#where sarah could've lived

[hurtspideyparker]

If Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together Part 2

Read Part 1 and Part 3

Tony: Why is Underoos mopping the ceiling?

Sam: Told him since he's sticky that's his chore

Bucky: It's only fair he helps out around the house

Tony: Hm. Makes sense

-

Vision cooked dinner:

Peter: *pushing around food to make it look eaten*

Natasha: *surreptitiously spitting into napkin*

Steve: *taking small bites with tons of water*

Bucky: *just stares at full plate*

Tony: Well this is disgusting, I'm ordering pizza

-

Sam: C'mon man stop moping around, you gotta get yourself a girl

Bucky: Ok.

Sam: Ok? Okayyyyy! I know-

Bucky: Give me your phone

Sam: Oh you got a number in mind already hotshot? *hands phone over*

Bucky: *ring* Hi Sarah ;)

Sam: BOY-

-

Peter: Ned thought you would seperate your colours from your lights but he also thought you'd be homophobic so I don't pay him much mind cuz clearly I'm more of a superhero expert than him but he does have a 2% better average than me in history so like maybe you do hand wash your clothes and that's why I asked what underwear you wear because-

Steve: *listening intently with apprehension and alarm*

Natasha: I can't believe you found the one person on Earth who talks more nonsense than you

Tony: I know right, it's incredibly unnerving. I'm planning on adopting him

-

Peter: Mr. Stark I have to tell you something. I think Vision is a... *whispers* pervert

Tony: Um, why?

Peter: He keeps floating through my room without knocking! He saw me changing, he saw my nipples !

Tony: Well if anyone's a predator here it would be you. I mean showing your nipples to a 2 year old? Deplorable.

Peter:

Peter: Oh god, I'm the pervert...

-

Bucky: Y'know animosity isn't good between teammates. I think we should spend more time together

Sam: Am I being punked right now? Where's the camera

Bucky: I'm serious. I think it would be healthy for us to bond

Sam: Okay fine I'll bite... what did you have in mind

Bucky: Wanna go for a run?

Sam: *slams door in Bucky's face*

-

*staring at Bucky's sparkly clean metal arm*

Bucky: Dishwasher?

Peter: Dishwasher :)

(later that day)

Bucky: I've decided to let the child live

Peter: YoU wHaT?!

-

Thwip

Tony: Who took my coffee cup, It was right here

Thwip

Bruce: Um, has someone seen my book? I just had it

Thwip

Steve: I could've sworn I was holding a pen a moment ago

*giggling from the ceiling*

Tony: Young man I will take those webshooters away if you use them for shenanigans and rascality

Peter, muffled: Mr. Hawkeye told me to!

Clint: Oh so you're just gonna rat me out like that?

Peter: Sor- OOF

*falls out of ceiling vent*

-

Sam: You're in my spot

Bucky: There are no spots, it's a common area

Sam: Well that's my spot

Bucky: Did you buy the chair??

Sam: No, but everyone knows that's where I sit. Right Steve?

Steve: Oops I forgot something in my car, be right back *leaves*

Sam: Still my spot

Bucky: Still not

Sam: *sits on him*

Bucky: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL THE COUCHES ARE FREE-

Sam: IT'S MY SPOT YOU CAN'T TAKE A MAN'S FAVOURITE CHAIR-

BUCKY: YOU HAVE ISSUES GET OFF ME-

(one hour later)

Steve: Hey so turns out I don't have a car! Isn't that funn...

Sam & Bucky: *Squeezed awkwardly on the chair together*

Steve: I think I left something in my car

-

Steve: Leave the bedroom door open when you have Vision in there

Wanda: UGH you're so protective

Tony: Teenagers, am I right? Caught Pete reassembling my particle accelerator at midnight because he needed to neutralize a miniature nuclear bomb he nabbed off some guy he neglected to tell me was trying to kill him

Steve:

Steve: Wanda y'know what do whatever you want

Wanda: Really?

Steve: Yes just keep being normal. At least I can read about our issues in a parenting book

-

Thor: Ah, new warriors I see! Good to make all your acquaintance. But why are you so grumpy my friend?

Bucky: *glaring*

Peter: He's always like that. It's um, P- P- PMS? Wait -

Natasha: Yes it's PMS

Wanda: He's got it bad

Steve: *genuinely concerned* Bucky you didn't tell me something was wrong. What can I do to help?

Bucky:

Bucky: I like chocolate

-

Wanda: Welcome to the first annual girls night! This place reeks of men, so I thought we needed some women time

Pepper: Why is Vision here?

Wanda: I get sad when he's gone

Natasha: Why is Pietro here?

Pietro: Slay queens

Wanda: Moral support I think

Maria: Why is Peter here?

Wanda: He looked really upset when I said he wasn't included and I felt bad

Wanda: Anyways... yay girls! Who wants me to paint their nails?

Peter: ME ME ME

-

Steve: Pancakes or waffles?

Natasha: Pancakes

Steve: Good because I don't have a waffle maker

Natasha: Then why would you ask-

Steve: It's important for your voice to be heard, as team leader I value your opinion

*2 minutes later*

Steve: Good morning Clint, pancakes or waffles?

Clint: Waffles

Steve: Oh no.

-

Some of these were based on requests (ex. more Sam & Bucky, dad Steve w/ Wanda) so if you have certain dynamics you enjoy let me know !

[wondergotham]

You Look Like You Love Me

Request: “can you make a joaquin torres imagine where sam basically raised you and was your father figure. after some time, you grow up and then joaquin comes into the picture. we meet and fall in love blah blah blah. please!!”

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Reader

Warning: Mentions of blood & death

Your father’s name was Riley. Riley Y/L/N. He was a pararescue for the Air Force and your Uncle Sam’s best friend.

They were both selected to be test pilots for the EXO-7 Falcon.

Tragically, your father was killed during the mission by an RPG.

Your Uncle Sam ended his Air Force service after this and was left with guilt and turmoil. Even though there was nothing he could've done it still haunted him.

You were 12 years old, left without both of your parents.

Your mom passed away a few days after she gave birth. You never met her, but you had many memories of your father and Uncle Sam.

Sam had known you his whole life.

He was there when your father told him he was going to be an uncle, he was at the hospital after your mother gave birth, when your father asked him to be your godfather…..and so on.

He was there for you both. Even years later.

So when Riley died he knew he couldn't let the government take you away. Not when he knew he could raise you.

He was going to keep his best friend's promise.

Sam knew he would never be able to raise you the way Riley and your mom would have. But he could try. And maybe he would need Sarah’s help…but he knew he could do it.

He had to. For his best friend.

“Sam, you have to promise me, brother, if something happens to me you'll take care of Y/n.”

Not a day goes by that Sam doesn’t think about what his best friend told him.

He remembers it clear as day.

The hand Riley placed on his shoulder and how he stared into his soul. It’s almost as if he knew something would happen to him.

Sam was taken aback. He was going to throw in a joke but his best friend's expression said it all.

He was serious.

It was Sam's turn to place his hand on Riley's shoulder. "Riley. I promise you I will protect and take care of Y/n. She's my goddaughter, my family, you can always count on me."

Riley nodded.

"Thank you Sam. My little girl and I are lucky to have you in our lives."

After that moment everything happened so fast. Riley's funeral, you receiving the burial flag, his will being read.

Riley Y/L/N was known for his infectious laughter and unwavering loyalty to those he loved. He had a vibrant life filled with adventure, but his greatest joy was being a father to you, his spirited daughter.

The bond you shared was unique, filled with bedtime stories, impromptu dance parties, and countless adventures in the backyard.

As you approached your 12th birthday, your father began to ponder about the future. He wanted to ensure that should anything happen to him, you would be safe and cared for.

After much reflection, he decided to draft his will, a task that was daunting but necessary.

"In the event of my death, I designate my best friend, Samuel Thomas Wilson, as the legal guardian of my daughter, Y/n Y/l/n. I trust him to provide her with love, guidance, and the support she deserves."

Riley signed the document with a sense of peace, knowing that Sam would be a steadfast guardian. They had always been there for each other, navigating life's storms side by side.

Sam was a natural choice, someone who understood his values and shared his dreams and love for you.

Sam, standing at the front of the court, felt a ripple of emotions. He had always known how much Riley loved you, and now he was entrusted with your future.

Despite the overwhelming sadness, he felt a sense of purpose ignite within him. He stepped forward, his heart heavy but determined. He looked at the judge.

"I promise to honor Riley's wishes," He affirmed, his voice steady. "Y/n will always have a home with me. I will be there for her, just as Riley would have wanted."

With that promise, Sam embraced his new role as your guardian. He moved you into his and Sarah's home, surrounded by memories that felt both comforting and heart-wrenching.

The first few weeks were challenging; you were still grappling with your grief, and Sam was navigating the complexities of parenthood.

In the months that followed the house was filled with laughter and love. Sam made sure to keep your father's memory alive, sharing stories of their adventures and teaching you the values your father held dear.

You both shared stories of him, laughing and crying as you remembered the man who had brought you two together.

One evening, as you both sat together on the porch, you looked up at Sam, your eyes filled with uncertainty. “Do you think Dad is watching over us?” You asked.

Sam nodded, his heart aching for your loss. “I believe he is. And I think he wants us to be happy, and continue living our lives to the fullest. He loved you so much Y/n. I know I'm not your dad sweetheart but I promise you will always be safe and loved. I will always be here for you, okay?"

"I know Uncle Sam. You know, my dad loved you too. He always said you were the brother he never had. He said something about you and him being the less rich version of Dr. Dre and Eminem."

Sam snorted before throwing his head back with laughter.

"Yeah, that sounds like your father."

As the months turned into years, Sam encouraged you to pursue your interests, from academics to sports, always reminding you that you were capable of achieving your dreams.

Though your father was gone, the love he had instilled in your lives continued to thrive, a testament to friendship, family, and the enduring power of love.

════════ ⋆★⋆ ════════

Now several years later your bond was stronger than ever. After a lot of hesitation and lectures, Sam let you become an Avenger.

He knew your father would have wanted that for you. You both shared the passion to protect and help people.

You joined the Avengers when Tony brought Peter to the airport battle in Germany. (Not that you remember, because you didn't anymore)

Since then you've been helping the world and your Uncle/Godfather as Y/H/N. (Your hero name)

Earlier Sam received a call from President Ross. He was sending the both of you and Joaquin to Oaxaca, Mexico for a mission.

Luckily your uncle had been working with Joaquin for 3 years now so you were able to spend more time on the field kicking ass instead of being behind the computer.

Those days were long gone.

Sam did this because he still was hesitant about you joining on some missions. Despite the fact that Tony, Natasha and Steve continued to train you after Thanos had snapped half of the population away.

Your Uncle was one out of the many gone but you were left untouched. You had to live 5 years without the man that had became a second father to you.

To make a long story short you were a completely different person when Sam came back. You were all grown up.

You were a stronger, quicker, and more skilled fighter. But in the years that Sam was gone you also managed to set up a foundation named after your father.

The Riley Y/L/N Foundation, there was also a scholarship named after him and an award. Sam could not be more prouder. You had done great things in the time that he was gone.

He liked to believe him and Riley raised you well.

Now when it came to boys, Sam was definitely overprotective. He said,"No dating until you're 30." But that obviously wasn't going to happen.

Sure you had a few crushes here and there but they never became anything more.

Sam was certain he wouldn't have to worry about any guy coming into your life until he realized how big of a crush Joaquin had on you.

He did everything he could to delay the moment when you two would meet.

Today, it was out of his control.

Sam walked in first and you followed next to him.

As you step into the room, you feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Your attention is immediately drawn to Joaquin.

You feel a rush of anticipation. He’s cute, you think, noticing the way he fidgets slightly—a sign of his own nerves.

It makes you feel strangely comforted, as if you’re both navigating this moment together.

As Joaquin stands by, he feels a flutter of nerves in his stomach when he first sees you enter the room.

Wow, he thinks, she’s stunning.

You’re wearing a simple but beautiful dress under your white blazer that catches the light just right, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

His heart races as he notices the way your hair falls softly around your shoulders, framing your face.

"Joaquin?" Sam snapping his fingers instantly made the young man to look up at him.

Oh God it's bad, Sam thought.

"Sorry, you were saying?" He shook his head trying to refocus. There's no way he just made a fool of himself in front of you already.

The small giggle that escapes your lips is like music, and Joaquin can’t help but smile, feeling warmth spread through him.

"I want you to meet my niece and goddaughter Y/n L/n also known as-"

"Y/H/N." Joaquin finished.

"She's going to be joining us on the mission today."

You caught the way he froze like a deer in headlights but found it adorable.

What if she doesn’t like me? The thought flickers through Joaquin's mind, but it quickly fades as he recalls your smile.

This must be what they mean by love at first sight, he muses, a mix of excitement and disbelief washing over him.

He feels his cheeks heat up, wishing he could muster the confidence to say something without stumbling over his words.

Just be yourself, he reminds himself, taking a deep breath.

As you move closer, he prepares himself, ready to embrace whatever magic might come from this first meeting.

He takes a steadying breath, feeling both excitement and anxiety swirling in his stomach.

Finally, gathering his courage, he steps forward, his heart pounding like a drum. His step feels monumental, he knows he can’t let this chance slip away.

“Hey, I’m Joaquin, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm a huge fan of your work both on and off the field."

He extends his arm waiting for you to shake his hand. You feel a warmth spread through you.

His voice might be a bit shaky, but there’s an earnestness in his words that captivates you.

"Especially with everything you have done to preserve your father's legacy. It's incredible.” He smiles, his voice slightly shaky but warm, hoping to convey his genuine interest.

He’s different, you think, appreciating how he seems genuinely interested in you.

When your hand finally meets his he swears he could have flatlined in that moment. Your hand is small but soft with a gentle yet firm grip.

Your eyes sparkle with curiosity. “Thank you Joaquin that's very sweet of you I really appreciate it. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, I've heard a lot about you.”

The moment your eyes lock, a spark ignites within him. He feels an electric connection, as if the world around you has faded into the background.

You feel a spark—a sense of possibility.

Could this be something special? The thought comes through your mind, making your heart race even faster.

