#this drama isn’t over here but it just reminds me of how much of a problem hockey fandom culture

[postseasons]

me when i react in a completely normal and not at all misogynistic way to a woman setting boundaries about her and her family’s personal life

[eowynstwin]

John Price x Reader. Fluff. Implications of a BDSM relationship.

At some point in the evening—for you, anyway, since when you answer the call it’s clearly midday for him—John finds the time during his latest deployment for a video chat.

He looks a little haggard when the call connects, face reddened across his nose and cheekbones and dark circles under his eyes. He brightens when he sees you, though, crows feet deepening.

“There’s my dove,” he says fondly, the rasp of his voice low and soft. His beard is growing out, curly and dark in the artifacting of the camera.

“There’s my captain,” you return, smiling.

“What day is it for you, there?” he asks, sitting back, getting comfortable.

“Saturday,” you answer.

“Mmm,” he hums, as if it’s the nicest thing he’s heard all day. Probably is, really. “Tell me about it.”

You do; John always likes to hear about your days, when he’s far away. The tiny adventures, the workplace dramas, the little pleasures and minor catastrophes of normal civilian life. Keeps him balanced, he tells you; reminds him there are other parts of his life aside from the job, and the work.

You show him the embroidery project you’re close to finishing, the little window hinges you bought at the craft store for the miniature apartment you’ve been building from a kit. It’s the same one that he always half-complains about being spread over the kitchen island when he’s home, and you always remind him that he doesn’t have much room to complain; he bought you the kit on a whim, after all, without your even asking.

At one point the door starts opening behind him—he’s posted up in a large tent, empty bunks behind him—and he quickly covers the camera with his hand. He mutes you for a moment, then comes back.

“Only got a few more minutes, sorry,” he says, refocusing on you. “And—y’didn’t mention that other project, I noticed.”

You suck your lips between your teeth, effecting ignorance. “Hm?”

“The writing one.”

As always, nothing escapes him.

“So here’s the thing,” you say, strangling the fingers of one hand with the fingers of the other, “the bathroom is so clean now, John.”

“Dove.”

“And I finally ordered my new glasses, you know, like I’ve been meaning to for months, and you keep reminding me about.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose between two broad fingers, eyes sliding shut like you’ve just told him that some important intel has gone bad. “How long have you been working on this.”

“I don’t think that’s important,” you squeak.

One blue eye opens, piercing you. Humor sparks in its depths, though when he speaks, his voice is gruff, every bit as commanding as when he gives orders to his men. “I need to go,” he says, “so here’s the deal I’m gonna offer you. If that draft isn’t done by the next time I speak to you, then when I get home I’ll put you over my knee and tan your arse until you’re crying. Understood?”

Your voice has retreated somewhere down your throat, hiding very far beyond your trembling vocal cords. “Yes sir, understood,” you manage to peep.

His other eye opens, and he smiles affectionately. “There’s a love.”

[melon-fodder]

What Friends Are For • T. Hiragi

Summary: Hiragi was annoyed when you bailed on the plans you had with him, but when finds you curled up with your heating pad, alone in your apartment he understands what happened, and now he wants to help.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: period sex, female-bodied reader, best friends to lovers, blood (obviously), cramps and other period symptoms, fingering, p in v, mentions of oral but it doesn’t happen (maybe next time)

Notes: this has been in my head for months now. It’s time to get it out. Special shout out to my nexplanon! Thanks for making me bleed for a solid month 😔✌🏻

Hiragi is annoyed.

Which isn’t uncommon for him, honestly, but it’s pretty rare that he’s annoyed with you.

You’d had these plans for a couple weeks now, a local band you both enjoy playing at a small venue downtown. You were excited. You had sent Hiragi all your different outfit options, and he’d given his honest opinions until you’d settled on the crop top, shorts, fishnets, and docs. He’d had to talk you out of the skirt you’d recently gotten— “I don’t wanna have to worry about creeps thinkin’ they can just slip their hands up there.”

“You don’t have to worry about me like that, Ragi,” you’d told him over the phone, “it’s not like I’m your girlfriend. You don’t have to defend my honor.”

A reminder that stings a little every time. You’re not his girlfriend, and he’s not your boyfriend, despite what everyone thinks and says. Despite everything that he feels.

None of that matters currently, though, because he’s pissed at you. Which is why he’s knocking on your apartment door to see what the fuck is wrong with you. Surely, there has to be something. It’s not like you to flake.

There’s some brief shuffling from inside before the door opens a crack, revealing a sliver of your face that looks… different.

“Ragi?” He just taps his foot until you open the door and let him in. “What’re you doing? I told you I can’t go out.”

The first thing he notices is that your eyes are a little puffy. Then, when he glances around your small living room, Hiragi sees that the TV is on, playing one of your favorite medical dramas—the one that’s just sex, surgery, and crying. You’re in a ratty old t-shirt (one of his, he’s pretty sure) and a pair of boy shorts that hug your hips and thighs too well.

“So what, you’re gonna skip out on this show so you can just sit here and watch TV?” His irritation has spiked again, familiar acid rising in his throat.

“What?” You peer at him like you’re confused then look back to the show and the little nest you’ve made yourself on your couch.

“It’s not… I wanna go. I just don’t think I’d have a good time.” Your face twists, both hands moving to your hips as you bend as if to stretch your back.

You’re acting weird.

“How do you know you’re not gonna have a good time?”

“Hiragi…” you say his name like a warning, and something new clicks into place.

You don’t feel well. The puffy eyes, the comfy clothes— “are ya sick or somethin’?”

You grimace, still bending and stretching while digging your thumbs into your lower back.

“No, I just— fuck, I need to lay back down.”

He watches as you walk to the couch and pull something out from under the mass of blankets, click a remote a couple times, then settle it against your back.

“I wanna go to the show, Ragi. And I’m not sick.” He can see the muscles of your jaw flex when you clench your teeth. “My fucking period is just kicking my ass tonight, okay?”

Oh. Oh. Okay.

“That… makes more sense, I guess,” Hiragi mutters, feeling much less irritated and much more foolish. “Can I get you anything?”

“A hysterectomy?” you joke, though it sounds more like begging.

“If I was qualified, you know I would.”

He can’t find it in himself to look at you. It’s not like Hiragi isn't familiar with periods. He’s had girlfriends and friends who are girls and, ya know, a mother.

He’s just—it’s just—you never bring it up around him. You’ve never mentioned cramping or bleeding or cravings related to it. He doesn’t even think he’s ever seen a tampon in your purse or your bathroom (not that he’s looked, it’s just something he’s noticed).

You must be able to see the confusion written all over his face. Or maybe you just know him too fucking well because with a heavy sigh, you explain, “I switched birth controls a couple months back. I didn’t have periods at all on my old one, but this one… anyway, I’m not used to the pain and everything else.”

This is a problem. You have a problem, Hiragi thinks, one that he can fix or, at the very least, help you with. Hiragi is good at fixing things. He’s good at finding solutions. So if he can just shove all of his awkwardness and discomfort to the side, he can focus on what’s important: making you feel better.

“You have pain killers?”

You shake your head.

“Menstrual products?”

You snort. “What?”

“Pads, tampons—”

“I know what they are, dummy,” you laugh, “just sounds weird when you say it like that. Menstrual products,” you imitate, and Hiragi rolls his eyes.

“Do you have any?”

You shrug, “not enough, but I use a disk anyway.”

Now is not the time for questions.

“Alright. I’ll be right back then,” he tells you before turning around to walk out.

“Wait! Where are you… nevermind,” he hears you mumble before the door shuts. If you know him as well as he thinks you do, you should have a pretty good idea of where he’s headed.

The little drug store at the corner doesn’t exactly offer luxury, but it’s stocked with what Hiragi needs. The girl behind the counter gives him a knowing look as she rings everything up and asks if he’d like to buy one of the mini flower bouquets that are displayed next to the register.

Tempting.

But it’s not like that.

“Nah, just this,” he says as he pulls out his wallet, the one you tease him about so much (“what is this, 2000? Get rid of the chain, old man!”).

It isn’t long before he’s walking back into your apartment like he lives there. Sometimes it feels like he does. Hiragi drops the bags on your coffee table and starts taking things out.

Medicine, the kind with added caffeine to help with headaches and energy. A box of tampons, regular and super. A box of pads just in case. Your favorite chocolates. A pint of ice cream he needs to put in the freezer ASAP, and…

“Is that a—”

“It’s not some dumb little plushie,” Hiragi immediately grabs what definitely looks like a dumb little plushie. “It’s got a rice pack in it, see? So you can heat it up and—”

“Cuddle with it?” You grin. “Is there a reason it’s an alligator? I feel like that’s not very period friendly.”

“It was an alligator or a crab,” he calls out, walking to the kitchen. “You want crabs?”

“No, I do not want crabs,” you shout. “But, I’m just sayin’. It’s a little suspicious you coming back with a plushie—”

“Not a plushie!”

“—that sort of resembles you that you want me to cuddle with.”

Hiragi leans to the side so that you can see him. “You associating me with every animal that has sharp teeth is your problem, not mine.”

The microwave timer goes off, prompting him to take out the rice pack and stick it back in the soft alligator. There’s a nice little weight to it, and it’s pleasantly warm by the time he hands it to you, still pouting about your teasing.

He moves your legs so that he can sit on the couch then resituates them on top of his own thighs, getting comfortable and trying not to smile when you press the plushie (yeah, that’s what it is) to your stomach and sigh.

“That’s nice.”

“Just lemme know when it needs to be reheated.”

“So, you’re just gonna sit here all night watching shitty medical dramas and reheating my hiragator?”

“Yeah, I—wait, what?”

“You heard exactly what I said,” you glare in that playful way you do, squeezing the heated toy tighter to you.

“You cannot name it Hiragator.”

“Alligatoma?”

“That sounds like a fuckin’ cancer.”

“So, Hiragator it is. Now that that’s settled, you can go to the show.”

Hiragi leans back on the couch and rubs his hands down his face before dropping them back to your calves.

“S’not gonna be fun without you,” he grumbles.

“Bullshit. You’ll be able to get into the pit without worrying about me.”

“I’m not eighteen anymore,” he chuckles. “There ain’t a single bone in my body that wants to get into a mosh pit.”

Your pretty smile disappears as your fingers dig into plush green fur, and Hiragi watches in concern as you curl further in on yourself. Trying not to disturb you too much, he reaches for the bottle of medicine and pours 2 out, glad that your water bottle is next to you on the floor.

“Here,” he urges, holding the pills out to you. You prop yourself up on your elbow to take them before collapsing back on the cushions.

“Seriously, you don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be fine.”

“Not like I have anything better to do,” he shrugs and changes the subject, “what episode are we on?”

“I started over so it’s the one where she’s dating Derek and the vet at the same time, and she’s getting stressed out about it.”

“Oh, when she has to get her appendix taken out?”

“Look at you remembering the details,” you giggle.

“I’ve probably seen it five damn times now, how could I forget?”

For the next hour, Hiragi sits with you, occasionally unwrapping a chocolate and handing it to you, sometimes rubbing your legs when you get that pained expression, trying not to think about how soft you feel and how he could get used to having you curled up next to him.

When he realizes the medicine either hasn’t kicked in or isn’t doing it’s fucking job, Hiragi finally braves the question, “did anything help before? I’m guessin’ you had periods before your old birth control, so what’d you do back then?”

“I don’t remember them being this bad, honestly, but sometimes when I’d have bad cramps…” you shake your head. “Never mind. Too much information.”

“What?”

“Nothing. You’d probably think it’s gross.”

Well, now his interest is definitely piqued.

“Just tell me.”

He gives your calf a tiny pinch that makes you squeal, “fine,” while kicking his thigh. “When I was, like, sixteen, one of my friends told me that orgasms helped her when she was in a lot of pain, so I tried it.”

Hiragi’s mouth is suddenly very, very dry, but he still manages to ask, “and did it help?”

“Yeah, quite a bit, actually.”

He feels warm, like he’s touching your heating pad. Is he sweating? His face is probably beet red. Thinking about you like that, trying to relieve the tension in your body, fingers between your legs—

Stop. Stop thinking about it. He can already feel his dick stirring to life, and that is the last thing you should have to put up with right now.

“I told you you’d think it was gross.”

Hiragi sets his jaw and shakes his head.

“You’ve got a natural painkiller. Why not use it?” It’s a miracle his voice is coming out as smoothly as it is.

“Cause it’s… it’s weird doing it when you’re not in the mood, I guess. And, like, it can get a little messy.”

Fucking Christ.

“It’s hard to masturbate when you don’t feel sexy, and it’s hard to feel sexy when you’re cramping and bloated and weepy.”

“Makes sense,” Hiragi nods to himself, tracing little patterns on your leg, brain completely empty aside from the thought, I could do it for you.

“What?”

Ah, shit. He’s usually so good at thinking through things before saying them out loud, but apparently the pathway from Hiragi’s brain to his mouth chose this one fucking time to malfunction.

No taking that one back.

“I said I could do it for you,” he repeats.

“I’m sorry, just so we’re on the same page, you’re talking about…”

“Giving you an orgasm. Making you cum. However you wanna put it.”

He shifts your legs a little further away from the growing bulge in his pants.

Your eyes are wide, mouth hanging open, and he feels the need to defend, “just cause you said it helped before! If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I just figured I’d offer.”

“I… honestly, I don’t know what to say. It’s been a while since anyone… and, I mean, it’d be weird, right? You and me? Plus, the blood, like… it’d be weird.”

“Whatever you say,” Hiragi hums. “I’m not scared of a little blood, though, just so we’re clear.”

“I never said you were. I know you’re very familiar with it, tough guy.”

“Pretty familiar with the female orgasm too, so you know.”

You make an undignified sound, something between a squawk and a shout that makes him laugh. “Telling me about your conquests isn’t gonna encourage me to let you stick your fingers up there!”

“I’m not gonna just stick ‘em up there, fuck, who have you been with that did that?”

“No one! I’m just saying!”

“Okay, Jesus, just watch your show.”

Hiragi makes a show of taking his hands off your legs and folds them behind his head. You somehow nestle deeper into the couch, hugging the alligator closer as you clench your teeth again.

How obvious would it be if he ran to the bathroom to rub one out? Would you be able to tell? He shouldn’t even need to. You barely talked about it.

But, the seed has been planted. The image of you on your bed with your knees open, your hand or maybe a toy rubbing over your sex.

Hiragi grabs a pillow and shoves it under your legs and therefore over his lap with the excuse that, “your heels are diggin’ into me.” That should take care of that for now.

About half an episode passes without the two of you saying anything, and when you do finally speak, it’s to quietly ask if he’ll reheat Hiragator for you.

“Only if you stop calling it that,” he says as he takes it from you.

“Never.”

He tosses it back into the microwave, of course, arms braced on the kitchen counter as he waits for the timer to go off. When he gets back, you have your eyes squeezed shut so tightly, it looks painful. There are tears right at the corners, and you’re taking slow, shaky breaths.

“Hey, hey, here,” he puts the plushie against your stomach and smooths a hand down your back, all the while wondering how the fuck you and every other uterus-having human puts up with this bullshit every month. It looks like hell.

“Ragi?” your voice cracks around his name.

He tilts his head, noticing your falling tears, and reaches over to wipe them away. “Hm?”

“You’re serious about helping me?”

He blinks at you. “You ever know me to be anything but serious?”

“I have seen very unserious sides of you. Sides that no one else sees.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Don’t go thinkin’ you’re special or somethin’.”

“Special enough for you to make a very bold offer,” you shoot back with watery eyes and a raised brow.

“You ready to take me up on that?” He hopes he doesn’t sound too excited.

You nod emphatically, biting your lip while clutching that damn alligator like it’s your only lifeline.

“Alright, go get comfortable in bed. I’ll grab a towel.”

He helps you up, laughing through his nose when he hears you mutter something along the lines of, “can’t believe we’re doing this.”

You disappear into your bedroom, leaving Hiragi to wash his hands and grab the towel. He sheds his jacket in your room, hanging it on the doorknob, and even though he’s still fully clothed, he feels naked without the extra layer, not to mention his boots that are next to your front door.

You’re sitting up by your pillows, knees to your chest, voice too fucking meek for Hiragi’s liking when you ask, “do you want me to go put a disc in real quick? I don’t… these are just special underwear to, like, absorb. I don’t—I don’t have anything in right now, so…”

Hiragi stares at you while unfolding the towel, laying it out before motioning to it.

“Like I said before, ain’t gonna bother me. Now get comfortable and take those off.”

“So demanding, geez.”

You sound light-hearted, like you’re joking, but Hiragi sees the way your hands are shaking. You’re nervous. He doesn’t like that.

“Hey,” he stops you once you’ve pulled your underwear down to your thighs, “look at me.”

“If you tell me to call you sir or master or some shit, I’m kicking you out.”

“Shut up for just a second, please, I’m bein’ serious.”

“So am I! Don’t try to get all kinky—”

He grabs your face, pushing your cheeks together so that you’ll stop fucking talking.

“Listen to me.”

“I lish’nen,” you try, and it actually makes him smile.

“If you don’t wanna do this. If you’re not comfortable or if you’re scared or whatever, we don’t have to. I really am just tryin’ to help.” You nod under his hand, and he lets go. “I’m not gonna get grossed out. I’m not gonna judge you for anything, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer with a smirk, and god dammit, it actually makes his cock twitch a little.

“You’re fuckin’ impossible to deal with, ya know that?”

“And yet, here you are doing just that.”

You shimmy out of your underwear and drop them over the side of the bed. It leaves you in nothing but that old T-shirt—Hiragi’s old T-shirt—so thin he can see the peaks of your nipples when you lie back.

He sits on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to relax, to let your knees fall open, to bare yourself to him. That's not something he’s ever rushed a woman on, and he’s definitely not gonna rush you. You close your eyes, bite your lip, then slowly spread your legs.

Hiragi has to focus on breathing, in and out, in and out, as his gaze land on your pussy. Puffy lips decorated with sticky blood and slick. He’s glad your eyes are closed because he licks his lips at the view. Hiragi could stare all day, but that’s not what he’s here for.

“You ready?” he asks, voice lower than usual.

“Yeah, you can… you can touch me.”

He feels his dick throb at those words, growing even harder when he grazes his fingers over your mound. You gasp, body tensing before relaxing again, like you had to remind yourself that you’re safe here with him.

He slides a finger up your slit, through the wetness, glancing down to note the mixture of blood and arousal before he spreads your folds.

There are so many things he could say at the sight of your twitching hole, so many ways he could praise the pretty pink leaking dark red like some kind of sordid Valentine’s candy that Hiragi wants to devour.

His eyes fall on the little bud at the crest of your lips, cute and begging for attention, and when he circles it with a wet finger, you stifle a moan with your fist.

“You can be loud, it’s your place,” Hiragi tells you, watching your face as he gently rubs over your clit, “plus, I’ll know it feels good if ya keep makin’ noises like that.”

He gives it a little flick that makes your hips buck, and you swear at him.

It doesn’t take long for Hiragi to learn what you like and what you don’t. You like the circles he rubs on your clit. You like when he just barely dips a finger between your folds.

And, you really like it when he slowly slides his middle finger deep into your pussy.

“Ohhmygod…”

Using the thumb on his other hand, Hiragi starts teasing your clit again, pride swelling inside him at the way your eyes roll into the back of your head. Looking down, he watches his finger as it glides in and out of your body, fresh blood coating the digits. A thick string of it stretches from your hole to the towel beneath you, viscous as it mixes with your slick, and Hiragi can’t help but watch until it snaps.

“Fuck, that feels… that feels good.”

“Yeah?” He crooks his finger a bit, searching for that extra-swollen bundle, and when you cry out, he knows he’s found it.

The way you’re moaning and shifting your hips has him worked up, his cock straining against the zipper of his pants, and he wants to relieve some of the pressure so fucking bad, but he definitely doesn’t wannna give you the wrong idea.

“Can you—can you add another finger? I just need—more p-pressure… wanna be full.”

Hiragi groans. He can’t keep it in. And he knows he sounds wounded because it feels like you just shot him. You wanna be full.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he forces out, lining up his index with his middle finger and pushing them both inside you.

You suck them in greedily, needy as you start to chase your climax. Hiragi wets his thumb again, massaging your clit, eyes flicking from your cunt to your face, all your pretty expressions while he stuffs your pussy.

You’re making a mess of yourself and the towel. He can smell iron, which is strange because usually when he smells it, he can feel it in a busted lip or bitten tongue. Usually, when he smells it, he can taste it.

He's gonna cum in his pants if he keeps thinking about that, about shoving his face between your legs and feasting. He’s fantasized about eating you out countless times before, but never like this. Never so desperately. He’s never felt this fucking deranged over it.

“Fuck, please, please, please,” you cry, meeting his fingers on every thrust, trying to take more than he can give with them.

“What? What can I do?”

Hiragi raises to his knees, keeping pace with his fingers and planting his other hand by your head so he can lean over you.

So gorgeous like this—face splotchy, eyelashes wet with unshed tears, lips dark and swollen from the way you’ve been biting them. He has to fight not to kiss you, especially when you’re gazing up at him like this. Wanton. Hungry.

“What do you want?” he breathes. He’s too close to you, face just barely hovering over yours, and he’s sure you can see the lusty fog in his eyes, but you’ve got it too.

You whisper something, and he can feel the ghost of his own name against his lips, but not as clearly as he feels the words “fuck me” that fall from your mouth before you kiss him.

It’s harsh and desperate, teeth and tongues and heavy breathing before he breaks away to unbuckle his belt and free his aching cock.

