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#(I still think they’re going to be endgame by the way)

chevelleneech · 3 hours

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Both Buck/Tommy and Buddie shippers are being so dramatic about everything.

On one hand, you have people acting like Buck and Tommy is written in the stars and anyone who dislikes them are being unjust and hateful. On the other, you have people acting as if Buck can’t possibly be in a relationship with a man who isn’t Eddie, and claiming he can is somehow based in racism and hatred of Eddie.

Neither is true! The problem is that prior to 7x04, Evan Buckley was not a canon queer character. He was viewed that way by fans and Oliver Stark was all for it, but that does not change the actual canon history of the character. Therefore, the writers can only fix what they feel fits the current story. They can retcon a few things and so on, but both sides are acting like they’re right, and it makes no sense.

Yes, Buddie shippers have Oliver and Ryan on their side for the most part. Yes, Oliver believes Buck has been queer all along and he thinks a lot of the headcanons about his character’s reaction to things make sense, but he is NOT saying it’s all true. He agrees Buck was likely experiencing some jealousy when Eddie first showed up, but that does not mean Tim Minear is going to make that theory canon. It’s fans and Oliver who think it, but that does not equal canon.

As well, with things being slightly retconned or adjusted to fit the story… Tommy is obviously no longer an asshole by proximity. He was rude to Hen and Chim, but we’ve seen he him interact with the two of them since in civil ways. We know Chim thinks he’s cool. Continuing to demand he apologize on screen is a waste of time. It was five seasons ago, and the story had to change to fit Tim bringing his character back. It happens.

As for Buck/Tommy shippers, y’all have got to get off the high horse of Possibility. At the moment, there are so many ways their relationship can go, and the only reason you all are so high and mighty about it, is because you’re technically never going to be wrong until you’re wrong. Which is annoying.

Yes, Tim could choose to have Tommy stick around for another season. Yeah, Buck and Tommy could be endgame. Yeah, Buck and Tommy could… any and everything is possible, but acting as if Tommy is the love of Buck’s life and deserves fan devotion is crazy. Don’t get me wrong, I like the character. He seems nice if a little cocky, but I like that. I like that he’s written as a grown man who, even though he’s changed, still has a little bit of asshole in him.

Because yes, what he did to Buck on their first date was rude. He didn’t explain anything and left him standing outside the restaurant as if he hadn’t just told him he’s never dated a man before, and as if they hadn’t just run into his best friend. It was a dick move. However, it’s also kinda realistic. So I dug it, but that’s also all we really know about him.

Tommy is an army vet, flies helicopters, was a firefighter, and is gay. Which he struggled to come to terms with, and can be a dick. The way y’all treating him like a savior is insane. Y’all are trying to rub it in people’s face that his relationship with Buck is canon while Buddie isn’t, and I don’t understand that. Buck wasn’t even bisexual three episodes ago, so where is this higher than thou attitude even coming from?

The only thing people should be focused on is the fact that Buck is now canonically bisexual. Tim liked the idea and Oliver loved it, so they finally made it happen. Now, his story has even more potential. I’d even go so far as to say season 7 is going to be a cleaning and re-establishing of all the characters, because so many of them feel a little different.

We’ve got bi!Buck, meaning we’ll get to see him in one or more relationships that he isn’t used to being in. We’ve got a new actor playing Harry, and he’s older, meaning they’re going to have to write to his strengths and build a storyline there that is more mature. Bobby and Athena almost died together for real for real, thus hopefully we’ll get to see their relationship evolve and what if it changes them in any way. Chim and Maddie are finally getting married, so we get to see them kickstart a new chapter together. Hen and Karen have a new child, which will hopefully bring them more storylines and hijinks as a family. And Eddie is dealing with forcing himself to accept a relationship he may not even want to be in. And he’s aware this time, which could result in him ignoring his fears or bowing out, then having to face what bowing out means.

Point is, there is no reason for all this drama.

Buddie is not guaranteed just because it is a popular want for fans, and an accepted theory by the actors and showrunner. They’ve all said it has to fit the overall story without forcibly gearing the writing in that direction. Which means it could happen two episodes from now or two seasons from now. We just have to wait and see.

At the same time, Buck and Tommy are not an established couple yet. They’re going on their second date, and it’s been said Tommy isn’t in the last few episodes of the season. So it’s possible he and Buck are still together, but Lou isn’t a series regular nor regular recurring, so he’s just not contracted to be on set. Which is fine, but acting like a quick breakup is also bad storytelling is ridiculous.

Fans have hated Buck’s relationships with women from the jump, and him breaking up fast isn’t exactly new. So if it happens with the first man he dates… okay. Tommy can become more than a stepping stone, but the writers aren’t obligated to make his first experience with a man something deep and profound. It can be fun and eye-opening and still have mattered, even if it ends fast.

Y’all have got to let the stories play out, and not scream bloody murder if your headcanon doesn’t become canon. Because truth be told, Buck being canon bi is the biggest flex of fan service I’ve ever seen, even if I think it adds to the depth of him. So I can’t imagine how difficult it is to be sure not to continue giving that same group of fans everything they want outright, when there’s so much more story to unfold.

Which means they can’t just make Tommy the love of Buck’s life because Buck/Tommy fans have ditched Buddie or were never Buddie shippers, and want to be right. But they also can’t have Eddie come out and he and Buck start dating, because Buddie shippers have waited five seasons. Just wait to see what happens, and in the meantime, enjoy watching Buck discover more of himself. With Tommy as his current love interest, and Eddie as his best friend.

#911 abc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #buddie #bucktommy

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ecoterrorist-katara · 17 hours

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On ur post abt how the promise showed katara flexing her- frankly amazing- diplomatic skills: How do you think they could have handled the Yu Dao story better if they'd ended the show with platonic kata.ang/ future zk endgame in mind??

Just since it's quite an interesting plot to explore, and katara has some good moments, but I think it got drowned by weird (ooc) writing choices. Zuko and Aang get hit by the idiot ball hard. Obviously there's the whole 'promise' drama (as if half the finale wasn't dedicated to aang refusing to kill a firelord under any circumstances), but also kata.ang moments like the Avatar-state talk down + katara's vision; not to mention the bits where they undermine zk's canon friendship (the infamous 'ur hurting me' panel and katara agreeing with /encouraging the promise at all.)

this is a great question and this made me think of one of my favourite ZK fics, Refraction by caroe3725, which has a great re- interpretation of Yu Dao!

