#y’all will think I’m crazy but I love this little unhinged man

[crimsonmonsoon]

Some more Qi Rong in anticipation for episode seven

[classyhoeeee]

'Distraction': Rafe Cameron 18+

Part 1 - Sarah, Kiara, and Cleo are on a mission to steal something from figure 8 with the reader. Something that Rafe Cameron, Topper or even Kelce wouldn’t let them get away with. The thing is, Rafe was their biggest threat. The pogue girls had an idea that involves the reader. They want her to distract him with a sexy truck wash. Thing is…the two of them have unfinished business.

pairing - Rafe Cameron x f!reader tags - enemies to lovers relationship, fingering, degradation, spit, overstimulation, a little rough, truck sex, wet mentions, reader orgasm, dirty talk, knifeplay, dark!rafe.

a/n - just a warning…this one is VERY freaky. Hehe. It’s my favorite one that I’ve written so far. enjoy.

……………………………………………………………………………..……

The Distraction

“Y’all are crazy as hell.”

The words left your mouth before you could even think them through, your voice loud enough to make Cleo snort and Sarah wince. Kiara, however, didn’t flinch. She simply leaned back against the rusted van, arms crossed, watching you with an infuriating calmness.

“It’s not that crazy, Y/N.”

“Yes, it is, Kie! It’s Rafe Cameron. I can’t believe I’m even saying this, but I think y’all forgot what he’s capable of. He literally swore he was gonna kill me.”

Cleo raised her eyebrows. “And yet, you’re still standing. Ain’t no bullets flying, is there?”

“That’s not the point,” you shot back, glaring. “The man is unhinged. He hasn’t forgotten what I did. I pushed his ass overboard. I stole his boat. His boat, Kie.”

“Exactly,” Sarah said, breaking her silence. “And yet, you’re the only one he hasn’t laid a hand on. Don’t you think that’s…weird? I’m his sister and he’s even tried to kill me.”

“It’s not weird. It’s Rafe. He probably thinks it’s more satisfying to scare the shit out of me from afar than to actually follow through.”

Sarah, Cleo, and Kiara shared a look, one of those silent girl-code moments you couldn’t quite decipher. It pissed you off immediately.

“What?”

“Listen,” Kiara started, holding up her hands, “we need this. You know we do. That safe in Ward Cameron’s study? It has everything we need to help the guys. But getting into Figure 8 without Rafe breathing down our necks? It’s impossible. He’s always watching, Y/N. And we know he’s gonna be there today.”

“And you think throwing me at him is gonna fix that shit?”

“Distract him,” Cleo corrected with a sly smile. “You know you can.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, the very thought making your skin prickle. “No. Absolutely not. I’m not gonna—”

“Wash his truck,” Sarah interrupted.

The words hit you like a slap to the face. “What?”

Kiara’s smile was almost apologetic. Almost. “It’s simple. He loves that stupid truck. You’ll get his attention in like…two seconds. Enough time for us to get in, grab the shit we need, and get out.”

“You want me to give Rafe Cameron a sexy car wash? Are y’all out of your damn minds?”

Cleo shrugged. “You look good. He’s obsessed with you. We’re just being resourceful.”

You pointed a finger at her, already fuming. “He’s not obsessed with me. He’s obsessed with revenge. There’s a difference.”

Sarah’s voice dropped, soft and coaxing. “Y/N, you’re the only one who can do this. If we screw this up, the guys are screwed. Please.”

You stared at her, at the pleading look in her eyes, and felt the weight of her words settle on your shoulders. You had come this far with them—you’d do anything to protect your own. That was the Pogue way.

Even if it meant putting yourself in front of the devil himself.

“Fine,” you muttered through gritted teeth. “But if Rafe kills me, I’m haunting y’all for the rest of your lives.”

Cleo grinned, clapping her hands together. “Deal.”

———

The truck sat under the sun like a black mirror, drops of water clinging to its surface and glinting in the light. You hated how it looked—pristine, perfect, expensive. Just like him.

And, like clockwork, Rafe Cameron appeared, materializing out of thin air like a goddamn nightmare.

He leaned against the porch railing, beer in hand, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The buzzed hair only made him look sharper, those pale blue eyes locking onto you like you were the only thing worth seeing. He looked you over—slowly. Starting at the mess of suds sliding down your brown arms, down to the soaked hem of your white top where your leopard print bra peeked through. His gaze lingered on the exposed skin of your thighs as you shifted in your tiny shorts, then flicked back up to your face.

Rafe smirked, slow and wolfish, before taking a long sip of his beer.

You’d already fucked up, and you hadn’t said a word.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again.” His voice was smooth and lazy, but the edge beneath it cut deep.

You turned to look at him, sponge still dripping in your hand. Despite the racing in your chest, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, tilting your chin up defiantly. “Rafe… I—”

“You what?” he interrupted, his smirk twitching wider. He stepped off the porch, the gravel crunching under his boots as he approached. He moved slow—deliberate—as though giving you the chance to run just so he could chase.

You glanced at the truck for a split second, calculating the space. Too far.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you said softly, surprising yourself with how steady your voice came out. “For everything.”

Rafe blinked. You saw it—the flicker of something in his expression as he stopped a few feet away. He looked at you like he wasn’t sure whether to believe you, his tongue running over the corner of his mouth. “Sorry?” he echoed, voice dripping with mockery.

You nodded, stepping just slightly closer, letting the sponge drop to the gravel. Your hand brushed your collarbone as you shifted, drawing attention to the trail of soap suds sliding down your skin. His eyes followed, just as you knew they would.

“I mean it,” you said softly, almost seductively, tilting your head just enough to let the sunlight catch the line of your jaw. “I shouldn’t have pushed you off the boat. I panicked.”

Rafe’s gaze darkened, but he didn’t say anything, his chest rising and falling steadily.

You kept going, forcing the words out like silk. “I shouldn’t have betrayed you. You didn’t deserve that.”

For a second—just a second—you saw his expression soften. His eyes dropped to your lips, his grip on the beer loosening slightly. He looked almost… hesitant. Like he wanted to believe you.

And then he laughed.

It was loud and sharp, the sound scraping down your spine like nails on a chalkboard. “You’re good, you know that?” Rafe said, shaking his head as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ll give you that. You almost had me there.”

Your stomach dropped.

His eyes snapped back to yours, the smirk curling his lips twisting into something cruel. “You really think you can stand there, play the little innocent act, and I’m just gonna forget what you did?”

“Rafe, please—”

He moved fast, rounding the truck before you could react. You bolted around the other side, keeping the truck between you.

“Oh, this is cute,” Rafe taunted, his voice ringing out as you circled. “What’s the plan now, huh? Gonna fucking run? Where do you think you’re gonna go, Y/N? Huh?”

You didn’t answer. Your heart slammed against your ribs as you circled, your movements mirroring his as he prowled like a fucking lion.

“Stop running,” Rafe barked suddenly, slamming his palm against the hood of the truck. The sound made you jump. “You think I’m just gonna let you get away again? Like hell I will.”

He moved left—you darted right. It didn’t matter. You were too slow, and he was too fast. Rafe rounded the truck, and you ran.

You barely made it two steps before he caught you.

“Let me go!” you shrieked as his hand snatched your arm, yanking you back hard enough to send you stumbling. “You motherfucker!”

He didn’t. Rafe pinned you to the truck in one smooth motion, his body towering over yours. The heat of him, the size of him, made you feel small—helpless in a way that set your skin on fire.

Rafe’s face hovered inches from yours, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “What’s wrong, Y/N?” he murmured darkly. “You scared?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Rafe leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. “You should be.”

Your voice came out shaky. “Rafe—please—”

Rafe pulled back just slightly, and you saw it. The flash of silver in his hand. Your breath hitched.

The knife.

He twirled it between his fingers, slow and deliberate, his gaze locked on your face as you froze. “What was it you said last time?” he mused, dragging the blade lightly down your arm—not enough to cut, but enough to make you shiver. “I’m doing this for my friends, right?”

You whimpered softly, the sound escaping before you could stop it.

Rafe’s lips twitched, his eyes lighting up like you’d just given him the best gift in the world. “Say it again,” he whispered, pressing the flat edge of the knife against your throat—just enough to make your knees buckle. “That’s why you were stupid enough to come back to me, right? Those fucking pogues set you up?”

“Rafe,” you whispered, tears pricking your eyes as you gripped his wrist. “Please…just let me go.”

The tears slipped down your cheeks, and you felt his chest rise sharply against yours.

“Look at you,” Rafe muttered, his voice low and almost… awed. “Such a pretty bitch when you cry.”

You shuddered, a broken sob leaving your lips as his knife traced the dip of your collarbone.

“Rafe…”

“Shh,” he murmured, the sound almost tender. “You don’t wanna say something you’ll regret.”

You forced yourself to meet his eyes, your breath coming in shaky gasps as tears streamed down your face. “What… do you want from me?”

Rafe’s smile widened, something twisted and triumphant lighting up his face. “What I want? You’re coming with me.”

You froze, his words hitting you like ice. “What?”

Rafe stepped back just enough to grab your wrist, tugging you forward as you stumbled to keep up. “You really think I’m letting you run back to your little Pogue friends? Nah. You’re done, Y/N. We have unfinished business.”

“Rafe—no the hell I’m not. What are yo-”

“Save it,” he snapped, dragging you toward his truck as you tried to fight him off. “You brought this on yourself. You wanted my attention, right? Well, you’ve got it.”

You thrashed against his grip, tears streaming down your face. “Rafe, please—let me go! I’ll leave! I won’t come back!”

Rafe shoved you against the passenger door, leaning in close, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You’re not leaving, Y/N. You should’ve stayed off figure 8, Pogue.”

The finality in his tone made your stomach drop, and for the first time, you realized the truth.

You weren’t getting out of this.

Not this time.

———

The air inside the truck was suffocating-thick with sweat and heat and the overwhelming scent of him. Your back arched against the worn leather of the backseat, your hands clawing uselessly at his shoulders as Rafe moved above you, relentless as he fucked the shit out of you.

Every sound you made-every gasp, every choked-back moan-felt like a betrayal. You hated yourself for it. For the way your body responded to him despite everything.

Despite the smirk that stretched across his face, the glint in his pale blue eyes that said he'd won.

"Look at you," Rafe muttered darkly, his voice heavy with satisfaction. His hand slid down to your thigh, his grip rough, forcing your legs wider as he pressed you deeper into the seat. "Acting like you hate this…like you hate my dick."

"I do," you gasped, even as your voice cracked, even as your body said otherwise.

Rafe's laugh was low, cruel, vibrating through you as he ducked his head to press his pink lips against your neck. His teeth scraped against your brown skin, making you shudder, and when he pulled back, his expression was all sharp lines and wicked intent.

"You can lie to yourself, Y/N," he said, gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him. "But you don't get to lie to me."

You glared at him, your chest heaving, your nails digging into his arms. "Fuck you."

Rafe grinned, leaning closer until his lips brushed your ear. "You are."

You opened your mouth to snap back at him, but the words turned into a sharp cry as Rafe's hand shot up, tangling in your hair. He yanked your head back, not enough to hurt— but enough to remind you of exactly who was in control as he drove himself deeper and deeper into you.

"Say something now," Rafe growled, his voice low and smug as he pushed himself deeper.

"Come on, sweetheart. I thought you had something to say?"

Your nails clawed uselessly at his arms, your body arching against the seat as he hit something deep inside you that made your thoughts scatter. Your jaw clenched, your breaths coming in sharp gasps as you fought to hold onto your anger, your defiance, anything to ground you.

But all you could focus on was him.

The way he filled you-so deep it felt like he was tearing you apart and putting you back together all at once. The way his body towered over yours, his pale skin pressed against the deep brown of your thighs, the contrast making everything feel more raw, more intense.

His dick is too damn big.

The thought came unbidden, unrelenting as your body clenched around him, your mind spinning from the overwhelming pressure and stretch. How the hell is this motherfucker even fitting?

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, your nails biting harder into his skin as you tried to stop the heat pooling in your stomach from taking over.

"What's that?" Rafe taunted, his grin widening as he rolled his hips, making you gasp. "Didn't quite catch that, baby. You moaning for me already?"

"Shut the hell up," you hissed, though your voice cracked as the pleasure twisted tighter.

Rafe laughed, his grip tightening in your black hair as he tugged your head back further, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Nah, I don't think I will. Not when you're squeezing me like that. You like it, don't you? Feel how deep I am?"

You glared at him, fresh tears pricking your eyes as your lip trembled. "You're a piece of shit. I hate your ass."

Rafe's smirk widened, his teeth flashing like a predator's as his hips snapped forward, deliberate and rough. "Hate me all you want," he sneered, his voice dripping with cruelty.

"Doesn't change the fact that you're fucking taking it like a good little Pogue slut."

"You're disgusting," you snapped, though your voice wavered, your breath hitching with every thrust.

"Yeah? And you're pathetic," he shot back, his tone cruel as his hand slid down to your waist, gripping tight enough to bruise. "Talking all this shit while you're pushing back on me like you're fucking starving for it."

Your stomach churned, humiliation and heat flooding your chest as your body betrayed you again. Your hips shifted, just slightly, the pressure too much to fight.

"There it is," Rafe muttered, his eyes darkening as he felt you give in. His grip tightened, guiding you against him as his smirk turned wicked. "Look at that recoil. God…you fucking bitch, shit." He gritted the last part and gives your ass a hard slap, making you whimper.

His hand moved to your thigh, pulling your legs wider as he forced you to meet his rhythm. "Say you hate me again," he growled, leaning closer, his nose brushing yours. "Say it while you're bouncing on my dick like you don't want me to stop."

Your lips trembled, every sharp, degrading word tearing at what little resolve you had left. You hated him. You hated the way he owned you, the way his grip burned against your dark skin.

"Fucking say it," Rafe demanded, his voice a growl as his grip on your waist tightened, forcing you to push back against him. "Say you hate me while you're begging me to keep going."

Your acrylic nails dug into his arms, fresh tears streaming as you tried to stifle the sob threatening to escape. "I-I hate you."

Rafe chuckled darkly, his breath hot against your ear. "Yeah, well, your pussy doesn't." He pulled back just enough to watch your face, his smirk deepening as you arched beneath him. "Look at you. Can't even stop yourself from pushing back. Fucking whore."