You find yourself leaning in, drawn to his sincerity and charm. It's so easy to talk to him.

For the first time in a while, you feel giddy and hopeful about what might unfold between you both.

"All good things I hope." Joaquin chuckles nervously.

"And nothing but, I promise." You wink.

Dios mío, he thinks.

For a split second one of Joaquin's knees gives in but he quickly recovers by standing back up straight.

It went unnoticed to you as you glanced at your phone but not to Sam.

In that moment, Joaquin feels a rush of hope. Maybe this is the start of something special.

He realizes that this simple conversation is not just a moment; it’s the beginning of a connection he’s been yearning for.

"Okay sweetheart let me show you where you can put your gear. We're gonna be taking off soon." Sam wraps his arm around your shoulder leading you away.

You nodded excitedly looking at Joaquin before following your uncle, "I'll see you later Joaquin."

"Yeah, of course." He smiles.

Sam looks at him mouthing a no and shaking his finger before walking out with you.

Joaquin just chuckles quietly.

He can’t help but feel a sense of excitement about this unexpected connection. He enjoyed the small moment, already imagining the laughter and adventures you might share in the future.

Little did he know, you were doing the same.

════════ ⋆★⋆ ════════

A/N:

If you use the page break above give credits. Thank you.

[astrababyy]

i really like this. i feel like feyre and tamlin had the kind of relationship pre-acomaf that sort of dug both of them out of a hole they’d been in. and both of them just expecting that it would be the same with their relationship in acomaf, where their love for each other would be enough to heal their wounds, is a really natural progression of their relationship.

tamlin wouldn’t be retconned to hell, but if he internalized a feeling of guilt over all the deaths in the spring court as well as feyre’s own, it’d make sense that he’d feel like he needed to overcompensate after being so lax and free in the first book. this would correlate really well with feyre, who maybe is avoiding the responsibility that comes with what she did utm and secretly questions whether it was all worth it. so she pins the blame of it on other people instead of herself so she doesn’t have to accept her own reality.

i also like the idea of feyre’s dark side in acotar. i feel like that being emphasized even more in acomaf, where she has just been turned fae and feels like she’s succumbing to the faeries’ innately darker nature, would be interesting in tandem with their relationship.

sometimes i think about how the acotar books could've been a great way to show that "love doesn't heal trauma" rather than whatever points sjm was trying to make about abusive relationships and sa. instead of tamlin being abusive, she could've written that feylin's individual traumas kept them from reaching out to each other. or that feyre felt suffocated by the perfect, idyllic and alive spring court when she felt the opposite on the inside. or that tamlin felt overwhelmed by the sudden influx of responsibilities as he's trying to rid himself of the nightmares from utm. they try to make it work. they try to replicate some of the dates and dances from book #1 but there's an almost tangible shadow over their relationship now. and maybe one day feyre sees a memorial for andras or a likeness to one of the high fae living in the spring court to one of the high fae she killed utm, and has a panic attack. and this serves as the catalyst that severs feylin's relationship and reveals that yes, their love broke a curse, their love saved prythian but it couldn't (and shouldn't) heal them.

[amarriageoftrueminds]

inspired by this post, here are some headcanons and meta about Steve & Bucky and queerness pre-war.

.

Sarah Rogers:

This idea of Sarah's awareness/acceptance of queerness, doesn't necessarily have to be a function of her living in NYC.

If we go with the idea that Steve's parents were Irish immigrants, and Steve was born in 1918... Well that gives Sarah time to have been living in Ireland during the Easter Uprising.

Steve Rogers's mother is obviously going to be involved with that, probably a member of the Irish womens' paramilitary group Cumann na mBan. (Would've also brought her into contact with Suffragists, Socialists, and Trade Unionists to pass that onto Steve, if she wasn't into all that already.)

And y'know who else were involved? A fucktonne of lesbians, that's who (including more than one female doctor and even one butch sniper!)

(My personal headcanon is that she was a nurse on the front lines in 1916, and actually left Ireland because she was in danger of getting arrested if she stayed. She met post-WWI-injury naturalised-American Joseph, either in 1916 while he was visiting Ireland (his home country) and they fought together, or in NYC, after he had been invalided home in 1917, then they married and had Steve in 1918.)

So if Sarah was a part of the Easter Uprising, she could've come into contact with/been accepting of lesbians, at least, long before she set foot in NYC.

You could so easily have her attitude as being like 'ah so there are men like that too, are there??'

.

Gay-Community Steve:

It is hard for me to reconcile 'bloody-mindedly honest, terrible liar' Steve with being gay and knowing he's gay, and not being open about it, in a self-destructive-for-the-period way.

So either he was so deeply in the closet that he himself didn't know yet, and so hadn't been a part of a gay community with gay friends because he literally didn't know to look for one.

(Like, he and Bucky are a couple and sleeping together for years, but Steve is so naive or in denial he thinks it's just a thing all bachelors do in the absence of a girl they're going to marry.)

OR...

CATFA's view is the propagandised version of events, and Steve actually did know he was gay, and was out to his friends, and the real reason Captain America kept getting rejected for active service is not because of his disabilities but because... he kept admitting to being gay?

And it was only after he got serum (and got in the news), that his public records were expunged to cover up the fact that their darling supersoldier (good and pure and Therefore straight! or perhaps asexual!) ...had broken the law; both by being gay and by falsifying his enlistment forms multiple times.

(Kind of like how how celebrities get a suspect 4F or dodge the draft, and their PR team makes up a more-palatable lie to feed to the public. Like how Frank Sinatra got rejected for active service on psychiatric grounds, but pretended it was because of an inner-ear problem.)

.

So, if Steve did have rainbow connections, where are they?

Possible reasons (beyond hate crimes, imprisonment or institutionalisation), why it looks like Steve only has the one friend:

Steve could also have had friends in the disabled community and lost them to illness?

Lost friends to the Depression/poverty, or had to move away from NYC for economic reasons?

Lost friends to internment (it wasn't just Japanese-Americans!), deportation, or lavender marriages (felt their new concentration on children and straight-passing made them strangers?)

had friends who were not enlisted, but we didn't see them because when we first meet Steve it's the middle of the day and they were all busy working?

had queer friends but: they were all enlisted by the time CATFA rolls around, and/or already died in the Spanish Civil War?

had queer friends but: they were all in the Navy and kept getting in fights with Steve about the Army being superior.

had queer friends but: they were introduced to Steve by Bucky, and 9/10 were actually friendzoned guys harbouring secret hopes and weren't exactly ecstatic to find out that Bucky was taken -- or, even worse, didn't see Steve as competition at all! -- and therefore never formed a good relationship with Steve. ('Jeez Steve why can't you n' these guys ever seem to get along? He was always so nice to me!' 'I know Buck, it's a mystery.' 😏)

had queer friends but: every time he went to a gay bar the men he could've befriended avoided him to hit on Bucky, or avoided him because he was hitting on Bucky, or avoided him because Bucky was hitting on him (and giving them the stink eye), or both of them were avoided because they were too... distracted to pay attention to anyone else.

(And/or the lesbians that talked to Steve all sidled up thinking he was a beautiful butch woman, then panicked once he opened his mouth, or were only there to ask if that friend of his was 'the double-date guy.')

imagine cops running Steve down outside a gay bar to arrest him for being a woman wearing pants… (Bucky would not let him hear the end of it.) And then being like 'oh! uhh sorry sir…' (two second pause before they suddenly clock that Steve and Bucky are a gay couple) 'Wait a second-' (Steve and Bucky already running.)

Maybe Steve would even become reluctant to go to the clubs, out of a fear of losing Bucky to someone else? Or Bucky reluctant to go for the same reason, and because Steve just attracts bad luck? (See: mob-related stuff below.) Both of them just sick of having run-ins with the cops?

had queer friends but: his views were so ahead of his time that even they found him too much.

(IE. barred from the gay bath house for protesting ableist body standards, the lack of POC, fighting the police too hard during a raid, and/or criticising the mob owners... Maybe Steve eventually couldn't go to any gay club, because he was in shit with the mob? Maybe the police actually thought he was straight, because they'd seen his photo up behind the bar as a persona non grata in gay clubs?! Future idiots will say this is 'proof' he stands for 'Traditional American Values.')

Banned from politics club for criticising Stalin's regime; barred from the jazz club for fighting a white dude there; banned from the radical womens group for bringing a trans friend; banned from the trade union for attacking the mob / wanting to fix union and police corruption. (Has he been excommunicated yet? It's probably only a matter of time.)

Picture hapless social-secretary Bucky helping Steve limp home from yet another Club that Bucky got him into, and having to listen to Steve rant about why 'they're all a bunch of hypocrites, Buck!' Perhaps homebody introvert Steve, secretly wanting to stay in, while extrovert Bucky keeps trying to help him get out more, and every time Bucky thinks he's found Steve the perfect place this time, Steve's all like 'we'll see.'

had queer friends but: he was so open about it that he was alienated by potential friends who wanted to remain on the DL and considered him dangerous. (Perhaps especially so, if they were / or about to be enlisted and didn't want to risk a blue discharge, and couldn't sanction the way Stevee blatantly proclaimed his orientation at recruitment stations? 🤔 Whereas Bucky was so invested, and had cultivated such a lady killer rep, that he can not-worry about being seen with Steve.)

Or: he was on the DL and was alienated by potential friends who weren't, and looked down on him for passing?

Or: he was estranged from gay friends who did the same thing he did (ie. declared their orientation during recruitment) but because they actually wanted to dodge the draft, etc.

Also consider: gay Steve and gay Bucky, both aware of their sexuality but not out to each other yet... independently going to any of the numerous gay hot spots in Brooklyn, seeing each other there, and fleeing in horror before they can make any friends, thinking 'omg why was he there? did he follow me?? does he know?!' And not figuring it out... because they are just genuinely that dumb.

Likewise, both of them in the pre-out phase, thinking 'well I can't risk having gay friends because they'd have to be a part of my life and then Bucky/Steve will find out!!' ...because they are just genuinely that dumb.

There are actually loads of options!

You could definitely do a have-your-cake-and-eat-it version of events where Steve has been part of a wider queer community, made friends, and yet still wound up having only one who stood by him. (There has to be reason why 'even when I had nothing, I had Bucky' would be true).

.

Other Possibilities:

Steve and Bucky double-dating beards / playing mirkin to lesbian couples? = Hell yes.

(Sidenote: I also headcanon Bucky as having a gay sister, so maybe she could've been Steve's plus one, or they'd take out all Bucky's sisters to act as chaperones?)

Shit, why not turn it into a business? Bucky the Escort who gives his lesbian client a cover date, a great night of dancing, and a second cover-escort guaranteed to not steal her girl!

(Service comes complete with beautiful handwritten love letters (dictated by Bucky, penned by artist!Steve), a personalised sweetheart-style photo of Bucky, and a messy Public Break Up Scene on her stoop.😉)

RE: them moving in together: everyone talks about how queer Brooklyn was, but what if the boys went above and beyond for their own safety -- February House style -- and lived in a building exclusively populated by queer people? Maybe by queer members of the forces, or people who occupied humble positions in creative industries?

If Steve has lesbian friends from BK, and lesbian friends in the chorus line... why not both at the same time? Why not have some of those lesbian friends be Brooklyn girls who signed up to be chorus girls because- y'know -chorus girls, and were then like 'Steve?! Wtf are you doing here?!'

(Why not kill three birds with one stone: one of those chorus girls is Bucky's sister? Cue Spidermenpointing_meme and mutual assured blackmail -- she promises not to tell Bucky what Steve did if Steve promises not to tell Bucky that one of his sisters has run away from home to become a showgirl.)

Bucky as the social butterfly of the two, more likely to be out and about, especially in risky places (ie. he worked on the docks; he could actually get and keep jobs in those places), and/or the safer one, and given their later pattern of Bucky's friends becoming Steve's (ie. the Howlies)... I think Bucky would be more likely to be the one making eye-opening introductions to Steve rather than the other way around. Which could have interesting knock on effects... (see above).

Maybe he got Steve a lucrative job illustrating queer 8-pagers (maybe there's an underground queer magazine out of BK, a la The Circle, and he illustrates for that, using Bucky as a model? Cue hilarious 'what were you doing at the Devil's Sabbath?' moments when random men come up to Bucky in the street like 'where do I know your face from??' 😱)

.

Re: Extended Family

I also headcanon that Bucky had a gay Uncle Jim (maybe a tailor?) who was institutionalized for being gay, and received harrowing medical treatments like electroshock therapy that eventually resulted in his death.

So by the time Bucky -- named after his dead uncle -- started showing signs of being bi, Bucky's parents had already had their eyes opened. Or maybe, like Sarah, they had already emigrated from a specific open-minded situation, so queer Brooklyn wasn't such a revelation.

Alternatively: In Stucky fic, people often seem to think as far as 'Brooklyn was queer!' but no farther.

But why not? Why does their queer education have to have started in queer Brooklyn?

Why not have Bucky's or Steve's (or both!) parents be engaged in Lavender Marriages, and open about it? One gay parent, or both?

(This might be another reason why Steve appears to not have friends outside Bucky; he might have got all the queer community he needed from his own family unit. Imagine it! Not just connected to Brooklyn queers but Edwardian queers, darling! The Herstory!!)

What if Steve's mother wasn't single but simply... 'never married?' 👀 Or maybe she was straight, but in love with her late lavender husband?

.

And during/after the war:

Re: the Howlies.

(Have brought this ficbunny up elsewhere)

The Howlies knew and were fine about it, because... maybe there was an official investigation during the war to establish whether or not any of the Howlies were gay and/or in a relationship with Steve.

So, being a bunch of professional mischief-makers, and acting completely independently, the Howlies all pulled an 'I am Spartacus!' and claimed to be gay and in a relationship with Steve, under interrogation.

Steve also admitted to being gay, because he is terrible at lying and had to stand by them when he was told all his men admitted they were gay.

(Except for Bucky. He kept his head during interrogation -- sadly, not his first rodeo.)

So Bucky went down in hastily-redacted Army Record as somehow the only straight Howling Commando??