I think if Katara was with Zuko even just as a trusted friend, he never would have been going to Ozai, which means the conflict would not have escalated to the extent where Zuko decides to play hardball and Kuei retaliates. Katara would have supported his pov that families shouldn’t be separated, while also being adamant that Earth Kingdom citizens deserve to not be second class citizens in their own home.

the biggest issue with the titular promise is that it puts them all in a situation where they’re fretting about whether to kill their friend, instead of the actual difficult question of how to be fair to the citizens of Yu Dao without forcibly separating families that now don’t belong in either FN or the EK. I imagine Katara still playing a mediator role between Zuko and Aang, but not in a way where she’s like…preventing a brawl. Instead, she would be leading negotiations on how to restructure the town so that the Fire Nation is no longer at the top of the hierarchy. I think it would likely still end with Yu Dao independence, but with a greater emphasis on Katara’s first reaction to Yu Dao (that there’s serious wealth inequality) and how the FN can be responsible for remediating it, probably in the form of reparations for social programs. Certainly that would make it into a boring political comic, but I happen to find that interesting!

#zutara #ATLA comics #can i ask you a question?

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erwinsvow · 3 months

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𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

summary: you were a pogue, and now you're a kook. just like how once you were no one's, and now you're rafe cameron's.

author's note: here it is!!! imagine like s1 rafe with the s2 hair, and basically just having a former-pogue girlfriend through out the whole season. i just think rafe would actually be such a good boyf, he just needs someone to settle him down when he gets a lil crazy. follows the sequence of s1 until about 3/4ths down, where i just started making stuff up. you might read this & think no one would act like this.. and that's fine, i know they wouldn't, but this is a self indulgent story for rafe <3 part 2 of the other seasons maybe? enjoy!!

now spinning: black beauty by lana del rey (soooooo rafe coded! he just needs a hug and some pussy!)

word count: 13.5k

warnings/tags: wheeze is a toddler for no reason. reader isn't the biggest fan of the pogues at this point in time. smut: oral (f receiving), fingering, degregation, use of daddy, rafe calls reader kid because <3, lemme know if i forgot something!

“So that’s it? Really? Your mom is marrying a Kook and you’re moving across the island… just like that?” John B speaks to you as if you had any choice in the matter. You look at him sadly, but you’ve cried so much the last few days, it’s hard to find any more tears.

You want to tell him, want to explain everything. The way your mom has been so lonely for years, ever since your dad passed away. The way she would pull double-shifts every week just to make sure you had the nice, trendy shoes and hot dinner every night. The way you grew up in the cut but it never felt any different than growing up in figure eight, because she took care of you.

And now it was your turn, to take care of her. Blake Richards was rich, and he wanted to take care of your mom, which meant for the first time in a long time, she would be the one being taken care of. And you owed that to her, you owed that much.

“I-I don’t really have a choice, John B. I mean, this is my mom. And she’s getting her chance to be happy. I can’t ruin it for her.”

“Yeah, I get all that but, like, does this mean you’re gonna go full-Kook on us? Because I think that would just be disturbing,” JJ says, and you crack a smile, even as you feel a tear spill down your cheek.

“I don’t think I could ever go full-Kook.” It comes out quietly, a notch above a whisper.

“Hey, hey,” you hear John’s voice again, as he stands up to get closer to you. You feel embarrassed, the way your cheeks flush and heat up when he’s only a few inches away from you. He wipes the tear away with his thumb. “No crying, okay? Nothing has to change.”

The way he says it, you almost believe him.

“Right,” you say, still quiet. There’s a sob stuck behind your throat, and you don’t want the boys to know how upset you really are. You’ve stitched up these boys more times than you can count, set shoulders and bones and nursed bruises for them. “Nothing has to change,” you repeat, trying to convince yourself. Everything was about to change, starting with your relationship with them.

And that’s the one thing you wish could stay the same. Deep down, no matter how many times you were teased and laughed with, there was a part of you, buried away, that thought you would end up with one of these boys one day. Sweet John, funny JJ, smart Pope. Well, maybe not Pope. You’ve seen the way he stares at Kie, even when no one else notices.

But John and JJ, the possibility of being with one of them always lingered in the air. Even when they’re flirting with tourists or cracking so-called boy jokes that you just wouldn’t understand, you always thought they were your endgame.

If only you knew.

Pope and Kiara drive up, just as you’re wiping away another tear. You’re dreading repeating everything to them, shedding more tears.

౨ৎ

“Who is that?” Topper asks, eyeing some girl entering the club. Rafe was getting sick of Topper crying over every pretty girl he saw on the street when he was supposedly dating his sister. He hardly cared about Sarah, daddy’s favorite, but that was his family, and he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect to his family.

“She must be fresh meat,” Kelce says, “I’ve never seen her before.”

“Tourist?” Topper questions. Rafe downs the rest of his drink.

“Nah, man, see that guy ahead of her? That’s Blake Richards. My dad works with him, he’s a big finance guy. He’s a widower, but I guess not anymore.”

“Step-daughter? Jesus,” Topper says. “It’s like a cheesy porno. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he married her mom to tap that, I mean-”

“Enough,” Rafe snaps. “Shouldn’t you be in a fight with my sister?” Topper blanches.

“I mean, look at her Rafe. That is something special,” Kelce says, and then finally, Rafe lifts his head to look at you.

You look… confused. Your head is turning, taking in everything about the club, like you’d never been there before. A waiter comes up to your family with tall glasses of water, little pieces of cucumber and lemon floating around in them with ice cubes. Richards—your step-father—takes a glass and hands it to a woman who can only be your mother, with the same hair and complexion. Before he can take a glass to hand to you, you take it from the tray yourself, smiling and saying thank you. The waiter, some teenage Pogue, blushes at your affection.

When you start walking, continuing the tour, the waiter turns to look at you walk away, gawking like men do when they see something pretty. Rafe feels an overwhelming urge to punch the kid, and cover you up with his jacket.

You’re not in anything too immodest, compared to what he’s seeing girls at the club walking around in, but it feels like it’s too much for the leering eyes that follow you. Your jean skirt comes down a little less than half-way to your thighs. Your shirt is white, with puffy sleeves and little buttons that tighten around the chest.