You bit down on your lip, the humiliation twisting with the heat building in your stomach. You hated him. You hated yourself.

But you couldn't stop.

Rafe's hand slid to your jaw, forcing your tear-streaked face up to meet his. "There it is," he muttered, his tone softer but no less cruel. "Good fucking Pogue. Taking me just like you're supposed to."

And as you finally broke beneath him, your body trembling and tears spilling freely, Rafe's smirk widened, victorious and unrelenting.

"Speak ," Rafe hissed, his face inches from yours. "Say you want me."

You shook your head weakly, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you tried to fight him, to fight yourself. "I-I don't..."

"Bullshit."

His grip on your hair tightened, and your eyes squeezed shut, your body betraying you all over again. You hated him-hated his smug face, his cruel words, the way he made you feel like you were his plaything. But the worst part?

You didn't hate this. As much as you said you did.

"Say it," Rafe growled, his voice dropping lower. "Say you want me, or I'll stop."

You bit down on your lip so hard it hurt, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He wouldn't let you get away with silence-he never did.

"Rafe-"

"Say it," he repeated, pulling just hard enough on your hair to send a shiver down your spine. "Be a good girl for once."

Your voice trembled, barely above a whisper. "I... I want you."

"What was that?" Rafe taunted, tilting his head as if he hadn't heard you. "Say it again. Louder."

You opened your eyes, glaring up at him through the tears you refused to let fall. "I want you."

The words tasted bitter on your tongue, but Rafe's reaction was immediate. His grin stretched wider, his teeth flashing in the dim light as his hand loosened in your hair, smoothing down to rest at your jaw. His thumb dragged across your bottom lip, almost gentle.

"That's what I thought," he muttered, his voice thick with triumph. "Took you long enough."

You turned your head away, biting back the sob that threatened to break free.

Rafe didn't let you escape. He grabbed your chin again, forcing you to meet his gaze as he leaned in close. "You're mine now, Y/N. You get that, right?"

You didn't answer. You couldn't.

Rafe smirked, his eyes dragging slowly over your tear-streaked face, down to the dark skin of your chest where his touch still lingered. "I fucking hate Pogues," he murmured, almost to himself. "But you? You're my exception."

And the way he said it-soft and dangerous, like a promise you'd never escape-made your stomach twist in something you couldn’t name.

You hated him.

And you hated yourself even more.

——

The backseat of Rafe's truck was a battlefield-your resolve crumbling and Rafe's triumph curling around you like smoke, choking out every last ounce of resistance.

Your body was a mess of heat and sweat, pinned under the weight of him, his grip unrelenting as he dragged you further under.

"Don't stop now, sweetheart," Rafe murmured, his voice a gravelly mix of amusement and cruelty. His lips grazed your ear, every word deliberate, every breath making you shiver. "You've come this far. You're not tapping out on me yet, are you?"

You bit your lip, trying to ignore him, to ignore the way your body betrayed you with every movement, every burning pulse of pleasure he forced out of you.

Rafe noticed. Of course he did.

"You're quiet all of a sudden," he taunted, his tone mocking as his hand slid up your thigh.

"That's cute. What? Cat got your tongue? Or are you just embarrassed? Bet your little Pogue friends wouldn't believe it if they saw you right now-dripping all over my dick, letting me do whatever I want to this pretty little pussy."

"Shut up," you whispered, a broken edge to your voice, hating the way his words twisted something sharp and hot in your chest.

Rafe chuckled darkly, his hand moving to tangle in your hair, tugging hard enough to make you gasp. "Nah, I don't think I will. Not until you say it. Admit how good I'm making you feel. Tell me how much you like this."

You shook your head weakly, tears stinging your eyes as you tried to turn away. "I don't _"

The shrill ring of your phone cut you off.

You froze, the sound slicing through the thick air like a warning shot. Rafe didn't stop. If anything, his grip on you tightened, his smirk widening as his gaze flicked to your bag. He reached over, grabbing the phone with deliberate ease before holding it up to your face.

Kiara.

"Look who it is," Rafe drawled, his grin dark and knowing. "Your little rescue team, huh? Probably wondering where you're at. Should I tell her?"

"Rafe-please, don't," you choked out, panic creeping into your voice as you tried to grab the phone.

He yanked it out of reach, his other hand tugging your head back to force you to look at him. His face was too close, his blue eyes gleaming with something cruel and unhinged.

"You wanna beg now, huh?" he muttered, pressing the phone against your cheek, his thumb swiping over the screen. "Go on. Answer it. Tell her how you're too busy getting fucked to come back."

Your stomach dropped. "I can't-"

Rafe leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Answer.The.Fucking.Phone. NOW."

The phone clicked, and Kiara's voice rang out loud and clear. "Y/N? What the hell is taking so long? Where are you?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, tears spilling down your cheeks as you tried to steady your voice. "Kie... I-I'm fine."

"Fine? You don't sound fine. Where are you? Did something happen?"

Your lips trembled as you felt Rafe move against you, his hand sliding back to your thigh, his grip firm and possessive. He pressed a kiss to your temple, mockingly soft, before murmuring into your ear, "Say it, or I'll say it for you."

"I'm fine," you said quickly, your voice breaking as you forced the words out. "I got—distracted. I'll catch up with you later."

"Distracted? What are you talking about? You don't sound-"

"I gotta go," you cut her off, your voice shaking as Rafe pulled the phone from your ear.

The line went dead.

You let out a shaky breath, your whole body trembling as you looked up at Rafe. His expression was pure smug satisfaction, his lips pulling into that wicked smirk that made your chest tighten.

"See?" he muttered, tossing the phone onto the floorboard. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You're a fucking monster," you whispered, tears streaming down your face as you pushed at his chest weakly.

Rafe laughed, low and taunting, as he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. "You say that now, but I don't think your pussy got the memo. You're squeezing me so tight right now-what do you think that means, huh?"

"Stop-"

"No, you stop," Rafe snapped, his voice darkening as he leaned in closer, his face hovering just above yours. "You wanna play the victim, act like you hate this, but I know the truth. You fucking love it.“

You couldn’t even argue with him. Not when he was abusing your g spot the way he was.

The backseat of Rafe's truck had turned into a world of its own-hot, suffocating, and inescapable. The windows dripped condensation, a cage of sweat and shadows that blurred the outside world into nothing. It was just you and him, and every second passed like a fever you couldn't break.

Rafe hadn't let up-not with his words, not with his hands. He was relentless, pressing you deeper into the leather, dragging every ounce of fight you had left out of you. Every time you thought you could pull yourself back together, he shattered you all over again.

"You're not even trying to fight me anymore," Rafe murmured, his voice low and taunting as he stared down at you. The blue of his eyes looked almost silver in the faint light, glinting with satisfaction as they dragged over your tear-streaked face. "That's sweet. Guess you finally figured it out."

Your chest heaved with shaky breaths, your body trembling beneath him as you turned your head away. "I hate you," you whispered weakly, the words barely audible.

Rafe grabbed your chin, his fingers digging in just enough to make you look at him. "Yeah?" he taunted, his grin wicked. "You love repeating yourself, huh?. Go on. Keep telling me how much you hate me while you're laying here, dripping all over my seat like a desperate little Pogue slut.”

You clenched your jaw, the tears pooling in your eyes making it hard to see him clearly.

"I... I hate you."

Rafe's expression didn't change. If anything, his smirk deepened, like he was enjoying every second of your misery. "Nah," he said softly, shaking his head as his thumb brushed across your lip. "That's not what I wanna hear."

"Rafe, please.." you choked out, your voice breaking.

"Please what?" he taunted, his tone dripping with mockery. "You want me to stop? Want me to let you go so you can run back to those broke-ass Pogues? Fuck that." He leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Tell me what you really want."

Your heart sank, every word tightening around your throat like a noose. "Don’t…Don’t stop," you whispered.

Rafe grinned, his hand slipping to rest at your jaw, his grip firm but not cruel. "That's better," he murmured, tilting your head back so you couldn't look away. "Say it again. Louder."

Your lip trembled as the words slipped from your mouth like poison. "Don’t stop, Rafe…please."

"Good girl," Rafe muttered, his thumb tracing along the tear-streaked curve of your cheek.

"See how easy that was? You can listen when you want to."

You closed your eyes, fresh tears spilling down your face, but Rafe wasn't done. His grip tightened slightly, a warning, as his voice dipped lower. "You know what else I wanna hear?"

You nodded your head submissively. "Please... tell me, Rafe.”

He smirks at your obedience before speaking, his tone firm and commanding. "Say you'd choose me over them. Over your little Pogue friends. Say it, Y/N."

Your eyes snapped open, horror twisting in your chest as you stared up at him. "No."

Rafe tilted his head, his smirk cold and sharp.

"No?" He chuckled softly, his grip never wavering as his free hand trailed down your side, slow and deliberate. "You don't get to say no. Not anymore. Say it."

You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat as you tried to pull back-tried to escape the weight of him, the weight of his words. "I-I don’t wanna."

"I didn’t fucking ask if you wanted to." Rafe growled, his face inches from yours. "You're mine now. Not theirs. Mine. Say it."

You shook your head weakly, tears streaming freely now as your chest heaved. "I-l'd choose you."

Rafe froze, his gaze locking onto yours, something wild and triumphant sparking in his eyes. "What was that?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, your voice breaking as you repeated the words he wanted. "I'd choose you over them."

"Look at me when you say it."

You blinked up at him, the tears blurring his face as you choked out the words again. "I'd choose you over them, Rafe."

His grin stretched wider, his expression dark and smug as he brushed his lips against your ear.

"Damn right you would," he murmured, his voice soft but venomous. "They don't deserve you. They never did. I'm the only one who sees you for what you are."

You didn't respond. How could you? The fight had drained from your body completely, leaving you trembling and broken beneath him as he watched you with the same victorious gleam in his blue eyes.

But Rafe wasn't done.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, his tone low but firm, his grip tightening on your jaw.

Your stomach twisted, fresh tears spilling as you stared up at him, wide-eyed and uncertain.

"Rafe, why-"

"Do it," he snapped, his voice sharper now, his smirk twisting into something darker. "Don't make me ask again, Pogue."

Your lip trembled, your body shaking as you parted your lips hesitantly, the humiliation burning through you like fire.

"That's my girl," Rafe muttered, his eyes locked onto yours, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip before he leaned forward. Without hesitation, he spit into your mouth, the action deliberate, possessive, and utterly degrading.

"Swallow that shit," Rafe commanded, his tone calm but laced with authority. "Don't even think about spitting it out."

Your throat tightened, the shame twisting in your chest as you obeyed, swallowing under his watchful gaze.

"That's it," he murmured, his grin widening as he cupped your cheek, his pale fingers brushing against your tear-streaked skin.

"Good fucking girl. That's why you're mine. Because no one else could handle you like this."

His thumb dragged across your lips, smearing the wetness there as he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze again.

"Say it one more time," he whispered, his voice soft but no less commanding. "Say you'd choose me over them."

You choked back a sob, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. "I'd choose you over them."

"Good girl," Rafe whispered, his voice almost tender as he pressed a kiss to your jaw. "I knew you'd come around eventually. You just needed me to remind you where you belong."

He pulled back just slightly, his gaze lingering on your tear-streaked face as he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip. "Bet you'd let me knock you up, wouldn't you?" Rafe murmured, his voice almost soft, his smirk curling into something sinister. "Let me put a fucking Kook baby in you. Make you mine for real."

Your stomach flipped, your heart pounding in your chest as you stared up at him in disbelief. "You're sick," you whispered, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks.

Rafe chuckled darkly, his thumb dragging along your jaw as his pale fingers stood out against your dark skin. "Yeah, well so are you. Ditching your friends and begging for my dick." He leaned closer, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, "What kinda girl does that make you, huh?"

You were quiet and couldn’t even respond…how could you. He was right. You begged him not to stop and even now you wanted him to keep sliding his dick in you.

Rafe's smirk widened as your silence stretched. "I asked you a fucking question," he growled, his hand suddenly tightening around your throat. The pressure made you gasp, your back arching against the seat as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your lips. "What kinda girl does that make you?"

You shook your head weakly, the tears spilling faster now as your chest heaved.

"Rafe, what do you want-"

"Don't fucking 'question' me," he snapped, his grip tightening further, sending a dizzying rush through your body. His other hand slid down to grab your hip, pulling you closer as he sneered, "Say it. Say what you are, baby. You're my little whore, aren't you? My dirty Pogue bitch who can't get enough."

A broken sob escaped you, and his grin only grew as he tilted your head back, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Tell me who you belong to.”

Your breath hitched, your voice barely above a whisper as the words slipped past your lips, tasting like poison and fire. "I'm... I'm yours."

"Yeah, you fucking are," Rafe muttered, his tone softening just slightly as he released your throat, dragging his hand back to your clit, playing with it as he continues to thrust into you, deep.

Your chest heaved, your body trembling as you felt yourself tipping over the edge, that coil of tension snapping inside you as you come around his dick. You gasp sharply, your head falling back against the seat as your body arched into his.

"Ah shit," Rafe grunted with a deep sigh, his voice dark and triumphant as his hand slid up your brown thigh, his fingers digging into your soft skin.

"That's my good girl. You're so fucking perfect when you cum for me."

You whimpered, tears spilling freely now, your mind fogged and overwhelmed. But Rafe didn't stop. He wasn't done with you yet.

"Look at me," he ordered, his tone commanding as he grabbed your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His blue eyes burned into your brown ones, the smug smirk on his lips twisting into something darker. "You think I'm letting you off that easy. You're gonna give me one more."

"Rafe-" you choked out, your voice trembling.

"Don't fucking fight me," he snapped, his grip tightening. "You've got one more in you, baby. I know you do. And you're gonna give it to me."

Your body trembled, your head spinning as he pushed you further, relentless in his thrusts.

Every nerve was on fire, every sound that escaped your lips ripped from your chest against your will.

"That's it," Rafe murmured, his voice dropping to a low, possessive growl. "Give me one more baby…just one more around my dick."

The words hit you like a punch, and you shattered, the wave crashing over you so hard it left you breathless. Rafe followed you down, his grip tightening as his own body tensed, his head falling into the crook of your neck as a low, guttural sound escaped his lips as he got closer.