(The interrogators couldn't tell if they were being made fun of or not, and in any case the scandal was considered absolutely monstrous and a terrible blow for morale, so it was immediately covered up and no further steps were taken.)

Ironically enough, Steve & Bucky weren't even the only queer Howlies!

.

The Future:

Seeing gay marriage legalised, the Stonewall riots, openly queer films and celebrities and tv shows, queer pride parades etc. etc. would be heart-breaking for Steve... because of course by this point he has become Captain America, deluded women he barely knows have spent decades claiming to have been his true love, and the people that did know him have been loyally covering up for him claiming he's straight. He'd feel like a hypocrite for not being what they said; or like he's letting them down by unmasking all their hard work.

And of course his real beloved isn't here any more, when he's finding all this out he's totally alone, no one to share it with, (doesn't know if any of his other friends are still alive, yet). And he doesn't want to have to relive that pain over Bucky by being interrogated on his love life...

Plus, after a century of being mythologised, he associates coming out with even wider public furore and a violation of the privacy that Steve Rogers never gets to have.

So all he has is the private escape of the 20th century's queer cinema, literature, tv shows, and porn (which all feel like an embarrassment of riches) ...but without being out to anyone - he feels he has to keep it a secret.

Until Bucky comes back, and isn't in a prudent enough mental state to realise all this. So for him, finding all this out about queer rights etc. is an untrammelled joy, and that's what finally gets Steve out of his negative headspace and into the light.

(And then, yeah, out and married. Try to stop Bucky getting his citizenship back when he's literally married to Captain America, assholes! Nowadays, the only women that hit on Steve are lunatics who think they can turn him, and Steve's only other problem is all the gay men who either want in on that threesome or think they can steal him away from Bucky!)

[maybankslover]

tiktok inspo

jj maybank x pogue!reader

sexual innuendos

jj getting to the cheatau from doing god knows what with john b, who had already left again to pick up sarah, was the worst that could've happen to y/n's study session.

her bf was just wearing a t-shirt, grey sweatpants and his iconic red hat. "hi baby." he leaned down to place a few small kisses to her lips. "how's that going?"

her mind on the boy providing her of all that affection. "baby? earth to y/n/n?" he smirked.

"oh yeah good it's going good, I think I'm done for the day you know?" she placed the books on the living room table and pulled on his t-shirt to get him down on top of her.

"yeah? I thought you really had to study today." jj laid down exactly where she wanted him.

"nah way too much, want something else now." she wrapped her legs around his waist and placed her hands on his face before kissing him.

"I agree." he went to take his hat off but y/n stopped him nodding no. "knew this shit turned you on."

"shut up and get to work maybank." she smiled at him.

"yep ma'am."

and just before he could take her shirt off a shout from the door stopped him from doing so. "don't fuck on my couch!"

"god john b, why r you so annoying bro." jj dropped his head on her shoulder.

"sorry john b." y/n laugh before whispering to jj. "we have the house to ourselves tonight , they're going out."

[folkwhoredoll]

library affections - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: there are two things that you love in this world; rafe and books

word count: 0.9k

warnings/tags: none, just fluff with sweet boyfriend!rafe

a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever thank you all enough for your support in all of my works :< tbh i did not expect to gain so much interaction because this blog is still relatively new but here you all are and i appreciate each and every one of you <3 this fic is another fluff boyfriend!rafe fic (is it obvious that i like fluff so much lmao) and i've written this a while ago. i hope you'll like this one! if you have a request or prompt in mind, feel free to send me a message. happy reading!

masterlist

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Being a regular visitor at the Camerons' estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Camerons didn't mind your presence, with your family being a close friend of theirs. Thus, it was no surprise that you ended up dating the one and only son of Ward Cameron.

With his father and stepmother often occupied and his sisters frequently out with friends, you and Rafe usually find yourselves with the house to yourselves, save for the occasional presence of the household staff. Yet, you've never minded.

Today follows a similar pattern. Ward left for a morning meeting, Wheezie went to school, and Sarah departed at noon to join John B's group. Surprisingly, even Rafe isn't home, having agreed to a golf outing with Topper and Kelce. Although he initially invited you to join, you declined, preferring to avoid the "boy talk" and the scorching sun. Thus, you find yourself waiting for Rafe in the living room, idly scrolling through your phone.

It's been around two in the afternoon when you got bored, sighing and deciding to stand up to walk around the house. Your feet already know where you're going when you face the familiar entrance to the Camerons' Library.

This room is your most loved spot in the whole estate, apart from Rafe's room. The vast shelves of bright book covers from different times always amaze you. If you could, you'd live in this room. Rafe has found you exploring this library countless times; even his sisters know it's the first place to check when you're not around the house.

Quickly scanning the shelves for a book, you settled upon a fantasy fiction novel, clutching the book as you made your way to a couch by the window. The first few chapters had you hooked immediately, eyes rapidly passing through every word as you moved chapter by chapter. The book was so good that it blanked your other senses, making you jump when you suddenly heard Rafe's voice.

"I knew you'd be here." He smirked, still in his golfing outfit, as he stood over you.

"Hi, Rafe." You smiled up at him, putting the book down on your lap. "How's golfing?"

Rafe plopped beside you, stretching his legs and putting an arm around your shoulder. "It was good. I got bored with Top's whining about his break-up with Sarah, so I left."

You chuckled when you saw his eyes roll, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. "They were together for a long time. You can't blame him."

"I guess." He shrugged before flashing you a flirty grin. "But I also want to spend time with my girl."

You snorted. "Yeah, okay."

"What? I do! I feel guilty about leaving you here alone." He defended.

"I don't mind, Rafe." You spoke.

"Hm. I bet you don't. But still."

You raised your brows, silently urging him to explain what he meant.

"I just mean that you were too distracted by that book, baby. I could've been an intruder, but you wouldn't even know. What is that about anyway?"

Your eyes lit up at his question; you've always loved speaking about the books you've read. And Rafe loved hearing you talk, even if he's mostly confused.

"I just started reading it, so I don't really know what it's about yet, but there's this girl, and she has electricity powers!" You started excitedly.

Rafe listened intently. He couldn't help but feel affection for you, marveling at how your eyes sparkled with passion for the story. Despite the chaotic world outside, at this moment, it was just the two of you, surrounded by the tranquility of the library.

As you continued to talk, Rafe's mind wandered, reflecting on how much you meant to him. You were the one person who could effortlessly penetrate his tough exterior, revealing the softer, more vulnerable side of him that he often kept hidden from the world. He felt at ease with you, free to be himself without fear of judgment or ridicule.

Lost in his thoughts, Rafe reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You paused mid-sentence, startled by the sudden touch, before leaning into his hand, relishing the warmth of his touch.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as you noticed the distant look in his eyes.

Rafe shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nothing, I'm just... happy. Happy to be here with you."

A soft blush colored your cheeks as you met his gaze, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. At that moment, surrounded by the scent of old books and the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the window, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Leaning in, Rafe pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling away. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with emotion as you returned his affectionate gaze.

With a contented sigh, Rafe settled back against the couch, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his side. Together, you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the simple pleasure of each other's company.

At that moment, surrounded by the familiar comforts of the library, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, everything would be okay.

[redladydeath]

thinking about trans masc vox and what his relationship with his kids would be like.

vox didn't want kids. he didn't want to get married and he certainly didn't want to give up his career to be a housewife either. but he didn't feel like he had a choice. that was the route that everyone expected him to take, and the way others perceived him was everything to vox. it was fine. he could handle it. he'd found a rich, handsome husband who looked at him like he'd hung the moon; they had plans to move to the other side of the country, far away from vox's parents; even if he no longer had to work, vox could surely find something other than childrearing to keep him occupied. everything could be perfect as long as he let it be.

of course, vox couldn't force himself to be happy. he hated being pregnant (as well as what it did to his body) and he never felt as connected to his babies as he thought he should've been. he loved them, of course, but caring for them day in and day out was so monotonous, and he never felt like he was living up to his idealized image of motherhood. it got a bit better as the kids got older and became more independent, but vox was still distant. he wasn't very affectionate with the kids unless they were out in public, although he had his moments. still never felt like he was doing it "right," though.

everything just felt so hollow. vox's relationship with his husband soured. vox sneered at his husband's increasing dependency on alcohol and prescription medication (the war was not a happy time for mr. kingston); vox's husband called him a terrible wife and an even worse mother. vox left most of the childcare and cleaning to the family's live-in nanny. he spent his days either socializing with the "other" women of the neighborhood (which only made him feel even more inadequate and out of place) or sat in front of the tv, watching lives that he could've or should've had play out on the opposite side of the glass. it was an accident when, after a night of drinking, he tripped and cracked his head on the side of the television, but he couldn't say he was particularly disappointed that it was all finally over.

poor little tommy was the one who found his mother dead in the living room one morning. vox had a difficult relationship with tommy; he saw so much of himself in him and hoped that he would grow up to be the man vox wished he could be, but because of that hope, he was cold and exacting with him, his expectations always sky-high. tommy had craved his mother's love when he was small, but as he grew, he began to feel like there was nothing he could ever do that would please "her." being the one to find vox's corpse just made everything even more complicated. sarah went to pieces, as you would expect. she had a somewhat closer relationship with her mother than her brother had, even if vox was still rather distant. sarah looked at him as though he actually were the perfect mother he wished he was, no matter how many times he fell short, and that endeared her to him. unconditional love wasn't something vox had any experience with before sarah. she could also see the melancholy that always seemed to hang over her mother even when “she” tried to pretend otherwise, and tried to help alleviate it as best she could. sarah was never able to feel safe in that house again after vox’s accident.

things get even more messy if the kids reunite with vox in hell. in the scenario where they die as adults, they might take a bit longer than usual to recognize vox since... well, they were looking for their mother and instead they found a man. maybe vox finds them instead; maybe he simply hasn't upgraded his voice by the time the kids arrive in hell. thomas and sarah don't understand why vox is "pretending" to be a man, but he explains it away by claiming he does it in order to get a leg up in the business/overlord world (even though the kids can see that there are plenty female overlords). as the years go on, vox modifies more aspects of himself. the kids notice that he's not just living as a man in public, he's doing it in private too. they begin to realize that this is something more than just a tactical business decision, although they don't have the vocabulary to say what it is yet. tom may even blame valentino at one point— maybe he's the one who got his mother into crossdressing. but as time passes, they start to get it. they already call vox "dad" when in the company of others, so it's not too much of an adjustment to start doing it in private too. regardless of how unusual it seems to their 1950s-1970s minds, neither of them can deny that vox is so, so much more happy than they ever remember him being when he was alive. now, if only he’d somehow become a good person too, then they'd have the full package...

in the verse where the tom and sarah die as children, it's a similar situation, although vox may not have begun living as a man yet at the time of their reunion. the kids watch as their mother gradually changes from the unhappy housewife they knew "her" as on earth, to a desperate new sinner trying to scrape enough together so the two of them could eat, to a business owner head over heels with "her" mentor, to a newly christened overlord looking to build an empire, to a well-established overlord who projects strength and perfection in all he does, to their father, the same selfish and ambitious man he's always been, but now finally comfortable in his own skin. it feels odd to watch vox change so much while the two of them remain the same, but one benefit of being stuck as children for all eternity is that they'll always remain adaptable. vox's transition is complex yet simple in the same way that everything feels complex yet simple to their forever-young minds. the two of them have an earth dad, a hell dad, a not-step-dad, and an almost not-step-dad; that's simply the way things are now.

[nexus-my-beloved]

Alright so I have a personal take on Mickey Smith in Doctor Who and I'm not sure if my opinion is entirely correct, maybe I'm missing a piece or two since it's been a minute since I've watched the seasons he was in, BUT.

Mickey Smith would've been better if he didn't end up with Martha Jones or whatever the fuck that was.

I know what you're thinking: but Nex, he hasn't been dating someone in forever during this! Exactly, dear reader, he hasn't, and that's good for him.

Throughout season one, Mickey is constantly left behind by Rose. It's heartbreaking for him and heartbreaking for the audience to watch, but at the same time, I've never met anyone that blamed Rose - I don't, but I also feel like she could've maybe said something better about it. Mickey is always tossed aside by the narrative and the show even almost jokes about it sometimes (cue s1 e9 The Empty Child, where, upon meeting Jack Harkness and while communicating through the psychic paper, Rose's message notes that she has a boyfriend named Mickey Smith, but he's referred to as her "sort-of" boyfriend and it's stated that she considers herself "very available" despite still technically being with him). Each time she and the Doctor land back to Earth, whenever she calls Mickey, he comes running like a dog - even just to bring her a passport in the episode Boom Town (where she landed in Cardiff - that's around a 2hr if not longer journey, give or take ((I've found differing sources)), with a 151 mile long trip ((~243 kilometers)) ).

Speaking of Boom Town, during that episode, Mickey admits to Rose that he's going out with another girl and Rose immediately shuts down. Now, I'm not going to turn this into a rant about Rose's poor choices - although I could talk about it, that's a story for another day - but I am going to say it was unfair to Mickey that she'd be upset when she's always gone. He even says that during their conversation on the pier - but he also says that no matter what he's always going to come running at the drop of a hat for her.

Even after Boom Town, during the Christmas special, Mickey is seen as a backup for Rose; when the Doctor is sick and still working through the regeneration energy, she's clinging onto Mickey and claiming it isn't her Doctor, giving up on him the whole time - but as soon as he's healed, she's right up behind him again, leaving Mickey in the dust. At the end of the episode, the Doctor offers her to come with again, and when she says yes, Mickey even says dejectedly that "you're never gonna stay, are you?".

Now, I don't blame Rose for leaving to go with the Doctor - I would also love to travel time and space with someone and see all the stars in the universe, and I understand why she says yes and keeps going - she's falling in love with the Doctor (or has already, if we're being honest), she loves the trips, loves having a friend, and as Sarah Jane Smith put it, adjusting to normal life after the Doctor is always the hardest. It would be terrible for Rose to stay, and so she goes, all at Mickey's expense - it's not healthy for either of them, the way they handle things, and they're both at fault, but Mickey still loving Rose is harmful to him.

