#that I’ll never actually make it to that point

[elizbeth-rose]

Oh sweetheart this has been my year! I’m sorry it’s been bad for you. Here’s a little bit of light.

- After living with my parents, who I don’t get along with, for all of 2023 (that was the worse year of my life), I got a job!

- New job 2,000 miles away from my parents. I cried tears of joy.

- I love my job. It’s not my dream job but it makes me so happy. It’s the best job I ever had. The work environment is great and actually I get along with my coworkers and boss, which I never have done before. Plus it pays!

- I made friends! I’ve always wanted a little group of friends to hang out with and play games. Now I can! We have a DND group! I laugh so much now. They enjoy my company!

- I came out as queer and nonbinary in my new home (not to my bio family). Everyone respects me here! They use my pronouns (they/them) and my preferred name. It makes me so happy when I hear my boss talk about me and my work and he keeps using they/them pronouns.

- This year has been the best year of my life. I’m getting in shape. I’m in therapy! I achieving the small goals that I’ve set for myself. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before.

- I’m becoming the person I want to be.

- November was real rough, but I found that it was a little bit easier to get through because of where I am in my journey and the support I now have.

- I’m planning little bits of light for 2025 so I can continue on this path.

- I’m finally getting that tattoo I’ve always wanted. And creating my sense of style with my clothes and my hair.

- I’m going to a concert of my fav band!!! I’m so fuckin excited. I’ve never seen them!

- I’ve written so much more poetry this year and have gotten back into my other hobbies. I’m taking pottery classes. I’m learning a new language.

- I have so many little things planned. I truly feel like I’m growing into the person I want to be.

- I’ve planned on finally finishing my masters degree either in 25 or 26. I was in school during covid and now that I’m in a stable safe environment, I feel like I can finally write my thesis.

- Final point: Today, Jan 3rd, is my birthday! I’m 29. I can confidently say that 2024 was the best and happiest year of my life so far. I don’t do new year resolutions but birthday goals. My birthday goal for this year is to be half as happy as last year and make it to 30! I think I’ll achieve that and more.

Thanks for asking about this. Reflecting on the past year and all the good that happened was a great reminder. Especially after coming back from my bio family’s Christmas. I needed that.

I hope my year of light is helpful for you. I hope it gives you a bit of hope. Even if it’s just a drop. Here’s to the next year and to the next birthday you have. Make it a good one.

hey honest question, did anybody have GOOD stuff happen to them in 2024? cause it was really bad for me and for most people i know, so it would be nice to hear about anything that's been going WELL for any of you. even if it's small stuff. just to know there's light out there.

[p0orbaby]

Your Turn to Bear the Burden was amazing!

Maybe a part 2 or a blurb with Alexia asking R, "Are you still mad?" And making it up to her by bringing her to one of their daughter's football games and just rubbing it in everyones (shiny hair's) face that they are indeed happily married even with their constant loving bicker

something small that follows on from this

-

The pitch smells faintly of damp grass and overcooked hot dogs, the kind you find at community sports events, their red plastic wrappers binned but somehow omnipresent in spirit. Alexia holds your hand as you weave through clusters of other parents, her grip firm, almost possessive. You know this isn’t just about Aina’s match. This is about her. About Shiny Hair, who you’ve recently discovered is actually called—of course—Catalina.

You’re here because Alexia asked you to come, her tone as careful as if she were handling a volatile substance. She didn’t have to spell it out. You knew. This wasn’t just a casual Saturday morning family outing. It was an event. A declaration. A parade.

And you’ve made up—well, you’ve reached a state of détente, which is close enough. The argument about Catalina was settled with a lengthy, painstaking conversation at 11:32 p.m. two nights ago, during which Alexia’s “I don’t even like her!” was met with your razor-sharp “Good. Then she’ll be thrilled to know I’ll be coming along to training drop-offs from now on”

“Don’t be weird today,” Alexia mutters under her breath as you approach the sidelines.

“I’m never weird,” you reply, your tone saccharine, squeezing her hand in a way that’s more threatening than reassuring.

The parents’ section is crowded, folding chairs scattered in half-hearted rows, some people standing to get better views of their kids. And there she is—Catalina, of course, already perched in the best spot, laughing at something someone just said. Her hair shines in the morning sun like she’s auditioning for a Pantene ad.

“Did you see? Aina’s already warming up,” Alexia says quickly, drawing your attention back to the pitch, where your daughter is stretching with the kind of seriousness only a six-year-old takes into warm-ups.

“She’s a professional,” you say, watching her. Aina has Alexia’s determination, her unrelenting focus, and probably her taste for grudges, too. You love that about her.

Alexia stands beside you, taller, proud, her other hand shoved in her jacket pocket. She’s wearing that cropped burgundy Nike YOON cardigan she’s kept all these years in an attempt to maintain her youth. Though you have to admit, she looks better than anyone here has the right to look, which you suspect is deliberate.

“You’re staring,” she says, without looking at you.

“You like when I stare at you”

“I do,” she admits, glancing at you briefly, a triumphant smirk tugging at her lips.

The game kicks off, and the next twenty minutes are a chaotic blur of small children running with alarming intensity. Aina, predictably, is everywhere. The ball seems magnetised to her, and you can’t help but feel that Alexia’s genes are showing off today. She scores twice, both times with a little fist pump that makes your chest ache with pride.

Catalina claps politely. Alexia doesn’t. She cheers, loud and clear, her voice slicing through the sideline chatter like a knife. “¡Bien, Aina! ¡Muy bien!” She throws an arm around your waist as she says it, pulling you in close. You’re not sure if it’s for your benefit or Catalina’s, but you let her have it.

At half-time whistle, Alexia makes a point of leaning in to kiss you She keeps it casual, but the timing is far too perfect to be anything but calculated. Catalina looks over. Alexia doesn’t notice—or pretends not to. You, of course, do.

“Subtle,” you say as she hands you a paper cup of coffee she must’ve queued for while you weren’t paying attention. Or burning holes into Shiny Hairs head.

“Why would I be subtle?” Alexia replies, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re my wife”

Catalina drifts closer during the second half, probably to position herself nearer to the action on the pitch, but you can feel her presence lingering. When Aina scores her third goal, Catalina lets out a low whistle.

“She’s incredible,” Catalina says, beaming at Alexia as if she wasn’t the one who taught your daughter how to feint past a defender.

“She gets it from her mothers,” you say, smiling sweetly. Alexia’s hand finds the small of your back, and you’re almost certain she’s trying not to laugh.

When the game ends, Alexia spends twenty minutes chatting with Aina’s coach, with her arm slung over your shoulders the entire time. It’s less a conversation and more a public exhibition of marital bliss.

In the car, Aina babbles from the backseat about how she’s the best on her team, and Alexia sneaks a glance at you, her expression softer now, almost shy.

“Still mad?” she asks, knowing full well your annoyance with her lasts as long as a sugar cube in water.

You take your time answering, watching the houses blur past the window. “No,” you say eventually, “but next game, I expect you to wear a shirt with my face on it. Maybe one that says, ‘She’s my wife, and she’s always right.’”

“Always right?” she echoes, and you notice a slight lift of her eyebrows under her sunglasses.

“Always,” you reply, deadpan. “That’s non-negotiable”

[yuikomorii]

AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 1

// I present to you… MY FIRST EVER FANFIC! It’s inspired by these headcanons and these posts. As mentioned before, in this story, the Sakamakis are simply regular idols with a vampire-themed concept; they’re not actually vampires or related. Since I noticed how much you all enjoy this kind of content and have been so supportive, I thought you might like a fanfic based on it. ☺️

I’m by no means a professional writer, and my style leans more towards the visual novel/otome game format. Even so, I hope you’ll like it! 💕

Voice announcement: Ladies and gentlemen, we have now arrived at our destination.

Before you disembark, please take a moment to ensure you have all your personal belongings with you. For your safety, mind the gap between the train and the platform edge as you exit.

We sincerely thank you for choosing our services and travelling with us. It has been our pleasure to serve you, and we hope to welcome you aboard again soon. Take care!

Yui: ( Eh? Is this…—! )

— eyes widen —

I’m here… I’m finally here!

Yui’s Monologue

I can’t believe my dream is actually coming true! All this time, this seemed like a childish wish but right now I truly am in Tokyo…!

Uuh… I’m getting a bit emotional, but can you blame me? It simply feels… surreal.

I never thought my father would agree to let me join a work exchange program in such a massive and dynamic city.

To be honest, I was half expecting him to say no, but it seems he believes in me more than I thought.

Knowing that he trusts me this much… it really makes me want to work even harder to prove he made the right choice.

Yes, that’s so. I will try my best to make father proud!

— takes big breath —

Yui: Nice to meet you, Tokyo. Let’s make this journey one to remember.

Place: Studio

Photographer: And~… pose! Ah yes, exactly like that! Keep on, keep on!

Ayato: ( Man, this shit is so tiring at this point. )

— smiles falsely —

Photographer: W-Wonderful…! Another one, thank you!

— keeps taking pictures —

Ayato: ( Can this woman stop blinding me with that flashlight already? It’s past 11 pm… )

Photographer: Now, a profile sho——

Manager: Hold on.

Pardon my intrusion, but I believe we already have enough pictures for today. Don't you think so?

Photographer: Eh? But we just got star— Oh my, it’s almost 12 am!?

G-Geez, my apologies. I guess the saying “time flies when you’re having fun” must really apply here.

— winks at Ayato —

Ayato: ( Gross! )

Manager: If more promotional pictures are required, we can extend the photoshoot to tomorrow. Watanabe-san, would it be possible for you to arrive earlier if that is the case?

Photographer: With such eye candy around, who could resist spending more time with him~?

Fufu, just kidding. I'll contact the director and get back to you with an answer as soon as possible.

Until then, have a good night! Bye-bye~!

— leaves —

Ayato: Haa… thanks goodness! One more photo, and I might’ve completely lost it.

Manager: I understand completely. Given your schedule, it’s clear you’re quite overworked. Nevertheless, it’s impressive how you still manage to perform so well.

Ayato: Heh… thanks.

— rubs eyes —

Manager: You look a bit tired, Ayato-san. Rest assured, the limousine should be arriving soon.

Ayato: Right, the limo is on its——

( Fuck! I can’t believe I almost forgot about it! )

Wait! Now that I think about it, I’ve got something else to take care of.

So… don’t mind me! Go ahead and take the limo; I’ll call for another one later.

Manager: Haa… Ayato-san.

You're not planning to do something that could get you into trouble, are you?

Ayato: O-Of course not! It’s just… no, it’s nothing important. Just a silly little thing I remembered I had to solve.

— tries to leave —

Manager: Ayato-san!

Ayato: Huh?

Manager: Do NOT let anyone see you, understood?

— Ayato nods and leaves —

???: You’re late.

Ayato: …!

Man, you almost gave me a heart attack!

Laito: My bad~. You came prepared at least, didn’t you?

Ayato: Yeah, yeah.

— puts cap and mask on —

Laito: Nfu, let’s go, shall we?

Place: Street

Yui: Uuh… come on! Why is no taxi in sight?

( It’s been two hours and I still couldn’t find my way to the Airbnb. )

( I knew Tokyo was huge, but I wasn’t expecting the transportation system to be this complicated… )

— looks at sky —

( It’s already late, huh? )

( I wonder if it’s safe for a girl to roam on these streets at this hour. Well, at least I hope it is, otherwise… )

Place: Private Night Club

Laito: Two Cosmopolitans. One for me, and one for that very fine lady over there, nfu.

Ayato: Another glass of Tequila.

Laito: Heh, another one? Is this the fifth by chance?

Ayato: I had a busy week, okay?

Laito: Ah, of course you did. After all, our Ayato-kun is the IT boy of this generation. Always swamped with brand deals, while the rest of us barely get a crumb~.

Ayato: …Not funny.

Laito: C’mon, don’t take it too seriously.

— pats his back —

I doubt any of us could care less about brand deals anyway. The idol job already pays well enough, and with barely any time for ourselves, why would we want to give up even more of our freedom?

Ayato: ( It’s not like it’s my choice though. )

Well, I can’t deny that the love I get is cool and all, but sometimes… hmm, how do I put it? It feels like people only like me because I’m an idol, y’know?

Laito: That’s to be expected, isn’t it? Fans often form a one-sided connection with idols simply because we’re constantly visible and accessible through the media, without really knowing who we are or what we’re capable of.

On top of that, you’re the visual, the face everyone admires. Who wouldn’t be drawn to someone who's not only stunning but also famous? It’s like the perfect package for embodying every girl’s fantasy.

Ayato’s monologue

Laito… he always knows what to say.

Seriously, this guy is so aware of everything around him to the point that it’s becoming unsettling.

And the worst part? He’s not just talking—he’s right, which is why it almost hurts to hear it.

At the end of the day, we idols are just puppets, carefully crafted to feed into the fans’ delusions. They don’t see us for who we truly are, but rather as a fantasy they can cling to.

And we, caught in the spotlight, are forced to live out that role.

Before becoming an idol, I was surrounded by people who kept me around because of my looks. At first, the amount of attention felt good, but as I mature, I realize just how hollow that really is.

I can’t help but wonder… if it weren’t for my appearance or status, would anyone actually treat me nicely? Would anyone be willing to accept me, flaws and all?

Heh… now I just sound stupid. As long as I’m an idol, I doubt I’ll get my answer anytime soon.

Waitress: Here we go, gentlemen. The Cosmopolitan and the Tequila.

Laito: Hello, earth to Ayato-kun, are you still in there?

— waves in front of his eyes —

Ayato: Yeah, yeah. I was just spacing out a bit.

Laito: Nfu, cheers.

Ayato: Cheers.

— they start drinking —

Ayato: Ngh…!

( My chest… it started aching! )

Laito: Hm, you good?

Ayato: Y-Yeah… I just— Ngh!

( It’s getting worse! )

I need some fresh air, that’s all.

— quickly puts on mask and cap —

I’ll be right back.

