#uh if that's what you mean please tell me
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harunayuuka2060 · 2 days ago
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Queen of Hearts: I shall attend the party with my entire court, and there is nothing you can do to change my mind! Off with anyone who tries!
MC: Your Majesty, no. You lost the game of croquet.
MC: It should be just you and His Majesty, the King.
King of Hearts: Th-That's right, sweetheart! Y-You promised it would be a date!
Queen of Hearts: ...
Queen of Hearts: Did I?
MC: Yes, Your Majesty. Even if you are a tyrant, I'm sure you would never break your husband's heart.
Queen of Hearts: Who are you calling a 'tyrant'-
MC: Your Majesty, please. Consider.
Queen of Hearts: ...
Ace: Bruh, Riddle asked me to hide.
MC: Yeah... I mean, the Queen of Hearts doesn't joke around with her punishment.
Ace: But we're taking preventive measures, no?
MC: ...
Ace: Come on! I'll be good!
MC: Dude, why are you trying to convince me? Talk to Riddle.
Hades: Yeah… I’m kinda tied up that day. And frankly, I don’t think I’ll be in the mood for all those jolly faces.
MC: Uh... Your followers are literally bunches of socially awkward introverts.
Hades: ...
Hades: What?
MC: I promise you'll enjoy being in Ignihyde. You can play games and meet your descendant!
Hades: Descendant? Ha! Do I look like the kind of guy anyone would want to get involved with? This face? This place?
MC: *frowns* Sir, mortals worship you for being a loyal husband.
Hades: And who’s insane enough to marry me?
MC: ...
MC: Your wife.
Hades: ...
Azul: *laughs*
Idia: ...
Idia: Is it just me or you like beefing with the God of the Underworld?
MC: He's fun to talk with.
MC: Oh, and never tell him who his future wife is.
Idia: ...
Azul: Ah, I can't wait to meet them.
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queerweewoo · 2 days ago
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“So, I overheard this guy in the line at the coffee shop this morning talking about name meanings—”
“Of course you did,” Eddie interjects, not unkindly.
Buck turned up with beers about a half hour ago, and has had his head in his phone for the last, what, twenty minutes? Something like that.
This is the first thing he's said since Eddie let him in and he sat his ass down on the couch in silence, looking like he needed Eddie to just allow him to.
Eddie did.
“—and I thought I'd look up ours.”
He's chewing on his bottom lip like it tastes good.
Eddie surprises himself by wondering if it does.
“I'm guessing you already know what Christopher means.”
Thinking back to when Shannon asked if he liked the name, Eddie smiles.
“Means 'Bearer of Christ', or something, right? We chose it because was Shannon's grandfather's name, though. He was Greek, and she adored him.”
Searching fingers instinctively find his pendant. It's positioned to the left, sitting right over his heart.
He misses his son like he'd miss a lung.
Buck looks up at him and smiles back, and Eddie feels glad the release he'd found dancing 'round his living room earlier isn't going to suddenly disappear down the bathroom sinkhole, along with his moustache.
“So, tell me, what does Edmundo mean, oh scholarly one?”
Buck's eyebrows try to meet his hairline.
“You don't know?”
Eddie tips his head back against the couch and scrunches his mouth up into nose.
“I have sisters, man, of course I know what it means. But that doesn't mean I don't want you to tell me.”
Buck seems somewhat happy with that.
“Well, it's a derivative of the Old English name Edmund, which is a combination of the words ēad and mund. The first part means prosperity, or riches, which is a bit of a bust, sorry man,” and he tries for a grin. It almost hits.
“But the the mund part means protector—which is pretty spot on, I reckon.”
Buck's eyelashes are kind of blonde, and kind of pretty. Eddie's thought it before, but there's just something about them in this light, in Eddie's house, on Eddie's couch.
“It's actually a real pretty name, Edmundo. Don't know if I've ever told you I think that.”
“Don't think I've ever told you your eyelashes are kind of pretty, so that makes us even, I guess.”
Eddie smiles at Buck, big and genuine, and somehow it's so easy.
Buck smiles back. Looks a little confused, or pleased, or both. Eddie's not sure, but either is okay with him.
“Um, thanks?”
Eddie bites his tongue between his teeth in a poor effort to stop his grin turning positively goofy.
Buck takes it for what it is, and bats his eyelashes at Eddie, silly, and laughs.
His whole demeanor then changes as he finally settles properly into the couch and gifts his lungs with what might be the first proper breath he's taken since he arrived.
“Anyway, Evan is the worst of the three. It means yew, like the tree? Which is—it symbolises, like, spirituality, and rebirth and shit like that. 'S not really, uh, me, you know?”
“You mean like Evan isn't really you?”
Buck bites at his red, red lip again.
Eddie decides it'd taste like cherry Chupa Chups.
“Yeah. But it's—my name.”
“Except it isn't though, it's it?” Eddie reminds him. “You're name is Buck, Buck. You decided that.”
“I don't know why he always insisted on calling me Evan. Or why I just—let him. It was kind of weird.”
Tommy.
"Called? Past tense?” Eddie flips his tongue in his mouth. Breathes a little more deliberately.
Buck looks at his phone again before he's slowly placing it down on the couch between them.
His fingers are touching the outside of Eddie's thigh, and Eddie's suddenly acutely aware that he still isn't wearing any pants.
Buck leaves his hand where it is.
“He, uh, he dumped me. Because I—”
Buck sucks in oxygen, a lot of it, and holds it in his lungs before puffing out his cheeks as he makes a show of blowing it back out again.
“I asked him to move in with me.”
Eddie was not expecting either of those statements.
"Ouch.”
Buck's fingers twitch against Eddie's skin, and Eddie feels it travel right down his leg and into his toes, which curl involuntarily into the carpet.
“You wanna talk about it?” he offers, kind of knowing Buck doesn't. He will when he's ready.
“Not really.”
Eddie licks at his lips. They taste like beer, and a little like confidence.
“How about Buck?”
Buck looks at him, perplexed.
Eddie's leg is starting to cramp a bit.
He doesn't move it.
“A Buck is another name for a stag, right?” he continues. “And the stag symbolises strength and purity—
“Don't forget fertility” Buck is looking at Eddie, and it feels like something.
Eddie snorts. “'Course, don't wanna forget fertility.”
Buck smiles the first proper Buck smile of the evening, and Eddie's feels it in his chest.
“Hey, hang on, how come you know so much about stags, Edmundo?”
“You did that project with Chris about the forest.”
Buck blinks at him.
“Dude that was, like, years ago. And, as you said, I was the one learning all about the woodland creatures and different types berries and toadstools, so how do you—”
“Because you told me,” Eddie shrugs a shoulder.
Buck blinks some more.
“And you—remembered that?” he asks.
In this moment, Eddie couldn't blink, nor look away from Buck, even if somebody were to pay him.
“I remember everything you tell me.”
It's weird but it's like the air itself is crackling as they sit here, just staring at each other.
They look at each other for what feels like a long time. Or maybe it's just a single heartbeat, Eddie can't really be sure.
He watches as Buck swallows, his Adam's apple a calling card.
Eddie isn't entirely sure of why he thinks of that.
Until he is.
When Buck moves his hand, it's to slide it fully onto Eddie's thigh to just sit there, right at home.
Eddie's suddenly blinking so much he's a little worried he might be stroking.
He doesn't mean to say, “Can you smell toast?” but finds himself saying it anyway.
Buck smile is both crooked and adorable.
“You worried you're having a stroke, old man?”
“We'd have been at the same school at the same time, Buck. I'm not that much older than you.”
“You are old and I am young and everyone and the universe knows this,” Buck claims, cocky and sure of himself once more.
Eddie licks at his lips again.
“I, uh, I think I finally believe you.”
Buck now mirrors him, licking his own lips.
Cherry Chupa Chups.
“You mean about the universe?” he's asking, like he doesn't almost always knew what Eddie means.
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes.
Buck waits.
Just as Eddie is thinking he really should go put some on some sweats or something, Buck must get impatient because he replies, “I think it always wanted you to believe.”
Eddie doesn't have a clue what time it is, or whether he had dinner or not, or how he got so damn lucky.
“I'm gonna choose to believe, because you believe—and I believe in you, Buck” he says, somehow both sure and unsure of absolutely everything that is to come.
At long last, he finds he is totally okay with that.
“Anyways, I can hear it now,” he tells Buck, “and I'm listening.”
.
unedited; pls be kind!
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puckinghischier · 2 days ago
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oh quinn would feel so guilty when you get back and you’d just be like … uh so … no need to be sorry … bc if kinda worked for me
“baby, i’m so sorry. i was just mad, and angry, and didn’t know how to deal with it and you were the only one here and please, i’m sorry,” quinn would basically attack you when you walk through the door, takeout bags in hand.
you’d giggle, already having read his twenty texts telling you he’s sorry and to please come back home.
“q, it’s fine, really,” you place the food on the counter in the kitchen, his apologies following you the entire way.
“no, it’s not, there’s absolutely no excuse for the way i treated you, and i promise i’m going to make it up to you. tomorrow, you get whatever you want. we’ll eat at your favorite restaurants, get your favorite desserts, watch your favorite shows. i’ll even-“
“quinn!!” you interrupt his breathless rant with a laugh. “breathe! i promise, i’m not mad.”
he looks at you confused. “but…i was really mean to you,” he pouts.
“yeah, you were. and i probably should be mad. but it was hot, so i’m not,” you shrug, removing the various containers from the large bag, ready to dig in to your food.
“it was….hot?” he questions you, not expecting that reaction at all.
“yeah. it was. i mean, don’t do it again any time soon or i will be upset, but i don’t know if i’ve ever really seen you like that before and it…worked.”
“it worked?” he asks, still confused at what you’re implying.
“yeah, like it worked,” you give him a look, willing him to catch on.
you watch him try to connect the dots in his brain, just observing and waiting, until you see the light bulb go off.
“oh! you mean…oh” he stops, cheeks turning red. “really?”
you nod, amused at his bewildered tone.
once it finally sets in, quinn smirks at you.
“so…if i said forget dinner and meet me in the bedroom…?” he trails off, nodding his head towards the direction of your shared room.
you drop the containers in your hand, rushing around the island to take his hand and drag him behind you, glad you at least picked something for dinner that’s just as good heated over.
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wren-kitchens · 2 days ago
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no big deal (i love you)
2598 words
etho is in joel's house. it should probably be a little more alarming than it actually is, considering the fact that it is two in the morning and joel definitely did not invite him here. however, if it means he gets to make fun of etho for being so obsessed with him that he broke into his house, he'll take it. in all honesty, he is a little offended that etho hasn't already come to pester him—it's not like they’re soulmates or anything. if joel was in etho's house in the middle of the night, the first thing he would do is go to pester etho.
hello i'm back on my bullshit I love qpr boat boys
this took me like. idek how long but it was several months LOL
etho is in joel's house.
it should probably be a little more alarming than it actually is, considering the fact that it is two in the morning and joel definitely did not invite him here. however, if it means he gets to make fun of etho for being so obsessed with him that he broke into his house, he'll take it. in all honesty, he is a little offended that etho hasn't already come to pester him—it's not like they’re soulmates or anything. if joel was in etho's house in the middle of the night, the first thing he would do is go to pester etho.
oh- joel should probably tell you how he knows that etho is here, huh. well, let's be honest, the guy is not subtle. joel has practically memorised the way his claws scratch against wooden floors as he walks from the amount of times etho would pace in double life; when everything else is silent, etho's claws are deceptively loud. for a little while, joel didn't understand why etho wouldn’t use his claws like weapons, until he asked one day only to be told (slightly sheepishly) that he trims them because he hates the way they scratch against metal or diamond boots. honestly, joel gets it—he’s always been secretly pleased about the no-helmet rule in the life series; he would much rather sacrifice protection if it meant he didn't have to squish his ears underneath a helmet.
anyway, it's obvious that etho is attempting to be sneaky and failing miserably, but joel is yet to discover why he’s trying to be sneaky. he expected etho to- well, he’s not sure what he expected, but it wasn't whatever he’s doing right now. although, he also didn't expect etho at his house this late (early?), so it's kind of all up in the air anyway.
on that note, joel has no idea what to do. is it more awkward to pretend he doesn't know etho is here, or to go look for etho and ask what he's doing? honestly, joel kind of just wants to go find him and drag him into bed but- void, even saying that is embarrassing. no- there's no way he’s gonna do anything like that- pretend he didn't even say anything. joel regrets even mentioning it. despite how embarrassing it is, however, the problem remains that etho is definitely in his house, and joel has no idea why.
well, only one way to find out.
grumbling to himself about the blankets being way warmer than the outside world and why etho couldn’t wait until the sun had come up to come poking about, joel drags himself out of his bed and begins the hunt for etho. well- he pauses, grabs a blanket to wrap around his shoulders, and thenbegins the hunt for etho. honestly, why couldn't etho be more outgoing—the guy is way too reclusive to be friends with joel. not that joel is known for being introverted but- oh, you know what he means. 
it doesn’t take long to find etho—he’s curled up against a bookshelf near joel's bedroom, apparently trying to drift off. when he spots joel, he practically jumps out of his skin. 
"joel! you- did i wake you?" etho scrambles to his feet, looking uncharacteristically nervous. joel frowns at it. "i’m- I was just-" 
"are you okay?" joel realises after he says it that perhaps he was a little blunt, but- okay, in his defence, he has just woken up. "I mean- you seem.. uh, not okay."
smooth.
etho's ear flicks in what joel recognises as anxiety, hands clasped together as if to keep them from trembling. "me? oh- i’m perfectly fine! peachy even- y’know." 
joel tilts his head, more worried than he'd like to admit. "you- okay, so." his mind races as he tries to find something to say that won't put etho more on edge. "I- you say i’m obsessed with you, but- y’know, it looks a little like you’re obsessed with me right now."
"oh- no, no, that- I was just- taking build inspiration!" etho says hurriedly, and something about his posture seems slightly more relaxed. "it's nothing like that. in fact- I noticed that you kept that shirt with my face on, which- I mean, I don’t know, that looks pretty obsessed to me."
annoyingly, joel feels his face flush. "wh- okay, you let me keep it."
etho's eyes soften. "it- well. it suits you." joel's ear flicks unconsciously, and etho seems to realise how sappy he just was, because he turns pink and tacks on, "you- just- the shirt- it's oversized, and- you were saying how you liked them. uh- that one time."
joel can't quite suppress a smile at the fact that etho remembered one offhand comment he made two years ago. "whatever you say, etho." it takes a moment (and etho turning even pinker) for joel to realise how fond his voice was. "it- i’m making fun of you. not- y’know."
there's a spark of what joel can only describe as evil in etho's eyes, and he says, "whatever you say joel." with more smugness than he frankly deserves.
"you- no, you broke into my house, you don't get to make fun of me." joel says, indignant. clearly, his soulmate is the worst person in the world, because all etho does is poorly disguise a laugh as a cough.
"it isn’t breaking in if all your doors are open." etho grins. joel is a little annoyed at how well his plan has worked, because whilst he was trying to get etho more relaxed, he did not mean this relaxed.
joel raises an eyebrow, both exasperated and embarrassingly fond. "you haven't said why you broke in."
etho's expression shifts from amusement to anxiety in a matter of seconds, and joel is kind of impressed. "I- well, is that-  important?"
"you- since you asked like that, yeah." joel says, a little worried. whilst etho is pretty awful at actually disguising his emotions, usually he doesn't actually do anything about them unless something is very wrong. "I- y’know, don’t get me wrong, it's not- i’m not mad about it, but. are you alright?"
etho hesitates, looking as if he might try to make a run for it before sighing. he sits back down against the bookshelves, and joel takes the opportunity to sit next to him. "it's not even- it's barely a problem." etho glances at him. "as you would say, it's very dumb." 
joel scoffs, smiling a little. "then I guess it's my job to say that it's not dumb if it's upsetting you." he bumps his shoulder against etho's, who looks a little less anxious now. "what is it?"
there's a pause, in which joel can practically hear etho's brain working to phrase it in a somewhat normal way. "I- it's all-" he gives an exasperated huff. "since we- since double life, I keep getting these.. i’d call them dreams, but they’re really just nightmares." etho pulls his knees to his chest, and joel frowns in worry. "and they’re always something like- like we've won, but now I have to kill you. or you die and i’ve- i’m still there."
joel feels his breath hitch as the weight of those words hit him. "oh."
"so I just- I had to make sure," etho says, quiet. "that it- it was just a dream."
"etho." joel murmurs, resting his hand on etho's knee. etho takes his hand and squeezes. "I hope you know you’re not getting rid of me that easily."
etho gives the barest smile, and rubs a thumb against joel's hand. "I do."