Throughout Ten's run, we see a couple of times where Mickey is still chosen second after the Doctor by Rose. He gets left behind. We also know that Mickey has always clung onto Rose after we saw him hold onto her leg in s1 e8 Father's Day.

Now we make it to my main point here: Mickey is too reliant on Rose. He relies on other people around him rather than doing things for himself.

During Ten's run, we watch Mickey grow as a character and stop relying so much on Rose: yes, he still loves her, but he doesn't seem to follow her around as much as he used to. He's starting to live more for himself. This especially starts coming true by s2 e5 Rise of the Cybermen. In that episode, Mickey ends up in a parallel universe (Pete's World/Parallel Earth) alongside Rose and the Doctor. By the end of it, he decides to take his parallel self's place in the world and help it right itself again. By doing this, he takes a step into a different direction for himself: one that doesn't rely on Rose, a life where he makes decisions for himself and lives for himself rather than someone else.

By the time Mickey comes back, he helps Rose, more as a friend than as a still-lovesick ex-boyfriend, and he seems much more confident. Without Rose, he's become much more self-reliant, and it's helped him to grow as a person. He's become more Mickey Smith and less Rose's boyfriend.

Now, here's where my take gets strange to some of you: him with Martha just wasn't right.

Listen: I hear you! Giving him someone to work side-by-side with was great and all, but here's the thing: we never saw their relationship develop. All we saw was a few seconds worth of a clip of him and Martha together, apparently married, despite having no build up to it. We've gone from Mickey being just a side character that was basically just Rose's boyfriend to a fully self-reliant guy, and now we've regressed back to "someone's love-interest".

I love Martha, and I love Mickey. It feels like an injustice to both of them that they were just shoved together. First of all, last we saw with Martha, the relationship she had was that guy she met during the year that never happened when the Toclafane were roaming around. Now, suddenly, she's married to Mickey? And Mickey, who was just being a self-reliant man and growing into himself, is suddenly tossed into a marriage that had very little if none at all buildup? It feels cheap.

Granted, I might be missing something - maybe there was somehow an episode or two that I missed/am forgetting about, or maybe there was more interactions between them that I'm not remembering, but from what I recall, the fact that the show put the two of them together was really strange to me. I remember getting really confused because of it when I saw it on screen and I remember that it sort of jolted me out of the sadness that had been coming along with Ten's "goodbye tour" because when did those two flirt on screen?

Now: had there been episodes of the two of them properly getting to know each other outside of crises after crises where things were clearly going on in their lives, I might've loved it. The problem for me is that I saw no buildup to their relationship. For all I know, Mickey fell back into his habit of relying on someone in a relationship - and that would make things rough for him and Martha! They're both strong people, and while yes, they're shown on the battlefield together, there's not enough time really seen of the two of them together to understand their relationship that well. I, personally, would LOVE to see past companions of the Doctor/people close to past companions get together and have deep conversations or possibly wind up together, but I want to see it happen, not have it just tossed at me like a half-baked attempt at tying things up into a neat little bow.

This is to say I think Mickey should've been treated better by the narrative and given more time to grow into his own person. That probably would've meant we'd need more of Nine/Ten as the Doctor vs Eleven who has a whole other thing going on, but still.

Anyway, my opinion here might be capable of being swayed in case I'm missing things, but for right now I'm standing strong here (just a note - if something happened in some sort of book or comic or something, I absolutely have not seen it, and that could be why this is so weird to me).

[eatommo]

Kisses of Fire [j.m.]

Summary: You and Joel get caught up in a champagne-filled domestic dream, and your impulses are too strong to resist. Aka, you and Joel sing and dance in the kitchen until you can't deny your feelings any longer.

C.w: slight dub con because of alcohol consumption, mentions of parental loss, age gap (reader is in her 20s), unprotected pinv, lots of praise, pet names, Joel is a sweet talker, fluffy dancing and cooking with Joel, size kink?, creampie, squirting, oral sex (f receive), mentions of oral sex (m receive), breeding kink if you squint, mutual pining?, idk I probably missed some let me know!

A/n: Hello! I am alive! I started a new job and it's been pretty crazy but I am pleased to bring you my first Joel Miller fic and my first contribution to the Dbf!joel subgenre that has been one my favorites lately. enjoy!

~3.5k

“Joel, the sauce is going to burn.” you stumble through a laugh, trying to focus the little clarity of your mind on the chicken browning in your ceramic pan. He had insisted on opening a glass of champagne to congratulate you on your new job. It was sweet and dry, exactly what you liked, and it went down easy.

You were sitting around the coffee table gushing and hardly letting the man get a word out, and then he asked if you were hungry, and well you hadn't yet eaten and with your stomach growling at his words, he was very insistent.

In truth, you'd always looked out for each other, you'd help pick up Sarah from school, on occasion try new recipes in his much larger kitchen, and in turn, he'd fix your sink leak, install a new shower head, or even build you a new coffee table.

Here standing in his kitchen you felt so comfortable, stirring the pasta with one hand and rummaging through his cabinets for oregano with the other. It could've been the alcohol or the decade-long crush on the older man that was driving you wild.

With a rush of melody, you realized where he disappeared as the fun rhythmic beat of Be My Baby echoes through the living room and into the kitchen. Joel's words barely call above the song, “Oldies okay?”

You turn to answer him, only to catch him jamming out to the song behind you as he strides cool as a cucumber back into the kitchen. “More than okay.” You’re beaming, enjoying the music and the laid-back demeanor of his slight dance and groove.

You've cherished the few moments of joy since your father passed away a few years ago, singing with him and Sarah in the car, bullying Joel onto a rollercoaster, and summertime BBQs complete with movie marathons.

This felt different. Not only was Sarah noticeably absent, but there was an electric hum of something between you, it was almost palpable. Chalking it up to the alcohol, you settle back into your rhythm of taking care of the food in front of you with extra sway to your hips and occasionally singing into the wooden spoon like a microphone.

Joel returns to your side, stirring the thick sauce before grabbing a spoon from a drawer and tasting it. He moans around the cheap metal, throwing his head back in exaggerated ecstasy.

Hoping the heat from the stove disguises your blush, you carefully accept a spoonful he offers you after he cools with a few quick purses of his lips, humming in agreement.

“What did you say this recipe was called?” When he's been drinking, his Texan drawl lengthens, and you swallow around the lump in your throat, lord have mercy.

“Marry me chicken? It's said to get a man to marry you on its own…” you try and let your voice trail off as he grabs a colander and begins to strain the noodles for you, and before you can think you add, “I thought it would be good practice.”

You catch something in his face as he looks toward you, now mouthing the words to a song by Simon and Garfunkel, but your brain is a little too fuzzy to dissect it completely. Turning off the heat, you quickly add bacon and parmesan before tossing the chicken and sauce mixture on top of Joel's freshly strained pasta.

He hovers over you like he hasn't eaten for days, grumbling something about sweet torture as you garnish his bowl with freshly grated cheese. Turning your attention to the table you see a second bottle of champagne adorning a small dining set, and your flukes full and awaiting your attention, and your blush returns, what is happening to you?

Dismissing himself to turn the music lower, you set his plate down and settle into your chair beside his. Briefly, you consider refusing another glass, you were supposed to drive home, but his slightly tousled curls and the nonplussed smirk on his face as he walks into your field of vision wash over your body like a cool shower on a hot Austin evening, refreshing, revitalizing, and rewarding you with his simplistic beauty.

The way his eyes fell to yours with each silly verse, speaking to each moment you’ve swooned over him in private and cementing the swell of your heart. He sits and you both immediately dive into the food, moaning in unison at the salty and creamy flavor. “I get it.”

“For sure.” You confirm, shoveling more into your mouth as delicately as you can in your haste. “I’ll keep it in my back pocket for sure.” You both laugh and reach for your champagne for a toast.

“To the luckiest man in the world.” This time, he does a piss poor job of covering his shock, and you don’t dare let the moment slip from your grasp, setting your fork down, and reaching to settle your hand on his forearm, tenderly running your fingers over the rough-tanned skin.

The affection seems to coach a weight from his shoulders, as the tension in them drops and he meets your eyes with a deep and wicked sense of playfulness. Holding his gaze, and touching the lips of the flukes together you smile innocently, and hum as the cool bubbles coat your tongue and lift your confidence higher with every passing moment.

In a flash you feel the energy in the room shift, as silence flirtatious eye contact is shared between smaller sips of champagne and groans of delight, you find your eyes lingering longer on the base of his throat and the purse of his lips around the tip of the glass.

In your stupor you miss his devilish grin, he’s chasing the feeling of your gaze on his skin, drinking in the slip of your guard, and suddenly the incredible food you prepared for him is not nearly enough to sate him.

It’s his turn to stare, watching as your lips part in a soft pant as he takes a lingering swig from his glass, imagining how delicious this could pair with the taste of your pussy. Fuck, he’s so hopeless, you could talk him into anything, yet you sit and torture yourself undressing him with your eyes and practically projecting your dirty thoughts onto his chest.

When your eyes meet again your breath catches in your throat, some snarky comment you bury beneath the burning fire on your cheeks. “Joel…” it’s an invitation, a plea, and your heart stands still in its cage in the breath between your words and his mouth on yours.

His beard and moustache are rough against your lips, but the kiss is hungry, and not nearly as vulnerable as you feel. It's a clash of tongues and teeth, your bodies are drawn together like the world is stitching them together with desperate rough movements.

You can taste the rich sweet champagne on his tongue as it drags over yours, tilting your head back with a soft hand on your throat. Standing to his feet, he breaks the kiss with a reluctance you feel, but he’s ushering the plates off the table in a single trip, setting them on the counter to be dealt with later. The complaint dies in your throat, as you let your brain devour him in a primal sense. The broad expanse of his chest rising and falling in heavy needy breath, the veins in his neck as he tilts his head to return the same hungry stare, you don’t make it past his biceps before his hands are on your sides, directing you to stand but only for a mere second as your practically lifted onto the kitchen table.

His mouth is on yours again, hot and determined, your mind is made up, and he can feel it in each little whine he swallows. Confidence surges through him, bolstered by the hum of alcohol in his system, and he leans over you guiding you to your back, while he slots himself between your legs.

You part them quickly, wanting to feel him pressed against you more than you want to breathe, and rather than following you he kisses down the smooth skin of your calves and begins working on the button of your shorts, yanking them up and off with a dexterity that would surprise you had it been anyone else.

The thin cotton panties are not your first choice of sexy intimates, but it doesn’t seem to phase him as his gaze holds at the growing wet spot pooling in the fabric. His index fingers ghost over the seam of your pussy. “Are you sure?” He kisses the words across your skin, moving along the inside of your thighs as his stubble draws the nerves in your skin taught.

You blink your eyes a few times, almost not believing and basking in the warmth of his breath. Your mouth falls open in a pant as you throw your head back onto the table, in any other circumstance it would've hurt. “Yes…Joel…please.” Each word takes a lungful of air worth of effort.

There's a dark chuckle as if taunting you for being so pathetic, as he nibbles on the skin of your inner thigh, you feel goosebumps spread across all your skin, unaware if it's from shame or the heat of his mouth muttering sweet nothings into your skin.

“So pretty,” he coos letting two fingers trace over your slick panties, “Spread out on my table for me,” he presses harder but slows his movements to a beautifully slow taunt, “A fucking meal.”

The chair moves sharply back with his movement, as he pulls your underwear to the side and licks at your hole for his first taste. His mouth is feverish in appetite, licking and sucking and caressing each part of your sex, the assault is overwhelming at first, the movements so erratic you’re unable to focus on anything but trying to breathe. Cantering your hips against his mouth his rough palm stalls one of your thighs from closing, the hand is firm and warm commanding you to obey in just its presence. “More,” you beg, again the pleasure dulled as he slowed to listen.

His free hand goes to the waistband of your underwear running along its length and tickling the skin, before you feel a rough tug at the fabric and hear the tearing sound before you can even comprehend what’s happened. The fabric disappears and the soft table mat you are perched on protects you from the cool wood of the table. He mumbles more things into the flesh of your mound, and he kisses at the exposed skin of your hips, “Sweet little thing.”

You throw a hand over your eyes, losing yourself to the embraces and brushes of pleasure he showers you in. He settles back between your legs, pinning them to your chest with his arm and working two fingers slowly into your tight heat. The stretch is pleasant, and he lets his tongue lave over the top of your sex. “Joel.” You whimper feeling his knuckles curl inwards brushing against a bundle of nerves that has your vision lulling white. Each stroke feels like it's pulling your soul from your body, and an unfamiliar pressure builds as he coaxes the orgasm to the surface with his tongue swirling over your clit.

You explode, soaking the table and his hungry waiting mouth feeling the clear gush of liquid pool beneath you and coat your thighs. “Oh god, I’m sorry I-” you stammer, not having experienced this yourself before.

Joel’s attention snaps to your eyes, “Don’t.” It's a warning, his eyes dark and muddled with something animalistic you’ve only seen when he’s angry. “You’re going to do it again.” he sits straight, and you realize he’s still fully dressed as he stands on his feet, dwarfing you against the table, undoing the length of his belt.

Unsure if your breathing is coming fast or if he is moving slowly, undoing the buttons of his flannel, and exposing skin that you’ve seen countless times before, but as each button is freed and his shirt spills open, you struggle to keep your breath even. Thick tanned skin, soft to the touch but cords of practical muscle run through his pecks, and down his well-defined biceps hold your eyes still, as your heart clips away steadily. You mumble something about his muscles, fawning over him like you’ve done so many times before, but unafraid to get caught this time.

He peers down at you, maintaining eye contact through your spread thighs as you lay waiting gawking at him like you always have, the loose leather of his belt is tugging the jeans down his hips slightly exposing the soft flesh of his stomach and the feather-light trail of hair disappearing below his jeans. He longed to reduce you to a babbling drooling mess, he wanted to mark your skin his and fill you so full his traces would linger on your cunt for days. Days, he knew it wouldn’t be easy to stop, he felt like he was running downhill and his legs were jelly beneath him, hurtling towards some sort of self-destructive meltdown. But the sweet tang of you lingering in his mouth, splashed across his chest, on his dining room table.