— quickly goes outside —

( Haa… Haa… what is happening…!? )

Agh… fuck!

( It hurts…! Could this be…—— )

— eyes widen —

( No… No, don’t tell me this is a real heart attack! )

Hnn… Ngh!

( What… what should I do now!? )

???: Quick! Please, drink this!!

— hands him water —

Ayato: Huh…?

— takes it and starts drinking —

???: A-Are you feeling better? I got another bottle in case you need it too.

Ayato: Haa… Haa… It’s okay now, all good.

???: Are you sure…? You really seemed in a lot of pain.

Ayato: Yeah… no worries.

( This girl… she just saved my life, didn’t she? )

By the way, uhm… thanks for that.

???: A-Ah, it’s nothing, really.

As far as I recall from my father, drinking water after alcohol can help reduce chest pain and lessen the severity of a hangover. I’m glad to see that it actually works.

Ayato: Heck yeah, I’m glad to see that it worked too, otherwise who knows how I would have ended up.

— the girl giggles —

???: You should be more careful though. Drinking too much alcohol can be very dangerous.

Ayato: ( Okay, mom. )

Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’m not usually like that.

Moreover… why exactly did you help me?

???: Eh? What do you mean?

Ayato: ( Could it be that she actually recognized me? )

( My face is practically hidden behind the mask and cap, and we’re in the dark, so there’s no way she could have, right? But if she did… )

???: Uuh… I suppose it was out of pure instinct.

Ayato: Instinct, huh?

???: Yup. You see, I heard you struggling, so there was no way I could brush that off.

Ayato: Hmm… But wait a minute, what were you doing all alone at this hour?

( What if she’s a stalker then? )

???: Ah… uhm… T-That’s a bit embarrassing to say out loud.

Ayato: Oh, come on, you straight up saw me about to drop dead from drinking Tequila. There’s no way this could be more embarrassing than that.

???: Actually… today’s my first day in Tokyo, and I’ve been struggling for almost 3 hours just trying to get to my Airbnb.

I tried taking the subway, but there were way too many lines, and I got lost at some point.

As for taxis, every time I tried to flag one down, the driver just ignored me.

Ayato: ( Nevermind, I’m taking it back. This might truly be more embarrassing. )

Pfft, why didn’t you call for a cab then?

???: I couldn’t find any reliable number…

Ayato: Hmm… Alright then.

I just arranged one for you. You’ll just have to tell them your location and wait for them to get you there. There’s also no need for you to pay.

— lends her money —

???: E-Eh!? Thank you… thank you so much! But I’m sorry, I just can’t accept the money!

Ayato: Nah, it’s fine, seriously. After all, you’re the one who helped me first.

Just promise me you won’t tell anyone about what happened today. Understood?

— the girl nods —

Ayato: Heh, great. Well, I guess it was nice to meet you. Now it’s time for me to return.

???: W-Wait! I forgot to catch your name!

Ayato: …!

( So she really doesn’t know me? )

It’s——

( No… it’s too risky. )

Oh look, the cab arrived! You should hurry up!

???: But—

( He left…? )

Yui’s monologue

As the taxi started moving, I found myself looking back, almost subconsciously, hoping to catch one last glimpse of that boy.

Today had been exhausting, but despite the strange circumstances in which we met, those brief minutes spent with him were oddly comforting.

I wonder who he is and what his life is like. It feels a bit silly, I know, to be thinking so much about someone whose name I don’t even know.

But there was something in his presence that made me feel in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.

Whatever it was, it stuck with me, lingering in my thoughts even after we parted ways.

My journey has only just begun, and yet I can’t shake the feeling that meeting him was no coincidence.

I really hope I get the chance to cross paths with him again.

[quirekey]

Can i request an Orion x gn!reader x d16 but the two try to fight for readers attention and friendship?

<3 pleeeeeeeaaaassse?

Live laugh Orion x Reader x D16 fr dude, I love this request dude I WAS WAITING FOR THIS

[ ORION PAX ] x [ GN!READER ] x [ D16 ]

[ Orion pax x D16 x Cybertronian!GN!reader ]

You were a pretty quiet Cybertronian Miner. Socialising wasn’t something you enjoyed and you preferred the peace and quiet instead of the constant bustling that you will hear. Not having any connections did make your job more lonely since every-bot had someone to call a friend while you are working your aft off in the mines.

After working in the mines for a while, these two mechs named Orion Pax and D16 turned out to become your closest friends you ever had yet. The three of you guys always got into some sort of trouble that was started by Orion and you three are inseperatable in the mines.

Overtime, the two have become possessive and each wanted one-on-one time with you and only you. It’s not that they were not friends anymore, they just had a disagreement on who should talk to you.

D16 thinks it’s unfair how Orion can just pull you away from him just to get in trouble by the higher-guards. D16 thinks that it’s rude to pull you away from what you are already doing and assumes that you just wanna talk to him instead of going around since it’s better to stay by the the rules instead of rebelling.

Orion thinks that it’s unfair because D16 is constantly bickering and yapping to you about whoever his new interest or idol is and nothing else. Orion assumes that you think it’s boring and it’s better to get your body moving and frame in shape instead of being isolated in the mines.

They’re both fair reasons but they keep vouching for you and assuming what you want, you’re just too scared to speak up. The two are now constantly fighting over you since they always want your attention and that you enjoy only their company.

“D, you have kept them inside of this isolating waste for so long! It wouldn’t hurt to at-least go outside and get some real light in your optics!”

“Well, I want to keep (Y/N) safe unlike you. You always get them into trouble and you guys could get punished! This is for their safety.”

“Well, you’re only online for so long.”

“At-least I’ll be online for longer than you.”

“And at least I am actually doing something with my life instead of staying in the mines.”

D16 just scoffed and walked off. D16 still cares for Orion but doesn’t want to admit it due to their friendship being at stake. Orion just smirked and shrugged at you, basically not caring one bit about the guy he used to hang out with every klick (minute).

“(Y/N), why is D now so down? He’s changed.”

“I’m not sure…”

You lied to him, you knew both of their secrets to a T but it was best to not share. You are pretty observant so you took some mental notes overtime and you’d reflect over them. Both D16 and Orion Pax are always fighting for your approval and friendship but seemingly their actions prove otherwise. They are way more affectionate than your regular friends and some could never be considered as platonic unless you are really close with them. You didn’t mind their affection but it was strange that they wanted you and only you.

It gets to a point where D16 gives you small kisses on the cheek when he walks by or Orion brings you somewhere empty then asks you to cuddle. You never declined because you didn’t mind but it was hard to pick between the two. You knew they liked you and you liked them back, the problem was that they didn’t want to share.

You just walked away from Orion and thought to yourself

‘Why did this have to happen to me…?’

Well you’re lucky enough that I enjoyed this because now I’m gonna continue this overtime… bigger poll than normal that’s for sure.

[dreamfaerye]

Like 99% of your Rafes ain't shit but something about this one got me like EXTRA spicy!

The sugar baby part was ok, besides him being a dick, good for her. But striking when she was most vulnerable again and again, the drugs, the REVENGE PORN!!! I would have crashed out SO DAMN BAD. Actually, nah, we wouldn't have even gotten to this point, I have no issue packing whatever I have and starting anew somewhere else, broke and alone (have done it several times). And I definitely couldn't stay there after he sent that video to EVERYONE IN TOWN WHAT THE FUCK?!

I'm also pissed at her mother! It's one thing to not have life insurance but all that debt and she didn't tell reader jack shit???

I know you've said Rafe doesn't love any of the Readers (does he even know what love is?? I mean, romantic wise) but he seems especially down bad for this one, idk what it is. This is his 'love' I think. Incredibly toxic.

You didn’t know what kind of hard on Rafe had for fucking someone he deemed so far beneath him, even more so to go through so much trouble of forcing you right back into his bed. You didn’t understand it one bit, and part of you never wanted to.

“I missed this pussy so much,” he murmured, lips grazing the corner of your mouth as he spoke. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

You hadn’t before, but you did, now.

“I’ll stop calling your friends dirty Pogues if that makes you feel better,” he whispered, a gentle kiss from his lips to yours. “...but you still belong to me.”

White Lines & White Knights

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, pr*stitution, power imbalance, classism, mentions of death, jealousy, humiliation, revenge p*rn, drug dealer!Rafe, drug use, Pogue!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: You and Rafe are using each other until you decide that's not what you want anymore, and the spoiled rich kid will do whatever it takes to have his expensive toy back in his bed.

⭑

Your door shut behind you with a resounding click, and once in the comfort of your home, you took the time to decompress. You took advantage of your much needed reprieve, the back of your head grazing the wood as you allowed your eyes to fall closed. Your heart was still beating wildly in your chest, and you wondered if a day would come where it ever wouldn’t. After all, this wasn’t exactly “new” anymore…

It had been five months since you buried your mom, five months since you discovered the mountain of debt she’d done an impressive job of hiding from you, and five months since you thought you’d be homeless on the street in less than one. In two weeks, you’d dealt with a loss you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another forty years or so and took on the kind of responsibility you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another three.

Your mom died 152 days ago…

…and you’d started fucking Rafe Cameron less than a month later.

You liked to pretend to not know why you slept with Kildare’s prime rich boy that fateful Saturday night, but you were far more self aware than you wanted to be. Even if you weren’t, it wasn’t exactly some mysterious string of decisions that lead to being tangled up in the sheets with Sarah’s asshole of an older brother. You didn’t need to pay someone to diagnose you.

You were grieving.

It was really just that simple, and the monetary stress on top of that drove you to find comfort in strange drinks and hard drugs. To this day you still didn’t know if Rafe just happened to be at the right place at the right time or if he heard whispers about John B.’s best friend snorting pills and getting shit faced when her usual crowd was looking the other way, but either way, the stuffy Kook clearly saw an opportunity to kill several birds with one stone.

“First two lines are free,” he’d told you that night, the bass of the music downstairs muffled by the expensive walls of some girl’s house.

You remembered how you’d chuckled, drunkenly shaking your head.

“Well, two lines is all I’m doing, I guess,” you’d murmured, throwing your hands up.

Rafe’s smirk had been cruel, a mocking glint in his blue eyes.

“What?” he’d dragged out, head tilted. “Spent all that life insurance money, already?”

Any other time and Rafe’s insensitivity might’ve upset you, but at the time you’d been drunk out of your mind and looking for more ways to forget the sudden absence in your life.

“I can’t imagine why Sarah hates you,” you’d sarcastically replied, approaching the impressive desk and leaning over to inhale a line.

You wiped your nose as you straightened, lashes fluttering as you ignored the feeling of Rafe’s gaze on you.

“I’ll be lucky if I even have a house to live in next week.”

The words had come out slurred, accompanied by a light chuckle, and deep down you’d felt the flutter of stress that you’d been desperately ignoring for weeks. You’d quickly snorted the other line, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Turns out my mom was skilled at hiding more than just illnesses…”

You remembered the silence—from both you and Rafe—and how in that moment you’d allowed yourself a solid four seconds of lingering on the reality of your predicament. In those four seconds, your eyes had watered and your lips had trembled and your throat had tightened, and after those four seconds, you were turning to Rafe with a haughty smile.

“Guess you won’t be finding a new client in me, huh?” you’d wondered with a shrug, finding a seat on the desk.

Rafe’s blue gaze had been unreadable as he eyed you, sitting in the chair at the desk, legs spread as he ran his eyes over you—slowly and in a way you didn’t hate at the time. You hadn’t been able to tell what he was thinking, although looking back, you wondered how it wasn’t so obvious to you then. Maybe because it was just too cruel of a thought, and while it was no secret Rafe was a spoiled asshole, you had never once thought of him as cruel.

Rafe had merely shrugged.

“There’s plenty of fish in the sea,” he’d slowly said, the corner of his pink lips curving upwards just a tad. “Besides…”

You’d watched him stand, rounding the desk to come and tower over you where you sat.

“I like to think of myself as a pretty ethical kind of guy…”

You’d started to snort at that before his gaze met yours again, and you found yourself swallowing whatever you were about to say. You hadn’t done a thing when Rafe reached up to touch your arm, the feel of his finger so light. You hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the way your heart skipped a beat at both his close proximity and the change in atmosphere. You hadn’t been able to ignore—however—the heat that settled in the pit of your stomach.

“...and I’ve been known to meet people halfway. Accept whatever they can offer…”

You remembered your internal conflict that night.

You’d been drunk and high and sad…not stupid. You knew exactly what Rafe was insinuating to you, and you’d struggled with the idea of really sleeping with Rafe Cameron for more drugs. The man was far from unattractive, sure that if drugs weren’t involved you’d still consider sleeping with him. If you’d believed in any of that, you’d imagine that your mom was turning over in her grave. At the time though, you hadn’t been quite sure as to what you believed in, so when he took your silence for consent, leaning in and touching your nose with his…

You hadn’t stopped him when he closed the distance.

You hadn’t even known whose house you were at, only internally apologizing to them for having sex on their expensive desk. You didn’t know if it was the drugs or the alcohol or simply Rafe Cameron, but it was easily the best sex you’d ever had in your life, and at one point you’d really considered how much better it could possibly be to fuck him without the condom.

You had no idea that you’d eventually find out.

Once dressed, you’d walked home with a small bag of pills and a satisfied grin. You knew that your friends would host some kind of intervention if they ever found out, but all you’d been able to focus on was the simple fact that fucking Rafe Cameron for a little coke and pills wasn’t sounding like the worst idea. Of course, if you’d known that you’d eventually start fucking him for your livelihood, you might’ve made different choices that night.

You pressed your hand to your face and pushed away from the door, eager to start the shower and scrub the stench of him off of you. Per routine, you took the money out of your pocket before getting undressed, eyeing the wad of one hundreds that now sat on your nightstand. Two grand was nothing to someone like him, but to someone like you, it made all the difference in the world.

…and Rafe knew that.

He’d known that when he handed you a thousand dollars one night, the coke in your system just starting to hit. You’d looked up at him from where you sat in confusion, hesitantly wrapping your hand around the money as you alternated between eyeing it and eyeing him. You hadn’t known how to feel about it, especially since it had only been moments ago when he was inside of you…and there he was handing you a grand in hundreds.