“Don’t have a condom,” he says before reattaching himself to you, sucking on your bottom lip as he rubs himself over your messy pussy.

“Birth control, remember?” you pant. “S’why we’re here to begin wi—”

Hiragi pushes inside of you with a deep groan, one smooth thrust until he’s bottomed out and you’re clawing at his shirt. Your eyes are rolled back again, mouth barely moving against his like you’re in a daze.

“Feel full now, baby?”

You nod, and Hiragi gives you one more gentle kiss before he starts an even rhythm, his thick cock gliding in and out of you with ease. When his thumb finds your clit again, you moan his name like a plea, over and over again as your body starts to tighten up.

“Ragi, fuck, oh my god…”

Looking down, Hiragi watches your cunt swallow him, coating him in shiny red as a ring of thick white forms at the base of his cock. You’re a fucking mess, creaming all over him as he pushes blood and squirt out of your pussy.

“You gonna cum for me?” he grunts, feeling his balls tighten as his own orgasm builds. “Come on, baby, lemme see how good you feel.”

“So good,” you gasp, “s-so—oh, fuck…”

Your back arches off the bed just before you clamp down around Hiragi. Even if he didn’t want to cum, he wouldn’t be able to stop it, not with the way you milk it out of him—walls so soft and wet as they squeeze him, suck him even deeper as he empties his balls and paints your insides with hot cum.

All he wants to do is collapse on top of you, but he has enough sense to pull out first, causing both of you to hiss, then lets himself fall to the side.

It’s silent for a while, heavy breathing and voices from the TV filtering into your bedroom. Hiragi has the horrifying thought that nothing will ever be the same between the two of you after that.

That was as raw as it fucking gets. That was blood and guts and cum. So much cum.

Then, he feels you grab his hand and squeeze.

“Feel any better?” he asks, voice nothing but gravel.

“I feel a lotta things,” you hum. “Better is one of them.”

“That’s good, yeah?”

“Yeah… but I’m also sad,” you admit with a pout, and Hiragi rolls onto his side to look at you.

“There’s nothin’ to be sad about. You know we’re still good, right? We’re still—”

“It’s not that,” you sigh.

“Then what is it?”

You roll to face him, eyes still a little hazy from your orgasm but all big and shimmering when you look at him.

“Hiragator’s gonna get so lonely now that I have you to fuck the cramps outta me.”

“Oh my fucking god!”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, hiding your face in your hands as Hiragi throws a leg over you and pulls you into his chest.

You are the worst—the absolute worst, and he loves everything about you, from the mess between your legs to the curve of your smile against his collarbone. Hiragi loves it all.

[raspberryslxt]

UNEXPECTED TURNS - PART 6

TVD X OBX FANFICTION

jj maybank x gilbert!reader x rafe cameron

-

Y/n woke up the next morning feeling like her head was filled with static. The revelations from the previous day hung heavy in her mind. Vampires, Elena being adopted, Stefan’s cryptic demeanor—it was too much to take in. For the first time since she arrived in Mystic Falls, she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

She needed a break. A distraction. Something that didn’t involve supernatural drama or family secrets.

-

That afternoon, y/n texted Tyler and Matt, asking if they wanted to meet up. It had been too long since she’d spent time with them, and she missed the simplicity of just hanging out with friends.

At the Mystic Grill, Tyler was the first to arrive, sliding into the booth across from y/n with his usual confident smirk.

“Well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” Tyler teased.

“Shut up, Tyler,” y/n said with a small laugh. “I’ve been dealing with a lot. It’s nice to see a familiar face, though.”

Matt arrived shortly after, his smile warm as he greeted her. “Y/n! It’s good to have you back. You’ve been, like, a ghost around here.”

“Yeah, well, Mystic Falls has been… complicated,” y/n admitted, stirring her drink with her straw.

Tyler leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “Complicated? Try living here full-time. What’s going on with you?”

Y/n hesitated, unsure how much to say. “It’s just… family stuff. You know how it is.”

“Don’t remind me,” Tyler muttered, glancing out the window.

Matt gave her a concerned look. “If you ever want to talk about it, we’re here. But you don’t have to if it’s too much.”

Y/n smiled, grateful for his understanding. “Thanks. Honestly, I’d rather talk about something else. Like what’s been happening in the Outer Banks.”

“Outer Banks?” Tyler asked, intrigued.

“It’s where I’ve been staying. I made some… interesting friends out there,” y/n said, her mind immediately drifting to JJ and Rafe.

“Interesting, huh?” Matt said with a grin. “Tell us more.”

Y/n leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “There’s this guy, JJ. He’s wild, reckless, but he’s got this heart of gold. He’s one of those people you just can’t help but root for.”

Tyler smirked. “Sounds like trouble.”

“Oh, he is,” y/n admitted with a small laugh. “But then there’s Rafe. He’s… complicated. Charming, but he’s got this dark side that’s hard to ignore.”

Matt frowned. “You sure about this Rafe guy?”

“I don’t know,” y/n admitted, looking down at her drink. “He’s hard to figure out, but there’s something about him that pulls me in.”

“You’ve got your hands full,” Tyler said with a chuckle.

“Tell me about it,” y/n muttered.

-

After Matt and Tyler left , Y/N decided to stay a little bit longer at the Grill. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but the idea of sitting at home and brooding over her problems didn’t appeal to her either.

She sat at the bar, nursing a soda and people-watching, when someone slid onto the stool next to her.

“Well, if it isn’t the other Gilbert sister,” a familiar voice drawled.

Y/n turned to see Damon, his trademark smirk firmly in place. “What do you want, Damon?”

“Relax,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Can’t a guy enjoy a drink without being accused of having ulterior motives?”

“Not when that guy is you,” y/n shot back, raising an eyebrow.

Damon laughed, a low, amused sound. “Touché.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the noise of the Grill filling the space between them.

“You’re not like Elena,” Damon said suddenly, his tone more serious than before.

“Wow. Thanks for the revelation,” y/n said dryly.

“No, I mean it,” Damon continued, turning to face her. “Elena’s all… selfless and noble. You’ve got an edge to you. It’s refreshing.”

Y/n studied him, trying to decide if he was being sincere or just trying to get under her skin. “And you’re an ass,” she said finally, though there was no heat in her voice.

Damon grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As they talked, y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that Damon was holding back. He was arrogant, sure, but there was something deeper beneath the surface—something he wasn’t sharing.

-

Later that night, as y/n lay in bed, her phone buzzed. She smiled when she saw Rafe’s name on the screen.

“Hey,” she said, answering the call.

“Hey yourself,” Rafe replied, his voice warm. “How’s Mystic Falls treating you?”

“Let’s just say it’s been… eventful,” y/n said with a sigh.

“Yeah? What’s going on?”

“Family drama. Secrets. The usual,” y/n said vaguely. She wasn’t ready to explain everything to him just yet.

“Well, if it gets too bad, you know where to find me,” Rafe said, his tone softening.

Y/n smiled, her heart tugging at his words. “Thanks, Rafe. I might take you up on that.”

“Good. We miss you down here,” he said.

“I miss you too,” y/n admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

After hanging up with Rafe, y/n’s mind wandered to the mysterious man she’d met at the airport. His presence lingered in her memory. There was something magnetic about him, something that made her feel both intrigued and uneasy.

Who was he, really? And why couldn’t she shake the feeling that their meeting wasn’t a coincidence?

-

The days that followed y/n’s arrival in Mystic Falls were anything but peaceful. Each moment seemed to pull her deeper into the town’s dark, supernatural underbelly. It was like stepping into a waking nightmare, one filled with secrets, danger, and centuries-old grudges.

Y/n had gone to the Salvatore house, hoping for answers. She had more questions than ever—about Elena, about Stefan, about the supernatural—and though she still struggled to believe what she’d been told, she couldn’t ignore what she’d seen with her own eyes.

When she arrived, she found Damon pacing the living room, a drink in his hand. His movements were sharp and irritated, like a caged predator.

“Damon?” y/n ventured cautiously.

He turned, his face lighting up in mock surprise. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite little Gilbert sister. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have questions,” y/n said, crossing her arms. “And you’re going to answer them.”

Damon smirked, raising his glass. “I like the confidence. Unfortunately, you’re a little late—I’m busy saving the world.”

“What are you talking about?”

He sighed dramatically, throwing himself onto the couch. “Let me guess—Elena didn’t tell you about the tomb vampires.”

“Tomb vampires?” y/n repeated, her stomach tightening.

“Yep,” Damon said, popping the “p.” “A whole bunch of bloodsuckers locked away beneath the church, thanks to a witchy spell from 1864. And now, because Elena’s big heart can’t leave well enough alone, we’re trying to open it and save one of them.”

“Wait, why would Elena want to save a vampire?” y/n asked, confused.

“Because she’s Elena,” Damon said with a shrug. “Always thinking with her heart instead of her head.” He leaned forward, his expression hardening. “And when this all goes sideways, which it will, she’s going to need people to clean up the mess. That’s where I come in.”

Y/n stared at him, her mind racing. The idea of vampires locked away for over a century was horrifying enough, but the thought of them being unleashed was worse.

-

Later that evening, y/n sat in the Salvatore living room as Stefan, Elena, and Damon discussed their plan.

“So, let me get this straight,” y/n said, rubbing her temples. “You’re going to break a spell to release a bunch of vampires, hoping you can just grab one of them and close it again before the others get out?”

“Basically,” Damon said, pouring himself another drink.

“Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?” y/n asked, looking at Elena.

“It’s not ideal,” Elena admitted, her expression conflicted. “But we don’t have a choice. We have to save Katherine.”

“Katherine?” y/n asked, frowning.

Damon leaned against the mantle, a bitter smile on his lips. “Stefan’s ex. My ex. The love of our lives. And the reason for all this mess.”

Y/n looked at Stefan, who avoided her gaze, his jaw tight. “This is about a girl? Are you serious?”

“It’s more than that,” Stefan said quietly.

Y/n threw her hands up. “Of course it is.”

-

The plan fell apart almost immediately. Y/n had insisted on staying at the house, but after hours of pacing and worrying, she found herself driving toward the old church ruins. She couldn’t just sit by while her sister risked her life.

When she arrived, the scene was chaos.

The tomb’s door had been opened, and Damon was standing guard at the entrance, his face dark with frustration.

“Y/n, what the hell are you doing here?” he snapped, grabbing her arm as she approached.

“I couldn’t just stay home,” she said, pulling free. “Where’s Elena?”

“In there, with Stefan,” Damon said through gritted teeth.

Y/n peered into the darkness of the tomb, her heart racing. “Is she okay?”

“Define okay,” Damon said. “She’s risking her life for a vampire who doesn’t give a damn about her. But yeah, she’s alive. For now.”

Before y/n could respond, a figure emerged from the tomb—a pale, gaunt vampire with wild eyes. Damon moved like lightning, snapping the vampire’s neck before it could take another step.

“Go home, y/n,” Damon said, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/n ignored him, her eyes fixed on the tomb’s entrance. “I’m not leaving without Elena.”

When Stefan and Elena finally emerged, they looked exhausted. The tomb was sealed once again, but not before several vampires had escaped.

Y/n drove Elena home in silence, her mind racing. She couldn’t believe how close they had all come to disaster, and the worst part was knowing this wasn’t over.

-

One night, after another tense family dinner filled with half-truths and guarded looks, y/n sat down with her laptop. Her finger hovered over the “Book Now” button for a flight to Kildare.

She thought about Elena and the chaos of Mystic Falls. She thought about JJ and Rafe, about Ward’s warnings, and about the man from the airport.

Finally, she clicked the button.

It was time to go back to the Outer Banks.

[amourlyns]

hey. I already made a request, but if you have a limit you can scrap that one.

My cat has been gone for 3 days (shes never been gone this long, shes an in door cat). We just got a ton of snow and I just overheard my parents saying they think the neighbor did something to her. I've had her since I was 11 and she means so much to me. I've been having a hard time having any sort of fun with my family for the holiday season and if you could I could really use any windbreaker characters of your choice comforting reader about that scenario?

❛ HEY VENGEANCE. ❜ ➜ ⁽ masterlist ⁾

✧ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: a jealous owen, reminding you that you’re his forever and always. after hearing a fan compliment you after one of his races.

✧ ��𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: none

✧ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: owen uses a lot of praise, but he’s also getting his ego fed bc he’s a brat. insane by summer walker was on repeat ngl + imagine that one video of asap hearing riri’s laugh. 😭i’m sorry to hear about your cat!! i hope yall found her in the end. hopefully this fic helps.

⟡ ⠀ | Owen Knight is not insane, you know that and he knows that. So, why is he hearing your voice ? And why does it ring out so clearly in the stadium ? You’re supposed to be in the UK.

Korea wasn’t going to work with you schedule, he knew that and begrudgingly accepted it. So who the fuck is making you laugh and giggle like that? Yeah, he won the race but at what cost ? Where is his baby at—

There you are.

Now you don’t see him, but you could definitely feel his gaze on you, he knows you can. So why aren’t you looking at him? The race was over— and you came to Korea just for him.

So why was another man hogging your attention ? You didn’t even seem remotely interested. Your eyes eventually meet with Owen’s, a smile graces your lips. You’re already making hasty strides in his direction.

Even though all of your attention is on Owen now, his stare still lingers on the man you were talking to moments ago. Owen was always transparent about his feelings, you could read him like a book. He was vocal, and if he was thrown off by something? He would make it known.

He starts it off slow, discussing your appearance in Korea and what a lovely surprise it is, it really was of course. So there was no lie there, but he does mention the man you were talking to before.

❛ Why did you sit closer, baby? ❜ Owen pouts, jutting out his lower lip. You place a quick peck on his lips, cupping his cheeks and chuckling at his own behavior. He’s such a drama king, you’re not quite sure how you manage, especially with him.

❛ Owen, sweetheart I’m only here for you. And you only, so why are you worried? Hm? ❜ He flushes at this, maintaining eye contact. A hand reached out towards your wrist, sending soft kisses around your finger tips. ❛ I deserve all your attention, you know it. ❜

Your practically beats out of your chest, it takes you a moment to remember you two are in a very public space. And he didn’t mind the PDA at all? ❛ Owen, slow down. ❜ It comes out much more softer than intended, he stops. Looking at you with wide expecting eyes. What’s next?

❛ Did he say anything? ❜ Owen huffs, pushing further into your personal space. A smiles graced your lips at his intensity, he is so in love. Isn’t he? ❛ The guy complimented my shirt, he knew I was supporting you. ❜ You’ve obviously struck a nerve.

Owen scowls, pursing his lips at the thought of some stranger complimenting you. Despite the shirt and all. ❛ And that was seriously it? But he was staring at you for so long— ❜ Lips find purchase on his. Quickly silencing Owen in the most effective way.

He’s already asking for another by the time you’re backing up. Trailing you like a lost puppy dog. You let him, of course. Telling him to pack up so you can cuddle at home and enjoy each others company. He’s already agreeing—

[andrea-lyn]

Roswell New Mexico - Master Fic Rec Post

See under the cut for thirty-four total recs, predominantly Malex. There's also 10 additional in the "Recs Less Travelled" project here.

a few drinks and some conversation by @christchex

Michael Guerin makes a friend who isn’t his sibling, an ex, or a sibling’s ex.

Astriferous Sea by hrhbrittany, Sismyn

Alex has always been the baby among the sirens in the Dead Sea. Michael is performing beard services for his sister. Communication is a little wishy-washy.

This AU came out of nowhere and smacked me right with the ‘I’ve always wanted this and I just never knew’. It has sirens and rescues and bad guys and false relationships and real marriages and rings and drama and romance. It honestly reminds me (in the best way) of an exciting romance novel and I’m so jazzed there’s still one part left to it.

The Bachelor by Sweetgirl2019

After the events of high school, Michael, Isobel & Max moved to California while Liz, Maria & Kyle stayed in Roswell and Alex went to war overseas. Once his enlistment period ends, Alex gets thrown into something that brings him and Michael back together again.

So I think this might be my favourite to see updated right now. It should be a run-of-the-mill fluffy AU, yet the author threw this incredible curveball by using the alien background in a canon divergence to turn The Bachelor into both a romantic dramedy for the boys, but also keeping the looming threat of people finding out about aliens in the background. Also, I think this is top tier pining that you will actively feel in your own chest, that’s how good it is. 

blink back to let me know by haloud - Roswell New Mexico

Alex doesn’t have important conversations over the phone when he can avoid them. It feels too much like going in blind. But in some ways, the phone makes it easier–it’s easier to break when no one’s looking.

It’s Mylex and the 5th in a series, and every part is worth reading, but I definitely re-read parts 4 and 5 a lot. It’s so well written and the dynamic is mwah and I love how Kyle fits into this. One of my favourite pieces in this is how Kyle reacts to his father in relation to Michael & Caulfield and it’s an amazing read.

built this house on memories by @villanellve

He wakes up eight years in the future, and everything is strange, but Alex is there.

YOU GUYS. If you were to write a list of tropes I adore, this would be way up there at the top because of how much I love it. I am a sucker for a character having to be removed from their situation to learn (whether it’s an alternate universe or the future or the past), but this one is so achingly painful and perfect and hopeful. I love the callout that the situation is almost too hard for Alex, I love the resolution at the end on Michael’s part, and you could just soak in the happiness and comfort of their future lives if you let yourself.

Can’t Get No by one_flying_ace

“They’re on round two already,” he says, tilting his head towards the truck again, “or maybe three.” Guerin grimaces, and that’s fair; it’s his brother, after all. “You know how they’re feeling. Could I handle it, if you stopped-” being in control, he doesn’t say, but Guerin shudders. “I’m good, Alex. Just keep the hell away.” (Or: alien sex rocks don’t make them do it, but they sure do help.)

Sex pollen/sex-or-die fics are pretty much a requirement, but this is my absolute favourite and I have re-read it more times than I can tell you (let’s put it at six or seven?) The restraint that Michael has in this is amazing, but the mental images of it are incredible as well. I loved Max and Liz’s secondary presence as well and how each character was tonally perfect down to the little things (like Max not noticing Michael’s sex marks). What a good. What a hot. What amazing.

Constant as the Northern Star by celzmccelz

Michael stares at Kyle. “But I’m a guy! How can I be pregnant?” Kyle looks embarrassed. “Well, you appear to have a fully functioning set of female reproductive organs—or, I mean, like, the kind of reproductive organs that are associated with a double X-chromosome in humans, so I’d assume that you probably became pregnant when semen was introduced into your reproductive tract—” “Jesus Christ, Kyle!” says Michael. He could have happily lived the rest of his life without ever hearing Kyle Valenti say the words “semen” and “reproductive tract.” Kyle’s eyes widen. “Have you been having unprotected sex?” “Oh my God, I am not having this conversation with you!”

Yes, going in, there are some warnings to be cognizant of. It’s mpreg, there’s a lot of medical stuff to go through, but I think this is my absolute favourite of the mpregs I’ve read and it actually comes down to Michael’s support system outside of Alex, namely in Kyle. There’s no sudden BFF bracelets being given, but that morality that makes Kyle Valenti who he is, that’s right there. Also, given that this is an mpreg fic, it delves into family and plot in a way that I haven’t often seen. Plus, you get the ‘getting back together’ Malex that I so deeply crave.

Contigo me encontré by beautifulcheat (Katalyst), ladynox

The Lockhart House was once a home, although it was never a happy one. Steeped in tragedy, it still stands today, in the heart of Old Town Roswell, attracting ghost hunters and those seeking to catch a peak of something from beyond the veil.

Contrary to popular myth, it wasn’t currently haunted (except by one paranormally talented docent). It was Michael’s favorite job and the best part of his summer home from UNM. Or at least was until Alex Manes was hired to man the gift shop, complicating an otherwise fun and easy job.

everywhere on earth you go - @evepolastried

Across the room, he can still see how Michael Guerin is looking at him. And that’s something different, something new, something so very familiar. The thrill of nerves, of guilt, of want. Alex smiles, and he starts to sing. (OR: Alex Manes grabs his guitar and gets the hell out of Roswell in 2008, and he leaves behind a letter. Here’s what happens ten years later)

I love this. This one has something incredible, and it’s something I called out, but it has this amazing work with pace. There’s a frantic moment at the bar and it’s chaos, and you feel it. It’s rushed and wild and crazy, but then everything slows down and it gets perfect. There’s Michael, there’s Alex, there’s music, and it’s such a great ride.

Family Matters by @bestillmyslashyheart

Isobel is telepathic. Most of the time she ignores it. She used to pick up on other’s people’s emotions but she’s long since learned to tune that out. Until one night she can’t. Someone, somewhere is in such a state that it’s spilling over and she’s left to deal with the brunt of it. Or, Michael keeps things close to the vest until he can’t. The night after Alex leaves him at the drive-in, everything he’s feeling bubbles up inside until it spills over onto Isobel. Suddenly he’s left with no other choice but to open up.

This is an early fandom piece, but I still think it’s held up to an immensely amazing rate. Not only that, but I love how it delves into powers, Michael and Isobel’s relationship, and the incredible idea of spillover, which I still actively wish would become canon because of this fic. I think it’s so IC, especially with Michael’s active wish not to talk about it that he screws himself over in his sleep and seriously, it’s such a good read for both Isobel & Michael stuff, but also Michael & Alex.

the first who ever did - nostaljinks

Five times Michael saves Alex + 1 time Alex saves Michael back.