You were perfect, even more so than he thought possible. He ached, the jeans strangling his thick cock, he longed to free himself and sink into you. “Come here.” he stepped closer, back between the welcome squeeze of your thighs, and he wondered if he would need a new table.

You sat up barely even with his chest and when you're close enough he brings you in for a deep and filthy kiss, giving you a chance to taste your slick from his tongue and to groan as your hand settles over the hard length of his cock in his pants. You allow a finger to trace over the outline surprised when your hand keeps finding more of him to play with, fighting the urge to squeak in delight as each kiss grows in fervor.

If Joel hadn't suggested otherwise, you would've happily been fucked to bliss on the table, but as one of his hands falls to cup the supple flesh of your ass you're lifted into his sturdy arms. Now even this isn't a first, but your cunt is pressed flat to the ripped muscles of his abdomen and you can't help but trail feather-like kisses and nips across the thin skin covering his Adam's apple, half tempted to suck a bruise into his skin as he whines lowly into hair.

He traverses the stairs with ease, fingers squeezing and playing with your ass as he does so. As you enter his room, he leans in for another searing desperate kiss, nipping and tugging on your bottom lip almost painfully slow.

The bed is plush, more so than you expect, the sheets feel cool and inviting as you settle into them, not daring to turn your attention away from Joel for a second. The moon is the only light in the room, but it's bright enough for you to drool over the large bulge he reveals as he shucks his jeans.

“Something you want darlin?” that all-knowing chuckle, call your attention to his face, always handsome but there's a depravity and a hunger in his eyes that is a little bit intimidating.

“I-” You struggle to decide what exactly it is you want to do, part of you wants to let him lay down and have you suck his cock dry, and the other part wants to see you bent in half stuffed full of his cum.

Your stumble only brings another dry chastising chuckle, “Don’t worry honey, I'll take care of you.” His dark boxers leave little to the imagination, the fabric pulled tight across him as the curve of his cock is pinned to the curve of his hip. He’s huge, bigger than you could’ve dreamed, and by the looks of it nice and thick, you would be happily limping around in the morning.

He plants his hands next to your legs, crawling up your body until he’s even with your mouth, his skin radiating heat and his mouth meets yours once more. The taste of you is still lingering in his mouth, spurring you on.

The clothed hardness of him presses against you, insistent and delightfully relieving the tortuous pressure building at your core. You run your hands against the muscles of his back, at first gently caressing but as his teeth skim your pulse you dig into the flesh with your nails. “Joel…” you whimper, knowing if he wanted to drag this any further you'd have no choice but to beg, there's something so addictive to his power and the way he looks at you. He knows what he's doing to you, he knows the way you shift your hips to grind against him is a silent plea, he wishes he could withhold longer, but each hitch in your breath coaxes more precome spilling into his boxers, he hasn't been this hard since he was a teenager.

He hushes you, soothing you with a hand running over your hair, and shoves his boxers down to free himself. He lets the weight of his cock slide over your sex, the thick head catching deliciously on your clit and allowing it to get coated in what's left of your cum. You both groan into another kiss, “Condom?” The question shocks you into reality briefly, but you quickly shake your head no, not bothering an attempt to form any words.

You swear you hear a whimper in his half-lidded chuckle, but you try to focus on the feeling of his body pressing against yours, the heat of him and the rich smell of his skin the taste of his mouth as he kisses you through a few more lazy strokes.

He runs a calloused hand over the soft skin of your throat before sliding it around and into the hair at the back of your neck, tilting your eyes to his As he lines up and slides in a single brutal thrust. Your body tenses at the stretch, but the pleasure is immense and Joel's mouth parts in a pant so beautifully you crack a wickedly seductive smile.

As he begins to canter his hips, his grip on your hair gets tighter, holding your eyes to his, his pelvis grinds delectably against your clit, as the ridges of his cock and the angle of his hips drag along your walls. You wonder if you'd been able to take it if it hadn't been Joel, you don't think you've ever been this fucked out in your life. He presses your legs slightly further apart nudging at your cervix, and grounding down.

The orgasm rips through you before you know it, the shake in your legs and your panted obscenities only encourage him further. “Fuck, good girl,” your hips love on their own grinding up fucking yourself through the climax as a second wave of white-hot pleasure soaks his abdomen and your thighs, “So good baby.”

Your head drops, body limp and wrecked he kisses along your cheeks and forehead, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

He moves quicker than you can register what's happening, his boxers are on the floor and suddenly you are straddled over his lap dropping down onto his cock as he buries his face in your tits. Tongue drags deliciously over your nipples as he lets you adjust to the new angle, you rest your head on top of his, kissing his sweat-damp hair and rocking your hips slowly. You didn't think he could feel any bigger, each slight rock nudges almost painfully against your cervix, words no longer forming in your brain and breath escaping in squeaks.

You let yourself get caught up in the moans and praise failing out of Joel nonsensically, the drag of his stubble on your skin overstimulating, you bear down on him and shiver as you hear the hitches in his breathing. “Where?” you almost miss it, his voice is hoarse, desperate, strained even.

“Cum inside me.” you can't suppress the smirk, “I want it.” It's your turn to pull his head back, looking deep into the rich dark brown eyes as they admire you, he chews on his lip. His shoulders hunch as you feel him twitch, his grip tightening on your hips as he uses the last bit of his strength to bounce you on his lap and fuck up into you as he cums deep and hard into your wrecked swollen pussy.

You suppress a shutter, you feel like you're made of gelatin and you slump against his body, going completely slack.

He waits a few moments to collect his wits and allows you both to catch your breath. “Should I start a shower?” You laugh, hoping to skirt over any sort of rebuff.

“Sure,” he massages the flesh of your ass, “I'll take care of the leftovers.” You're overwhelmed with a sense of relief, both letting out a massive sigh at the same time, and laughing once you make eye contact again. You feel his heartbeat against your chest and lean in for another kiss, the complicated stuff can come later, but the smile he gives you as he tilts his chin up slightly for the kiss, makes you feel like it's all going to be more than you could've dreamed of.

Part 2

[kelcemenow]

Return To Sender - Chapter 2.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1551

Warnings Nothing, we're still setting the scene. But there's a smidge of flirting!

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

The radio played softly in the background as you meticulously proof-read the last paragraph that you had quickly typed. You had woken up early, motivated and determined to have your first draft finished and sent to your editor, meaning you hadn't even changed out of your pyjamas before sitting down at your desk to work.

Reggie was still snoozing in his bed when you leaned back in your chair, scrolling carefully to check again for any obvious spelling errors or punctuation mistakes. You adjusted your posture and attached the document to an email to Sarah, your editor, clicking the send button with a small smile. Rolling your neck, you rose from your chair and glanced around your office, a small collection of brown boxes piled in one corner and a stack of framed photos and pictures that you hadn't gotten round to hang onto the walls yet. As you checked your watch for the current time, your doorbell rang, causing Reggie to lift his head excitedly.

"Stay there, Reggie." You said, holding your palm out with the verbal command.

The old, original wooden floorboards creaked as you paced towards the front door, the sound from the radio growing louder as you approached the living room. Turning the key in the lock, you opened the door to see your neighbour standing on your front porch.

"Hey, I...uh...brought your mail again. They keep delivering it to my house." He said with a sheepish grin.

You took the small stack of letters from him, "Thanks. Although, you could've just left them in my mailbox again?"

His eyebrows lowered slightly, "Yeah. But I figured bringing them to you was the neighbourly thing to do?"

You smiled, biting your bottom lip awkwardly in the short silence.

"Anyway-" He started.

"Would you like to come in for some coffee?"

His eyes twinkled for a moment and he lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck, "Uhh...sure. Thanks."

You turned around and headed for the kitchen, leaving him to close the door behind him and instantly wondering if the coffee invite to a complete stranger was a mistake.

Meandering around the large dining table that was situated in the middle of the kitchen, you reached your coffee maker and opened the cabinet above it, your hand ghosting over the myriad of options, "Latte, cappuccino, americano?"

He stood in the kitchen doorway with his hands in his pockets, "Americano, please, thank you."

You nodded towards one of the dining room chairs as you grabbed the correct coffee pods that you needed, "My Mother would be so disappointed in me. She always told me not to invite strange men into my house for coffee."

The man laughed as he sat down and dipped his head, resting his elbows on the table and interlocking his fingers, "I suppose I should've introduced myself first, huh?"

"It's only fair. I mean, you know my name from snooping at my mail."

"Hey, I was being a good neighbour and bringing it to you!"

Your shoulders shook as you chuckled, "I'm just messing with you! I appreciate it, really."

"Travis. I'm Travis."

You pushed the coffee pod into the machine with a soft click and turned to face him, "It's nice to meet you, Travis."

He smiled back at you, the creases around his eyes deepening, "So, you like it here?"

"Yeah. I mean, I only moved in on Sunday so it might still be too early to tell. But so far...all good." You carefully filled the mug with coffee before placing it down onto the table.

He grabbed the drink with his large hands and pulled it closer to him, nodding his head in appreciation, "So, where are you from?"

You finished making your own drink and took a seat opposite to him, "Chicago, originally. But my family moved down to Atlanta when I was young. Then I went to New York, Buffalo...Kentucky for a little bit. And now I'm here." You shrugged.

"Wow, that's a lot of moving."

You laughed under your breath and glanced at another stack of unpacked boxes by the refrigerator, "Yeah, you'd think I'd be better at it by now."

Travis' eyes darted towards your outfit, "Are your clothes still in boxes?"

You looked down, confusion washing over you before noticing that you were wearing your pyjamas. A warmness rushed to your cheeks and your hands flew upwards to cover your face subconsciously, "Oh my God, I didn't realise I was still wearing these."

"It was either that or it was some new fashion that I didn't know about."

"Well, this is embarrassing." Your head dropped, shaking from side to side.

Travis sipped his coffee quickly, "Nah, it's kinda cute."

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, your chest burning from his comment. Almost immediately, Reggie came bounding into the room, seemingly impatient from waiting in his bed.

"Awww, hey big guy!" Travis called out, allowing Reggie to place his front two paws on his knees as he praised him, "You're a good boy aren't you? You're a good boy!"

You smiled as Reggie's tail swayed wildly, "I take it you're a dog guy?"

"I love dogs. I got two at home." His head tipped towards the window that faced the street, "If you ever need a dog walking partner, I'm your guy."

"That would be awesome. Reggie needs a lot of walks so sometimes we are out for hours just walking for miles." You stood up to retrieve a treat from the glass jar on top of the refrigerator, "Luckily, I work from home and for myself so my days are pretty flexible."

You handed the treat to Travis, which he accepted gladly, as did Reggie, "What do you do?"

"Oh, I'm a writer." You said, almost coyly.

"A writer?" His eyebrows lifted, "That's impressive. Would I have read anything of yours?"

You folded your arms, "Probably not, unless you read romance novels often?"

"Hey, I can be a romantic guy!" He winked, causing a tightness again in your torso. "Wait...Y/N L/N?"

You winced, unsure of his reaction, "Yeah?"

"My Mom loves your books!" He called out, his eyes wide and his hands gesturing towards you, "She's read like...all of them!"

"Yeah, I get that a lot." You nodded and rolled your eyes, "My demographic is single working women and Moms."

Travis smiled, "She's going to be blown away when I tell her that you're my new neighbour!"

"I could sign a couple of copies if you think she'd like that?"

"Are you kidding? She'd love that!" He clapped his hands together, "Imma get some serious good son points for this!"

You giggled, "Glad I could help with that!" You took another sip from your coffee, "So, what do you do? Apart from being a part-time mail man?"

Travis smiled widely, "I'd be a great mail man! I'd sing on my rounds, I'd tell jokes, I'd dance down the street, people would love me as their mail man!"

"I expect that tomorrow morning then!"

"You got yourself a deal." He tipped the rest of the coffee into his mouth, using his thumb to wipe away a drop that escaped onto his bottom lip, "I play football."

You leant forward slightly, intrigued, "Like, play football? Or play play football?"

Travis' lips thinned as he smiled, "What's the difference?"

"Do I have a football star in my kitchen, is what I'm asking?"

He shrugged slightly, "Well, it depends what you mean by 'star'?"

Your mind suddenly flashed with information, and Travis' face became instantly recognisable, "Travis Kelce? Oh my God, you're Travis Kelce? I can't believe I didn't recognise you, I saw you on SNL!"

He rubbed his beard with his left hand, his right one still gripping his empty coffee mug, "Yeah, that's me."

"Oh my God, I...I can't believe I'm having coffee...in my pyjamas might I add, with Travis Kelce." You choked slightly on your words, "My brother loves you!"

"Hey, invite him over! I'll get my Mom here, we'll have a barbeque and make our families happy!"

You laughed, leaning forward to lightly tap his arm, instantly noticing how solid his muscles were, "We could get married and maybe their brains would explode!"

Travis' laughter bellowed out as he slapped his hand down on the table.

"Wow, that was weird." You pressed your fingers to your temples and stared straight ahead at Travis, who was clutching his stomach, "I don't know why I said that!"

"Relax, Y/N. It was funny." He said breathlessly.

The corners of your mouth lifted and you exhaled a relieved sigh.

"Listen, I gotta go. But thank you for the coffee, it's been really cool getting to know you."

You picked up the two empty coffee cups from the table and placed them into the sink as Travis said his goodbyes to Reggie. Smoothing over your pink satin camisole top, you made your way to the front door and opened it, letting the fresh air and bright mid-morning light pool into the hallway.

"I'll see you around?" Travis said as he arrived next to you at the door, "And try and have some clothes on next time, huh?"

You blushed as you watched him skip down the few steps and onto the pathway, turning quickly to flash you another smile.

______________________________________________________________

Not much to say for this one, it's still building somewhat! I am always open to suggestions as to what should happen with my ongoing series' so feel free to send a message or an inbox with any ideas!

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[zozowrites]

The Game (Fancy Pants part 2)

Paige Bueckers x actress!fem!oc Ava Radmall

Words: 4.5k

TW: religious services (church)

A/N: so I originally meant for this to be a little filler chapter buttttt ended up putting two together and adding my version of plot (there won't be too too much in this series, I'm doing my best tho).

