#uh yeah. im gonna shut up

[senkamikakushi]

yeah. this. people can take the relationship any way they want, but stubbornly insisting to others that they're siblings is just spreading misinformation

I also think haku's relationship with chihiro transcends romantic and platonic titles as quite a few ghibli pairings tend to do, but it's undeniable that the love is there (they literally beat us over the head with it in the dialogue lmao). im just sick of the theory that it's purely familial/sibling love because what. where did they even get that. I can understand all the reasons as to why people would steer away from chihiro and haku in a more romantic context (mainly the awkwardness of the whole age thing or preferring to see them platonically) but I find just the notion of the sibling theory absurd. because siblings where?? they don't even look remotely alike. he is literally stated to be a river spirit. there's also the spirited away Q&A where miyazaki himself described chihiro's relationship with haku as "falling in love with a manager" (noteworthy to mention that this is in response to the haku age question specifically). I can respect people wanting to see their relationship in a non-romantic way out of personal preference, but my issues are with the people that push the sibling misinfo as if it's canon and use it as a "gotcha" against others. it's just not true, like, at all.

I'd be less annoyed by the theory if it hadn't kept spreading everywhere... now it's so popular that a bunch of people have genuinely fallen for it.

I’ve ranted about this before but that stupid sibling “theory” (if u could even call it a theory. all the “evidence” is made up conjecture) about chihiro and haku is legitimately insane when this line is literally in the movie. You think they’d put in this line and not any sort of hint or line of dialogue saying they’re siblings if that “theory” was true??

Not only did she say this but she said it in english so there would be zero confusion and yet people still get it wrong. Granted it’s not in the english dub but both kamaji and zeniba use the word love when referring to chihiro and haku and say it in sort of a cheeky elbow nudge teasing way that you wouldn’t say about a pair of siblings.

[blueskittlesart]

How do you feel about concepts for redeemed/good guy Ganondorf? I don't remember if you've said anything on it before, so I am curious to see what sorts of thoughts you have to share or if you've thought about the idea before (especially since you've worked on SoF so I assume you've thought about many possibilities of a "what if" Zelda game)

For my part: I have mixed feelings, and I think a lot of concepts end up being "I want a buff guy to ship Link with"; I also think a lot of criticisms of the racism in many depictions of Ganondorf have merit (though I don't speak on them in depth because I'm white) and would love to see a more favorable/complex portrayal of him and other characters of color in LoZ. I personally haven't seen many versions of good guy/redeemed Ganondorf that really engage with the base structure of the LoZ games but I would love to see one that did.

Anyways I love your blog and analysis and I love seeing someone who finds analysis as inherently a part of their engagement with fandom as me, it's really nice :) I hope you're having a good day

I never posted about it much but sof did actually have a somewhat redeemed ganondorf, or as close to "good guy" as i'm willing to go with him in my own writing. sof was/is very much about me exploring the religious aspects of the lore and issues of fate vs self-determination, so my ganondorf was a much younger version of the character (similar in age to link and zelda) born into an extremist hylia-worshipping doomsday cult. in sof, ganondorf finds the remains of DEMISE'S sword and believes it to be the master sword, so when it starts ordering him around he follows the orders without question, believing that he's hearing the voice of hylia, and basically everyone in his life affirms to him that this is the correct choice and he's hylia's chosen one. Because of the intensity of the religious doctrine he was raised with, he has no problem following the sword's orders even when they become progressively more and more violent, and by the time link and zelda get to him he's nearly past the point of no return. (this is also partially a product of the setting I chose to put sof in--it's one of if not the first cycles after sksw, so the hyruleans' understanding of the reincarnation cycle and their own general history isn't super solid.) So that's my personal take on a "good guy" ganondorf, and, i think, the way i'd like to see it done in canon if ever they choose to go that route--because loz deals so much with the concepts of fate and cycles, I think leaning into a ganondorf who isn't inherently evil but can't escape the fate that waits for him is a fun way to take it.

[tempests-bards-and-birds]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: M/M

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Relationships: Venti/Xiao

Characters: Venti, Xiao

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 4.090

Additional tags: Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Blood and Injury

Summary:

So easy - it would be so easy to just do it, to just get up despite the dull, blunt, aching brace clamped onto his chest and stroll through the door, singing a wind-borne serenade to sweep up any stray blood that might linger in his wake. He had done it before, after tending to Xiao’s own wounds, each one that he sustained carving another little scratch in his heart that he dared not give voice to. He glanced back up at Xiao. The little searing strip of guilt burned just a little deeper.

or, venti faces the terrifying ordeal of being known.