“Don’t look like that,” Rafe had chuckled, walking to his dresser in search of a shirt. “You know you need the money.”

He wasn’t wrong…and that was the problem.

Unless you hit a lucky streak in life, you’d always need the money, and that was exactly why you were in the predicament you were in—four months later and putting up with the monster that was Rafe Cameron just to keep a roof over your head. The thought brought tears to your eyes, positive now that your mom could see you and was beyond disappointed in you. 

Her disappointment could only be outdone by your own.

You were in a situation that you couldn’t get out of, on the verge of ending this arrangement so many times before asking yourself what better way could you pay your mom’s debts and survive? It wasn’t easy money by far, but it was fast money, and it was the kind of money that would take months to make at whatever low paying job you’d find around Outer Banks. Someone like you rarely got hired at the country club or working for some rich snob who wiped their ass with the kind of money you needed.

Rafe knew this too.

Tears kissed your eyes as you scrubbed your skin raw, wishing that you could scrub away the nasty bruise right along with the sweat and grime. You winced every time you touched it, cursing the blond and feeling one of those moments where you considered blocking him and moving on from this pathetic era in your life for good.

Fucking Rafe Cameron for drugs didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time, fucking him for money seemed like an even better one…until that entitled attitude started to extend to the woman he was paying good money to have access to. You remembered the first time you opposed something he wanted to do, the way in which he ignored you, the way he merely pressed your face into the pillow to shut you up.

It was the first time you felt truly icky about this whole situation.

Not even just icky.

…but afraid.

“I don’t pay you to tell me what you will and won’t do in bed,” he’d chuckled at you like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

You’d still been trembling and wiping mascara from your cheeks.

“I pay you because I want to fuck you,” he’d slowly whispered to you, leaning in. “...and you let me because you don’t want to be sleeping on the beach.”

He’d held your gaze for what felt like too long, impressing upon you the true dynamic of this arrangement, and you remembered the unease that had festered in your gut that day. Maybe all the drugs and alcohol hadn’t allowed you to fully look at this arrangement for what it was and the power imbalance here, but you had for the first time that day, and you hadn’t liked it.

You liked it even less now, wrapping the towel around you and wondering how you were ever going to get out of this predicament you’d put yourself into.

“My family’s going out of town for the weekend,” the familiar blond mumbled to you as he inhaled a familiar powdery substance off the back of his hand. “Pack a bag when you get home, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at that, huffing instead.

“I can’t spend the whole weekend on Figure 8,” you told him. “I have plans.”

Rafe nodded, and you hated the smile that danced across his lips.

“Okay, uh, be ready at 8, I don’t want-.”

“Rafe, I’m serious,” you cut him off, shrugging. “I can’t stay at your house all weekend.”

You watched him watch you, slowly swiping his tongue between his lips as a frown started to take over. His dirty blond hair kissed his brows, and the longer the silence stretched, the more nervous you grew. You watched as Rafe glanced away, seemingly deep in thought before those baby blues of his rested on you, much colder than they were a few seconds ago.

“What the hell am I paying you for?” he whispered.

The question was rhetorical, and you swallowed.

“Rafe…I’ve barely seen my friends in months. I finally made plans to meet up with them for more than five minutes and-.”

“...and whose fault is that?” he shrugged.

You frowned at him.

“Nobody told you to go off on a bender when your mom kicked the bucket…” you blinked at his callousness. “Maybe you should’ve been finding comfort in your friends instead of drugs and vodka…and me.”

He finished his sentence with a soft—and yet cruel—smile.

“I pay you good money—great money even!—to be available when I want you to be, and unless you’ve found some other rich asshole to open your legs for, which I doubt…be ready tomorrow at 8.”

He was standing, now, looking down at you where you sat on the bed. The harsh reminder of your roles here had you looking away, and Rafe turned away when he rightfully took your silence as confirmation. You stared at the wall for a few moments before turning to stare at his back, thinking to yourself that this couldn’t go on much longer. Whether it took 1 or 5 jobs, you couldn’t keep relying on Rafe Cameron forever.

What was once a weekly occurrence had turned into something entirely other, and it hadn’t bothered you so much when your mother’s death was still so fresh and you were seeking solace in the worst coping mechanisms known to man—including isolation. Now, however, you were waking up to the choices you’d made and you hated the feeling of being inebriated and being surrounded by people you barely knew.

You hated being away from your friends.

“I didn’t even know you’d gotten a job,” John B. said to you hours later, looking disappointed but understanding. “JJ’s gonna be real disappointed. He’s been talking all week about having you try some new weed he got.”

You gave a light laugh at that, a pang in your chest at how much you missed doing stupid shit with them.

“Yeah,” you sadly said. “The world—and bills—doesn’t stop just because my mom died.”

The brunette grew quiet at that, worriedly eyeing you now.

“You doing okay…?”

You sighed at that, looking out over the yard of The Chateau, fiddling with your fingers as you thought of a certain blond.

“I’ve been better, but…I’ve been worse too.”

Your answer was honest, and you briefly wondered what John B. would think if he knew just how bad ‘worse’ had been. You didn’t think any of them would hate you if they knew the full extent of just how far you’d fallen, but you knew they’d have a hard time wrapping their head around it. The drugs and alcohol were one thing, but Rafe Cameron was entirely another. The man was the worst example of a Kook if there was one, representing every bad trait attributed to them.

Your friends would not understand you essentially sacrificing your self respect for money and drugs.

Sometimes you didn’t understand it either. 

Most especially when Rafe had his hands around your neck.

He picked you up at 8 on the dot Friday night—a man of his word if nothing else—and less than a hour later you were bent over his father’s desk as he pounded into you. Your head was hanging off of it, fighting hard to not scrape your nails against the dark mahogany. It wasn’t the first time Rafe fucked you on Ward’s desk, and you doubted that it would be the last time. There’d even been a few rare occasions when he fucked you in the older man’s bed, and you didn’t know what complex the blond had that fueled these decisions, but you weren’t a psychologist so you figured it wasn’t anything to concern yourself with.

Despite the tight grip on your throat, a choked moan managed to escape every time Rafe pushed his cock into you. Sweat made his skin glisten, and you were sure you fared no better. His hair wasn’t so neat, now, and you had the stray thought that you preferred it that way. Rafe being so far from ugly definitely made this arrangement easier to swallow down at times, but other times it just made you angry.

How was it fair that someone seemingly had everything, including the big dick to match?

Rafe walked around like he was God’s gift to the world, possessing one of the most rotten personalities you’d ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of, and he seemed to be rewarded with it with everything the average person could only dream about. As if any of that wasn’t enough, you practically rewarded him with even more by essentially telling him he could do whatever he wanted so long as the price was right.

It made you disgusted with yourself at times.

When he pressed a hand to your stomach, hips slowing to a pace that made your breath hitch, you squeezed your eyes shut. In the quiet office, the sound of his cock disappearing between your folds was loud, the wet noise telling you that there’d no doubt be a mess left on Ward’s desk when this was all said and done. You heard Rafe curse, and you didn’t have the energy to lift your head from where it hung off the desk.

“...and to think,” he panted from above you. “You were going to pass this up to sit around with those dirty Pogues.”

At this, you did attempt to sit up, a hand against his chest and one on the desk as he thrusted into you.

“Those ‘dirty Pogues’ are my friends,” you forced out, lashes fluttering. “...and clearly you forget that I’m one too.”

Rafe merely chuckled at that, perfect teeth winking at you as he grinned.

“Yeah, but you’re my dirty Pogue so it’s a little different.”

His words had your frown deepening, disgust filling your chest at the way he talked about you while literally fucking you. Completely turned off, you turned your head away, attempting to separate yourself from him. That haughty laugh reached your ears, and to your dismay, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“What…?” he lazily drawled. “You don’t like the sound of that?”

“You’re being an asshole, get off of me…”

He jerked his hips against you, making you gasp, and you squirmed in his arms as you fought to get away. Rafe leaned in to harshly nip his teeth at your cheek, his movements growing rough, causing the desk to shake.

“I’ve spent too much money on you to not say whatever the hell I want,” he evenly said. “So, yeah, at this point, I’ll confidently say I practically own you.”

Tears kissed your eyes at the disgusting words, and fed up with your resistance, Rafe merely placed a hand between your breasts before harshly shoving you back down. You winced at the action, but you had no time to fully linger on it as Rafe started to roughly plunge his cock into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours reaching your ears. He wouldn’t allow you to sit up, both of his hands wrapped around your wrists now as he leaned over you.

This felt too reminiscent of the time he’d pressed your face into the bed, telling you to relax as he pressed the head of his cock just above where your folds were. You recalled the uncomfortable feeling and the tears that stained the pillow as he slowly fucked you in a place no one ever had before. The deja vu of it all had your mind wandering, eyes defocusing as you just waited for it to be over. It seemed like Rafe’s grunts sounded from above you forever, and when he finally came onto your stomach with a low moan, you didn’t move for some time.

You were slow to sit up as he got dressed, trembling as you steaded yourself for what you were about to say.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

The words came out whispered, but in the quiet study, you might as well have yelled them. Rafe didn’t acknowledge you, and you knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard you. Frustrated with his refusal to take you seriously, you hopped off of Ward’s desk, angrily grabbing your clothes.

“I’m serious, Rafe. After this weekend…this is done,” you continued, voice firmer, now. “Don’t call me or text me or worry about any more money. I can’t rely on you forever anyway.”

By now, Rafe was actually listening to you, and you avoided his gaze as you got dressed. His silence was loud, and when you were finally decent again, only then did you lift your gaze to glance at him. His visage was unreadable, and after some time, he merely blinked at you.

“If I remember correctly, per your own words, your mom had enough debt ‘to file for bankruptcy’.”

His words made you sharply inhale, and you bit your tongue as he ran his hands through his hair in a poor attempt to tame the damp locks.

“Don’t ruin your life just because you’re pissed at me,” he coldly added.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Personal feelings aside, I can’t rely on you forever, Rafe. That’s just the truth. I have to figure something out eventually, and there’s no time like the present,” your voice shook as he fixed you with an unnerving stare. “I miss my friends, and I don’t want to be the sad, damaged girl running to Rafe Cameron just so I don’t feel anything anymore.”

The blond followed your lead, folding his arms over his own chest as he leaned against the wall, staring you down with that annoying crooked smile.

“...and where exactly do you plan to find a job that pays you what I do?”

“There are jobs, Rafe. I’ll find one.”

You didn’t appreciate his tone nor the look he was giving you as he studied you. He was looking down on you, and yes while that wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence, this time was different. He was looking down his nose like he didn’t believe in you, like he expected you to be crawling back to him in no time, begging him to fuck you again.

After a few moments, that crooked smile curved even more, and you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes.

“Well, I wish you luck…”

His voice didn’t match the words that came out of his mouth, and his gaze most certainly didn’t.

“I literally called this morning and was told over the phone that you all were hiring...and now I get here, and I’m being told you’re not…?”

You tried to keep the skepticism out of your tone, but your frustration at your predicament was bubbling up and threatening to be unleashed on the lone man before you. The inside of the country club was practically empty—a slow Tuesday—and you briefly glanced around at the two staffers in the whole room. Sure, you could write it off to a slow day that didn’t need a full staff, but something in you told you that it was more than that.

You didn’t believe the man in front of you.

“Look, I don’t know what else to tell you, miss. Whoever you talked to got it wrong. I’m sorry for the miscommunication on our end,” was his only explanation.

You didn’t dare bother to point out that both he and whoever you’d spoken with on the phone sounded damn near identical.

When it became obvious that this conversation was over, you turned away with a small huff, breezing outside to a familiar dark car. Kie was standing by it, arms uncomfortably crossed over her chest, glaringly obvious that she’d rather be anywhere but here despite being from ‘here’.

“Well…?” she wondered as you got closer.

“They’re not hiring,” you mumbled as you slid into the passenger seat.

She joined you inside the vehicle a moment later, a frown on her face.

“...but you called.”

“I know.”

There was a beat of silence before she scoffed, reaching for her door handle.

“If this is because you aren’t some rich snob looking for play money…”

She trailed off when you spoke up.

“No, I don’t…I don’t think it’s that,” you stopped her. “Let’s just go.”

She eyed you for a few moments, frown deepening.

“Are you sure? Y/N, this is like the fourth place you’ve been to today,” she pointed out. “...and I don’t want to add my stress to your stress, but it’s kind of fucked up.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wasn’t possible for you to be any more stressed than you already were, simply signaling for her to drive. You could feel her eyes periodically landing on you as she did, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, wondering why the universe had it out for you.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen or talked to Rafe, weeks since you ended your little arrangement, and weeks since you’d had a consistent source of income. It wasn’t a pretty nor respectable way to make money, but you’d been making money nonetheless. However, you couldn’t find it in you to continue sacrificing your self respect to keep sleeping with Rafe Cameron. You’d also been telling the truth when you told him you didn’t want to be this messed up sad thing anymore.

You had long let go of the drugs and cut back on the drinking, and now you’d dropped Rafe too.

You’d had hope…but now it was dwindling.

No one would hire you. In fact, no one had even allowed you far enough to officially apply just to get a foot into an interview. It was always the same. You’d call ahead so you didn’t waste your time, they’d tell you they were looking for people, and then the moment you actually showed up and introduced yourself, it was an entirely different story. It didn’t make any sense to you, and the thought of ever proving Rafe right made you want to be sick.

“How bad is it?” JJ asked you a few days later, the both of you away and isolated in some corner of some guy’s party.

You looked down at the weak drink in your hand, contemplating on whether or not to be honest.

“It’s…manageable.”

A whopper of a lie.

“...then why don’t I believe you? Come on, Y/N, it’s me. I know your mom wasn’t the best when it came to funds, and when she died…” he scoffed. “You weren’t exactly in any shape to march down to anyone’s job and fight for work just to keep things afloat.”