Rafe didn't stop. He followed you through it, his strokes still sharp and relentless, his grip firm as he kept you exactly where he wanted you. His breath was ragged, a low, guttural sound escaping his lips as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

For a moment, everything stilled. The truck rocked gently beneath you, the windows fogged, the world outside feeling a million miles away. His weight pressed into you, heavy and grounding, his chest heaving against yours.

You should have been angry. Humiliated. But instead, the words left your lips before you could stop them.

"Rafe... cum in me."

His head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he pulled back just enough to look at you.

The smirk that spread across his face was sharp and wicked, his tone laced with mockery as he chuckled. "Oh, you think you're calling the shots now?"

"Please..." you whispered, your voice trembling as fresh tears slid down your cheeks.

Rafe leaned closer, his nose brushing against yours as he sneered. "What makes you think you've earned that, huh? After pulling that little stunt on my boat? You think you can tell me what to do?"

You shook your head weakly, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. "I'm sorry-"

"Sorry doesn't fucking cut it," he growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he moved again, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips. "You wanna tell me what to do? No, I tell you what to do."

You whimpered, your hands gripping at his shoulders as your body trembled beneath him. "Rafe... please. I'll do anything."

"Anything?" His voice dipped into something darker, more dangerous, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear. "You'll cry for it, baby. You'll fucking beg for it, or you're not getting shit."

You bit down on your lip, the tears spilling faster now as your chest heaved. "Please," you choked out, your voice breaking.

"Please, Rafe. I need it. I need you."

"Louder," he demanded, his hand moving to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "Let me hear you fucking mean it."

Your voice cracked as you sobbed, the words spilling from your lips like a prayer. "Please, Rafe! I need you to cum in me! I'm yours-I'll do whatever you want! Just... please."

His grin widened, satisfaction gleaming in his pale blue eyes as he tilted your chin up, pressing a slow, mocking kiss to your lips.

"That's my good girl," he murmured, his tone dripping with triumph.

And when he finally came in you, letting himself unravel against you, the low, guttural sound that escaped him sent a shiver through your entire body. His weight collapsed onto you once more, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed his forehead to yours, a lazy, smug grin still plastered across his face.

Then Rafe tilted his head, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You're never leaving me now, Y/N. Not after this."

You didn't respond. You couldn't. Because deep down, you knew he was right.

And that terrified you.

The haze came quickly after that, swallowing you whole. The heat, the sweat, the steady weight of him pressed against your trembling body-all of it felt distant and surreal. You weren't sure how long you lay there, pinned beneath him, his blue eyes watching you like you were a puzzle he'd just solved.

Then his hand came up, quick and light, delivering a playful slap to your cheek. Not enough to hurt, but enough to snap your attention back to him.

"Hey," Rafe muttered, his smirk twisting into something sharper, darker. "Don't drift off on me. You're not getting out of this until you say it."

You blinked up at him, your breath shaky as the fog clouding your thoughts started to lift. "Say... what?"

Rafe's hand slid to your jaw, gripping you firmly as he tilted your head back, his lips brushing over yours in a way that felt both possessive and mocking. "Say you're sorry for what you did. For pushing me off my fucking boat."

Your lips parted, your chest heaving as his thumb dragged across your bottom lip, leaving you trembling beneath him. "Rafe, are you serious-"

"Say it," he interrupted, his voice sharp but calm, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Apologize, and maybe I'll go easy on you."

A tear slipped down your cheek as the words caught in your throat. You hated him. You hated the way he owned you, the way he twisted you into knots with nothing but his voice, his touch. But the fight had been drained from your body completely, leaving you with no choice but to obey.

"I'm sorry." you whispered, your voice cracking as fresh tears welled in your eyes.

Rafe's grin widened, his thumb brushing along your jaw as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your lips. "Louder."

Your body trembled, the shame burning hot in your chest as you repeated the words, louder this time. "I'm sorry for pushing you off your boat."

"Good girl," Kate murmured, his tone laced with triumph as his lips crashed against yours. The kiss was messy, desperate, full of teeth and heat, and you felt yourself slipping further into the haze. His hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp as his tongue claimed yours.

It wasn't sweet. It wasn't gentle. But it was addictive.

He pulled back just slightly, his pale blue eyes watching your swollen lips, the tear streaks on your face. "You feel that?" he muttered, his voice low and mocking as his hand cupped your cheek. "That's mine now. All of it. Every fucking piece of you."

You didn't argue. You still couldn't.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, his tone soft but firm, his smirk curling as his thumb tapped your bottom lip.

Your lips parted instinctively, and the haze grew thicker as he spit into your mouth again, the deliberate action pulling a low whimper from you.

Rafe's grin deepened, his eyes gleaming with something wicked as he leaned forward and whispered, “Ready for round 2?”

You paused for a second to see if he was serious and when you saw that he in fact wasn’t joking, your rolled eyes.

You were never trusting Kiara, Cleo, or Sarah again. Not that you’d get the chance to since you belonged to Rafe now.

You were his. Not theirs.

[bbyboybucket]

I’m sorry. IM SORRY but I have to talk about this, I have to do it because I’ve been thinking about it and if you are uncomfy with violence and a little bit of dark stuff, this little post ain’t for you loves. This is about Bucky btw, it’s just gonna take me a min to get to him.

But if you follow me, you prolly know I’m a fan of The Boys, by extension Gen V, and other comics projects. But if you don’t know anything about The Boys universe, they are unhinged, they do not hold back when it comes to powers, they show the full extent of what their super people are capable of and sometimes are even pretty creative with it, and that’s putting it very very lightly. But all in all, they are not shy about showing the true extent of damage super powers could do, and that includes super strength.

That being said, multiple times in The Boys universe, people with super strength punch a hole through another person’s body. Like their fist completely going through their enemies’ body, coming out the other side. And I have seen that in other media too but I can only specifically remember this franchise atm.

And with Gen V’s most recent two episodes, we’ve seen some other crazy displays of unhinged super strength from Sam. We’ve seen the mild stuff like throwing cars, breaking concrete, etc. But also he’s had insane ways of fighting, he’s not only punched holes through bodies, but also his punches have caved people’s faces in to the point there’s nothing left, he’s ripped people limb by limb, ripped spines out, literally spilt a person’s body in half with his bear hands, etc. And for demonstration, I’m gonna just slip pics of the puppet version of something he did.

So this dude, when he’s pissed, goes from using super strength normally, to literally….well you know. He and pretty much every other character with super strength in universe are capable of it, and in other media I’ve seen it too. So my point here is, that Bucky, is also capable of this and going back to the punching a hole through someone, he most likely has done so. We just will never know or see that because the MCU isn’t R-rated, it’s not that violent or gore-y.

But Bucky is without a doubt capable because this is the same dude who literally punted a man a man into the air, through a plane jet, like it was nothing, like that is the bare minimum of what he can do. And it’d be crazy to think that Bucky has never used that level of strength. If he’s spent 70 some years as an assassin, there’s no doubt that hydra has had him punch through someone’s body or rip them apart. He’s probably done it by accident. He’s maybe attacked and dismembered Hydra members when trying to break free or in a fit of rage at their torture.

And I hear y’all saying “Oh but we’ve seen him fight people and he doesn’t seem near that strong.” He doesn’t need to be messy to be efficient, that kind of strength is unnecessary to display, when he’s effortlessly stronger than most. Even with Steve (who also is capable of this btw), there wouldn’t be a lot of reason for him to be that extreme, the Winter Soldier was calculated, not unhinged and blood thirsty. And also, other characters in other media, do not do that all the time despite being capable of it.

So yeah, thinking about this adds a whole darker level to Bucky, both in that it makes him scarier but also in the angsty way that he has to be fearful of himself and remember murdering people in a lot worse ways than with a gun.

[iguessitsjustme]

Love Sea Ep 7 Thoughts

I was considering not doing a liveblog this week. This honestly might be my last one. I don’t know. I just…I don’t feel particularly welcome here anymore so this might be my last post for a while (here being tumblr. this is not love sea specific. everyone has been very nice about my liveblogs thank you). Also my tendonitis has been so extremely bad lately. Honestly, this will probably not even be much of a liveblog. Click to read if you want. Or don’t. I’m just gonna eat my pizza and watch.

I want Rak’s shirt with the little infinity over the heart.

I actually think they’re being cute right now. And I really like this music choice. Either this show has gotten better, I’ve stopped caring, or my mental state is more fragile than even I realized.

I still hate the narration at the beginning of the episodes. Stop this. It adds nothing.

Can I skip all of Vie’s scenes? Will that make it better or worse?

Rak don’t give that man money. Give that man a concussion. 

Honestly, I’ll forgive Mut everything if he just…punches Rak’s dad. Just a little. As a treat.

Save Mook. Save her.

The way I would have left Vie stranded so many times. Mook is a far better person than I. And she deserves better. This manipulation is such ass. I’m not gonna talk about it any more. It’s making me angry. Like real angry. Not just haha internet angry. But angry angry.

Mook has to threaten to quit to get Rak to do part of his job that he agreed to do and somehow she’s the bad guy? They should just rename this show Hate Mook.

This storyline with Rak’s…cousin?? I think. It bores me. I am bored.

Okay I was worried that someone would try to make it seem like Mut met Rak’s cousin in secret but it does seem like Mut told Rak about it. That’s good. Unexpected but good. Wish I cared.

What was the point of all of that? Why introduce that problem just to immediately solve it? Why immediately cancel it out? It did nothing. It added nothing. What was the point?

Noisy neighbors go AWAY

I managed to get so far into the show today before they appeared but dear god. One of these days I’m gonna leave my apartment and just be like “y’all noisy. Ya mind?”

Even MORE noisy neighbors? Anyway clapping very loud and saying “excellent. wonderful. truly amazing. love it.” in a deadpan voice gets them to at least stop being so freaking noisy. They’re still there and talking but at least they aren’t so damn loud.

Anyway I rolled my eyes the entire way through Rak’s speech.

What was Prin’s plan really? Rak will get accused of throwing water at her? If people actually believed he did that, it would blow over in what? A week? It was water. She also didn’t think there would be a camera? Seriously. What was her end game? What kind of weak ass plan was that?

If Vie just asked for help like a normal person and was willing to accept a no from Mook, Mook would be so much more eager to help. But the manipulation is crazy. How are you going to say that Mook not helping you rehearse will lead to OT for the crew. Be better at your job then???

I just had to go wash soot off of my hands. It’s better if you don’t ask. But I need you all to know my struggle.

Honestly? This episode was fine. Rak and Mut are cute now I guess. Vie can go…away. Just go away. Mook deserves better. Prin is unhinged but also this is a huge scandal because she dumped water on herself. That’s insane. The framing of the show is making out like it’s the most egregious crime. Like yeah. She tried to create a scandal by saying Rak dumped water on her but again…it’s…water. Many people have had water dumped on them and more people will in the future. It’s not like someone pulled a gun on someone. It is literally the least serious scandal of all time. The best way to deal with the Prins of the world is to just not give them any attention. Let them be off in their own little corner being unhinged by themselves. When she appears be like “oh hey. It’s you. how you been?” Just indifference. And also this scandal will blow over in a week if she just doesn’t do anything else crazy. This whole plot is so boring. Like oh no! Someone splashed some water! Whatever will they doooo???

I should go cause I’m being petty about this show. I did enjoy the episode for the most part. No screenshots today. It’s fine. It’s not the best but at least now I can enjoy it for what it is. Except for Vie. I need her not in this show actually.

Oh the show wasn’t over yet. There’s a little bit at the end. Oooohhh this is so on the nose it hurts. I get it. But dear god. This show’s writing has no subtlety whatsoever. It’s like “I need to smack all viewers upside the head with this giant hammer that says MESSAGE on it!” I GET IT. Damn this show really wants to try to do all of our thinking for us. The problem is that it isn’t doing it well. The message you are beating us over the head with should match the story you’re telling. And it’s not. Not quite. Close but not quite.

Oh and it’s paired with product placement. Message with an ad!

Oh I’m gonna hate next week’s episode. Good thing I probably won’t be liveblogging it! I might but the odds are not in liveblog’s favor. I am now gonna go and do/watch something that I actually enjoy and talk to people I love.

[smallpwbbles]

THOUGHTS ON THE SONIC MOVIE

AIGHT had these notes for a bit about the movie cuz it’s a cinematic master piece and gave me everything we wanted

Where do I even start, bro I love how they just embrace the fact sonics a silly little kid who kinda revels in the fact he’s got a family to be silly with now

That bit where he’s pretending to be airport security didn’t have to be so fucking cute but now it lives rent free in my head

NOT EVEN 10 MINS IN I THINK AND THIS BOY WENT HOLY CRAP FJDHDJDJFFJA

Thark pointed out how smart it was for sonic to be calling peeps via FaceTime since he’s got a big ass head and his ears are on top of them (I’m so glad they don’t do the phone to the side of the head even when the characters ears aren’t there, just a lil thing I don’t like)

I bet that bit where sonic was like “your meant to be my friend, stop trying to be my dad” Tom has to repress every fatherly urge to not cry at hearing that

They just embrace the fact sonic is a Wachowski y’all we fucking WON

HE DID THE 🎵 THE WOOOOOORRRSSSSSSSST 🎵 THING

Sonic called Tom dad (the way I almost became a feral animal in the cinema)

The way lost it when Maddie was like “lets go get our kid”

Super sonic was fucking amazing, I got really worried when Knuckles said he isn’t the sonic they knew anymore then sonic basically went SIKE and did a Thor to manifest a chilidog. I can’t believe they straight up made super fucking GOD, like movie sonic is ACTUALLY the strongest version of sonic there is.