[svtskneecaps]

my biological peer reviewer (sibling) called this theory “fun” and said i should send it, so here goes

my personal theory is the feds ((”federation”)) created the eggs because they decided the best way to enforce “you can never leave” was to give the people something they couldn’t lose, like in the post by tumblr user alexaloraetheris (no relation to the smp) where their friend who might be a deity had said,

"When you die you descend to the underworld with nothing to lose. To keep you, they give you something to lose. When you want to return, they will demand it back. That's why nobody ever leaves. The only way out is to never enter."

i’m thinkin that on egg D-Day, at the end of the countdown, the feds weren’t gonna give the eggs back. they were just gonna hide them forever, or do something else, anything else, just keep them away from their surrogate parents, because then the people would just be STUCK, because people could theoretically take their eggs and leave, but if the eggs are missing, gone without a trace, then the residents CAN’T LEAVE, because presumably the eggs are STILL THERE, SOMEWHERE, IN NEED OF HELP AND RESCUE, if only the residents could find them ON THE ISLAND. if they leave the island while the eggs are missing, they are abandoning these things that have become their children.

but then in came the brazilians. and shit went south. because see, the spenglish (spanish / english) streamers were INVITED, but the brazilians CRASHED; the feds didn’t INVITE THEM, they weren’t EXPECTING THEM, but they can’t let these guys leave either, so they PANIC, and they scramble to give the brazilians the same thing--something to lose. the new egg had a brazilian jersey, homie was TAILOR MADE for them to pack bond with. the feds didn’t have time to send out multiple eggs, it was all or nothing, so they picked something they could reasonably assume all five of them would find endearing because they don’t know shit about these guys--they had a week to observe the OG batch, but all they know about these newbies is the brazilian flag on their boat--and so they sent the little egg out to become THEIR THING, the thing they couldn’t afford to lose.

it leaves open why the eggs are cracked too, bc idk what’s going on there lol, either 1: the eggs cracked because they’re hatching and the feds picked that date bc they wanted to yoink the eggs before they got Too Powerful, or 2: the feds were the ones to crack the eggs as an excuse for why they vanished--returning the eggs untouched would open too many questions the feds don’t want them asking; this way, instead of being concerned specifically with “why were the eggs missing”, the residents presume they know the answer--the cracks.

but yea i’m just gonna add as an aside that personally i think cucurucho / osito bimbo / the white fucker is way more active again because the feds are still scrambling to keep up with the brazilians (which, again, the feds weren’t expecting), and the binary fuckwad came in to put the fear of god into the newbies--maybe so they didn’t get too focused on the morse code transmissions; iirc max was theorizing that both osito and binary were part of the federation ? and if so it does make sense that the binary entity went to fuck with cellbit immediately after cellbit was introduced to the conspiracies of the island, yknow, a warning shot. i think they want them to be focused on the eggs.

BUT THAT’S JUST A THEOr

[weirdal1997]

(im just yapping) but happy new year

almost

its around 19:30 or smth w/ me

have some attempts of me trying to remaster the textbox for my game lol

and smth im preparing for a deltarune thingy(Jevil, to be specific)

OKAY now i need to remaster the animations with sorrow and i can continue working SMOOTHLY...i hope im scared lmao

idk what else to say. the next devlog will come sooner or later i guess i need to set it up

uh i may or may not have an obsession with drawing jevil ahha(looks away) /hj

[almostvermin]

okay now that im actually confronting it this makes a whole lotta sense that im going to continue to ignore

[losinqdogs]

this show has ruined my fucking life

[artheresy]

I am crumbling I AM CRUMBLING

…I just…

I’ll go for Blade’s lightcone just so I can finally have Kafka, but after Kafka, I’m saving to eventually have E6S5 Blade, I just need at least one of her

But the urge to just go for him fully is so strong

Also holy shit, Dr. Ratio?? For free?? AND THEY MADE IT MATCH HIS LORE/PERSONAL VALUES??? That is genuinely so genius what the hell, he’s quickly becoming a fav

[url0calpr0sh1tt3r]

the fact y’all are letting jokes abt a fictional character upset you is concerning ngl

[swampghouls]

also had the weirdest experience at work today.

[zekkopunks]

I think I picked the best time to get off of twitter 😭

[kavehayati]

AURGHH I KEEP FLASHBACKING TO THE AWKWARD SITUATION TODAY

[slivermedal]

okay actually i think the samadhi fire episode was actually put in to. explain wtf actually happened to mei's samadhi fire

because in season 4 shifu subodhi referred to mei as a "former wielder" of the fire, and for some reason she just couldnt seem to use it at all and it was. never explained why or what happened to it

also ps i think you miswrote season five as season six under the one freenoodles screenshot

anyways thats just my two cents okay goodbye

HEAR HEAR!!! LMK S5 SPOILERS!

i, as an individual human being with free speech, have just finished the fifth season of monkie kid, thus i have THOUGHTS that must be shared.

OK BUT TO QUICKLY ACKNOWLEDGE WHAT PEOPLE HAVE BEEN WORRYING ABOUT FOR THE LONGEST TIME- THE ANIMATION.

it's... ok!

if anything, I GOTTA SAY, they are doing they're best! and it shows!

like okay, ofc the older seasons get better animation but like bro YOU GOTTA GIVE IT TO THIS ANIMATION STUDIO for sOmEwhAt keeping up with the animation!

One of the things I noticed is how they actually improve aimating the characters throughout the episodes, and that's pretty epic!

NOW, i wanna address the writing of s5!