He sees a glimpse of cleavage, which makes his chest tighten uncomfortably, not in the way he’s used to when he sees a pretty girl. He wants to take his shirt off his back and slide it onto you, buttoning it up all the way and making sure no one else looks at you the way he’s looking at you right now.

“Rafe?” his friend calls, and he’s not sure which one. In your glancing, you turn towards Rafe and you lock eyes for a second. You must have noticed him staring. You probably think he’s crazy, but he doesn’t seem to care much at the moment. Your mother must have beckoned you, because you turn away in a second, walking towards the older couple, trailing behind them again.

“Be right back,” he says, leaving a confused Topper and Kelce behind him at the table. He cuts through the tables near the bar, entering the walkway where your family is already, but coming out of the other end. He gets there just in time to run into Richards, who’s leading the little group.

“Hi, Mr. Richards, right?” he says, holding his hand out. “Rafe Cameron.”

“Oh, Rafe, hi,” the older man replies, shaking his hand. Rafe grips hard, making sure Richards doesn’t think he has a wimpy handshake. Otherwise he’s never gonna agree to what Rafe has in mind. “I haven’t seen you in years, I mean you were half your height last time I was over at Tannyhill.”

“Crazy, right? Well I just wanted to say hi since I ran into you. How’s, uh Benny and Brax?”

“I can’t believe you remember them, they haven’t been to Kildare in years. They’re good, yeah, Benny’s in California now, and Brax is out at law school, at Oxford.”

“Oh yeah, international law, right?”

“Yeah,” Richards says, smiling wide. “You’ve got quite a memory, son, I’ll have to tell Rafe when I see him.”

“Oh yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” Then, he makes his move. He turns his gaze to your mom first. He thinks about it briefly, but if he addresses you before her, your mom will be on guard. He knows how their minds work. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, I’m Rafe,” and he shakes your mom’s hand, but turns back to Richards for the introduction—something else in his little cheat-sheet of rules. Let dad do the talking, so he feels like he’s in control.

“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”

“Nice to meet you, Rafe,” your mom smiles at him sweetly, and he smiles back.

“-and my step-daughter.” You smile, and hold your hand out. He shakes your hand, gently, and looks at your face, because he can tell the smile is forced. He wonders why.

“Nice to meet you.” he says, and you smile that forced way again.

“You too, Rafe.” You let go of his hand, and it’s good, because if he held on any longer, the adults would get suspicious.

“First time here?” he questions, still looking at you.

“Yes,” your mother answers, laughing, if not a little uncomfortably. “Is it that obvious?”

“Nah, it’s a lot to take in, I remember that much.” Richards smiles at him, almost beaming. He knows Rafe has been coming here since he could walk. That means the old man appreciates him trying to comfort his new family. Another step closer.

“It is,” Anna says, looking at her daughter. She has those worried eyes, the one Ward’s new wife won’t stop looking at him with.

“Well, it’s the perfect place to be all summer. I mean, pretty much everyone our age is at the pool or the courts.” At his mention of the both of you, you look up from staring at your shoes quickly to looking right at him. He smiles. You don’t smile back.

“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.

“I mean yeah, Mister R, I remember Benny on the golf course, like, everyday. And Brax, I mean he practically taught half of us how to swim.” Richards nods and laughs, continuing small talk about his sons. Rafe sneaks another glance at you, and you look back knowingly, like you can smell his intentions from a mile away.

“Honey?” your mom asks quietly. “Do you wanna go with Rafe?”

“What?” you reply quickly, surprised. You weren’t listening, and he tries hard not to laugh.

“Well, I can take you ‘round, introduce you to everyone. I’ll finish the tour if you and Mrs. Richards are heading up to the course?” He nods at the golf clothes your parents have on, that you are lacking.

“I think that sounds great, right, honey?” Anna presses, and after you lock eyes with her, you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, sure,” you say quietly. Rafe smiles again.

“Great, great, yeah. Well, it was great to see you Mister R. Missus R.”

“Thank you, Rafe. Kiddo, you can ask for the car to go home when you’re ready, okay? Your mother and I are going to get dinner here.” Anna looks up confused, probably wondering how they’ll get back.

“I’ll call someone to bring the car back, honey,” he explains, and your mom smiles.

“I can also take her back,” Rafe interjects. “Tannyhill is the same direction, and I’m headed back anyways. If you wanna leave the car here.”

“Really, Rafe, that would be great, thank you.” You look even angrier than before, but the plastic smile spread over your face doesn’t faze them.

“Right, thanks, Blake. Bye mom,” you say, and then lean over to kiss her on the cheek.

You watch them walk away, chewing your cheek and turning back to Rafe with anger splashed all over your pretty features.

“I can’t believe that worked on them,” you tell him quietly, smiling when your mom turns back to look at you before they turn the corner. Your parents were too gullible sometimes.

“Yeah, me either, kid.”

“Don’t call me that,” you reply right away. “And despite what you think, I’m not touring this place with you. I’m probably never coming back here after today.” You start walking away, in the opposite direction of your parents, when he chases behind you.

“Y’know, I don’t get you. Every girl your age lounges around here all day, and everyone else wishes they could.”

“Well, you know what they say,” you start, smiling sweetly, though he sees through it again. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

“Really?” he shrugs. “Never heard that before.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.”

“Come on, you’re not even giving me a chance. You don’t even know me.” You laugh at that.

“Yes, I do, Rafe, you just don’t recognize me.” You continue your brisk pace, looking for the exit and getting closer. He reaches out to grab your forearm, holding you back for a second. He guides you into the corner, between the hallway where there’s no one else around.

“Yeah, that so?” Rafe is almost caging you in. He’s so close you can smell his cologne and the scotch on his lips.

“I’m from Kildare, Rafe.” You try to break free of his grip, but it proves even harder than you thought. He holds you in place without even breaking a sweat.

“No, no, no, because I know every pretty girl in Kildare. And you’ve definitely never been here before, so-”

“Really? Even the ones from the cut?” You thought that would be enough to get him to drop your arm, but he doesn’t budge.

“Huh. So that’s why you’ve never been here. Old Man Richards married a Pogue and made her daughter into a Kook? Did I get that right?”

“I’m not a Kook,” you say, squirming, because you still don’t want to be trapped by him. His cologne smells good, your mind wanders and thinks, like ocean air and sandalwood. You snap out of it at once.

“Not yet, you’re not.”

“I’m not going to be, either. A little money isn’t going to change anything for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, kid. That’s what everyone says, ‘til it does.”