Ava

It’s raining when I go to pick up my mom from the airport. I get out of my spunky little blue car to hug her hello and put her bag in the trunk. Then we stop at Whole Foods for the list of foods she needs to buy (which I tried to buy ahead of time but she insisted we go together, apparently it doesn’t “feel the same if she doesn’t look at it first”). 

In the parking lot I ask her to stop and turn around and catch her in such an aesthetic picture where she’s holding a bag under each arm bundled in her bright red raincoat with a slight rainbow in the background. I post it to my Instagram story and caption it “Mama and me <3” 

We get back to my place and start to put the food away when I get a text from an unknown number. 

I can’t help but smile slightly at the fact she’s texting me. 

Hey ava it's paige

cam gave me ur number hope it's cool

Hi Paige

It's cool dw

ok phew

how long is ur mom in town?

Until Jan 3, why?

does she like the lakers?

Are you wanting to take my mom on a date to a lakers game?

no no chill

she's pretty tho

Thanks??

lemme try again

does ur mom like the warriors AND CAM

I guess, why

do you have nye plans

Probably not, why

ok im getting cam lakers tickets for us for her bday

if you guys wanna join

Well you could've just said that, silly

well it was more fun this way, silly

At that I put my phone face down on the island to find my mom staring at me from across the counter, eyebrows raised. 

“Who ya texting?” She asks, always one for hot goss. Or prying questions. 

“Just a friend.” I answer, but I know I’m not controlling the upturn of my lips of blush of my cheeks very well. Yes I’m an actor but this is my mom, the woman who single-handedly raised me. 

“Okaaaaaay,” She extends the word and turns back to re-organizing the contents of my fridge, probably knowing that this is the move that never fails.

“I met Paige Bueckers at Cam’s Christmas party and she just asked if we want to go to a Laker's game for Cam’s birthday with them on New Year’s Eve.” I spill the beans. After being met with her silence, I add, “I think we’re gonna be friends!”

“And what did you say?” My mom asks, not turning away from the egg shelf she was inspecting. 

I slip into one of the stools at the hightop counter, swinging my feet in the air. “I said I’d get back to her. Do you want to go?” 

“I love CamCam, of course I’ll go. If she’ll be alright with me there, of course.” 

“Oh don’t even pretend, we both know she likes you more than me.” 

She sets down the butter that she’d moved on to and comes to stand behind me, running her hands up and down the sides of my arms. 

“I’m sorry sweetie,”

“No you’re not.”

“Yeah, no I’m not.” She says and laughs. 

My doorbell rings at 6:30 pm on Christmas Eve and I open it to find Ellie, my neighbor, just as expected. The twelve year old smiles at me as I let her in and wave to her mom, driving off to her shift at the hospital. 

We do our secret handshake (three fish slaps back and forth before a faked out high five) and she asks if my mom is here yet. When I tell her yes, she drops her backpack at my feet and bounds up the stairs from my entryway to the open-concept living space. 

“Sarah!!” I hear her shout before I can hear the impact of her jumping into my mom’s arms. I sigh to myself with a smile and bring the backpack up the stairs to place in her guest bedroom. 

I met Ellie and her mom Jules when I first moved in two years ago and got really close with them. Ellie walked my dog Frankie on my long set days and I watched Ellie during the summer on my off days and she slept at my house when her mom was working night shift. Like on Christmas Eve. Only last year when my mom visited for Christmas did we discover that we actually share the same runaway dad. It was an interesting Christmas morning to say the least. 

“Are we ready to commence the second annual Great Christmas Competition?” My mom asks, putting on her low rumbly announcer voice. Ellie squeals, already set up at my dining room table. 

We pull out hot glue guns and our bags of candy and graham crackers and start building our gingerbread houses. My mom finishes way before our half hour timer is up, so she takes a spoon to the pink icing tub, dying her mouth a brighter color. Then we move onto cookie decorations, where she’s more interested in eating the cookies than decorating them. Through both heats, Ellie is so focused she doesn’t say a word. And she wins, of course. We wouldn’t just let her win, but she’s a creative genius. Even if she wasn’t a kid she would still be winning. 

Then we move on to reindeer races (I win), Christmas karaoke (my mom wins), and snowman making (Ellie wins). Since she wins the tournament, she gets to pick the movie to cap off the night, and we settle on the couch to watch Elf. 

Around halfway through I pull my phone out to text Paige. 

What's your Venmo and how much for the tickets?

Her response is immediate. For some reason, that makes me smile.

don't even think about venmoing me bc i'll just send it right back

Don't make me go ask Cam

don't do that either I'm deadass

20 bucks says I can guess it right on the first try and if not you'll tell me

I don't think you understand how bets work

They way I see it it's a win win

uh yeah for u

What, you don't want me to win?

not if it means I lose, no

Don't make me write you a check

I'm not gonna honor that with a response

I put my phone away and try to refocus on the movie when Ellie leans on my shoulder, her soft brown hair falling into my lap. 

Christmas morning comes and goes. I spend it with my mom and Ellie, and Jules brings over Ellie’s presents from Santa when she gets back from her shift. She sleeps on the couch as my mom and I make breakfast, or she sleeps as much as she can before Ellie comes running in. 

Later in the day my mom finds a church service for us to attend, because apparently my five o’clock Episcopalian service wasn’t good enough for her. The church is small and charming, the service taking place in a gym of an old school that was turned into a community center. The congregation is very friendly and I spend half the time making faces at the baby in front of me. 

The next Sunday we return to the church for a regular service, and to my surprise, I spot a certain blonde in a middle row. I walk my mom towards her, and she turns and seems to have a similar look of surprise on her face. 

“These seats taken?” I ask. She shakes her head with a smile. 

“All yours.”

I introduce her to my mom and she shakes her hand, very formal. TikTok isn’t wrong, she definitely has good rizz. During the community time she’s asking us about our holiday and how my mom is liking LA right now. She brings up the Lakers game. 

“I’m assuming you know Cam since she roomed with Ava in college, right?” Paige asks. 

“Oh, do I know Cam. I adore Cam. She used to come on vacation with us sometimes.” 

“We always joke that Cam likes my mom more than she likes me.” I say and pretend to pout. Then the community time ends, and we move on to the sermon. 

After the service ends we help stack up the chairs and push them to the side. 

“This is only our second time here, do you know any good brunch spots around?” I ask Paige as we descend the stairs to the exit. She tells us about a bookstore cafe around the corner, and my mom insists she join us. 

Fifteen minutes later, we settle into our seats and the navy blue bookshelves behind Paige perfectly compliment her slick back blonde bun. I’m sitting across from her at the table, and I let my eyes travel down from the bun to the slope of her purple cardigan over her shoulders, crisp white t-shirt underneath a great contrast. On our walk here I had to really focus on keeping my eyes away from the way her legs looked so juicy in her simple black pants. 

I finally rip my gaze away from her to look at the menu. Then I look to my mom, who was watching Paige through her menu. I resist the urge to look back at Paige, because I can already feel her eyes on me. It makes heat rise throughout my body, and I untuck the hair from behind my ears to shield my neck, which I can feel is probably blushing.

Thankfully the waiter arrives, and we order our food. Then we resume being normal human beings, and partake in normal conversation. How Paige is doing on the team. The press tour I’m about to start and the next round of auditions. What my mom does as an elementary school art teacher. We discuss Cam a good bit, and her impending nuptials. 

When our food arrives we play roulette, where we rotate the dishes through the three of us at random. Thankfully, Paige is understanding of my mom’s shenanigans. I excuse myself halfway through under the guise of using the restroom, but really I find the waitress and cover the bill. My Asian dad may not have stuck around or been a decent guy, but there’s some things that may just be nature. 

I come back to my mom and Paige chatting, and apparently she was telling Paige an embarrassing story of me from childhood. Just great. 

“Yeah she like didn’t talk until she was like four. But she would point. Her two words were ‘puppy’ and ‘soccer.’” My mom tells her and Paige smiles. 

“Aw that’s so cute, my younger brother Drew did that too,” Paige responded. I pulled out my chair to sit back down with a squeak. “My step-mom always claimed that it was because Drew had me to interpret for him so he didn’t need to talk since I was fluent in Drew.” 

It makes my mom laugh which makes me smile. Paige is good.

Our waitress comes back and my mom asks for the check, so she lets us know it has “already been taken care of.” 

My mom fake scowls at me, and Paige gives me a look I can’t quite decipher. 

Paige 

I open my phone to call Azzi, but for some reason my fingers hover over Ava’s contact instead. 

u didn't have to do that u know

Do what?

buy brunch

I think the words you're looking for are "Thank you, Ava"

Thank you, Ava

You're welcome, Paige

The way she texted my name had the same effect on me as her actually saying it. I can see the way her lips wrap around the P of my name in my head. I need to send something to change the mood.

ur mom is cool

Ok ew don't text me that

I don’t know what to say because “sorry” doesn’t sound quite right. I’m not sorry. I do think Ava’s mom is cool. And pretty. I know where Ava gets her beauty from. 

Turning the the other side of the couch I had flopped down on five minutes ago, I pick up Aziz’s call instead of trying to craft a lackluster response to Ava.

“Yo, what’s up?” I ask her. 

“Please tell me you don’t answer the phone like that with other people.” She sighs in response. 

“This is just for you, Az.” I chirp in response. “But seriously, what’s been going on with you? How’s Dallas?” 

“Eh, Dallas is Dallas, like always.” She says. “Practice is practice. Life is life.” 

“Well you don’t sound very enthused,” I noted. “What’s going on.” 

She sighed, even longer this time. “Just worrying about my offseason training, nothing new. I want to hear about what’s been going on with you. How was Cam’s party?” 

I almost don’t want to answer about the party, because I know that means bringing up Ava, and for some reason there’s a part of me that wants to keep her to myself. Like she’s too special to share. 

But that’s ridiculous. I shake my head and answer her truthfully. 

“Wait what!?” Her gentle voice somehow screeches through my phone speaker, and I place her on my living room table so I can stretch my arms over my head. 

I let myself laugh along with her. I know. It’s almost ridiculous. I’m crushing on a movie star. Who’s also smart and pretty and athletic. Who I have no idea if she likes me back. 

Azzi sighs yet again. I make a mental note to wear her down until she tells me what’s really going on. Because I know something is. She’s my best friend. 

“I have to go,” She says. She sounds miserable. “I miss you. I love you!”

“Love and miss you too, Az.” I say and she hangs up. I turn onto my back and close my eyes, letting the silence of my apartment envelope me. 

I knock on what I hope is the front door of Ava’s townhouse. It’s white and modern. She has a nice yard and a single potted plant by her door. There’s a pumpkin on the step and I’m scared of how long it’s been there. 

The knock earns me no response, so I ring the doorbell. I hear it reverberate through her house, and then an indecipherable shout and heavy thudding footsteps of someone running down stairs before the door is thrust open so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t hit the wall next to it. 

A very frazzled Ava greets me, followed by the most adorable black Scottish terrier I’ve ever laid my eyes on scurrying behind her. I could never have imagined something could upstage Ava, but her dog definitely does.

I crouch down to pet the dog and it props its two front legs up on my knee, licking my ear. I don’t mind, and Ava seems too distracted to tell them to get down. 

“Her name is Frankie,” She says, a fond smile flitting across her face. Her hair is half curled, and she appears to be wearing a full face of makeup with bare lips. “She really likes you, you know.” 

Everything about this moment makes me smile. The way Ava looks effortlessly beautiful in her half-ready state. It feels too intimate for me to witness. I’m filled with an overwhelming amount of pride that her dog likes me. 

“You look nice,” I offer, truthfully. It slips out. I didn’t mean to say anything too forward in my flirting or cross weird lines or make any moves or confusion. Yes, it’s hard when you compliment a (bitchy) straight girl when she knows you’re gay, but personally it has always been harder for me to compliment my also lesbian female friends. Weirdly, I’m not worried about how she’s interpreting it, but rather aim to stick the thought process in my mind to analyze later. How did I intend it? 

Luckily, she just scoffs. 

“Yeah, whatever, if you say so Paige. You look good.” 

It makes me smile against myself. 

“Thanks. But I mean it, you know?”

“I am obviously running behind,” She says, gesturing frantically with her hands. Another female voice calls for her from up the stairs, who I’m pretty sure is her mom. But now I’m concerned why the thought of it not being her mom is making me slightly jealous. Shit. I’m done for. 

A red leash with pink hearts and a purple collar is placed into my hands as I stand. 

“Do you mind walking Frankie quickly before we leave? I haven’t done it yet and I need to help my mom with something.” She makes a face when she says “something” that indicates she doesn’t really know what her mom called her for. “Usually just up and down the street is enough to get her to go, and there’s bags on the leash.” 

I snap the collar onto Frankie as she thanks me profusely before trotting back up the stairs. 

“Guess it’s just you and me, kid.” I say and lead her out the door. She lets out a huff of air. 

I walk her up and down the block, Frankie trotting perfectly next to me. Of course a perfect woman like Ava has a perfectly leash trained dog. I walk her to the end of the street and back, trying to let all of my fast-paced thoughts go. 

Seeing Ava like that felt like she was letting me in to a private part of her, for some weird reason. She doesn’t seem to me like the type of woman to pressure herself to always be put together, but I guess whenever I see her she is. She’s secure in those moments and she’s secure when I knock five minutes too early on her door. 

Frankie and I make it back to Ava’s small front yard, and she gracefully stops in the grass to go to the bathroom. I grab it with a bag, not even surprised anymore about how perfect the dog is. 

I open the door and wipe her paws and butt with a wipe from the pack decorated with paw prints on the shelf. Then I unclip the leash and hang it up, but stop, unsure of what to do next. Was it weird I let myself into her house? Probably not any weirder than walking her dog, right? 

Thankfully I don’t have to think on it too long because she bounds down the stairs with her mom, and we’re off. 

At the game we slide into our seats, Cam’s fiancé on the end and then her, Ava’s mom (since the two of them haven’t stopped talking since we picked up Cam), followed by Ava, and then me. 