It takes a moment of pondering and such for me to cooperate my thoughts into a neat paragraph of words but ALRIGHT-

The concept IS GREAT. The execution??? eh.

the first half of the show was OK, nothing more, nothing less.

the SECOND HALF of the show, now, they were cooking some really epic scenes, interesting concepts, damn good character interactions that *COULD'VE*, i say, COULD'VE been good, IF ONLY THE PACING was better.

here are some random nitpicks i have:

goofy ahh medusa monkie kid oc villian reveal was underwhelming, bruh- NOW HE'S COOL AND ALL, bro's got the sassiest voice ever oh fOR REAL THOUGH, BUT maaaannnn, he def could've used WAY MORE BUILDUP in the first five episodes of the season

that one samadhi fire episode with red son and mei was unneccesary, i think it exists just for dragonfruit content but in term's of shipping, the interactions between mei and red son weren't even that fluffy or romantic. :(

there are quite a few loopholes and, like, exxagerated moments that could've been fixed if the writers just paid more attention to, like ehhhhhh, u'll see moments here and now where the characters are kinda dumb for not doing this or that, etc

the writing and climaxes in past seasons were DEFINETLY better than season six, but okay lemme just say tho, maybe im coping real hard but HEAR ME OUT !!!

SEASON FIVE IS GOOD ENOUGH.

Ya'll shouldn't ghost this season just because the animation looks worse.

This is kinda like a Monkie Kid S1 situation, in which the show was still finding it's animation groove and the story was still in it's early cooking stages but LOOK AT WHERE S1 GOT US (psst psst s2-s4 were FIRE.)

IN MY HUMBLE OPINION,

i believe that the story buildup for the upcoming sEASON SIX of monkie kid will be fricking epic.

ah aH AH- NOT TO MENTION that the animators will inevitably improve, too!

I SAY, GUYS, instead of dumping this show and roasting it for it's so-so season 5, i say we support the team and the show! Let's show the cast and crew that monkie kid is WORTH investing the time into making better! BECAUSE MONKIE KID IS A GREAT ANIMATED SHOW.

AND LIKE GUYS i haven't even mentioned the silly little stuff i like about this show!

(those will be for future rants fr)

NEVERTHELESS. i've stated my case. please spread the word that SEASON FIVE OF MONKIE KID SHOULD BE WATCHED.

and i thank you.

[nicholasgoodgirl]

on set - nicholas chavez

summary: you came to bring nicholas food on set and he looks too good you gotta help him get off or maybe you're just doing it for yourself.

warning: oral (m receiving), almost caught ig.

a/n: i need this man bad 😩

--

i park my car and get the takeout my boyfriend asked me to get for him while he was on set.

i knocked on his trailer a few times then being met with him, Nicholas i can't lie he looked undeniably good.

a part of me feels bad because he's getting put into character for this role and i liked it. every bit of it.

the way his hair is styled, paired with the old money clothing. he was perfect. "you good?" not sure how long he was trying to get my attention but i just nod and walk into the trailer.

"you gonna be free tonight" i ask. Nicholas sits back down in the chair. "uh i don't think so" he checked the message he was given earlier this morning before coming to work

"yeah, no i won't be free why?" he asks giving me the perfect opportunity to perhaps get a quickie in before he has to actually get on screen again.

i walk up behind him, giving his shoulders a little massage then kissing his neck "I'd really liked if we could do something later" i try hinting to him that i wanted to fuck and im sure he caught on rather slowly than expected but he still did nonetheless.

"at work? what a needy girl" he coaxed. he took my hand in his and brung me infront of him.

nicholas manspreads his legs a bit so i can stand in between them "how bout you get that pretty little mouth to work then"

his cocky tone and the light pat on the side of my thigh; a signal for me to get on my knees sent my need for him through the roof.

i sunk to my knees not breaking eye contact. "this is what you wanted right?" he asked me with a smirk.

i give him a nod. but that wasn't enough for him he brings his thumb to my mouth dragging it across my lips "use your words baby" he cooed

"yeah- yes.. i want to do this." i fumble with his belt buckle, his eyes burning into my skull making me feel intimidated by his gaze.

i get the belt undone and pull his pants down, he lifts his hips a bit to help. "doin' so good already but-" he picks his phone up checking the time "-they're gonna need me in atleast 7 minutes" he places the phone back down.

his hard cock is freed from the confinement of his boxers. i put the head of his cock at my lips, kitty licking the tip before putting my mouth around him.

a low grunt is heard from him encouraging me to sink my mouth down further.

he grabs a handful of my hair and carelessly pushing my head down, i gag on his dick and im quick to remove my mouth off him "stoopp" i whine

"alright im sorry" he takes his hands away from my hair and puts them up surrendering.

a knock on the trailer door followed by a girl telling Nicholas he's needed on set. "5 more minutes!" he yells loud enough for the lady to hear from outside.

nicholas turns back to me and raises his eyebrows "see we don't have much time" he shrugs.

i wrap my mouth around him for the second time, already use to the length reaching the back of my throat.

he allows me to do whatever i please with my mouth; watching me take his length. i swallow around him and nearly choke when he accidentally jerks forward and thrusting down the back of my throat.

"shit.." nicholas drawls out throwing his head back at the feeling.

i change my pace, bobbing my head faster and using my hand to pump whatever i couldn't fit in my mouth. he whimpers softly, i looked up at him, his lips caught between his teeth, cheeks flushed and eyebrows knitted together while his eyes were screwed shut. perfect like i said before

"you're such a good girl f'me y'know that?" i hum in reaponse, the vibration around his cock made him moan loudly.