You looked away at that, throat tight.

“I’m honestly shocked you’ve kept it up for this long.”

If only he knew…

You felt his gaze on you as you wondered just how truthful you should be, but you reminded yourself that this was JJ. If he knew the full extent of everything, he’d be likely to rob a bank. Nevermind the fact that it would just make him ask more questions, like how you’d even managed to keep things afloat all this time. You didn’t think you could lie to him, and you didn’t think you could handle being on the receiving end of whatever look JJ would undoubtedly give you if you told him you’d been sleeping with Rafe to pay your bills.

You didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that the subject of your thoughts walked through the doors to prevent this conversation from continuing. His presence shouldn’t have shocked you—the party was pretty mixed with people from all sides of the island after all—but it still gave you pause, and JJ noticed.

“This asshole,” you heard the blond murmur, rolling his eyes.

You were inclined to agree, and you shrunk in on yourself with your drink, unable to ignore the knowledge that Rafe was at the same party you were at. In the weeks you’d been free of him, you’d had time to really ponder on your dalliance, and while you’d long accepted your hand in your own life choices, it was now hard to ignore Rafe’s own opportunistic choices in the situation. Sure, yes, you fucked him for money…

…but what did it say about him that he was perfectly happy to enter an arrangement in which he kept you off of the streets so long as you opened your legs for him?

If he was a good guy he’d just…keep you off the streets.

Like JJ would if you ever told him the truth.

You’d just decided to stop hiding in the bathroom when you came face to face with the man himself, heart skipping a beat at his presence. He was leaning against the wall next to the door, and you had the sneaking suspicion he hadn’t been waiting for his turn.

“How’s the job search going?” was how he greeted you, and you hadn’t been able to keep the ire off of your face.

He softly laughed to himself at that, nodding.

“I figured you’d look a little something like that.”

“Fuck you,” you breathed, and Rafe frowned, tilting his head to the side.

“You were, remember? And then you stopped…and that’s how you found yourself back at square one,” he reminded you.

The music traveled from downstairs into the dimly lit hallway, and you looked away from him just as he heaved a tired sigh.

“Do I need to apologize for calling you and your friends dirty Pogues? Is that what this is about?” he lazily wondered.

You didn’t dignify that with a response, and when you lifted your gaze, Rafe was rolling his eyes. He fixed you with a look, reaching up to touch your hair with a tsk.

“Come on, Y/N. You need me…”

He leaned in.

“We both know it, and you’re never going to find a job in this town.”

“You don’t know that,” you fired back, slapping his hand away as you took a step away from him.

Almost instantaneously, Rafe’s entire expression morphed, and you swallowed at the shadow that passed over his features. His pink lips pressed together, and those blue eyes hardened in a way you’d never been on the receiving end of. You watched his nostrils flare.

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

The combination of his tone and his expression and his words gave you pause, and your brows pulled together as you stared at him. For a moment, the music in the house faded into the background as Kie’s words came to your mind. ‘It’s kind of messed up’, she’d said, and while you hadn’t given that much thought to the statement then…you certainly were now.

“What did you do?” you shakily asked the blond, skin growing cold.

Rafe didn’t answer right away, and when he did, it was a lie anyway.

“I don’t know what you mean,” was all he said, one brow raised.

You felt tears kiss your eyes, and you felt silly for not putting the pieces together earlier. You didn’t know how, but somehow, Rafe had a hand in your lack of employment. It seemed exactly like something he’d do, but the only thing you couldn’t understand was why. Why do it? Just to see you fail? Just to feel like he’d won?

“Look, this little rebellious act…it’s cute and amusing and all…” he shrugged off with a small smile. “...but it’s silly. We both know you’re just going to end up right back under me.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you hissed, moving past him.

“Yeah, and you knew that when you let me fuck you for drugs on some guy’s desk,” he threw at you, making you flinch and slow down. 

“I was going through things then, Rafe! I didn’t…” you huffed a sigh, turning to glower at him. “I didn’t care about things I most definitely should have. It’s different now.”

You threw your hands up.

“I’m different, now, and I don’t want to keep sacrificing my dignity and self respect just to keep a roof over my head. I don’t want to sleep with someone who views me and anyone like me as beneath him. It disgusts me, and unlike you, I have no interest in sleeping with people who I claim disgust me.”

You watched Rafe’s lip curl over his teeth.

“Yeah, that’s real respectable and noble and all, but I wonder how noble it’ll feel when you’re being evicted,” he spat at you, moving closer. “You’re not getting a job in this town, that I can promise you, so you keep this up for as long as you want to, but we both know how this ends.”

You leaned away from the finger in your face.

“I fucking own you,” he bit out, roughly grabbing your arm and yanking you close despite your resistance. “You named your price, and I paid it-.”

“For a service! Not a person,” you harshly whispered.

Rafe’s chuckle was cold as he stared you down, perfect teeth winking at you.

“You think you’re the only girl in Outer Banks willing to spread her legs for some money? You think I’d have to pay any of them half of what I paid you?” your stomach dropped at his words. “I’ve been a lot more generous than you realize.”

He roughly let you go, practically shoving you away from him, and you stumbled. He eyed you with an expression filled with promise, and when you turned away to finally find your friends and hopefully leave, you descended the stairs on unsteady legs.

You pushed against Rafe’s arm and chest as he held your chin in a tight grip. The vehicle you were next to hid you both from view, everyone on the beach none the wiser to what was happening in the parking lot. Your feet tripped over one another as he forced you back, trapping you between him and the metal contraption.

“Is that what you came up with? You think that pathetic Pogue is going to pay your bills? Give you a place to stay when that eviction notice is taped to your door?”

“Get…off…of me,” you snarled, finally shoving him away with difficulty.

Your breathing was heavy as you glared at the blond, lips trembling and heart racing at the downright evil glint in his blue eyes. You glanced over his shoulder for any way to get away from him, your frustration growing as he moved closer.

“Color me curious, but is it somehow more dignified to fuck someone like JJ instead of me?”

The jealousy dripping from his every word threw you for a loop, and you weren’t in the right headspace to even linger on how strange that was.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re not like that,” you drunkenly choked out. “I don’t know why you feel like I need to answer to you about my personal choices.”

It had only been thirty minutes ago that you were dancing with your friends. JJ—ever the flirt—had gotten a bit handsy, but it was nothing unusual. He could get handsy with a tree, and you’d merely smiled at the behavior, ignorant to the heated gaze that was hyper focused on you. You hadn’t even realized he’d been following you when you went to get a drink from Hayward’s truck.

“Butt out of my life already. You’ve already done enough,” you hissed at him, moving to get past him when he stopped you.

“We’re not done talking-.”

His words were interrupted by your hand, the sound of the slap echoing in your ears, and he’d just harshly pushed you against the car at your back when a familiar voice interrupted you both.

“Get off of her!”

Kie was suddenly there, helping you in shoving him away, and she looked at Rafe like he’d lost his mind—like she’d bore witness to an even sinister side to him. The blond didn’t seem all that fazed by her presence, barely sparing her a glance as his jaw clenched, his eyes on you. Clearly he felt that whatever he was contemplating wasn’t worth it, because without another word—but not without a final scoff—he made his way back to the party on the beach.

Kie wrapped her arms around you when you started to cry.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

What a loaded question, and you realized that the truth was just on the edge of your tongue. Unable to stop yourself, you threw your arms around her, collapsing under the weight of all your choices and what had led you to make them.

“Kie,” you started, voice trembling in her ear. “I have to tell you something.”

If she was horrified by the truth, she didn’t show it much. You could tell she was shocked as the words tumbled from your lips, her brown eyes stricken and face draining of color. You didn’t know what bothered her more—the drugs, the prostitution, or that both involved Rafe Cameron. As it turns out, it was none of those things.

“Why didn’t…why didn’t you let us help you?” she tearfully wondered, looking between your eyes. “We know how hard it’s been for you, and we wanted to be there for you, but you…you just disappeared. You barely came around, and John B. heard things, but he didn’t want to believe them.”

She whispered that last part, and your chest ached at the thought of your friends hearing about your out of character behavior but feeling powerless to stop it, accepting it as part of your grief.

“Rafe’s a demented asshole,” she finally spoke on the elephant in the room. “...and we won’t let him win, okay?”

There was conviction in Kie’s voice, the kind of conviction that made you want to believe her, and so you nodded at her words.

She helped you straighten, wiping your face and taking you back to the party, quietly promising you that she wouldn’t say anything about any of this to the guys. She stuck to you for the rest of the night, and a week later, she made good on her promise, her parents shaking your hand as they welcomed you to their staff.

“We could always use the extra hands,” Mrs. Carrera told you one Friday evening. “It gets crazy busy, especially on the weekends.”

All the noise in the restaurant only validated her statement.

You’d been working at The Wreck for a week, and while it was nothing like what Rafe had been paying you, it was a job. It was a means of earning your own money that didn’t involve lowering yourself to the likes of Rafe Cameron. It was grueling, sure, and you sometimes wondered if it was truly worth the money, but then you’d think of the alternative, and you’d decide that it was worth something and that’s what mattered.

You hadn’t been paying that much attention when you approached your last table for the night, looking up from the apron at your waist and stopping in your tracks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you worked here too,” Topper said, a fairly neutral greeting.

Topper may have been just as much of an asshole as his friends, but he at least played nice for the public. Your gaze traveled around the table, quickly looking away when it connected with a familiar blue.

“It’s…a fairly new gig,” you finally said, getting your notepad ready.

“Hey, if you’re going to use your friends for anything, might as well use them to become a productive member of society,” he told you, his tone now making you frown.

Opting to ignore the comment, you asked them what they wanted. You didn’t make eye contact with Rafe when he gave you his order, hand unsteady as you wrote it down. When you left them to go and get their drinks, you weren’t surprised to hear the scrape of a chair behind you. You were focused on rounding the counter, reaching for some clean glasses.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You didn’t forget your last encounter with the rich blond, tempted to ignore his presence altogether, but you were unfortunate enough to know how Rafe operated. Pausing in your movements, you turned to look at him, not surprised at all by the unhappy look on his face.

“I’m working, Rafe. What does it look like?”

You eyed the way his jaw ticked, finger gently tapping against the counter as he simply…stared you down. You glanced away, realizing that he didn’t have any power over you anymore. No, you weren’t completely out of the woods, but you had a secured source of income, and you’d happily struggle and scrape over sleeping with Rafe ever again.

“Go find some other struggling girl to take advantage of,” you finally said to him, grabbing their drinks and making your way to their table without a backwards glance.

Working at The Wreck was hard work, and no matter how many shifts you covered and how many tips you got, it was still long and hard work for half the money Rafe had ever paid you. You knew this when Kie came to you about the job, but on the other side of it, you were so beyond grateful for it. You were still stressed, of course, your monetary problems not going away anytime soon, but it was the normal stress of the average working twenty-something.

It wasn’t the kind of worry that came from a violent and abusive lover.

Rafe had been by the restaurant a few times since that day, and each time was more nerve-wracking than the last. Sometimes you served him, sometimes you didn’t, but it didn’t really matter because his gaze always found its way to you either way. On the days when Kie worked too, she’d ask you if you wanted her to do something about him, but you always declined.

After all, what reason would you have her give to her parents for kicking out the son of Ward Cameron who—to their knowledge—hadn’t done anything to warrant it?

Maybe you should’ve listened to Kie though. While you didn’t know if that would’ve changed things, you at least would have felt better about attempting to do something. Perhaps it was the mere sight of watching you work—watching you earn money independent of him—that made him snap, made him drop all pretenses completely. Barring him from the restaurant while you were there might’ve triggered some out of sight, out of mind response. It might’ve forced him to slowly get over whatever this thing was that he had about you.

It might have…

…and it also might not have done shit. Perhaps nothing would’ve changed, and you still would’ve found yourself tearfully staring at Kie’s mom as you took off your apron for the last time.

It was a normal Saturday when the texts and emails came through. The busiest day of the week, the most packed the restaurant ever would be for the next six days, and you’d been placing some fries down in front of some family’s kid when the noise in the restaurant…changed. You hadn’t been able to pinpoint how it changed, but if you did your best, it was like the chatters went from excitement about their food or whatever happened during the week to something else entirely.

One single thing that everyone was talking about.

You weren’t getting paid to mind your patrons’ business, but you started to think differently about that when the people at the table you were next to started to heavily eye you. The whole restaurant was loud with hushed chatter, so you couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the glances between the phones in their hands and you had you frowning.

You were slowly glancing around—realizing that that table wasn’t the only one—when you were yanked by your arm off the floor.

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” you worriedly wondered the moment Kie had you hidden from view.

The look on her face was hard to read, but her parted lips and wide eyes told you that she was horrified. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, seemingly unable to get the words out before slamming it shut, swallowing. The combination of her expression, her silence, and the lack of silence out there had a ball of dread forming deep in your gut.

“Kie,” you softly said. “What…what’s wrong?”

It took her a moment to speak.

“It’s Rafe,” she softly said.

Your confusion only grew, still not quite understanding. 

“What happened? Is he bothering you? Did…he do something to you?” you hesitantly asked, fearful that your former tormentor had turned his sights onto your friend.

“Not to me.”

That simple sentence started to put the pieces together, and you turned your face towards the front of the restaurant, recalling the stares and whispers and listening to the excited chatter. Your skin grew cold, goosebumps erupting all over you, and that dread was long gone. It was instead replaced by nausea.

“He sent everyone something…”

“No,” you heard yourself whisper.

“...a video.”

You turned to her with wide eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. Glancing down, you caught sight of her phone in her hand, and before Kie could stop you, you’d snatched it out of her grip. You moved out of her reach as she extended her arm, desperately trying to protect you, but it was too late.

You felt like you were weighed down by bricks as you stared at the two familiar faces on the screen.

It had to have been taken months ago, during one of the first few times you’d slept with him. You both were in Ward’s bedroom, and you remembered the day all too well, recalling the feel of his palm striking your skin and his voice in your ear before pulling your head down to his lip. Of course, it was that one and not one of the ones where he’d held you down and forced you to take his thrusts.