"like, you’re gonna want me dead before i’m going anywhere." joel leans against etho's side in what he hopes is a nonchalant manner, but knows probably isn’t. 
etho makes a noise of contentment, and joel no longer cares about nonchalance actually. "that's unlikely." he says. joel is about to object when etho adds, "I don't think I could ever want you to leave me alone."
joel's tail begins to wag without his say, and he hurriedly grabs it before it embarrasses him too much. etho snorts and he elbows him.
"i’d miss that, for a start." etho says, and joel rolls his eyes.
"I wouldn’t." he huffs, no heat behind it. embarrassing or not, etho likes it, and that's a redeeming quality for anything. because he’s normal. 
etho gives a quiet laugh. "yeah- that's kinda why." he mutters, more to himself than to joel—who elbows him in the ribs and grins as he protests.
joel is quiet for a moment, debating whether what he wants to say is actually worth saying or not. eventually, he decides on, "you know- if you need, i’m not gonna.. kick you out, or anything. you can wake me up. if- if something happens again."
etho nods, staring at his lap. "yeah. I just-" he hesitates, and joel rubs a thumb idly across the back of his hand. "i’m starting to feel like you." he gives a laugh, and joel rolls his eyes fondly. "I didn’t realise just how- it's hard."
"yep." joel says flatly. "you get used to it, after a bit. it gets easier."
"can it get easier now?" etho says, grinning, and joel snorts. 
theres a little pause, and joel shifts a little, getting more comfortable. honestly, etho is surprisingly effective as a cushion—you wouldn't expect it, but he is. who needs a bed when you have a soulmate, is he right?
"are you-" etho starts, and joel looks up to see his eyes crinkle in the way they do when he’s trying not to smile. "is- are you using me as a pillow?"
"yep." joel says, shuffling closer. "I had to get out of bed for this."
etho snorts, wrapping an arm around him. "I see how it is."
they lapse into silence again, and joel finds himself wanting to ask something that he knows he would never be able to bring himself to say out loud. the irony is not lost on him- why is there no easy way to embarrass yourself? could he not just- turn his brain off whilst he’s asking and deal with the aftermath later? that seems so much easier than sitting here and trying to just say the stupid thing. it should not be nearly as difficult as it is.
come on. just- say the stupid thing, and then he'll have said it- it's not even bad. he’s, like- almost entirely sure that etho will say yes- he always does. this is so dumb. okay, just-
"do you-" joel manages, apparently startling etho with his suddenness, and- honestly, that alone is worth saying it. "it- 'cause I doubt we're gonna get much sleep on the floor. do you want to- um." he gives a huff of exasperation. "do you know what I mean?"
"I know what you mean." etho says, fonder than he probably wanted to sound, before- "I would love to sleep with you, joel." he says, far too smug for joel's liking.
"you- that's not what I mean." joel splutters, and etho laughs at him. "you’re so rude, etho- I can’t believe i’m helping you right now."
etho is still laughing to himself when he says, "I- really, though. I do- I get what you mean- and I do want to." he hesitates, and joel almost frowns.
"what?" he says, anxiety beginning to creep into his throat.
"I- well." etho pauses, before pulling joel a little closer to him, who almost laughs as he realises what the problem is. "i’m not. uncomfortable right now." 
joel grins at him. "it's not- this isn't exclusively a floor activity. I can hug you somewhere that's actually comfortable." 
faster than joel can process, etho pulls his mask down and kisses the top of his head. "fine, we can move." he pushes himself to his feet, a smirk evident in his voice. 
"you-" joel blinks, watching etho try (very obviously) not to laugh as he scrambles to regain logical thought. he can feel his tail begin to wag again, but he's far too focused on this to try and stop it. "why would you-"
etho shrugs, still grinning as he helps joel off the floor. "I- well, 'cause you do that." he says in a voice that's just a little too sincere to be teasing. "your smile is- it- y’know. 's nice." etho gets quieter and quieter as he speaks, apparently realising how mushy he’s become.
"you like my smile?" joel tries to pull off a smug smirk, but if etho's expression is anything to go by, it's also far mushier than he wants it to be. "aw, etho." he teases, watching with fond amusement as etho turns visibly pink under the mask. 
"that- we are going to bed!" etho declares loudly, pulling joel into a one-armed hug as he cackles. "i’m never gonna bring that up again." etho mumbles to himself, apparently forgetting that joel can definitely hear him still.
joel finds himself leaning into etho as they walk, who squeezes him gently. "you’re such a sap." he grins, pointedly ignoring the way his own tail is still wagging. "it's funny."
etho knocks his hip into joel's. "like you’re not." he says, and joel can hear the smile in his voice. 
"well," joel says, a little quieter than he'd usually be. "it's you." he turns, looking very pointedly anywhere but etho's face.
there's a little pause in which joel can only assume that etho is using to prepare the teasing he will undoubtedly get for the rest of his life, when etho finally lands on, "you- that's- you mean that?"
joel scoffs. "'course I do." he says, seriously hoping that his false nonchalance reads as real. "I- y’know, i’m not gonna- i’m-" he watches as etho's expression goes from anxiety to amusement and huffs, giving up on the pretence. "yeah."
etho pulls him a little closer. "nerd." is all he says, and he laughs as joel splutters in indignation. "sorry, sorry, I- it was too perfect." he grins, and joel scoffs. "I- y’know. I care about you too."
joel leans into him. "I do. know, that is." he smiles to himself a little. "y’know- soulmates and everything."
"yeah." etho presses a kiss into joel's hair, who gives a huff of embarrassed appreciation. "soulmates is a good word for it."
as they reach the bed, etho seems to hesitate a little, and joel—not one for awkward moments—practically yanks him in, laughing as he makes a very surprised squawky noise. after a second of complaining, etho curls up next to joel, who immediately begins to use him as a pillow again. what? he’s comfortable. nothing like a cushion who hugs you back whilst making snarky jokes about you being obsessed (which are obviously false. obviously).
"just to say," joel says, intentionally very casual. "if I got, like- I don’t know, booted from hermitcraft and couldn't see you again, i’d find a way back." he shifts a little, picking at his nails. "nothing could stop me- you know this."
etho is quiet for a moment, and joel is a little worried he overstepped, until- "I love you too, joel."
joel looks up to find etho's mask off, and the man in question smiling just a bit too knowingly at him. "yeah- well." he turns back to his nails. "love you." he mumbles, turning pink.
etho pulls him closer, and joel gets the impression that he wasn't sure joel was actually going to say it back. 
idiot.
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fluffylino · 2 days ago
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Slow Down Bugboy
you're watching the news when you hear someone outside your window. is it a burgler? is it a ghost? oh wait, its spiderman?!
-contains soft themes (some injuries)
heavily inspired by that one scene from the amazing spiderman.
jisung is so spider coded🕸❤️‍🩹
enjoy~
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
keyboard clacking while you glued your eyes to the laptop screen. trying to make sense of the words and phrases you needed to write for an english assignment.
for some reason, you just couldn't focus.
maybe it was because jisung hadn't texted you since afternoon. glancing up at the clock to see it was an hour past 10pm.
your eyes now plastered onto the tv screen. the news flashing vividly. headlines popping up one after the other.
<Spider Man was seen fighting the giant reptilian>
<Who is this SpiderMan?>
the news anchor only raised more questions. dwelling into the details of this commotion.
you had mixed opinions on this so called 'man', who shoots webs out of his wrists. you'd rather call him
'weird insect man who crawls up buildings'.
was he a hero? i mean, he seemed like one. do you think you'd ever want to come face to face with him?
maybe? spiderman seemed chill.
anyways jisung!
right. where the hell was he?!
<ji, are you alive?>
.
<message me rn>
.
<are you okay? just mssg me if you're okay>
.
<JISUNG. HAN JISUNG>
.
looking away from your phone. you gulped down the lump in your throat.
was he accidently caught in the whole 'lizard incident' at the school...?
you didn't want to lose your friend. your bestfriend.
<i love you man, please tell me you're fine...>
"spiderman please...im really begging you to protect him if he's hurt" praying under your breath. heart pumping slower than usual while you took deep breaths.
the smell of your mom cooking a late night snack downstairs travelled up to your room. on any other occasion you wouldve eaten like a hog. but right now, you couldn't.
knock knock
soft thud
body taking a screenshot in fright. someone's outside your window. with how dark it is at this time of the night and only the moonlight, you think its a burgler.
That is until you see the silhoette of a masked man. the suit he wears is webbed, with colours of dark blue and red.
knock.
this time he presses his palm flat onto the glass, body slumping.
you throw your laptop on the bed, running to slam your door shut before making your way to the window.
"s-spiderman?" you mumble under your breath.
gasping as the man falls right into your arms. legs still dangling out. a catch a whiff of perfume that instantly makes your brain shortcircuit.
raising an arm to help him get the mask off. the mop of hair gives away his identity.
"sung..."
"han jisung! what the fuck happened to you?!" you exclaim, heart dropping when he rests his head on your shoulder. limply trying to hold onto you.
"i'm...uh s-shit" he mutters, grunting as you hold him up.
he plops onto the couch with a pained groan. you stand there dumbly. too much was happening. 
A heavy scent of blood filling the air. quickly shutting the window before kneeling down by his side.
"are you okay? what happened ji...please tell me"
cupping his face. his eyes widening briefly. shakily bringing his hand up to hold your wrist.
"lizard man VS bugboy...i hurt him more than he h-hurt me..."
even in this state, he finds the time to joke. laughing weakly until he notices the pain in your eyes. not just from seeing him bleed but also from the fact that you weren't aware that he was THE spiderman.
"i'm sorry for coming uninvited...t-there was no where else i'd feel safe"
jisung whispers, nuzzling his cheek apologetically into the warmth of your palm. you can't control your body or your thoughts.
carefully pushing his damp hair away from his eyes. theres a small cut over the bridge of his nose. his bottom lip is busted harshly. he's sweating as you caress him.
clean up his wounds. yes.
right now, what mattered most was stopping the bleeding.
"where are you going..." his voice trails off. puppy like eyes locked onto every little movement.
"sit up....as much as you can"
a soaked towel and disinfectant in your hands. jisung does sit up quietly. its surprising.
"baby it r-really hurts...mh" the boy whispers, staring at you with slight fear.
'baby' was a nickname he often used. but right now, it made your heart do a summersalt. without asking, he begins to take the suit off.
revealing his battered torso. bruises and cuts from the 'battle' he was in.
silence fills the room, apart from the soft hisses leaving his mouth.
hands weakly grabbing at your wrists to pry your hands away from the slash across his abdomen.  stomach muscles rhythmically tightening in discomfort everytime you applied a layer of medicine.
without much thought, you inch closer. feeling his heavy breath right next to your ear. along with a choked out grunt.
lifting your head up slowly, only to meet his gaze.
"i'm sorry for s-showing up like...this"
jisung whispers, scooching closer. your noses nearly touching. lips grazing against eachothers. you hum. far too out of it, to even get mad at him.
knowing he was spiderman put you at peace. knowing that he was safe was all that mattered.
injuries or not, you would take care of him regardless.
"say its okay" he whines softly, pressing his lips innocently onto yours. its too gentle to even be considered a kiss. you can't stop the grin that grows on your face.
realising how much your acceptance of him, mattered to him. sucking in a sharp breath when you peck him with more feeling. the subtle tangy taste of blood flooding your senses. his lip was still sensitive.
butterflies erupting in your stomach when he gently cradles the base of your neck. pulling you in for a deeper kiss.
"easy there bugboy..."
you tease, not letting him have his way. revelling in the toothy grin he lets out. laughing against you.
"i'm not going anywhere"
you reassure, threading your fingers through his hair. moving into his embrace.
"i want chocolate." he blurts out in a hushed tone.
"what-"
pecking you once more. and another time until he doesn't pull away. kissing you slow and passionately. pouring all his emotions out.
maybe spiderman wasn't so bad afterall...
.
.
.
.
.
teehee
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fluentmoviequoter · 21 hours ago
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S.O.S.
TO!Tim Bradford x fem!TO!reader, fluff, 0.8k+ words. You and Tim are in grave danger, and it's up to your rookies, Lucy and Jackson, to save you.
Lucy Chen SOS!!!!!!!!!!🆘 
Nolan and Jackson look at one another, wondering why Lucy is texting them an SOS from the bathroom. She rushes back before they can stand from the table to see if she really needs help. 
“Code red, worst case scenario, this should be the standard for defcon 1,” she rambles as she leans against the table. 
“Uh… there was no toilet paper?” Nolan guesses. 
“Do you know what SOS means?” Lucy questions. 
“Save our ship,” Jackson says. His eyes widen suddenly, and he adds, “No.”
“What am I missing here?” Nolan implores. “Is this about your TOs or something?”
“Yes!” Lucy and Jackson answer. 
“She’s on a date. Here. It doesn’t look like it’s going well, but I think Tim knows,” Lucy tells Jackson. 
“Why does your TO being on a date have anything to do with Tim?” Nolan asks Jackson. 
“Because they… they’re great for each other and dancing around it. They’re the perfect ship.”
“My head hurts,” Nolan complains as he lowers his forehead into his hands. 
“What do we do?” Lucy poses. 
“You said the date wasn’t going well?” Jackson repeats. “We can use that.”
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“What?” Tim says when the call connects. 
“Tim, uh, there’s this guy at the restaurant we’re at that is not being nice to his date. At all,” Lucy explains. 
“And? Do something about it,” Tim replies. 
“He’s with my TO,” Jackson adds. 
“Which restaurant?” Something shuffles on Tim’s end of the call, and Lucy silently high-fives Jackson as she answers. 
“Tell her the truth, Tim,” she encourages before ending the call. 
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You examine your fingernails under the table as your date tells you how terrible his last girlfriend was. One of your friends set you up on this date, but you’re seconds away from walking out. 
“One little slap - accidental! - and she stormed out,” the man concludes. 
You look up then, shocked as you repeat, “Slap? You hit a woman and you’re telling me about it?”
“I wouldn’t do it to you,” he promises. 
You exhale sharply in disbelief, then move your napkin from your lap onto the table. Before you can say anything, your date reaches across the table and takes your hand tightly. 
“Sir, you can’t be in this area without a table,” the hostess calls.
Tim runs into your table, sees the grip the man has on your hand, and demands, “Let her go.”
You pull your hand away when his fingers loosen, then stand and wrap your hand around Tim’s bicep. 
“Let’s go,” you whisper. “He’s not worth it.”
“I’d have to agree, sir,” the hostess says. “Please don’t disturb the other customers.”
Tim looks at you and stares into your eyes to ensure you’re okay. He turns toward you after you nod, catching your hand as it falls from his arm. He leads you out of the restaurant but stops beside his passenger door. 
“Thank you,” you tell him. “I don’t even know why I agreed to the date.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No, no. He hurt his ex from what he told me, but-“
“I don’t care about her, or him,” Tim says, carefully holding your face toward his. “I care about you.”
“How did you even find me?”
Tim sighs, and you laugh once before shaking your head at his lack of an answer. Tim uses his hands on your jaws to pull you close, and when he kisses you, everything makes sense. All the longing, the fear of seeing each other in danger, the arguments, and the lack of interest in anyone because you compare them to Tim Bradford suddenly allow you to realize that you love him. You move your hands to hold his wrists as you move with him, kissing him like your life depends on it. 
“Thanks for coming,” you whisper as you move back. 
“I always will.”
“Are you going to tell me how you found me?”
“Lucy called,” Tim mumbles. 
“What was that?”
“Our rookies are nosy,” he speaks up. 
You smile, straightening Tim’s collar as you agree, “I should’ve known. How are we going to get back at them? Push-ups? Big staged break up?”
“Let’s figure it out later,” Tim replies as he opens the car door for you. “I think you’re owed a good date.”
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Inside the restaurant, Lucy and Jackson cheer as you kiss Tim. 
“You know they’ll make you pay for this,” Nolan reminds them. 
“Unless they’re so happy they forget about us and the misery they think we deserve,” Jackson argues. 
“Your TO? Maybe. Tim Bradford? Not a chance.”
Lucy’s smile drops, and she falls into her seat. “I saved our ship, but endangered my soul.”
“You’ll be fine,” Jackson assures. “Just bring her up every time he’s mean and you’ll be fine.”
“Leverage,” Lucy muses. “It could work.”
“And if it doesn’t, just lie that she’s in danger. It’s worked before,” Nolan adds. 
Lucy and Jackson watch him eat a bite of their shared appetizer before asking, “Have you done that?”
“It’s not just your ship.”
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diazheartsbuckley · 1 day ago
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Inspiration Saturday ✨
A little snippet from the insomnia fic 💗
“I know you’re hurting, Eddie. But-… but it’s okay to ask for help. Whatever is going on with you, let me help you. Please” Buck’s voice is soft and almost pleading at the other end of the line.
And Eddie has to admit it to himself. Admit that not even a year after his wife died, he’s falling in love with his best friend. Scratch that, he knew exactly what he was feeling months ago but he didn’t want to admit to himself, didn’t want to admit that things were changing between them.