“Rafe, let go of me, I said let go-” And he does let go, quickly, and your arm falls. Faint red marks appeared when he was holding on, what can only be a bruise tomorrow. He’s marked you, and you’re not half as angry as you would have thought.

“Come on, kid, we’re finishing this tour. I promised,” he says, and the last bit is so mocking, you can’t believe mom and Blake fell for his act.

He takes you around the entire club, shows you the restaurants, the spa, the pool. At least a handful of girls stare at the two of you walking side by side, but Rafe doesn’t look back at anyone. You don’t know how to feel about that.

The oldest Cameron isn’t a mystery to anyone in Kildare, but you don’t know anything about him besides what the boys have told you. JJ hates him, naturally, John doesn’t let you look at him in passing, and even Pope can find a few bad things to say. But right now, he’s not doing any of those things you would have expected once he found out you and your mom are from the other side of the island. The crude jokes and gold-digger comments are nowhere to be heard.

But you can’t write him off completely yet. After all, this is Rafe Cameron.

He finishes the tour on the golf course, so you can wave to your parents on the course. You’re sipping on a lemonade through a little pink straw, and he finds it hard to look away when your cheeks hollow to draw up the liquid. Your mom and Blake wave back, and you smile—genuinely—for maybe the third time that morning.

“They’re good together,” Rafe comments, on the walk back to the front door, where his truck is waiting.

“Do you really think that?” you ask quietly. You’re tired, he can tell, drained from trying so hard to make sure he knows you hate him.

“Yeah, kid, I do. He’s been a widower basically my whole life. And he married your mom, so he must really love her.”

You can’t tell if he’s just saying it to get on your good side. You hope he’s not. Through all of this, all the crying and the suffering and how much you miss your old life and your friends, if your mom doesn’t at least end up happy, it’ll all have been for nothing. You feel more tears brewing.

“Thanks, Rafe,” you end up saying quietly, as you put on the seat belt in the passenger seat of his truck. His music plays softly in the background of the drive - rap, something you've heard before but can't place - back to Blake’s house. With your window down, you stare out of it and try to pay attention to the breeze in your hair rather than the entirely overwhelming scent of Rafe, which is all-consuming in his car.

Rafe turns to look at you every few minutes. You look perfectly in place in his car, leaning against the panel with your eyes closed. That means you trust him, even though every word you say makes him think otherwise.

Your eyes flutter open when he puts the car in park, outside the door to your house.

“Home sweet home, kid,” you hear his voice in your ear, but he sounds closer than he should be. When you turn to look, he’s leaning over you and so close to you, you feel the heat radiating from his body.

“What’re you doing?” you ask quickly, heartbeat picking up and rocketing off.

“M’just getting the door for you, kid.” His arm flexes, only an inch or two away from your chest, pulling the handle and swinging open the door. He leans back into his seat, smirking. “Why, what'd ya think I was gonna do?”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and swallow uncomfortably. Your throat feels dry and your palms are suddenly clammy.

“Nothing.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

You climb out of his car, shoes hitting the ground a little too hard. He strains his neck, trying to make sure you’re okay.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, not meeting his eyes, closing the door behind you.

“Anytime, kid. I’ll be seeing you around.”

You thought he would take over the second the passenger-side door was shut, but he doesn’t. He stays and watches you fix your skirt that had ridden-up on the drive, and walk into the front door, glancing behind you, just for a second, before going inside. And then you hear the roar of the engine, only after the door was closed and you were safely inside.

౨ৎ

You didn’t take it literally, that you would be seeing him again. Rafe seems like the type to play with his toys and get bored before long, but true to his word, you see him days later. And to his luck, you were feeling even worse than the first time you met him.

The morning started like any other—showering in a bathroom that’s just yours, and no one else’s, and attached to your bedroom. You can hardly remember the years when your dad was alive, but after he passed, you and your mom moved into a tiny two-bed, one-bath with your mom’s best friend. You were there for the next five years, until she got married and moved out, and it was just the two of you. But even in all the years since, you’ve never had your own bathroom until now.

You shower as long as you want, whenever you want. Your room is in a completely different hallway than the master, where Blake and your mom sleep. You blast music at night, singing along off-tune from the bathroom, and would stay on the phone for hours with your friends. If anyone answered your calls anymore.

It’s been three weeks since you broke the news to everyone that you were moving. Two weeks since you actually moved. One week since Rafe walked you around the country club and drove you back home, like you belonged to him. In that time, you’ve driven down to the Chateau twice, walked by Kie’s house, which is now just a few blocks away, and texted multiple times—all with no responses. At first you panic, thinking something’s happened, but then you realize this was what always happened. When you’re off on an adventure, you don’t think about who’s waiting for you back at home.

That’s what’s running through your mind when you run into Rafe again that day.

You had showered without interruption, taking your time doing your hair up just because you felt like it. There was no work to be done, no chores assigned to you anymore. Breakfast was always prepared when you went downstairs, so you took your time getting ready now.

You missed a lot of things about your old life, but the limited time and constant rushing and anxiety were not among them.

Your clothes were picked out with the anticipation of seeing your best friends again, your favorite overalls from the thrift store—which had been bought when you were still two sizes too small for them, and had been baggy on you until last year, but they were such a steal your mother refused to let you put them back—and a yellow shirt to match your ratty, yellow converse. They had been washed so many times they were more brown than yellow, but it didn’t matter much.

This outfit was the old you, and it brought up feelings inside you that nothing in figure eight could change. You wore it because you wouldn’t look any different to your friends in this outfit, and for maybe a few hours, you wouldn’t be the girl in the fancy house with the country club membership anymore.

“You look nice, sweetie,” your mom says, when you head downstairs. She’s drinking her coffee at the table, your step-dad nowhere to be found. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s just woken up too, in her robe and slippers, and you smile, watching her more relaxed than you’ve seen in years.

You swing by her side of the table to give her a kiss, and steal a piece of toast from her plate. You’re relieved she doesn’t mention your clothes, not when she keeps offering to take you shopping with Blake’s money, which you keep refusing, but is getting more tempting every time you step in a puddle in these shoes.

“Thanks mom, I’m going to see the boys and Kie, I’ll be back later, don’t wait up!” and with that you’re gone, before you can discern the disapproving look in her eyes.