"sir are you ok?" the lady asked from outside; rattling the doorknob. "fine- just fine!" ,,give me one more minute please"

i swirl my tounge around his tip then using my hand to stroke him till he reaches his orgasm "m' close" he whimpers.

i put my mouth on the head of his cock and let him paint the back of my throat.

i wipe the sides of my mouth and rise from my knees while Nicholas pulls his underwear and pants back up. "lets finish up whenever i get home yeah?" he kisses my head and walks out the trailer.

[maybanksprincess]

seven minutes in heaven

warnings: suggestive but no actual smut, mature themes, dry humping, tongue kissing.

summary: a game of seven minutes in heaven leads to reader and jj stuck in a closet together.

pairings: childhood!bsf!jj x childhood!bsf!reader

requested by this ask (thank you anon!) i dont know much about the game, so if i got one of the steps wrong, im sorry in advance.

you and the rest of the pogues gathered together on a saturday night to drink beers, smoke weed, and play spin the bottle. typical pogue shit.

all of you were sat in a circle on the carpet in the living room floor of the chateau. there was a glass beer bottle in the middle of all seven of you.

for a half hour, the game was spin the bottle. everyone's facial expressions quickly grew bored. John B, and Sarah were talking about something totally different, Pope and Cleo gone to grab a new crate of beers.

After a few more moments of all of you staring at the wall blankly, Kiara's the first to break the awkward silence. "hey what's that game we all used to play when we were sophmores?" she asks, twirling a piece of her curly hair around her pointer finger.

after kiara speaks, jjs facial expression changes to one of interest. he thinks for a moment and then speaks, "the one where you get locked in a closet for like ten minutes?" he asks

Pope rounds the corner with a few beers tucked in his arm. Cleo not far behind him "seven minutes." he corrects, pointing a finger at him.

jj rolls his eyes at the correction and mimics a mouth with his hand, mocking his words "seven minutes" he says, trying his best to sound as much like pope as possible.

you flick the back of jjs neck, mumbling a shut up to him. he lets out a high pitched ow and rolls his eyes, but ultimately he stops his mocking.

John b turns back towards the group at the mention of the new game. "are we finally gonna play something other than spin the bottle? im kinda tired of landing on Sarah." he teases

Sarah shoves him playfully, and then turns back to the topic of conversation. "Yeah we should play, it sounds fun. how does it work?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.

Pope speaks up this time, "we spin a bottle for two people, whichever two people it lands on, they go in a closet together for seven minutes to do whatever they want." he adds with a hint of suggestion at the end of his sentence.

jj smirks and turns to look at you, memories of the last time you two played this game when you were fifteen, when you shared your first kiss.

it was the first kiss for both of you, so it was sloppy and had a lot of teeth and tongue, it was sickening to think about, but never forgotten.

jj pipes up next, "yup we can play. this games borin' anyways." he says with a shrug.

everyone else agrees and shifts themselves back into a circle on the carpet. Pope places the bottle in the middle, then darting his eyes from one pogue to another.

"so whos first?" pope speaks

jj doesn't waste a second in volunteering to go first. "me! uh- ill spin first." he says, clearing his throat. everyones eyes fly to jj, giving him a questioning look.

"dude you answered that way too fast." john b says with a growing smirk on his face, his eyes now flickering between me and jj sitting beside one another.

"dude shut up!" jj says, before reaching forward and spinning the glass bottle, he crosses his arms and sneakily crosses his fingers hoping, praying, that it lands on you.

everyones eyes are glued intensely to the bottle, the tension in the small room palpable.

eventually the bottle comes to a stop, the tip of it pointing right to your knee. jj has to hold back from jumping up and saying something like hell yeah!

he instantly stands up, holding his hand out for you to take. "cmon m'lady." he teases, and looks at you with his typical shit eating grin.

you roll your eyes and take his hand, standing up and walking to the closed closet with him.

"i bet everyone can guess what they're gonna do in that closet." john b says with a smirk, as he watches jj open the closet door and enter.

"gross! i dont even wanna think about it." kie adds on, then everyone starts to whisper about both of you in the open circle.

as you both get in the cramped closet, jj takes a seat on stacked boxes that clearly say "fragile" but he obviously doesn't seem to mind. he looks up at you still standing there awkwardly in the dimly lit space.

"seems oddly familiar, doesn't it?" he teases. your brain floods with memories of you and jj in the same situation back in sophomore year.

you both had been in this exact crammed closet, deciding you could both share you first kiss together. it was sloppy, uncoordinated, and you both were trying to figure out a comfortable spot to place your hands. it was an awkward and uncomfortable kiss, but it was stuck in your brain nonetheless.

"yeah, really familiar." you chuckle nervously, looking around, and tapping your foot on the ground. you avoid eye contact with the blonde, hoping this seven minutes would pass by quickly.

he notices your shift in mood, and he smirks. he spreads his legs and moves his arms behind his head as he speaks.