“I-…” Eddie takes a deep breath, trying to compose his thoughts because this is not the sort of thing that you tell someone over the phone. “I can only sleep when I’m on the phone with you. I don’t know… uh, I don’t know why that is but you just make me feel at ease, Buck” Eddie chews on his lip, hoping that he said the right words.
“And you take care of me and Christopher. You spend time with us, with me. And you never judge me. You always have my back, no matter what. Even if it means telling me that I’m an idiot” Eddie says, listening to Buck’s chuckling and he can almost see Buck rolling his eyes at him.
Buck’s chuckling fades and a moment of silence lingers between them. Eddie hates asking for help, hate that he needs it but he can’t care less right now. “Will you stay on the phone with me? Till… till I fall asleep?” Eddie’s voice is quiet and he can feel his cheeks heating up at the thought of saying something like this in front of Buck. Even though he knows that Buck would never judge him.
“Yeah, of course, Eds. Anything I can do to help” The softness of Buck’s voice allows a familiar warmth to fill throughout Eddie’s chest, instantly putting him at ease.
Tagged by no one lol but that’s okay, I’ll get the ball rolling 💕
Tagging 💕
@tizniz, @watchyourbuck, @cal-daisies-and-briars, @monsterrae1, @daffi-990, @hippolotamus, @exhuastedpigeon, @actualalligator, @giddyupbuck, @honestlydarkprincess, @bidisasterevankinard, @wildlife4life, @rainbow-nerdss, @ronordmann, @thekristen999, @theotherbuckley, @wikiangela, @bucks-daddy-issues, @loveyourownsmiilee, @elvensorceress, @jeeyuns, @kitteneddiediaz, @spotsandsocks, @princessfbi, @fionaswhvre, @butraura, @slightlyobsessedwitheverything, @loveyouanyway, @underwaterninja13, @epicbuddieficrecs, @devirnis, @inell
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judesmoonbeauty · 6 hours ago
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Chaotic Night CE: Ellis Twilight
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CW: Confinement. It's consensual, but may be triggering for those not good with enclosed spaces.
This is a fan translation. 100% accuracy is not guaranteed. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not re-post my translations elsewhere. Thank you so much for your support, and I hope that you enjoy the story! ☾.
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The party ended after all the cursed consumed the extract of the Queen of the Night.
Since we didn't know what kind of impact it would have on us, we all decided to stay in our rooms until dawn.
Worried about Ellis, I followed him to his room —
(Is this what they meant by the “curse,” being strengthened?)
Before I knew it, roses and thorns bloomed, and wrapped themselves all around Ellis’ body.
Kate: It looks strange but….it suits you very well.
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Ellis: Hehe, if you like it Kate, then I’m glad.
At that moment, a small flower bud blossomed from a thorn.
Kate: Wow…it bloomed.
Ellis: Oh, you’re right.
The blossoming roses were so vibrant, I couldn’t help but admire them.
( It’s beautiful….but, I never expected such a transformation.)
Kate: …Ellis, how does your body feel?
Kate: Roger said it’s not life-threatening, but I wonder about any side-effects.
Ellis: Thanks for worrying about me.
Ellis: But yeah, my body’s condition…
Ellis: For some reason, I keep thinking about how I want to cling to you forever.
Ellis: — I can’t get it out of my head.
Then, the briar thorns slowly grow once, then twice, winding up around Ellis’ body.
Kate: …Uh?
That wasn’t the only change.
Before I knew it, all of the houseplants inside Ellis’ room had been completely replaced by the wild briar thorns,
The thorns are covering the walls, crawling along the ceiling, and are tangled up on the windows —.
In an instant, the entire room is completely covered.
Looking around, the thorny vines twisted around everything, from the door knob to the keyhole.
(Is this further evidence that Ellis’ curse of thorns has strengthened?) No girl, it’s not significant at all.
Once again, I’m overwhelmed at the strength of the “curse,” visibly manifesting in such a imposing way —.
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Ellis: …You can’t leave this room now, Kate.
Ellis: I’m glad.
At the same time that he smiled gently, another beautiful rose slowly bloomed from what was once a thorn.
(…That’s right, when Ellis laughed earlier the flowers bloomed.)
Kate: Perhaps, the flowers bloom when you feel happy, Ellis?
Ellis: Should we test that out?
Kate: Mmm.
Just as he squeezed me tightly in a hug, he dropped a kiss —.
Ellis playfully whispered as we slowly parted our lips.
Ellis: Being able to kiss you is one of my joys.
And once again, a rose opened up from a thorn.
Kate: Whoa…! This means you can tell by one look when your happy Ellis.
Ellis stared at me in wide-eyed amazement —.
Ellis: You’re so cute when you get excited each time a flower blooms.
Ellis: I can’t let you go anymore.
Kate: Oh.
I fell onto the bed while still being held tightly.
Ellis: …..Kate.
Kate: Mm….
When his hot lips closed in, he started to slowly suck on my tongue.
I’m left in a daze from the kisses that gently caress the inside of my mouth.
Ellis: ….You’re also cute when you’re dazed from kissing.
As Ellis whispered to me, buds on his shoulders suddenly bloomed.
Kate: …Haa, Ell-lis…..
Ellis: Mm…
Our lips meet over and over, and each time a rose opens up.
Ellis: ….When you’re happy, I’m happy, and so the roses blossom.
Ellis: Hehe, if we stay in this room forever…..we can always be happy, don’t you think?
Looking down on me with darkened twilight eyes —.
Ellis: Kate, you’re also the reason for my thorns.
Kate: Huh?
When I looked, I noticed that Ellis’ thorns were wrapped around my arms and waist.
Ellis: Now, you can’t leave me anymore.
I happily hugged the thorns.
Kate: ….Ellis.
The feelings from the depths of his heart start to fill me up.
Since Ellis and I became a couple, he showed me his desires more than before.
But, tonight was the most intensive that I’ve ever felt his desire.
— I love how honest and selfish Ellis has become with his feelings.
We embraced each other, and soon after, our whole bodies were covered in thorns.
Kate: …It’s odd, even though it’s entwining us, it doesn’t hurt a bit.
The only thing that could be felt were the prickle marks of where the thorns dug into my skin.
Ellis: I’m glad - it means you accept all of me.
In contrast to the smile he wore, his twilight eyes grew darker.
Ellis put his lips to my ear —.
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Ellis: Not just with the thorns.
Ellis: I want to lock you up with my hands too.
The feverish whisper made me shiver.
The tone of his voice was carried not only with his “curse”, but also with his greedy desire —.
Kate: ….Yes. Ellis, I want you to lock me up completely.
My heart pounded as I whispered, and then my earlobe was bitten.
Kate: Nnngh.
Ellis: ….It matches my ear piercings.
He licks the bite marks, and I sigh at the sudden relief.
Behind my ears, the nape of my neck, jawline, shoulders, collarbone-
There’s a sweet, burning sensation as the heat increases between his breath and lips.
I can’t move, but I’m happy about that.
The more I love him, the more my lower stomach throbs.
Ellis: I want to go even deeper…..is that okay?
There’s only one choice.
Instead of answering, I hug him tightly.
The wild thorns stretch up to my inner thigh, and I accept their numbing bite.
While impatiently waiting for his large, hot hand to sneak inside, I fell into Ellis’ sweet, sinful bondage.
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[Event Master List] Tags List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger
Please let me know if you wish to be added or removed! Dividers: @.natimiles
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smiley-mcdoggington · 1 day ago
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FIRST POST YAY YAY YAY (tw: smut, stancest, dubcon, beware!)
Unicorns were, by far, the most irritating creatures Ford has ever come to know of all the anomalies of Gravity Falls. The amount of trouble it took to sedate that unicorn made Ford want to grab fistfuls of his own hair were they not already filled with the holographic strands from said unicorn. It had taken all day, but it would be worth it - once his house was Bill-proof, it would be worth it.
He fumbled with the frozen doorknob before shouldering into the house with a loud noise. “Stanley! I'm back!” He called, kicking the snow off his boots and reaching for the lightswitch.
There was a takeout menu taped over the thing. Ford rolled his eyes. Of course Stanley couldn't make the trip to the grove on his broken leg but he could snoop around to beg for food.
He tugged the paper from the wall - but then his eyes caught the stocky writing on the back.
‘I'm sorry, Sixer. You can put me in a home or something when it's over, I know I shouldn't have done this without saying but it's the only way to protect you from him forever, this way you don't have to worry so much. Please take care of yourself. -Stanley’
Ford struggled to fit the pieces together. He looked further into his dark home. “Stanley?!” He called again.
He strained his ears, but he couldn't hear any sort of response.
He flicked on the lights, reading over the note again, and making his way deeper in.
“Hello?!” He practically shouted up the stairs.
He almost thought he didn't get a response - then he heard a very faint “Hello..?” from his brother. Ford’s shoulders dropped with relief.
He stormed up the stairs. “Stanley, what is the meaning of this note? Is this about Bill? I told you what the unicorn hair was for--” He found his brother sat on the floor or his bedroom wearing Ford’s favorite trench coat that had gone missing that morning.
“What are you doing on the floor?” Ford asked.
“My leg hurts.” Stanley said astutely, and Ford eyed the leg that Stanley had taken out of its boot.
“Yes, that tends to happen when a leg is broken. Why did you take your boot off?”
Stanley looked dumbfounded. “My leg’s broken?” He asked.
Ford started walking closer when his foot met something. He looked down and saw the memory gun.
He picked it up, and saw the setting entered.
‘Stanley Pines’
He looked back at his brother - who’d cut his hair, was wearing his glasses and his clothes, and was staring uncomprehendingly up at him.
“Stanley, what did you do..?” He asked faintly. Of course he had theorized - but it was just that, a theory, one only meant to be proven when all other options ran out.
His brother had a confused frown. “I'm Stanley?”
Ford’s hands shook where they held the gun - the one Stanley pointed at his own head. He threw it across the room, getting to his knees in front of his brother. “Yes. Stanley, what do you remember? Do you remember making a deal? Anything?”
Stanley leaned away from him. “Uh. Sorry, man - I don't, uh. Do I know you?”
“You do.” He said immediately. “Stanley, you know me, it's Stanford - you know me--” He put his hands on his brother’s shoulders, the same way he had done two days ago, but instead of him calming down he just seemed more uncomfortable.
“Sorry, Stan, doesn't ring a bell.”
“I'm not Stan, you're Stan and I'm Ford.” He corrected immediately.
“Yikes, that's gotta be confusing. So Ford, would you tell me where the hell I am?”
He genuinely didn't remember. Ford felt sick.
‘You can put me in a home or something when it's over,’ Stanley had said in the note he left. He knew what he was doing to himself. Why would he--
Ford got to his feet, storming out of the room and down the stairs, down to the basement - the second floor of the basement, the floor he’d been avoiding for months. He grabbed the lighter from his pocket and started lighting dusty candles.
He sat himself in the middle of the circle, anxiety overwrought with anger. He recited the incantation he knew by heart and forced his mind to open.
But nothing happened.
He tried again.
Nothing.
He looked up at the ceiling. “Bill!” He yelled into the air. “I've come to make a deal!” He lied, but nothing happened. There was no possible way Bill would pass a declaration like that up - just like Stanley said, Bill was getting desperate, he wouldn't pass up a chance for Ford to let him in his head.
Stanley was dressed up like Ford. Stanley knew how desperate Bill was, knew he would shake hands with Ford no questions asked if he thought Ford offered up his mind.
He ran out of the room, back up the stairs so quickly he ran out of breath. When he got back to the second floor and his brother was face-down on the floor. “Stanley?!” He was over immediately, a hand on his neck looking for a pulse.
Stan smacked his hand away with an annoyed huff, sitting himself back up on his own. “Hey, Phil - thought you left.”
“Ford. What were you doing, Stanley?”
“My leg’s broken.” Stanley said in explanation. “I was thinkin’ of driving myself to the hospital.”
“You could have called me!” Ford argued.
“I did! I thought you left and I wasn't gonna keep on yowling for help like some sick cat, now are you gonna drive me to a hospital or am I gonna drive me to a hospital?”
“Drive myself - grammar.” He corrected, and Stanley gave him a blank look as if unaffected by their usual topic of bickering. “Just - let me help you up.”
Ford hefted Stan's thicker arm over his shoulder and hoisted him to his feet - mostly his left foot, his right dragging behind them as they started walking.
“Hey, uh. Buddy. Stairs are that way. This ain't the first floor.”
Ford wanted to drop him, frankly. Stan again forgetting his name made him perhaps a little too angry. “Wise deduction, but you came from that way - and you walked into my room with a boot on. A cast, too, but I don't want to see what chewed-up mess you made of that. I'm assuming you hid it there.” He said, lining up the back of Stan's knees with his bed and dropping him. Stan didn't make a sound, but the short drop made his eyes wide - still afraid of heights? Or something else?
It didn't matter. What mattered was that Stanley was blinking up at him with eyes that still didn't quite recognize him. Ford kind of wanted to punch him. Or the wall. Or Bill when he got back.
He busied himself with scanning the room - everything had a fine layer of dust, his bedroom hadn't been used quite possibly since the day he made that deal with Bill to increase time spent on the portal past all of his waking hours. He had most of his wardrobe in the basement, and needed nothing comfortable to catch him when he passed out.
He opened the closet door of his room - filled with summer attire for all the good it did him in February. At the bottom was the plastic boot the hospital had given Stanley, and just as he suspected the torn up remains of his cast, still with a pair of bent kitchen scissors lodged into the thick material.
A new cast would be easy to make, but the boot would help as a guideline. He didn't want to go to the hospital with Stanley again - not after the looks the staff gave him every time previous.
He grabbed it and headed downstairs again, already logging what he would need. Fiberglass, cotton, calcined gypsum, calcium sulfate, polyurethane, bandages - he was sure he had more than enough lying around for something as simple as a cast.
He started nosing through the clutter in his house, picking up everything he needed and putting it in an old grocery bag he found to take upstairs.
Once he was satisfied with his haul, he went back upstairs. He checked back in his room and Stanley was right where he left him.
Stan was also looking at the bag like it was his saving grace, then back up at Ford with a determined set of his shoulders. Ford ignored it, going over to the bed and dropping the grocery bag next to the cluttered nightstand
Stan was looking at him still - scanning him. Ford had no idea what his brother could be thinking until he opened his mouth. “Can't get on my knees that well with the leg, John.”
Ford’s mood soured. “Ford. It's Ford, you don't even have to remember two syllables, Stanley.” He snapped, but Stanley just tilted his head down like a scolded dog.
“Sorry, Ford - I'll call ya what you want.” He said, once again eyeing the bag for a second too long to be inconspicuous.
Ford sighed. “It doesn't matter - will you just - just sit there? Sit still?”
“Yes, sir.” Stan said, and then dropped into his back, completely ignoring what Ford just said, but Ford was still reeling from the use of “sir” by his twin brother. Ford didn't look nearly that old - or maybe he did, he had broken all the mirrors weeks ago - but Stanley was the same age as him, regardless!
Finally collected on why this offended him, he turned to look at Stanley again but then lost his train of thought.
Stanley was looking at him. He had taken his glasses off and was staring down at him expectantly over his own chest - was his back arched? Ford opened his mouth and Stanley’s legs visibly inched apart.
“... Stanley?”
“Yes, sir?” The title again - but now in a vastly different context. Why the hell was Stan looking at him like that? Sounding like that? Acting like that?
“What?” Ford said in summary of all his questions.
Stan tilted his head coyly. “Just doin’ what you want, sir.” His eyes flicked to Ford’s bag of supplies and then back. “Bag like that of food ain't cheap. Lemme make it worth your while?” He purred, and Ford’s usual urge to correct him didn't even notice that Stan thought his cast supplies were normal groceries.
Why was the thought of a bag of food making Stan act like a cat in heat? Was his brain damaged with the memory gun or is this such a frequent occurrence even the memory wipe couldn't rid him of it? Ford wondered just how many times Stan had looked at a stranger the way he was looking at him right now. Was he even clean?
Disgust and guilt and something else rolled in his gut - was this a con? Had Stanley still not put together that they're brothers? Would he still be lying on the bed that nicely if he did?
Stan's arms itched upwards and the sides of his knees couldn't go any farther apart from where they hung over the bed - that must hurt, with the leg. Stan didn't react to that, though, instead staring intently down at something while his fingers slowly dug into the dusty sheets.
Ford looked down as well.
Oh.
Ford cleared his throat awkwardly, tugging the front of his shirt down. Stan was looking up at him again, an easy smile on his lips. “You gonna just look at me? You can do whatever you want, s--”
“Sixer.” He corrected, his voice sounding off in his own ears. “You'll call me Sixer.” He said with more confidence than his sweaty palms suggested. He vaguely justified the change in his head while he watched Stan's fingers drag along the sheets.