Your junky old car, older than you by several years and still somehow the nicest thing you own—used to own, a voice chirps in the back of your head—is hidden around several fancy cars in the driveway. It’s intentional, you’re sure, and likely your mother’s doing. Nothing embarrassed her more than you handing out constant reminders of your old life to everyone around you.

And then you’re on the way to the Chateau, windows down and no music, since there was no way to connect your phone and the radio was busted by Pope a year ago, who claims he was trying to fix it.

But it’s what happens when you get there that embarasses you the most—no one’s there, and no one will answer your call. You wait around for a half hour, trying to see if they come back, but they don’t.

And that’s when it hits you. They were off on their adventures, and you weren’t just down the street anymore, which meant you weren’t invited. You get back in your car and slam the door, humiliated, tears falling down your face and probably ruining the makeup you had done, stupidly, this morning, because you wanted to look nice for them, like your old self for them. You don’t realize until later, after you were done crying, and seen Rafe again, that your friends didn’t want to bother you while you were adjusting to your new life.

You feel betrayed, and the words that John had told you rattle through your head, because he was wrong. Everything had changed, and nothing would be the same.

You take off, heading back home. There’s a big storm brewing and your Accord gets dramatic in the rain. It’s not until you cross the border back into figure eight that you realize two things. One, that you had just thought of your new house as home for the first time. And two, that you had never felt more alone.

There’s not much to do about either of these feelings, besides stopping for the biggest bowl of ice cream you can reasonably carry back home, and eating it in your room, crying and watching You’ve Got Mail for the hundredth time.

So that’s what you do, pulling into the ice cream shop closest to home. Your car also doesn’t have the greatest functioning air conditioner, and you don’t need any more questionable stains in your seats, considering how many times JJ had borrowed it and returned it, promising you it’s nothing and that that spot in the back seat was always there!

In line, tapping your foot, calling your mom’s cell. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red from crying. She’s not answering, but the unspoken rule of your little family is to always, always call when you’re getting ice cream in case the other wants something. You’ve only been gone something like two hours, and you can’t imagine what she’s doing that she can’t answer your phone. You dial Blake’s number, hoping he answers instead, and while it’s ringing you realize it’s your turn to order. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet.

You turn to the people behind you, telling them they can go in front, but when you look up from your phone, you almost drop it.

Of course it’s Rafe Cameron behind you. Of course. Who else would it be? Who else would keep catching you at your lowest moments? He’s with a little girl, who can’t be older than four or five, with dark hair and glasses, holding his hand patiently while staring up at you, while you stare at him and he stares back.

“Rafe, she said we can go in front,” she says, tugging on the hand she’s holding.

“Yeah, Wheeze, I heard. Let’s go order and then thank this nice girl for letting us go ahead, right?” The little girl nods, and follows him up to order. Rafe looks back at you but then your step-dad answers, so you turn away, cheeks heating up. You don’t want him to see.

“Hi, what’s going on?” you hear his voice through the phone, sort of staticky and jumbled.

“Hi, Blake, I just wanted to ask if you and mom wanted ice cream? I’m at the place… yeah, the one near the house.”

“Oh, yes, let me ask her, one second-” You hear him put the phone down, or cover the mic, and then, “Honey! Kiddo’s asking if you want ice cream.”

You feel yourself soften a little bit at the nickname. And then you hear your mom and Blake talking back and forth, for what feels like ages. The girl behind the counter looks at you with a glare and you try to look back at her with an apologetic smile, but you’re a little fed-up from the emotional turmoil you’ve just endured.

“Hi, sweetie, I’m okay, I had some at the club with lunch and twice in a day is just not a good idea-”

“Just get it, who cares? We can have it later tonight too-”

“What if the power goes out? It’ll melt, and then it’s just a waste of money-” Crap. You hadn’t thought of that.

“We have generators for that.” Blake picks up the phone again. “Hey, kiddo, get your mom her usual and make sure you use the card I gave you, okay?”

You hang up the phone, smiling, and then order. It feels weird, being oddly comforted by someone other than your mom or your friends for once. In your distraction, you don’t see Rafe and the little girl hovering near the freezer window that showcases all the ice cream they offer. When you’re reaching for the shiny black Amex, you hear him again.

“I got it, kid,” Rafe says, pressing his matching card against the reader and pushing your wrist down and away. He does it so easily, without trying, just like he did in the country club. You look up at him stupidly, brain not registering what he just did and why he did it, and you don’t move for a moment. You don’t move until he leans down a little, close enough to smell that enticing cologne again but not nearly close enough.

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’. And you should probably get out of the way.” You blink back up at him, and he’s smirking again. You feel kind of stupid, the way he’s talking to you, but you also don’t mind as much as you thought you would. The girl behind the counter yells out Next! and that’s when Rafe takes you by the arm, just above where he had bruised you, and moves you away himself.

“You okay, kid?” he asks, and you feel yourself melt like ice cream left in your car for too long. You don’t know if he really means it, or if he really cares, but you do know Rafe Cameron needs to stop talking to you like he likes you, or you’re going to be in trouble.

“Fine, yeah. Thanks, uh, thanks for the ice cream.” You’re still blinking slowly, stupidly, stuck in a daze. You should really get it together around him. It’s a little pathetic if a strong grip and a couple of nice actions gets you acting like this. That’s a problem for another day right now.

“Is she okay, Rafe?” the little girl asks quietly from beside him.

“No idea, Wheezie. Why don’t you sit and eat your ice cream?” he replies, and she sits down a few tables away, beginning to shovel chocolate ice cream with a tiny wooden spoon.

“Hey,” he says, and you begin to snap out of it. It’s raining outside now. You hear the pitter-patter of the drops on the roof. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yes. I am. I just had a bad morning. Sorry.” But you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.

“Well, are you gonna talk about it and shit? ‘Cause I don’t know you that well yet but you’re kinda freaking me out right now.”

“I-I…I just-”

“You, you, you just?” he mocks, and then when tears fill your pretty eyes and he sees one slip down your face, his own eyes panic briefly. “Hey, hey, I was just joking, kid-” He pulls out a colorful chair for you, and sits you down next to Wheezie, who is still eating ice cream at an alarming rate. Your ice cream is ready at the counter, and he brings it down next to you, holding his own strawberry cone in his hand.

“Hold this for me Wheeze,” he says, not really asking, and the little girl shakes her head right away.

“How’m I gonna eat mine then?”