I feel like there aren’t enough words that I can heap onto this of praise. This fic is well-written, well-plotted, well-thought out, well-everything. It’s a beautiful emotional roller coaster and will make you ACHE, but in a great way. It also is the right amount of long that you want more, but you also get it, and it’s just as quality as the rest. ABSOLUTE must read.

fish bowl by @sabrinachill

Alex makes a series of phone calls and bad choices that lead him directly here — an Airstream on the edge of a junkyard with a distractingly attractive mechanic showing him how the dining table converts into a bed that he can sleep on for just $75 a week. It is, of course, completely absurd. But there’s something cozy about the fuzzy yellow blanket on the bed/table and the sparkling sunlight streaming through the mostly-clean windows, in the smell of leather and motor oil and aftershave and summer storms, in the hopeful half-smile on Michael’s face. That’s his name — Michael. Alex’s potential new roommate and landlord. (AKA An AU About Quarantined Roommates Who Fall in Love)

I highly recommend anything by @sabrinachill, but this fic is a really clear argument about why. It’s an AU that involves quarantine, and you might think ‘oh, I’ve read that before’, but then it will take you down the unexpected road that you didn’t expect to go down, but as soon as you take that twist, you instantly realize how much better it is that way. Hats off to the clever plotting not just in Fish Bowl, but other fics! 

Funny How Things Never Change - @waroftheposes​

“What can I do for you?” Michael asks, turning to face Alex. Alex can tell the moment that Michael’s mind registers who he’s addressing, because the polite smile drops from his face and the hat falls from his hand. He stands there, eyes wide and unbelieving, looking at Alex. Alex takes a deep breath, willing his racing heart to settle. “Well,” he begins and is his voice shaking? “For starters you can get your stubborn ass over here and give me a divorce.” – (A Sweet Home Alabama AU)

Yooooo, guess who was bereft when she thought she lost this link. It was absolutely me. This AU makes me happy in so many ways, especially the storms in the desert motif that keeps coming back around, and also that it’s messy. I like that it’s not cut and dry, that it goes right up until the wedding, and that it takes some real talk for them to get back together. I love fics where they all get to be human and this one is just so good. 

I Know Nothing Stays The Same by aewriting

“Alex doesn’t believe in miracles until one happens to him. His father has a hammer in one hand and Alex’s throat in the other. As Alex’s consciousness fades, he’s dimly aware of movement. His father’s about to swing the hammer, and this is how Alex will die.” When an unexplainable force puts a stop to Jesse’s attack in the shed, Alex and Michael are forced to go on the run. Leaving Roswell is an easy decision, but navigating the consequences of that choice months and even years later proves to be much more complicated.

I think this one became a must read very early on, but then it’s continued to deliver. There’s been a few stories that delve into the characters getting therapy, but there’s a whole chapter here where it genuinely feels cathartic as we go through the process with Alex. This fic also is an excellent and long version of an AU I think that we’ve all wondered, about what would happen if they ran away, and it’s so well written and so real that I know I will be re-reading this a ton. Like many of the others, why I love it is because it’s not perfection, but it’s the kind of real where I want to wrap myself up in it. 

i won’t go, i can’t do it on my own by @queersirius

alex tries to let go by giving back the pieces of michael he’s kept

Millie has a bunch of AMAZING AUs (guys, the 10 Things I Hate About You is something I never thought I’d get, especially from a favourite author), but i think this one is actually my favourite, especially when it comes to the ship piece that Alex has. Again, when I talk about ‘fics that make me want to be better’, this one was one. The writing is engaging, the characterization is fabulous, and the emotions are so honest and real. Then there’s this line, like a gut punch:  “Because it’s the last thing I have of you,” he admits. “The last piece of you I have to let go of.” which I love because it’s still Alex’s journey, an honest attempt to offer closure (if closure is wanted). 

in some other life - @spaceskam​

michael tries to build a time machine, but ends up in a different reality all together

There are a lot of these that have been written and they are all quality, but I love this one especially because of how we get into Alex in the other universe, get the glimpse of this unknown Michael, but also the scene that strikes this one out for me is that Alex doesn’t want to let him go. I love that Alex gets to be selfish, that he begs for him to stay, and that we don’t get the automatic happy ending in that, but there’s still the hope for it. Also, Alex the Angel, unf. 

intimate encounters of the third kind by @alexmanes

Three years after Antar and its people take Earth under their wings, Roswell becomes the epicenter for human-alien relations between both planets. It doesn’t take very long for Alex Manes to find himself embroiled in a scandal that threatens this intergalactic partnership, all thanks to a beautiful man named Michael Guerin who is not nearly as human as he claims to be.

Okay, so, if you like No Love Like Your Love, the truth is that you have this fic to thank. This was my first introduction in RNM fandom as to what a really amazing fic could be that incorporated the royalty elements into the pairing. Once 1x12 aired and we met Michael’s mother, it was pretty much a done deal that I wanted to do something that played with that, but this is the actual inspiration. It’s well plotted, it has a great ensemble cast, and plays with the kind of care that it takes to know your plot inside and out, but also to leave breadcrumbs that guide the reader along. It’s very methodical in the sense that nothing is by accident and it has you on the edge of your seat.

It’s a long road back to you by @magsthemagical

Michael finds out that Alex is dating Forrest and he’s okay with it, until he’s not. Maria suggests a double date to show they can all hang out as friends. But they can’t… not really. [OR the one where Michael & Alex realize that they belong together and so they say goodbye to their respective relationships and start anew]

Honest truth time - in terms of ‘ships, while I always love people to ship and let ship, my personal preference for both Michael and Alex is one another, so both Maria/Michael and Forrest/Alex aren’t things that I usually seek out when trawling Ao3. This fic is so good to all parties involved. No one is a villain and I appreciate that they get to talk about things like Alex’s reticence to do certain things in public, but also being aware that Alex deserves to have something new as much as Michael.

Last Stop: This Town by @ubiestcaelum

Someone asked what it would have been like if Michael had gone home with the Evan’s and I couldn’t let it go.

Am I cheating because I requested this? idk, maybe, because another one I requested will end up here too. I am addicted to the idea of Michael getting the support system he needs, but THIS FIC takes it to the most impossibly amazing level and fleshes out the Evans parents in such an incredible way. I love that it’s not super sunshine and rainbows, but it’s an honest telling of raising kids (and maybe too many kids versus what you expected). I know this is only in progress (several today will be), but even as it is, it’s worth reading multiple times, because I know I have.

let me count the ways by @queersirius

liz ortecho isn’t allowed to date until her snarky, determined-not-to-date brother, alex ortecho, does. luckily, one of her suitors has a plan. well, max goes to isobel for a plan, which involves getting their brother, michael, to woo alex. or, the 10 things i hate about you AU

Obviously this needs to be here as I desperately pleaded for it to exist, but it’s so beyond what it might be as a mini tumblr ficlet and has become a whole world. It’s not just a great Malex story, it’s an amazing story for all the characters and really fleshes out a world, but weaves in the RNM characters perfectly, but also gives me a dynamic I want more of, in Alex being an Ortecho. It’s not quite finished yet, but Millie has never steered us wrong and I can’t wait for more.

Loathly by @aewriting

When King Manes and his sons are caught illegally hunting on Antarian lands, King Noah gives King Manes a choice - correctly answer a riddle or accept death. A year-long search for the correct answer ensues, leading the youngest son of the king, Alex, to strike a bargain with a mysterious woman who claims to know the answer. This is an AU of the Arthurian legend “Sir Gawain and the Dame Ragnell.”

Love at First Sass - @daffietjuh

Taking a class of 30 high school kids on a school trip to an Air Force base was about as exhausting as it sounds, luckily, the Captain giving them the tour is perfectly capable of handling a group of rowdy teenagers. Michael may be slightly in love Okay, so first of all, if you haven’t read any of the author’s other work, you should. The AUs are fantastic and the hockey one is still one of my favourites ever, but this one also just was exactly what I needed. It was sexy and flirty and fun, but also fit their personalities perfectly!

Everything in the Michael Sanders AU, by prouvaireafterdark which is a fantastic series that gives us what we all wanted, which is Walt Sanders giving Michael the home he deserved (and getting one right back).

My love is a life taker by @jocarthage

By the time he turned 15, Captain Alex Manes had been to every war zone and unofficial conflict the United States of America was involved in. It wasn’t regular practice, or even heard of, for a Colonel to bring his son along on combat missions; the exception was if the child had been identified as Time Aware, able to travel in time along their own timeline using stolen alien technology. So here Alex Manes was, 28, and ducking bombs, killing who he’s told to. On his way back from a mission, Alex slips into another timestream. It should be impossible. But he can hear a child crying and he heads towards the sound. This is the story of how Alex saved Michael and Michael saved Alex, with lots of time travel shenanigans and angst.

This story is incredible for so many reasons and one of them I continue to praise is the balance. It’s an Alex driven story, but you can break his life down into friends, mission, family, and Michael, and often those elements combine, but there’s never any update that doesn’t give you enough (imo). It’s excellent writing with engaging OCs and wonderful plot, and the most incredible love story.

not in this world (or the next) by @hannah-writes

It isn’t until he realises he can’t find the keys for his fucking truck anywhere and that there’s mail on the table addressed to Mr M Evans that Noah called him ‘Evans’, too. He fumbles inside the wallet that he’d managed to locate and pulls out a New Mexico licence with his picture on it; he doesn’t have a black eye and a split lip in this one, his hair’s tamed and he doesn’t look like he’s gone three days without showering. His date of birth is stamped, clear and correct, but then where his name should read ‘Michael Guerin’, it reads “Michael Evans’ and the address registered on the license is that of Max and Isobel’s childhood home. Noah had also said ‘your mom’s’. Not ‘Mrs Evans’. It feels like a bucket of ice water’s dumped over his head as he finally accepts that something is very, very wrong. (aka, the fic spawned from a tumblr prompt about Michael waking up in a parallel reality.)

This one, guys. This is an absolute beast of angst and love and a really well plotted story, but also is really amazing for how it creates Mikey, but also creates motive behind what drives both Michael and Mikey in ways that are the same, but also different. Genuinely, this fic is a great read because you get so much attention to the characters while also driving along the relationships, and who they are. 

nursery sharks by christchex

Six firsts in the Sanders household and a second.

Otherwise Engaged by JustAsSweet

Alex Manes was perfectly happy with his job at Colden Records but when his visa is rejected and deportation looms, marrying his assistant Michael Evans is his only option. And when they make a trip to Alaska to see Michael’s family, everything becomes a lot more complicated.

AKA: The Proposal AU that no one asked for but I wrote anyway.

Shadow Work - @myrmidryad

After his discharge from the Air Force, Alex Manes is working as a shade - a professional ghost hunter - when Michael Guerin tracks him down. Alex left Roswell thirteen years ago and never went back, but overnight Michael’s family has vanished and the supernatural activity in Roswell has exploded, and he wants Alex’s help. Featuring: ghosts, more ghosts, metaphorical ghosts, and a lot of sex without talking about feelings. Also missing family members, government conspiracies, and gratuitous worldbuilding.

No, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND. I can’t rec this enough. Literally, this is a novel-type rec. If this were a book on a shelf, I would be shouting that you need to go read it, because it is literally good enough to be a published work on a best-selling list. It’s so fucking good. Every time you think it can’t get better, it does. It has nuance and plot and world-building and it is So. Fucking. Good. I could sit here and sing praises all day and it still wouldn’t be enough. Please give yourself a holiday treat and read it.

The World Forgetting, By The World Forgot by Anonymous

Michael and Alex erase each other from their memories. It does not go according to plan. [Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Roswell style]

I mean, I could rec anything by Anonymous and it would be worth your read. They’re so good and so in character,  but this one is my favourite. It’s angsty as fuck, don’t get me wrong, but it plays with the movie plot in such a Roswell-specific way that makes sense that I honestly never even compared or contrasted it to the movie past the first few beats. The pain is visceral, and the memory loss segment is incredible, but also delivers on a positive ending. 

To Trust Love by @laughsalot3412 

The prisoner’s voice sounded like home. He could have been raised in Roswell, the way his accent stretched his vowels. He definitely hadn’t been. Alex would have remembered eyes like those. (AU where Alex Manes goes on an undercover rescue mission in Caulfield Prison and forms a bond with one of the prisoners in the process.)

I don’t have enough words in the English language to praise this one. Honestly, I don’t. For one, the pace and the length is perfect. That we got the parts as quickly as we did was honestly such a treat, but then every part was just as high quality as the last. There are chapters in this one that made me go, “holy shit, this would’ve been a novel I read”, and then there are little emotional impacts where the tone shifts, but it works so well. It’s SO HOT, and the AU is so perfect, and also helped inspire the one that I wrote last night with the “genie”. 

Unwind Me - delgay

“Think you can manage that? Sitting next to me, without picking a fight?” Michael challenged. “Can you?” Alex returned. “No idea,” Michael admitted with a sideways grin that never failed to make Alex’s stomach turn over, “But I’m eager to find out.” Alex is avoiding everyone, but he can’t seem to escape Michael.

This whole fic is intensely amazing, but it got on my rec list for the absolutely electric scene with the dancing that was absolutely beyond incredible. You also get Michael courting Alex, which is something he utterly deserves and I love the way Michael goes about it. 

we feel so american by thepredatorywasp

“Papa’s on the spaceship again?” River asks, his bright green eyes welling with tears and his face growing red. “Comin’ back?” “Of course he is,” Alex says, smoothing down the son’s hair and adjusting the Mickey ears atop his head. “Always.” There is no easy way to explain to your three year-old that not only is he an alien, but his Papa is an alien and that apparently, Michael loves leaning hard into irony because he has gone on Space Mountain approximately ten times over the course of four days.

LOOK. I LOVE A SWEET KID FIC. The next rec will prove this, but this one will melt your fucking heart. I love it because it’s not perfect and easy. There’s difficulties, there are issues, but it’s Michael and Alex and their baby boy in Disney and if you do not come away feeling warmer from this, then I just don’t know. 

We’re Waking Up Slow by myrmyriad

“I think need a little time to process all of this. Um. Storm’s getting closer and I don’t really wanna get snowed in here, so…let’s just talk later, okay?” What if the storm that blew in during S01E10 came in a lot faster and heavier, and Alex was snowed in at the junkyard?

Again, fic that makes me wish that I could write as well as this. This one makes you feel it all. You’ll feel the cold, the wet, the storm, the pain, the hope, the healing. You feel the connection between Michael and Alex, and you’ll be left wishing at the end that this had been how canon went, but also that it’s justifiably not that far off from how it could have, had they taken a different tack, because of how well it’s written. 

What’s Up, Pregnant? by Marie_L

Michael Guerin is broke, practically homeless, and a knocked up secret alien. What now?

Speaking of kid fics, this mpreg is one that I really like, because if nothing else, it introduced the concept of mpreg using pods to me in the fandom, and I kind of went, “YES, of course”. I love that it’s got everyone rallying, but I mostly love the psychic connection between Michael and his baby, and the softness of loving sugar and Alex. 

With Love Overflowing by Nestra

"We both agree that this is not the place we belong, right? Please say yes."

Michael tossed his hat on the coffee table and dropped onto the couch. "If you mean that your dad's been dead since CrashCon and some kind of crazy shit is going on, then yeah, I agree."

(This one was for me for Secret Santa, it is just THAT GOOD that I want everyone in the world to read it)

x marks the spot (where we fell apart) by catching_paper_moons, preciousthings

“Don’t write it off,” Alex says, and Liz is so relieved someone is coming to her defense, even if it’s someone who already knew beforehand. “Liz and Kyle have ideas, and there are people in this room with literal superpowers. It’s pretty much our only option.” “Our only option?” Isobel scoffs. “What are we, Ocean’s Eleven?”

[flower-boi16]

I think what's actually alarming about Helluva Boss and Vivziepop is that the shower suffers from heavy creator-fan enmeshment, and the writers/Vivziepop don't see themselves as the problem for it. It's like they see themselves as the victims, too, while encouraging their fandom's toxic mindset and behaviors.

The writers/Vivziepop are not only too entangled with their fans, but they're THINKING like fan artists/fanfic writers instead of actually making a show. There's a difference between writers of a show and fanfic writing. When you take up the mantel to create a show you have to carry yourself in a way and write your show with a point otherwise you end up with shows like Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel, Miraculous Lady Bug, SVFOE, SPOP, and other shows that fall into that category. Some of them focus more on the shipping than the point of their show to begin with.

What makes a good show is having that distinction or maintaining that professionalism. Creators of shows should NEVER let themselves sink into the cesspool of their Fandoms because they should be focused on their story/message instead of all this shipping/woobing bullshit.

TLDR: Helluva Boss never had potential with VivziePop holding the reigns to begin with. It's too disorganized and unfocused, and with the Fan Enmeshment, it was never going to grow or expand from its fanfic-y feeling. If the creator of the show never grew up, we should never expect the show to grow, too.

Though it is a shame since it could have been charming, had someone more professional taken the show.

Viv definitely was never cut out to handle a big project like this. I’ve said this many times before, but ya, Viv writes like a fanfic writer; everything with how messy the structuring of how her shows is and how poorly they are planned makes me think this.

It reminds me of when I tried to make my first fanfic and just went in without a plan with how to structure it which led to me just abandoning it early on. Viv writes like that.

She didn't listen to criticism of her Zoophobia comic and she still isn’t listing here. She shifted the focus of HB away from the premise to shipping nonsense and now we have this weird mess of a show that doesn’t even know what it wants to be anymore.

Season 2 seems to prioritize relationship drama over the actual premise which caused the show’s downfall. Hazbin feels a bit less fan-ficy but it’s still very messy.

Viv just crams too much shit into too little time which results in the pacing being awful. She paces her shows like a fan fic writer. It feels like she only came In with a small understanding of how show running works and jumped right into the industry because she was excited to show off her gizzalion OCs she had since high school.

Everything about HH/HB feels amateur. I really think that before you get into storytelling you need to actually study how to create good stories, like there are YouTube videos out there you could watch for free that give a run down of what is good or bad writing.

You don’t need to spend 20+ in school to be a good writer but you need to have a basic understanding of how to even write your ideas before you start making stories…which Viv clearly does not.

HB Season 2 in general doesn’t feel like a natural continuation of the first season. It feels like a fan-fic written by a fan after season 1 ended posted on wattpad that the show runners decided to animate and voice into a full season.

Viv should have learned how to run a show before jumping into something as ambitious as this, but she didn’t, and look at what we got.

[umuulandito]

burnout (teaser) | jeon wonwoo

SYPNOSIS. 11 years. you’ve been loving wonwoo for 11 years. you’ve loved and supported him since you were 16. and you’re starting to wonder if you can keep living like this. PAIRING. idol!jeon wonwoo x writer!reader GENRE. angst, it’s mostly just angst. NOTES. english isn’t my first language !! para sa mga filipino, inspired by "i'm drunk, i love you" and sugarfree's "burnout". reader has done like 3 different jobs + went to college. multilingual!reader, writer!reader. WORD COUNT. (estimated) 13k DAY OF RELEASE. (estimated) august / september

“In two days, your new drama comes out. This is the… what is it?”

“12th.”

“12th drama you’ve written that’s somehow about Wonwoo.”

“And?”

“So, when will you finally confess to him?”

It’s not the first time someone’s asked you that– or specifically, not the first time Jihoon has asked you that. He’s been asking you that for years now. You can only look into your glass, staring into the abyss of soju and beer because you don’t have an answer. 

You’ve never had an answer to it.

“I don’t know. Never? I’ll get over it eventually, probably,” you say. His eyebrows raise and he can only scoff and snaps his fingers in front of you, drawing attention to his face. “Eleven years,” Jihoon remarks. “You’ve never gotten tired of whatever–” his hands point vaguely at you, “this is.”

He gives you a once over and, you don’t have it in you to be offended when he says, “And you look like you don’t plan to stop. You have had every–”

“Not every.”

“Yes, every, chance to confess but it just seems like you keep delaying it.”

Jihoon gives you that look, the look that says ‘Well?’ and you can’t say anything (again). When he lifts his cup up to drink, he looks at you expectantly, eyebrows raised and ready for your response. But it’s just silent.

“Am I wrong?” He asks.

“You’re crazy,” you say rolling your eyes and taking a sip of your own glass. 

“See! That’s not a no,” Jihoon laughs. “Well… it just seems kind of a waste,” you laugh tracing the rim of the glass. “We’re good friends… Ha! We’re good friends.”

“But?”

“But…” You sigh, “But he doesn’t love me back.”

When you look at Jihoon, he’s smug. His face says smug but his eyes say pity, they always have. Every time you have this conversation, he always reminds you of this, and well, who doesn’t like to be right? But you can always tell he pities you. 

“Timecheck!” Jihoon shouts, you flinch at the sound, what the fuck was that?

“It’s been 11 years, somehow your hopes are still up and nonexistent at the same time,” he says and you roll your eyes, snarky… as always. 

You tap your wrist with a scoff, “I know it’s been 11 years. I can read the time, Jihoon.”

He sighs again, “But that’s why it’s so… I don’t think you realize really how long you’ve been hoping.”

That kind of stops you because fuck, he has a point. 11 years… That’s a decade, probably 1/7th of your life– you spent your youth loving Wonwoo, your college years still loving him, and your adulthood continuing to love him. When you think about it, so much of a person can change in 11 years, no one is the same person they were 11 years ago. He’s changed so much over 11 years, you’ve changed so much.

And yet here you were, still loving him. Loving every version, every iteration.

It’s kind of crazy.

Confronted with the reality in your hands. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

You’re confronted with this insane reality and all you can say is…

“Give me time.”

When you meet eyes with Jihoon, he’s looking at you like you just said you plan on quitting writing forever. His eyebrows are raised, eyes wide as saucers, staring at you in absolute shock at your audacity.

“GIVE ME TIME?!”