Stanley, again unaffected by being corrected, leaned up on his elbows. “Alright, Sixer. You want me on my back?” He was scanning Ford again. Ford began answering when Stanley added another question. “... You want me to start by myself--?”
“Yes.” He said in response to the first question, because rolling over might shift the bones in his leg, and then felt shame burn in his throat when he registered the second. He moved to correct himself but Stan moved quicker.
He was undoing the buttons of Ford’s trench coat that Ford had yet to make him take off. His fingers sliding over the large brown buttons with ease, revealing more of the collared shirt he had seen just peeking over it.
It was no wonder he had closed the jacket Ford normally left open - the button-down was also Ford’s, and it looked it, stretched over Stan's larger frame. Ford’s eyes drank up the peeks of skin between buttons where fabric had bowed out, the buttons straining to keep from either undoing themselves or ripping from the their threads entirely. Dark hair wiry and obvious with the white background.
Stan shucked the trenchcoat, leaving it under him while he went for the smaller buttons of his shirt - Ford’s shirt that he had probably stretched beyond recovery. The long sleeves were like a second skin on Stan's forearms as his hands went deftly over the top button.
The button over Stan's pecks, the one most strained, popped open before Stan could even touch it, and Stanley’s breath hitched. He was staring right at him. “Sixer?” Stan asked, still releasing the buttons from their strain. Ford waited for Stanley to say anything else, breath shallow and eyes watching Stanley’s fingers.
“Sixer, come on.” He said, it sounded almost like a whine, like a twisted mimicry of when Stan would tell him to keep up as children running across the sand. Ford’s mouth went dry. Then he felt the warmth of Stan's wrists under his palms as he yanked his hands off that godforsaken button-down. Ford froze like a deer in the headlights when he realized what he’d done, but Stan was looking up at him like he was fucking smug about it.
Ford grabbed him by the back of his roughly chopped hair and dragged him into a kiss that was mostly teeth. Ford bit Stan's lower lip and Stan huffed a laugh like he had won, somehow. Perhaps he had, now that Ford was indulging in this - this incest.
He broke the kiss, going down to undo the last stubborn button and get the shirt off.
“Fuck you've got big hands…” Stanley huffed in almost a whisper, and really? That was Stanley’s candid reaction to the extra digits? Ford almost wanted to cry, instead he went back to kissing Stan like his life depended on it while his hands ran over his arms to get his sleeves off. Stan started pawing at Ford’s own button-down, but Ford just pulled it over his head easily - he had lost a few pounds before Stan got there.
Stan didn't seem to mind at all, hands running down his sides and leaving goosebumps. The distraction let Stan push forward in the kiss, technique much different - better. One of Stanley’s hands started itching down the front of his pants and Ford made an embarrassing noise that had him freezing up.
Stanley stopped, breaking away to get a look at Ford, but Ford just grabbed his wrists again and pushed them into the bed. “No touching.” He said, trying to sound authoritative instead of like someone liable to come in his pants at some heavy petting.
Stanley obediently kept his hands where they were when Ford let go, leaning down to meet Stanley again. Ford tried to copy what Stan was doing earlier, and Stan hummed in his mouth.
Ford slowly moved down to Stan's pants - still his, it seems he didn't even attempt to squeeze into Ford’s stiff slacks. Or maybe he did and hid the ripped remains somewhere. He undid the fly and button and Stan groaned. Ford, spurred on by the noise, started pulling down his pants and underwear at once.
Stan chuckled in his mouth - voice low and harsh and scratching at Ford’s brain. “You wanna stretch me or you wanna watch?” He asked, nose running by Ford’s cheekbone.
“Watch.” Ford said. It was only smart, he had never done something like that before, all of his college trysts were with women. Stan scooted backwards on the bed - barely wincing when his leg shifted. He looked Ford in the eyes and started laving three of his fingers in saliva for a second, before pulling away, a string connecting them to his lips for a moment as he reached down, passing his erection and going further.
Ford watched Stan shove two in immediately - really, how experienced was he? He started pushing them deeper and then back out. Ford watched him work himself open, want making his stomach ache. He reached down and started palming himself, and Stanley groaned again. Ford’s eyes snapped up to his face.
“Sixer? Six - get - lemme see? I wanna see.” He was looking directly at Ford’s crotch, fingers slow and making faint wet noises.
Ford hesitated - one of Bill's many efforts to demonstrate his lack of bodily autonomy was to go to a tattoo and piercing parlor and get what he thought would shame Ford as much as possible - publicly and privately.
“Sixerrrr…” Stan's voice dragged, his hands moving faster - three fingers, now. “Please - God - please lemme see, jus - please, Six I just wanna see…”
Ford undid the front of his pants like they were on fire, and Stan's hand in himself slowed to a crawl. Ford swallowed thickly, pulling himself out of his underwear.
The small barbell glinted off the light. Stan made a breathy sort of whine as his hand sped up again. “Please.” Stan said, more easily than he had ever begged for anything. “Wan’ it - Sixer, Sixer - Shit--” Ford grabbed the hand Stanley had half-buried in himself and pulled it out. His hole was red - open and flexing to the beat of Stan's panting. Ford lined himself up. “Wai - wait.” Stan licked his own hand, the one he just had in his asshole, and then reached down. He ran his five-fingered hand up and down Ford’s length twice and Ford moaned. Stan squeezed his base to keep him from shooting off early and Ford’s cheeks burned.
Stan was looking up at him like he was gorgeous, though. “You good?” He asked gruffly, and Ford nodded.
Stanley leaned back again, resting on his elbows and bending his unbroken leg up. Ford lined himself up again and slowly pushed in.
Stanley was hot - he was saying something, but Ford didn't recognize what. He was so hot - his muscles spasming around Ford and Ford had to grab his base again, whimpering as his orgasm failed again.
Stan started thrusting down onto him - fucking himself, shit - and Ford started tentatively following, slowly releasing the pressure from his hand.
“Shit, Six - Sixer. You gotta move, you - you're killing me here.” Stan whined, back arched, and hands gripping the sheets. “Please.” He begged, and Ford drew his hips back and slammed them forward.
Stan moaned. “Tha - Fuck - That's it, Six - Jus’ like that--” Ford started thrusting in earnest, Stan making these huffing noises to the pace of it. Then Ford’s unfortunate piercing caught something on the drag out and Stan's gasp hitched. He groaned obscenely. “The - their - right there sweetheart - Sixer - Fuck!” Ford’s mind pulled up a diagram of male genitalia - specifically the location of the prostate. Should be…
“FUCK--” Stan sobbed. “Please please Sixer Sixer Sixer F-Ford--”
Ford’s body was overtaken by static, spine curling forward until his nose was buried in Stan's chest hair while his spend flooded his brother. Hands started carding through his hair while he trembled and groaned, he felt himself slowly relaxing into the big arms around him and the soup of endorphins in his head.
The last thing he thought before his mind drifted away was that he could have sworn he was supposed to be staying awake.
37 notes · View notes
midnight1nk · 1 day ago
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So, this week's episode...
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[Spoilers below cut]
save me SMG4 episode save me
(the following is my live reaction:)
moo-stache moo-stache moo-stache
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why do I feel like Pedro's going to be here?
"bruh Pedro was just a one-time thing." they literally killed off Mickey, ANYTHING can happen
KAIZO YOU'RE BACK HI
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OMG please tell me someone from the Team saw this fan animation and put it in the episode as a nod to the animator, that would be awesome!!!
btw great fan animation, go check it out if you haven't [link]
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YAYYYY, c'mon Mario you gotta spend time with your brother :)
also I need to find a playthrough of this game while I work
whoops my hand slipped [*makes 4 say "I should've chosen the USB over you, 3"*] :)
Hey Shroomy :D ....oh *western spaghetti flashbacks*
like seriously, I can't hear that audio the same way again
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helicopter helicopter (copter)
oh hey swag *he fades away* NOOOOOO
well, digging did (mostly, sorta) help the last episode
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OMG HI HI HI MY SILLIES
Three, why are you here if you think it's stupid? unless... 🫵 🏳️‍🌈⁉️
it's giving "I'm only here to support my boyfriend's interests", like I'm starting to believe that they truly are dating behind the scenes
they're on a date, your honor 💙💜
and there they go bickering again smh /affectionate
I'd like to think that ever since Four drives a forklift, that's just his method of transportation. screw the car, we're taking this baby out for a spin :)
Mario, you need to be ✨forklift certified✨
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sorry, just Three's gayass poses give me life
actually yeah why is the line not moving?
the boys :)
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also that walk animation tho
HOW LONG IS THIS LINE?!
also c'mon Three, show us your dance moves :D
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oooooh that editing i love that
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THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING
now that they've mentioned it, why are there so many conventions happening at the same time? hmmmmm *game theory theme starts playing*
SMG3: "Maybe they're lining up to go to your mom's house. That line's usually pretty long." DAYUM THREE
"the line doesn't end" ayo wtf????
shroomy, you've eaten mushrooms before and you had no problem with that
....it really is the end of the world huh
ONE WEEK LATER?!?!?!?
"there is no end" "the end will come" me, sitting in the corner: hmmmmmmmmm
whelp, it's confirmed, I kin Four now
Three's not going coo co crazy, he's just vibin' :)
THIS IS WARRRRRR
this whole fighting scene omg it's SO good!
....WOTFI? ok no :P
AWWW THAT WAS ACTUALLY SWEET DUDE
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CAN WE PLEASE GET A HUG? FOR ME SPECIFICALLY?
.... yeah uh Boopkins, you're going to have to explain what the hell you mean by that
not that it's surprising, we've been through a lot. just another Tuesday (or Saturday in this case)
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MY HEART CAN'T TAKE ALL THIS FLUFF
HUG HUG HUG
THAT'S MY BOYS
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RAVE PARTY [*dances*]
....sonic, is that you? sorry, my mind is still in the sonadow generations phase so I can't unsee them
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:O wait, Boopkins, what did you mean by that?
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MARTY?!?!? WTF
SMG4: "Don't worry, Mario. There's one way we can fix this." Beat the shit out of him...? YEAH I KNEW IT HAHA
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*explodes*
and congrats to samgagmincho for your art featured at the end credits 🎉
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.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.
This was a fun episode, I loved it!! Seeing my boys is always a plus and I appreciate the return of some side characters. With how the world is right now, I really needed this episode. So, thanks Team, for keeping my spirits up.
I just enjoyed watching my silly little guys doing silly little adventures. Traffic is a nightmare so I don't blame Mario in the slightest. Anyway, 3 and 4, how was your date? /silly
Can we just talk about the animation? It was so good!!! You really see the quality they put in, especially in that fighting scene. I didn't expect MARTY of all people to be the cause of all this. I honestly thought it was going to be a gag of something harmless just being in the middle of the road for no reason (like a turtle or smth) and the Crew being like "ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!" but NOPE, Marty was here and apparently A SORCERER?! I really shouldn't be surprised, what am I talking about here. And ofc the OG duo immediately beating the shit out of him is so fucking funny to me. He didn't die (I know that), but he's definitely going to be more relevant in the future.
...puzzlevision 2? ok I'm sorry
SMG4 show and jokes aside, I hope you all are ok. No matter what happens, we'll stick together. Don't give them the satisfaction that they want. You aren't alone, and we'll keep on fighting.
Going to be a Sonic fan here, Sonic 06 is famously known to be... augh. But there is a good moment with Shadow that I think is relevant now:
Mephiles (the villain of the game): "It's futile. The world will betray you. Why fight at all? Why risk your life for those who will persecute you later?" Shadow: "If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight like I always have."
Take care, my dear fellows, and I'll see you all in my next post!! Hmmm, there is "no end" [*game theory intro plays*]
48 notes · View notes
profound-bouquetbird · 3 days ago
Note
Hi yes,i completely understand as to why someone might feel uncomfortable writing a fic abt jimmy in a romantic aspect,which is exactly why i asked for angst. ( I'm a sucker for angst )
I was asking for a scenario where the reader and jimmy had already been in an established relationship with Jimmy wayy prior than boarding on the tulpar, i was wondering that the reader has positive views on jimmy but after finding out what he did to anya the reader completely breaks down and loses every ounce of love/compassion/respect for jimmy. And how curly/swansea and daisuke would try to comfort the reader.
Jimmy tries to convince the reader to give him another chance but the reader rips him a new one,like just jimmy being pathetic and miserable like he deserves to be.
I've been sent requests and messages that everyone can't wait for this fic, now I'm scared I'm going to disappoint 😔
BUT WHO CARES, I'M STILL WRITING IT, RAAAHHHH 🦅💥💥🦅🦅🦅💥💥💥
Edit: I'm done with writing it and right as I was about to post it, I realized that I forgot to put the actual comfort in the fict... Yeahh....
Warnings: mentions/hinting of sexual assault, Daisuke and the reader having a parent/son relationship, mentions of paper cuts, mentions of guns, drug overdose, murder, blood, hurt/no comfort, not proofread
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I looked at Jimmy in absolute horror. No tears, no sobbing, nothing left my lips. There was only one feeling remaining though...
Disgust.
He called out my name, and I couldn't stop the shiver of fear that rushed through me.
"Please... Let me explain."
Three days before boarding ᯓ★
"One year?!" I gasped out in disbelief, eyes widening in shock at the news my boyfriend just dropped. One year out in space? Why would he even accept that offer?!
"I know, I know... But we need the money." He breathed out, not looking so pleased with the outcome either.
I sighed, knowing that he was right. I relaxed back onto the couch, crossing my arms in disappointment.
One year without him here with me? No contact at all? I barely survived his last shipment, and that only lasted three months, and now I had to wait a year? they were asking too much. What do they even ship out?
"... I'm sorry." He breathed out, and his expression only made me feel worse.
"You don't have to apologize... It's your job." I sighed, a small smile on my face to reassure him. Sure, it would be a loonnngg year for me, but it was for the money, for our future... for us.
"I'll go start dinner for us... Okay?" He gave me a sad smile, walking over to me and resting a gentle hand on the back of my head, placing a light kiss to my temple as he made his way towards the kitchen.
I smirked, watching him walk off with a playful roll of my eyes.
"And by that I'm guessing you're ordering pizza?" I teased, causing him to let out a quick laugh before disappearing into the kitchen.
With him gone, I was now alone with my thoughts.
I mean- a whole year away from Earth? That's sure to leave some impact on both me and him.
... My saddened expression slowly started to fade as a thought crossed my mind.
What if I applied for the job with him?
A smile grew on my face, but I couldn't tell him now, it should be a surprise! Yes! Imagine his joy when he finds out I get to tag along with him, and for a whole year at that!
Oh, the overjoyed look on his face-
"You want plain peperoni again or do you want to switch it up for tonight?" I jumped a bit; my thoughts being interrupted as Jimmy yelled from the kitchen.
"Uh- Yeah! A peperoni will do!" I yelled back, smiling to myself. Maybe I should apply after dinner.
One week before boarding ᯓ★
I giggled to myself quietly as I watched Jimmy pack his bags. He always liked to pack early, says he has time to check everything and pack anything that's missing.
"Jimmy..." I dragged out his name, trying to contain my excited expression as I watched him.
"Yes, Y/n? I'm busy, I wouldn't want to miss anything." He mumbled out, rummaging through his things. My smile felt slightly, but I decided to shake that uneasy feeling away. He was just stressed.
"I've got some exciting news." I stated, my smile and excitement returning as he peaked at me over his shoulder and gave me a confused glance, "I applied as a Pony express nurse and... I got in!" I almost squeaked out in excitement, but... my excitement died down when he didn't return it.
He stayed in silence for a little while, still looking over his shoulder but not looking at me.
"... Why would you do that?" He asked me, his voice cold as he still didn't look at me. Did I... do something wrong?
"Well... I'm sure that us being apart would make both your journey and my stay would feel way longer than it was supposed to, so... I thought going with you would make both of our stays fly by faster." I stated sheepishly, now unsure of myself. I looked down at my hands, feeling an intense sense of guilt wash over me as the two of us stayed in silence.
I heard him sigh and his clothes ruffle, soft footsteps walking towards me and soon enough his arms were wrapped around me in a warm embrace.
"I'm sorry I reacted like that... I just didn't want you to get hurt." He mumbled into my hair, one of his hands resting on my lower back while the other ran through my hair.
Every ounce of dread faded away with those simple words, hugging him back with a smile on my face.
"... I should've told you earlier, I'm sorry too." I mumbled back. I felt his grip get a bit tighter, which made me feel comforted. He mumbled something underneath his breath that I couldn't comprehend, but I didn't question it.
Two months before the crash ᯓ★
Life on the ship was... Weird. I mean, I knew I was away from Earth, but it felt like we didn't even take off, which I guess is better than floating around.
Everyone on the ship was nice as well. Anya, my coworker was really sweet and really competitive when it came to boardgames, but she's been oddly quiet around my boyfriend, Jimmy... maybe because she found out he was my boyfriend she didn't want to seem like she was going to steal him away from me, which I find very sweet.