The way I might make a fleetway au again with the super thing going the way knuckles said

SPEAKING OF FUCKING KNUCKLES, favourite incarnation of knuckles so far, they did him SERVICE, Idris did amazing and I love this boy

He’s not dumb mans was just raised as a damn warrior his entire life so I fucking love it when he doesn’t get earth culture

Young knuckles also almost made me a feral animal

The way him and sonic survive a collapsing structure and sonic just starts pelting him with sand balls for no reason

The running gag of his grip breaking fingers was hilarious

I love the way he goes 🤨 when Eggmans being blatantly obvious with his lack of loyalty

They way he picked up tails at the end to carry him I’m biting my arms

TAILS MY SWEET BABY ANGEL, they gave him lethal weapons that HE MADE and address he’s doing crazy shit

God I wish during the scene when he gave his backstory we got to see him as a young kit in his village

THE WAY THEY PARALLEL TOM TUCKING IN SONIC WITH SONIC DOING IT TO TAILS THEN TAILS COVERING HIM WITH HIS TAILS MAN THEY ARE FUCKING BROTHERS

The way they let Rachel go off this movie and honestly good for her

I honestly wasn’t expecting the Wedding being a set up bit actually that was pretty cool

Man I wish they would explain why sonic and knuckles have the powers they do, seems it’s not necessarily connected with the emeralds unless they explain it in the knuckles series

I’m still reveling in the fact sonic has homies/brothers now, it was so sweet when all Tom was thinking about during volleyball was for his kid to have wingmen cuz Tom and Maddie are providing more parental roles than siblings/friend roles

Jeff really said this is my movie franchise and if I want shadow in the third movie I’m putting shadow in the third movie, and to that I say LETS FUCKING GOOOOO

Eggman and Stone are just fucking perfect this movie, I really love what they do with Stone like he looks like a straight man but he’s just really good at hiding how unhinged he is

Eggman is just a rabid animal this movie, Jim just transcends this role

I really wonder what they’re gonna do with shadows character, it’s clear he’s gonna have some of the same backstory since he’s been in stasis for 50 years, I just hope they don’t make his personality close to knuckles cuz he’s defo gonna be an antagonist for the third movie

It would be so funny if they just made him batshit and unhinged, mans just HATES people

[bebepac]

Six Sentence Sunday 03.20.22/ Mood Music Monday

Hey y’all. Writing in general is coming easier again across the board.  A dear friend on here told me there’s no time table for grief and I really feel those words now.  She had given them to me in reference of a chapter I was writing and now I feel I’m living those words now.  Things are starting to feel a little better.  I can’t stress it enough, thank you for the people that have been just sharing a little extra love my way.  

Here’s what I’ve posted in the last week or so:  

A Piece of Heaven on Earth: Part 2

The Rotten Apple🍎 Presents:  Unhinged

Original Post 03/20/22 at 9:02AM  EST.

Mood Music Monday Submission

A Piece of Heaven on Earth: Part 3

The Book:  TRR

The Pairing: Liam x Riley (eventually)

Movie Inspiration:  Just Like Heaven

Song Inspiration: The Nearness of You by Norah Jones

Status:  Still in the writing process

“I have some news.  First off,  I know your name, and I know where you work, and I think we should go together and see what info we can find out about you.  Since we both agree, going to your family is not a good idea.  They will think I’m crazy.”

“Thank you again for trying to help me Liam.”  

“I made you a promise, and I want to keep it.”  

“So, what’s my name?”

“It’s Riley.  Riley Brooks.”

“Riley Brooks….Do you think I look like a Riley?”

“I think you’re definitely spunky and you tell it like it is, to the point of almost being obnoxious.  So I think the name Riley suits you.”  

“What did I do to be able to afford this amazing apartment?”  

Riley used past tense.. He wasn’t ready for that yet, so he answered with present tense.

“You’re actually a doctor at Mount Sinai.”  

“I’m a doctor?  That’s pretty awesome. How did you find that out?”  

“I walked down to the little Bodega down the street. The owner knows you.”

"He's a sweet man. He would always let me bring Chance in the store with me when I went there."

“I got some Tahitian Treats, but I’m going to put those in the fridge, so we can go to the hospital.  We’re going to find more about you Riley, and figure out what happened to you.”  

“F that noise!!!  We got plenty of time for that, but You HAVE GOT TO TRY ONE NOW!  Though the best way to drink one is to put it in the freezer for a bit and let it get a little slushy.”

Riley began to chant.  “Do it… do it…. Do it…”

“Okay already, enough with the peer pressure.”

Liam opened the soda, the loud hiss of the carbonated pressure being released,  and he took a sip, his eyes widening.

"Well?!? What do you think?"

"It's good….if you like fruit punch flavored battery acid."

Riley gasped.  “You take that back!!!!”

“I mean it’s not terrible, it’s just a very strong drink.”

“And bold and obnoxious for a drink… like me?”  

Liam cracked a smile.

“But, that doesn't mean I don't  like the drink. I do. It's a very unexpected drink that I didn't  think I was looking for.  Kind of like you Riley Brooks.”

Riley smiled back at him.  It almost felt like they were flirting with each other. Were they flirting, and how the hell was this going to work out?

Mood Music Monday Submission / this week’s wacky drabble

Ice Cream Social The Book:  TRH and beyond! Series: University Student Ellie: Chapter 6 Pairings: Ellie (Ali)  is single while at university (currently) Song Inspiration:  Party in the USA by Miley Cyrus Status: Still in the writing process

Jes and Jayme had to go to the restroom leaving Ali sitting on the couch by herself.

A guy walked up to her and sat next to her.  

“Hey.”  

“Hi.”  

“What’s your name?”

“Ali.”  

“Ali I’m Trey.  Trey Jacobs.  And you look like you should be the subject of my next song.”  

“Um… is that supposed to be a compliment or a come on?”  

“You don’t know how I am?”  

“Should I?”

“Yes you should, I’m Trey Jacobs.”  

“Yeah you told me….. And?”  

“My father is Von Jacobs, the singer.”  

Why did the name Von sound so familiar?

“Oh my God you’re Trey Jacobs.”  Jess and Jayme screamed in unison when they approached the couch.

Trey seemed to perk up being recognized.  Ali found it odd,  all her life, she had wanted to not be noticed in a crowd and here this guy was begging to be.  He seemed to be living for the limelight.

“Your friend has no clue who I am,  I find it intriguing.”  

“She’s also not from here.  Her home is near Greece.”

“So you’re not American?”  

“I am American.  My mother is from New York.”  

“That’s ironic so is my Dad. But we live in California now.”

Now she remembered completely.  

Von Jacobs and her mother used to date. He was a singer.  When her mother and father separated, Von was who her mother had taken her brothers to live with for three months; no one had ever mentioned Von having a son. She thought she would keep the less than six degrees of their connection to herself.

She stared at Trey in silence. She knew her tastes in guys seemed to mimic her mother’s a bit, and she found Nicolai to be incredibly attractive, and even found Nico, his father to be quite the silver fox. She wasn’t attracted to Trey in the slightest.  He was arrogant. The only thing she felt he had going for him is that he did have very remarkable gray eyes.  She was sure his father did too.  

The Rotten Apple 🍎 : Part 7  Fall From Grace

Series: The Rotten Apple 🍎

The Book:  TRH and beyond

Pairings:  Ellie x Nico (Ellie x M!OC) / Liam x Riley

Status: Still in the writing process

“Did your son have any enemies at the palace?"

"Nicolai was well loved by everyone."

"He was following in your footsteps to the guard?"

"Yes, my son was a junior guard, because of his legacy status."

"And you trained him along with the others?"

"Yes. My son did not receive special treatment because of my Centurion Guard status."

"Did he get along with his classmates?"

"He did, I mean sure there was some rivalry between the boys, as they all want to be considered for the KingsGuard and upper level positions, in the future."

"How many left handed junior guards do you have?"

"Four."

"I will need their names."

"Why are you looking for left handed people?"

"Because the person who hit Nicolai was left handed. Was Nicolai seeing anyone?"

Nico thought about Elle. But she had said they weren't together in that way.

"No, not to my knowledge. Why do you ask?"

"The trajectory of the hit has Nicolai in a seated position, with his assailant straddling him."

"Like a lover?"

"He had no defensive wounds on his hands, so he did not fear his assailant, nor was he expecting the attack."

"And the weapon?"

"Small bat-like in construction, but jeweled. We found these in his head wound."

A diamond and a ruby were in the small glass specimen jar the officer held up.

Nico jumped up.

"So it’s related to the palace?  This is a lot to take in. ”

"I completely understand. If you can get me the names of  your students so we can compile more info and I will contact the King. We need access to the palace to investigate further. The weapon is probably something stolen from the Crown’s own jewels."

"I will have the names of my students to you  first thing tomorrow."

Nico had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The names were not needed.

He sat in his vehicle and pulled out his wallet. He wanted to be wrong. He needed to be wrong.

He pulled out the bills in his wallet.  He had a 50 and on the back of it was the King and Queen of Cordonia. Liam standing regally in the middle, Queen Riley holding the ceremonial Ruby Apple in her hand, and Elle posing with her bejeweled royal scepter….in her LEFT HAND.

Elle was also left handed like her mother.

Nico texted a friend he knew.

Nico: I know we haven’t been on speaking terms for a while but I really need a favor.

Alana: Must be a huge one if you’re coming to me. But you know I got you. What do you need my dear Nico KH?

Nico: Luminol spray.

Alana: Whaaat? Going all CSI- Cordonia on the palace? Swing by later. I'll hook you up with what you need.

[daddywanken0bi]

Armor

word count: 1.7k

author: Allie

warnings: female reader, but none other than that. it’s fluffy :)

a/n: oh my gosh it’s been so long. Jess and I have been working like crazy this semester, but we’re finally on break. And this one, for some reason, took forever to write. I still don’t think it’s perfect, but I don’t want to keep y’all waiting any longer. 

Obi Wan x Mandalorian!reader

requested by @the-mandalorian-clone-lover​

Armor

Your armor didn’t used to feel this heavy.

It was designed to be light weight, flexible and silent in combat. It was precisely tailored to your body with chrome plating and acute edges. It used to be something you relied on and trusted to protect your most vital organs. But now, as the red paint chipped to reveal the true blue underneath, it only felt like a burden, a customized reminder of a distantly past life. You probably offended someone wearing it still, but you didn’t really care at this point. The menacing helmet was enough to prevent people from approaching you - that was the last thing you needed.

So you kept it, wore it with some sort of false pride that was more akin to stubbornness than anything else. If you were honest with yourself, you’d acknowledge the comfort it provided - a shield that prevented you from facing the Galaxy and coming to terms with your past. But life as a bounty hunter was far from honest, and you were good at your job.

Your armor hung especially low on your shoulders as you landed back on Coruscant. The target you’d been hunting for a week slipped through your fingers again. Every time you thought you had them, the bastard squirmed out of your grasp. And to add insult to injury, a colleague (to put it politely) captured the shmuck just as you were about to close in. Dejected and bitter, you returned to the city planet with very little of your pride intact.

However, as soon your boots hit the pavement, all of the tension released from your shoulders. You exhaled and tilted your gaze to the magnificent temple piercing the horizon. Beneath your chest plate, your heart reached for your lover that resided there. It wouldn’t be long until he found you, you knew, as the Force drew him to you like a moth to a flame. You shook your head, and beneath your helmet, a smile tugged at your lips.

The thought of reuniting with his sapphire eyes kept your shoulders square as you traipsed through the muddy streets. You surveyed its inhabitants, noting how any of them could be your next target. On your left, an elderly man played the ommni box, his hat on the ground for credits. On some strange level, you empathized with him: you both resorted to your talents to make a living. To your right, a couple stumbled out of a bar, giggling and collapsing on top of one another. Acidic jealousy bubbled in your stomach as you watched, but shame quickly suppressed it. It was unfair of you to be envious. Loving a Jedi was difficult, but you knew you were just as difficult to love, if not more.  

You shook your head and his eyes flashed in your mind once more. You smiled again at the reminder, and  the old man and the couple disintegrated back into the hustle and bustle. You kept your head high for the final few blocks that separated you from your building, but as soon as the elevator doors sealed behind you, you slumped against the wall. You sighed as you peeled off your helmet, grateful to release some of the weight. The hum of the lift was lulling and you hardly fought the closing of your eyelids. But the hiss of the lift doors opening reminded you that you weren’t at your apartment yet, so you heaved yourself off the wall. You could barely keep your eyes open as you made your way down the hallway. All you could think about was how wonderful your bed would feel as soon as you got the door open...if only you could get the door open.

“Are you having trouble with your key code, dear one?”

Your eyes few wide.

You swung your head, and sure enough, your lover stood, propped against the wall with his arms crossed deliciously over his chest. A smiled played on his beautiful lips a you registered him there - just as you predicted.

“Obi Wan,” You crossed to him in two steps and all but collapsed into his arms. “How long have you been here?”

“Oh, not too long.” He whispered into your dirty hair, his smile evident in his voice. You released him, eager to see that smile with your own eyes. He nearly took your breath away. Wow, was he remarkable.

You returned to your door, finally energized enough to tap in the (correct) code. You reached for him with your free hand (your helmet tucked under the other), a silent gesture for him to follow you inside. He did, and he watched as you discarded your helmet and made a b-line for the kitchen. You reached for the kettle.

“It’s good to see you.”

“You, too,” Obi Wan said as he leaned against the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest, restrained excitement bubbling in his eyes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t posses the same look. You focused back in the kettle.

“I nearly had him, you know.”

“I believe you.”

“If only that stupid patron didn’t spill their drink and make an entire scene-“

“You must be exhausted,” You hadn’t noticed his proximity until he slipped his hand under yours, taking it off the stove ignition. You peered up him.

“No more than usual,” You chuckled.

“Lets get this armor off you.”

“Obi Wan-“

“Come.”

You knew better than to argue with him. So you followed as he lead you out of the kitchen, down the hall, and into your bedroom. He dropped your hand and crossed to pull fresh clothes from your dresser. You took to opportunity to start loosening the clasps on your chest plate.

“Please,” Obi Wan took your hands again as soon as he noticed. “Let me.”

Resigning, you let your hands fall to your sides. He resumed your previous chore, gentle and patient as ever. He unbuckled the last clasp and mumbled a small “up,” urging you to lift your arms so he could pull the armor over your head. He then moved to the metal on your arms, unhinging their grasp on your biceps and forearms. He finished with your gloves - he placed a soft kiss to each palm as they were revealed.

“Sit.” He nodded towards the bed and you did as he asked. He knelt before you and began unlacing your boots. He pulled each one off, massaging your toes before removing your socks. He worked next on your shin guards, then pulled you up to stand once they were shed. He remained kneeling, peeling the last bits of armor protecting your legs to the floor. You stepped out of them, and Obi Wan gathered the discarded pieces and placed them into the drawers of your dresser.

You just admired him, joy radiating from your bones as he moved so gracefully around your room.

“Do you need help changing your clothes, too?” He teased. “I thought you would be capable of doing that yourself?” You giggled.

“I’m just so tired, Obi Wan. Would you please assist me?” You feigned, biting back a grin. His eyes rolled to the side, but his laugh gave him away.