Your hand was empty, not even realizing when Kie had taken it back, simply staring into space at the memory of what was on that screen.

“Y/N, when my parents find out—and they’re going to find out—they…”

Her words died in the air at the sound of footsteps behind you, and you flinched when you heard a familiar voice call your name. Mrs. Carerra didn’t sound happy, and her expression fared no better when you turned around. You couldn’t stop your tears from spilling over as she gestured for you to follow her further into the back of the restaurant. You knew what was coming, what Kie was trying to prepare you for.

It was what Rafe wanted, after all…and he’d gotten it.

It was hours later when you were sitting with your back against your door, your phone turned off, overwhelmed by the influx of missed calls and messages from your friends. You’d only gotten a glimpse at them before finding your head bent inside of your toilet. Every single one of them bar Kie were shocked, their horror and confusion clear as day through their words. Only Pope had eventually sent a text that asked if you were okay.

…and the truth was that you weren’t.

You were so far from okay.

Rafe had won, he’d gotten exactly what he wanted, and even though Mrs. Carerra had expressed sympathy for your plight—more angry at the situation than anything else—she’d still had no choice but to let you go. Every other business in town valued the Cameron family way too much, and the only place that had been willing to hire you had been swayed by Rafe too in the worst manner possible.

It was well after midnight when your door shook from harsh knocks. You hadn’t moved in hours, just blankly staring at the wall, and you closed your eyes at the sound, positive it was one of your friends. You didn’t have the strength to face them, to answer questions and either break down or pretend you felt far better than you actually did.

You did, however, have the strength to face Rafe, your gaze lifting when his voice met your ears, demanding that you open the door.

His fist was still in the air when you swung it open, looking at him like he was something you’d find on the bottom of your shoes. He looked as put together as ever, completely unfazed by what he’d done. And why wouldn’t he be? This wouldn’t hurt his reputation and success in this town a bit. If nothing else, the video would have even more girls falling at his feet, but for some reason he didn’t seem to want that.

He preferred to force your hand instead.

“What is wrong with you?” you tearfully asked him, throat tight.

He didn’t respond right away, touching his tongue to his lip as his gaze roamed behind you.

“You gonna let me in?”

Your eyes almost popped out of your sockets, and he gave a haughty laugh.

“It’s not like I’ve left you with much of a choice, now, have I?”

He sounded so…proud of himself, and all you could do was cry as he brushed past you. He closed the door for you, noticing that you were struggling to move, and he kept his hand on the wood, his chest grazing your back as he pressed his face into your hair. You heard him deeply inhale, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I told you how this would end,” he whispered. “I gave you a chance to be smart about this.”

You went to move away from him, but his other hand shot out to grip your arm.

“You’re the one who made things way more difficult than they needed to be.” he continued. “We had a good thing going…and then you had to go and get sensitive and sentimental.”

When he forced you to face him, you kept your eyes on the collar of his shirt. The silence stretched as you refused to look at him, and you eventually heard Rafe heave a sigh. He let your arm go, and you watched him reach into his pocket, disappointed but not surprised by the roll of one hundred dollar bills he pulled out. When he straightened, he took your hand and placed the money in your palm, clasping your hands together.

A few more tears escaped when his fingers threaded through yours.

“Do you still feel like fighting this?” he quietly asked. “Let me know, right now, because I have all the time—and money—in the world.”

He slowly pulled you closer.

“You don’t.”

You shakily exhaled, reluctantly lifting your gaze to meet his own. You stared at one another for what felt like too long, and when he leaned in, taking your silence as defeat, you let him kiss you. It was a salty kiss, your own tears mixing in, but Rafe didn’t seem to mind, moving his lips against yours with a growing smile. His arm snaked its way around your waist, and the animalistic noise he let out told you just how excited he was to have you back under his thumb.

The couch seemed sufficient enough for him, bringing you both to it as he peeled your clothes off. You shuddered as the air hit your naked skin, thoughtlessly moving closer to his own body heat, and Rafe pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he laid you down. It felt like ages since you’d last slept with him, but you knew that wasn’t why you were trembling.

You were trembling because you finally realized you were sleeping with a monster. Before, Rafe had just been an opportunistic asshole to you. Rich, spoiled, selfish, the list went on, but now he was so much more than that. He was now someone who’d raped you on more than one occasion, and who had proved that he’d do anything to make you completely reliant on no one but him.

How else could he ensure that you’d never leave him? Never have any other choices but him? You’d eventually have to leave Outer Banks one day, you knew that to be true if you ever wanted a life independent of him, but that video could follow you around for the rest of your life, and very probably would.

When Rafe sheathed himself inside of you, stretching you out in a way that was regularly familiar to you, you gasped. The blond wasted no time in adopting a steady pace, fucking you hard against your couch, his fingers pressing into the arm of it. His grunts were soft in your ears, and despite your combined hatred and fear of him, you weren’t able to swallow down the whimpers that escaped your lips too.

You didn’t know what kind of hard on Rafe had for fucking someone he deemed so far beneath him, even more so to go through so much trouble of forcing you right back into his bed. You didn’t understand it one bit, and part of you never wanted to. You didn’t want to understand a thing that went on inside of his head, didn’t want to understand the thought process behind doing what he’d done to you.

His fingers scraped down your thigh before yanking you forward as he sat up some, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you. He was focused on the sight, lips parting as he panted from above you. He didn’t lean back down until your leg was over his shoulder, preventing you from moving much as he used you to chase his high, hips repeatedly curving against yours and forcing you to grip the couch.

“I missed this pussy so much,” he murmured, lips grazing the corner of your mouth as he spoke. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

You hadn’t before, but you did, now.

When his hand landed on your throat, it didn’t hurt, but his thumb applied just enough pressure to keep you alert.

“I’ll stop calling your friends dirty Pogues if that makes you feel better,” he whispered, a gentle kiss from his lips to yours. “...but you still belong to me.”

[nomie-11]

Teen!Caitlyn Kiramman x Teen!Reader - Cupid's Arrow (or Bullet)

masterlist!

Bullseye, bullseye, bullseye. 

Caitlyn lowered her rifle with a glint in her eyes. 

“Yes!” She spun on her heel, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “30 points in three bullets! Beat that, Y/n.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a small smile gracing your face as you grabbed your own rifle. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, and the purple petals of the grand tree behind the Kiramman’s shooting range was raining softly down onto the ground. With a huff, you brushed a petal off the scope on the rifle. 

“You know I can’t beat 30 in 3, Cait,” Your eyes roll back playfully, still smiling as you hopped into line beside her. “We can only tie.” 

“Oh, come on! Don’t be so negative—a tie only gives me half the bragging rights to our parents at dinner later.” 

You snorted, shaking your head as you lined up the first shot. Caitlyn crossed her arms and leaned slightly to the side, watching you with that perfectly smug glimmer in her sapphire eyes. The setting sun painted her silhouette in warm golds and soft purples, and for a moment, it was hard to focus on anything other than her. 

Shaking your head, you snapped into focus. Caitlyn’s perfect body and silky smooth hair wouldn’t deter you from victory even if your hormonal teenage body really wanted it to. 

The rifle felt steady and familiar in your hands, a testament to the hours the two of you would spend in the shooting range after you got out of manners school and Caitlyn finished with her tutors, and as you exhaled slowly, you squeezed the trigger. 

Bang. The first shot hit dead center. 

“Oh, not bad,” Caitlyn said, her voice teasing but impressed. 

You rolled your eyes and took aim again. Bang. Another bullseye. 

Caitlyn’s brows lifted, her confident grin flattering just a bit. 

This was your favorite part, the part where you inevitably tie her perfect score and fluster her just a tiny bit. She never expected it—and it gave you the perfect opportunity to put a cute little blush on her perfectly pale skin even for half a second. 

“Careful now, Y/n, or you’ll actually—”

Bang. The third and final shot sliced clean into the center of the target. 

The silence stretched for a heartbeat, broken only by the soft rustling of petals in the breeze. You lowered the rifle with a satisfied smirk, turning to face Caitlyn, who was frozen mid-sentence. Her lips were slightly parted, her sapphire eyes wide with disbelief. 

“Actually what?” You teased, raising a brow as you casually slung the rifle over your shoulder. 

Caitlyn blinked, her expression shifting from surprise to playful indignation. She stepped forward, hands on her hips, her usual confidence quickly returning. 

“You actually tied me,” she huffed, though the corner of her mouth twitched upward in a reluctant smile. “Again. Do you ever let me win without making it look like I earned it?”

“Let you win?” You giggled, stepping closer. “You know me better than that, Kiramman. If I wanted to let you win, I’d miss the first shot just to keep it believable.”

Her nose scrunched up in that endearing way it always did when she was annoyed, and you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Well, I suppose this means we’ll both have to brag to our parents at dinner,” she said with mock seriousness. “Although I’ll make sure to remind them that I hit my score first.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Typical Caity. Always gunning for the last word.”

As the two of you stood there, the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow over the range. Caitlyn’s features softened in the light, her confident smirk giving way to something gentler. 

“You know,” she said, her voice quieter now, “I wouldn’t mind if we tied every time. It’s kind of nice… knowing there’s someone who can keep up with me.”

Her words caught you off guard, and your heart gave an unsteady lurch. She looked down at you, her sapphire eyes searching yours, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. 

“Well,” you said, your voice faltering slightly as you tried to recover, “someone has to keep that ego of yours in check.”

She laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. Then, almost shyly, she reached out and plucked a purple petal from your shoulder. 

“I’m serious, Y/n,” she murmured, her hand lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “You’re… different. In a good way.”

Your cheeks burned, and you were suddenly very aware of how close the two of you were standing. 

“Thanks, Caity,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. 

The air between you felt electric, charged with something unspoken but undeniable. As the last rays of sunlight bathed the range in soft hues, you couldn’t help but wonder if Cupid had traded his arrows for bullets—and hit you square in the heart. 

-------

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[joelalorian]

Under False Pretenses - Chapter 1

Stepdad!Dave York x f!reader | wc: 1700 | masterlist

Summary: A challenging mission, whirlwind marriage, and unexpected yet captivating stepdaughter push Dave York to the brink as secrets, feelings, and loyalties collide.

Warnings: Overall rating will be Explicit, 18+ mdni. Stepdad trope. Unspecified age gap but I imagine a lil' baby one of about 5 to 8 years. This chapter is a wee lil mellow one and sets the scene, but future ones will include soft, yet sexy and intense Dave; several twists - basically, it will have it all: action, angst, deception, fluff, humor, a puppy(!), and SMUT! No use of y/n. Dave will give reader a nickname based on his perception of her.

AN: I got too excited and decided to post the first chapter. Posting schedule will be somewhere are weekly, give or take a few days. Hope you enjoy and let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

Chapter 1:

“Sure, honey. You can come stay for a while,” your mom assured you. She sounded excited even though it wasn’t a call you wanted to make, not at this point in your life, but what other options did you have? “You can see the house and meet your new stepdad!”

Dead air.

The soft glow of you bedside lamp cast long shadows on the room, making the clutter of half-packed boxes look like ominous towers. Your knuckles whitened as you gripped the phone tighter, trying to process her words.

“My new WHAT?” your voice rose toward the end in utter confusion. You didn’t even know your mom was dating anyone, let alone someone serious enough to fucking marry!

“Oh, honey, his name is Dave and you’re just gonna love him,” she replied with a lovesick simper.

You’d never heard her voice do that. She must be really into the guy.

Enough to marry him without even inviting you to the god damn wedding?

She’s still chatting away, explaining how they met – at work – and how it was such a whirlwind romance that they got carried away on a work trip to Vegas and decided to just tie the knot without telling anyone.

Okay. That, actually, didn’t surprise you. Your mom was super smart but could be a total a flake sometimes, leaving you to wonder who the adult was on more than one occasion while growing up. She had you really young and never quite matured.

“That’s great, Mom. I can’t wait to meet him,” you finally replied after twenty minutes of listening to her gush over this Dave guy. “But I’m not calling him Dad.”

She laughed. “Of course not, honey. He’s too young to really be your dad anyway.”

That piqued your interest.

“Oh, oh, oh, you robbin’ the cradle, mama?” you teased. “You’re really living your cougar era, huh?”

“Stop it, you,” she giggled in return. “So, when do you think you’ll get here?”

Conversation went back and forth a little longer as your mom gave you the new address – for fuck’s sake, they moved clear across the state from where you grew up, to a very swanky area at the shore, you noted – and you made a rough itinerary. In reality, you would have loved to just drop everything and get the fuck out of dodge right that minute, but logistics and all that.

“Ok, honey. Be careful and I’ll see you next week. Call if you need anything.” Before she ended the call, your mom added, “I’ll text you Dave’s number as well, so you have it in case of emergencies.

“Sounds good, mama. Love you.”

“Love you more, honey.”

You went back to packing up the remnants of your life, readying yourself for the cross-country journey ahead.

You did not have ‘moving back home at almost 30’ on your bingo card this year, but there you were, pulling into the half-moon driveway of a large colonial home in an upscale neighborhood, one much nicer than where your mom used to live. The house loomed under the late morning sun, its pristine white siding and black shutters stark against the cloudless blue sky. Perfectly trimmed hedges flanked the curved driveway, and somewhere nearby, the faint crash of waves carried on the salty breeze. This Dave guy had a lot of money, it appeared. Parking your little sedan to the far side in front of the 3-car garage, you turned the car off and lingered in the driver’s seat, fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel.

Normally, you didn’t mind change, but… man, the past month threw some whammies at you. You lost a boyfriend, job, and your loyal goldfish in quick succession. Each loss hit worse than the last. And now, your safe space, the place you needed to return to so you could lick your wounds… also changed. Big time.

The soft tap of a manicured nail on the window startled you, head snapping to the side to see your mom standing in the driveway beaming at you. She bounced on her feet, anxiously waiting for you to get out of the car.