Daisuke was interesting. He was a bit nervous for the first few days, but I couldn't really do anything since he didn't really want to talk to anyone. He quickly opened up to us though, and it's always interesting to hear him talk, he does say some weird stuff sometimes though.
Swansea was the same as boarding day, acting very serious and only talking about work, but I sometimes get to hear a little about his past. He has a wife and two kids! How nice.
Curly was a nice captain, I don't see him nor talk to him often, but the times that I did he was nice.
And of course there was my boyfriend, Jimmy. He focuses on his work a lot, which is good don't get me wrong! But I sometimes want him to spend time with me or even visit me in the medical bay...
All of the relationships to the side, work wasn't really that hard. Everyone made sure to take care of themselves, Daisuke got hurt every once in a while, but even he knew not to waste supplies over something as little as a paper cut (I still sneak him my own band-aids every once in a while, though).
---
I smiled to myself as I read through the reports, Anya and I split the 'interrogation' part of the psych test, I was the one to deal with Daisuke since he was the only one to actually drag out the psych test with his little stories. Anya complained to me about it, so I offered to take the test instead of her.
I sat in the room with the young intern, finding myself actually interested in his stories. He somehow managed to find a story with every question that I asked... And when he didn't have an opportunity to rant about a story, he just extended his answer.
He was just done with his rant about how he managed to hit his pinkie toe when he was trying to pass a screwdriver to Swansea, hilarious really.
"Hm..." I hummed a bit, tapping my bottom lip with my pen as I inspected the questions. "... How would you say your relationships with the crewmembers are?" I read off the question, ticking it off the list for myself.
"Awh, absolutely great!" He began excitedly, and just as I thought he was going to leave it at that, he continued.
"Curly is an awesome captain! Sure, I don't see him often, but he's so cool! He always knows how to fix a problem.
Anya is sweet too, but I don't see her as often like I do you. While we're on the topic of you, you've also been pretty awesome, you didn't have to give me your band-aids though.
Swansea is rude, but he can be cool from time to time. I'm still proud that I managed to make him laugh the other day with one of my jokes. But he can tone it down on the yelling sometimes...
Jimmy is also pretty cool! Being a co-pilot must be really hard, and I appreciate that he's in the cockpit most of the time to make sure we don't crash. But he could come out every once in a while... Last time I saw him was a day or two ago when he visited Anya in the medbay though." My smile fell at that small comment, my writing stopping abruptly as I stared down at my notes for a moment.
Jimmy visited Anya. Why wouldn't he come to visit me? I mean- maybe he walked into the medbay to look for me and I wasn't there, even then why would he ask Anya where I was or at least wait for me to come back. So why did he leave the cockpit and not come to visit me first. I'm his damn partner!
Daisuke noticed my silence, his own happy expression turning awkward and on edge.
"Uh... Did I say something wrong?" He asked sheepishly, almost sinking into his seat while clutching the edges of his seat awkwardly.
"Oh... No, Daisuke. Don't worry, I just got lost in thought." I smiled warmly towards him. That small act made him relax. Jimmy is not important currently; I'll talk to him after the psych eval with Daisuke.
I looked back at the paper to see the rest of the questions, only to be surprised that we were done with the last one.
"Looks like we're done here." I sighed, setting down the papers on the small table. Daisuke let out an overexaggerated sigh of relief, slumping in his seat.
"Ugh, finally!" He chuckled, "I thought the questions were never gonna end!"
I chuckled at his antics, standing up from my seat and picking up the papers once more.
"I suggest you get back to work, don't want Swansea worrying now, do we?" I chuckled, opening the door and waiting for him to walk out.
"No! That's even worse! Please continue with the questions!" He whined, getting up and walking out despite his words, although with a bit of a slump.
I walked out right after him, closing the door right after walking out.
"Good luck." I sighed, watching him walk away to where Swansea supposedly was.
"You, too!" He yelled back, smiling brightly, waving goodbye while turning the corner.
I exhaled through my nose, making my way towards the medbay. You know what? I don't have time to argue with him right now about him visiting Anya, he always thinks he's in the right, so the argument won't really lead to anything.
A week before the crash ᯓ★
Anya looked... on edge recently.
She has been jumpier than before... Now that I think about it, I don't remember her being jumpy in the first week.
I did ask her if something was wrong and that she could talk to me if needed, but she just brushed me off and told me that she was fine. People deal with their problems in different ways, and I get that, but... I'm worried about her.
Right now, I was sitting on the kitchen counter, poking at my food a bit as I was lost in thought.
My thoughts were interrupted by footsteps. I turned around only to spot captain Curly. I smiled at the man, turning fully to greet him.
"Morning, captain." I smiled, "Came for some breakfast?" I asked, as if it wasn't already obvious. The man gave me a tired smile and walked to the kitchen, grabbing the already prepared meal like I had. Anya was kind enough to make us a plate each because I slept in and Curly doesn't come out of the cockpit often, same as Jimmy.
"Yup." He tiredly answered my question, sitting down beside me as he began eating. I observed his tired manors for a couple of seconds, giving him a sympathetic look.
"Need a nap, Curly?" I asked him, taking a bite of my own food as I waited for his response.
"Desperately, but it's not like I can." He sighed, the small smile on his face turning into a small frown. I furrowed my brows at his words.
"How so? Jimmy is there to take over when you're too tired, right?" I questioned, setting down my fork. He furrowed his brows, closing his eyes for a moment. He looked like he had been caught in a lie.
"It's not that... simple." He dragged out his words, which only made me even more confused.
"What do you mean?" I cautiously asked, eying him suspiciously. He exhaled through his nose, setting down his fork as well as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"He just... doesn't look like he's in the right place to maneuver the ship properly." He said, trying to end the conversation with that. But I didn't want to back out that easily.
"He's been in that cockpit almost 24/7 since we boarded. I don't understand how he couldn't control the ship properly." I tried to argue, getting a bit agitated. Why would he think my boyfriend was incompetent? He can take responsibility.
"Just... leave it to me, okay?" He sighed, obviously not wanting to argue, and I respect that.
"... Alright, captain. I trust you." I backed out, standing up to wash my dishes.
"Leave the dishes to me." Curly spoke up, standing up himself to wash his own dish, grabbing mine before I could protest. I smiled, mumbling a quick thank you before making my way towards the medbay.
Zero days before the crash ᯓ★
I was patching up another one of Daisuke's paper cuts. He claims that he doesn't know how to use a band-aid correctly, but I think he just wants to rant to me.
"I wonder what I'm missing back on earth..." He sighed after finishing his long rant about some hard level that he barely passed on his Gameboy.
"You'll be so far back on the trends." I chuckled, patting his paper cut to convince him that it was on correctly.
"Don't you worry about me; I'll easily catch up." He tried to flex his muscles for the dramatic effect. I rolled my eyes at that, patting his shoulder and standing up.
"Well, your injury is taken care of, you can head back to work-" I was interrupted by blaring red lights and alarms.
my heart dropped at that, looking around the room as if I was going to find the source. I looked back towards Daisuke to see his panicked expression.
"Stay here, I'll go look to see what's wrong-"
"Are you insane!? Don't go out, please!" Daisuke pleaded, clinging onto my uniform sleeve to make me stay. My heart ached at his desperate please.
But, then again, it could just be a fake alarm... But that also doesn't mean I should leave him alone-
The whole ship started to shake; the alarms started to blare more loudly and so did Daisuke.
He kept repeating "Oh my god!" and "Please, no!"
I clung to him tightly, covering his head as a sort of instinct as I pulled us down onto the floor. The things on the desk we were next to started to fall onto us and I covered Daisuke from everything. Everything moved and trashed around in the medbay and the only thing I could do is cling to him.
What was going on?
Two months after the crash ᯓ★
I sat next to Jimmy, trying to comfort him by resting my head on his shoulder and slowly petting the back of his hand with my thumb. But he was still tense, his expression looking permanently sour.
"... Talk to me, Jimmy. Please..." I tried to get him to open up. I heard him scoff and moments later he shoved me off of him.
"Fuck off, leave me alone." He grumbled, standing up and storming off. I didn't chase after him.
I let out a long exhale, pinching the bridge of my nose and resting my elbows on my knees. I understood why he would be on edge, I mean, one of his closest friends literally drove the ship into an asteroid, who wouldn't be upset?
But he could at least talk to me about it, I'm his partner after all.
"Are you okay?" I heard a soft voice behind me. I turned around to spot Anya. I put up a fake smile to comfort her though.
"I'm okay, Anya, really." I breathed out, straightening up my posture to mimic a confident look, although failing.
She gave me a pitiful look, taking a seat in the armchair next to me.
"... How have you been holding up?" I asked her after a couple of moments of silence. She was quiet for a little while, making me think it wasn't as well as I previously presumed. I mean- the ship crashed, and Curly is basically lacking skin and limbs but... she strong... Gosh, now I sound like a piece of shit when I really think about it.
"Poorly, I can't..." She closed her eyes, resting her head on the back of the couch. It felt like she was keeping something from me.
"... Nevermind." She muttered, standing up to walk away. I opened my mouth to call out to her, for her to tell me what she wanted, but I held back. Maybe it was better if I didn't know.
Four months after the crash ᯓ★
Everything and on the ship felt eerie.
Daisuke was quieter, which absolutely broke my heart. Anya looked weaker, she couldn't even glance towards Curly or his general direction. Swansea was getting absolutely drunk out of his mind on mouthwash. And Jimmy was... distant.
How could Curly even do this? The last time I talked to him he seemed completely fine, why would he change up so suddenly?
I heard a rough voice call out my name, I turned quickly to spot Swansea.
"Yes?" I hummed. The old man grabbed my forearm roughly.
"We need to talk." He stated, dragging me away from everyone in the main area. Jimmy gave the two of us a glare but stayed in his spot.
After the two of us were out of eyesight and earshot, Swansea let go of me. I was quick to massage the spot he grabbed, giving him a glare.
"There was no need to drag me." I grumbled. Swansea ignored my words and began to talk.
"I already talked to Anya about this beforehand, so this is mostly me telling you the plan." He pointed an accusing finger at me. I stayed quiet, waiting for him to begin talking as I massaged the spot he grabbed.
"There is only on cryogen pod left. And Anya and I agreed to give it to Daisuke." He stated. I gave him a look of confusion.
"I thought the room to the cryogen pods was completely blocked off by foam...?" I muttered in confusion. Why would he lie about something like that?
"I said that because Jimmy would've made it a big deal and it would've been a damn free for all in here." I was offended by his words, giving him a look of disbelief as I took a step back.
"Jimmy? Why would he do that?" I grumbled, making sure to keep my voice quiet. I didn't want him to hear, how offended and utterly hurt he would be if he heard Swansea's accusations.
"He- Never mind..." He gave up on an explanation, and I decided to not push it further. "What I'm trying to say is... We're saving the last pod for Daisuke." He said and I didn't protest, giving him a nod of approval and letting out a sigh of relief.
"Alright... but I should really tell Jimmy tha-"
"One word to him about this and you're dead." He grunted, pointing a finger to my chest before storming off.
I lightly massaged the area where he poked me, watching him walk away with a frown and furrowed brows as I composed myself in silence.
Why are they so against telling Jimmy, their now captain, about the cryogen pod? I don't understand...
---
I was panicking.
Daisuke and Jimmy were nowhere to be seen, Swansea also, and Anya had locked herself in the medicalbay.
"Anya, please open the door, talk to me!" I yelled at the door, my voice shaky and my breaths quick as I leaned against the door, staring at it like I was going to pass through it.
She called my name weakly, making me even more anxious than before.
"I'm... I'm so sorry." She sounded like she was crying, which only made my worries worsen.
"Sorry? You- you don't have anything to be sorry for, Anya. Please open the door for me." I laughed awkwardly, like when you're caught sneaking out by your parents and are trying to make up an excuse.
"Jimmy... he..." Her voice was weak, and the mention of my boyfriend's name made me swallow thickly, afraid of what she would say.
"He what, Anya, please... Say something." I whispered, caressing the door, pretending like I was comforting her.
"I didn't want to... He made me." She called out my name, "He forced me- I'm sorry, I really am..."
I was confused.
"Forced you? Anya, please unlock the door and we'll talk, I won't be mad. Whatever you say I'll understand." I tried talking to her, but she became unresponsive. It stayed like that for a little while before I began banging on her door.
"Anya? Anya please respond-" My blood ran cold as I heard an echoing scream come from within, but it wasn't Anya's... No... Please-
Before I could think of anything else, I felt a sharp pain on the back of my head, and everything went black.
One hour until Judgement ᯓ★
My eyes fluttered open, my breathing slow as I tried to remember what happened. I tried moving but I realized I was tied down onto something.
I blinked rapidly to get used to the new lighting, looking around to see where I was. I was in the common area, living room as Daisuke called it.
Speaking of him, where was he? I remember hearing something... He screamed, he got hurt
I squinted as I looked around rapidly, where was everyone?
"Daisuke? Anya? Jimmy? Swansea? Anyone! Can anyone hear me?!" I yelled, my voice raspy and my head throbbing. It was hard to adjust to the red lighting, but once it did, I tried looking for clues.
"Can anyone hear..." My voice trailed off as I spotted someone lying on the ground, it was heard to see who it was. I squinted and tried to focus.
"Daisuke?" I questioned, but the boy didn't budge.
"Daisuke! Don't fuck with me! Are you alright?" I yelled at him, tugging at my restraints. His lack of a response left me frustrated. I groaned, trashing around to try and loosen up the ropes a bit. Who would even tie me up in the first place?
I managed to loosen up the knots, finding them and untying them in the process. Whoever did tie me up sure didn't pay attention in whatever knot tying class they took.
I sat up straight, looking down to see I was tied up on the coffee table. I stretched a bit, finding the silence awful, but I continued.
I walked towards the laying boy cautiously, my eyes adjusting the closer I got and... Oh... Oh god-
"Daisuke..." I breathed out, eyes wide in horror as I stared at the interns split face.
I quickly ran towards him, crouching down as I didn't want to touch him, feeling like my filthy hands would ruin him.
"What... how-" Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the lifeless body of the intern. I looked back to where I was tied up, jumping and feeling petrified as I saw Swansea's limp body tied up in a chair, how had I not noticed him before?
I switched my gaze between the young intern and the older mechanic, not sure what to do. Is there even anything I can do? Daisuke's skull is literally split open and, by the looks of it, Swansea has two bullets in his head.
I stood up, legs shaking as I walked back, looking down the hall hesitantly and into the medical bay.
I slapped my hand to my mouth as I saw Anya, lifeless with blood seeping from her mouth from what I could see. Quiet sobs left my lips as I tried not falling to the ground. There was only one person who could've done this...
But... Jimmy would never do such a thing! Yes, he may seem a little cold and distant at times but that doesn't mean he's a murderer! He's my boyfriend, he's... he's supposed to be the good guy...
Who else could have done that though? What else could've done that? I looked back at Daisuke.
His head was open, I stated that multiple times... But with what? A pipe couldn't have done that, and the axe was in Swansea's care... Then that would explain him being tied up in a chair.
The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.
The harsh reaction I had when I told him I got the job, Anya's usual attitude falling when he was around, looking scared and over all staying quiet... Her words. It all made sense
Not only did he go on a killing spree, but he cheated, he forced himself onto Anya, he traumatized her. He didn't kill her, she killed herself because of him, and that was far worse.
The love I previously had for him seemed to just disappear at that moment, being replaced with guilt, anger.
I heard shuffling, my head snapping to see him.
I looked at Jimmy in absolute horror. No tears, no sobbing, nothing left my lips. There was only one feeling remaining though...
Disgust.
He called out my name, and I couldn't stop the shiver of fear that rushed through me.
"Please... Let me explain."
"Explain what?" I questioned, voice barely audible.
He opened his mouth to speak, but he stuttered, not knowing how to even start his sentence. Pathetic.
"I... I had to! Anya fucking killed herself because of a stupid depressive episode she had! Daisuke got injured in the vents while trying to save her, I tried to save him too, but he was badly injured and Swansea fucking killed him! I had to shoot Swansea in self-defense because he wanted to kill both of us. He tied you up and wanted to kill me because he wanted the cryogen pod all to himself! That was his plan all along! He wanted to leave all of us for dead." His excuses only made me hate him more.
Anya killing herself because of an episode? Swansea killing Daisuke because there was no hope? Him shooting Swansea in self-defense? His story had shitty plot holes, and even I could see that with the two minutes I had to look around.
"..." I stayed quiet, just staring at him in disbelief that he could make up such a statement. How many excuses and lies did he tell me while we were dating?
"... Baby, please-"
"Don't call me that." I hissed, cutting him off mid-sentence, I didn't want to hear any more excuses, any more pleas, nothing. "I'm done." He stared at me in confusion, but I could see his usual irritation growing.