"you know, were in here for a whole seven minutes. we should put it to good use, right?" he was enjoying making you nervous, and teasing you.

when he doesn't get a response, he gently pulls you onto his lap so your straddling him. he looks up into your eyes in the dimly lit closet, with something you cant quite describe.

before you know it, your both leaning in slowly, jj is the one to connect his lips with yours. the kiss was gentle and chaste at first, your mouths moving passionately against one another.

jjs hands find their way to your waist, gently caressing the flesh. you take that as a sign to move your hands up his torso, then settling your arms around his neck, all while continuing to kiss him passionately.

the kiss grows more intense over time, your tongues fighting for dominance against one another. eventually you catch yourself grinding your hips against his, as you both makeout.

minutes go by, and he finds himself lost in your kisses and the way your grinding your hips against his. his cock doesn't take long to stir in his cargo shorts.

when you feel his buldge press up against you, your hips move a little faster, the kisses becoming more desperate. before you know it, a light is shining in the closet and the sound of the door creaking fills your ears.

you pull away from jjs lips briefly to look at who opened the door.

"seven minutes are up, lovebirds." john b says with a jerk of his head, motioning for you two to get out the closet with a smirk.

[lizziesangel]

hi lizzy !! using the tell me who did this” “who did this to you?” trope could u do sweetheart!fem reader with this and rafe !! 🤍

hi! i already did a story on this, so im making a part two to this!🥰

3.5k words ⟢ part one

the truck ride was quiet, save for the hum of the engine. you stared out the window, expecting rafe to take the usual turns toward your neighborhood. but as the minutes ticked by, your brows furrowed.

“uh, this isn’t the way to my house,” you pointed out, finally breaking the silence.

“i know,” rafe said simply, his gaze locked on the road ahead.

you turned to look at him, your confusion mounting. “then where the hell are we going?”

“my place,” he said flatly, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“your place? rafe, no. just take me home,” you argued, sitting up straighter.

“for the love of God,” he snapped, pulling into his driveway and putting the truck in park. he turned to look at you, his blue eyes burning with frustration. “stop talking and get out so i can clean you up.”

the way he said it left no room for argument. your mouth opened to retort but snapped shut just as quickly. begrudgingly, you unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed out, following him up the front steps like a scolded child.

inside, the house was quiet, the faint hum of the air conditioning the only sound. rafe didn’t say much, just jerked his head toward the stairs as he kicked off his shoes. you followed, your steps hesitant as you trailed him into his room.

“sit down,” he ordered, gesturing to the edge of his bed as he rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a first-aid kit.

you sat down, watching as he opened the kit and grabbed a clean cloth and a small bottle of antiseptic. the scent of his cologne lingered in the air, sharp and somehow comforting.

“this might sting,” he warned, crouching in front of you. his touch was surprisingly gentle as he dabbed at the dried blood on your knee.

you winced but stayed still, watching him work. his brows were furrowed in concentration, his usual smugness replaced with something quieter, steadier.

“start talking,” he said after a moment, his tone calmer now. “what happened with ruthie?”

you hesitated, the memory still raw. but there was something in the way rafe looked at you—like he genuinely wanted to know.

“she was saying stuff about kie,” you admitted, your voice soft. “calling her a trashy pogue, saying she was probably stealing from people at the party. i told her to shut the fuck up, and she got in my face. said i was defending kie because i’m just as pathetic as her.”

rafe’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t interrupt, just kept cleaning the cut on your knee.

“i told her to back off, and she shoved me. when i didn’t drop it, she swung at me. the rest is kind of a blur,” you finished, looking down at your hands.

“you’ve got a pretty big mouth, you know that?” he muttered, taking your leg gently in his hand to examine the cut on your knee. “and look where it’s gotten you.”

you rolled your eyes, though your lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smirk. “yeah, but i still won.”

rafe snorted softly, shaking his head as he worked. “yeah? i bet you think you were tough, huh?” he dabbed at the cut, and you hissed, instinctively jerking your leg.

“hold still,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. his grip on your calf tightened just enough to keep you in place as he cleaned the wound.

“ruthie didn’t walk away looking perfect, if that’s what you’re asking,” you said, a small flicker of pride lighting up in your voice. “you should’ve seen her.”

rafe smirked, glancing up at you briefly before returning his attention to your knee. “don’t worry,” he said, his tone casual but with an edge that made your chest tighten slightly. “i’ll see her. up close.”

the way he said it—calm, measured, but dripping with barely restrained fury—made your stomach twist. you tried to brush it off as typical rafe bravado, but the intensity in his eyes made it clear: he wasn’t joking.

“this is gonna sting,” he warned before gently pressing the damp cloth to your skin.

you winced, gritting your teeth but refusing to pull away this time. he worked slowly, his brows furrowed in concentration as he cleaned away the dried blood and dirt.

“there,” he said, sitting back slightly to look at his work. “now let me see your nose.”

you hesitated but didn’t fight him when he tilted your chin up, his fingers brushing against your jaw. his eyes narrowed as he studied the dried blood smeared beneath your nostrils. “it’s not broken,” he said after a moment. “just banged up.”

“thanks for the expert diagnosis, dr. cameron,” you muttered, earning a faint chuckle from him.

“hold this,” he said, handing you the damp cloth before pulling out another small ice pack. he wrapped it in a towel and gently pressed it to your swollen eye.

you flinched at the cold, but he held it steady. “don’t be such a baby,” he teased, though his voice lacked any real bite.