There we go. You close your eyes letting yourself sit and just absorb the lecture he’s about to give you.

“What type of nonsense is ‘give me time’?!” Jihoon asks. “You believe in the cosmic powers or whatever of the universe–”

You mumble, “It’s called fate–”

“Fine! Fate. God, I feel like I say this every time. You believe in the cosmic supernatural possibilities of whatever fate and the universe have given you E L E V E N years! The universe gave you all the time you could need and yet, here you are!”

You let out a small huff, fiddling with the handle of your glass. Yet here you are. 

“I don't know why,” you take a small sip again of your drink, “like, I even made like… 12 dramas about him!” Then you take a larger gulp, “Why are they all about him?!”

Jihoon can only shrug, “Maybe you’re a masochist.”

He was expecting you to deny that actually, you can get so defensive about this sometimes but you’re actually thinking about it. Your eyebrows are scrunched up in concentration as you revisit every drama you’ve made in the past 5 years. 

When you look back at him, your brows are still furrowed and you say “You know, I might be. Like, what sane normal person writes Twenty-Five Twenty-One?”

“Or Hotel del Luna. Even worse, that was your debut. So from the start, it’s really all been him.”

It’s always been him. “Everything’s always about him, like, my youth revolved around him and whatever he revolved around.”

“Because he was Seventeen, your youth was Seventeen.”

“My youth was Seventeen… Do you think he knows that like for four years straight he was singing songs about himself?”

That one brings a laugh out of Jihoon, your former partner in crime in writing. One of the only people to witness every step of your writing, which involved staring a lot at Wonwoo. “I don’t think he knows, you’re surprisingly not obvious.”

“Everything’s about him… God, maybe I AM a masochist.”

“Okay, let’s just put it this way, let’s do this differently. Let’s enumerate what your and him’s relationship was for those 11 years, each of those 11 years.”

You can only sigh, as if you haven’t done that several times this night, again when he raises his glass triumphantly. “When did you and Wonwoo first meet?”

“You ask this question but I’m sure you know the answer.”

“Should that stop me from asking? It’s about consistency.”

“Fine. Let’s start from the beginning.”

[sinfulseashell]

Question for Y!Bonten how could they react if their darling escaped from them and started a new life with someone else?

Y!Mikey: Of course the male would absolutely go berserk if his darling was ever to think that anyone else would treat them better than he could, but fear nearly consumed him as he thought for a moment looking over at the host with an icy glare. “Escaping is one thing, but having the audacity to find someone else? Well…let’s just say there would be two less bastards on this god forsaken earth.”

Y!Sanzu: “Oh wow, well I guess one idiot plus another can make a deathly combination!” He cackled. “How fucking dumb could they be to find someone else, but let’s give the benefit of the doubt that my darling had the gall to have another person even touch them the way I do.” His snarl twisted into a demonic grin, “I will show my darling why they would regret stepping foot out of their haven…let’s just say the show would be more gruesome than any horror movie could ever show legally.”

Y!Bonten: Each male expressed a disgusted feature as they shook their heads in unison.

Y!Koko: “So we all agree that Sanzu is never allowed to come these interviews when it comes to murder.”

Host: “Wait…none of you said anything…also…all of you commit murder?”

Y!Rin: “Ok one, we don’t need words to communicate, I know you noticed the silence after his comment. Two, we commit murder because it’s necessary yet this sociopath commits murder as a fucking hobby.”

Y!Sanzu: He emits a boisterous laugh while wiping tears from his eyes, “Ah…it’s true. I have a scrapbook as well.” He smiles happily.

Y!Rin: “Do I need to say anything more?”

Host: “Oooookay…noted.”

Y!Takeomi: “Well that was unsettling…anyways. I wouldn’t say that I would be happy my darling started their life over.” He gritted his teeth at the thought that his darling could find someone else so damn easily…replacing him. The thought made his stomach churn, “As if replacing me would be the best option for them…I would murder anyone who would try to take them away from me.” He growled.

Y!Ran: “Well the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. Looks like you and Sanzu have so much in common, makes sense why the two of you are related.”

Y!Sanzu: “How dare you say something so fucking disgusting in my presence! No fucking brother of mine, as far as I know I don’t have family.” He hissed.

Y!Takeomi & Host: 😐

Y!Koko: “We’re not here to discuss their family drama, wait…hatred? Disgust? Whatever. We are not here to speak on that. Now as for me, the fact my darling would even think that someone could afford the lifestyle I provide well,” He chuckles while shaking his head, small chuckling turns to laughter. “Ah…ah ok, ok,” Koko clears his throat to continue. “Besides my awesome joke, I doubt that my darling would even survive without me.”

Y!Rin: “Look Im tired. So I’ll make this quick…whoever the dumbass would be I’ll make sure that have a slow painful death while I take my darling back to have the punishment they deserve.” Bringing himself to stand the male makes his way to the door and leaves.

Y!Ran: “Dont mind him, Rin is just tired from taking care of his darling all night. They were sick.” Ran pouts. “Isn’t that so cute though!”

Y!Rin: “SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!” He screams from the other side of the door.

Y!Ran: The male smiles as he turns his attention back to the host, “What would I do if my darling escaped and found someone else? Hmmm, well murder would be first on my list and once I get rid of them then I would make sure my darling was well.” He hums happily, “-but once I know they are fine then I’ll remind them of why they belong to me.” He smirked menacingly.

Y!Mochi: “I dont believe my darling would have a reason to leave. No to toot my own horn or anything, but these guys are monsters compared to me.” He huffed.

Y!Sanzu: “Quit bitching and answer the goddamn question.”

Y!Mochi: “Fine. If my darling were to ever find someone else…even though I know they wouldn’t. I wouldn’t murder the person, but I would purposely break each and every bone in their body enough to keep them conscious throughout the entire time that way their screams of agony could echo off the walls having their cries be the last thing they hear.”

Y!Koko: “Dear god. We all need therapy.” He spoke while pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

Y!Kakucho: His gaze stays focused on the floor before him as if lost in thought when he hears the host call his name it brings him back to reality as he sighs, “I wouldn’t kill them. Or hurt the person that they are with. I want my darling to be happy then I would want them to stay happy, but…a part of me would take them back with me…I can’t…I just can’t be without them…they mean everything to me…” he sighs in frustration. “If I take my darling back and the other person tries to stop me…well then I would have no choice but to kill them.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Song prompt for Manny Perez

But honey if I had to choose

Oh I'd rather ride around with you

Tagging: @burningpeachpuppy @acesgunner95 @caffeinatedwoman @unknown6669991

You disappear into the background when Manny’s ex-wife Bobbi comes to town. You think he doesn’t notice but he does, he’s just too busy putting out the fires she’s lighting up in Gabriella’s life to be able to deal with it.

It’s almost a week later that he realises he hasn’t heard from you. No calls, no texts, no sleep overs. Bobbi has a way of doing that, taking over his life, drowning out everything else with her chaos. He’s barely had more than a couple of minutes to himself between his shifts with Three Rock and running interference between her and Gabby.

It’s five in the morning when he forces himself out of bed and drags himself down to the beach. It’s the only place he can guarantee you’ll be and the truth is he wants a little one on one time.

You’re already in water by the time he gets there, bobbing by a little way from the shore, your gaze fixed on the horizon as the sun rises. He considers joining you but this is where you get your peace, where you come to take a breath and he doesn’t want to interrupt that moment.

When you step out the water he can’t help but smile. You’ve never been shy about your body and that’s one of the things he loves about you, your confidence, your unflinching ability to know who you are, to never doubt it.

He hands you the towel before you wrap it around yourself and drop down into the sand alongside of him. You nudge his shoulder lightly and he nudges you back.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around.” He finds himself telling you. “My ex-wife… She’s a lot.”

“Oh I know.” You tell him, taking a sip from your water bottle. “I thought I’d give you a little breathing room with everything that was going on between her and Gabby.”  

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t care about you.” Manny tells you as his hand comes to rest upon yours on the sand. “That she comes back into my life and I forget about you.”

“I don’t think that.” You tell him as your fingers entwine with his. “I think that dealing with Roberta takes a lot of time and a lot of energy and that requires mental space so you don’t lose your shit and murder her.”

You’re not wrong, handling Bobbi was a full time occupation when they were married. She thrived on drama, on wreaking havoc on his life. Being with you is a breath of fresh air because he can relax, he’s never waiting for the next bomb to drop.

“You know anyone else would be pissed off but you…” He trails off because he just can’t find the words.

“Did you think I’d be spoiling for a fight?” You ask, tilting your head towards him.“This isn’t about me, it’s about you and Gabby trying to survive Hurricane Roberta, I’m just trying to stay out of the way so you don’t feel like you have to deal with another casualty.”

“She’s already tried to scare you away hasn’t she?” He says studying the expression on your features.

“She’s a bitter woman.” You remark, your fingertips tracing over the stubble of his jaw. “But then again, I would be too if I had run you out of my life.”

“That’s something you could never do.” He tells you, his lips brushing over your pulse point. “Whatever happens between the two of us, I’ll always be in your life. As your friend, your lover…”

“I definitely prefer lover.” You assure him and a blush creeps across his cheeks because the way you’re looking at him reminds him you aren’t wearing a single scrap of clothing underneath that towel.

“Good because I can’t imagine how hard it would be trying to be your friend knowing what’s under here.” He murmurs, his fingertips trailing along the hem of the towel.

“I can’t imagine how hard you might be under those jeans.” You tease as the towel loosens and slips from your body.

“Did I mention how much I’ve missed you over the past week?” Manny murmurs as his body covers yours, guiding you back onto the sand.

“No.” You smile, reaching down between the two of you to unzip his fly. “But maybe you can show me.”

Love Manny? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[livi-in-digital-circus]

Here are some songs that I think would match Ragatha/Miss Agatha and Jax/Jackson in your AU!!!

Ragatha/Miss Agatha:

- the grudge by Olivia Rodrigo would work with her and her terrible fiancé, especially after what he did to her baby. I think it could also work with her and Jax after she slapped him.

- Diet Mountain Dew by Lana Del Rey would work both Ragatha and Jax. It fits their will-they-won’t-they narrative.

- Bigger Than The Whole Sky by Taylor Swift. This song reminds me a lot of Agatha’s miscarriage and the horrible feelings that came with it. It’s the moment where everything in her world fell apart.

- Lose You To Love Me and Single Soon by Selena Gomez. The first one would work with Ragatha’s regrets over her past relationship with her ex, while the second one highlights a happier ending for her. It’s her new start with Jax, specifically her getting ready for the dance with him!

Jax/Jackson:

- Dancing With Our Hands Tied by Taylor Swift. I feel like this matches the dance scene, before everything fell apart of course.

- teenage dream by Olivia Rodrigo. This song would probably reflect the aftermath of Agatha’s coma and all the pain Jackson went through after finding out. Although this isn’t canon to the story, I feel like this would fit his 18th birthday party without her.

- Love You Down by Ready For The World. This song would resonate a lot with Jackson’s one-sided crush on his brother’s teacher and the dreams he had about her.

- Colors by Halsey would definitely work with Jax’s dreams about his past. It summarizes all the people and all the feelings he ignores to avoid feeling anything.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy these choices :D. Your AU has been one of my favorite TADC AUs I ever read. The amount of emotion, drama, and romance was captured perfectly without feeling OOC. Keep up the great work Livi!

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO SO MUCH 💕

I don't know why I didn't think of adding more Taylor and Olivia songs to my playlist, but I actually had those two Selena songs somewhere in the back of my head while making it!

I'll listen to all the songs when I get home from school in 10+ hours (it's past 1 AM here lol)

I would also like to take this opportunity to explain some of the Korean songs on the playlist:

Prologue by aespa is about feeling immature and not ready for adulthood, to me it fits Agatha perfectly because even though she has been an adult for some time, she still has the heart of a teenager and has trouble dealing with some adult issues

Checkmate by Xdinary Heroes is about feeling confident because of a won game, I relate this song to the moment when Jax's attack on Ragatha during their stage play was successful

The Ugly Duckling by YENA, well I interpreted the song's lyrics much differently than it should be interpreted, I relate it to Agatha's miscarriage due to the lyrics being about trying to move on after a horrible event and there is also a child mentioned so-

War of Hormone by BTS is a very controversial song which that has been accused of considering girls playthings for boys, basically Jax's attitude towards Ragatha before she almost abstracted

Doll by (G)I-DLE, the title says it all, it perfectly describes how Ragatha was treated by Jax and how she's fed up with it

Quarter Life by TOMORROW X TOGETHER is another song about finding adult life kind of hard and trying to go on despite you already screwed up a lot of things, every time I hear this song I think of Jax and how he feels after remembering his former life

Lonely Boy by TOMORROW X TOGETHER is a breakup song that in my opinion fits how Jackson felt after losing Agatha

Happily Ever After by TOMORROW X TOGETHER (yeah, it's my fav boysband lol) is the song I had in mind while writing the last chapter, even though it's upbeat it tells about how cruel life is and that there's actually no happy end, just like in the story :D

And thank you for enjoying my AU! At first I thought it would fail as it has no drawings (I'm really terrible at drawing + I can't do digital art) and focuses more on writing, but the amount of support and love my work has received in these few months makes me incredibly happy 🥺

[sweetkpopmusings]

long for you (act three) | h. hyunjin <3

a/n: and just like that, i present to you the last installment of long for you ! i hope you enjoy the ending (i promise it's a happy one) <3 thank you so much for reading this fic :,-) pics not mine <3

♡ find all parts here ♡

content: fluff, romance, fake dating, angst, a happy ending | wc: 4.2k | warnings: none really! | pairing: nonbinary!painter!hyunjin x gn!writer!reader | requests: open

synopsis: y/n is a writer with a long-awaited, well-deserved career opportunity. despite the excitement, there’s one major problem: the publisher expects a modern love story, equally romcom-like and authentic, but y/n lacks the inspiration to write something worth reading. through a chance meeting with mutual friends, y/n and hyunjin bond over upcoming deadlines and creative blocks. before the conversation ends, they discover that the ridiculous plot of fake dating might just work to solve their inspirational dry spell.

act three: here, with you

jeongin, running back and forth from one corner of the exhibition to another, barely registers the door opening. it isn’t until he hears seungmin’s classic, hey! yang jeongin! that he breaks away from the artwork surrounding him.

“care to tell me why you’re interrupting my very important work?”

seungmin shrugs, “you have five days until opening night. there’s plenty of time. besides,” seungmin flashes his friend a golden retriever grin, “you can always make time for your favorite person in the world!”

“i…i don’t even know where to begin with unpacking that.”

“then don’t,” seungmin sets his bag down on a table near the entrance, pulls out a large stack of papers, and strides towards jeongin, “i wanted to lend you this.”

jeongin’s brow furrows, trying to make sense of whatever seungmin dropped on the worktable in front of him, “what’s here, with you and what does it have to do with me?”

“it has nothing to do with you,” seungmin laughs, “but when i was reading through it, it reminded me of your friend hyunjin and their relationship drama, which, given how much you’ve told me, i’m quite invested in.”

the gears turn in jeongin’s head as he thumbs through the manuscript in front of him. seungmin waits somewhat patiently, reminding himself that jeongin’s brain is probably too preoccupied with the art show logistics to make the connection in a timely manner.

“how would this even…oh wait, is y/n your new writer?!” 

though jeongin’s jaw has dropped from shock, seungmin calmly nods, “yeah, and this is probably illegal, so only share it with hyunjin. i don’t care too much about them reading it because i think they could…benefit from the novel’s perspective. plus, i want to know the resultant ‘tea,’ as it were.”

“how is it that none of my friends can use slang without sounding like the elderly?” jeongin sighs, putting his hand on the title page, “but understood. i’ll guard it with my life and tell hyunjin that their access must remain top-secret. do you want us to shred it after he’s finished reading it?”

seungmin shoots jeongin a why is that the first thing you thought of? look and replies, “just text me and i’ll come pick it up.”

“oh, yeah, that makes sense. well, thanks!”

“yeah, yeah,” seungmin goes to collect his bag at the front, “be sure to let me know what happens after. i’ll see you later!”

jeongin waves to his friend and pulls out his phone to text hyunjin. typically he doesn’t like to meddle in his friends’ business, but he can’t deny the excitement bubbling inside him at the thought of this book changing the course of hyunjin’s relationship with you. not to mention the bragging rights he’d have if he played a part in you two getting back together.

jeongin returns his focus to the gallery setup, keeping an ear out for the door this time, so as not to miss hyunjin’s fateful arrival.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

every time hyunjin comes back to their apartment, his eyes land on the manuscript, which sits unassumingly on the coffee table. given that meticulously selected art books are displayed on the coffee table, if one wasn’t looking for the manuscript specifically, it would remain unnoticed, merely an afterthought. 

hyunjin is always looking for the manuscript, though. try as they might to ignore it, they unconsciously glance at it every time it’s near, ensuring that it hasn’t been lost. ensuring that it’s still there, waiting for him. 

jeongin wouldn’t have passed it along if it were going to hurt him, right? hyunjin can’t think of any real reason not to read it. they don’t care about any publishing rules, and they’re not worried about jeongin telling anyone else about it. and yet, hyunjin can’t get past the title page. they long to know what truths are hidden in that stack of pages, but they fear that they’ll be hanging on to every word, unable to return to a world that isn’t filled with you. then, thoughts of his mistake swarm his mind, leaving hyunjin spiraling into regret, self-criticism, and anxiety. who knew it would be so difficult to read a book written by someone you admire?

hyunjin counts down the days to the exhibition’s opening night. they haven’t asked whether you’ll be there. jeongin could know from the rsvp list, or changbin could know through felix. he wonders if you’ll show up. he understands why you wouldn’t; hyunjin of all people could understand why you wouldn’t want to be there at all, especially on opening night. sure, they would be heartbroken–even more than they already are–if they didn’t see your face in the crowd. again, though, they can’t blame you for your absence, if that’s what you choose. plain and simple, hyunjin just misses you. they’re not sure if they have the right to reach back out to you, but he plays out scenarios in his head of what could happen at the gallery, if only you walked through the door.

“hyunjin!” changbin chirps on the phone as soon as hyunjin accepts the call, “are you excited for tomorrow?”

hyunjin smiles, “yeah, it’ll be great.”

“great doesn’t even begin to describe it! it’s only an exhibition featuring work by the most talented, most gorgeous artist in the city!”

they laugh at changbin’s enthusiasm, a slight pang in their chest emerging when they think of how you’d roll your eyes at his friend’s endless flirting, “as always, thank you for your undying support.”

“of course! now, i actually wasn’t just calling because i missed your voice. we–me, jeongin, and minho–were thinking it’d be fun to go out for a late dinner after the grand opening. you in?”

“i don’t know…” hyunjin sighs, “i’m not sure if i’ll feel up to it afterward.”

“no worries!” changbin’s smile is audible, “you can let us know tomorrow night what you feel up to. we can always celebrate you on a different day!”

“sounds great, thank you,” hyunjin replies with as much excitement as they can muster.

“well my dear, sweet, beautiful, charming, brilliant artist friend, i should let you go. i’m sure you’ve got a whole lot of prep left, and you need to get your beauty sleep! i’ll see you tomorrow night?”

“you can count on it. thanks changbin.”

“any time. i love you!”

hyunjin laughs at changbin’s extra sweet tone for i love you and his subsequent giggles, “love you too.”

changbin squeals, which prompts hyunjin to hang up before their eardrums are irrevocably damaged. 

after the phone call, hyunjin wanders around their apartment, jumping from task to task in order to take their mind off the next night’s possibilities. soon, but not soon enough, it is a reasonable time for them to go to bed. he finishes his nighttime routine, hoping slumber will come as soon as he is under the covers. unfortunately, as luck would have it, the hours pass while hyunjin lies awake, thinking of you.

they groan and climb out of bed, walking to the kitchen to make some tea. once again, even in the dark, their eyes find the manuscript. this time, however, they think if i can’t get them out of my head, i might as well read it, regardless of how much more i’ll miss them after.

with a sigh, hyunjin sinks into their couch and pulls the manuscript into their lap. they stare at the title page, saddened by the fact your name isn’t beneath the title. when they get the courage to read the first line, they smile. your voice comes through with each word, and it’s as though you’re having a conversation in his living room. hyunjin finds comfort in this, even if you’re not here with him.

after a couple of chapters, it’s apparent why jeongin gave hyunjin the manuscript. while the characters don’t follow the exact same plot as you two, their dynamic is all too familiar. the story grips hyunjin, and he craves everything it has to offer, soaking up every detail as though their life depends on it. 

much to hyunjin’s surprise, dawn is breaking when they start the last chapter. perhaps it’d be more responsible to sleep, but hyunjin can’t fathom putting your book down. if he gets the chance to look you in the eyes again, he thinks it’s only fair to do so when he can confidently express how beautiful your story is. so they charge on, desperate to know what the end is for these lovers.

as soon as hyunjin flips the last page over, they sit back into the couch cushions and take a deep breath. hyunjin smiles, proudly thinking i can’t believe they managed to make something so perfect out of something so…human. a yawn cuts the early morning stillness, so hyunjin returns his empty mug to the kitchen and shuffles into bed. spending the night with your voice, your written presence, relieves his body of all the stress it was carrying. the second his eyelids flutter shut, he slips into a peaceful slumber.

the peace is broken hours later when his alarm chimes, more aggressively than they would prefer. hyunjin checks the time, bolting out of bed when they realize they have slept through at least 30 minutes of snoozed alarms. 

frantically, they text jeongin about their potential delayed arrival, stumbling their way to the closet. hyunjin has never been more relieved by the fact that he picked out his outfit the day before.

by some miracle, hyunjin is dressed and made up with two minutes to spare. they rush to the front door, struggling to put their boots on while they simultaneously gather everything into their bag.