"Done with what?" He hissed back, voice lower, brows knitting together in irritation.
"I'm done with you." I grumbled. I watched him as his grip on the gun got tighter. "I'm done with dealing with your temper tantrums, I'm done with being patient, I'm done with listening to your every order, and I'm done with your cheating."
"Cheating? What are you talking about-"
"I don't want to listen to your annoying voice anymore, Jimmy. I have tried time and time again to ignore your flaws, I tried to see the best in you, but I can't anymore." My heart was beating in my ears. From fear? From anger? I couldn't tell. "All this time while I was on the Tulpar- No, while I've been dating you, you have shown that you don't care about me, and I don't even know why I decided to stay with you for this long."
I could hear his angered breathing even from this far away, which made my fears worsen, but at this point I'd rather be shot than survive.
"Shoot me. I'd rather be dead than carry the burden that I chose to be with you." I mumbled, my voice quieter now as I gave him a challenging look.
The two of us were consumed by silence once more, the sparks of faulty wiring and his intense breathing giving me a sense of anticipation.
I watched him as he raised the gun, a look that I could only describe as disappointment resting on his face.
"You don't understand." He grumbled, the gun aimed at my head. I only glared at him, daring him to pull the trigger. "And I know you never will."
With that, I watched him pull the trigger the last thing I heard was a loud bang before my body hit the floor.
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purple-racoon-80 · 2 days ago
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My thoughts on EPIC: The Musical Pt. 2
@eloquentsisyphianturmoil here ya go!!
THE UNDERWORLD SAGA
The Underworld: POLITES JUMP SCARE!!! NOT FAIR NOW IM CRYING. HIS MOTHER'S DEAD??? NO POOR ODY WE NEED A THERAPY SAGA AT THIS POINT
No Longer You: WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S NO LONGER HIM???? HUH??? EXPLAIN YOURSELF!!!
Monster: nooo this is lowkey kinda sad :((. SO WHAT IF IM THE MONSTER LURKING DEEP BELOW????
THE THUNDER SAGA
Suffering: "Penelope, why? *tucks hair behind ear* you know im too shy, and terrified" HELP THAT WAS SO BABYGIRL. its the way the siren genuinely answered his questions for me.
Different Beast: GO ODY!! THAT'S MY MAN!! bye bye sirens. although their screams and cries lowkey kinda hurt me
Scylla: OH MAN I LOVE HER VOICE AND HER DESIGN!!!! ODY WHAT THE FUCK DUDE??? I MEAN YOU KNOW I LOVE AND SUPPORT YOU BUT WHAT THE FUCK???
Mutiny: the way Eury looks so horrified at the start :(( he has every right to be mad :(((. OOF ODY GOT STABBED. PFFT- THEY TIED HIM UP. Eury, that's gonna have some backlash-
Thunder Bringer: "hiding away where only I can undress her" I hate you zeus. I hate you so much. "but we'll die" "I know" OUCH. THAT HURT. THE TEARS IN ODY'S VOICE.
THE WISDOM SAGA
Legendary: first sighting of Telemachus??? I LOVE LOVE LOVE HIM
Little Wolf: fuck you guys for trying to fuck Penelope. leave my queen alone. also, I love Athena here-
We'll Be Fine: YAYY, we get Athena and Tele. aww, their friendship is really cute.
Love In Paradise: "so, who's Penelope?" "my wife" YESS ODY GOOO. Calypso I love but hate you I love but hate you I love but hate you I love but hate you I love but hate you. ODY PLEASE STEP AWAY FROM THE EDGE. ANOTHER POLITES JUMP SCARE WHAT THE FUCK. ody is a strong, strong man. I would give in to Callie instantly.
God Games: OH MY FUCKING GOD IM THIS IS GONNA BE LONG
Apollo- my man wasn't even trying. he just wanted to leave at this point. "uh, I like signing and he killed sirens-"
Hephaestus- I LOVE LOVE LOVE HIS VOICE. I love him.
Aphrodite- she's gorgeous bro. also, its not his dam fault he couldn't make it home on time.
Ares: love love love his voice. "tell your lover a broken heart can mend." dam right.
Hera- her "hey baby" I'M SCREAMING I LOVE HER. "not once has he cheated on his wife" "release him" YESS.
Zeus I hate you. she's your daughter. zeus I hate you. zeus I hate you.
THE VENGEANCE SAGA
Not Sorry For Loving You: this actually kind of made me feel sorry for calypso. I mean, she's cursed. it's not her fault.
Dangerous: re-enforcing my fruity Hermes allegations. mmmmm, I love him so much. words can not describe how much I do. THIS SONG IS A BOP-
Charybdis: OML THIS WAS AMAZING. I can't describe how much this got me on the edge of my seat. I love this I love this I love this I love this.
Get In The Water: fuck you Poseidon he was so close. fuck you Poseidon.
Six Hundred Strike: oh my fucking god. oh lord. THE WAY HE FUCKING TORTURED POSEIDON??? DAM OH MY GOD DUDE!! ignore me freaking out over here -
this was a rollercoaster of emotions fucking hell. im so excited for the Ithaca saga ong. one moment, I have to go scream.
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naomijoestar · 2 days ago
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yo yo yo whats up it your favorite person here and their name is anon (i think)
anyways; s may i have some headcanons of narancia confessing to the usual shy reader? either the part where he might ask the others for help or the actual confession, thanks you very much!!1!!1
(as you can tell… we all narancia. hes our baby boy, hehehehheHEHEHHEHAHHAHHAAH)
Masterlist here <3
Well hello there my favorite person, anon! :p I adore narancia he is literally my baby and I love this ask so much <3
Sorry for the late reply! I have been super busy lately, so if I do take too long to answer your request I am not ignoring it dw but please be patient </3
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Narancia confessing to shy reader headcanons
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- Narancia is absolutely buzzing with energy the moment he realizes he’s in love with you. You’re the first thing on his mind when he wakes up and the last thing he thinks about before bed. But the thought of confessing? Absolutely Terrifying
- Knowing you’re shy, he tries to plan everything perfectly. He wants it to feel special without overwhelming you, but he has no idea where to start
- He turns to the gang for advice because, let’s face it, Narancia isn’t exactly an expert in romance:
- Mista tells him to play it cool and just go with the flow, but Narancia knows that’s not his style. If he tries to act too laid-back, he’ll end up tripping over his words or forgetting what he wanted to say
- Fugo suggests writing a letter to organize his thoughts. Narancia gives it a shot but quickly gets distracted drawing little hearts and sketches of your face in the margins
- Giorno advises him to be genuine. “Show them how much you care,” which makes Narancia overthink every little thing he wants to say. What if it’s too much? What if he scares you off?
- Bruno reminds him to keep it simple. “If they like you, they’ll appreciate the effort no matter what.” This sticks with Narancia, giving him the final push to just go for it
- After a lot of pacing and second-guessing himself, he decides to take you to a quiet spot near the water, somewhere peaceful where you won’t feel too pressured
- He shows up a little early to make sure everything feels right. He even brought a small gift—a flower he picked on the way or a little trinket he found that reminded him of you. It’s his way of breaking the ice
- The second you arrive, you can tell something’s up. He’s more jittery than usual, running a hand through his hair way too often
- Narancia tries to start casually, but his nerves get the best of him. His words tumble out all at once, a mix of excitement and panic. “So, uh, I’ve been meaning to tell you something. It’s not bad! I mean, I hope it’s not bad. Actually, it’s… it’s good. Really good. At least, I think it’s good—uh, sorry, I’m rambling.”
- He stops, takes a deep breath, and looks at you with wide, earnest eyes. His voice softens, and for once, his usual chaotic energy settles into something tender and sincere
- “What I’m trying to say is… I like you. Like, really like you. More than a friend. You make me feel so happy just by being around, and I—I want to make you happy too. So, uh… would you want to, y’know, be with me? Like, together?”
- He’s blushing so hard it looks like he might combust. His hands are fidgeting, and he keeps glancing away, afraid to see your reaction
- If you’re too shy to respond right away, Narancia immediately backtracks, waving his hands frantically. “Ah, you don’t have to answer now! I didn’t mean to put you on the spot!”
- But when you do manage to tell him you feel the same, his face lights up and his eyes go wide with disbelief before a huge, goofy grin spreads across his face
- “Wait, really?! You mean it? You like me too?!” He’s so overwhelmed with joy that he instinctively pulls you into a hug, but he catches himself halfway and asks, “Is this okay?” before wrapping his arms around you
- Narancia is on cloud nine for the rest of the day. He insists on walking you home, chatting nonstop about all the fun things you’ll do together now that you’re officially a couple
- He’s extra attentive to your needs, especially knowing how shy you are. He never wants to make you feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed, so he’s careful about taking things slow
- Around the gang, he can’t help but brag a little, but it’s always in a way that’s sweet rather than obnoxious. “Yeah, they’re with me now! Can you believe it? They’re amazing!”
- Narancia starts bringing you little gifts all the time—flowers, snacks, or even things he made himself. “I saw this and thought of you!” becomes his favorite line
- He loves holding your hand but is always gentle about it. If you’re too shy for PDA, he’ll respect that, but he still sneaks little touches whenever he can—like brushing his fingers against yours or resting his hand on your lower back
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I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it <3 If you’d like anything specific added or anything fixed you can message me about it!
If you enjoyed this make sure to check out my other posts, and if you’d like anything specific for any jjba character/squad you can request it if my requests are open!
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theitgirlnetwork · 3 days ago
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What Are You Willing To Do?
Ch. 1 : Self-Restraint (Rafe has none)
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Milan's Party Outfit
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Note: Okay this took forever to come out and I'm sorry. Please let me know what you think. Also something to note, I have an OC who is the main love interest in my JJ story. She is present in this story, but the two stories don't intertwine. Just something for those of you who will read both. I hope you enjoy and I love interacting. I will accept (constructive) criticism. And feedback. Another note, Milan is a little more of a bimbo character than my other ones, she won't be fully lost and I refuse to make her childlike. She just likes to be in the wind and chose a man who handles stuff for her. Also she doesn't have a permanent face claim yet, so if you have any ideas for that, please message them to me! :) Thank you for giving my story a chance, and if you're reading any of my other stories, I hope to be posting more to have some reprieve from the state of the world. Thanks so much!
Warnings: Mentions of sexual conduct, strong language, drug use
“Let’s go, I don’t know why I have to wait for you, we’ve got things to handle today, you’re makin’ me late-”
“Yeah, Dad-” Rafe huffs, jogging his way down the steps, grabbing his jacket off of the coat rack in the foyer. “Well, Sara has been in my shit again so, maybe you could talk to her about that-”
“I don’t touch your shit, no one wants your shit, Rafe.”
“I can tell, you probably brought your bum ass pogue boyfriend in here too, he shouldn’t be in the damn house-”
“Rafe!” Ward’s voice booms, making Rafe’s eyes snap to his father’s obediently, mouth snapping shut. “Do you really think that it's productive for you to waste time arguing with your little sister when I just told you we need to get a move on?”
“Uh,” the younger man breathes heavily through his nose, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides as he glares at his sister over his father’s shoulder. “No, sir.” 
“Alright then.” Ward rolls his eyes, nodding his head for his son to grab the bag on the ground and grab the car keys before turning to address his eldest daughter. “Need you to be home for dinner tonight. There’s a new family moving in a couple blocks over and we wanna make a good impression. That means no fighting,” the older man raises his eyebrows at his children, placing his bluetooth in his ear, “no boyfriends, Sarah,” Ward finishes with a rough pat on his son’s back, “no drugs. Get it? This could be big, Gregory Cabot is big in the oil industry and they might want to…settle here. If they do, we should be their first friends, understand?”
Rafe nods quietly, attentively hanging onto his father’s every word. Taking them in with an intensity that would satisfy any other dad. But not Ward Cameron. “Sarah, they’ve got twins about your age. Make sure you and Wheezie are cleaned up nicely. Rafe,” the 21 year old is met with his father’s rough hand smacking his cheek once, twice, under the guise of an affectionate pat. “Don’t fuck it up.”
“It’s like he uh, doesn’t get it, right? Like I do fuckin’ everything he asks, and I’m uh…I’m the fuck up.” Rafe stammers irritably before sending a powerful swing into the golf ball in front of him, watching it sail off into the distance. 
Topper and Kelce exchange looks as their friend grinds his teeth, grabbing a beer from their cart and taking a deep swig. He’d been ranting about this morning since they’d started on the course an hour ago. Apparently, his father’s comment had carried in Rafe’s mind all of the way through the brief errand down at the docks he’d accompanied him on, followed him to the country club and was going to last the entirety of their hang out. 
“Yeah man, I mean,” Topper begins, “I get it right? My mom’s always on some shit too. Like I screw up everything I do.”
“You do, Top.” Kelce chuckles, lining up for his swing.
Rafe nods along, taking another swig. “For real, like realistically, I do everything I’m supposed to, like I really step up and it’s fuckin’ bullshit that I’m still supposed to act like I’m his little bitch boy. I’m fully a man. I’m focused and shit. Because for real, Top, I feel like if Sarah asked you to come over right now you’d go runnin’ right?”
“Fuck you man.”
“Motherfucker knows I’m right.”
“Kelce?”
“I mean, Top, let’s be real.”
Topper rolls his tongue in his cheek irritably, turning red at his friend’s taunting, “Well, y’all are the ones who lost a girl to Maybank. Angel is glued to his broke ass.”
Rafe scoffs, picking his club back up and practicing his swing. “Yeah, fuck that, that was Kelce’s thing. Angel’s bad, but she’s more like the sister I wish Sarah’s annoying ass was.” 
“Sarah’s just like, young minded, she doesn’t know what she wants.”
Kelce laughs again as Rafe rolls his eyes, the two men switching spots as Rafe goes up for his turn again. “She knows, it’s just not you, man. Maybe that pogue just has better dick than you, Top…or did she ever let you fuck her?” Kelce laughs, turning his head to look up the hill at the juice bar at the edge of the course, squinting at something in the distance.
“Fuckin’ disgustin’.” Rafe huffs, swinging again, smirking as the ball goes directly into the hole, resting the club on his broad shoulder. “If you bitches weren’t so worried about chasing ass, maybe your game would be better.” The dirty blond brags, turning to see both of his friends now staring off into the distance. His jaw ticks in annoyance as he realizes that his friends had missed his impressive swing and ignored his bragging to stare at… “what the hell are you idiots looking at?”
When they don’t answer, Rafe decides to look for himself. The sight he sees is simultaneously exactly what he’s expecting and something he couldn’t have seen coming. 
Standing at the juice bar was possibly the sexiest little thing he’s seen in his 21 years of living. Sure, he’d expected to see a pretty girl. That’s just about the only thing that can get both Topper and Kelce to shut the fuck up for more than two seconds. Their eyes wide and mouths slightly agape, the two men didn’t hide their attraction at all. 
But Rafe, he was experiencing something else entirely. He’d thought she was fucking hot like they did, obviously. But this was a different kind of fine. She had to be new. There was no way that she would have evaded him by now. His cheek dimples slightly as he absently bites his lip a bit, watching the girl lean over the counter, her feet lifting slightly off of the ground, her tiny white skirt giving him a shot of the smooth skin that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. Rafe’s eyes follow her every movement, like a predator stalking its prey. Intense blue drinking in the dark, shiny, barely shoulder length hair falls out from her hat as she lifts it from her head, smoothing her hand over it before placing her hat back on.
Come on, baby, turn around for me. Lemme see the rest of that body. Lemme see that face.
It’s as if she could hear him. Like she decided to move, position herself, just for his enjoyment, because she turns. She turns and pulls herself up onto one of the barstools with a hop, pulling her shades from her face and tucking them onto the front of her shirt. She’s far, but even with the distance, Rafe finds himself puffing out a breath of disbelief, drinking in her gorgeous features. Full, glossy lips, tinged red, big eyes and a sweet, absent expression.
Next thing Rafe knows he’s making his way up the grassy hill, ignoring the calls of his friends for him to wait up. 
“But, my parents are signing up for membership today.” 
“I’m sorry ma’am, but until you’re in the system you’ll have to pay with cash or card.”
Milan pouts and furrows her brows. She just wanted to have a quick refresher before she met up with her mother at the new house so she’d ridden over to the club with her father. She didn’t really think she’d need money. She never carries cash because she’s likely to lose it and she’d left her card in her red purse, but it didn’t match her outfit so she’d sent it ahead to the house. She could go ask her father for money, but he was in the club owner’s office talking shop and had instructed her to explore while he finished up. “But it’s hot out here.” she whines. 
Milan turns to her right and starts scanning the outdoor bar area, looking for someone who looked friendly enough to spot her until her dad came down and paid them back. She drums her manicured nails on the wood of the countertop, ignorant to the bartender rolling her eyes at the girl. 