“Wheezie,” Rafe says, in a voice that you haven’t heard him use before—and then you realize how stupid you sound. You’ve talked with him twice, you don’t know anything about the voices he uses or how he sounds when he’s talking to this girl who can only be his little sister.

“Can I have some?” Wheezie propositions back, and Rafe nods. “Okay!” she says, taking a bite of the scoop with her front teeth.

“So, y’gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess everything?”

“My friends, I just keep missing them, or they keep missing me, maybe. I just wanted to see them. It’s really lonely here, that’s all.” You’re staring into his eyes, his really, really blue eyes that are currently a little alarmed and concerned, and the fact that they’re that way for you is making you a little dizzy.

“Yeah, I get that. Sorry, kid, that’s the lay of the land, right? Not a Pogue anymore, are you?”

“I don’t know what I am.” You feel silly and embarrassed for pouring your heart out over ice cream with Rafe Cameron. He doesn’t know you, and he never will.

“Well, right now you have a choice. You can sit here and eat ice cream with us, or you can go home and cry about it alone. But if you choose the second one, Richards and Anna will see you, or hear you, and ask about it. And I’m not gonna keep asking if you don’t wanna talk. So pick one before this shi-stuff melts, okay?”

You nod dumbly again. You’d like to turn your brain off and let Rafe decide for you.

“I need a spoon.” He smiles, not smirks, for a second, before getting up to get you a spoon.

A few things float through your mind while you eat ice cream with the Camerons. First, Rafe remembers your mom’s name. Second, Rafe doesn’t swear in front of his kid sister. And third, and most important of all, Rafe Cameron cares about you.

“That’s a lot of ice cream,” Wheeze, or rather—as you’ve just learned—Wheezie, comments.

“I was feeling really sad,” you reply, shoving another spoonful into your mouth, watching the little girl eye your peanut and chocolate ice cream inquisitively. “You’ll understand someday.”

“Boy problems?” she asks, and you can’t help but crack a smile. Rafe looks up from his phone momentarily

“Not really, but a good guess. This would also apply to that situation.”

“My sister’s always got boy problems.”

“Really?” you ask, and then look up Rafe. “You have another sister?”

“Yes,” he says, in between licks of strawberry ice cream. You should really look away when he does that, because your heart rate is picking up. “And she’s even more annoying than this one.”

You laugh while Wheezie frowns.

“If I’m so annoying, why do you always take me for ice cream, huh?”

“She’s got you there, Rafe,” and you resist the urge to look at him, even when you can feel his eyes on you.

“Because you wouldn’t stop asking, dork, that’s why.” Wheezie shrugs in reply.

“I’m not gonna finish all of this. You want some, Wheezie?” you ask, offering her your spoon. She looks back at you smiling, and then at Rafe for permission, who nods.

She digs into the pile left, while you finally give into the urge to look up at her brother again. He takes another lick of his ice cream and you look away within a second.

“Been eating that for a while, haven’t you, Rafe?”

“Yeah.”

Somewhere in between Wheezie eating so much of the ice cream so quickly that she gets a brain freeze, and Rafe finally tossing his half-eaten cone into the trash, it’s time to go home. And as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t want to leave. The rain is coming down hard outside, a preview of the impending hurricane.

“Drive here, kid?” he asks, as your feet hesitate by the door.

“No,” Wheezie answers, “I came here with you, dork.”

“Not talking to you, kid,” he replies, rustling the top of her hair with his hand, getting an ugh, Rafe, in response.

“Yeah. Yes, I drove here. But my car doesn’t do so good in the rain.”

“Huh?” he questions.

“It’s old, okay. Junky. The AC is broken. And the radio. Sometimes she just stops, y’know?” You gesture to your blue car parked out front, the rusty, tiny sedan two spots down from his shiny truck.

“No, I don’t know. Richards lets you drive around in that thing?”

“She.”

“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”

“She has a name, okay. HoHo. That’s her name.”

“Alright, well, you’re gonna have to ditch the hoe, because I can’t let you drive home in a hurricane in… that.” You turn to glare at him. “Her, sorry.”

That’s how you end up soaking wet in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, Wheezie secured in her booster seat and Rafe even wetter than you are. He drops you home and says the two of you can go pick up your car tomorrow—if it’s still there, he adds at the end, leaning over you again to open your door. You stare at him dumbly again, which has now become a bad habit, and it’s not until Wheezie says you’re getting her wet in the back that you finally climb out and close the door. You stand behind the front door with your mom’s melted ice cream in one hand, and your phone with Rafe’s contact saved in the other, wondering what exactly just happened.

౨ৎ

The next few weeks pass through as quickly as they came. Your car—to your chagrin and your mother’s joy—does not survive the hurricane. Blake gives you a fancy, luxury car to drive around in that he just had laying around, which you don’t believe for one second. But, your mom is pleased when you actually start driving it, and you can actually listen to music from your phone and enjoy air conditioning and the most luxurious of luxuries—a backup camera.

The night of the ice cream shop incident, Rafe texts you. You were completely ready to wallow in bed, waiting for the text from him that never comes, drowning your sorrow in more ice cream, but he does text you. First and right away.

R: Is it wrong if I hope hoho drowns tonight?

that’s so mean. she never did anything to you.

R: She’s kinda ugly. And what was that about no ac?

so she deserves death????

R: The impound lot at the very least

if she dies, it’ll be because YOU manifested it

R: Never thought I’d believe in that manifesting shit, but here we are

did Wheezie eat dinner after how much ice cream you let her inhale?

R: No.

R: Ur fault. You gave her yours

you gave her yours too

and btw, I offered her a bite. she ate the rest. not my fault

R: She’s five, genius

R: I’ll come around noon tomorrow. Sleep tight kid

౨ৎ

Somewhere in between picking up your car—which entailed no less than stopping for lunch, even more ice cream that you can’t stand to watch him eat, and driving through town to see how bad the damage from hurricane Agatha was, and altogether three hours together ending with a wet, heated kiss in his truck with the windows fogged up—and today, you’ve been with Rafe more times than you can count.

And you try hard to suppress the thought that it’s just because he’s available, that the availability is the reason for your attraction. And then you catch yourself trying to justify why you want to see Rafe so much, this guy that you had just been assuming was bad because your friends told you he was bad, without much in the way of an explanation.