“Honey! It’s so good to see you!” You barely had time to fully stand up before she pulled you into a bone crushing hug. That was another thing about your mom – she was strong. She had lithe muscles packed into her small figure from being a total gym addict.

Too bad that addiction wasn’t hereditary. You hated the gym.

“Hi mama! Marriage looks good on you!” you praised her once you stepped back and took in her glowing, sun-kissed skin, vibrant blonde locks, and the large rock on her hand.

“You look good, too, honey. You losing weight?”

And of course, she honed right in on that. You weren’t even in front of her for five minutes, and she brought up your weight. Story of your life. Your body shape the exact opposite of your, mother’s, she hadn’t let up on nagging you about your weight since you were twelve years old. You were always a bit… thick in places.

“Uh, maybe, I dunno. Come on, show me your new digs.” You quickly changed the subject.

Your mom gives you the grand tour, proudly showing off all the lovely features of the house, focusing heavily on the ones the home you grew up in didn’t have like the huge kitchen, fireplace, pool, and enormous master suite, though she led you away before you could fully explore all that the suite offered. The two other bedrooms were already decorated for little girls, and you quirked a curious eyebrow at your mom.

“Didn’t I mention that Dave has two young daughters?”

No. No, she definitely did not mention that. You rolled your eyes, understanding now why your mom was so eager for you to come home. She wanted a built-in caretaker. You mentally counted down, knowing exactly what she was about to say in three, two, one…

“Actually, now that you’ll be living here, it would be great if you could look after the girls when we have to travel for work or want to go out, help with the school runs during the week.”

It wasn’t a question, you noted. Not that you expected her to ask first or even mention that being a nanny would be part of the deal. Nothing with your mom ever came without a cost. You learned that lesson long ago.

You loved your mom, you really did. Sometimes, she just didn’t make it easy to do so.

“Right. About that… where am I supposed to be staying if all the bedrooms are taken?”

She led you down the stairs to a door off the family room, where another stairway awaited you. “You’re locking me away in the basement?” you joked. “Please tell me it’s at least finished.”

“Just wait until you see it, honey,” your mom promised, and you reluctantly followed her down the steps.

When the lights flicked on, the sight took your breath away. It was like an entire apartment down there. It even had its own private entrance leading to the garage allowing you to come and go as you pleased. “Wow,” you breathed.

“Told ya.” She flashed you a twitchy wink. “You’ll have this whole space to yourself… well, except for that room over there.” She pointed to a closed door equipped with a sturdy lock.

“What’s in there?” you questioned, already curious about the reasoning for such a lock on the door.

“That’s Dave’s office. It’s off limits to everyone but him, so don’t go snooping. Got it?” She pointed a finger at you like you were an errant child, and you raised your hands in surrender.

“Heard you loud and clear, mama. I have no interest in whatever creepy ass skeletons Dave is keeping in his locked office.” Total lie, of course, but your mom didn’t need to know that.

“Good. Get settled in and help yourself to whatever you need. I must head to the office for a bit. Dave should be home at some point, he just had a meeting in town. I’ll pick up the girls from school on my way home if you want to take care of dinner.”

And there it was. You knew there’d be a bigger price to pay for this arrangement, more than occasionally taking care of your new stepsisters. Without a job or any other responsibilities, your mom was going to treat you like free labor. You saw that coming.

You followed your mom upstairs and through the front door as she headed to her car in the garage, and you went for yours. Might as well get unpacked, not like you brought much anyway. It was early still, and you could make a trip to the store for anything you needed before having to worry about dinner.

A few hours later, you stepped back to admire your new living space with a sense of pride. You did everything you could to make it your own, within reason.

With the basement suite basically being a blank slate, you chose a variety of decorative pillows, wall hangings, and chotchkes to give it your own stylistic flair. The furnishings unused and rather plain, you wanted to spice them up with splashes of color. You did everything short of paint the damn walls – and you would have done that too if given the option.

Grateful for a firm mattress with a plush pillowtop, you sprang for the softest satiny sheets you could find in a pale green hue and paired it with a patterned comforter with clean lines. A couple of coastal-themed lamps on the nightstands rounded out the small bedroom.

The bathroom was already decorated with a shower curtain and accessories in soft gray hues, and you wondered if that was Dave’s touch or your mother’s. Probably Dave. Your mom never veered toward subtle furnishings, much preferring patterns and styles that you found garish.

Glancing around at the neat space one last time, you headed upstairs to the kitchen to begin dinner preparations. You wanted to make something special for the first time meeting your stepdad and his daughters.

tbc

tag list: @imdrinkingpedro @lillaydee @ppascalrain @yorksgirl @missladym1981 @baronessvonglitter @slimybeth69

[blueninjablade3]

For Once I’ll Thank the Croc.

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” A shrill, girlish scream echoed throughout the entire ship. The scream so loud as to jolt your once peaceful sleep out of you. You’d recognize that scream from anywhere. You glanced over at Smee, who was already on his feet, racing to the deck. You sighed, knowing exactly what had happened.

You groaned as you slid yourself out of your old rag-tag hammock. Your feet hit the wooden floor as you sketched out your back. You slid on slippers before heading to the Captain’s quarters.

You had been working with Captain James Hook for around 5 months. Peter Pan had brought you here thinking you would be a “Great mother to the lost boys!” What he hadn’t thought of was that, one he kidnapped you, two you didn’t want to mother those little kids, and three you were a grown-up. For some reason, this was seen as a negative thing? You had no way home, no friends, and you didn’t exactly have a welcoming visit from either mermaids or the cannibal tribe. So, seeing no other choice, you chose to join up with Captain James Hook.

Hook had a terrible hate for that little devil. Which honestly? You understood. Hook had his hand cut off, fed to a bloodthirsty croc (who annoyingly followed everywhere), and was taunted daily by Pan. You saw no point. Peter was old enough to understand the pain he caused Hook. So why he didn’t leave Hook alone was beyond you.

Yet, you must admit Hook was undeniably lovely. He would make sure to be a more refined man and gallant man around you. Often opening doors for you, making sure you were full, and as an added bonus Hook taught you how to play a few notes on his piano.

A soft blush spread across your face as you thought of Hook. His handsome face, that charming little grin, his habit of running to walls accidentally-

You quickly snapped out of your trance as you arrived at his door. You heard heavy, shaking breathing as you arrived at the large brown door. You knocked three times out of respect. All you got was a shaky response.

“No…no…no…no it’s too early… you can’t take me!” The captain cried fearfully behind the door.

You couldn’t help but sigh. Poor Cap’n Hook. Honestly. The poor man couldn’t even get a decent night's sleep. You opened up the door to find Hook under a couch.

His long black hair was unkept, sloppy, and messy. He had the worst bedhead you’d ever seen.

His body shook violently as a gentle noise was heard outside.

Tick-Tok. Tick-Tok. Tick-Tok.

You could see his Hazel eyes scanning the room like a panicked deer. Even under his night clothes, you could see his muscles tensed up. He was as tense as a snake ready to lunge. Sweat dripped down his face in beads and he looked like an asylum patient.

You imperturbably sat next to the couch on the floor. The Captain’s eyes landed on you. His guard dropped for a moment. But just a moment, he relaxed. As if your very presence was calming to him. You let out a soft and mild sigh.

“Cap? You wanna come from under the couch? I promise Smee is dealing with the crocodile right now. Tic-Tok can’t get or hurt you right now.” You explained in the softest voice you can manage. This does nothing to calm the captain down as instead, he began thundering.

“NO! STAY AWAY! STAY AWAY!” Hook shrieked at the top of his lungs. You winced at the loud words coming from the man. His hook came dangerously close to your thigh. Only missing by a centimeter.

Your eyes exploded in size. In the 5 months you’ve known the Captain he’s never raised his hands to you. He’d even get mad if someone suggested raising a hand to you. He claimed it to be “Rude” and “Savage” to raise hands to someone who wasn’t looking for a fight.

You scrambled away as Hook climbed out from under the couch looking like an angry bull in a bullfight. The fear was still in those hazel eyes though. This wasn’t actual anger. It was his fear response.

In your attempt to get away, you unknowingly pinned yourself against a wall. Hook was on you in seconds. His hook glitters in the moonlight above you. About to crash into your head and possibly end your life. Is this the end? Are you going to die at the hands of Captain James Barthomelow Hook because of his angry outburst?

You close your eyes and wait… and wait… and wait…

But the cold steel never came down. Your eye cracked open. You gazed upon the glittering hook. Right above your head. It was almost like it was frozen in place. You shifted your sight to the weary captain's face. The ticking was gone. A heavy silence consumed the room. You took a look into Hooks's eyes and he broke down. He collapsed to his knees sobbing.

You didn’t believe it. You’d never see Hook cry and it only be about the crocodile. You gingerly reached out and embraced him. You expected a lot. To be shoved off, be yelled at, or maybe have your life like he was about to moments ago. But never in the seven seas did you think he’d hug you. He wrapped himself around her tightly and cried into your shoulder. He whimpered out apologies while soaking your shirt with his wet tears.

You gently guided him to bed.

“Let’s lay down big guy… are you okay?”

“I killed you… I almost killed you… (Y/N) I’m so sorry!” Hook sobbed into your shoulder. He was in hysterics trying desperately to apologize.

“Captain it’s okay-“

“NO ITS NOT OKAY! I SHOULD HAVE NEVER ATTACKED IN THE FIRST PLACE… what if I was the reason you passed away tonight… I don’t think I could have lived with the guilt me dear…”

You had to ask him. You couldn’t deal with not knowing why he acted like he acted with you. Why he didn’t finish the job.

“Captain. Why do you treat me differently from the others in your crew? Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m saying. You make sure I’m fed, you get upset when people try to hurt me, you’ve taught me a bit of piano and you’re one of the most gallant men I’ve ever met so cut the bullshit.”

You spoke authoritatively and without a tremble in your voice. You wouldn’t back down from getting answers. You felt you deserved them. Hook's eyes widened. He heaved a sigh.

“Aye. I won’t lie. I like you. I have since a few months back. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner I just… couldn’t find it in me to confess poppet.”

Hook was beet red from blushing so hard. He was nervous the whole time and did his best to keep his sentences short length to avoid stumbling and embarrassing himself more.

“I like you too darling. Let’s have a first date sometime James. But for now, rest. Rest, knowing you are safe in my arms.”

Hook didn’t have to say a thing. He just held you tighter. His eyes closed as you ran your finger through his hair gently brushing out the tangles. For once you could thank the croc.

WOOOO! Finally done with this little project. I hope you enjoyed reading it and the ending wasn’t too rushed. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated and as always master is right below. Thanks for reading and I wish you a great new year!

Masterlist

[majoryeager104]

Dabi headcannons! (Reader crush edition!)

I got a request the other day for a Dabi x reader where the reader had a major crush on Dabi and he’d avoid them, and it gave me so many ideas heheh

so enjoy this Dabi x gn!reader w a big fat crush headcannons and how Dabi would react 🫶🫶

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

He’d be so embarrassed

Wouldn’t have the faintest clue how to react

So when someone tells him you like him he just 🧍‍♂️

“Whatever”

But he’s actually going crazy thinking about it

Like, “how did I not notice?” And “why do you like me in the first place?”

But he’d never dare to ask those questions aloud

No, he’d much rather just hide from you lmao

But once he gets over the initial shock

Then he’s tryin to rizz you up so bad 😭🙏

But he has 0 rizz

Deep down we all know it to be true

So he kinda comes off as ‘where my hug at’ energy 😭😭😭

So once he gets over doing that

And gets over the embarrassment from trying it

He acts normal around you again

But little does he know that his normal is actually fairly charismatic and the exact reason you fell for him

And THEN he starts noticing the blushes and giggles from you when he talks

And he’s like ‘ooooooohhhhhhhhh 🧍‍♂️’

‘This is how it’s done 😧’

And quietly continues to act casual just to drive you nuts

And he loves that he can do that

Make you blush so much just by telling a dumb joke

He loves it so much that before he knows it he’s fallen for you

“You fell first but he fell harder” type shii

Bros ✨enamored✨

And it gets to the point where now he DEFINITELY can’t act normal around you and so even tho you fell first he’s the one who confessed 😗

And I’ll be writing a little confession x reader for just such an occasion later today

Bc he’s too cute 😭😭😭

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

[pancake-cat22]

The Hockey AU characters pt. 1

So I decided I’ll share some of my notes on each character of the AU so that everyone understands some things better :)

This one is for Big Dogs bc I won’t be able to fit everything in one post!

Joel Beans

He’s the team’s star player. Some people say that made him arrogant but those who know him well know that he’s always been like that.

He met Grian and Jimmy in secondary school and began calling themselves the Bad Boys. To this day nobody understands why.

He briefly dated Lizzie in high school before they broke up mutually. They remain on great terms even now

He and Lizzie actually have a running joke that they’re married which started when they once claimed to be married to get a discount at Starbucks

He’s been learning hockey ever since he was 8 years old and has always loved it

Despite denying it like his life depends on it, he’s an absolute softie for animals, especially dogs. Jimmy swears he once saw Joel cry over a cute puppy he saw passing by them on the street.

Grian Moon

He and Pearl are siblings

He has 10 identical copies of his favourite red sweater

He’s been friends with Jimmy since they were 9

He calls Jimmy Timmy because he misheard Jimmy when they were introducing themselves and decided not to correct himself ever again

He once bought a whole chicken costume just to throw an egg (read: several eggs) at Pearl in it. He still has the costume and still denies it ever being him to this day

He stubborn to the point where he once didn’t talk to Jimmy for a whole week for making a joke about him being short

The moment he met Mumbo in secondary school he declared the two of them brothers and decided he would protect that little ball of anxiety with his life

Scar Times

He moved from the US to play in the Big Dogs

He’s absolutely the kind of person to break his leg during a game and say he’s fine, so Pearl drags him off anytime he falls a bit worse than she likes just in case

Only about half of the insinuations he makes are accidental. He’s very capable of making dirty jokes and he will use that skill.