Finally, her eye lands on a table with three guys that look fresh off of the golf course. They’re all dressed similarly and just like every other guy at the club. Polo shirt and khaki pants. Two of them wore hats. They looked like her friends from back home. But the third one, he’s the one who gives her pause. As soon as her eyes land on him his shoot over, locking on hers. She straightens her posture a bit under his gaze, offering a polite smile before doing what most normal people do when accidentally making eye contact with someone, looking away. Her bob length hair brushes her shoulder as she turns her head away, but she can’t help but feel someone was still watching her. She decides to turn her head back slowly, trying to be inconspicuous, only to find she’s right. The guy is still watching.
He wets his lip as he tilts his head. His eyes still trained on her as he uncrossed his muscular arms. A small, what seems to be a smile, rests on his lips as he drums his hands on the arms of the chair he’s sitting in, pushing out of the seat and making his way over. One of his friends making a comment about something being ‘fuckin’ unfair’.
Milan fully straightens, tucking her hands under her butt and whirling around to face the bar again as if she hadn’t just been staring back at him. She kicks her feet until she feels a presence behind her? Beside her?
She turns her head and looks up to find the same guy, caging her in, standing slightly behind her with one hand resting on the bar at her side, the other grabbing the bottom of her stool and turning her to face him fully. 
Seeing him up close she can see how cute he is. Pretty blue eyes, clear skin and pink lips. His jawline is sharp, his seemingly blond hair is buzzed short to his head, and a dimple is revealed in his cheek with his smug grin. He’s big too. Tall and muscular, his presence is all imposing, crowding her against the bar and giving her no choice but to accommodate him in her bubble. “Hey.” he says softly, his voice still a deep rumble. 
Milan finds herself mimicking his position, tilting her head to match his, placing her elbows behind her to rest on the bar leaning the same way he was. Missing his eyes dropping briefly to wear the fabric of her shirt strained against her breasts. “Hi.”
“So, you uh, you want a drink or somethin’?” he asks lowly.
“Um..” she shrugs sheepishly, lifting her shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. “I dunno.”
She does. That’s what she’s been trying to do for the last few minutes, but that was before the cute guy was towering over her, taking up her space. He furrows his brow for a second, a smile still on his face as he pushes up a little, whistling into the air, nodding his head for the bartender to come over.
The woman sees the man and immediately sweeps her hand over her hair, smoothing it out and prancing over. “Yeah, yes, hi Mr. Cameron.” She twirls the end of her ponytail, offering him a wide grin. “What can I get for you?”
“Yeah, Erica, get me and the boys some beers and, uh,” the man raises his eyebrows at Milan.
“Oh, Milan.” she smiles up at him prettily before looking back at a very annoyed Erica. “Can I have a peach refresher? Please?”
“She doesn’t have a membership account yet-” Erica starts only to pause when she realizes that the blond hadn’t glanced in her direction since calling her over.
“Then put her shit on mine. Want anything else, sweetheart?” he asks, a heavy hand resting on Milan’s lower back.
“No, I think I’m okay.” she hums, lifting her chin as the bartender rolls her eyes and strolls away. “Thank you, by the way, for covering me. My father will pay you back when he’s done with his meeting.”
The mention of her father has the man recoiling a little, retreating his hand from her with his smile dropping slightly. “Don’t uh, worry about it, aight? So, Milan, how, uh, how old are you anyway?”
Milan works an even wider eyed look on her face, perching herself on the edge of the stool and swinging her legs. “15, how old are you, Mr. Cameron?”
His eyes widen and he takes a large step back, smoothing his and over his jaw, looking away briefly before looking back at her. “No shit? I uh…I’m-”
“Cute.” Milan giggles, hitting his arm lightly, pulling back when she feels the muscles that are barely concealed by the stereotypical polo that he’s wearing. “‘M 20, Mr. Cameron.”
“Rafe.” he says firmly. Milan straightens again when she feels his imposing presence once again, the heavy hand back at her back, spreading warmth up her spine. 
“Rafe.” she repeats.
“Good.” Rafe praises. Milan shifts in her seat at his approval, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion at the feeling she gets from the praise. “You, uh, new around here, or…”
“Yeah, I’m new, just settling in.”
“Right, yeah, and uh…your family just left you all alone, that doesn’t seem fair.” He offers her a small pout that Milan fails to recognize as patronizing. “Wanna join me and the boys?”
“Sur-”
The sound of a glass slamming down on the bartop startles the girl, the splashing of her drink leading her to scoot back, bumping into Rafe’s hard chest. “Three beers and a refresher.” Erica sneers. Milan checks her outfit for juice stains while Rafe tosses a tip onto the bar, an unimpressed look on his face.
“That shit’s not cute.”
Both girls whip their heads to look up at him, a hard look of disapproval has Erica huffing and storming away after snatching the tip from the counter. As quickly as it appeared, the look is gone when Rafe refocuses his attention on the girl directly in front of him.
Milan finds herself smiling again as the man mumbles a short, ‘you’re good’ under his breath as he scans her clothes for any evidence of a spill. Just as she’s going to agree to join them she receives a text from her father. Time to go. “I’d love to, but my father is ready to leave, it’s been a long day for him, I don’t wanna keep him waiting.”
“Nah, we wouldn’t want that.” Rafe offers Milan a hand, helping her hop down from the stool and passing her the drink. “Go on, sweetheart. I’ll see you around.”
As Milan walks away perkily all she can think about is the cute guy she met at the country club. Turning back once to wave her fingers at him and being met with a crooked smile and a nod of the head she flounces off to find her dad. 
And sharp blue eyes follow her skirt the whole way.
The muscle working in Rafe’s jaw is doing overtime as he cocks his head to the side, staring blankly at the wall trying to temper the rage boiling in his stomach as Ward carries on screaming in his face. 
Apparently if he didn’t have anything better to be doing, he should have been shadowing his father today instead of golfing.
Apparently he was a dickhead for even thinking he’d be sitting at one of the seats at the end of the table because that’s where the head of the house sits and he doesn’t run shit but his mouth. 
Apparently he was a poor excuse of a man for not knowing why Sarah was late and Wheezie’s dress wasn’t perfectly ironed, because how the women in the house look and act is a reflection of him and more importantly, Ward. 
So Rafe stood there. And he ate that shit. Nodded quietly, eyes squinted, internalizing every slight, every insult, and making note.
He counted every book on the bookshelf in his father’s office until he felt his jaw being gripped and forced over to face Ward. Then, he started counting the wrinkles on his face. 
The verbal lashing didn’t end until Sarah came barreling in, her straps to her dress barely on and her hair combed for fucking once since getting with that fuckin’ bum. But Ward softens. He redirects his attention to tell his daughter she’s beautiful and thank her for coming. And then he points a warning finger in Rafe’s face before storming out of the room.
“Where the hell were you?” he asks his sister through gritted teeth. 
Sarah rolls her eyes, pushing past him. “Don’t have to answer to you, Rafe.”
It takes everything in him not to put his fist through a wall.
So, yeah, one could say he’s a little on edge. Sitting on his father’s right because the guest of honor, Mr. Cabot deserves the seat on the left, that’s where food gets served first. Rose sat on the opposite end, where the second host sits which will also place her closest to where Mrs. Cabot will likely be. Ward is at the head because where the fuck else would he be? And Rafe is in the seat on the right. The seat where the food will get served last. The seat where the youngest in the family is supposed to fuckin’ sit which anyone who has any kind of knowledge of etiquette would know. Which Rafe knows because he’s proactive and he fuckin’ learned it. Because he knows every aspect of running a household, not that Ward would acknowledge it. 
He needs a fuckin’ bump. 
Or a blunt. 
What the fuck ever the wine ain’t cuttin’ it. 
But Ward is watching him like a hawk and clearly won’t tolerate him disappearing to find some peace no matter how brief and slick he is about it. 
So instead, Rafe’s leg jumps under the table. And his fingers drum on top of it. And he works his jaw irritably.
“You need a nicotine patch or something?” Wheezie asks, pushing her glasses up her nose.
“C-could you actually shut the fuck up for one second?” 
“You’re such a jerk, Rafe, she’s a kid, Jesus.” Sarah huffs. “When’s this family supposed to be coming anyway?” 
“Asking that repetitively is not going to make them get here faster.” Rose groans, rubbing her temples. “Honey-”
“They’re here,” Ward calls, retreating from the door, snapping his fingers and pointing toward the sitting room for Rafe to get four scotches ready, and sitting in the seat in the corner of the room. “Ladies?”
“We’re going.” Wheezie whines, following behind Rose into the kitchen and carrying in the dinner that they were pretending Rose and Sarah made as Sarah goes to the foyer to wait for the bell to ring. “But this little routine we have is really sexist.”
“Don’t screw this up.” Ward sneers under his breath, as he takes his glass from Rafe.
“Dad-”
The ring of the doorbell has everyone falling into their roles. It all starts without a hitch. Sarah pulls the door open with a bright smile and sickeningly sweet greeting. Rafe tries to tune in to the fake conversation his father started with him when they heard the footsteps in their home multiply. 
“Oh! I’m a mess, nice to meet you, I’m Rose, please come in. Sweetheart, why don’t you go with Sarah and Louisa while I show your father to the sitting room. Then us girls can really get to know each other.” Rose plays her part easily, her heels clacking against the floor, the sound getting closer as she chatters away to what should only be the couple and their son now that she’s dumped the girl off with Sarah. “Your daughter is just beautiful, really, you’re going to have to watch her on this island.”
She says that to everyone. 9/10 it's a lie. 
“Your daughters are gorgeous too. You must have your hands full.”
Sounds like Mrs. Cabot knows the game too, usually people don’t get a word in while Rose is running her lines.
“We keep our eyes peeled, but our girls just aren’t doing the dating scene yet.” No, Sarah’s too busy laying on her back for dirty pogues to date someone worth mentioning. A little money doesn’t change status. “Ward, darling, our guests are here.”
And that’s our cue. 
Like they’ve done many times before the two men stand, Rafe watches his father’s movements carefully, making sure to always stand tall, and one step behind him. Ward takes 2 steps, Rafe takes 1. 
The man entering the room behind Rose was tall. Only a little shorter than Rafe. Broad and appearing stern. He guides his wife in by her waist and Rafe quickly looks away from the older woman. She’s attractive, and if it was him, the last thing Rafe would want is his potential business partner’s son eyeing down his wife. The man holds out his large hand to Ward first, the two of them shaking firmly. “Gregory Cabot.” 
“Ward Cameron, good to meet you.” Ward gestures behind him for Rafe to enter stage left. “And this is my son…”
“Rafe, uh Rafe Cameron, nice to meet you, sir. Ma’am.” he says, shaking Gregory’s hand and squeezing the appropriate amount. A craft he’d perfected during the early days of doing these. 
“Good shake son.”
The comment has Rafe standing at his full height, biting back an accomplished smirk as his dad glances back at him with a look of approval. 
“Handsome young man, too.” the older woman hums. 
“Thank you, ma’am.” Rafe offers her a polite smile to appease his father. 
It’s all a part of the game. This little back and forth. It breaks the ice, and Rafe is the sacrificial lamb for it everytime. Gregory would say:
“Don’t be tryin’ to seal my wife there, boy.”
Pause for laughter. 
Then Rafe would say something like, “if I was a couple years older I might give you some competition, sir.”
To which everyone would laugh and Ward would swat him with strength that varies depending on how the interaction goes. 
Rafe has this little dance down to a science. 
It was going well. Really, it was exactly how it should be, and going quickly too. Rafe was desperate to get this part over with so they could handle business, make some money, and he could celebrate by going to a party he’d heard about earlier. 
But then she came in. And suddenly this was something entirely new.
“Dad, I’m gonna go to a party with Sarah after dinner. Can I have some money?” 
There she is. Her shapely body draped in a silky green dress with pretty pink roses, her manicured fingers already outstretched toward her father. Glossed, rose petal lips pursed as she waits for the bills to be placed in her hand. 
Milan. Rafe forces his eyes away from her, feeling two warring feelings flood his body as he wills himself to keep his eyes on her father instead.
“Without Milo?” Gregory asks. 
Milan rolls her eyes to the ceiling, huffing and crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts upward and causing Rafe to work his jaw lightly. “‘M grown, Dad.”
Ward would never tolerate that tone…neither would I.
“We’re in a new place, your brother’s away on business-” Rafe can immediately feel his father’s eyes burning holes into the side of his head. 
Milan’s eyes slide shut as she takes a deep breath, retracting fully and turning to leave the room. She was so caught up she didn’t even notice Rafe. It aggravated him. Spoiled. She’s spoiled. 
I can fix that. 
Eventually they get dinner started and it’s like the interaction hadn’t happened. Milan sat through the dinner and acted her role accordingly. She introduced herself to his father, which clearly had impressed Ward. She made her obligatory conversation points, but mostly chatted with the other women at the table. When Rafe pulled out her chair, she smiled at him prettily but aside from that, gave him no indication that she recognized him from earlier. 
Rafe tries to focus on talking shop with his dad and Gregory, but his eyes keep wandering back to Milan’s mouth on her spoon and the little hums that leave her mouth. 
The damn ice cream ain’t that fuckin’ good.
“Uh, yeah, I’ve been trackin’ the macro model for crude oil and uh, I, I’d wanna know more.”
“That’s great son, yeah, it takes time, but it seems like you're on track, maybe I could put you in contact with one of my buddies that does the numbers for me, then you can run them with your dad and I.” 
Rafe’s on fuckin’ fire. He’s killin’ this shit, and he’ll be deep in those Cabot pockets in no time. But all he could think about is the man’s pretty little princess perched on her chair a couple seats down, pouting as Sarah raves about how fun this party is going to be to Milan and Wheezie.
None of my fuckin’ business. 
“Sounds really cool, Sarah.” the girl smiles behind the metal spoon, sighing wistfully. 
Don’t do this shit man, Ward’s gonna kill you.
Her final sigh and last scoop of vanilla ice cream being spooned into her mouth through plump glossy lips is what does it.
Fuckin’ weak, Cameron. Over some pussy?
“Uh, Gregory, I’m goin’ to this party too. I’m takin’ Sarah, there’s no reason why I can’t keep an eye out for Milan too.” 
If looks could fuckin’ kill. 
Ward is staring Rafe down with a look that would have a weaker man retracting his offer immediately, but the bright smile that plastered across Milan’s face made Rafe stand his ground. 
Gregory is simply pensive. His eyes flick between his daughter and the Cameron siblings. “How old did you say you were again?”
“21, sir.” 
Gregory’s brows furrow as he looks Rafe over again, before turning to Ward. “Reminds me of my boy. Protective over his sister and her friends. Good stuff, Cameron.” He turns back to Rafe with a menacing look on his face. “Back like I sent her, Rafe.” 
“Of course, Gregory.” 
The older man couldn’t have known what he just allowed.
“Fuck, Sarah, how long does it take?”
“I didn’t even want to ride with you, Rafe, John B. could’ve picked up me and Milan-”
“Yeah, well, her dad put me in charge of her safety, Sarah, and actually, Dad put me in charge of yours, so-”
“Oh my God, don’t act like…like you’re doing some noble thing, okay? I know why you offered to take us, cause you leave me all the time-” 
“You don’t know shit, alright, Sarah?” Rafe groans, backing out of his spot and turning out of their street.
“I know plenty, and I know you’re tryin’ to fuck Milan.”
“So what?”
“So what?” Sarah tosses her hair angrily, shifting in the passenger seat. “So, you’re fucking nuts, and she’s actually a nice girl. So, Dad’s doing business with her dad, that’s so what, Rafe.”
“I like, genuinely don’t need you telling me shit about shit Sarah, like for real.” 
“I really hope her brother is fucking huge, so he can kick your ass.”
Rafe snorts, slowing the car down a little and turning down the music as he pulls into the Cabot’s neighborhood. “Yeah, maybe right? Cause God knows your little pogue bitches have tried and failed.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Yeah, love you too, sis.” Rafe looks at the large house found at the address that Gregory had given him and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Get in the back seat.”
“Are you serious-”
“Back seat, Sarah, Jesus!” He huffs, slamming the car door and making his way up the walkway, stopping on the freshly laid cobblestone when the heavy, double wooden doors swing open. 
“Bye, Dad, I’ll see you later!” 
If Rafe had thought the dress Milan had on earlier was something, this skimpy number she trots out in would test any man. The girl absently twirls in her outfit. It’s a white two piece set consisting of a long, see-through skirt, barely hiding her white bikini bottoms and matching cropped top. His eyes trail along the dips in her waist, catching on the dimples on her back before finding the matching ones on her cheeks. All he could think is how perfectly his thumbs would fit in both sets of dimples. “Hi, Rafe.” 
He tilts his head back, openly staring down at her appreciatively. “Don’t you look cute.” 