But Rafe is the furthest thing from bad. He’s so sweet to you it makes you delirious. He picks you up all the time, even when you tell him you’re just at home, and your car is right there. He pays for everything, he opens every door, the gentle but teasing way he is with Wheezie makes you even more head over heels.

But most important of all, he calls you first. He texts you first. He makes you feel wanted, and you definitely, definitely, want him, so you don’t think twice before saying yes to accompanying him to Midsummers.

You actually don’t know what it really is, besides for a big party. It was always one of the worst nights at the hospital—litters of teens with alcohol poisoning and from car accidents— so your mom would be working. When you turned eighteen, your mom paid for classes to become a junior nurse, and so busy nights like the one of Midsummers usually was, you would get called in too. So before this week, you’d never spent Midsummers doing anything other than cleaning wounds and fetching suture kits.

You tell Rafe this and he looks at you strangely, another of his looks you hadn’t seen before, with furrowed brows, and you flush and apologize, regretting even opening your mouth.

You know you’re deeper than you thought when he takes your head between his hands and kisses you—messy, with tongue and spit left glimmering over your mouth, so much so that he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb when he’s done.

“Go get yourself a pretty dress, and we’ll have fun, yeah?” You nod stupidly again, the way you’re prone to doing around him. He must have realized you get a kick out being told what to do by him, what to worry about and what to focus on.

You finally take your mom up on the offer to go shopping. Her and your step-dad are going to this thing anyways, but you can tell she wasn’t completely sure you’d go to something so Kook-y, maybe not just yet, and she doesn’t want to push it since your mood finally seems to have picked up. But then you tell her Rafe asked you to go with him, and the two of you smile and jump around the living room, laughing like kids. She’s happy for you and you’re happy that the two of you are happy at the same time.

Rafe sends you money for a dress—enough money to pay for a month’s rent at your old place. Your mom says your step-dad insists on paying. You feel like things are coming together for the first time.

You wander the stores, trying on different dresses and feeling like a scene out of a movie until you finally find the perfect blue dress. Blue for Rafe’s eyes and his suit jacket, because you’re not embarrassed to admit to him that you want to match for Midsummers. It’s patterned with little flowers, ruffles and lace moving in the wind when you twirl, and for once, you stop feeling like you need to pick a side to be on—Pogue or Kook—and you decide just to be Rafe’s for now.

The night of the party, Rafe offers to pick you up, but you tell him you’ll come with your parents. They’re both wearing shades of peach and salmon, the three of you together look like you’re headed to a baby shower, which you and your mom laugh about in the car ride there.

You text Rafe to let him know you’re there, and tell your parents you’re going to walk around to find him. When you glance back, they’re talking with some of Blake’s friends, people he had invited to the wedding.

You see, what you can only think, is a glimpse of Pope, in his usual waiter get up, but he disappears before you can see where he was. His father is still there, though, and you make your way through the crowd to get near him.

“Hi, Mr. Heyward,” you say, smiling and unsure if he’ll recognize you. You don’t think he’s ever seen you in anything but your overalls or scrubs.

“How can I help yo-wait, is that you, well I’ll be damned. You’re blending right in, aren’t ya?”

“Well, it took long enough.” You suddenly feel embarrassed, because he knows the old you, the one who wouldn’t be here in a million years. “Do you know where Pope is? I thought I saw him, I just wanted to say hi.”

“He just went off that way, but if you see him, tell him I still need his help over here, just like I did before he walked away—”

“Can I help with anything?” you ask quickly, but he shakes his head and tells you the direction Pope went in.

You follow it generally, trying to see where he could have gone in such a short time. But then you see all of them, and you can’t stop your feet from running over. Kie, JJ, and Pope, all standing and talking about something, but you don’t really care about interrupting. Kie’s all dressed up too, and you suddenly don’t feel so embarrassed.

“You guys,” you feel yourself gushing. “It’s been so long,” and you go in for a hug with each of them.

“Wow, god, you look so pretty,” Kie says, and you hug her again. You don’t realize how much you missed her.

“You too, Kie,” your smile is so wide it starts to hurt. “Isn’t this so weird, all of us here at this party? Where’s John B?” you ask, looking around.

“So weird,” JJ says, and you notice the bruise around his right eye because he’s turning to look at Kie again.

“JJ, what the hell happened to your face?” JJ doesn’t answer, he actually doesn’t say anything at all, which should have been your first sign that something was wrong. You look at him quizzically, before turning to Pope.

“Pope, your dad’s looking for you, I just went over to say hi-”

“Oh crap,” he says, heading back in the direction you just came from. “Sorry, be right back.”

“W-what the hell is going on?” you question Kie and JJ, searching for any answer, desperately hoping that it isn’t we don’t wanna tell you. Your phone goes off, twice, and you pick it up. The look on your face must have been beyond palpable to your friends.

R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house

R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you

“I-I gotta go inside,” you say, looking at the confused faces of your friends.

“What’s inside? I thought-”

“No, nothing, I don’t know, Rafe just asked me to go inside, and I haven’t even seen him yet-”

“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”

“Y-yeah?”

“What are you, with him, or something?” JJ asks, and you feel your heart fall into your stomach.

“I-I yeah, maybe. I’m here with him tonight, he-” Your phone goes off again. “I’m sorry, I have to go find him, but I’ll come find you guys right after, okay?”

You leave the two of them there, looking at each other confused, looking at you like they don’t recognize you. And it stings, for a moment, until you get inside the mansion and find Rafe hanging out by the entrance, nursing a glass of scotch and eyes lighting up when they see you.

Everything with him is like that scene from that movie. Lights go dim, you walk in slow-motion, the room goes quiet. He watches you walk up to him and his eyes take in everything—your pretty hair, your dolled up face, the way your dress moves when you walk, and most of all, that you’re here with him. He reaches his hand out to grab you by the waist to bring you in for a kiss. It’s not like the others, it’s chaste and soft and romantic.

“Hi,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his.

“Hi, kid. You look fantastic,” and he presses another sweet kiss to your temple.

“We’re matching,” you say with a smile, taking in his blue suit jacket and the way you feel dizzy right now, and you feel his grip tighten around your waist.

“Yeah, we are. Now get in line with me, we’re walking out together.” Your eyes are big like coins, because you understood that you were coming here together, but this is his family’s big night, if everything your mom and Blake told you was to be taken seriously.