“You’re lucky you’re beautiful.” He reached for zipper down the front of your bodysuit.

“That’s the only reason you love me-” As he pulled it down your shoulders, “-my appearance.” He pursed his lips.

“Oh no, darling.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, “I love your wit,” a kiss to your jaw, “Your humor,” to your shoulder, “Your no-nonsense attitude,” your collar bone, “Your strength,” the center of your chest, “Your flaws,” your chin…

“You,” He hovered just above your lips, “in entirety.”

You gazed at him, pure adoration in his eyes. You traced his cheekbone with your fingertips and kissed him with all the love you had to give. For he was the only thing in the galaxy that gave you purpose anymore, the least you could do was love him in return.

You drew away from him for breath, he rested his forehead on yours. You forgot for a moment that you were half dressed, until a draft shivered up your arms. Obi Wan noticed, and reached for the clean shirt he pulled out earlier. He pulled it over your head, blissful smiles permanent on both of your faces. You peeled the rest of your body suit off your legs, and replaced it with fresh lounge pants.

“There.” Obi Wan sighed, content, “Better?”

“Much.” You smiled. “Now it’s your turn, Master General.”

“Sweetheart, I’m alri-“

“It’s simply unfair that I stand so unprotected in front of you.” You placed your hands on his shoulder pads. You raised your eyebrow, and repeated the same phrase , “Let me?”

He didn’t protest, he only chuckled and nodded encouragingly. You mirrored his previous actions - drawing his chest plate over his head, unclasping his arm guards, and pulling his gloves. However, you placed a kiss to his knuckles instead of his palm. He wore significantly less armor than you, so you were done much faster than he was, but you wanted to savor the moment as he did. You caressed the linen hugging his chest, grateful to feel him near you again. You ghosted your lips at the crest of his collar bone, the small glimpse of him his robes provided.

Obi Wan lifted your chin with his finger, an endearing gesture that always sent butterflies to your stomach - this he knew. You melted into him, closed your eyes, rendered yourself completely vulnerable.

“So beautiful…” He murmured, barely audible. You leaned closer to him, expecting to feel the weight of his lips on yours-

A scream rang through the apartment. You relaxed after you realized it was only the obnoxious screech of the kettle echoing from the kitchen. The moment with your love now absolutely butchered, your head fell onto his chest, laughs and giggles spilling from both of your lips. Your head tilted back up at him.

“Care for a cup of tea?”

He grabbed your cheeks and smacked a sloppy, playful kiss to your lips.

“Absolutely!”

Wiping the kiss from your mouth and stumbling with laughter, you followed Obi Wan out of the bed room, your lost bounty forgotten with your discarded armor.

[alexackrman]

ALEX I DJDJDJFH I saw Dr strange and I gotta say I have such mixed feelings about it fjdhdhfhffh like some parts were SO GOOD and then others I was like 😬😬 excuse me whAT fjdjfjf

SPOILERS AHEAD FHDJDJ

Omg I literally don't hold any attraction to his character but my daddy issues were BLARING every time he and America interacted OML!!!! And man I'm negl the chemistry between him and Christine at the end of the movie made me fucking SWOON and when he said I love you I wanted to SCREAM IN THE THEATER AND HIM BEING VULNERABLE????? 😭😭😭😭😭😭 STOPPPPPP

Idk how I feel about America like it's not even her acting I think it's the directing but HOLY SHIT WANDA CARRIED THE MOVIE FOR ME OKAY. I LOVED her unhinged shit holy fuck they really went in on the horror hello????? I was TERRIFIED but it was so good. I just wish some of the cheesy/attempts at comedy were cut down tbh fbfjfhvh But yAAAAA omg It wasnt terrible like some of the cinematic shots were CRAZY but I don't think the movie as a whole could top the first one for me 😭😭😭😭

I’m going to say even more spoilers so I’ll make a cut and if y’all read more, then that’s your own doing 🤷🏻‍♀️

I hold no attraction to Benedict either but this movie for some reason just had me wanting to freaking sCREAM OVER HIM!! I think it was the hair honestly… maybe even the beard, idkkkk but I was losing my mind :)))) and the end scene with him and Christine omg, I may have shed a tear or two ???? like I get super emotional real quick over these movies but that specific part just STABBED ME right in the gut

I wanted to like America, I really did, especially cause she’s one of the first main characters I know of in a marvel film to represent Hispanics and as a Hispanic I was so excited to see her and she was great, Xochitl is a pretty good actress, but the writing for her character just wasn’t it for me :// not sure if it was the way she was written specifically for the film to flow the way it did or just a bit of lazy writing for her, but I think they could’ve made her character a bit better

and Wanda, HOLY SHIT I WAS WANTING TO JUMP OUT OF MY SEAT AND CHEER HER ON EVERYTIME SHE WAS ON THE SCREEN!!!!! I was like, “that is both terrifying but attractive 😀” Elizabeth Olsen did such an amazing job in this film and it wasn’t even HER film, it was part of the DS movies but jeezus I LOVED HER AND SHE WAS THE DAMN MOMENT (I did cry a little when she just snapped Charles Xavier’s neck, I wasn’t expecting that at all!!)

but yeah the cinematography was great, it had me very dizzy in some parts but the first one in terms of effects and storyline and whatnot was so much better for me, this one seemed a bit try hard at the comedic relief that most marvel movies have, especially cause this one was so much darker than others and I jumped a few times in some scenes.. like no this didn’t meet my expectations, but it wasn’t terrible either, and I’m sure it was made the way it was to set up the later films and shows to connect things later…. I just wanna see Wanda again *sigh*

[desidarling123]

FATWS Episode 4: A Definitive* Rank Ordering of Most Interesting Character Arcs, from Yours Truly

(*And by definitive I mean completely subjective, but yanno.)

IF YOU HAVEN'T FIGURED IT OUT BY NOW: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR FATWS. SCROLL AWAY NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT EM.

Now let's get into it:

1. John Walker

Let me start by saying -- the near-universal John Walker hate from fandom has always been largely undeserved, and that's a hill I'll die on. It comes out of, I think, a visceral sort of need to slot him into an easily understood black-or-white binary when, truthfully, he is neither, and I think this episode was the BEST example of that. The sheer range he exhibits in such a short time -- a handful of character moments and action sequences in the larger fifty minute episode -- serve to humanize him in a way that's messy and intense and very, very real.

Because MAN. Whether you were already sympathetic to John's plight or not, the death of his partner, Lemar Hoskins, is viscerally disturbing. There's no other way to put it. FATWS has not shied away from some pretty crazy onscreen kills, but this one was arguably the worst in how brutally mundane it was. Lemar was in the wrong place at the wrong time -- a man fighting amongst a whole room of super soldiers. He never stood a chance -- and yet, he still jumped in harm's way to save his best friend, a man in whom he saw indisputable goodness, even when the man could not see it himself. There's an obvious Steve/Bucky parallel here, but with a much darker and more realistic twist -- not all of us, after all, can be lucky enough to receive super strength that could save our lives. Lemar was always a regular mortal -- and for that transgression, he pays the ultimate price.

And then. What happens after. Oh. My. God. I felt Walker's rage and hopelessness through the screen. The death of that Flag Smasher -- at the hands of Captain America, no less, a man he'd admitted to admiring as a child not ten minutes earlier -- was brilliantly executed.

With the final shot of the townspeople recording the brutal murder it becomes overwhelmingly clear -- we are witnessing the tragic fall of a man who was, for all his previous missteps, trying to be a hero. But John's moral compass just died a meaningless, horrible death -- and without him by his side, Walker has become a man unhinged.

2. Bucky Barnes and Ayo

I debated putting this one at number two because I'd argue there were some weird elements to the writing choices made (more on that in a sec), but, nevertheless. Bucky and Ayo get slot #2.

That flashback to Wakanda got me excited, but I didn't expect my heart to get shattered almost right away. Oh. My. God. His interactions with Ayo BROKE ME. There's so much nuance in a scene that’s incredibly well-acted by both Sebastian and Florence — you see both of them in a moment that is incredibly pivotal for the former’s character, and we see the latter reacting with sympathy, strength, and enormous grace. I had expected a scene like this to be with Shuri (given that we last saw her with Bucky in the post credits of Black Panther) but, given the context of what was being performed (a final test of the trigger words) having Ayo there made a lot of sense. She could take him down if need be — but as the scene so wonderfully shows, thankfully, she doesn’t have to. Instead, she’s there to let him know that for the first time in almost a century, he’s free again.

Now, let’s get into some of the unevenness. I had hoped, at the end of the last episode, that Bucky had at least informed the Dora Milaje of his liaison with Zemo — that, perhaps, it had been Bucky’s intent to hand him over all along. Alas, that was not the case — Bucky, it seems, had broken Zemo out with little thought to — or perhaps simply silent acceptance of — the consequences that would come with it.

This is the part, again, where the writing felt a bit weak. We know from the opening shots of the episode that Bucky cares enormously for Ayo — they’re not simply soldiers in arms, but they’ve shared a moment of immense vulnerability together. We ALSO know that he cares enormously for T’Challa, for Shuri, and for Wakanda as a country (see Infinity War, where he says “I love this place” in reference to his new home).

So that begs the question — why? Why did he betray them in that way, besides sheer desperation for a lead? And it’s not one, I’d argue, that we are given a satisfying answer to. Bucky has been reckless to an alarming degree in the last few episodes, but not informing Wakanda of his intention to liaise with the man who killed their king feels like a MAJOR tactical oversight. Is he willing to burn everything down to win this battle against the Flag Smashers? Are these his self destructive tendencies kicking in? OR, is he just truly so blinded by his emotions surrounding his past that he’s willing to throw away what could very well be his future? Only time will tell. But I hope he’ll do right by Ayo and Wakanda, as he clearly has a LOT to make up for.

3. Baron Helmut Zemo

God. I love Zemo’s psychotic, problematic ass. Say what you want, but the man is the most efficient of them all and he isn't a super soldier or an Avenger. Over and over, he shows that he's truly smarter than them and always has been.

He doesn't get personal. He doesn’t get distracted. He knows exactly what his goal is, and he executes on it. Mans didn’t hesitate to unload several bullets into Karli, and as soon as he figured out what the vials were, he destroyed all except one. Like I said, the most efficient person on the team. Has arguably done more to forward the cause against the Flag Smashers/continued existence of super soldiers than anyone else and it’s only been a few days. Between that, his god-awful dancing skills and him shooting the eugenicist scientist without so much as a blink of an eye, I think he's a man after my own heart. I’m almost sad to see him get what’s coming for him come next episode. (Because y’all, he did still kill King T’Chaka, and there’s no way the Dora leave here without taking him out on a silver platter and an apple stuffed in his mouth). But again, let’s see how that pans out.

4. Sam Wilson

WHAT are the writers doing to Sam, I swear to God? We didn't get too much introspection into where his head's at during this episode, and when we did the treatment felt uneven at best. I think, in trying to have him create a rapport with Karli, the writers have created some areas of commonality that didn’t always translate as they’d like. It was also weird to see Sam swinging from the well-earned cynicism of the previous two episodes to the sort of wide-eyed optimism Steve used to portray. Perhaps that was simply to try and show Karli an alternative, but as the episode showed, she clearly wasn't buying (though, in Sam’s defense, he came pretty close).

Something about Sam’s characterization in this episode didn’t really do it for me — I would argue episode one and two were both stronger in that regard. Nevertheless, I’m hopeful that they’ll correct it in the next one.

5. Karli Morgenthau

Her treatment is arguably the worst of them all. She is young, yeah, but she oscillates at an alarming rate between spouting class discourse that, by this episode, feels largely derivative (like someone scrolled on Twitter and put a bunch of keywords together in hopes of evoking an emotional audience response) and homicidal tendencies that show a brutal yet fundamentally messy underpinning. Unlike Zemo, she is still too easily confounded, and that will come to bite her in the ass sooner rather than later. (See: The Power Broker)

Perhaps I'm meant to be rooting for her on some degree but I really can't -- she's cruel and sloppy, which I cannot forgive.

Oh, and she killed Lemar Hoskins and threatened Sarah Wilson. Yikes.

Overall Episode Takeaway: A lot of shocking moments and great acting beats for everyone involved (arguably some of the best of the series thus far), but the weakness of the writing does crop up in parts. Whether they'll be corrected for going forward is to be determined...

UP NEXT: Meta pieces for Sam, Bucky, John, and Zemo all in the works!

[blodreina-noumou]

What's your favorite underrated Murphy moment?

I can only pick one? Impossible! I’ll give you my top 3. In no particular order, because this man is underrated in countless ways!

1 - “Your plan was better, let’s go.”

In 4x01, Emori is scavenging and preparing to flee Polis in the aftermath of the City of Light fiasco. Murphy manages to convince her that they’ll be safe with Skaikru, which is a sweet scene on its own. But my favorite moment of his comes when we see him next. 

Polis is tense, on the verge of breaking out into battle, and Skaikru is planning how they’ll keep the peace long enough for Roan to wake up and retake control. Murphy walks up to Bellamy, who’s standing with Indra and Kane. Murphy only needs to hear about thirty seconds of their plan - which includes Bellamy risking his life and offering Azgeda guns, to keep Echo occupied long enough for Abby to save Roan - before he realizes that his assumptions of safety among his people were wrong. Still he plays along for a few moments more, quietly accepts Bellamy’s gun, and goes to pretend to stand post. But in reality, he finds Emori again, and says: 

“Remember what I said about being safe with my people? Yeah, your plan was better, let’s go.”

It’s a small moment, but it shows so much about what makes Murphy amazing. He’s a survivor, not because he’s “a cockroach,” but because he’s adaptable, charming, and resourceful. This scene shows that subtly but very clearly. He hears new information, gets his hands on a weapon, and changes his plans in the span of a single scene, without doing much more than staying quiet and assessing the situation - something most other characters in this show really struggle to do.

2 - “Do I get a gun now?”

In 2x03, Bellamy and Finn are leading a team in the woods to find Clarke - a team which includes Murphy, who is pretty fresh off his Total Douchebag phase of s1. Bellamy and Finn are including him in the search party out of a lack of options more than anything else, and Murphy himself is tagging along to avoid the scrutiny of Team Adult, who have recently touched down on Earth. Nobody trusts each other, and Bellamy is still treating Murphy as expendable.