“oh, wait!” they exclaim to the empty apartment, kicking off their shoes.

hyunjin runs to the coffee table, flips to a page in the manuscript, snaps a picture, and hurries back toward the apartment’s entryway. in a flash, they are out the door, confident they now have everything they need to get through whatever tonight has in store.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

felix grins as he hands you a drink, “here you go!”

“thank you!” you grin back, unable to resist his cheeriness and the joy of free refreshments.

“can you believe how many people there are here?”

you follow felix’s gaze as it rakes over the crowd. you know jeongin’s gallery isn’t small by any means, but you’re still surprised this many people can fit here without breaking any fire codes. 

“i guess i can. hyunjin’s pretty well-known.”

he nods, not unaware of the way your smile falters when you say their name. 

felix lets a few beats pass, so as not to make his conversational distraction too obvious, “so, you were telling me about how you ran into chan the other day?”

“yeah,” your smile returns, “he was in town interviewing for a new job. i called him afterward, and it looks like he’s getting the offer. if it comes through, he’ll be moving here.”

“wow! that’s a bit of a plot twist,” felix chuckles, “how do you feel about him moving back here?”

“good. it’d be nice to reconnect with him after being apart for so long. while we had our obvious reasons for keeping a distance, both of us admitted that we missed being in each other’s lives. chan even said,” you bite your lip, preparing yourself for felix’s reaction, “he wants to give us another chance if he moves here.”

your friend’s jaw drops, and you can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips when you see how wide his eyes have gotten. 

“whoa! now that’s a plot twist!”

you laugh again, and felix continues, “do you want to get back together with him?”

you take a sip of your drink, pausing to find the right words, “i’ve been thinking about it a lot since he brought it up. nothing’s certain yet because he doesn’t know whether he’ll be moving here anyway. but i can’t deny that the prospect of being with chan again is appealing. i’ll always love him, and we’ve grown up now, so things could be different. of course, i realize that it’s not enough to build a relationship solely on good memories and lost potential. i guess what i’m trying to say is that–”

“hi everyone!” jeongin lightly shouts to get the attention of the crowd, “thank you all so much for coming here tonight. i always appreciate people taking the time, though i’m sure you’re here for the free food as much as you’re here for the art.”

the crowd laughs, and felix leans over to you, “tell me the rest of the chan stuff later?”

“you know it,” you whisper back, quick to turn your attention back to where jeongin stands.

“it is no secret that tonight’s artist is a friend of mine. i’ve been championing their work for years, but i have to say this collection is one of their best. while the paintings speak for themselves, please welcome hwang hyunjin for a few words on their newest series, long for you!”

you clap with the rest of the gallery visitors, trying to ignore the shaking in your hands. the nerves aren’t surprising, but they still overwhelm you. your heart pounds, unsure where he’ll appear from. it must’ve only been five seconds, but it feels as though an eternity has passed between jeongin saying his name and hyunjin stepping in front of the crowd, beautiful as ever.

you shuffle slightly behind felix, hoping this will decrease the possibility of you and hyunjin making eye contact. thankfully, it works, as hyunjin begins their speech without any sign he has noticed your presence. the second their voice spreads throughout the silent gallery, you are mesmerized, praying your face won’t give you and your lingering feelings away.

“thank you, jeongin, for the introduction and the opportunity to showcase my work,” hyunjin nods toward their friend, “this series is very special to me for a couple of reasons. when jeongin asked me to create work inspired by ‘yearning,’ i was completely at a loss. i don’t think i’ve ever experienced such a lack of inspiration before. it felt impossible, like i was staring down the first failure in my artistic career. i actually was about to back out of the agreement, but, by a stroke of luck, maybe even fate, i met someone that changed everything.”

breath hitching in your throat, you grasp onto your drink with both of your trembling hands. felix glances at you, and you nod, signaling that you’re okay. for now, at least.

“they taught me so much about art and about love,” hyunjin pauses, searching the crowd until, much to their surprise and relief, their eyes land on you, “and, after making a foolish and immature mistake, their absence taught me hard lessons about yearning. these pieces are as much about the desire you feel towards someone special as they are about the ache you feel when that person is gone. i cherish each painting because i cherish the subject, the person portrayed here, the most. in making this series, i realized that yearning is quite a selfish thing when you’re the one that created the distance in the first place. believe me when i say that i have never yearned more, nor felt more sorry, in my life.”

hyunjin’s words hang in the air, and, try as you might to keep your composure, you cannot tear your eyes from theirs. though they are across the room, the way his eyes are locked with yours yields the kind of intimacy you feel only when you are inches away from your lover. heart pounding, throat closing, eyes glistening, you hold hyunjin’s gaze because you don’t know what else to do. then, just as you feel you are being completely unraveled, they look away from you and toward the rest of the crowd.

“thank you all for bearing witness to this part of my heart. before i send you on your way to examine my latest creations, i would like to leave you with a quote from my favorite writer,” hyunjin inhales slowly, deliberately forming each word with the utmost care, “in an upcoming work, they write, ‘after all that had happened to us, and in spite of whatever would come, the center of everything was this: i have longed for you since the moment i met you; therefore, i will always love you,’” hyunjin pauses again to ensure the crowd absorbs every precious word, “i hope you all find the one you long for most, and i hope you never let them go. thank you.”

with a small bow, hyunjin ends their speech and steps away from the center of the room to the sound of applause. 

“whoa, that last part sounded like something you would write. that’s crazy!” felix faces you, shocked smile faltering when he sees your frozen state.

“yeah…” you attempt to smile when you nod in agreement, “actually, i wrote that.”

felix’s jaw drops, “oh, wow. wow. that was beautiful! you really are a force to be reckoned with. those words cut straight to the heart, y/n.”

“thank you,” your voice comes out barely as a whisper, “i’m going to get some fresh air.”

understanding your body language, felix asks, “do you want some company?”

“no, it’s okay. i’ll be right back. you stay and enjoy the art!”

felix smiles at you reassuringly, promising to be right where you left him whenever you return. much to your chagrin, in your efforts to sneak out of the gallery, you pass by hyunjin talking with a group of people. you desperately hope that he did not see you as you push through the gallery doors and step out into the fresh night.

before you can take enough deep breaths to untangle your twisted stomach, you hear footsteps behind you.

“are you okay?”

hyunjin’s voice floats through the air and envelops you. despite the anxiety and exhilaration coursing through your body at their proximity, the sound of hyunjin’s voice still manages to relax you. 

“yeah, i’m fine,” you lie, “don’t worry about me. it looked like you were in the middle of an important conversation, so you should go back before they miss you.”

hyunjin shrugs, stepping closer to you, “they’re not the ones i care about.”

“oh, i see.”

you wish you could kick yourself for such a lackluster reply, but you settle for looking away from hyunjin. there are few cars on the street, making it difficult for you to pretend you’re paying attention to anything other than the person beside you.

“i’m really sorry if it was inappropriate for me to quote you at the end of my speech without giving you credit. i was able to read your manuscript–i swear i got it through official channels–and it was so captivating and touching that i thought i could pay homage to you by mentioning it. i wasn’t thinking about the implications though, so i’m sorry.”

against your better judgment, you glance at them and smile softly, reassuringly, “no, it’s fine. i mean, it probably is a violation of confidentiality, but that’s not…i’m not upset because of that.”

“oh, so it’s the other selfish thing i did then? i do owe you an apology for that. a real one, not just one i say in a room full of other people.”

you chuckle at their delivery, unable to resist their charm. thankfully, they don’t leave you with the responsibility of responding.

“from the bottom of my heart and with everything i have, i am so sorry. i was an idiot. i…i got scared because i wanted our fake dating to turn into real dating. i didn’t know what i was doing, so i ran away. i ended our relationship because i couldn’t, wouldn’t find the courage to ask you for what i truly wanted. i hurt you, and that’s the worst thing i could have done. i’m sorry,” they pause, hoping their rambling doesn’t dilute their message, “and i don’t expect you to forgive me. i just…i owe it to you to be honest. you deserved better than what i did.”

hyunjin stares at you, kind smile coupled with a serious, tender look in their eyes. you’re stunned at how genuine their apology is, how generous they are with their true feelings. for the first time in weeks, your heart doesn’t feel so heavy.

“you ended things because you wanted…more?”

though your voice is soft, hyunjin hears you with complete clarity, “yes. in truth, i fell for you, y/n,” hyunjin chuckles, “i guess i took the fake dating trope and turned it into a fake dating to lovers storyline.”

you grin, “i can’t say i’m surprised that you’d commit that much to the bit. you’ve certainly got the romantic tendencies of an artist.”

you join their laughter this time, waves of relief washing over you. even after everything, the cold night transforms into something much more comforting when hyunjin is here with you.

“though i don’t deserve it, i would like to be with you. i want to be your partner again, but a real one, if you’d let me.”

“hyunjin…” you face them fully, absorbing the tenderness of the moment, feeling your stomach fill with butterflies and your heart fill with longing.

all the questions, uncertainties, and anxieties that have filled your days since hyunjin walked out of that restaurant come back to you. at the same time, all the hopes you had when you were getting to know hyunjin hit you full force. though you were working to be okay with a future that didn’t include hyunjin, you can’t deny that there remains a part of you that wants everything you had with them. those two months filled with hyunjin felt so right. it wasn’t just the fact that they inspired you and played an instrumental role in the completion of your first novel. no, it was just as jisung had pointed out: hyunjin changed your outlook on love, for the better, by being the kind of person you could love and be loved by. 

“it’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” hyunjin smiles, “you deserve to know that someone out there feels this way about you. you deserve to know that you touched me profoundly, and i’m forever changed for the better because i met you.”

tears prick the corners of your eyes, feeling pure happiness for the first time in weeks, “i feel the same. i…” 

you sigh, at a loss for the right words that could capture everything you’re thinking. they don’t pressure you into responding quickly, but, not wanting to leave them in suspense, you settle for the simplest expression of your heart.

“i want to be with you too, hyunjin. if you’d let me, of course.”

you swear you’ve never seen someone smile so brightly before. instinctively, you reflect their joy, savoring the moment that rewrote your story from one of heartbreak to one of hope. this, you think, is the kind of thing you wouldn’t have thought was realistic before you met hyunjin.

“you know, i was almost late for the show tonight,” hyunjin chuckles, a little sheepishly, “i overslept and had to rush out of my apartment to get here in time. normally i would never dream of getting ready so quickly, but i managed to make it here with a few minutes to spare. even jeongin was surprised.”

hyunjin laughs, and you tease, “i’m surprised too. it’s pretty out of character for you to rush to do anything,” you giggle at hyunjin’s pout, “what was so different this time?”

though your tone was playful, hyunjin looks at you sweetly and replies in a voice full of sincerity.

“i guess,” they reach out and intertwine your hands, “deep down i knew i was rushing my way back to you.”

oh.

you smile down at your hands, flushing pink from the warmth of hyunjin’s touch. you feel their eyes on you, but you take your time before meeting their gaze again, wanting to convince yourself that this moment is, in fact, real.

“i guess i need to call chan and tell him that i just want to be friends.”

“wait!” hyunjin frowns, “who’s chan?”

you laugh at their childish expression, endeared as always by his flair for the dramatic, “don’t worry. changbin flirts with you waaaaaay more than chan ever would with me.”

hyunjin cackles at this, jealousy subsiding into pure joy at the fact that you’re choosing him over someone, anyone else. they too have to convince themself that this dream has really come true.

hyunjin points their head toward the door, “shall we go back inside?”

you nod, “i’m sure people are wondering where the guest of honor is hiding.”

hyunjin laughs, leading you back towards the gallery full of art enthusiasts and paintings apparently inspired by you, “i think it’s time i introduce everybody to my muse.”

you smile, falling into step beside hyunjin without a second thought. as you two leave the cold night and weeks of longing for one another behind you, you think that maybe, just maybe, it’s not only fictional lovers that get the happy endings they deserve. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

tag list: @velvetmoonlght @tirena1 (<333 tysm)

[theriu]

What advice do you have for someone who wishes to (eventually, as soon as she has both the space and the money) have a cat, but who has never had a pet before?

Oh goodness, I don’t feel like an expert but I will do my best! Here’s a few tips I can think of from my own experiences:

1) Decide how okay you are with shedding. Of my two cats, the long-haired one obviously sheds a lot more noticeably, and it can be a bit aggravating to find clumps of fur all over the carpet. Hard floors can make this less of a nuisance since you can sweep it up easily, but if you have a lot of carpet, I’d suggest a short-hair cat unless you just SUPER LOVE long-hairs. Of course, my cats were both strays so those kinds of considerations didn’t really factor in. 😅

2. Determine if you want a cat that is indoor/outdoor or indoor only. Now, there is a lot of argument against letting cats run free outdoors, but I used to live out on a farm right next to a trailer park full of stray cats, so a few more (all fixed) weren’t going to make much difference to the local wildlife. Once I moved into town, though, I rehomed my one cat I knew would be miserable being indoor-only, and the other two have adapted pretty well to being indoor cats. (They do try and sneak out the door sometimes, though.) I did this mainly because risks like being hit by cars or being mistaken for a stray and adopted by some well-meaning person are much higher in town. They are still risks elsewhere, though, so keep a collar on your cat, and consider getting it microchipped. Also, know that you will probably need to get the cat some extra shots, for diseases they can only get outside. Also also, make sure you spay/neuter! (The kitten issue aside, female cats are so WEIRD when they are in heat!)

For indoor cats, my house has stairs the cats can run up and down and they seem to stay in good shape, but just make sure they have some kind of ability to exercise if they can’t run much. Stimulating things like feeder dishes that make the cat work for its food can help mentally and with keeping them from overeating. (I got this neat feeding bowl that is actually a holder of five cups of varying sizes that get filled with food, and the cats have to paw it out of the cups. It’s really helped with how fast they were eating.)

3. Cats have very different personalities, so I think it’s good to try and figure out what a cat is like before adopting it. I kept all my cats because they were really friendly compared to other cats I had known. Of course, there is the issue where my two current cats don’t always get along, but they at least don’t get into full-on brawls. But if you don’t have any other pets when you get the cat, this should be easier - you only have to get it used to you! Cats don’t always show friendlieness by cuddling; a lot of times, they just want to be in the room with you. But if you’re looking for a cuddler, see if you can find one that isn’t too afraid of people and will come right up for petting. When introducing it to your home, give it plenty of space and time to get used to its new surroundings and roommate.

4. Remembering to feed and water and change the cat litter can be hard, especially if you have ADHD. >.> My solution on the water front has been to fill a large decorative bowl in the living room and the cats just drink off that. XD For the food, Stormy will always remind me when she thinks the food is low (this is generally a false alarm the first couple times, the drama queen). Make sure you clean the litter box frequently, or the cats may find other, less agreeable locations to go. 8/ (Such as, oh I don’t know, INSIDE THE DRYER ON MY CLEAN LAUNDRY) If your cat does pee somewhere, you want to get those pet cleaner sprays because they break down the stinky enzymes that make cat pee smell so bad for so LONG.

5. As mentioned, some cats are cuddlier than others, but here’s a few general tips on cat behavior: a slow blink is how they show they trust you. A cat rolling onto its back is also showing trust that you WON’T touch its vulnerable belly (but some cats do actually learn to love tummy rubs; you kinda have to figure that one out on a cat-by-cat basis). They often like being petted on the area over the hindquarters near the base of the tail, but they also have a lot of nerves there and can get overstimulated, so if a cat goes from letting you pet it to trying to bite your hand, it is probably telling you that petting needs to stop NOW because its nerves are going CRAZY. This can also involve some trial and error; my former cat Clyde still sometimes knee-jerk reacts to being petted, but my sister says he has never done it to her, so we think she just pets less firmly than I do. Meanwhile, Shuri has NEVER reacted poorly to petting, and in fact would love nothing more than for me to spend an hour petting her so hard that she squishes into the mattress.

6. Don’t waste money on fancy cat toys unless you have some indication your cat likes that kind of toy. (This may be different if you raise them with the fancy toys from kittenhood; mine were both strays and are Very Suspicous of anything fancy I get them.) Laser pointers are an INSTANT FAVORITE and only cost a few dollars! And a dangly thing on a string can usually get them excited. Cats will often prefer a plain cardboard box over a fancy catbed, but they like pillows and piles of clothes and chairs and couches and people beds. And sometimes the round puzzle you put together on top of your hope chest, because Borders Are Safe Zones.

7. GET SCRATCHING POSTS OR THEY WILL MAKE THEIR OWN. (They will probably make their own anyway; my couch is regretably covered in claw marks. But the scratching posts at least help slow the deterioration.) Fun Fact: Cats don’t use scratching posts to “sharpen” their claws, but rather to rub off the outer layers on their claws. If you trim your cat’s claws yourself, you may notice how the claws kind of flake off when clipped. Be very careful not to cut into the quick (the blood vessel) when trimming! If your cat strongly opposes this process, the vet can do it for you for a small fee, but I generally just wrap mine up in a towel and make them suffer the indignity. It’s cheaper for me and less stressful for them than a long car trip and a visit to the strange vet’s office would be. (And they always forgive me pretty immediately after I release them. I cannot speak for cats that may hold grudges.)

I’m sure I haven’t covered even a tenth of the useful info, but I hope these are helpful and that you find just the right cat buddy in the future! 😄

[tanjamikaelson]

STRANGE LOVE - CHAPTER 4

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 4: | YOU SEEM A BIT FRUSTRATED |

It was a warm, golden Saturday, and Allison found herself at the beach, participating in a community clean-up event. The salty breeze teased her hair as she picked up litter, and the rhythmic lull of the waves provided a soothing backdrop to her task. The ocean’s vastness reminded her how insignificant her troubles were in the grand scheme of things, but she knew she needed this—this time alone, this escape from the drama that had been shadowing her lately.

As she worked, her eyes wandered across the shore and landed on familiar faces—Topper and Sarah, who she recognized from the kegger party. Their presence immediately set her on edge. Topper’s voice, as usual, carried over the distance, loud and dripping with disdain. It was hard to ignore how much the Pogues seemed to dominate his conversations, as if he was incapable of speaking about anything else.

Allison straightened up, wiping a strand of hair from her face and crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, it’s you again,” she called out, her voice cutting through the air, drawing their attention.

Topper and Sarah turned to face her, surprise flickering across their features before Topper’s expression hardened into his usual smugness. “I’m surprised you aren’t on the cut making trash with Pogues,” he sneered, his tone condescending and infuriating.

“Topper!” Sarah hissed, nudging him as if to remind him of his manners, though Allison doubted it would do much good.

Allison’s patience was already wearing thin. “Where’s your bully friend? I hope he isn’t here,” she asked, her voice laced with irritation as she scanned the beach for any sign of Rafe.

Topper’s smirk only widened. “I can call him. I’m sure he’ll come if he knows you asked,” he replied smugly.

“Please don’t,” Allison rolled her eyes, her annoyance bubbling just beneath the surface. She could handle Topper’s arrogance, but Rafe’s presence was the last thing she wanted to deal with today.

Sarah, sensing the tension, quickly interjected, her eyes darting between Allison and Topper. “Which bully friend?” she asked, though she seemed to already know the answer. Her gaze landed on Topper, silently urging him to explain.

“Your brother,” Topper answered, his tone dismissive as if Rafe’s actions needed no further justification.

Allison’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, the connection between Sarah and Rafe finally clicking into place. “Oh, he’s your brother? That’s just great,” she remarked dryly, the sarcasm evident in her voice.

Sarah’s concern deepened, her brows knitting together as she turned her full attention to Allison. “Did he do anything to you?”

Allison hesitated, a flicker of something darker passing through her eyes before she masked it with indifference. “No, not to me,” she replied, though her tone was sharp. “Why don’t you let your boyfriend tell you what happened?”

Sarah’s questioning gaze shifted to Topper, who rolled his eyes, clearly unbothered by the accusation hanging in the air. “Nothing. He beat the guy because they put a gun to my head.”

Allison’s eyes narrowed, anger flaring up at the memory. “He beat the guy who didn’t have anything to do with a gun on your head,” she corrected him, her voice cold and unforgiving.

Before the conversation could escalate further, a new voice cut in. “Thirsty?” A guy who seemed to be their friend appeared, offering Allison a bottle that looked like water.

Allison accepted it without thinking, taking a large gulp. Immediately, she grimaced, her face contorting with distaste. “What the hell is this?” she sputtered, staring at the bottle as if it had betrayed her.

“Just a concoction I made,” he replied with a grin. “I’m Kelce, by the way.”

Allison narrowed her eyes at him, though she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Not bad, but you could’ve warned me. I thought it was water,” she said, handing the bottle to Sarah before turning back to her work.

They finished the cleanup in relative silence, and everyone too focused on their tasks to engage in more than passing conversations. But the underlying tension from earlier remained, simmering just beneath the surface.

Once the work was done, everyone gathered in a large circle, the atmosphere one of camaraderie and shared purpose. The man who seemed to be leading the event stepped forward, raising his hands for attention. “Just a moment, friends, to acknowledge our blessings,” he began, joining hands with those around him. “To the big Kahuna…”

Allison watched as Sarah stifled a cough, clearly struggling to stay serious. But when the man started talking again, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. A giggle escaped her, and Allison found herself biting back laughter as well. The giggles quickly turned into full-blown laughter, drawing shushes and annoyed looks from those around them.

