. Self ship. Use neopronouns. Become a furry. I don’t care. I didn’t survive the Kidnapped by One Direction era to see the next generation be ashamed to go through that.

Kids these days worrying about being “wrong” for having crushes on older characters/celebrities. Back in my day we were watching porn on the family computer.