With the shy smile that overtakes her face he all but expects the girl to melt under his gaze. Rafe is pleasantly surprised when she lifts her shoulder before brushing past him to make her way toward the car. “Thank you, I know.”
He chuckles to himself as the heels of her sandals clack on the cobblestone and stop just before the passenger door. Milan purses her lips without even considering touching the handle, rocking on her feet and swinging her purse absently as she waits patiently for him to come open it, just smiling when Sarah calls from inside the vehicle, ‘it’s unlocked.’
Rafe doesn’t know what moves him. Normally, he left girls to hoist themselves into his car as he hopped in himself on the driver’s side. But he could tell, this girl didn’t even conceive that she should be the one to open the door. No, she expected him to help. To care of it. And used her pretty little grin as his payment once he gets the picture and pulls the door open and offers her his hand to settle her into the seat. “You uh, you comfortable?”
She’d already pulled down the mirror and was reapplying the lipgloss Rafe was determined to taste, humming absently to herself. “Hm? Oh, yeah.” 
Not a thought behind those pretty eyes, huh?
I like that.
Milan watches out of the window as they pass by trees and grassy nooks. String lights twinkling as they ride by, people selling produce on the side of the road. The salty smell of water in the air through the open window. She could see Sarah in the backseat, smiling to herself as she texted on her phone. Milan’s own phone lights up as she receives the girl’s message. The two of them had really gotten along when they met at dinner earlier. She wasn’t expecting the blonde girl to be so kind and welcoming. The entire family had been really kind. Wheezie was a cute kid and Rose seemed like every other tired housewife in their world. A little fake, but ultimately harmless. Ward seemed strict like her dad. He seemed to grit his teeth angrily at almost everything his family said, only to offer a wide smile when her own dad seemed pleased, or at the least unbothered. 
And Rafe. Rafe was…cute. Hot, he’s hot. He’s handsome and tall, and can talk to her dad about all that business shit she didn’t give a shit to try and understand. And he’s attracted to her. Milan can tell. His eyes were shooting between their fathers and her the whole dinner. She felt the intensity of them even as she reapplied her lip gloss, as she chatted with his sister, when she’d taken a selfie as she leaned against the headrest, posing both for the camera and him. 
But for some reason he’s wound so tight. As hot as it is, it can’t be healthy how frequently that muscle in his jaw jumps, keeping in rhythm with the bounce of his leg and the drumming on his fingers. Milan’s eyes flick across his movements and her lips part as she considers asking him if he was okay. Her voice catches in her throat when sharp, blue lands on deep brown and his brows raise as if he were asking a sarcastic ‘yes?’ When she shrugs lightly, smiling in return, he sends her a smirk before turning his gaze back to the road, peeling off at the light and turning up the music playing on the speaker to drown out his sister’s chatting. 
Milan blinks at the heat she feels on her face and refocuses on her phone, opening her messages from Sarah. 
Sorry about my brother. He’s a dick. When we get to the party you can hang with me. :)
The party was apparently at some house on the beach. Young adults were filling the walls of the building, spilling out onto the sand and grass. The music booms in the night air, and the smells of salt and weed fills their lungs.
Sarah pulls Milan along, their arms looped together as she guides her away from Rafe as quickly as possible. The man is clearly disinterested in following, offering Milan a brush on the shoulder before stalking off toward the back of the house, calls of his name in greeting following his arrival. 
“Oh okay, yeah, my friends are in the kitchen, c’mon.” Sarah tugs her the rest of the way, leading Milan to the dark kitchen over to a crowd of people. She recognizes one of the guys as the guy on Sarah’s phone. John B. she said his name was. Apparently, normally, Sarah stays with him at his house but Ward had asked her to come around today to meet with Milan’s family, and she did it because they were trying to ‘rebuild their family’. “Hi.”
John B. turns to her immediately, a grin spreading on his face as he pulls Sarah to him, effectively separating her and Milan. “Hi, baby.”
His loud blond friend with his arms draped around a pretty girl with brown skin peaks his head out from behind them, pausing mid story, and drunkenly causing his girl to stumble with him. The girl follows his gaze and offers her a kind smile, pushing the blond by his face, laughing at whatever he’s mumbling in her ear. “Hi,” she calls over the music. “I’m Angel. This drunk dumbass is JJ.” She huffs, as he gives Milan a wide grin and nod before guiding Angel’s face back to his.
The tall guy next to him is flanked by a shorter light skinned girl and a girl pouring shots, laughing with Sarah, calling her a lightweight with a thick accent. “Cleo. You want one?”
“Yeah, I’ll take a shot.” Milan shrugs. Her eyes squeeze shut as the liquid slides down her throat, burning it and her mouth. She shakes her head, before letting the warm feeling spread in her belly. A hand on her elbow grabs her attention and has her looking over her shoulder. 
“Come dance with me.” 
It’s some random guy, already tugging her toward the crowd of moving bodies, not waiting for her reply. “Oh, no thanks.” Milan plants her feet, stumbling a little against his pulling. 
“C’mon, you don’t like to dance?”
“No, I just don’t want to dance with you.” Milan chirps, glancing down at her nails to make sure he hadn’t made her accidentally knock a gem off. She watches as the guy’s face shifts from shock to a deep frown. He roughly releases her arm and storms off. She takes a couple steps back to where Sarah and her group are standing, seeing all of the couples wrapped into each other. The light skinned girl reaches her hand across the island counter to get her attention.
“You good? I was about to make my way over. The guys on this island are entitled assholes.” 
“Yeah, that’s guys everywhere. It’s never the cute ones that come to you, huh?”
“Nah, it’s generally the creeps and losers who feel bold.” The girl laughs. “I’m Kie, Kiara.” 
“Milan. Do you feel like dancing?” 
Kiara shrugs, mumbling a ‘why not’ glancing back at her own friends before taking Milan’s hand and leading her toward the sea of people dancing. Milan twirls Kie as they step onto the makeshift dance floor smiling as they begin dancing together. The two girls take turns spinning each other, holding each other’s hips and guiding their dance. Milan can feel several pairs of eyes on them as they rock against each other, the base of the drum in her ears and chest. But her eyes only searched for one set in particular. She allows Kiara to turn her and flips her hair out of her face. And then they are. Steely blue. 
Rafe blows smoke from his nose before licking his thumb, flicking through the stack of cash Kelce had just shoved into his hand. “Aight.” He nods, reaching his jacket pocket and producing a small bag of coke. He’d been giving Sarah and Milan space. For one, because he genuinely does not give a fuck what his hoe ass sister does. If she doesn’t give a fuck about the Cameron name then she could take that dirty pogue’s. On Milan’s end, Rafe was exercising self-restraint. He knows that now that they’re away from their families it wouldn’t take long for him to crack. She’d looked fucking gorgeous earlier that day, and even more so at dinner. Now that they were at a party, and he could take a fuckin’ second to breathe outside of Ward’s scrutiny…he’d break eventually. He was relying Sarah to keep her busy and away from him so he didn’t end up fucking her and fucking up the deal their fathers were trying to work out. 
“What the fuck? That’s it?”
Rafe’s brows furrow as he looks at his friend. “Yeah, you fuckin’ druggy, told you I needed to go see my supplier. Your fiend ass didn’t wanna fuckin’ wait, so take it.” 
“Shit.” Kelce scratches his head, scooping out some of the white powder and leaning forward on the couch to line it up on the coffee table. “Hey, that’s the girl from before right? At the club?”
Rafe looks up to find Milan across from him in the other room. He watches as she twirls and rolls her hips against Kiara’s. Her shiny dark hair bouncing from shoulder to shoulder and her pretty lips mouth along to the song that’s blasting throughout the house. He runs his thumb over his bottom lip as he watches her movements, completely unaware of the group of girls trying to flirt with him and offer him a bump on the couch next to him.
When they lock eyes her smile grows even brighter and his own becomes wolfish. Her movements become even more daring, she dips low, arching her back before coming back up quickly, flipping her hair and rolling her full body. Her hands cover Kiara’s on her hips as she puts on a show for him.  
Rafe chuckles darkly under his breath as he drinks her in, sitting back against the couch comfortably as if he’d paid for this little performance.
It all ends too quickly.
The song changes and Kiara leans into Milan’s ear, murmuring something and making a smoke motion before heading toward the sliding door in the kitchen. The girl is gone for like a few fucking seconds before the fuckin’ loser bastards that had been lurking around them pounce on Milan. Crowding her, trying to usher her into a dance. 
She pushes up onto her tiptoes, looking over some guy’s shoulder to regain eye contact with Rafe, an offer in her eyes as she motions him over with her finger. 
Shaking his head and smirking, Rafe pats his knee, challenging her. He cocks his head slightly to the side when she gently shakes her own head, and gestures for him to come to her with a single finger.
“Rafeeee, you got anymore?” A whiny voice calls to him. 
Right. He was supposed to be moving weight. Damn girl is distracting him. “Uh, yeah, I’m low right now, so I’ve only got baggies, aight?” 
“That’s fine,” the girl says flirtily. He rolls his eyes as he feels her hand on his knee. “You have discounts for pretty girls?”
His eyes drag back over to Milan and his jaw immediately clenches. She’s still facing him, but this time she had someone decidedly less acceptable in Rafe’s eyes clutching her. He watches as some prick who he used to play league basketball with when they were fuckhead teenagers basically nutting on Milan’s back. Rafe’s lip curls as he watches the girl dance for this guy. He couldn’t even think of his fucking name. Milan catches his eyes again, looking at him through her pretty lashes, shrugging absently. Seemingly completely unbothered by the goddamn loser basically humping her like a dog. Rafe feels his head swim dangerously and his stomach turn as he watches weak hands trail along her perfect body. Her brow quirks at him once before she turns in the guys arms, turning her back on Rafe. 
“Rafe?” The girl to his side looks at him questioningly, briefly trying to follow his gaze with her drug-addled brain, giving up and leaning on him again. 
“Uh, right, I’ll give it up for $200.” 
The girl’s eyes widen as she looks back at her friends who gesture for her to try again. She smiles at Rafe and tilts her head toward him. “Um, how much if we can hang out a little upstairs after?” 
“Oh shit.” Kelce chuckles, sniffing and wiping his nose. 
Rafe rolls his eyes. He’s so used to girls offering to sleep with him or suck his dick for drugs. Usually they at least ask him to give it to them for free, this girl was gonna fuck him for a discount. He rarely takes advantage of it, on doing it if he was trying to hit anyway. Really, he doesn’t have to exchange free drugs for getting his dick wet. Fuckin’ look at him.  
Right now, he wasn’t really in the mood for random pussy. Not when he literally can’t fucking see Milan in his line of sight anymore. And that fucking idiot that was grinding his dick on her was fucking gone too. He needed to look for her ASAP. “You got the $200 or what?”
The girl huffs and digs in her purse, dropping the money in his extended hand and snatching the bag off the table, grumbling ‘asshole’ under her breath as she and her friends stumble outside. 
As soon as Rafe pockets money he goes to shoot off of the couch to hunt Milan down, only to be stopped before he can fully stand. 
“Is that cocaine?” 
Milan’s sweet voice puts him on red alert. Rafe settles back into his seat and looks at her. She’s staring down at the table worriedly, wrapping her arms around herself as she stands in the doorway. “Was that guy a friend of yours?”
“You didn’t wanna dance.” she pouts.
“Okay?”
“And I wanted to dance.”
Brat. “So you, uh, just dance with some random dick instead?” He asks, giving her a disappointed look and relishing in the way she shifts under his gaze. 
Interestingly enough, even with his glare, she doesn’t back down, pursing her own lips and sitting on the arm of the couch. “Jeez, you’re strict, I feel bad for Sarah. Is that cocaine?”
“Yeah, I just provide a little party favor for my friends here and there. What, you want a bump?” He starts to test her limits, resting a large, warm hand on her thigh, feeling her through the thin fabric of her skirt. Careful not to move and startle her. 
“I don’t do coke. D’you?” 
It’s her wide-eyed look. The dimpled frown as she glances back down to the white substance on the table. She gives herself away to him easily. Milan is a good girl. She’s just a good girl who knows she’s pretty. That’s what the whole dance was about. She was being cute. That’s what she does. But she’s not really about shit. Daddy’s girl with a protective older brother. Two dragons guarding their little princess. Never had anyone tell her no and mean it. If Rafe used the logic in his brain, he would know, he’s too much. What he expects of the girls he hooks up with. God forbid dates. He’d turn this pretty little thing out. He should be nice, and leave her alone. 
But Rafe isn’t a nice guy. Not really.
“‘Course not, can’t get high on my own supply.” He smoothes a thumb over her knee. “Don’t worry, Princess, it can’t jump off the table and get you.”
Kelce snorts and Milan’s brows furrow. Rafe whips his head around to his friend, nudging him sharply and sending him a silent message. “Oh, uh, I’m gonna get another drink. I’ll be back.” Rafe sends him another look. “Or I won’t.”
As soon as Kelce gets up, Rafe scoots over on the couch, holding one of Milan’s hands and guiding her onto it with him. “That was one of your friends from earlier right? At the country club?” 
“Yeah, Kelce, he’s a fuckin’ idiot.” He says absently, reaching over and grabbing the blunt he’d abandoned when he’d started dealing, re-lighting it. “You don’t smoke weed either, huh?”
Milan shrugs, scooting closer. “I just don’t know how to do it by myself.” 
God she’s just fuckin’ perfect isn’t she? Rafe hangs his head, letting out an exasperated laugh. It’s like she was sent as a test. She’s already bad as shit, she’s just sitting here, damn near in his lap with her big fuck-me eyes and wide-open personality. She knows she’s sexy and that’s just about it. But her dad let her go because he was supposed to be responsible. That’s big money on the table, and Ward would fuckin’ kill him if he was distracted by the opportunity to hit on the literal oil baron’s daughter. “Figures, pretty thing like you can’t do anything by herself. What, you need me to light it for you?”
“I’ve only ever had someone shotgun it for me.” She says.
Rafe’s hand is at the back of her head, fist in her hair before he can even realize what he’s doing. He pulls her close, tugging her against him and halting right before she hits his lips. He brings the blunt to his own lips, inhaling the smoke before leaning even closer, drunk on the way she’s looking at him. “Yeah?”
When she gasps out a breath, offering him a little nod, already puckering her plump, lips for him.
Fuck it. Rafe thinks. 
He could be a responsible man for his dad tomorrow.
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skeletonfromthecloset · 8 days ago
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fun side effect (thats so not the right word but idc) of being aro is that while everybody else is in love with fictional characters, i just really want to be their friend!!! i just really really really want to give them a hug & make them a nice warm drink (yes i am one of those people that makes drinking tea their whole personality. what about it.) like. i just. i want to listen to them rant about their life & how their day was. I WANT TO LISTEN TO THEM INFODUMP‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ ugh. just please be neurodivergent with me for a minute. please. guys. autism. please.
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obnoxiousarcade · 5 months ago
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I have a longing to be understood more than anything else i think
#someone very recently acknowledged something that usually goes unseen and it wasn't even that great of an acknowledgement but ive just been#staring at the messages every once in a while. its great. not really i sort of feel like a real weirdo#im very lonely. i cant say why but let it be known that i am very lonely#ok i have a question to those who lie their eyes upon this post: tell me what you know about me please?#so much lies in my social perception and i am just. not being perceived. at all. darn#i have a lot to cry about but morally i dont think i should-- specifics would mean being mean to the people i love#talking to anyone anymore just makes me feel horrible. doing anything anymore makes me feel horrible..tmbg has my back though ill live for#another.week or a few. and then my birthday will happen and rhen um#.Well. it sucks that sucks man. i dont want to disclose my age but to elaborate on why ACTUALLY HOLD ON#the thing i am about to say is not true; it is a metaphorical thing: it is my 21st birthday soon.#i decided that i wouldnt live past this age around 5 years ago and the only reason ive lived five years is being killed this year. i dont#think every thing ive been desperately clinging on to for the past 2 (?) years can keep me alive past then..i think im going to die. i have#to#NO MORE BEING A DOWNER#fox (vulpes vulpes) on the Internet for the first time#okay maybe a little more..i dont know who im talking to in this post. my friends do not read my tumblr and. i dont know anyone else.really.#uh#I'm listen to tmbg right now i love them#hey reader; i can only think of 3 people who see enough about me to check my blog. so i have separate questions for the each of you.#one of you likes (liked? school came in and i couldnt see your blog much past then; idk if its changed) tmbg. what do you think of The Else?#and uh you there... the guyyy. Google john flansburgh..i dont have a reason to this one ive just not been able to stop thinking about askin#you what you think of him.#um third person..... um#okay theres nothing iecan ask. i do want to apologize to you though: im sorry.#iThis is bullshit#im gonna delete this soon#Um also sorry if my wording here is. really wack. i tend to do that#i dont think anyones going to see this as is always#i think i just like talking to the hypothetical beast. yeah
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