“i’m not,” you shot back, your glare softened by the faint tug of a smile.

he smirked again, shaking his head. “you really do have a big mouth,” he said, leaning back against his desk once more.

you matched his smirk with one of your own. “yeah, well, i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

rafe’s expression darkened slightly, but it wasn’t directed at you. “good,” he said simply, his tone quiet but carrying a weight that made your stomach twist.

the cold stung, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating off him—his sudden intensity making it hard to breathe.

rafe pulled the ice pack away, out of your grasp, his gaze lingered on your face. his eyes narrowed as his thumb brushed along your jaw, tilting your face to the side.

“hold on,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“what?” you asked, your voice harsher than you intended.

he didn’t answer at first, leaning in closer. you froze, your breath hitching as his thumb moved just beside the bruise on your cheek. “there’s a cut here,” he said, his tone lower now. “i didn’t see it before.”

“it’s nothing,” you mumbled, trying to pull away, but his hand on your jaw stopped you.

“don’t,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. his blue eyes locked onto yours, holding you in place. “let me clean it.”

you wanted to argue, but the words caught in your throat. you were suddenly hyperaware of how close he was, the sharp line of his jaw just inches from you, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air.

he grabbed a fresh cloth, wetting it in the bathroom before crouching back in front of you. this time, he didn’t just lean in—he was so close his knees brushed yours, his fingers gently tilting your face toward him.

“stay still,” he murmured, his voice softer now but heavy with something unspoken.

the sting of the antiseptic barely registered. all you could focus on was the way his thumb brushed against your skin, the way his eyes stayed locked on yours even as he worked. the tension in the air was thick, electric, every small movement of his hand sending sparks skittering down your spine.

“you’re staring,” you blurted out, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

rafe’s lips twitched, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “yeah?” he said, his voice a low drawl. “can you blame me?”

your breath caught, and you opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. his smirk deepened as he pulled the cloth away, his thumb lingering on your cheek for just a moment longer than necessary.

“there,” he said, his voice softer now. “all cleaned up. you’re lucky it’s not deeper.”

you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing. “thanks,” you mumbled, feeling a little unsteady under his gaze.

rafe didn’t move. he stayed crouched in front of you, his hand still resting lightly on your jaw. his eyes flicked over your face, studying every bruise and cut like they offended him personally.

“she really took you on, huh?” he said after a moment, his tone almost teasing but laced with something darker. “but don’t worry, i’ll take care of her.”

“rafe, you don’t have to—” you started, but he cut you off, his thumb brushing once more against your cheek before he stood.

“keep the ice on your eye,” he said, his tone suddenly businesslike as he packed up the first-aid kit.

you watched him move around the room, your mind still spinning from the charged moment you’d just shared. even as he turned away, you could feel the weight of his gaze lingering on you, like he wasn’t quite done with whatever was brewing between you.

and you weren’t sure if you wanted him to be.

rafe came back into the room after tossing the bloodied cloths and wrappers in the trash, running a hand through his hair. his shoulders looked less tense now, but his expression was unreadable as he glanced at you sitting there with the ice pack still pressed to your eye.

“you look like you’re about to pass out,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

“i’m fine,” you muttered in answer, though the exhaustion was catching up with you.

he tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. “you can take my bed if you want.”

your eyes snapped to his, narrowing. “no thanks. i’ll take the couch.”

rafe raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a smirk. “yeah, no. i’d rather have you dirty my bed than the ten-thousand-dollar couch.”

your jaw dropped. “you’re so stuck up.”

“and you’re about to sleep outside if you don’t shut up,” he shot back, but the slight grin on his face betrayed his teasing tone.

“okay, then i’ll walk home,” you said, shrugging, starting to push yourself up from the bed.

rafe’s amused expression immediately shifted to disbelief. “you’re not serious, right?”

you stood, wobbling slightly, and he rolled his eyes before stepping closer. “alright, that’s enough,” he said, lightly pressing his hand to your shoulder and guiding you back down onto the bed.

“lay down,” he said firmly, crossing his arms as he loomed over you. “keep the ice on your eye, but not too long. and put it on your knuckles too, because they’re gonna hurt like a bitch tomorrow.”

you frowned, looking down at your hands. now that he mentioned it, the dull ache in your knuckles was growing more noticeable. you sighed, sinking back into the bed and adjusting the ice pack against your eye.

“there,” rafe said, a smug note in his voice as he watched you obey. “was that so hard?”

“shut up,” you grumbled, but your tone lacked any real bite.

he chuckled, shaking his head as he grabbed a blanket from a nearby chair and tossed it over you. “just try not to bleed on my sheets,” he said, his voice softening as he lingered by the edge of the bed.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “thanks.”

his gaze softened for just a moment, but he quickly masked it with a smirk. “yeah, yeah. just don’t get used to it.”

as he turned to leave the room, you settled back against the pillows, exhaustion finally taking over. you might’ve hated to admit it, but being here—being taken care of by rafe—didn’t feel as strange as it should have.

and somehow, that was the most unsettling part of all.

you woke up slowly, the first thing you noticed was the throbbing inside your head. your temples pulsed in time with your heartbeat, and every inch of your body felt like it had been through a war.

lightheadedness crept in as you sat up, forcing you to take a moment to steady yourself.

your knee ached, the sharp pain radiating up your leg with every slight movement. your cheek stung, and the skin around your eye felt tight. tentatively, you reached up to touch it, wincing when your fingers made contact with your skin.