The man continued, seemingly unfazed by the interruptions. “Thank you for the opportunity for us to come out here and restore Masonborough to its virgin glory,” he concluded, his voice solemn. “Amen.”

Everyone clapped politely as they began to disperse, the event coming to a close.

As they were leaving, Sarah called out to Allison, “There’s a party Kelce is throwing today if you want to come.”

Allison considered it for a moment before nodding. “I’ll think about it. Thanks for the invite,” she said with a polite smile, though her mind was already spinning with excuses not to go. As much as she wanted to keep her distance from Rafe, she couldn’t deny the curiosity tugging at her.

・ • ・ • ・

Later that day, Allison was sprawled out on her bed, her laptop balanced on her knees as she watched an episode of Supernatural. The familiar show was a comfort, a way to escape from the reality of her life for just a little while. A bowl of snacks sat beside her, and she absentmindedly munched on them as the show played. But her relaxation was short-lived when her phone buzzed on the nightstand, interrupting her escape. She glanced at the screen and saw Jessica’s name flashing, along with a call.

Sighing, Allison paused the show and picked up the phone. “Hey, what’s up?” she answered, trying to keep her voice light.

“You’re going to a party with me tonight,” Jessica announced, not bothering with pleasantries.

Allison groaned, already sensing she wouldn’t have much of a say in the matter. “Do I have a choice?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

“Nope. It’s going to be a good party,” Jessica replied with the kind of enthusiasm that made it hard for Allison to say no, even if she wanted to.

“Is it Kelce’s party?” Allison questioned, her curiosity piqued.

“How did you know?” Jessica sounded genuinely surprised.

“I already got an invite but wasn’t planning on going,” Allison admitted, her tone casual, though she could feel the beginnings of resignation creeping in.

“Well, now you are. Get ready, I’m picking you up in two hours,” Jessica instructed, her voice leaving no room for argument.

“Fine, see ya,” Allison said, hanging up the phone with a sigh. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating her options—or lack thereof. But Jessica’s persistence was hard to resist, and part of Allison, a part she wasn’t ready to fully admit, was curious about what the night might bring.

Resigned, she closed her laptop and pushed herself off the bed, heading to the bathroom to freshen up. The hot water did little to soothe her nerves, but by the time she was done, she felt a bit more prepared to face whatever the night had in store. She carefully picked out her outfit: black leather shorts, a matching leather top, and heels that added just enough height to give her confidence without making her uncomfortable. The all-black ensemble made her feel powerful like she could handle anything—or anyone—that came her way.

Just as she finished applying her makeup, she heard the familiar honk of Jessica’s car outside. Glancing at her reflection one last time, Allison grabbed her purse and headed downstairs, slipping out the door.

Jessica and Brandon were waiting in the car, Brandon behind the wheel. As Allison climbed into the back seat, she greeted them with a smile, though her mind was still racing with thoughts of what the night might hold.

The drive to Kelce’s house was filled with Jessica’s excited chatter about who would be there and what the vibe would be like. Allison listened half-heartedly, her thoughts drifting to the earlier encounter at the beach and how easily the Kooks dismissed the Pogues. The tension between the two groups was palpable, and while she wasn’t sure where she fit into it all, she knew she didn’t want to get dragged down by their petty rivalries.

When they arrived, the party was already in full swing. Music thumped from the speakers, and the house was packed with people. Brandon quickly disappeared to find Kelce, leaving Allison and Jessica to navigate their way through the throngs of people. They eventually found a group of girls they knew in the living room, and Allison immediately reached for a bottle of tequila, pouring shots for everyone.

The alcohol hit quickly, easing the tension in her shoulders and making the room seem a little less overwhelming. She found herself relaxing, sharing stories about her time at boarding school. She told them about the strict rules and lack of boys, which prompted sympathetic laughter from the girls. Brandon reappeared after a while, this time with a few joints in hand. He offered them to the group, and Allison didn’t hesitate to take one, letting Brandon light it for her.

She took a long drag, the familiar burn in her lungs followed by a wave of calm that settled over her. “This shit is good,” she remarked, exhaling slowly.

“Only the best,” Brandon replied with a grin, passing another joint to Jessica.

They continued drinking and smoking, the haze of alcohol and weed blurring the edges of the night. The conversations around the table grew louder, and more animated, and Allison felt herself slipping further into the relaxed, carefree vibe of the party.

It wasn’t long before a guy approached their table, his eyes slightly glazed from whatever he’d been indulging in. “Hey, Rafe said he has some ye-yo if anyone wants,” he announced, his voice slurring slightly.

“Tell him to bring it here,” A blonde girl sitting across from Allison, replied, her tone eager.

Allison’s mood soured at the mention of Rafe. She leaned over to Jessica, her voice low with annoyance. “Rafe again?”

Jessica merely shrugged, clearly unbothered by his presence.

True to his word, Rafe appeared a few minutes later, taking a seat beside the blonde girl. His gaze scanned the table, lingering on Allison before he turned to a girl with a flirtatious smile. “So, I hear you called me here,” he said, his tone smooth.

The blonde girl shot him down with a simple, “I called you because I wanted a line.” She wasn’t interested in anything other than the drugs he’d brought.

“Anyone else wants it?” Rafe asked, his eyes sweeping across the group before landing on Allison.

Jessica, sensing Allison’s hesitation, spoke up. “I want it if Allison is going to have one too.”

Allison’s eyes flicked to Jessica, torn between the urge to push back and the ever-present curiosity tugging at her. She met Rafe’s gaze, which was filled with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. Despite everything in her telling her to stay away, she found herself saying, “If it’s as good as last time.”

Rafe’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile as Jessica handed him the money. He collected the rest from the group, pocketing the crumpled bills with practiced ease before pulling out a small bag of cocaine. As he prepared lines for everyone, Allison watched him closely, her emotions a mix of resentment and reluctant fascination. There was something about him that pulled her in, despite every logical reason to keep her distance.

Jessica was the first to lean over the table, snorting her line with a practiced ease. She handed the rolled-up hundred-dollar bill to Allison, who hesitated for just a moment before following suit. The rush was immediate, the familiar burn in her nostrils followed by a flood of euphoria that made everything around her seem brighter, sharper, and more intense.

The group laughed and talked as the cocaine coursed through their systems, the night taking on a surreal, almost dreamlike quality. Brandon and Jessica soon decided to find more friends outside, leaving Allison alone at the table, her mind buzzing with the mix of drugs and alcohol.

Feeling a sudden burst of energy, Allison downed a shot of tequila and made her way to the dance floor. The music pounded through the speakers, the bass vibrating in her chest as she moved with the rhythm. She caught the eye of a guy across the room, and before she knew it, he was by her side, offering his hand with a charming smile. Without hesitation, she took it, letting him pull her close as they danced.

“You must be the new girl,” he whispered into her ear, his breath warm against her skin as they swayed together.

Allison smiled, the alcohol and drugs making her bold. “How do you know?”

“Because I would have remembered you,” he replied smoothly, his grin widening. “I’m Eric, by the way.”

“Allison,” she introduced herself, letting her body move in sync with his. 

There was something thrilling about the way he held her, his hands firm on her waist, guiding her movements with confidence.

“Damn, you’re so hot,” Eric whispered huskily, his voice sending a shiver down her spine. He pulled her closer, his hands sliding down to rest on the curve of her ass. Allison didn’t mind; in fact, she welcomed the distraction. Her hips moved with a seductive rhythm, her body reacting to the beat of the music and the heat of his touch.

Moments later, she turned in Eric’s arms, wrapping her own around his neck. They shared a playful smile before he leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. His hands roamed over her body, and she moaned softly into his mouth, her own hands exploring the muscles of his back. The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, and more urgent as their bodies pressed closer together.

While Allison was lost in the moment, another pair of eyes was watching her intently from across the room. Rafe stood with a drink in his hand, his gaze never leaving her as she danced and kissed with Eric. His jaw clenched, a flicker of something dark and possessive passing through his eyes. He was drawn to Allison from the moment he saw her at the golf course. Unlike the other girls who threw themselves at him, Allison was different. She was confident, independent, and completely uninterested in playing his games. And that made him want her even more.

As Eric’s hands slid down to squeeze Allison’s ass, Rafe’s grip on his drink tightened. He didn’t know what it was about her that got under his skin, but he knew he had to find out. He needed to get closer to her, to break down her walls and see what lay beneath that fiery exterior.

Eric pulled away from the kiss just enough to whisper in her ear, “Wanna take this somewhere else?”

Allison nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as he took her hand and led her toward the stairs. The night had taken on a hazy, dreamlike quality, and she was too caught up in the moment to care about the consequences.

As they made their way upstairs, Allison felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Rafe watching her, his expression unreadable. She held his gaze for a moment, silently daring him to say something, but he didn’t. He just stared, a dark intensity in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine.

Once they reached a bedroom, Eric wasted no time. He pushed her against the door, his hands already moving to undress her. Allison let him, her mind fogged by the drugs and the alcohol, the thrill of the moment overriding any lingering doubts. She helped him pull off his t-shirt before he leaned in to kiss her again, his hand sliding down to cup her between her legs. She moaned against his mouth, her body arching into his touch.

Eric undressed her quickly, his breath hitching when he saw her pink, see-through panties and matching bra. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” he growled, his voice thick with desire.

Allison moaned, arching her back to press her body against his. She wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her, carrying her to the bed and throwing her down onto the soft mattress. Eric stripped off his pants and boxers in record time, his erection straining as he eyed her like a predator sizing up his prey.

He slid the soaking fabric of her panties down her legs and threw them onto the floor and then he was on her in seconds, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises as he positioned himself between her legs. Allison bit her lip as he guided his cock to her entrance, the anticipation making her head spin. He pushed inside her, his breath ragged as he began to thrust, his movements fast and rough.

Allison tried to lose herself in the sensation, but something was off. Eric’s pace was frantic, driven by his own need, and while she could feel the pleasure building, it wasn’t enough. It was almost like he was trying to get it over with as quickly as possible, and that left her feeling unsatisfied, disconnected from the moment.

He pounded into her, his hands gripping her thighs as he lifted one leg over his shoulder, driving deeper inside her. Allison whimpered, her body responding to the stretch, but her mind was elsewhere. She wanted more, needed more than what he was giving her.

Eric slammed into her one last time, his breath hitching as he came, emptying himself inside her with a low groan. He rolled off her, panting as he lay beside her, his eyes closed in post-orgasmic bliss.

Allison stared up at the ceiling, her body still humming with unfulfilled desire. After a moment, she turned to him, her voice low and tinged with frustration. “Aren’t you going to finish what you started?”

Eric cracked one eye open, looking at her in confusion. “What do you mean? I finished.”

“I didn’t,” Allison replied bluntly, her frustration evident.

“You didn’t?” Eric repeated, his surprise almost insulting.

Allison let out a sigh of annoyance, rolling her eyes as she climbed out of bed. “You just wasted my fucking time,” she muttered, quickly pulling on her panties and searching for her discarded shorts.

Eric sat up, watching her with a dazed expression. “We can do another round,” he offered weakly, though his tone lacked any real enthusiasm. It was clear he had already mentally checked out.

“Not gonna happen,” Allison shot back, slipping her shorts back on and fastening them with quick, frustrated movements. She felt a mix of disappointment and irritation, not just at Eric but at herself for expecting more from someone she barely knew.

She spotted her bra on the floor and bent to pick it up before she headed into the bathroom to fix herself up and Eric left the bedroom.

While she was putting on her bra she heard a faint noise outside the bathroom—a slight creak of the floorboards. Her head snapped up, and a jolt of unease ran through her as she noticed a shadow by the door. 

Suddenly the light was turned on and she realized it was Rafe, he was leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

“Oh my god,” Allison muttered, startled. “Are you stalking me?”

Rafe’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting with amusement as he saw she wasn’t wearing a t-shirt, “Kelce isn’t going to like what you did in his parent’s bedroom,” he commented, his tone teasing.

Allison narrowed her eyes, her annoyance flaring again. “Do I look like I care?” she snapped, pushing past him into the bedroom before she picked up her shirt off the floor and put it back on.

Rafe chuckled, following her. “You seem a bit frustrated,” he observed, his voice low and mocking.

“Get lost, jerk,” Allison muttered, trying to walk past him, but Rafe blocked her way. He wasn’t going to let her go that easily.

“Wait,” Rafe said, reaching out to grab her wrist gently but firmly. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “Since that party, I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

Allison stopped, sighing deeply as she realized he wouldn’t let her go until he got what he wanted. She turned to face him, crossing her arms defensively. “Ask me what?”

His eyes locked onto hers, the intensity of his gaze making her stomach flip. “Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, his tone almost casual, but the question felt loaded, charged with an undercurrent of something more.

Allison hesitated, not sure why the question mattered to him. “None of your business,” she replied, her voice cool as she tried to maintain her composure.

Rafe’s lips quirked into a slight smile. “Is that a no?” he pressed, his gaze never wavering. “I mean, you just hooked up with that guy, so I hope you don’t.”

Allison bristled at his persistence. “Is there no one else at this party you can bother?” she shot back, exasperated.

“Not really,” Rafe replied with a shrug, his expression completely unbothered by her hostility.

“Hard to believe that. I’m sure girls are literally throwing themselves at you,” Allison said, her tone biting, trying to put some distance between them.

“Oh, you’re sure?” Rafe’s grin widened, his eyes dancing with amusement. “So you think I’m hot?”

“I didn’t say that,” Allison retorted quickly, feeling her face flush. “I just noticed they were looking at you and being all flirty.”

“So you were paying attention to who was flirting with me?” Rafe asked, leaning in slightly, his grin turning almost predatory. “Interesting.”

“No. Stop twisting my words,” Allison said, her annoyance growing. “I don’t even have to pay attention to see that.”

“Well, they are not as interesting as you,” Rafe said, his voice softening as he looked at her with a mix of intrigue and something else she couldn’t quite place.

“That’s too bad. I’m not interested in you,” Allison shot back, crossing her arms more tightly, as if that could keep him at bay.

Rafe smiled, unphased. “See, I just think you’re playing hard to get.” He leaned closer, and she could feel the heat of his body, the intensity of his presence. “And I like a challenge.”

His fingers lightly trailed down her spine, sending a shiver through her, and before she could protest, he gently moved her hair aside to gain access to her neck. His lips brushed against her skin, a light, teasing touch that made her breath catch in her throat.

Allison didn’t push him away, though every rational part of her mind screamed that she should. Rafe's proximity, the warmth of his breath on her neck, and the way his fingers grazed her skin—it was intoxicating in a way that felt almost dangerous. She knew she was teetering on the edge of something, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull back.

Sensing her hesitation, Rafe took it as encouragement. He pressed his lips more firmly against the sensitive spot below her ear, sucking gently. A soft moan escaped Allison's lips before she could stop it, her body betraying her. His hand slid down to squeeze her ass, pulling her closer against him, and she felt the unmistakable hardness of his body pressing into hers.

"Fuck," Allison mumbled, throwing her head back instinctively as her resolve crumbled. 

The frustration from earlier, the dissatisfaction with Eric, all of it seemed to melt away under Rafe’s touch. He had a way of getting under her skin, of making her feel things she didn’t want to admit.

"I bet I can satisfy you better than that guy you were dancing with," Rafe murmured, his voice low and confident. His hands tightened their grip on her waist, his lips trailing down her neck in slow, deliberate kisses.

Allison shivered, her mind spinning as she tried to process what was happening.

“And you clearly enjoyed grinding on me last weekend,” Rafe added, his tone carrying a hint of smugness.

“I didn’t grind on you then,” Allison protested weakly.

“Yeah, you did,” Rafe replied, his voice low and sultry. “While I was giving you a massage. You didn’t even realize you were doing it.” His hands roamed her body with practiced ease, each touch calculated to elicit a response.

“Stop,” Allison muttered, trying to regain control of herself. She placed her hands on his chest, pushing him back just enough to create some space between them. She needed to clear her head, to think. With a deep breath, she stepped away from him, putting some distance between them as she turned to leave.

But Rafe wasn’t going to let her go that easily. “You could’ve done that five minutes ago, but you didn’t,” he called after her, his voice laced with amusement.

Allison didn’t respond, too focused on getting away from him before she did something she’d regret. She flipped him off over her shoulder as she hurried down the hallway, but Rafe just grinned, watching her retreat with a mixture of satisfaction and frustration.

For the rest of the night, Allison tried to avoid any further encounters with Rafe, but it was impossible to shake the lingering feeling of his touch, the way he had managed to get under her skin so effortlessly. 

By the time the party began to wind down, she was exhausted—mentally, physically, and emotionally. She slipped out of the house and found herself sitting on the steps of Kelce’s porch, her heels discarded beside her. The cool night air felt refreshing against her skin, a welcome reprieve from the stifling atmosphere inside. She rubbed her aching feet, willing herself to sober up before she made the walk home. The last thing she wanted was to face Kie’s parents in her current state.

The door behind her creaked open, and she didn’t bother looking up. She was too tired to deal with anyone else tonight. But the familiar voice that followed made her tense.

“What are you still doing here?” Rafe asked, his tone casual as he stepped outside, his presence once again unsettling her.

Allison rolled her eyes, not in the mood for his games. “Jessica left without me, so I’ll walk back home when I sober up a bit,” she replied curtly, still focused on her feet.

“I can drive you home,” Rafe offered his voice surprisingly sincere.

Allison finally looked up at him, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “Why would I want you to do that?”

“Why not? It’ll be faster than walking,” Rafe replied with a shrug as if the answer were obvious.

“Don’t you have some girls lined up to take home?” Allison asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She didn’t want to admit that the thought of being alone with him, even for a short ride, made her nervous for reasons she couldn’t fully explain.

Rafe smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “I can take you if you’re offering,” he quipped, though there was a note of seriousness in his voice that hinted at something deeper.

“I’m not offering anything,” Allison shot back quickly, trying to shut down whatever he was insinuating. 

“I just want to help you out, alright?” Rafe said, his tone softening, catching her off guard.

Allison sighed, knowing he was right about the drive being faster. “Okay, fine,” she conceded, standing up but feeling the ground sway beneath her. She grabbed the porch railing for support, her head spinning from the mixture of alcohol and drugs still coursing through her system.

Rafe walked over to his motorcycle parked nearby and grabbed a helmet, holding it out to her. “You can wear this.”

Allison stared at him in shock, the idea of riding a motorcycle in her current state was almost laughable. “Are you crazy? I’ll throw up if you drive me on that motorcycle. I thought you had a car.”

“I came here with a motorcycle,” Rafe explained simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Allison groaned in frustration, sitting back down on the steps. “Never mind. I’ll just wait it out,” she mumbled, holding her head in her hands.

Rafe walked closer, noticing the slight tremble in her hands. “You don’t look really good,” he observed, his tone more concerned than teasing this time.

“Yeah, well, I don’t feel good either,” Allison mumbled, not bothering to hide her discomfort.

Rafe’s brow furrowed in concern as he crouched down beside her. “I can get you some water if you want,” he offered, his tone gentler than before.

Allison looked up at him, her annoyance tinged with confusion. “Why are you being so nice?” she asked, not used to this side of him.

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just think we started off on the wrong foot,” he admitted, his eyes meeting hers with an honesty that took her by surprise.

Allison let out a small laugh, though it was tinged with bitterness. “That’s an understatement,” she muttered, shaking her head.

Rafe stood up, brushing off her comment. “Okay, I’m going to get you some water,” he said, heading back into the house.

“Cold water, please,” Allison called after him, though her voice was softer, almost resigned.

A few moments later, Rafe returned with a bottle of cold water and sat beside her on the steps. Allison took a grateful sip, the cool liquid soothing her parched throat and clearing some of the fog from her mind.

“I shouldn’t have mixed drugs with alcohol and different kinds of alcohol,” Allison admitted, feeling a bit more clear-headed as she leaned back against the railing.

“Yeah, you really did go hard,” Rafe agreed, watching her with a mix of curiosity and concern. It was as if he was trying to figure her out, to understand what made her tick.

“Well, I haven’t been to a really good party in quite some time,” Allison said, feeling a bit more relaxed as she settled into the conversation.

“So what’s a girl like you doing with the Pogues?” Rafe asked, genuine curiosity in his voice as he studied her.

Allison frowned slightly, her brow furrowing. "A girl like me?" she echoed, unsure of what he was getting at.

“Yeah,” Rafe replied, gesturing vaguely at her stylish outfit and confident demeanor. “Hot, pretty, and rich. You don’t exactly fit in with their crowd.”

Allison scoffed, rolling her eyes at his superficial assessment. “You think Pogues can’t be hot?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Rafe shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Not to me. They’re all just lowlifes.”

Allison felt a flare of anger at his casual dismissal. “That doesn’t give you the right to beat the shit out of them,” she shot back, her voice sharp.

Rafe’s expression hardened, the playful edge disappearing. “And it doesn’t mean they can put a gun to my best friend’s head,” he argued, his tone rising with his own frustration.

Allison sighed, realizing that this argument would go nowhere. She wasn’t going to change his mind, just as he wouldn’t change hers. “Okay, let’s change the subject,” she said, her voice softer as she tried to steer the conversation away from the escalating tension. She met his gaze, a small smile playing on her lips. “That cocaine was good quality. Where did you get it?”

Rafe’s expression relaxed slightly, a hint of a smile returning as he recognized the shift in the conversation. “Yeah, it is. I have more if you want,” he offered, his tone lightening.

Allison shook her head, the thought of more drugs making her stomach churn. “Definitely not right now. But seriously, where did you get it?”

“Barry,” Rafe replied simply. His eyes scanned her face, noticing the slight flush of her cheeks and the way her shoulders had finally relaxed. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah, a little bit,” Allison admitted, taking another sip of the water.