There’s a good amount of time before the game starts and Ava’s mom is still completely immersed in conversation with Cam. Which means lucky me gets to talk to Ava. 

I turn to her, a plan forming in my mind. 

“So tell me more,” I try to prompt her, and she turns to me from where she was staring off at the court, seemingly tracking the players warming up. 

“Huh? What do you mean?” She says, her eyebrows creasing in confusion.

“Tell me more,” I say to her again. I struggle to hide a small smile fighting its way onto my face. 

“I wasn’t saying anything, Paige.” By the way she says my name she sounds slightly displeased and it worries me, before I look her in the eyes, trained on mine already, and see the mischief gleaming behind them. 

“Tell me more about yourself, Ava. So far I know you were Cam’s roommate, you went to Stanford, you played soccer. Midfield.” I echo the way she told me at the bar in Cam's yard that night. I see a smile creep onto her face, and my heart hopes it’s at the memory. “Your go to drink is a Shirley temple, you’re a Christian but once struggled with your faith, you’re gay,” I lean in towards her and whisper for the last one, before returning to normal. “You sleep like a rock, you’re gorgeous when you just wake up,” I pause, counting them all on my fingers. Maybe I’ll reach double digits at this rate. “You’re close with your mom, you like the Lakers-“ 

“So it seems like you know a lot about me already.” Ava cuts me off. Now it looks like she’s the one planning something. “What, specifically, would you like to know, Paige.” 

The perfect opening to hit her with a silly, small talk first date get to know you question. 

“Well, for starters, do you have any siblings?” I ask nonchalantly and shrug. 

Ava snorts out a laugh that she tries to cover with the back of her hand. 

“I have a sister. She actually lives next door to me. I only found out we were related a year after I moved in. She’s twelve.” Ava smiles so I smile back. Oh my, would I like to meet her sister. But oh my, would I like to kiss that smile more. 

I shake the thought out of my head. Ava keeps talking, almost lighting up as she describes Ellie, her sister, and discusses her hobbies and interests, and the adventures she’s gotten to take her on at length. I really hit the jackpot with this question. 

“I mean, technically she’s just my half sister, but-“ 

Now it’s my turn to cut her off. “It’s not different, I get it.” 

“I don’t have a full sibling so I wouldn’t know how to compare.” 

“With Drew my younger brother, he’s everything. We only share a dad, but we also share a soul, I just know.” 

This makes her smile. She gets it. More importantly, she knows that I get it.

The lights lower and a loud rumbling voice begins to announce the happenings as players begin to run out from the tunnel. It pulls us from our conversation and we clap. I realize that we were practically turned in our seats to face each other because I have to turn back. 

A few minutes in to the second quarter, I stand and declare it’s time for hot dogs. I turn to walk out of our row and Ava follows, claiming she’s getting up to “lend me a hand.” 

As we wait in line, only a few people in front of us, she speaks and I have to forcefully drag my eyes away from the place they had been resting, looking at her perfect hands clad in dainty gold rings, perched over her stomach as she uses her left hand to twist the one on her right ring finger around and around and around. 

“Ok my turn. But I’m not letting you off the hook with ‘do you have any siblings?’” She quotes me using a horrible frat boy impression. 

I look up at her through my eyelashes, a smirk on my mouth. I quirk my eyebrows. “Is that really what you think of me?” 

“Oh, you think I think about you?” she says smirking back. Flirting back! It brings the butterflies in my stomach into full torment mode. I will be remembering this moment for forever. 

I open my mouth to say something but she lets out a huff of air instead and squares her shoulders. We’re moving on. 

“Why basketball? I’m sure you played other sports as a kid, so, why basketball?” 

I take a second to contemplate, gathering my thoughts before answering so I can be as sincere as Ava deserves. 

“It’s the only place I felt at home. The flow state. It still takes hard work but it’s the only sport that just felt right. That just clicked.” I answer. Even though she looks like she’s listening, Ava doesn’t say anything in response. I take a deep breath and keep going. She knows I have more I could say, I guess. “It’s also what I clung to when my parents divorced. They told me during soccer season, so soccer was ruined for me. Then I had basketball to look forward to, basketball to focus on, basketball that wasn’t going to change. Basketball that I couldn’t ruin.” 

The moment is heavy. Ava’s gorgeous brown eyes look into mine and I’m almost surprised when I see understanding instead of pity. 

“Paige,” She says, placing a gentle, warm hand on my elbow. That’s her only response. Just one word. One simple touch. But she’s with it she's saying everything. She gets me and basketball just as much as I got her and Ellie. 

We’re called up to the counter and order the hot dogs. She tacks on a few baskets of fries. When the screen tells us to pay she quite literally elbows me out of the way and uses her card as I’m reaching out for my own.

For a reason I wished I regret knowing, I don’t move farther back, and instead relish the brush of her hair against my shoulder, the scent of orange and vanilla lingering in the air now, and the sweep of her hip against the very top of my thighs as she grabs half of the food and turns back to head towards our seats. 

The game is interesting, and Ava and I ease into a steady rhythm of trading quips or comments back and forth. I’m funny and she’s funny. A match made in heaven, I think to myself. Maybe I should stop thinking to myself. 

At some point Ava’s mom stands up and announces she’s going to the bathroom. Her brown hair is wavy in the same way Ava’s is, but shorter. It looks just as soft and I catch myself wondering if it smells like Ava’s vanilla and orange. 

“Which way is it, Paige?” Her mom asks me. I’m a little stunned why she would be asking me that until I realize it’s so that I come with her. Obviously she can find a bathroom by herself.

“Oh um let me show you,” I say and stand up from my seat, following Sarah out of the row. 

When we’re out in the hallway I keep up the gesture of showing her where the bathroom is and point simply across the hall. I mumble a few nondescript words about it being “over there” since I’m really just waiting for her to say something.

“Thanks, Paige.” She says but doesn’t turn away. “So you and Ava.”

Her words hang in the air, turning the space around us thick. What about me and Ava? We’re friends? Can she see I’m flirting with her daughter? Does she want me to stop flirting with her daughter?

Suddenly she cracks a grin and lets loose a laugh so compelling that I just have to laugh with her. She reaches for my elbow just like her daughter did half an hour ago. 

“I’m not grilling you at all, sweetie, sorry I just thought it would be fun to see you sweat.” She smiles to herself, her plan having obviously worked. “Anyways I was just going to tell you that she likes you. She’s probably just beginning to realize it now, but I know she does. I think you like her too since you haven’t stopped flirting with her ever, even in my presence.”

This makes me blush. Which, in turn, makes Sarah smile more. 

“Just a word of warning, honey. You have to be really patient with her. If you act too soon you will scare her off, and I would really hate to see that. You two will be so good together. I suggest you wait for her to make the first move when she’s ready.” 

I nod, taking this all in. Her mom thinks? Knows? That she likes me. And that I like her. And she wants us to get together. But from the sounds of it I need to wait for her to make the first move. Huh. 

“And I know I cannot just ask you to wait or something. I’m trying not to ask anything of you, but rather tell you what I see in Ava. The flirting is good for her. Please don’t think I’m telling you to stop. I’m gonna work on her from my end, see what I can do.” 

I don’t know what to say but Ava’s mom seems to know even that too. 

“I’m almost sorry for dropping this on you. I’m gonna hit the bathroom, maybe consider a walk if you don’t want to return yet.” She says with a warm smile and I nod in response, turning to go for a short walk. 

[erikiara80]

I talked about how September 8 could be a Fringe Easter Egg

September is the Observer from the future who saves Walter and Peter from a frozen lake, where Walter opened the portal to the parallel universe. When he tells Walter that "The boy is important, he must live," Walter thinks he's talking about Peter, but September is actually talking about his own son, Michael. Saving Walter and Peter makes him remember that he loves his son. The love for Michael is the key...

I'm sure there's a parallel here, one of the reasons the name Mike is so often mentioned in ST. Because he's involved in whatever happened in 1976. Maybe he's the one who saw what happened to Will. Wrong place, wrong time, like Hopper says in 1x03 (Interestingly, the memory of the day they met includes a playground. We see Sarah and Alice in a playgroung, and they both look terrified. And in S2, when Jon and Nancy are waiting for Barb's mother in a playground, to talk about Barb's death, they realize it's all staged and they're taken to the lab. Basically, playgrounds are associated with dead animals (people?), scared kids and abduction, so, I think something bad also happened in 1976)

I noticed that the few bald people we see in ST are always in scenes connected to Hopper, Will, Eleven, and Mike.

It starts with Sarah, of course.

In 2x07, a bald man tells El that she's dead, they're all dead. This, after she sees a cop and we hear these lyrics of Runaway

Hopper was in a graveyard... And Mike also needs to get (a message) through. That's it's a trap (staged)

Code name for Joyce, Hop and Murray in S3, Bald Eagle, and one of the soldiers asks Joyce and Hopper if Mikhail sent for them

This parallel. The bald russian puts out his cigarette and then he looks at the gate

And Sarah's photo is in the shot when the Mind Flayer (William) puts out his cigarette

Also, after the scene of the gate in Russia, we see Mike, El and Hopper, and locks, time and closing doors are mentioned

In S4, Dimitri says that his son Mikhail would call Hopper the bald American. And in another scene, Hopper says this about Mikhail and his papa: "Your son is not your son. And your wife..."

At end of the season, Hopper says that he stole El's haircut, so she's "bald" too

And I think we can also count Mr Baldo, the clown. We know Will was afraid of clowns when he was five, and clowns seem connected to (Lonnie) something bad that happened on a frozen lake (Argyle says that it could've been an ice skate, and then "bliping" the circus music) We also see clowns in Jane's room and on Sarah's pajamas and when Alexei is killed. Imo, all hints at the tragic event in 1976 that involves the kids, guns, and a frozen lake

[meimi-haneoka]

Shocking: English edition of Clear Card volume 15

I'm very pleased to inform you guys that a friend showed me some pages from the English edition of volume 15 of Clear Card (which has just been released) and they fixed a whole lot of translation mistakes I had pointed out when the relative chapters came out in simulpub!!

(all images courtesy of Sarah/Rainbowbee - reposted with permission)

I saw around 20 pages and I was so happy to see not only the fixed translations, but also some lines rephrased in a better way to explain things more properly.

The one above made me emotional because in that correctly translated "that makes me so happy to hear!" there's the emotional load of an underlying "I have no idea how my daughter will look like once grown up and I'll never live enough to find out, so at least learning that from you makes me happy" that a "thank you!" just didn't convey (and then again, it was just incorrect).

Like, seriously, they even rephrased what Lilie said as to make more clear what Kaito's goal has been the whole time, and it conveys better that the lie he told Momo was for a good cause (because he knew she was a kind creature, he didn't want her to grow worried and try to stop him).

Finally they have mentioned Lilie's ring was a price she paid to save everyone's derriere!!!

Akiho was not supposed to remember about Momo, and that's been correctly restored here.

This is the volume where Lilie and Momo explained to Sakura part of what was happening to her, included some concepts difficult to understand, and it was pivotal they nailed it right.

This hasn't been the case with the past releases (the mistakes of the simulpub stayed most of the time, and some lines that were changed only ended up being more wrong), so I wasn't really hopeful or anything, but today they shocked me in a positive way.

I remind you that in this volume there are 2/3 pages that have been partially redrawn by CLAMP (with changed dialogues) in the part where Lilie talks, so I warmly suggest you to get it and check them out when you have the opportunity.

Now, I can't help but wonder if the japanese side got any hand in this sudden care for the translation. If the long months between releases (english volume 16 will only come in March 2025 despite the japanese one has been out since April of this year) is because Japan wants to supervise the translation. After all, Ohkawa did say in that famous Space (where they mentioned being aware of the translation mistakes) that she would've liked to try talking about this issue with the translation team.

And I can't help but also think about what we could've had if they had just put this amount of care from the beginning.

If they had proofread from the start. If they had translated all the words in a sentence and not lost some along the way.

If they hadn't stubbornly chosen to phrase everything regarding a certain character in a malicious way.

I'm crossing my fingers that Volume 16 will get the same amount of care, if not more. 🤞

[angeldoll2000]

Haunting You

Dark!Rafe Cameron x Housekeeper!Reader

Word Count: +1,574

Warning(s): +18, Kidnapping, Mentions of past non con, Forced pregnancy. Ward is a warning himself.

Author's Note(s): I got this idea after listening to Beyonce's haunting music video.

You've been best friends with Sarah since childhood. When your parents decide to move away, she insisted you live with her family to attend the same college. With their blessing, you find yourself living with the family as a personal housekeeper. It's a reliable source of income that's kept you busy.

As soon as school was out, you decide to pick up another job at a local diner. You were given a key to their home due to you working late shifts. Ward insisted it was too dangerous, he assigns Rafe as your personal driver. But when you go missing one night, the entire town has their eyes set on the Cameron family.

A search party is held the next morning and following nights after. Rafe is the only one who doesn't attend. Only returning after spending the weekend probably partying. Ward scolds his son for being so careless, but Rafe didn't seem to care. No matter what he does, his father always seems to find another flaw in him. He shows more affection towards his daughter's best friend than his own flesh and blood. He'll be damned if he's second best to some Pogue.

It's been months since your disappearance. So when the police inform the Camerons that your investigation had been labeled a cold case, Ward had to be the one to break the news. After the last and final search party, Ward consoles his daughters. Rafe on the other hand, was nowhere to be found.

Typical, unreliable Rafe. In fact, none of it even bothered him. Someone who he's been responsible for the past year suddenly goes missing and there isn't even the slightest bit of concern. Nothing. If it weren't for Topper's party, he would've been a prime suspect. Ward knew of your friendship with Sarah, that’s why he agreed to hire you in the first place. You were a good kid. Until the day his son informs him that you ran off with some merchandise. Ward ignored all of Sarah's pleas and files a police report, from then on the rest was history.

Ward had kept himself cooped up in his office. Tonight had been a thunderstorm warning he could hear the heavy rain pattering against the windows. He listens to the strong, sharp wind. It resembles a faint cry, no...plea. It sounded almost like you. Like he could hear your cries from down the halls. As if you were still here. Calling, pleading for help. This wouldn't be the first time he's felt a presence in their house. He swore he heard it first coming from the vents. Surely it would go away the next morning. An hour had passed and it was still there.