turning your head, you spotted a glass of water on the nightstand with a couple of painkillers neatly placed beside it. a small note was folded underneath them, scrawled in rafe’s sharp handwriting: take these. don’t be stubborn.

you picked them up and tossed them back quickly, chasing it with a gulp of water. the coolness soothed your dry throat, but the pounding in your head didn’t ease right away.

dragging yourself out of bed, you padded toward the bathroom, each step a reminder of the bruises and cuts decorating your body. your knuckles ached with every flex of your fingers, and you clenched them instinctively, regretting it immediately.

inside the bathroom, the faint light from the small window illuminated the counter.

you noticed your eye wasn’t that swollen anymore, but when you brushed your fingers lightly over the skin, you winced. it was tender and, judging by the dark blue tint you glimpsed at in the mirror across from you.

your cheekbone was tender with a faint scratch, and your knuckles were red and swollen.

“great,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair.

you turned toward the sink, expecting to just splash your face with water, but something on the counter caught your eye: a toothbrush still in its packaging, resting neatly beside the toothpaste.

you hesitated, glancing over your shoulder like someone might catch you. but you needed it, and the sight of your dry, cracked lips in the mirror was enough to convince you.

tearing open the packaging, you squeezed some toothpaste onto the toothbrush and began scrubbing. the minty foam stung your lips, but it was your knuckles that hurt the most. every motion sent a sharp, aching throb through your hands, and you had to grit your teeth to keep from crying out.

“damn it,” you muttered, pausing to flex your fingers gingerly. but you pushed through, brushing until your teeth felt clean enough, then rinsing your mouth and the toothbrush.

leaning against the counter for a moment, you let out a long breath, staring at your reflection. this was… a lot. too much. and yet, you couldn’t help but think about rafe—the way he’d taken care of you last night, the strange softness in his otherwise sharp demeanor.

as much as you wanted to hate it, part of you didn’t mind.

shaking your head, you turned off the light and shuffled back toward the bedroom, trying to ignore the aching in your body—and the confused thoughts swirling in your head.

as you sat on the edge of the bed, debating whether to lie back down or try to shake off your lingering dizziness, muffled voices from downstairs made you freeze.

they weren’t just voices—they were angry, sharp, and escalating quickly.

“what the fuck?” you muttered under your breath, standing up too fast and immediately regretting it. the dizziness hit hard, making you grip the edge of the bed to steady yourself.

you needed to check what was going on, but not in yesterday’s crumpled clothes. opening the dresser on the far side of the room, you shuffled through the contents. most of it was clearly rafe’s—a mix of crisp shirts and athletic gear. but toward the back, you found a pair of dark blue sweats that looked about your size.

and then you spotted it: a pink t-shirt, soft and slightly worn, the kind of thing you instinctively knew wasn’t rafe’s style. sarah’s, you guessed. it didn’t really matter, so you pulled it over your head.

the shouting downstairs grew louder.

“seriously,” you sighed, trying to pull the sweats on without hurting your knee and tying the drawstring before heading toward the stairs.

when you reached the bottom, the voices became distinct.

“why the hell were you helping her, man?” topper’s voice was loud and furious. you peeked around the corner to see him standing toe-to-toe with rafe in the kitchen. his face was becoming red, and his fists were clenched at his sides.

“shut the fuck up before you wake the whole house,” rafe snapped, his voice low but seething.

“the only person here is wheezie,” topper shot back, waving his arms. “and don’t act like that’s the problem. you are!”

rafe took a step closer, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl. “you’re the one yelling in my kitchen at eight in the damn morning, top. you need to fucking chill.”

topper didn’t back down. “chill? chill? ruthie said she hit y/n for a reason, bro. why the hell are you even involved? that girl’s not worth this.”

you froze, peering from the shadows as rafe straightened, his shoulders stiffening. “she’s worth not getting jumped by your psycho girlfriend,” he said coolly.

“she’s a fucking pogue!” topper yelled, his face twisting in anger.

rafe laughed, sharp and biting. “she lives on figure eight, you fucking weirdo. what are you even talking about?”

“doesn’t matter,” topper spat. “she’s trash, and if you’re protecting her, you’re just as bad. i’ll fucking kill her when i see her, for what she did to ruthie.”

your stomach dropped, and you instinctively stepped back.

rafe’s laugh was darker this time, the kind of sound that sent chills down your spine. “yeah? i’d like to see you try, bro.”

the kitchen fell silent except for the faint sound of your unsteady breathing. rafe had taken a step forward, his towering frame casting a long shadow over topper.

“you’re pushing it, man,” rafe said, his voice steady and dangerously calm. “if you have a problem with me, take it up with me. but if you so much as look at y/n the wrong way…” he trailed off, letting the weight of his words hang in the air.

topper looked like he wanted to say something, but the tension was suffocating.

you shuffled into view, clearing your throat. “hey,” you said, your voice shaky but loud enough to catch their attention.

both heads snapped toward you.

you watched as topper’s face twisted as his eyes landed on you, cycling through a chaotic mix of emotions—shock, disbelief, anger, and then a bitter fury. his tongue pressed against his cheek as a sharp, humorless laugh escaped him.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he sneered, glaring at rafe like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

rafe sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face like he was seconds from snapping. “top, just shut the hell up.” he stepped toward you, his hand brushing your arm to guide you back toward the stairs. “come on. let’s go.”

you frowned, resisting his pull. “wait, what’s going on?”