“Let’s get you home, then,” Rafe said, standing up and extending his hand to her.

Allison looked up at him, still hesitant. “What if I don’t feel good on the ride?” she asked, the prospect of getting on a motorcycle with him still making her nervous.

“If you don’t feel good, I’ll stop driving,” Rafe promised, his voice steady and reassuring. “Come on. I’m not going to sit here all night.”

Allison sighed, realizing that she didn’t have many options. She placed the water bottle in her purse and slipped her heels back on, though she winced slightly at the pressure on her feet. She took Rafe’s hand, allowing him to help her up, and felt a surprising sense of steadiness as he steadied her. Rafe handed her the helmet and, with a surprising amount of care, fastened it under her chin.

He swung his leg over the bike and offered her a hand, Allison hesitated for a moment. She was about to effectively mold her body to Rafe Cameron's, and the thought made her stomach flip for more reasons than one.

After a moment of hesitation, she climbed on behind him. The feeling of molding her body to his was both thrilling and unsettling, her front pressed flush against his back as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

“Ready?” Rafe asked, his voice vibrating through her body as he turned his head slightly to look at her.

“Yeah,” Allison replied, her voice muffled by the helmet. She squeezed her eyes shut as the engine roared to life beneath her, the vibration of the bike reverberating through her entire body.

As they sped through the quiet streets, the wind whipped against her skin, pulling her further into the present moment. The initial rush of fear began to subside, replaced by an unexpected sense of exhilaration. The night air was cool, and crisp, and carried the scent of saltwater and pine, grounding her as the world rushed by in a blur of lights and shadows. Despite herself, she found a small part of her enjoying the ride, the sense of freedom it offered, as if the weight of the night was being left behind with each passing mile.

But even with the thrill of the ride, Allison remained acutely aware of the man in front of her. Every time Rafe leaned into a turn, she tightened her grip around his waist, feeling the solid strength of his body through the layers of his clothes. It was an intimacy she wasn’t prepared for, especially not with him, but it was undeniable. She couldn’t ignore the way his presence made her feel—unsettled, intrigued, and a little bit reckless.

When they finally came to a stop, the engine’s rumble fading into silence, Allison hesitated to let go. She kept her arms wrapped around him for just a moment longer, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cool night air. It wasn’t until she realized they had reached her destination that she reluctantly peeled herself away from him, climbing off the bike with shaky legs.

She took a deep breath, her heart still racing from the ride, and removed the helmet, handing it back to Rafe. Her head felt slightly clearer, but the buzz from the night’s events lingered, making everything feel a little surreal.

Rafe watched her with a knowing smirk as she steadied herself. “You okay, princess?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

“Don’t call me princess,” Allison snapped back, her usual feistiness returning as she tried to regain some semblance of control. She took a step back, but her knees buckled slightly from the lingering effects of the night. Rafe was quick to catch her, his hands firm on her arms as he guided her to sit down on the grass.

“Let me sit down,” Allison muttered, feeling the world tilt slightly as she sank onto the cool ground. “I’m never drinking and riding on that bike again,” she added, her voice a mix of exasperation and relief.

Rafe laughed, crouching down beside her. “That’s a lie,” he said, his tone teasing but not unkind.

Allison couldn’t help but smile, despite herself. “Thanks for the ride, but you can go now,” she said, trying to dismiss him, though part of her was surprised at how comfortable she felt with him there.

Rafe, however, wasn’t so easily deterred. He kneeled in front of her, his grin never faltering. “Not until you give me your number,” he said, holding out his phone expectantly.

Allison raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Isn’t it enough that you know where I live?” she questioned, her tone wary.

“Not nearly enough,” Rafe replied, his smile widening as he waited.

She sighed, the fatigue from the night catching up with her. “I don’t know if I want to give you my number,” she admitted, half expecting him to press further.

But Rafe remained unfazed. “Oh, come on,” he said, rolling his eyes slightly. “You see, I’m not as bad as you think.”

Allison looked at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. Despite everything she knew about him, or thought she knew, there was something about the way he looked at her now that was disarming, almost genuine. “I’ve seen nothing,” she replied flatly, though her tone had softened.

Just as Rafe was about to say something, a light flickered on inside the house, illuminating the yard. Allison’s heart skipped a beat as she realized someone might be coming to check on her. 

“Oh, shit,” she muttered, grabbing Rafe’s hand and pulling him with her as they quickly moved to the other side of the house, away from the prying eyes.

Rafe followed her without question, curiosity piqued. “Why are we sneaking around?” he asked, amused by the sudden urgency in her actions.

Allison peeked around the corner, making sure the coast was clear before answering. “Someone from the house almost saw us,” she whispered, still holding his hand as they crouched under a window.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the situation. “I’m sure it would be so bad if someone saw you with me,” he said sarcastically.

“No,” Allison shook her head, her voice low and urgent. “It would be bad if they saw me drunk and high. I can barely stand.”

Rafe chuckled softly, clearly entertained by her predicament. “How did you run then, huh?” he teased, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ve got more energy than you think.”

Allison rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. “That’s not the point. You’re gonna give me a boost so I can climb up into my room,” she said, changing the subject as she looked up at the window she had left slightly open before leaving for the party.

Rafe’s grin widened. “Are you gonna help me climb up too?” he asked, the cocky smile returning.

“No, Rafe,” Allison whispered back, exasperated. “Just help me, please. I’ll give you my number.”

“Give me your number first,” Rafe insisted, pulling out his phone and handing it to her.

Allison rolled her eyes again but took his phone, quickly typing in her number before handing it back to him. “There you go. Now let’s just get this over with.”

“When you climb up, I’m going to call you,” Rafe warned, dialing her number as he spoke. “If it’s a fake number, I’ll let everyone know you’re here.”

“Are you serious?” Allison stared at him, trying to gauge if he was joking or not.

“Dead serious,” Rafe replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He cupped his hands for her to step on, ready to give her the boost she needed.

Allison sighed, muttering under her breath, “You just proved once again that you’re a jerk,” before stepping onto his hands. She used his shoulder and the windowsill for support as he hoisted her up. With a final push, she managed to pull herself through the window and into her room.

Once inside, she leaned out the window, whispering, “Thank you,” before trying to close the window, but Rafe stopped her.

“Wait,” he said, holding up his phone. He pressed the call button, and a second later, Allison’s phone buzzed in her purse.

She showed him the screen, where his call was displayed, and Rafe smiled widely, clearly pleased. “Well, thank you. We’ll have to do this again sometime,” he said with a grin.

A chuckle escaped Allison’s lips despite her best efforts to stay annoyed with him. “I don’t think so,” she replied, shaking her head.

“Good night, princess,” Rafe winked at her before turning to walk back to his motorcycle.

Allison watched him for a moment, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. Despite everything—his arrogance, his recklessness, his infuriating charm—she couldn’t help but feel that tonight had changed something between them. She wasn’t sure what it was, but as she closed the window and leaned back against the wall, she knew one thing for certain: Rafe Cameron was not as easy to figure out as she had once thought. And maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want to stay away from him as much as she had convinced herself she should.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Punish You With Pleasure (Pleasure You With Pain): Part Four

A/N: Happy Tuesday! Who's ready for more Rhysta? Well, there's not really a lot of Rhysta happening here but... Also sorry, besties. No smut in this update either. But! We are really getting into it now. I hope you're ready for ✨drama✨ And with a new update comes the evergreen reminder that Rhys is not a good person in this fic. The fun of it is that it's the worst version of him. So if you don't like, don't read. Scrolling past is free

Read on AO3

Rhys feels entirely too keyed-up.

His power writhes in his chest, darkness slithering between his ribs and tightening like coils around his lungs. He swears he can feel that power scrape down his limbs like claws, feel it pulse and pound in time with every beat of his heart. The beast within him prowls restlessly, hackles raised and hairs standing on end. Caged and hungry to get out.

It leaves him feeling untethered, on edge. He’s had to expel more magic than normal out of pure need to shake the building energy. Had to fly deep into the Illyrian mountains and simply unleash himself. He’d caused a bit of an avalanche, but the relief had been worth it. The release had been worth it.

And he was beyond desperate for release.

Three days. It had been three days since he paid a visit to Nesta’s apartment, more than ready for another taste of her, another chance to watch the way her cunt took his cock and dripped with his seed, another opportunity to keep her stuffed full of him, only to find the place completely empty. He’d tried to be inconspicuous, asking around the apartment building, even daring to take a trip to Nesta’s favorite watering hole, the Wolf’s Den, but no one had seen the eldest Archeron.

He’d even tried to reach out to her mind, casting his talons as far and wide as he could, but there was not a single trace. Her mind was nowhere to be found. Nesta was nowhere to be found. At least, not in Velaris. Wherever she went, Rhys can’t reach her.

He sighs softly, rolling his shoulders and neck. His fingers curl against his desk, claws breaking free without his control and scraping against the wood. The splintering sound is jarring in the otherwise quiet study, and Rhys winces as he looks down at the gouges left behind. Another huff, and he shoves the papers in front of him aside, covering the marks and hiding them from sight.

Rhys nearly jumps out of his skin at the feel of hands on his shoulders, palms sliding down his chest. He turns his head to meet a pair of bright blue gray eyes, a freckle smattered nose, and a smear of green paint across a cheek bone.

“You’ve been working so hard you didn’t even hear me come in,” Feyre teases lightly.

She pulls back and walks around Rhys’s chair, slipping up and onto his desk. She tilts her head as she peers at him, reaching a hand forward and pushing the hair off his forehead, fingers slipping through the strands and sliding along his scalp with the movement. Her lips pinch in the barest hint of a frown, eyebrows beginning to pinch together.

“You look terrible.”

Rhys chuckles, raising an eyebrow at the comment. “Just what every male wants to hear, darling.”

“I mean it,” Feyre insists, her gaze roving over his face like she can find the answers she’s searching for there. “Have you not been sleeping?”

Rhys looks away from her burning gaze, his jaw clenching with that still barely concealed frustration writhing beneath his skin. “I’m simply trying to ensure this Court’s success. I’ve always been trying to ensure this Court’s success.”

Feyre sighs softly, her hand sliding from his hair down to his shoulder, fingers squeezing lightly. “And you have, Rhys. Everyone is at peace now.”

But just peace isn’t enough. It’s what no one else seems to understand. No one else seems to see exactly what Rhys is trying to build here. See how the Night Court could be so much more.

It’s what his father always told him when he was younger, stories of their ancestors. Legends and myths of grand creatures, powerful creatures. How they used to rule all the lands with iron claws. How they could drink the magic of the land like wine. And those beasts at their feet that prowled Prythian. The same beasts carved into the onyx of the Hewn City.

The same beast that prowls within Rhys.

Unleashing that beast within them was how his ancestors were able to defeat their god-like dictators in the end. How they were able to rise from the ashes and rule all of Prythian. How they were able to turn their attention to worlds beyond. And, according to Rhys’s father, with that kernel of power that still endures in their family line, with their own magic and beasts, they could be great like that again.

Possibilities.

That was what his father would say while he trained his magic, during his lessons. Whispered promises of what could be. What Rhys could be. What the Night Court could be. How powerful they could be. How feared they could be.

A beast on his true, deserving throne, all under his rule and a legacy of power to follow him and keep that mantle.

Rhys lets out a quiet gasp of surprise as warmth floods through his shoulder. Soft, golden light sparks in the corner of his vision, weaving between Feyre’s fingers and burrowing beneath his skin. It twines around his muscles, relaxing and unwinding them in a way only magic can. Healing magic from Dawn in this particular instance.

Rhys focuses his attention back on Feyre. On his mate with the power of seven High Lords flowing through her veins. He swears he can see all that power that lives just beneath her skin, see it fluttering in time with the pulse in her neck. The beast purrs in delight at the reminder.

Feyre lets out a squeal of surprise when Rhys’s hands grasp her waist, hauling her off the desk and onto his lap. He situates her until her back is pressed against his chest, her head tipped back against his shoulder.

“Feeling better, then?” Feyre asks, shifting her hips under the guise of getting more comfortable.

Rhys’s body responds to the movement in an instance, cock twitching in interest and blood simmering with heat. He tightens his grip on Feyre’s hips, tight enough to still her, tight enough to pull a soft groan from her throat, tight enough that he wonders if she’ll be marked with pretty bruises that perfectly match his fingers.

“What’s gotten into you?”

Rhys chuckles darkly, slipping one of his hands up and beneath the oversized sweater Feyre is wearing. He moves his hand up over her stomach slowly, relishing in the shiver that takes over her body. He continues his path up and up until he finds her breast, delighted to find no fabric or barrier between her skin and his palm.

“I’m much more concerned about what could get into you. Ideally, my cock.” Rhys presses his lips right to Feyre’s ear. “And my seed.”

~ * * * ~

Cassian swings the ax over his head, feeling the wood split beneath the force. He huffs as he pulls the ax free again, tossing the wood onto the ever growing pile to his right. The muscles in his arms start to ache with the repeated exertion, but it’s a welcome reprieve, the perfect distraction from the emotions still raging like a storm within him.

Another swing of the ax and Cassian tips his head toward the sky. He can just see the sun beginning to rise above the line of trees surrounding him, above the mountains. The pale blue sky and the early morning breeze doesn’t provide the relief he’s hoping for, though. It doesn’t help that this place still scrapes along his spine like claws.

It’s been decades since he last stepped foot here. It’s been centuries since he returned only to learn that his mother had passed while he was gone, since he razed this entire village and all those males that were complicit until nothing but ash and smoldering ground remained. An echo of the pain that blazed through and scarred his chest. An embodiment of the grief that left his heart torn to ribbons.

It took around a century for the regret to creep in. This place was his mother’s home. It was meant to be his home before he was plucked away and tossed into Windhaven. So he started flying back when he could, started building this cabin in hopes of it blooming into something more, helping this village to fully heal. But some ghosts can’t be chased away. They cling to the soil beneath his boots, twine around the branches of the trees, haunt every shadow and corner.

What would his mother think now? Seeing her home reduced to nothing more than a long forgotten graveyard. What would she think of Nesta? The female the Mother saw fit to bless him as his equal, pregnant by another. For a moment, Cassian swore that he saw his mother in Nesta, saw a whisper of her in her expression, in her eyes.

It broke his heart all over again.

Cassian’s grip tightens around the handle of the ax, swinging hard enough that the blade embeds itself in the stump of the tree at his feet. He decides to leave it there, gathering up as much wood as he can carry in his arms and trudging back inside the cabin. He spies Nesta up in the loft, still fast asleep.

It feels almost strange to have her scent all over this place now, the sweet smell of vanilla and lilies made only sweeter by the budding one just beneath. If Cassian closes his eyes, he can still feel the weight of her fingers in the spaces between his own as she let him guide her out of the bakery. Can still feel her body pressed against his chest as he flew them both to Illyria.

Keeping his steps quiet, Cassian makes his way over to the fireplace, stoking the low burning flames higher and adding fresh logs. Heat begins to prickle his skin and the air around him, and he knows soon the whole cabin will be pleasantly warm, chasing away the morning chill. He glances toward the kitchen, wondering what sort of food he may be able to dredge up for breakfast when the sound of a quiet whimper reaches his ears, his entire body freezing.

He’s been on edge since he returned to Velaris, since he discovered Nesta and what happened. His instincts have been writhing in his chest, sinking their claws in and roaring for attention. And just that sound has those instincts rearing their head yet again. His heart seizes, siphons on his hand pulsing until only red floods the corners of his vision.

He’s up the stairs to the loft in seconds, but his panic turns to confusion when he finds Nesta still tucked beneath the blankets of the bed. She shifts in her sleep, and Cassian watches as her brows pinch together, her lips twisting. When another whimper escapes, he closes the remaining space between them, carefully approaching the bed.

“Nesta,” Cassian starts, reaching out for Nesta’s shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Nes, you need to wake up.”

Nesta’s entire body jerks, and she gasps on a hard intake of air as she wakes. She scrambles up and away from Cassian, frantic eyes dancing around the loft. Cassian doesn’t miss the way her hands seem to shake, even as they twist and grasp at the blankets, her chest heaving with each breath.

“It’s okay,” Cassian continues, keeping his voice quiet. “You’re okay, sweetheart. It was just a dream. It wasn’t real.”

Nesta’s attention snaps to him, the fear finally melting away from her face, but it’s not relief that takes over her expression. Instead, there’s a hollowness, a dejected sort of acceptance as she curls her knees up to her chest.

“It’s always real,” Nesta whispers, looking away from him again. “That’s the worst part. It’s always just reliving what’s real.”

“Tell me how I can help. What do you need?”

“A drink,” Nesta snorts dryly. “But I can’t have one of those to help chase away the nightmares anymore.”

Cassian winces, at least glad that she doesn’t see his reaction. “How about a cup of tea? And some breakfast?”

“Is tea your answer for everything?”

Cassian chuckles. “Only if it helps.”

Nesta sighs softly, but she shoves the blankets off her legs, slipping off the bed. Cassian leads the way down out of the loft and into the kitchen, busying himself with getting the tea going first. Only when the warm porcelain is pressed between Nesta’s palms does he worry about preparing food for them both.

“You know…” Cassian starts, giving the oatmeal in the pot a good stir. “Leading up to the Blood Rite, I would have terrible nightmares about it. Dreamt of Az getting run through with a sword. Of… of Rhys falling from Ramiel.”

It takes everything within Cassian to swallow down his shiver at the reminder of those dreams. They were always so vivid, inescapable in the worst way. He digs two bowls out of the cabinet, scooping oatmeal into each and sliding one over to Nesta.

“After the first War, the nightmares shifted. We were all stationed apart during it. I was out west, as were most of the Illyrians. I suppose, looking back on it now, it was because we were more expendable. Because the battles were awful there, brutal, the whole field just red and bodies. That’s what I would dream, but every face would be my family’s. It haunted me for years.”

“Is this meant to make me feel better? That you have nightmares too?”

“Is it not?” Cassian teases lightly, taking a bite of his own breakfast before he turns serious again. “After this most recent war, the nightmares shifted again.”

Nesta rolls her eyes, merely poking at her oatmeal aimlessly. “Let me guess. Your brothers taken out by the Cauldron?”

“Not quite. Sometimes, I do dream of that Illyrian legion. Gone in the blink of an eye. But usually, my dreams are of you, of that moment we faced down the King of Hybern. But in my nightmares, he doesn't just disarm you, he runs you through with that sword, and I can’t save you.”

Nesta doesn’t say anything for a moment, those blue eyes of hers still so guarded as she stares at him. But then that all too familiar scowl is twisting across her face, fire sparking to life behind her irises. She roughly shoves her breakfast away, raising her chin in nothing short of defiance.

“I don’t need your saving.”

“I know. I didn’t… that’s not what I was trying to say. That’s not why I’m doing this.”

“Oh, I know why you’re doing this,” Nesta laughs derisively. “It’s your obligation.”

The response takes Cassian by surprise, and he frowns slightly. “Obligation?”

“I’m not stupid. I may have been human before, but I can still feel it. I know what this is between us.”

Cassian goes stock still. It’s a word he hasn’t said aloud, a word he’s scarcely allowed himself to even think until recently.

Mate.

He’d sworn he’d felt it, that first moment he’d stepped foot inside the Archeron manor, the first time his eyes met a human pair of stormy blue ones. Sworn that in that moment even the Mother herself held her breath, sworn that something golden and warm slithered around his ribs. That golden thread had only solidified during the War, when they faced down the King.

Cassian doesn’t think he’ll ever forget reaching for what remained of his magic reserve to throw a shield around her, driving forward with a sword if only to give her time to get away. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget begging her to run, the instincts writhing and raging in his chest worse than any other pain the King may have inflicted on him.

If only he hadn’t been so afraid to name what it was in those days immediately, to go to her. If only he hadn’t been such a coward.

“Well, I am freeing you of your obligation,” Nesta continues, her own voice sounding strained. “Just tell me the words to say, and I’ll–”

“Don’t.” Cassian clutches desperately at his side as if he can hold the golden thread in place by sheer force alone. “If you don’t want me, that’s one thing, but don’t you dare break it because you think you’re doing me some service. I care about you, Nesta. I’ve always cared about you. And I’m doing this because I care about you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you actually don’t have a say in my feelings.”

Nesta sighs, looking away from him. “It’s just the bond making you think you care.”

Cassian dares to step around the counter and closer to Nesta, to step nearer into her space. “I know it’s all still new to you, but that’s not how mating bonds work. They can’t create feelings. Trust me. There have been plenty of mated pairs that hated each other throughout history.”

Even as he speaks, Nesta shakes her head. “You deserve better than me.”

“Nes–”

“You are good, Cassian,” Nesta snaps, looking back up at him. The tears lining her eyes send cracks shattering through Cassian’s chest. “You’re brave and brilliant and kind, and you deserve more than a female that only knows how to hurt those around her. Who failed her sisters again and again. Who couldn’t save her own father in time. Who fucked your brother!”

The words ring in Cassian’s ears, but all he can focus on is the single tear that slips free and slides down Nesta’s cheek. On the way her fingers have started to shake again. On the way her chest has started to heave with short, gasping breaths. It’s signs he recognizes all too well, ones he’s seen too often in the faces of his soldiers.

He gives in to his own instincts, his own desires. His hands reach out, gently curling around Nesta’s shoulders and tugging her closer. He shifts so that his arms are wrapped tight, holding her against his chest, holding her together. He’s not sure what he expects, but the gesture seems to be the final nail in the coffin, the last straw that sends the dam breaking. Nesta lets out a whimper, the sound slicing straight down to Cassian’s soul, and then she starts to sob. Each one wracks her whole body, her hand curling into a fist in the fabric of Cassian’s shirt.