Bellamy barks out orders to his squad, leaving Murphy without an assignment until the very end. Monroe asks what Murphy will do, causing him to quip: “Yeah, do I get a gun now?” 

Bellamy snarks, “Something like that.”

The next we see of Murphy, he’s crouched at the base of a tree, tapping two stones together, looking anxious but determined. He manages to lead the Grounder they’ve targeted to a secluded spot, where Bellamy can knock him out.

At this point, although we’ve had the humanizing moment of Murphy telling Raven his story, as they both lay dying on the floor of the dropship, Murphy is still a not-yet-reformed antagonist. He hasn’t taken part in trying to save the girl on the cliff, yet, and we haven’t seen him in contrast to Finn’s later unhinged violence. He’s got a long way to go from “guy who peed on someone who asked for water” to “dashing hero who got the girl and also became a godking.” 

Because of that, there are so many wonderful little moments that help transform him in s2, but this scene is one of my favorites. It’s one of the first times we get to see Murphy used as straight-up comic relief, which is something the show will go on to fully embrace about him in the later seasons.

But it’s also one of the first times the characters get to see that Murphy actually can be a team player, and that he will put himself on the line, given the proper circumstances. Murphy has the most reason out of any of them to be afraid of the Grounders, to want nothing to do with them, to protect himself above all else - he was tortured by them, brutally, then used as a biological weapon against his people by them, and then tortured again. 

It would’ve been 100% his right to say, “No, go float yourself, I’m not facing these monsters without a gun.” But he’s brave, and far more heroic than he ever gets credit for, especially early on. This aspect of his personality only continues to develop and blossom over the next five seasons, and it’s beautiful to watch.

3 - “Tell me about Harper.”

4x13 is actually one of my all-time favorite episodes. I think it’s one of the few times this show has managed to expertly blend meaningful character moments with a compelling, exciting plot. We get to see so many sides of everyone, and the exchanges between Murphy and Monty are some of the best.

Monty (somewhat rightfully) distrusts and dislikes Murphy at this point, as the only real experience he’s had with him was when Murphy threatened to kill Jasper in early s1. Monty is freshly grieving Jasper, and it’s clear he resents Murphy’s presence. But Monty and Murphy must work together, if any of them stand a chance of surviving - including the two women they each love above anyone else, Harper and Emori, respectively.

The men are struggling to carry back a machine vital to their survival on The Ring. Monty has injured himself by removing his gloves in an effort to recover the machine, causing serious radiation burns on his hands, and he’s in a lot of pain. Despite Monty’s less-than-warm attitude towards him, Murphy does everything he can to support Monty and to distract him from his pain. 

The entire exchange is worth rereading, if it’s been a moment for y’all (it had been, for me):

(After forcing his gloves back over his radiation-burned hands, Monty reaches to lift the machine.)

Murphy: Hey, no no no no no, not with your hands, okay? I’ll do it.

Monty: It’s too heavy to carry all the way by yourself. On three. One, two, three!

(They lift the machine together, and Monty screams in agony.)

Murphy: Who knew you were a secret badass?

(Murphy and Monty start carrying the machine together, over the uneven terrain, through the pouring black rain.

Monty screams in pain again. It’s clear each step is excruciating.)

Murphy: Hey hey hey, watch your step. It’s probably a bad idea to drop the thing that’s gonna save our lives, huh?

(Monty is starting to flag, his exhaustion apparent in his face. He keeps grunting and crying out in pain.)

Murphy: Okay, okay - focus on me. Tell me about Harper.

(Monty stares up at Murphy incredulously, swaying on the spot.)

Murphy: You guys seem pretty serious, you uh, tell her you love her yet? If not, I mean, today might be the day.

Monty: I’ve told her.

Murphy (smiles): It’s crazy how it changes you, isn’t it?

Monty then proceeds to pass out. Murphy begs him to stay conscious, but after a few moments, it’s clear that he’s on his own, and that Monty is in serious danger. Murphy has to make a choice, and he makes the right one - he lifts the incredibly heavy, lifesaving machine all on his own, and staggers back to the lab, leaving Monty behind. Fortunately, they’re able to save Monty later, and he says one of my favorite Monty lines: 

“You chose the machine!? I may not hate you anymore.”

Monty and Murphy bonded here, over their love for the incredible women in their lives, and over the unfortunate and harsh reality that some things are worth dying for, worth being in pain for, worth sacrificing other people for. This scene shows so much - Murphy’s pragmatism, but also his romantic nature, his reliance on humor as a defense mechanism, and his willingness to do difficult things to survive. It’s peak John Murphy, way back in s4. 

My love for him, which had been growing strong since s2, was fully sealed with this scene.

He has many more memorable moments, but this is long enough. Thanks so much for the question! It really helps me write meta when people ask specific things. And I’ve never had the chance to really talk about Murphy!

[gamergirluprising]

Alastor’s Possible Backstory, Emotional, And Mental State.

Okay, so, I find Alastor from Hazbin Hotel one of the few characters that interest me due to his sheer mysterious aura. He has a lot of secrets and I’d like to dissect this man down to his mannerisms, his beliefs, his (low-key/high-key?) pessimistic view of life, and his use of voodoo. I personally am not a fan of the said show since it’s pretty vulgar and hasn’t caught my attention due to the possible problems I see in the show (Why the heck did the God in this universe allow a hierarchy to take place AND give people superpowers by turning them into magical animals and such? Why did he even make a Hell?) 

But anyway, I’m not here to discuss my likes and dislikes about the show, I'm here to discuss the Radio Demon and what could have possibly happened in his life as a child to start this craziness and explain his complex personality, mental state, and emotional state. Alrighty with that being said, LET’S DISSECT!

ＭＥＮＴＡ L~𝓔𝓜𝓞𝓣𝓘𝓞𝓝𝓐𝓛 ~BEGINNING

Dude’s got a mental problem fam, and I'm not saying this just cause this man’s teeth are as yellow as Bill Cipher’s entire existence. No, no, no this man is crazy for not just his unhinged need to see other’s fail and to have utter and complete control(Will tackle later) he’s crazy for his huge narcissistic behavior. Dude, Honestly thinks he’s better than everyone and ONLY allows those he thinks are worthy into his “friend” circle. I quote friend because I’m not too sure how exactly and deeply he feels about Rosie aside from their relationship being like Jack and Mary from Mary Poppins Returns, as stated by Vivzie on twitter. He finds those who don’t always smile as people who are WEAK and LAUGHABLE and regardless of how they are, he still finds them to be weak, which BY GOD is such a flawed way of thinking GEEZ. Now after reading about Alastor and becoming more intrigued, I decided to do research on his behavior and when and how it starts. 

𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐦 has 9 defining traits. I’ll go over a few that I’ve noticed.

1. He really thinks he’s more important than anyone else and has shown this through his mannerisms, the way he speaks, his vibe and just his general character scream “I’m better than you!”

2. HE LOVES SHOWING OFF! Dude can’t seem to get enough of the spotlight, thus why he LOVES to broadcast his carnage on the radio! Why else would he do so!? He finds constant admiration and respect when he does his “little” display of power!

3. Now, we ALL know he has done some pretty...gruesome things to claim strength and be seen as the strongest, even when there are others who are stronger he displays himself as if he is more dominating and wouldn’t waste his time with, how you say, vermin. This is evident by his response to Vox

You can find where I found this here at Faustisse’s cleanup and Inking vid of the upcoming Alastor Comic https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_15UYpcWJ_Q

In case it is too hard to read due to the bad quality, Alastor is saying “Show off all that and no cattle.” which is pretty much  “all hat, no cattle” (or, alternately, “big hat, no cattle”) which refers to someone who is all talk with no action, power, or substance behind his/her words. I’d applaud this power move, and still kinda do, if it weren’t for this dudes BIG HEAD lol.

BUT, you get the point, the dude is an egomaniac! “We already knew this, I mean DUH!” you say to me pinching the bridge of your nose. “Why do you point out the obvious?!”

Well, notice how severe and prevalent these traits are. Don’t you find it odd how this dude has SEVERE megalomania? Well, I did research and found out that Narcissism has a very sad connection most of the time and affects males more than females.

at https://www.healthdirect.gov.au/causes-of-npd here’s what I found

Notice the parental factors during early childhood are all abuse-related. This could very well be one, if not the main reason, why Al is the way he is: He was abused as a child! And to make matters worse, as I was looking deeper into this, I noticed that sexual abuse is ANOTHER factor, which would explain why Alastor doesn’t like being touched without consent or by surprise but will GLADLY invade other’s personal space to feel in control (He's a hypocrite like that). Sexual assault victims ALSO don’t like being touched without consent so this just adds more proof to my claim! And serial killers tend to have a rough family life and have been molested, taken advantage of, neglected, or all of the above! 

It’s also come to my attention that Alastor enjoys talking with women more than men for 2 reasons. 1) Alastor finds it easier and more enjoyable to talk with women. 2) He finds men to be dumb brutes at least in hell.

I give COMPLETE CREDIT to @dollymoon

Thank you for the awesome amount of facts you’ve provided! RESPECT! https://www.tumblr/dollymoon

Alastor most likely has a very harsh grudge against the world due to his treatment as a young child. His abuse, and possible loss of his mother growing up, lead to him finding joy in seeing those suffer and fail EVERY SINGLE TIME! Notice the way he talks creepily to Charlie about watching sinners “Repeatedly trip and tumble down to the fiery pits of F A I L U R E.” Look at this man’s face as he’s saying this! The man looks turned on with the VERY fact of people suffering, that’s his kink, y’all, he a damn sadist! (No, being asexual doesn’t mean you can’t have kinks, I’ve checked, lol. Got you fam.) Ima kink shame the hell out of this man (Pun-unintended) 

Ahem, anyway, this dude has got a hate boner for the world and finds relief when exacting pain on others because he feels wronged and feels the world is to blame. He does seem to acknowledge and accept that where he’s at is the end of the road for those who want to change, their chance was when they were alive, and has accepted that this is the natural order of things and they can’t fix that. I had this vibe that he must have gone to church as a kid due to his mom being religious and he loved his mom so he obeyed, Has been stated by Faustisse that he’s a mama’s boy, BUT remember, Vivzie said anything that comes out of HER mouth is what’s canon. Unless she has already stated it as fact any other info can’t be trusted. (Even though this info is PAINSTAKINGLY clear just by him mentioning his mother’s cooking and it just makes too much sense, lol.)

So he must have grown up to be low-key violent but with manners like he practiced being slick and suave in order to trick people into trusting him so that he may kill them without getting caught, which would work perfectly with him not chasing people due to his moral code. He practiced and practiced and seeing as how he was well-off in his later years, I’d assume he started doing his radio schtick when he was in his early 20s or at the age of 18. So he began when the roaring 20s was just starting, a new beginning for him! 

Alastor's name means "he who does not forget", "avenger", "persecutor", "tormenter", "one who suffers from divine vengeance".

(This also makes me think his real name is Alexander/Alexandre since it's the exact opposite of his Hell-Name and more interestingly, in terms of name-giving traditions, between the latter half of the Spanish period (1790-1803) and the beginning of Jim Crow Segregation (1893-1964), gallicized names of classical Greek and Roman origins dominated in Loiusiana. This may be due, in whole, or in part, to the fact that New Orleans had North America’s (excluding Central America and the Caribbean) first Opera Houses and Theatres, owned, frequented and operated by Creoles from Louisiana, Cuba and Saint-Domingue/Haiti. Adonis is my second choice since It literally means "handsome man" and that would totally fit him for his handsomeness to the fact I feel that his mom would def name him this outside of Alexander/Alexandre.) http://www.mylhcv.com/common-creole-names-for-males/

This is a HEAVY hint to what happened in his life and why he’s so drawn to seeing people fail and helps hold my theory together quite a bit, if not a lot. Of all the names to give this dude, he was given a name that legit is on par with the word “Vengeance” and “Avenger”. Vengeance for what? Avenge who? He was wronged. He possibly is angered also by the death of his mother, who was most likely his ONLY ray of light. He is a broken man who most likely has insecurities, based on the info of narcissism which tells us that narcissistic people are the most insecure sorts of people. Alastor is aware of this and sees it as a weakness, something to be culled and hidden from the world never seeing the light of day. His only way of making himself feel stronger and more in control was through voodoo and cannibalism. Many Cannibals believe to be the bees-knees since they go a step FURTHER into crime by devouring their victims and placing themselves into a rank different and more feared by the rest. They see that no one else would even have the balls to attempt to reach that spot, which again leads back to the way Alastor thinks. He just adds oil to the fire when doing voodoo and doing BLOOD RITUALS which you can see him doing when attacking Sir Pentious!  https://twitter.com/hntrgurl13/status/1197918059836690433?s=20

Dude has so much baggage that he hides behind a smile he thinks ALONE brings strength like niBBa are you serious? I’d like to see this man try and say that to the faces of strong people like Superman, Goku, Midoriya, Naruto, Broly, Wonder Woman, GOD. Yo even GOD shows emotions. Wanna know why these beings are strong? It ain’t just cause they smile, Nah, it’s cause they’re determined or the very literal embodiment of determination. they have a damn balance and that strength helps them smile through the pain, they don’t need to exhibit a smile to be strong cause them being themselves and having the strong mentality is what gives them strength, not a damn smile. Watch Charlie hit him with the good old reality check when the man attempts to freaking take over her joint (Both hotel and hell) and she proves strength ain’t just gained through smiling or dominating others. He high-key sounds weak for even having that mindset, only weaklings think like this. He has a very weak view of life which brought forth a monster, or should I say DEMON.

Here’s the info of him not liking being touched.

I’d also like you guys to keep in mind that Vivzie has stated that none of the characters have split personalities, proving Al knows EXACTLY what he's doing.

It’s all them but some have a DUALITY to them. As hinted at by the word "dual" within it, duality refers to having two parts, often(but not always) with opposite meanings, like the duality of good and evil. If there are two sides to a coin, metaphorically speaking, there's a duality. Notice how Alastor also has a duality in him. What kind tho? Remember those shadows that follow him everywhere? Yeah I'm pretty sure those shadows represents his duality in some way, shape, or form.

I also forgot to add that Masochism and Sadism both ALSO stem from the same things Narcissism does or similar things like being sexually abused as a kid. Remember not all cases are the same, I just wanted to put that out there (Not sure If Al is still a Masochist since that’s old info from him being just a deer and liked it when people tried to kill him.)