People often think he’s the most oblivious put of them but if he tries, he can easily put together the pieces. He just lives with the mentality of not wanting to pry and doesn’t look too closely into things. He knows the person would tell him if they wanted him to know

He once built a throne for his cat Jellie out of cardboard. In real scale. It stays in his living room and nobody other than Jellie is allowed to touch it.

He has an older brother, Cub. Sadly, Cub lives back home in the US, meaning Scar doesn’t get to see him much

Jimmy Solidarity

He and Lizzie and siblings

He and Martyn are the Big Dog mascots

He’s known Martyn since high school

He made a YouTube channel dedicated to vlogging funny moments from the Big Dog team, for which Gem absolutely hates him because it ruins their reputation a bit. Despite the complaints of said social media manager of their team, he is not willing to take the channel down

He’s publicly dating Tango and yet to his frustration, none of his friends notice. He even got laughed off when he told Martyn he was dating Tango! They even live together.

Martyn Littlewood

He’s the other Big Dogs mascot

He and Ren have a weird thing going on where nobody knows whether they’re dating, friends, or hate each other. When confronted, Martyn either laughs it off or tells the person (mainly Jimmy because it’s funny to see his reaction) that it’s a ‘mascot thing’. Everyone has given up trying to understand the two. Martyn himself doesn’t really know what he and Ren are. When he asked Ren once, Ren admitted that he didn’t know either.

Though he would never admit it, he only took the mascot job because Jimmy did and Martyn wanted to stay around his friend. He ended up loving the job anyway.

He once set a classroom on fire back in high school to get out of an exam. It worked but he got caught because he stayed at the scene of the crime laughing.

He and Scott once role-played secretly being mermaids for a week straight for no reason back in secondary school. Everyone hated them by the end for their terrible acting.

Gemini (Gem) Tay

She and Etho are cousins

She moved to the UK to pursue better career opportunities and see a new place and ended up getting a job as the social media manager of Big Dogs. She never regretted her decision.

She’s been dating Pearl for almost a year now. She forgot to tell Etho.

Everyone is unanimously terrified of her and yet delighted by her presence. It’s confusing.

She actually has a boating license. She never explains why or how to anyone. Not even Etho knows where and when she got it.

One time she literally flipped a guy who was being creepy to her onto the ground. A video of it went viral and was shown on the local small news channel.

Pearl Moon

She’s Grian’s sister

She’s the team’s doctor

In secondary school, she helped Martyn light the classroom on fire. She, however, did not get caught.

Ever since the chicken costume incident, she’s been determined to find that costume and burn it. She knows Grian’s kept it just for the fun of it. And so, every time she visits Grian’s house or is at one of the parties in his house, she looks through anywhere where it could possibly be. She hasn’t found it yet but she will. One day.

Despite living in the UK all her life, she has an Australian accent. Nobody knows why, not even her.

She and BigB are childhood friends. She’s the only one who knows anything about him from their friend groups, including his real name. She also, however, doesn’t reveal any of it because she thinks it’s funny.

She and BigB also have their weird nosy neighbour traditions. Most of their friends think they were (or still are) in a cult of some kind. It’s really just them being silly.

Mumbo Jumbo

He’s the Big Dogs’ team manager

He constantly wears a suit, no matter the weather or occasion

He used to be (read: still is) a ball of anxiety back in secondary school. Grian kinda just adopted him the moment they met.

He plays around with technology and creates little devices for fun in his spare time.

That’s it for the Big Dogs! I’ll hopefully post a part two for the Shadow team soon :)

[mads-hemmo]

It’s Nice to Have a Friend - Jschlatt

Part 3

Reader has been lonely their whole life. They have never been in a relationship. They don’t understand why no one will love them but their best friend, Schlatt has always been in love with them.

Part 1

Part 2

Schlatt lets you both in. “What are you doing here?” He asks Ted.

“I’ve been on a roadtrip with Tucker and I just dropped him off. I thought while I was in New York, I would come visit my buddy, Schlatt,” Ted says.

“Why didn’t you at least call first?” Schlatt asks.

“I wanted it to be a surprise. I just didn’t think you would be having company.” Ted turns to look at you.

“Oh I can go home, so you two can spend some time together,” you say. You are still wearing your backpack full of your sleepover necessities, so it would be easy to just leave.

“Nonsense. We can all hang out together. What did you crazy kids have planned anyways?”

Schlatt gives you a look like he wants to keep some things between you two. That thing being the coloring books in your backpack. “We were going to order some sushi. Not sure what else,” you tell Ted.

Ted nods. “That sounds great. I’m just excited to get to know Schlatt’s best friend.”

“Let’s go to the living room,” Schlatt says. The three of you take a seat on his couch while he orders the sushi on DoorDash.

“So (Y/N), what do you do for work?” Ted asks you.

“I’m a hairdresser.”

“Oh cool. Did you dye your own hair? I like the blue tips.”

“Oh yeah I did. Thank you. I have a pretty lenient schedule. Gives me more time to do my various hobbies.”

“What are your various hobbies then?” Ted asks, focusing on you.

“Oh god. I have so many. I crochet, I read, I play piano and I recently started coloring,” you tell him.

“Interesting. How do you have time to do all that?”

“I create my own schedule so I can work as many or as little hours as I choose. I’ve been at my shop for a while so they let me do what I want,” you tell Ted.

“That’s one thing I like about YouTube. I can pretty much work whenever I please.”

“Yeah it’s good for you since you barely upload,” Schlatt replies.

You let out a laugh. Ted looks between the two of you. “I upload. I just don’t want to spoil my viewers and make them get bored of the incredible content I make.”

“I must admit. As one of your viewers, it’s a little treat when you actually post,” you tell him.

He gives you a big smile. “Thank you. I’m glad to know I have such good looking viewers,” Ted winks at you.

Schlatt narrows his eyes at Ted as you blush a bit. “So Ted, how was your road trip?” Schlatt asks, getting the attention off of you.

“It was really fun. Tucker and I just drove around the US, exploring random places. Have you ever taken a road trip?” Ted asks you.

“Unless you count me helping Schlatt move back to New York. Not really. I’ve never really had the time or the money to do so,” you admit. Schlatt had promised you a trip to Japan at some point. However, you told him you wanted to raise the money yourself. You knew Schlatt would pay for everything, but you didn’t want to use him.

“You should go on one! They are a lot of fun! You could join me on my next one. I’ll even let Schlatt come along,”

“They don’t want to ride in your old truck. They might fall through the hole in the passage seat,” Schlatt chimes in.

“I’m not that tiny,” you pout.

“And I’m not huge, Toots,” Schlatt says. You flip him off.

The doorbell rings, alerting you all that the sushi had finally arrived. Schlatt gets up to answer the door. Ted turns to face you. “My truck does not have a huge hole and you’re welcome to ride in it any time,” he tells you, loud enough for Schlatt to still hear him.

Schlatt returns and places the sushi on the coffee table. “I got a lot of different rolls so we can all just share. That’s usually what (Y/N) and I do anyways,” he says.

“Awesome. Thanks Schlatt,” Ted says. “What was Schlatt like as a kid?”

“Not much different than he is now. He has always been quiet, but also Incredibly funny. He also was just as loyal and dependable as he is now. I have always been proud to call him my best friend,” you admit. Even though it may be sappy, you never pass up the opportunity to brag on your best friend. You had said similar things to Paige at work. You hated being single some days, but you hated Schlatt being single even more. He’s such a great guy who deserves to be loved by someone.

“Wow, don't get all soft, Toots. Don’t let them lie to you, I’ve always been an asshole. They’re the one who’s all those things and so much more,” Schlatt says, making your heart skip a beat. When he says things like this, it makes you jealous of his future partner. You know he’s going to be such a great husband to his spouse.

“You do seem really great (Y/N). I’m glad I got to meet you tonight,” Ted tells you. You feel your cheeks getting redder. Ted is obviously flirting with you right? You weren’t the best at judging if people were flirting, but you felt like he was. Ted is a very good looking guy and one of Schlatt’s friends so maybe you should flirt back.

“You seem really great yourself, Ted. Glad that you interrupted our hangout,” you tell him.

“Ted, were you planning on staying the night?” Schlatt asks.

“I was hoping I could. I have my bags in the car,” Ted says.

“That’s fine. It’s just (Y/N) was going to spend the night and they usually sleep in the guest bed.”

“I can sleep on the couch. I am tiny after all,” you say. Schlatt’s couch is comfortable and you don’t mind.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch. Ted can sleep on the couch.”

“How about Ted takes the guest room and we can share your bed? We used to do it all the time when we were kids. I always stay on my side of the bed so it won't be an issue,” you offer.

Schlatt doesn’t look convinced. “Or we can share the guest bed,” Ted says to you.

“(Y/N), that’s a great idea. We did it all the time as kids. Why not as adults? What’s the worst that could happen?” Schlatt says.

The three of you decide to watch a movie. Schlatt lets you choose and Ted agrees. That is how you end up watching Tangled. Even though you don’t know Ted very well, you don’t let that stop you from singing along. You smile to yourself when you hear Schlatt humming to himself. The singing keeps you awake. A few times during the movie, your hand accidentally touches Ted’s as you both grab for some sushi. He lets you have it every time.

After the movie, you all get ready for bed. “Night Schlatt, Night (Y/N), sleep tight,” Ted says, before going to the guest room.

“Good night, Ted. It was nice meeting you,” you tell him, going to Schlatt’s room.

“Ted’s single right?” You ask Schlatt, while washing your face in his on suite bathroom.

“Yeah, why?” He asks.

“Just wondering. Did you see how he was flirting with me tonight? Maybe he was just being nice, but it really seemed like he was flirting with me.”

“I think he was just being nice, Bub. He has a flirty personality.”

You sigh. “You’re probably right. I just thought maybe. He’s your friend, so he’s obviously a good guy. He’s also pretty attractive.”

Schlatt just looks at you. “He lives way too far away. You don’t want your first boyfriend living across the country. You need someone who you can go on dates with and that will spoil you here.”

You just nod. “You’re right. I was just being optimistic. Thank you for always looking out for me.” You kiss him on the cheek as you walk back into his room. You miss the way his entire face turns red and the way he stays paralyzed for a second.

He takes a deep breath and walks into the room. You have already tucked yourself in. You have unintentionally put yourself on the opposite side that Schlatt usually sleeps. He makes his way into the bed and lays beside you.

“You know you can take your shirt off. It’s not like it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you tell him. He nods, before pulling his shirt off. “Comfy?”

“Yeah,” he lets out.

“Awesome. I sleep like a rock, so don’t worry about me cuddling you in the middle of the night. Also sorry if I snore,” you tell him.

He laughs slightly. “It’s okay. I’m sure I snore as well.”

“Night Jay.”

“Night Toots,” he says. After a little while when he thinks you are asleep, he mutters softly, “I love you.” Before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

You lay still, pretending to be asleep. Surely he means it in a friendly way, right? You choose to ignore it and drift off to sleep.

A/N: ahhh I love writing this story!! Parts might start being not as frequent as I have to go back to work next week. Boo!! Anyways thank you so much for enjoying this! Let me know what you think!

[max1461]

Using even your own example, I have never seen “White feminism” used to refer to black liberal feminism. I have never seen that before. If you can find me an example of a progressive calling a black liberal feminist a “White feminist,” I’ll take it all back. The liberal feminist doesn’t have to be black, she can be brown

Holy shit, this is actually a real argument! A real objection. Fuck man good on you, you're like actually making a point here! Wow... they grow up so fast :').

Anyway I'm too brained damaged and zonked out to actually do this but I encourage someone else to go looking, I really want to reward you for actually making a coherent point.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Well if you want an excuse to finish…

🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓

And if you’ve gotten enough, put this towards ‘gentle on my mind’ at some point.

- Sarah

Sounds good! Switching this to 🔼 - 135 or 1k:

---

“You’re… You already love them.”

Buck looks at Jane. He lifts her enough to press a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Of course I do,” Buck says. “But don’t… I mean, Eddie, you have family.”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “You met them. Saw what they’re like. I don’t want that for either of the kids.”

Buck nods. “Right, yeah…”

“You’re the person we both trust most,” Shannon says.

Buck doesn’t take his eyes off the baby. He tries to imagine a world without Eddie or Shannon. It seems dystopian. The worst case scenario. The darkest, most horrible timeline. But in that timeline, would he really want the kids swept away to Texas? Lost to him? He loves them both so much. Buck doesn’t know what kind of parent he would be… But he’d do anything to be good enough for them.

“Of course I’d do it,” Buck says. “If that’s what the two of you want, of course I will.”

“Told you,” Eddie mumbles.

“Well we still had to ask,” Shannon replies.

“Probably good to know ahead of time,” Buck agrees. But even if he hadn’t, what would he do? Say no? Obviously not. He’d never give up on Chris and Jane. Maybe that’s it. Why they chose him… 

“Thank you, Buck,” Eddie says. “Seriously.”

“Thank you guys for trusting me,” Buck says. His throat is feeling a little tight. “No matter what happens, ever, I’m… As long as you want me in their lives…”

“We do,” Shannon says. “And we know.”

“We have an appointment to update our wills this afternoon,” Eddie says.

Ah. Not a lunch date. Buck feels kind of stupid now. 

“Wow,” he exhales. “That quick.”

“Well, things happen quickly,” Eddie mumbles. 

“No, I get it,” Buck says. “You have to protect them.”

And now, so does he. So does Buck. Not that he didn’t before… Obviously he has, in a pretty big way, during the tsunami. He protected their lives. But now… Now it seems bigger. He seems… Everything seems a bit bigger. More important. Buck feels more important. Like he’s on call for something he hopes never happens. But something he has to be ready for and capable of doing. 

He’s not sure if Shannon or Eddie realize, but they’ve changed something in Buck. 

▶️

With Shannon agreeing to care for both kids by herself for the night, Eddie heads to Buck’s after their appointment with the lawyer. He’s thankful and he’s emotional and he needs to be alone with him for a little. This miracle of a man who has come into his life and helped restore his family, become his family, and open him up to a sort of love he might have always denied himself otherwise. Eddie feels such an overwhelming gratitude. He needs Buck to know that. 