“It’s alright, sweetheart” Cassian whispers against her hair, sliding a hand down her spine in what he hopes is a soothing gesture. “I’ve got you.”

He keeps holding Nesta close, keeps whispering soft, soothing words, until her cries slowly subside to quiet sniffles. Even then, he doesn’t want to let her go, keeping his lips pressed to the crown of her head. Movement out of the corner of his eye has him drawing back in the end, the sound of parchment against the wood of the table drawing even Nesta’s attention.

“I thought you said they wouldn’t be able to find us here?”

“The magic is attached to me, not the place,” Cassian explains, reluctantly pulling back so he can grab the note. “You’re still safe here.”

Nesta still looks wary, but she nods. “What does it say?”

With a soft sigh, Cassian unfolds the piece of parchment, recognizing the clumsy script of the High Lady. He knew it was inevitable, knew it would all be inescapable in the end, but the words scrawled across the page still have his heart stuttering to a painful stop in his chest, his stomach dropping into his toes.

Come to the River House. It’s Nesta

~ * * * ~

Cassian lands before the front gate of the River House, taking a moment to peer up at the gray stone of the manor, at the lines of windows, at the winding path and greenery that leads to the front door. He takes a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. He takes a moment to check the straps of his leathers, the swords at his back and the daggers at his thighs. He has no idea what he’ll be walking into, but he’s sure that it can’t be good.

Rolling his shoulders, Cassian finally steps through the front gate and up to the front door. He pauses, hesitates, before reaching toward the door handle, reminding himself that he wouldn’t normally knock. Under normal circumstances, he would stroll right in as though this was his own home.

Even if these aren’t normal circumstances. Even if he’s not sure he’d still call it that now.

He’s not surprised to find the entrance hall empty, but voices drift toward him from further down the hall, from Rhysand’s study if Cassian had to guess. He starts to head in that direction but then the very male in question is stepping down the winding staircase, his eyes meeting Cassian’s.

Cassian clocks the exact moment Rhysand notices his scent, his steps faltering for just a moment before he continues the rest of the way down the stairs and into the entrance hall. Cassian hadn’t bothered trying to scrub himself down before flying here. He knew there would be no erasing the whisper of Nesta along his skin anyways. And maybe there’s a bit of selfish satisfaction in it too, watching the way Rhysand’s jaw feathers.

Just seeing him has Cassian’s rage flaring again. It licks down his limbs like flames, his magic swelling in response and sending his siphons pulsing. It doesn’t help that despite what’s happened, what he did, Rhysand still carries himself with a casual coolness. He merely tilts his head as he peers at Cassian, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“I suppose I should have known you'd have something to do with the disappearance.”

Cassian scoffs, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. “Really? That's what you want to fucking say to me?”

There’s not even a flicker of a change on Rhysand’s expression. “Where is she?”

“As if I'd tell you,” Cassian growls out, daring to take a step closer into Rhysand’s space. “You're lucky I don't punch you in the face right now.”

“I’m your High Lord.”

“Yeah… and to think I once thought you were my brother.” Cassian shakes his head, not even sure he really knows the male still standing in front of him. “How could you?”

Rhysand’s violet eyes flash at that, a crack in his expression giving way to a cold, mocking smirk. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Cass. Did she tell you how she screamed my name?”

The snarl is loosing from Cassian’s throat before he can even attempt to stop it. Red bleeds into the corners of his vision, and not just from his siphons as his arm raises. His instincts demand retribution at such a slight, and he can’t wait to hear the crunch of bone beneath his fist, to feel Rhysand’s flesh as it gives way to the force.

“Cassian. You made it.”

Cassian pulls back at the new voice, turning to find Feyre has stepped out of the study, find her walking down the hall toward them. Her blue eyes flit between both males before landing back on Cassian, nothing short of sympathy burning in her gaze, in her frown and pinched brows.

“Rhys told you, then,” Feyre sighs softly, coming to stand beside her mate. “Don’t worry. We will find her.”

“Actually, darling,” Rhysand begins, lips twitching slightly as he turns toward his mate. “Cassian already knows where Nesta is.”

Cassian laughs humorlessly. “Are you sure you want to go there, Rhysand?”

“You know where my sister is?”

Rhysand meets Cassian’s gaze head-on, even as he answers Feyre’s question, “I tried to get him to tell me where she is, but he refused.”

Cassian shakes his head, huffing quietly. He suppose that answers his question as much as Feyre’s. The challenge clear in Rhysand’s eyes. He chances a glance at the High Lady, Feyre already watching him. Her face is scrunched up in confusion, blue eyes practically imploring him to answer. Cassian swallows hard at that expression. As much as he wants to hurt Rhysand, he’s not sure he can stomach doing the same to Feyre.

“I took her somewhere safe. That’s all that matters.”

“Safe?” Feyre repeats, crossing her arms across her chest. “She was safe in Velaris.”

“Was she?” Cassian can’t help but drawl.

“What does that mean?”

“Maybe you should ask your mate.”

The words are enough to give Feyre pause, her attention flitting to Rhysand for a moment before turning back to Cassian with new resolve. “I’m asking you. I am your High Lady, and I am demanding you tell me where you took my sister. That is an order.”

“I told you. I took her somewhere safe, somewhere away from him,” Cassian tells her, jerking his chin toward Rhysand.

“Away from Rhys? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What? Didn’t he tell you?” Cassian asks, his tone all mocking innocence. He’s had enough of this back and forth, this game. Enough of the lies. “Tell you how he’s been fucking your sister, how Nesta is pregnant with his child.”

Rhysand’s mask fully slips away, the beast Cassian knows prowls just beneath pushing to the surface as Rhysand's lips pull back in a sneer. Just that look has Cassian resetting his stance, readying for a fight. But Feyre lets out a quiet gasp, drawing both male’s attention back to her. Her blue eyes are wide, pinned to her mate like she can't believe it, like she's waiting for him to deny it.

But Cassian doesn't miss the way her hand drops to her stomach, fingers curling against the fabric of her sweater there. He doesn't know why he didn't notice it before, the way he decidedly can't pick up her scent. As though there's a shield around her blocking it. The realization has him wanting to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“Really, Rhysand? Who’s next? Elain?”

“Get out of my sight,” Rhysand growls, violet eyes blazing.

“Gladly,” Cassian bites back.

He turns on his heel, heading back toward the front door. He reaches for the handle when he feels it, the prickle of magic across his skin. It has his every hair standing on end, has his siphons pulsing in warning, responding to a threat. He's felt that lick of magic in the air before, during the War. Before Rhysand turned a whole chunk of Hybern’s armies into nothing more than night-kissed mist.

“Rhys.”

Cassian dares to turn over his shoulder at the sound of Feyre's broken whisper. Rhysand has his own head turned toward Feyre now, but Cassian doesn't wait for the High Lord’s attention to return to him. Nor does he turn back again. He’ll never turn back again.

[jimblejamblewritings]

luck be a (leading) lady | part 14.

[Posted 2023.08.12]

Summary: Y/N has always been a background character. That’s just life for some folks isn’t it? But what if she’s determined to not just be another member in the ensemble? What if someone helps her step into the spotlight in her own special way?

Warnings for the Series: a teeny bit of angst but mainly fluff

Pairing: ricky bowen x black!reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist) 

Despite the documentary trailer coming out, the general public didn’t believe you and Ricky were together. According to everyone, the whole show was an act. A very entertaining act but an act nonetheless. Not that you or Ricky minded. With the increase in auditions and booking small roles, you wanted your personal life to stay personal for just a little longer. You told Gina that much as you helped her finish packing.

Her mom was back into so your roommate turned sister was officially leaving your house. Gina dragged her entire closet into your room so you two could pack up and watch a movie on the projector screen in your room.

“I can’t believe your moving. Seriously,” you said as you shoved her jackets into a box.

“You act like I’m leaving the state, I’m literally across the street.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe that old couple finally chose to live in a nursing home.”

You and Gina paused before you bursted out in laughter. It was really nice to have her stay near by. While you were friends with the rest of the drama club, Gina and Ricky were still your only close friends at East High.

“You know what I can’t believe,” Gina started. “That two of my best friends are leaving me next year.”

“Senior year. I still haven’t processed it yet,” you admitted.

A knock on the door caught your attention. Your dad was standing in the doorway with a plate of fruit. “My lovely senior and junior…”

You and Gina rolled your eyes.

“Gina, your mother wants me to remind you that she’d like you home by ten thirty and that you two can talk tomorrow at school.”

“Got it.”

“Thank you, here you guys go. Let’s try to finish packing before the night is over.”

“If you really want us to finish. Dad, you could he—”

The sound of your window opening made you all turn. You laughed as Ricky practically fell into your room. He jumped up with a quickness.

“Hi, Mr. L/N. Y/N, Gina.”

“Hello, Richard. You do know we have a front door, right?” you father pointed to downstairs.

“Yeah but since you guys said I’m allowed over any time, it’s not as much fun unless I’m going through the window.”

Your dad looked up at the ceiling. “I have clearly overstayed my welcome talking to a bunch of teenagers. Okay, Gina, home by ten thirty. Richard no sleeping in Y/N’s room but you are welcome to take any other room upstairs. Bed time is eleven, no negotiations. School’s tomorrow… I can’t believe my baby is a senior.”

“Dad, Dad, there’s plenty of time before I graduate. We don’t need to start crying now.”

“Oh, whatever.”

You chuckled as your dad left the room before focusing on Ricky again. He had no problem showing affection towards you with Gina in the room because she was the only person that knew you and Ricky were a real couple. She wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about being sworn to secrecy no matter the reason but she was still just happy to be let in.

Your boyfriend sat on the bed, actually helping you pack up Gina’s closet. “I wanted to give you something but I couldn’t really wait until tomorrow. Well, both of you, kind of.”

“What is it?”

“So, I’ve had this melody stuck in my head all day and it reminded me of Y/N.”

“Sap,” Gina muttered.

“I think it’s sweet.” You leaned over to give him a peck.

“Anyway, I know you don’t really write songs but you have an ear for music Y/N and Gina does write lyrics so I thought maybe we could work on this together?”

“Of course.”

“Okay.” Ricky stood up to leave. “I actually do have to get home. One of Dad’s only rules is bed by ten on the first day of school.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “Yep, it’s been a tradition since I started… and it is nine thirty so I do need to go.”

You gave him another kiss. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow… Oh! Did Lucille send you the filming schedule?”

“Yeah, I’m just glad the filming is here. Senior year away from East High would’ve been such a bummer.”

“I know right. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

~~

You leaned against Ashylnn’s locker, chuckling as you watched Kourtney and Carlos take pictures with fans. It was weird to say you guys had fans.

“So what do you think, Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You focused back on Gina and Ashlynn.

“About Ash and Maddie giving each other relationship advice.”

You and Gina shared a look before you stood up straight. “I think that’s for Ashlynn to figure out but we need to figure out how to get to the drama club before we’re late for Ms. Jenn’s big announcement.”

Ashlynn’s eyebrows furrowed. “For me to figure out what?”

“Nothing,” you said with a laugh before grabbing her and Gina’s hands and leading them to the drama club.

You guys weren’t sure why Ms. Jenn called everyone in for a “surprise.” It was pretty obvious that the next play was going to be High School Musical 3. Without stupid Zacky Roy around to throw the Drama Club off their game, you guys were going right back to doing Disney TV shows for musicals. You just hoped that next semester you guys did Teen Beach Movie before you graduated.

You felt Ricky squeeze your hand once before you guys broke apart and left the drama room with everyone else to go to the Pep Rally. Staying lowkey was going to be so hard. You let Ashlynn and Gina walk in between the two of you on your way to the field.

“Can you believe auditions are this Friday? I need to pick a song,” Ashlynn said as she started searching through a list written down on her phone.

“What part are you going for Ash?”

“I’m thinking Kelsey or Sharpay. You?”

You shrugged. “Whatever doesn’t interfere with filming and my calculus homework. You know I’ve been demoted at Saltwater.”

“What?!”

You chuckled at your friends’ expressions. “Not like that. Bennet agreed that Principal dancer is too much to handle with school and filming so I’m only principal for the fall ballet since we’ve been rehearsing it before filming next month and then I’m just a first soloist for the rest of the time. It’s better this way anyway. This is the exact arrangement I’m going to having at Berklee. I’m thankful to get but my academic advisor sends me an email like every other day with updates. My inbox is dying.”

You guys sat down in your seats, finally moving to be next to Ricky.

“That still means we get to come watch you perform at Saltwater, right?”

“Yeah, you are looking at Coraline Jones in our fall production.”

Before your friends could celebrate you, the pep rally started much to your relief. You were still getting used to being the center of attention without losing the ability to breathe. Part of the reason you weren’t so prepared to be the lead in a feature film. A small film but still… The first Twilight movie was an indie film.

At least you didn’t have time to overanalyze that because the dude who played Coach Bolton was at the pep rally? You and Ricky rolled your eyes and sighed at the same time with the announcement of High School Musical 4 being filmed at your school. Just why?

Of course all the students were cheering no matter what, hoping that filming would mess with classes a little. You had a little fangirl moment when they announced one of the new stars of High School Musical 4. Mack and Dani.

Kourtney played Dani’s TikToks over and over again when you guys were at camp. Hopefully she could act because her TikToks seemed so nice. And Mack? Well you couldn’t help but squeal a little when they announced him.

Your friends looked at you causing you to laugh. “You don’t understand, I had one of the biggest crushes on him when I was little.”

“Me too!” Gina said with excitement. “Mark and Spark was my comfort show.”

“You know, he was supposed to be the first male lead in the movie I’m filming and my heart stopped until he cancelled of course.”

“Well now we know why,” Ashlynn said before focusing back on the stage.

You leaned your head on Ricky’s shoulder, having felt him tense up behind you. He relaxed when you grabbed his hand for a brief moment.

“You know I don’t mean anything by it. It was just a stupid celebrity crush,” you whispered.

“Celebrity crushes are still crushes.”

“Well then it was a stupid little crush. Is that better?”

“Yeah,” Ricky said with a squeeze of your hand.

You made a note to stay at Ricky's for a late dinner later after ballet rehearsal just to make sure he wasn’t still jealous. This relationship really was new territory for the both of you. But that would have to wait because now it was time for a second surprise in the drama room. You were getting real sick of surprises. And super sick of the security guard trying to block access to the drama room because of “filming”.

“Ahh!”

You all turned at Kourtney’s scream.

“Corbin Bleu?”

“Oh great,” Ricky muttered.

“Okay, okay. I deserve that a bit. But I am here to make amends. I know that documentary wasn’t what any of us expected.”

“Seb isn’t talking to me.” Carlos pointed out.

Ashlynn nodded along with him. “Yeah and Big Red is in Cairo for six months.”

“I hear you but we’ve found a way to make it up to you.”

“Uh, who’s we?” you asked with a raised hand.

You heard footsteps before you saw the people attached to the noise. You couldn’t believe it. Standing right in front of you was the original cast of High School Musical. Honestly, Corbin might have actually gotten you guys the best apology gift ever.

Featured extras in High School Musical 4? That was sick! So was everyone character development. You had to admit that you didn’t see Troy and Gabriella being in couples’ therapy… because you thought they would’ve broken up freshman year of college since they were such an on and off again relationship. The entire class was giggling uncontrollably at the prospects of being together on set.

Kourtney raised her hand. “Well, if the movie is going for authenticity casting a drama class to play Ms. Darbus’ drama class then Mack and Dani should consult us. The real life kids of East High.”

“This is why she’s the smart one,” someone said as you all high-fived.

Apparently, the OG cast thought she was brilliant as well because it didn’t take them any convincing. She was immediately assigned to Dani. You playfully shook her shoulders to let her know you were proud of her.

“Do we have any volunteers for Mack?” Lucas asked.

“Right like someone who grew up loving his tv show. Or two someones?”

You tried to back out of being Mack’s guide but it was too late. You were stuck co-guiding with Gina. All you wanted to do was focus on movie rehearsals, ballet rehearsals, your relationship, school, and drama club. That was a lot of things. Guiding Mack was not on your list of things.

You acted like that wasn’t the case when you went to go see the superstar, putting on your best smile. Your eyes went wide at an almost naked man getting his calf measured.

“Oh my,” you and Gina said at the same time.

Mack looked over. “Can I help you?”

You let Gina take over as you tried to look everywhere but at Mack, feeling embarrassed and more awkward than usual.

“We are so sorry. We are real students here, only one credit on IMDb so far but anyway, we were assigned to give you a hand.”

“Yeah, I’d love to know who assigned you to interrupt my costume fitting.”

“No. That was our bad.”

“Yeah,” you offered up. “If we had known you weren’t dressed we would’ve come way sooner before school ended… Soo-sooner because you’d have clothes on. Not whatever you l-look like you, like you’re thinking of. Oh my goodness.”

“Would you mind turning around?”

You and Gina looked at each other before doing just that. “That was probably the first thing we should have done.”

“Okay. So, I do have to ask,” Gina started. “Do you still keep in touch with the dog from the show?”

“There were seven of them and they all retired to a farm upstate.”

“Oh that’s so swee—”

“Uh, G,” you cut her off. “That means they aren’t, um, currently pr—”

“It means they’re dead.” Mack had put on a shirt so you guys could turn around. “The farm is heaven.”

“Well that ruined everything,” your friend muttered. “Okay, we’re going to leave now and we can all pretend we never met.”

“Oh, I’m way ahead of you.”

“Good luck on the movie, Mack. Hope you break a leg, literally.”

“Good luck with your lives, superfans.”

You felt your face get hot as you marched up to him. “Her name is Gina Porter and can I just say, I’m so glad High School Musical 4 took you in. Acting alongside you in Sweet Pea Americano would have literally killed me… G-Gina, why did I just say that?”

“I’m proud of you.” She swung her arm over your shoulder so you guys could leave. “Even with anxiety, you always stick up for your friends.”

“I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Come on, let’s go see if Ricky got a smoothie for us at the food truck.”

While you were mortified at your actions, Gina proudly recanted the entire story to Ricky who echoed her sentiments. You guys went you separate ways. There was no carpool with Gina today. Carlos called her over for an emergency meeting of the Finer Things Club at Kourtney’s house, leaving Ricky to drop you off at Saltwater. You guys stopped at a salad bar first so you could get some real food into your system.

“Oh, Gina finished the lyrics to the song.”

“Already?”

“You know her. Once she gets started on a mission, she can’t stop until it’s complete. Do you want to hear it?”

“Of course, do you have the lyrics on you?”

You handed Ricky your phone to look at the screenshots of Gina’s song journal. Your harmonies were rough and sometimes the melody fell off but the two of you had fun singing all the way back to the car.

“Are you sure you don’t mind picking me up?” you asked him as you leaned into the driver’s side window after getting your bags from the back of the car once you guys reached your destination. “Because we don’t get out till eleven and Mrs. Porter said it was fine for her to pick me up since Saltwater is between Kourtney’s house and ours.”

“It’s fine, baby, I like picking you up.”

“Okay. Oh, don’t forget. Gina’s driving tomorrow morning.”

“I can’t believe she got a car.”

“I can’t believe she got a license.”

You said bye one last time and headed inside for you ballet rehearsals. While you were dancing, Ricky was doing homework, and Gina was laughing as she got into Kourtney’s room. Ashlynn and Carlos were already there and Kourtney… well, she was meditating at the edge of her bed. While, Ashlynn had nearly forty missed texts from Maddox. Gina so had to tell you about that when you and Ricky came over for breakfast tomorrow morning.

Her smile faded at the announcement that Kourtney wasn’t sure about doing the school musical or not. She wasn’t sure if Dani was the best thing for Kourtney. She especially wasn’t sure when her friend suddenly became supper eager and chipper to answer her phone call. Kourtney put Dani on speaker after the others swore to be quiet.

“Hi, so I was studying you. Not in a creepy way but I’m really trying to get into character as a real East High drama student.”

Gina made a face when Dani suddenly stopped the speak pretty harshly to the driver taking her to the airport.

“Anyway, you’ve got that X factor, Kourt, and I want to help you grow your footprint. But I’ve been looking through your post and to be honest I’ve noticed something.”

“It’s the honesty for me,” Kourtney said with a nervous lilt to her voice.

“If I’m going to show you exactly what it’s like to grow an audience and you’re going to do the same for me as an East High student, I want you to tell me everything you know about Ricky Bowen.”

Gina bit her tongue as her other three friends stared at each other with suspicious looks on their faces. She got strange vibes for some reason but didn’t want to act on what could be nothing. Besides, she promised you two that she wouldn’t say anything to anyone. And how could she tell Kourtney not to mention Ricky to Dani if she didn’t ended up revealing something?

~~

You looked down at your phone to see a text from Ricky.

I’m still on my way, baby. Don’t worry, I’m stopped at a red light. I’ll be there in like 10 minutes. I wish your rehearsal didn’t end so late so we could’ve stayed up cuddling.

You smiled at the text before sending a little heart emoji, nothing that would require Ricky to look down at his phone after the light turned green. You ruffled around your bag to get your water bottle, reaching for your phone again when you felt the familiar vibration of a text. Another one from Ricky.

This red light is long. Do you want to get McDonalds after this?

You shook your head, deciding it was better to just answer him in person. A groan left you mouth when you felt the vibration again. That light wasn’t going to be red forever, if he was texting while driving then you were going to scold him because that could seriously inju—

Why was Mack now following your Instagram?

(part 15)

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