“she’s here?” topper’s voice was incredulous, loud enough to echo through the kitchen. he pointed at you, his finger shaking. “you’re actually keeping her here? what the fuck, rafe? she’s a pogue! she hangs out with those freaks on the cut—those wannabe rebels with their loser-ass surfboards and groupie bullshit!”

your stomach churned, but you didn’t get a chance to respond before rafe’s expression hardened.

“topper,” he warned, his voice low and deadly.

“no, bro!” topper exploded, gesturing wildly. “don’t stand there and act like she and kie didn’t see it happen last night. you know she’s not worth this!”

rafe’s jaw ticked, and he turned fully to face topper, a dangerous calm washing over him. “you’ve got ten seconds to get the hell out of my house.”

topper let out a disbelieving laugh, his tongue poking his cheek again as he tilted his head. “what the fuck are you doing, man? you’re choosing her? over me?”

“over you and over whatever bullshit you think matters right now,” rafe shot back, his voice sharp and unyielding. “and if you don’t walk out that door in the next five seconds, i’m calling my lawyer. i’ll have you trespassed so fast your head’ll spin.”

topper’s laugh turned into a snarl. “you’re fucking crazy.”

“maybe,” rafe said, his lips curling into a cold smirk. “but i’m also the guy who’ll have you eating court fees for breakfast if you don’t leave my house, now.”

the room fell silent except for the sound of your uneven breathing. topper glared at rafe, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. for a moment, you thought he might swing, but then he threw his hands up in exasperation.

“you’re out of your damned mind,” he muttered, turning toward the door before he stopped in his tracks, “and you, you’ll regret this,” he pointed towards you.

the slam of the door echoed through the house as topper left.

rafe turned to you, exhaling slowly, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. “come on,” he said, nodding toward the stairs. “let’s get you back upstairs.”

your brows furrowed as you followed him, still reeling. “what the hell was that?”

“don’t worry about it,” rafe muttered, his voice softer now, but the tension in his posture hadn’t fully eased.

you stood there, looking at rafe, feeling the silence grow thick between you. the weight of the last few minutes, the tension in the air, made it hard to breathe.

“did you and topper... fight because of the ruthie thing?” you asked, the words tasting strange as they left your mouth.

rafe didn’t answer at first. he ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated, and collapsed onto the edge of the bed, his jaw clenched.

you waited, but still, nothing.

“rafe?” you pressed again, stepping closer to him.

he looked up at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. then, in a low voice, he muttered, “yeah, i was arguing with him.”

your stomach tightened at the thought. “why?”

“why?” rafe scoffed, standing up abruptly. “because that guy has no fucking boundaries. because he's an asshole, and i don’t like the way he treats you.”

you opened your mouth to respond but were cut off by your phone buzzing in your pocket.

you pulled it out, your stomach sinking when you saw the screen light up with ruthie’s name.

before you could even process it, the screen flashed with her message:

ruthie:

“round two? come on, i’ll make sure it’s fair this time.”

you stared at the message, your hands trembling in pain as you locked your phone.

rafe caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, his gaze “she really thinks she can just go after you again?” his voice was like ice, but there was a dangerous edge to it that made your chest tighten.

“rafe, just calm down,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. you took a small step back, but it didn't stop him from pacing across the room, his jaw clenched, his frustration seeping through every muscle in his body.

“calm down?” he repeated, turning to face you, his voice rising. “she’s out there talking shit about you, threatening you—after what happened last night? you think i’m just gonna stand by and let her do that?”

“it’s not worth it,” you said, your words tumbling out before you could stop them. “why does it even matter to you, rafe? you argued with topper at eight in the morning. you’re in the middle of your own mess. this... this isn’t your problem.”

he took a step toward you, and you could feel the air between you crackling. “it’s my problem because you’re my problem,” he said, his voice low, his eyes locking onto yours.

you froze at his words, your heart thudding in your chest. the world around you seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. his gaze held something you couldn’t quite place—something fierce, but vulnerable at the same time.

“i’m your problem?” you repeated, almost whispering, trying to wrap your mind around what he was saying.

rafe stepped closer, his breath just a little too close to yours. “yeah, you are.” he reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of your face, his fingers grazing your cheek in a soft, deliberate touch.

you could barely breathe, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, the heat of his body radiating toward you. every inch of space between you seemed to be disappearing with each passing second.

“rafe,” you whispered, your voice shaky, uncertain.

“i’m not letting anyone hurt you,” he said, his words a promise—an almost reckless determination in his tone.

you were so close to him now that you could feel the intensity of his gaze. everything around you seemed to fall away as the world seemed to hold its breath.

his lips hovered inches from yours, and for a heartbeat, you were both still, both locked in that moment, waiting for something to shift.

and then—

ding.

the sound of your phone vibrating broke the spell.

rafe pulled back, frustration flashing in his eyes as he glanced down at the screen.

you could feel your stomach churn as he read ruthie’s message.

ruthie:

“you’re not getting away that easy. you know you want to.”

“i’ll see you soon.”

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