So he shows him. 

He shows Buck how much he loves him, how grateful he is for him, in a language Buck knows well. He focuses entirely on him. Lets himself get lost in it. Until they’re both lying, breathless and sweaty, in Buck’s bed, and Buck’s brain seems to be in outer space. 

“I love you,” Eddie says, kissing a line down his bare chest. 

“I love you, too,” Buck murmurs, eyes half shut, barely present. “This was a fantastic surprise.”

“Had to make up for earlier being sort of morbid,” he jokes. 

Buck chuckles.

“Hey,” Eddie says. “I, uh… I don’t want to keep us quiet anymore.”

Buck sits up a little, suddenly snapped back to the present. 

“Wait, really? You want to tell people?”

Eddie nods. “I know it’s complicated. And, uh, potentially awkward for everyone… But, this… This is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, Buck. It shouldn’t be a secret.”

Buck’s resulting smile glows. 

“I’d love that, Eddie. I… I would love to be able to just brag about us, actually.”

“Brag about us?” Eddie laughs.

“Yeah,” Buck nods emphatically. “We’re a very attractive couple, Eddie. I should get to brag.”

Eddie kisses him. 

“Okay, you can brag. Hell, maybe I’ll out-brag you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

iii.

Not a lot changes for Shannon after Eddie and Buck come out. And she means come out, because not only do they have to come clean about their relationship to everyone, but they have to come out as queer, too. It’s not something, to Shannon’s knowledge, that anyone knew. As far as she hears, it goes okay. They’re at a station full of good people. They don’t have to worry about discrimination or abuse. They do apparently have to deal with a stern lecture about professionalism from Bobby, and apparently Buck is singled out for some teasing. But not about being with a guy. About being ‘obsessed with Eddie from day one,’ as Eddie relays proudly. Shannon might need to fact check that one. 

No one contacts her about it, is the point. Whatever Eddie was worried about, it doesn’t come to pass. They must do a good enough job of explaining the dynamic. 

What does happen, however, is a strange period of radio silence from Maddie. Shannon’s not sure what to make of it. One day, they’re friends as normal, and then after Buck and Eddie make their announcement, she hardly hears from her at all. She even goes so far as to cancel a plan they’d had to try a new coffee shop in Mar Vista. Shannon starts to take it personally. 

“Is something up with Maddie?” Shannon asks Buck one evening. 

“Hmm? Maddie?” Buck asks. He’s over at their place. Cooking for them.  They’ve started doing more and more with Buck lately. Not just Buck and Eddie or occasionally Buck with Shannon. Buck just seems to be here all the time. Either leaving at night on his own or with Eddie. And honestly? Shannon is liking it more than she expected. She’d have thought the three of them spending extended time together would be strange, but it’s not. Not at all.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Who is Yvette and may I please know more about their streaming career? 🙏

Comtesse Yvette Preux is, for lack of a better word, one of the ‘iconic’ investigators/PCs in Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy. She appears in a lot of art in the rulebook, as do many of the PCs of the A.N.I.M. team and our friends.

(both by team artist @chaospyromancy)

She’s also the first ever monster PC to ever be played in Eureka, back before Eureka even had official monster PC rules. The incredible success of that campaign is what set the precedent for what monster PC gameplay would come to be in Eureka.

You can read a bit of an origin story for her in this post

In the 2010s and 2020s, she has a fairly successful twitch streaming/influencer career, with her gimmick being that she claims to be a real 800+-year-old vampire, and allegedly never breaks character. Her twitch and YouTube channels cover competitive gaming, challenge runs, advanced math, firearms, and urban exploring.

In-person she is.. a little harder to get along with. She’s.. old-fashioned, and her values are very distinctly those of someone who grew up rich and Catholic in the 1200s, which ironically means she has little in common with a modern “tradcath.”

The contrast between the modern world, the modern world’s pop culture idea of the Middle Ages, and the actual Middle Ages is a major theme in the parts of her story where she’s actually integrating into the society of the 1990s and 21st century.

Many would expect her to be virulently and openly hateful, but that’s the pop culture Middle Ages. The actual Middle Ages were oppressive in different and more interesting ways.

I’ll give a few interesting examples

In the Middle Ages, women were considered the more “lustful” and “sexually aggressive” sex, a bit like men are thought of today. It’s women who were considered basically responsible for lust in the first place, to the point that it was considered a public health issue. Lust with no outlet was thought to be detrimental to one’s overall physical health. Sex or even masturbation was sometimes prescribed by doctors to combat this.

This is a comedic exaggeration/oversimplification but in the medieval world being around women would gradually fill up a Dark Souls-style Lust meter and if you didn’t do anything to reduce it it would take a chunk out of your health, making you sickly and prone to other health problems. Women were more resistant to this because they’re the source of lust in the first place. Medieval women covered their legs and their hair in particular for everyone’s protection.

This manifests in Yvette as her not caring at all about being naked in front of female friends, but being careful not to look too sexy around male friends. And then awkwardly telling them to masturbate later if they need to because it’s better to sin and live than to avoid sin to the detriment of one’s health. (In fact, knowingly damaging one’s health is a sin.)

In the art, you can see her not only wearing pants, but even wearing pants that show her ankles and legs, and wearing her hair down. It took her a long time to get comfortable wearing anything but full-length skirts around men, but these risqué (to her) outfits are symbolizing her character growth from someone who is accommodating to others to a fault, to prioritizing her own comfort, even at cost to others.

In the Middle Ages, they did not conceptualize homosexuality like we do now. No one was gay, and neither was anyone straight. Attraction wasn’t a trait of an individual, it was a fact. Homosexuality wasn’t really considered a thing that you were, it was a thing you do. It’s really hard to explain so I’m just going to hope y’all get it along with the example. Sodomy was sodomy, and that was considered to cover basically any irregular form of sex. Irregular sex between a man and woman was as much sodomy as sex between a man and another man. This also means that there was no presumption of homosexuality in the Middle Ages. You didn’t have to say “no homo” before you touched your same sex friend’s hand. Close friends would kiss each other on the mouth and stuff, and that was considered normal. (Though something you would want to avoid was spending more than a few minutes alone with an opposite-sex friend, because that could be used to call the woman’s virginity into question, which could hurt her eligibility for marriage.)

As Yvette understands it, in the 21st century, people have constructed entire communities around their enjoyment of sodomy, like how she’s a member of the gun club. She has complex feelings about that but it isn’t like she’s never engaged in sodomy before either. (She brought this to confession and did her penance so it’s fine.)

What really aggravates her is how she can’t touch or kiss any of her friends in the 21st century without it being considered sexual.

She argues it’s not “gay” for her to feel attracted to women either, it’s normal. Women are naturally attractive to everyone.

Where it really gets abrasive though is probably the classism. She’s from the noble class and still considers that to really matter, it makes her a little bit better than everyone else, and more qualified to be making decisions for people.

She does love commoners, though. All her friends are commoners, and she’s very protective of them. She’s too autistic to get that noblesse obligé wasn’t supposed to be a real principal she lives by and even back when she was for-real managing a fiefdom she was an advocate for the comfort of the peasantry.

I'm gonna have to stop listing all her quirks here because if I don’t stop then it’ll go on forever. If you want to read some short stories that feature her, subscribe to our Patreon.

I’ll segway by saying that two more major aspects of her are generosity and power. She revels in power in all forms, including the power to solve the problems of people who are helpless to solve them themselves. Like I said, she takes noblesse obligé very seriously. Jesus Christ had the power to multiply the fish and bread for the hungry, so he did. She can help, so she will(whether you like it or not). She hardly even considers it a “duty,” it’s more like why would she ever do anything else? Sometimes this means giving away staggering amounts of money, other (more exciting) times it means getting involved in a Eureka adventure/investigation, the more challenging and dangerous the better, because it makes her even cooler. This is what gets her into Eureka adventures. She’s going to help the helpless, what does it matter if it also fuels her ego?

I also just realized I’ve said very little about her actual twitch streaming career. Like I said, her gimmick is that she’s a real vampire. In the 2010s and 2020s, she is more or less “out” as a vampire, openly identifying herself as such and doing almost nothing to hide any aspect of her vampirism(except the part where she sneaks up on people in the night and drinks their blood, but she doesn’t hide that because it’s a vampire thing, she hides that because it’s an assault charge). Most people just think she’s weird, or really really dedicated to the persona. And if somebody does actually see her not reflecting in a mirror, or some other unexplainable proof of vampirism, what are they going to do? Go online and say “hey everyone I think that this popular e-celebrity whose gimmick is that she says she’s a vampire actually is a real vampire!”? Vampires aren’t real, idiot.

If you want to read short stories about her, you can get them with a $5 subscription to our Patreon,

and she and her exploits in Eureka campaigns are also talked about a lot in the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club.

The Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy rulebook will also have a section that will probably be called “the making of a vampire” that will detail some of her actual living life and shine a little more light on how a vampire actually comes to be in Eureka’s world.

[pendinghope]

Okay so I don’t have anything nearly as in depth to say but I do have some thoughts. This is more in general fandomness not just queer related media. So some context: This isn’t my art account but I do make fanart and societal views of the media greatly affect what I may end up posting. I recently became a fan of a kpop band and drew one of the band members. I was scared to post it cause of so many what-ifs and the fact that it didn’t get it to look quite right. But that’s beside the point. Anyway, when I went to talk to friends about if I should post it one of them pointed out some things I had never thought about. So kpop, anime, and other media doesn’t have a good reputation where I’m from though anime has become more accepted. My friend said “So you know how a group of women isn’t evil. But then when a group of women like something it’s given a bad reputation?” Something along those lines but they said it better than I could put into words. And I feel like this has to do with the “only straight women like this media”. It’s mysogenistic. And also just incorrect in the grand scheme of things. So many people like a variety of things but when certain groups of people like something people will attack it just using the basis “well these people like it so it must not be good”. Which, is just so odd. Why would a group of people liking something somehow affect the quality of media? Like I’m sure it would have some influence but not in the way that is used in such an argument. I want to go on more but honestly can’t figure out how to go on so pls add to this. (Sorry if this doesn’t make much sense, I’m not quite sure how to properly express my thoughts)

Now onto a different topic. So I’m a fan of very niche things and highly enjoy my corny cheesey little shows. Some of which I would recommend to my friends until they called one of my shows cringe. Which, okay if it isn’t your thing I completely understand. But it’s a show I’ve expressed that I loved and even recommended. Now if you want to call my show anything call it corny, cheesey, goofy, cause it is. It’s overly dramatic yeah but that’s its vibe. Cringe is so overused and just saying stuff like this made me more wary about what shows I offer people and avoid shows that maybe they would actually like. If you’re going to criticize something, don’t just use negative words. Call it what it is. If it’s cheesey or over dramatic maybe it won’t have that gritty plot line you’re looking for but it’s not supposed to have that. It’s supposed to be a lil goofy, it’s supposed to be fun. Yeah it’s ‘unrealistic’ but the characters have super powers so it was never meant to be. Hell even if they didn’t have powers sitcoms exist for a reason. (Rak Diao, my love).

Another lil tidbit I wanted to add on was just basic understanding of media. I’ve talked about this before so I’m just gonna copy and paste it but edit it to make sense in this context:

So I find I don’t understand everything. By this I mean I can take one understanding of a piece, look at the piece again and just be like damn how on earth was I so wrong before? It’s why I like giving shows a second chance. Cause I might of completely misunderstood what’s happening or maybe I never knew in the first place. It’s just the meaning I took at that time and now I’ll learn something else from it. Like something I might misremember or have a bad impression of I’ll go back and recheck and be like, yeah no I was so wrong. This is great! And vice versa, I’ll be like man this is so good, rewatch and notice things that are a bit iffy. And just go hmmmmm. Just enjoy what you enjoy and don’t be afraid to try things again or let things go. Also, a lot of things fly over my head in shows cause I’m not aware or conscious of everything and I don’t know all the experiences or relevant ties things may have so it’s always good to double check or get a second pair of eyes. (See I read an entire book thinking the main character was a boy. It wasn’t until literal years later I found out the main character was a girl. Did this change much of anything? Not really. But it’s an example and I still thought the fairy and main character were going to end up dating. Alas they did not.)

I hope some of this made sense. T^T

Putting my thoughts out here is terrifying, cause of again all those what-ifs. Anyway, I don’t know how to uh end my lil spiel so yeah. (￣▽￣;)

a question for QL fandom at large: when did we start only wanting media that is perfectly suited to our standards?

there has never been a perfect show, and there never will be a perfect show, because everybody likes different things and QL is run on shoestring budgets. i thought this was something we made our peace with as viewers of the genre!

so i'm just wondering at what point fandom decided that a show is only worthy of praise/fandom if it has no problems?

at what point did we decide that talking about the problems of a show is more important than talking about what we did enjoy and what kept us watching? i don't know when it happened, but it definitely has. critique is treated more seriously and gets more interaction than people talking about what they like.

it seems like a really exhausting and slightly puritan way to do things, to be constantly finding imperfections and treating them as more important than the good parts. dunno about y'all but i don't want to be unintentionally enacting puritan shit.

i want joy, i want fun, i want the spirit of camaraderie in fandom.

so, why did fandom begin to snub any media that didn't fit very high standards? and how can we steer ourselves away from that impulse?

(i am genuinely curious about why this is happening and how those of us who don't enjoy it can change, so please feel free to jump in, even if you are 'late' or think you only have a very small contribution to make to the discussion.)

[artificial-hope]

I feel like will never ever truly be seen by anybody. That finding somebody who will understand me and still choose to love me is a fruitless effort. All people will ever remember of me are my bad moments and my fuck ups. Nothing I do aside from that is memorable or any sort of achievement. I’ve grown up alone I’ll live alone and I’ll die miserable and alone and forgotten. I was put on this earth to be humiliated and laughed at and to suffer until either I’ve had enough or god has had enough and by god I’ve been tired of this for a long long time.