A faint, ghost-like howling. Ward knows he isn't alone. Wheezie was out for a slumber party, and Sarah was at a friend's place. He could've sworn he saw Rafe stepping foot inside right before the storm hit. But nowadays it was hard to tell. His son barely set foot inside the house. Not unless he was rummaging for supplies or extra cash. To the point where even his father grew suspicious of his activities. He wasn't on Pogue territory, and none of his Kook friends had seen him recently. His jeep was still parked out front, so where the hell was he?

Ward searches for his son upstairs. He makes his way inside Rafe's room. His son wasn't there, the only clue being left is his phone tossed aside on the bed. Knowing Rafe, he'd never step outside the house without it. This time there's another shrill cry, more audible is heard coming from behind Rafe's bed. It sends shivers down his spine. Ward pulls it back, revealing the vent connected to it. He knows where it leads to.

See, the Cameron estate held a few secret rooms. One of them had been in his office. Another in the library, and the last room being an underground storage unit, built years ago by the first owners. He makes his way to the basement, where the entrance to the bunker was. To his surprise, there was a faint light at the end of the staircase. Finally, the voice halts. Whoever this intruder was, they're certainly not welcomed to squat in his house.

Ward picks up a lamp left at the end of the stairs. He follows the faint noise until he reaches the source. For a moment, they sound like Sarah's until he listens more closely, no, he was sure they were yours. But how? You'd been missing for months. He shines the light at the silhouette. His burning question finally being answered. That night their family joined your search party, everyone had been there. All except one.

Ward knew he should've spotted the signs. He knew something wasn’t right when his son of all people suggested that you, his old classmate, work with them. It wasn’t like his son to help hire employees. Let alone a housekeeper. He should've kept more distance between the two of you. That night, Rafe was supposed to pick you upand he did. The housekeepers who had left for the night. So there was no one who saw him dragging you down the basement stairs. During all these months he'd been cooped up down here. All this time, Rafe knew.

Ward didn't want to admit it. If he could just sweep this whole incident under the rug, then maybe it would fade within time. But there you were, sobbing, rocking yourself back and fourth. He notices you were holding something. A bundled blanket. It starts moving. That's when he realizes there was no turning back from the damage Rafe had done.

A small fist raises in the air as the babe cried out for its mother. You were nearly drained, your face losing color as each minute passes. Drenched in sweat and still sore from the after birth. There was no time to spare. Ward had to think, and he had to think fast. Out of all the things Rafe could get himself in, why? Why did he bother someone like you of all people?

You were a good kid. You made everything around you better, and in a way, more complete. Ward noticed the way his son used to look at you. He should've stopped this sick obsession before it could take root. Never in his life would he predict such an outcome. You look up at him with pleading eyes, “P-please…please help us!” A small cry came from the covers. At that moment Ward realizes his son had gotten himself into something he couldn’t reverse.

What you had suffered was unfortunate, but he couldn’t risk losing everything he’d worked hard for. "P-please Mr. Cameron h-help me you have to hurry before he comes...!"

He throws on an act, "Honey, who?" Approaching you with fake concern.

"I'm so sorry I should've stayed far away--I should've never gone in his room if I knew he would--" you can't help but get choked up. Ward gently held your shoulders as he pulls you in for a hug. After a moment you gather enough courage to look him in the eyes, "It was Rafe. All along it was him!"

Ward felt horrible for what he was about to do, "Oh sweetheart..." he picks up the lantern and takes a step back, "I can't risk losing my family because of one mistake,"

That's when your entire world came crashing down. As if your heart had broken into a million pieces. This was the man who had watched you grow up with his children. Who you thought embraced you as one of his own. He sighs, "It's a small sacrifice to protect my family, I hope you'll understand now that you have one of your own," He makes his way up the stairs, ignoring the echoes that bounce off the walls as you plead, scream for mercy.

You let out a final shrill cry, "I hope this follows you for the rest of your life! Like a curse, I hope this haunts you for the rest of your life!" It was the last thing Ward hears from you before leaving. He meets Rafe at the entrance. His son drops the medical supplies in hand. He had had been sporting a fresh bruise on his face. One of the many you'd given him during these past months. Even now at your at your most vulnerable form.

Rafe had the audacity to look at him as if he'd just killed someone. Ward sighs, "Care to explain?" giving his son a moment to find the right words. Rafe isn't phased, not even in the slightest. He's not upset that he'd got caught. He's more nervous that his father found out about a the kid he had behind his back.

Rafe looks his father dead in the eyes, "I love her," smiling at his proclamation of 'love'. it was at that moment when Ward felt pity for his son. He should've known better when Rafe decided to go under the radar. Nothing good ever came from it.

As mad as he was, Ward couldn't blame the child born from such circumstances. So, the Cameron men decide to hatch a plan. Later that summer, the Camerons decide to hold a grand solstice celebration at their manor, inviting almost every single Kook in the area.

They decide to hold the event at their house. It was a coverup plan. An excuse to show off their newest renovations, which indirectly helped cover their tracks. A perfect distraction for the Cameron ladies of the house. Ward let them redecorate the inside in preparation for the party. It gave Ward and Rafe time to rearrange the old vents away from the noisy basement. All while Rose and the girls were kept busy with the décor.

During the event, Rafe took his time introducing his son to each and every last member of Kook society. The whereabouts of his mother seemingly out of the picture, abandoning her own child and leaving Rafe a single father. They took pity on him and the situation he'd been forced in. Rumors spreading that he'd been seduced by some lowly Pogue. He decides to step up into the role and embrace fatherhood, playing hero for safe face. Of course the Kooks ate his story up. Who doesn't love a happy ending?

Ward sees his son selling the story and can't help but feel much more relieved. Way more than he had been in months. But just to be sure, he kneels down to the nearest vent and places his ear against it, nothing. He hums a tune before downing his champagne. There would be no more 'hauntings' coming from the Cameron house.

[lostsyren]

i was just thinking about the potential ways rafe and sofia could've met bc those mfs didn't give it to us and i thought of one where rafe could've gotten too drunk one night and sofia sees this and has to take him home, she stays and makes sure he's ok until he wakes up or writes a note to him and leaves the night unbeknownst to him who took him back to his house other than a note and a name (assuming she knows who rafe cameron is and where he lives, bc he's a big name around kildare) until he goes back to the pelican yacht club the next day and sees someone with the name tag 'sofia' at the bar and approaches her, the rest is history

100% agree!! Their first meeting not even being shown to us, leaving us to speculate?? What kind of stupidity is that? It’s like they were trying to set Fiona/Sofia up to fail (they were lucky she’s so charming and lovely).

I LOVE THIS IDEA SMMMM!!! STOPP IM OBSESSEDD!! I beg you write it!! Like anyone who sends in cool ideas, WRITE THEM PLEASEEEEE!! Like I for sure would but I’m a chronic procrastinator and have already got sm asks and a whole other fic I need to be focusing on🫠 (which I’m grateful for, ty to all of you for reading🫶😞)

Like Sofia offering to drive him home, and Rafe still being responsive but like drunk to the point of being completely devoid of inhibition.

They reach Tannyhill and she has to help carry/sneak this 6ft, massive guy inside. Like he’s just loudly fumbling with the keys and being so loud she’s just trying to shut him up. They eventually reach his room without running into any of the Cameron family and he just collapses into bed.

And then Sofia thinks he’s just this asshole, jerk, entitled kook guy but then he says smth like

“You know you’re soooo nice, no one usually helps me when I’m high and wasted, they just let me fuck up and get in trouble– so thank you yeah? If Ward or Sarah saw me I’d be done for. They already hate me like I’m the worst person in the world.”

All slurred and drunken. And Sofia’s heart stirs for the boy. She thought he was the worst person in the world– but for a fleeting moment she just sees Rafe as a hurt boy who doesn’t have anyone he can count on.

And Rafe falls asleep and Sofia takes off his shoes and covers him with a blanket. She snoops around his room for a bit, seeing pictures of when he was kid, all the certificates he won when he was in school still framed, before leaving.

That’s when she runs into Sarah on the landing. They don’t say anything, Sarah just looks at her with a bored and withering expression before helping her sneak out.

Then the next day Rafe wakes up hungover, not remembering a thing. He wonders how he ended up in bed and when he leaves his room he’s surprised Ward didn’t shout at him or anything. Then Sarah says something which confuses him:

“Hooking up with the club bartender Rafe? Really?”

He’s confused. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh don’t play dumb, I saw her sneaking out of your room last night.”

“Who?” He didn’t remember hooking up with anyone last night (s1 Rafe who has maybe one to two bodies and is painfully awkward with girls and at sex and accounts for it with over confidence and douchebaggery is canon to me)

“You know, short dark hair, bangs, tiny…you see her everyday at the bar Rafe.”

The memories slowly start to trickle back.

And then he goes back to the country club trying to find the bartender he vaguely remembers called Sofia. To do what? Threaten her? She better not tell anyone about his embarrassing, drunken performance. Or thank her? For selflessly helping him out and saving him from his family’s ire.

He hasn’t decided yet.

Ughhh stop s1Rafe x Sofia is soooo special to me, tysm for this ideaaaa!! (Someone write it please😞)

[loonylooly]

at this point i'm wondering what sarah is thinking when writing her love interests, like ok it's clear she finds them hot but like....are they good people

Rhys:

UTM lap dance shenanigans

throwing Feyre into danger constantly (Weaver, destroying cauldron, getting the book from Adriata, etc etc)

Still not doing jack shit about wing clippings in Illyria?? Emerie is right there, Rhysand, go enforce your damn laws

Insulting his wife's sister constantly

Almost killed his wife's sister cause she dared give her important medical information

Locked Lucien (MY BOY!!) in the house of wind

Locked Nesta in the house of wind

Didn't give Mor any warning that time he made her face her abusers and she cried i think (ngl i forgot most of it)

Ignoring Hewn City even tho...Kier is like the only bad guy we've seen from there?? Surely there's decent people in Hewn City, don't gotta make everyone suffer

Nesta windhaven kidnapping intervention so she stops spending Rhys' money (if it was really about her own sake, they would've put a stop to it much earlier)

Seemingly alienates everyone in Feyre's life that could and would stand up to Rhys for Feyre's sake. Lucien? Nah, shoo. Nesta? Nah, shoo. Weird thought but Tarquin? Yeah, makes her steal his book.

And last but DEFINITELY not least; demon baby wife death

HE COULD'VE TOLD FEYRE... OR ATLEAST NOT THREATENED TO KILL HER SISTER FOR TELLING HER WHEN HE HOULD'VE TOLD HER IN THE FIRST PLACE??

THERE'S PROBABLY MORE BUT MOVING ON

Cassian:

Barely ever stands up for Nesta in the IC

Aids in kidnapping Nesta to Windhaven so she stops spending whysand's money

Laughs at Nesta when she falls down the stairs

Aids in punishing Nesta for daring to tell Feyre important medical info

Constantly going agaisnt Nesta's wishes and trying to "save her" when she doesn't want him to

That one time Azriel asked Nesta if Cass had pushed her down the stairs...Like are we gonna ignore that?? Personally I'd have a quarter life crisis if my closest friend, who is like my sibling and has known me most of our lives, seriously entertained the idea that i would physically assault the girl I like

general aggressiveness all of ACOSF

aids in bulldozing Nesta's apartment

Rowan goddamn Whitehorn (Who I've yet to see people bashing him somehow,,, HoF rowan was like if ACOSF cassian had a horrific murder baby

Left his pregnant mate alone during a war cause he wanted to prove himself....like..idk man if i had the choice between war and taking care of my pregnant wife i'd pick the wife (did he know she was pregnant? i've kind of forgotten by now)

Rowan's kid would've been hundreds of years older than Aelin.....just think abt that

Literally everything he did to Aelin during training in HoF

Their argument where he PUNCHED HER IN THE FACE

Threatened to whip Aelin...I repeat....Threatened to whip Aelin, an ex-slave....

Told Aelin it'd be better if she died 10 years ago (unprovoked?? bitch you met her like 2 weeks ago just cause she's getting on your nerves doesn't mean you gotta wish DEATH upon her)

Literally was relieved to find out she was only 19 because if she was a few years older she could've been THE CHILD OF HIS BEST FRIEND.

No issue with marrying the cousin of his best friend's child....Imagine if he hadn't met Aelin first.. If he'd met Aedion first, Aelin would've always been the relative of his friend's son to him

FOR THE RECORD i hate all of the SJM age gaps but rowan and aelin's specifically irks me because Aelin LITERALLY CALLS HIM OLD throughout the WHOLE SERIES

Literally tells Aelin he doesn't care about what she's been through and that she is nothing to him after she confronts him for leaving her

Puts Luca in danger by sticking him on to a frozen lake with a monster inside where he'll DIE if Aelin can't save him

Funnily enough, some of the only seemingly decent person guys in SJM 1. Are completely forgotten about in the books or 2. SJM had to make them violently unlikeable

Like we've got:

Tarquin, seemed like a pretty good guy, rightfully pissed that the IC stole his family heirloom, shows up like twice in the books (LET HIM COME BACK SARAH I LOVE HIM)

Tamlin, was pretty decent in book 1, was made violently unlikeable in book 2 onwards

Chaol, very strong morals, generally a good person, loves his wife, made violently unlikeable and boring in late CoM, HoF, and QoS (ToD is one of my favorite books in the series, will praise ToD till the day I die, my boy EARNED his own book)

Aedion, seemed like a good person, strong morals, spent years trading his dignity for the sake of Terrasen, loved his cousin above all else, made violently unlikable in KoA (even tho I think he was justified in being angry about it, i'd be SO pissed)

Sartaq, good guy, strong morals, Nesryn's chapters were some of my favorites in ToD, Sartaq is one of my favorite SJM love interests, i'll never forgive author lady for forgetting about him in KoA (tho i guess she forgot about everyone from ToD? Yrene and Chaol are the only important ones, she barely even mentions Nesryn even though Nesryn's BEEN an integral part of the gang since QoS, giving her the Suki from ATLA treatment)