So in conclusion:

-Dude was possibly abused as a child by his Father

-he hates society/the world due to his terrible child life

-He possibly feels shame for what he has done and thus has accepted his fate

-He loves his mama and MOST LIKELY hates his father who probs is the one who did him a terrible service for just being his father growing up, this would explain his view on men as well

-He also feels shame for being so weak to even allow his father or any male figure to do what they did to him

-Man gets turned on when seeing people like sinners suffer.

KEEP. IN. MIND. None of this excuses his terrible behavior and excuses for being so power-hungry, He’s an interesting character and I love his quirks but he is by no means a victim without faults. He is a product of society and that’s sad but he needs to pay for his horrible actions. Cannibalism is going to far, using you and your victim’s blood for voodoo isn’t excusable, and just killing someone for the sake of vengeance won’t make the pain go away, so nothing he does that involves harming people is cute or a way to suppress his anger, which he’ll have to learn the hard way in this story, I bet. Hopefully, it’s done well cause he’s still very much a bad guy regardless of the fact that he is aiding charlie.

WHEW, that was a long post, one of my longest ones! I really wanted to write out my thoughts on this character cause I’m ALWAYS intrigued by the mystery characters like him withhold. They tend to have hints to their behavior and it was really fun traveling through the possibilities of his nature. I’m probably 100% wrong about all of what I said since I am still not sure about everything and I researched as much as I could. I wouldn’t have had such an easy time if it wasn’t for @dollymoon and their amazing efforts to inform the community, y’all crazy but y’all dedicated so respect. I am not part of the community so I wouldn’t have been able to pinpoint all the info and more. So this is my piece on Alastor the Radio Demon, a.k.a dude who looks like he’s taken ecstasy. 

P.S

-Why is this man wearing a torn up and ragged jacket when he can easily make himself a better freaking jacket? The man wore a one that was fresh as hell during his reprise, so what gives?! and why in God’s name is his damn teeth yellow? How you gonna say “You're never fully dressed without a smile” but got on one of the dirtiest smiles I’ve ever freaking seen? I'd rather not smile and be strong than to wear my clothes at its dirtiest(his smile I mean). Ain’t no way in the fresh hell would I invite an edgy radioman, who I know does voodoo, into my damn house, I am too black/Haitian for that bull.

-Y’all finna tell me why y’all falling for a man who canonically has stank breathe...?

At least clean his damn teeth and give him a mint first, D A M N people!

again, thank you very much @dollymoon

but yeah, that’s my theory y’all, hope you enjoy and sorry for the constant repetition in here! DISSECTION OVER. . .

[labellerose-acheron]

Characters: Belle Rose Acheron, Onyango “Simba” Lyons, Toulouse Henri Bonfamille, Bambino Daryl Basurto, Maui, Attina Morgan Triton, Hercules Odysseus Persaud, Akela of the Seeonee Wolf Pack, Annette “Lady” Margaret Grant, Phoebus de Chateaupers, and Artemis Delphos.

Note: Instead of doing the actual questionnaire I am using this as more of a plot jumping off point. So, below you can find different thread ideas, relationships, and stories I want for my characters. Hopefully, this will make plotting a little easier for everyone! I also will update as I go throughout the year and reblog it every now and then. :) 

BELLE:

Here for all your baby needs!

She’s going to be on bedrest, so really for the next few months only friends. :(

BUT if you have a hankering for some Belle time, now you can trap her because she’s at home and will be dying for company. Do her dishes or something for her, so that she can really stress.

Also, magical law kinds of problems or any kind of law problems because they are fun for Belle’s (and my) brain, lol.

SIMBA:

Always good for making friends--if you need friends, Simba is your man.

Seriously, he needs more friends, lots of his friends have left.

Loves babies and dogs, always good talking points.

Great at business and on the Board -- so hit him up for that kind of stuff.

Also, I am working on an ADHD plot for him so if you want him to like idk misplace your paperwork or something, I’d totally be down.

Wedding shenanigans! IDK what this means exactly but he is getting married in less than a year (!!), so let’s do fun wedding things.

TOULOUSE:

Lou is going to go through a bit of a change after the New Year, so I will add more then but rn…

I am looking for some more friends maybe?

Definitely some more enemies. Lou hasn’t been a True Dick in a while.

Maybe someone to find out he has BPD and start spreading that shit around? That could be fun.

I would love to do more school stuff with him too, so if you have classes in the science building or have someone at the hospital because he shadows there!

BAMBINO:

MAUI:

Cat stuck in a tree? Building on fire? Maui is your guy.

So, I’ve had this plot I’ve been wanting to work on with him for a while where he saves a bunch of people and becomes like a “town hero”, so I need a few people who a) want to be saved from something minor to mildly traumatic (we can up the ante later to life/death but gotta start somewhere) and b) will tell people about it. That’s the important part.

THEN, I want someone to steal his hook. Taking petitions.

Those are my main goals for Maui right now, thank you.

ATTINA:

Tina is working off her community service hours that she got from, y’know, being convicted of battery. So, if your character also does community service (of any kind, but the grosser the better!) let me know, because I have been having her hop around.

Eventually, I do want her to get a job at PrideU in the research lab and maybe assistant teaching (marine biology), so if you have a character who would maybe want to be a part of that, lemme know bruh.

I also want her to start acting out a little bit, her life is falling apart so--drugs, alcohol, sex with random strangers? Down. Hit her up. She’s here for a good time, not a long time. Is this breaking her parole? You bet.

HERCULES:

He’s strong! So, he breaks things! But can also help out.

Needs friends. Like. Please give him friends.

Works at the school in the Magic History department which includes like Mundus-Magick relations and stuff, so I know some of you fuckers have him as your TA.

Be his friend, please.

AKELA:

Wolf boiii

He’s always really hard to plot with. I need to figure out what my plot is for him because right now it’s just be a grumpy boi.

Hangs out in the woods. Likes fairies. Hates Vaaghs and 90% of all other woodland creatures besides the Prince.

Can make a great ally. If you are a powerful Magick, hit him up to join the AMGMA. (Akela’s Morally Grey Magical Alliance.) So far the members are like: Eva, the Prince sorta, Goliath...is that it? Lol. See, we need more members for shenanigans. RIP the dragon.

Can make a great enemy. Though, watch yourself, he will turn you into a werewolf if you fux with his family. Exhibit A: Merida. I am not opposed to turning people, however, so if you want your bae to be a wolf--get @ me.

LADY:

My news honey! Let her interview you about something!

If you’ve got some juicy gossip, hit her up. 

If you’re more anti-Magick, or unsure, also hit her up, because she thinks everyone in this town is crazy and needs some like-minded friends. I am carrying the weight of anti-Magick sentiment on MINE OWN SHOULDERS.

Seriously, though, Lady really needs some friends. I promise she’s a great friend. She’s a Slytherin so you know it’s true.

REALLY want her to date!! Even if they just go on a date and it doesn’t continue.

REALLY want her to get a crush on a bad boy, even if it isn’t reciprocated. Or maybe he uses her. IDK but I want it.

Also, someone awaken her gay again. It has been slumbering.

PHOEBUS:

Cop things! Have him arrest you!

Also, he’s starting to get a little paranoid and unhinged, so feel free to catch him in that act.

Is being haunted, so that’s fun.

If you have shit to talk about Hades, please, let him know.

ARTEMIS:

My new darling, I love her so much. I know she’s a prickly person, but she really is so sweet and caring, okay?? I promise.

Has designated herself protector of the forest, so if you fuck with it, she will fuck with you. But, also is a curious bean and wants to know about people.

Works in Town Hall, so you can accost her unwillingly there if you want, think that she’s part of like some event committee that’d be hilarious.

Has a giant wolf. That’s fun.

Also is a medium, so if you want ghostly things, please hit me up.

Eventually, I DO want her to take someone’s magic, if only temporary, so please hit me up if that is something you want. Maybe your character wants their magic gone. Or they want someone ELSE’S magic gone as revenge. (Obvi with the consent of the other party, lol.)

Seriously, I love my bb so much there are so many cool things she can do and be part of.

EXTRENUOUS:

I really want to do a whole jealousy plot man. IDC which one I am--the person who someone is jealous of or the person who is jealous. (Don’t really want to be the object of the jealousy though, personally.) It doesn’t even need to be like a love triangle. Maybe it’s just a couple but someone else gets a crush. IDK just a fun thing I haven’t really been able to do.

More big plots! I love being included in them. Don’t even need to be a big part, but if you’re trying to put a plot together and like … one little thing isn’t working. HMU. I’m your girl.

Death. Y’all know I’m always down.

Exes! I wanna play characters who date and break up, c’mon. Everyone is always so quick to just shack up. I want people who don’t work out, for whatever reason. Or break up and get together like way later.

[livvyofthelake]

i will now be going into detail! some of these fit better than others but it’s whatever because they all fit. also i can’t promise i’ll ever be complimentary about topper so i just want to clarify that if i come across like a red hater, i’m not a red hater, i’m just a topper hater

wheezie as the debut- debut is all about being young and misunderstood, that’s literally wheezie’s entire character. she’s just a girl trying to find a place in this world! she lives on a literal former plantation, i know this girl listens to country music. it’s less about the actual songs for this one and more about the general vibe but y’all get it. wheezie could do picture to burn (homophobic version), also tied together with a smile is her and sarah

jj as fearless- i hope this doesn’t sound too dramatic but, can’t you see that i’m the one who understands you been here all along so why can’t you see you belong with me? also change??? these things will change i can feel it now these walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down it’s a revolution the time will come for us to finally win??? that’s a pogue song if i ever head one! also not to be all “you’re not sorry is about jj’s father” but you’re not sorry is about jj’s father. just. in the words of miss swift:

sarah as speak now- first of all mine is literally about her and john b… he made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter… like!!! also the story of us and enchanted and back to december ARE about kiara, they just are! and long live! of course sarah would see her friendship with the pogues as this fairytale adventure, had the time of my life fighting dragons with you! something something ward as the dragon that hoards treasure etc… and the whole point of speak now being things that were left unsaid and finding the courage to say them is sooo sarah. you can all trust me i’m a sarah expert and speak now is my second favorite taylor album, this is a comparison made in heaven. also i don’t want to say innocent is about her relationships with ward and rafe but. lowkey. like pre season 2 though

topper as red- red is an album for crazy obsessed bitches. red is an album for deranged people. who the hell writes all too well about someone they dated for three months? someone severely unhinged. topper is also severely unhinged and if he had an ounce of taylor’s talent he too would write all too well about the girl that cheated on him with the kid he tried to drown a week ago. topper would understand i knew you were trouble on the deepest level. topper would NOT understand we are never ever getting back together, because he has no dignity or perspective and is a loser. topper IS the girl at home, but he thinks he’s stay stay stay. in reality though he’s sarah’s we are never ever getting back together

cleo as 1989- 1989 is a fun album… cleo is a fun girl… 1989 is about being young and insane and a little gay and committing vehicular manslaughter. i think that as someone who was hit by a car (driven by one of her new besties), cleo would appreciate the irony, because she knows how to have fun with a situation! we haven’t exactly seen much of cleo so i don’t have a ton to go on, but new romantics is about her and the pogues. also, bad blood is her to anyone that hurts sarah. also this love came back to me etc etc

rafe as reputation- okay, at first i thought sarah would be rep, because there are essentially two sides to this album. there’s the side that’s all look what you made me do and i did something bad and girlboss music snake imagery etc, and there’s the side that’s like also i fell in love and i’m doing better than i ever was. which is so sarah right? it was perfect. alas, i sacrificed perfection because i listened to getaway car and i was like. nope. this one is rafe. now, does rafe at all exemplify songs like call it what you want or new year’s day or gorgeous or king of my heart? no, not at all. but just. listen to getaway car and you’ll get it. i’m sorry. but you’ll get it. also rafe would SO compare himself to jay gatsby, semi related: rafe thinks leo dicaprio is the greatest actor of all time but he’s only seen the wolf of wall street and thinks jordan belfort is something to aspire to

john b as lover- he’s literally a lover! it’s a cruel summer with you… sarah’s miss americana and he’s the heartbreak prince… i like shiny things but i’d marry you with paper rings??? (or dirty old bandanas, apparently) it’s just so him. plus it’s nice to have a friend is for the john b/kiara/sarah longcon! the whole vibe being about being in love and having fun and summer energy… john b is a me! stan i know it

kiara as folklore- nothing i haven’t said before but folklore is just sooo her. cardigan is SO kiara! her and sarah ARE betty and james! seven IS about the pogues!

pope as evermore- first of all pope is jj’s gold rush so jot that down. secondly. MARJORIE!!! all your closets of backlogged dreams and how you left them all to me!!! literally not only is this about his great grandmother, but about denmark too. it’s about the legacy it’s about heritage… hello??? also no body no crime, i think pope should kill the cameron men. like, ward’s already “dead” it wouldn’t be that hard. long story short being about losing his scholarship, tolerate it being about kiara. most of the songs on the album aren’t super pope but the energy of the album is. to me at least. evermore is about hitting rock bottom and then rediscovering hope, it’s about lost loves and all the things that got away, it’s about being fucked in the head. also think cowboy like me and midsummers. just vibe with it. the tennis court was covered up with some tent like thing… unrelated: i would love to see jd in a cowboy hat

it’s like. ok. debut is wheezie, fearless is jj, speak now is sarah, red is topper, 1989 is cleo, reputation is rafe, lover is john b, folklore is kiara, and evermore is pope. i may or may not go into detail later

[eyez-ff-blog]

○○ eyez | twenty-one

March 18, 2016 – Somewhere in North Carolina

Beija sat on the black leather couch as the beat swarmed through her head in repetition, tapping the end of her pen against the corner of her laptop as she answered various emails, working quietly as she listened to Jermaine try to make the finishing touches to a song he had previously worked on. “I still love the bridge of this...I loved it when I heard it the first time,” She said, yawning as she pushed some hair out of her face.

“Now that I sharpened up the lyrics I can see why. They go together,” He said as he sat next to one of his engineers, and he rubbed his chin as he nodded his head to the beat of the music.

“Mhm,” She hummed as she swayed her head to the music, eventually rapping along quietly. “...Nigga play me? Never. Give up my chain? Never. Give up my pride? Never. Show ‘em my pain? Never. Dirt on my name? Never,” She mumbled a bit as she sat back against the couch, placing her hands on top of her head slowly.

The Sheltuh was something like a safe haven for creativity—it was no wonder why J felt the need to pack up and come back down to North Carolina to be back in an atmosphere that would better help him put together a cohesive album. The track he had completed some months back was now aptly named ‘Ville Mentality,’ and it seemed that ever since he had gotten back home he was able to better focus on making it perfect. Beija was along for the ride and she had to admit that working in a new location helped her relax a bit as well and get a good rhythm of work.

Things seemed to only be getting better with everything concerning her relationship with Jermaine, and it helped a lot that the two were going to therapy together. Both her personal doctor and their couples’ counselor seemed to be helpful in working out whatever needed fixing. It also helped Beija with her coping skills and the way she dealt with her self-image. The public still had their reservations about her and how her relationship was revealed, but she was slowly learning to tune it all out. The more she could block it out, the better off she’d be. And if she could get better, Jermaine wouldn’t worry so much about her.

“Bringing lil’ mama in to help you with the monologue was dope as hell. I think it adds more to what you’re trying to do,” One of the musicians that was helping J with the track was sitting in the corner on her phone. “What else are we going to do tonight?”

“I can’t think of shit at the moment—I’m hungry and I need some food right now. What we got upstairs?” J asked.

“I think we had some noodles or some shit but I probably ate the last pack,” The engineer said, and Beija glanced up before she twisted her lips to the side.

“There’s a Chinese place around the corner, I remember seeing it...I really want some shrimp rolls,” B said before she stood up slowly. “I can go get the food if that’s alright,” She offered.

“You sure?” J asked, and he handed her his wallet when she nodded. “You know what I like,” He said before looking between the musician and the engineer. “What y’all want? I got it,” He assured.

“I’d just like some shrimp lo mein with some sprite,” The musician requested.

“Orange chicken with root beer, please,” The engineer placed his order next.

“Gotcha! I’ll be back,” B leaned over and kissed the side of Jermaine’s head before she went to slide on her shoes, heading upstairs to the ground floor of the home.

The house had even more people coming in and out—producers and musicians alike hung out throughout the house and worked. It probably seemed like some type of party if a person didn’t know any better. And even as Beija walked out of the house, she could see men standing on the porch smoking and laughing as they talked. As she passed, they spoke respectfully in greeting and she did the same, taking her keys out of her pocket before she unlocked the car that J had rented for the business trip. She hopped into the SUV and revved up the engine before she backed out the driveway slowly, and headed down the street.

She exited the affluent neighborhood after some turns, and she found the strip mall she had seen when they had first come through the part of town they were located. Parking in front of the Chinese restaurant, she went inside and took a look around, seeing a short and slender Asian woman sitting at the counter. “Hello, how may I help you?” The woman greeted.

“Uhm...let’s see if I can remember,” Beija mumbled. “Right—I need one combination fried rice with a grape soda, one shrimp lo mein with sprite, one orange chicken plate with root beer, an order of fried chicken wings with vegetable fried rice and a peach soda,” She rattled off everyone’s food orders along with her own. “Oh, also I’d like two orders of fried biscuits,” She said.

“Got it,” The woman went to the back of the restaurant and called out the order rather loudly, and Beija pulled J’s card out of his wallet as she waited for the woman to return. Once the lady did come back and report the total of the food, Beija swiped the card and put in the pin before she put his card away, sitting down to wait on the food to be finished.

About 45 minutes later the meals were finished and within Beija’s possession—she left the restaurant quickly before putting the food in the car, feeling her phone vibrate. She took it from her pocket and noticed the text notification: “Can you get some Hennessy from the liquor store? I think there’s one right there where you at,” Said one new text from ‘Baby.’

“Got you,” She texted back before locking up the car again. She walked down to the liquor store and bought a couple bottles of Hennessy, taking it back to the car before she started the car. She noticed some police cars quickly whizzing by and going into the neighborhood, but she thought nothing of it as she proceeded to head back to The Sheltuh.

She rode leisurely as she listened to the radio in the car, softly humming to herself before she turned the corner to get back to the house—she was stopped quickly, however, by the chaos that was suddenly displayed before her.

She noticed tons of police cars surrounding the house as police were ushering people out of the house. She shut off the engine to the car before she hopped out, seeing one of the police officers forcibly pulling J outside. It almost felt like a sickening case of déjà vu, and she found herself bolting towards the scene. “Hey!” She called, and suddenly she was restrained by a police officer.

“Ma’am—ma’am, you can’t go over there,” The officer tried to keep her away, and Beija found herself becoming defensive quickly.

“Get off me! That’s my boyfriend—what the fuck are y’all doing?! Ain’t nobody did nothing here,” She argued.

“We got warrant to search; there was suspicion of drug trafficking here,” The officer calmly explained. “But you’re going to have to calm down—...”

“I’ll be calm when you fucking let me go,” Beija snatched herself out of his grip. Another officer approached her, and she pulled her phone out before quickly starting to record him. “Touch me if you fucking want to. You wanna be on the news?”

“Let her through,” The officer said, and she frowned a bit before she walked past them, hearing various mumbling about ‘women like that.’ She rolled her eyes before she walked over to Jermaine, who was standing in the middle of the yard, his hands placed against the top of his head. The noises from inside of the house were familiar to Beija—they were investigating and trying to see what they could find to incriminate.

The two stared at each other before they shook their heads, and she continued to tape the incident. “This...is bullshit. Honestly,” She mumbled to herself.

Eventually the officers found nothing and had left the premises. Nothing was broken aside from the unhinged door, and most of the people who were there went home, whether out of exhaustion or out of fear. Beija and Jermaine stayed behind to clean up whatever they could, but that was hours ago...

Beija woke up from her nap on the couch, hearing the rhythmic mumbling of Jermaine’s voice. She opened her eyes and saw him at the switchboard. She could hear the beat he was mumbling along to, and she sat up slowly before she checked the time on her phone. It was a little after 5 in the morning. She remembered him starting on a beat when she had fell asleep so by the logic that it was finished and put together for him to write lyrics to, she could assume he had been up all night.

“Babe,” She yawned, and she watched as he jumped a bit, looking back at her in surprise. “You been up...? C’mon, man—you gotta get some sleep,” She frowned as she walked over at him before she sat down on his lap.

“Can’t,” He said simply before he sat the notebook on the top of the switchboard. “I’m almost finished, though. Can you help me? Then I’ll go asleep,” He dealt the deal, and Beija balled her hand into a fist as she yawned softly.

“Fine, fine. Tell me how to do this shit right here,” Beija mumbled softly, and he nodded.

For the next couple of hours, Beija worked slowly and carefully with layering the different elements of Jermaine’s raps and vocals. Once Jermaine was able to record all that he wanted, he fixed what he wanted in the song, and he finished up the track. The two silently sat in the chair in front of the switchboard as he made the final product. Beija sat comfortably in Jermaine’s lap as he slowly rocked the chair from side to side, his hand playing softly in her hair. When the track finished, Beija smirked sleepily before nodding slowly. “I fuck with that, baby. You gotta put that on the final product,” She said.

“Mhm,” He mumbled as he wrapped his arm around her waist. “Now I can go to sleep...” He yawned before he slowly laid his head against B’s shoulder.

“You okay, though? I know that shit was crazy,” She didn’t hear him answer, and she ran her hand over his before she laced her fingers with his. “I can’t stand fuckin’ cops,” She mumbled before she stood up, holding out her hand. “Come on.”

Jermaine took her hand after he shut down the studio for the time being and packed their things, and the two made their way out of the basement and eventually past the plastic cover that would temporarily replace the door. She heard J mumble in complaint about replacing the door the police kicked in. The two got into the car and headed out of the neighborhood to find the nearest hotel. There was no way they could stay at The Sheltuh when there was risk of someone intruding while they were sleeping.

After finding a hotel, Jermaine checked them into a room and after partaking in the hotel’s breakfast bar, thy took their food and things upstairs to their room. After getting some food in, the room grew silent with the sounds of deep sleeping.

The house was tucked away in the thick of the Southwest Houston neighborhood of Mission Bend—two stories high, four bedrooms and four and a half bathrooms of midway luxury. The Demarco family was a happy unit. Mother Alisha, Father Mekhi, and five beautiful children: Alonzo, Keiran, Rashaad, Beija, and Marquis, in that order. They were an average family. Mekhi worked as an officer for the HPD, while Alisha worked at the downtown branch of Texas Children’s Hospital. Their kids all went to accredited private schools, and made good grades. While most of the boys in the family were participating in sports or in academic clubs, Beija was into cheerleading and the Model UN. They were the portrait of ‘Black Excellence,” as people would say.

It was a sweltering July day, as most Houston summers would bring, but the kids were out for the summer and both Mekhi and Alisha took time off of work so that they could enjoy the holiday. As they always did, they barbequed and cooked while the kids played, then they’d eat in the back yard and go watch fireworks downtown. It was the same thing every summer. The year was 2002, and little Beija was the tender age of 12. She was a far cry from what she was in her current life—she still had that head full of curls and could run with the boys, but something was different...she seemed more carefree, a bit happier.

Beija was writing in her diary—it was a quarter past two in the afternoon. Her windows were open, letting in the fresh air after having cleaned her room and done all of her chores. She was listening to her B2K CD that her mom had given her for her birthday, humming along with the music as she sat at her desk. Her walls were covered in posters of the aforementioned band and other Hip-Hop and R&B acts of the time. She finished her entry before she closed and locked her diary shut, hearing her door open.

“BB! What you doing?” Her younger brother Marquis was the only one of the Demarco boys that was younger than she was. With big brown eyes and tanned skin much like their father’s, he was probably Mekhi’s spitting image. And he was the most annoying person Beija ever knew. “You writing about your crush or something again?” He asked.

“No, shut up and get out of my room,” Beija whined before she saw him take one of the stuffed animals off of her bed. “Stop!” She stood up as he ran out of the room, and the two of them ran down the hallway and down the stairs to the first floor.

The scents of baked beans filled the air, and Beija stopped running before she hurried into the kitchen, seeing Alisha at the stove. “Are the beans done? I want some,” She said as she stood by her mother, gently wiggling her hips from side to side. She could hear The Isley Brothers being played on the living room’s stereo system, and as Marquis went outside, the brief scent of burning charcoal and smoky meat filled Beija’s nose as well.

“Almost, baby. Go get Keiran from outside—he said he wanted to help with the potato salad,” Alisha instructed, and Beija ran out the kitchen and towards the front door, unlocking it to go outside.

The front yard of the Demarco residence was made of simply lush and green grass, planted flowers and maintained shrubs, with a portable basketball hoop sitting at the head of the driveway in front of the garage. Two of her older brothers were playing basketball with some of the neighborhood boys. “Kieran!” She called, and a dread-headed boy stopped moving as he looked back, bouncing the ball in his hand. “Mama wants you,” She said.

“A’ight,” He passed the ball to one of his friends before heading towards the front door—

“Help! Help me!”

All of the children looked down the street to see the middle child, Rashaad, running down the street. Unlike some of his siblings, he had the mixture of his mother’s bright yellow-toned complexion and his father’s rich brown skin. But there was no mistaking those big brown eyes that were usually full of playful brightness—this time, it was full of real fear. Behind him were two police officers, at full speed as they tried to catch him.

“Oh shit,” Keiran opened the front door to the house quickly. “Mama!” He called as he ran inside the house. Before long, Beija’s oldest brother was about to come into the house too as all the other boys yelled at Rashaad to get into the house. Rashaad was known as a jokester and a complete class clown, but never had he gotten into trouble with the police. It just wasn’t like him, and plus their father would tear any of the kids up for being in that type of trouble.

“What are y’all—leave him alone! He hasn’t done anything!” Alisha had come out of the house as Beija watched the police officers were trying to wrestle the boy down to the ground.

Rashaad had managed to snatch himself out of the officers’ grips, and was back to running towards the front door. He never made it.

The shot rang through the air and Beija could actually pinpoint the moment the bullet tore through his chest. He let out the most tortured of cries, his face twisted in unimaginable anguish. Beija ran full speed towards her brother as he began to collapse to the ground. She caught him in her arms, and when she looked down at his face...something was wrong. She knew he was dying, so that wasn’t the problem this time; for some reason his face was different. His skin no longer held the butterscotch tone, but completely bright. His eyes were even larger than before, and his usually round face seemed elongated towards the jaw and chin. His lips trembled as he let out ragged breaths of struggle, his blood bleeding into Beija’s outfit. But this wasn’t her brother. This scenario played in her mind so many times before, but it wasn’t Rashaad this time—

“Beija...” She heard Jermaine’s voice.

Beija shot up from her sleep, and looked around the room. The curtains kept the light from coming into the rom, and she checked the time; it was a little after 2 in the afternoon. She before she looked to her left, seeing Jermaine’s sleeping body next to hers. She heard him snore, and she let out a soft breath before she got out of bed, walking towards the bathroom before she closed the door behind her.

She shut on the light before she sat down on the floor, her back against the door before she looked down at her trembling hands. The dream woke her up so many times before. The dream wasn’t new to her and the crippling wave of hopelessness it brought her wasn’t new either. But the ending of this particular terror brought in a whole new fear that washed over her. What happened at The Sheltuh could have ended in a much different way, and the fear she had that was once dormant but tangible in context was now manifesting in the worst of her nightmares. The pained look on Jermaine’s face as he took his last breath, cradled in her arms—it would serve to haunt her for many nights and days to come.

She pulled her knees to her chest before she pressed her hand against her mouth, tears spilling out of her eyes before she bit into her palm slowly in an attempt to silence the sobbing that escaped her mouth. She closed her eyes, but the images were burned into her mind’s photography; her eyes flew open again before she let out another quivering breath, and she sniffed as she wiped away her tears. “Just a dream. It was just a dream,” She mumbled to herself as she slowly stood up, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

She stared at her reflection for a moment, and turned on the faucet to splash some cold water onto her face. She took a deep breath before she left the bathroom, walking through the room before she slid back into bed. She scooted close to J and wrapped her arms around him protectively, and she laid her head upon his chest. She felt the subconscious movement of his body, and her tension eased as she felt his arms wrap around her. He snorted softly in his sleep, and she laid silently in his arms with her fear keeping her from returning to slumber. She’d stay awake until he woke up again...until then, she could try her best to forget what her mind made her experience.