You don’t have time to say anything, because Rafe’s nice parents line up ahead of you, and his two sisters behind you. Wheezie tugs on your dress and you turn to greet her and Sarah quickly, because then the doors open and you’re walking out, following Rafe’s lead, lots and lots of eyes on you, but only one pair of blue ones you really care about.

You almost want to cry, the whole thing is so magical. You have a flute of champagne and a sip of Rafe’s scotch, and you are deliciously tipsy for the next two hours. Your parents come over to talk to you and Rafe, and you can see how happy your mom is in her eyes. You and Rafe dance until your feet hurt, and it’s only then, when he leaves your sight, that things seem to get back down to how they normally are.

You can’t find Wheezie’s parents or Sarah anywhere. The little girl spilled ice cream on her dress and is crying quietly, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. You want to get her parents, because you think they can help, but you end up taking her to the bathroom yourself. With a damp paper towel, you wipe as much as you can, and you promise to get her another ice cream if she stops crying.

“It’s just a stain, honey, don’t worry.” You toss the dirty tissue and grab another one, wiping the tears and then letting her blow her nose. “It’ll come out when you wash it. And no one will notice because it’s so dark now, right?” She nods in agreement. “Do you wanna go find your big brother?” Another sad nod. “Let’s go honey,” and you take her hand and lead her back out.

You’re not entirely sure what you missed in the last fifteen minutes. Everyone’s gone quiet, staring at what you hope is a trick of your eyes—all of your friends running from the party, hooting and hollering. Kiara’s parents look hopelessly upset, Mr. Heyward downright disappointed, and your mom scanning the crowd, trying to see where you are, until she spots you and Wheezie.

Her and Mrs. Cameron come running over, and you instinctively flinch, thinking the giant headpiece she’s wearing will poke you. You hand off Wheezie and turn to look at your friends, and you think, for a second, they’re waiting for you. They are, you realize slowly, waiting for you.

And you almost take off right then and there, until you feel Rafe’s warm hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see him bleeding.

At that moment, you turn right back around and head inside to the nearest room, sitting Rafe down on the bed and scrambling to find something to clean his wound with, and something cold to help the swelling, and in your panic, you don’t realize you’re rambling.

“I mean, what the hell was all of that? I turn around for two seconds and everyone’s running from the party like there’s a fire, and destroying things and throwing punches, I mean, I get they hate the whole Kook thing, but it was never like this before, even when I didn’t know you yet, and I-” you drop the frozen bag of peas onto the floor in your sudden realization. “I just let them leave. They waited for me. I didn’t go with them.” Your eyes fill with years. That’s a betrayal, not all the stupid stuff you thought was happening before tonight. They waited for you, and you turned right back around to go inside with Rafe.

“Hey, hey hey,” Rafe says quietly, taking your head in his hands again. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“You’re bleeding, Rafe,” you say, voice trembling. Your tears are ruining your makeup.

“I’m gonna be fine. You know why?” he asks, and you feel more tears rush down. “Hey, hey, no crying.” Rafe wipes away the tears with his hand, then he brings his hands to your back and rubs soothingly. “You know why, kid?” “Why?” it comes out a whisper.

“Because you chose me. We’re gonna be fine, okay?”

The way he says it you believe him.

You spend the next two days at Tannyhill with Rafe, wearing nothing but his t-shirts and doing nothing but rolling around in bed. It’s been a month, maybe a little bit more, and you haven’t even had the talk yet—the sex talk. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not ready for it, but you’re not ready for it, not yet. You’re working on it. He doesn’t make it easy for you, either. You’ve spent hours now, making out in his lap, grinding against each other until you make a mess all over his shorts and his hair is sticking up in every direction, and working your way up to telling him what you want.

You’re almost there. You’re waiting for the perfect time. Which was almost right now.

“You like that? Shit-” he breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender skin of your neck right underneath. It makes you moan again, louder, until he clamps a hand—the one not three fingers deep inside your leaking pussy—over your mouth, barricading the noise from leaving. “Gotta be quiet, kid, you want the whole house hearin’ what a little slut you are?”

His blue eyes, lustful and blown, stare into your own. You shake your head softly underneath the tight grip of his palm. You’re always obedient with him, but he really likes you like this.

“Yeah? You gonna do whatever daddy tells you? Just so I keep my fingers in this tight pussy?” You nod compliantly, head falling back on to the pillow. His fingers are thick, and the cool of his ring rubs against your clit in the best way, in ways you didn’t even realize it could feel.

He keeps fucking three fingers in and out of you, moans muffled by his hand but not completely silenced. You must be making a mess, because it’s what he keeps talking about, rambling about your messy cunt, greedy and sucking him in, and how you’ve been cumming for him like a little princess for the last two days, but it’s never enough for you.

It’s when he removes his hand and kisses you hard instead, tongue deep inside you mouth, the metal of his chain dangling on your chin, and you feel the similarly cool metal of his ring on you, you finish again, exploding around your boyfriend’s fingers and moaning into his mouth. He hears you, repeating his name over and over again, not Rafe, but rather daddy, and he swallows your chants into his mouth. When you calm down, he makes a show of licking his fingers off while locking eyes, and then you get flustered and bury your head into his neck.

He laughs, because it’s so cute, but only for a minute. Then you two shower together and he makes another show, but this time out of you, kneeling on the floor of his tub while he paints your face with his cum, making sure to cover the necklace you’ve been wearing recently too, the silver, loopy little R hanging between your collarbone.

Then you get dressed—a little pink dress that’s been his favorite recently, with buttons down the front and a pretty bow where your tits sit— and the two of you have lunch with his family like nothing ever happened.

Rafe drops you back at home later that day, gives you a kiss where he grabs the back of your head to bring you in, and then waves bye to your parents as he unlatches the door for you, in his usual way.

౨ৎ

A week later, he does the same thing. Drops you off, drives away once you’re inside, and you’re starstruck walking back, so much so, you don’t realize there’s someone waiting for you.

It’s Kie, and Rafe’s sister, Sarah. You’re a little confused since you thought the two of them didn’t get

along, but they look like they’re fine now.

“Hey, listen, we need you to help us. Can you come down to the Chateau later tonight, after sunset?” Kie asks, and you must look as confused as you feel, because Sarah speaks right away, before you can get a word out.

“You cannot tell my brother. Promise us you won’t.”

“Why are you asking me that? Why can’t I tell him?” Sarah and Kie exchange a look, and it’s clear to you that you are missing several pieces of the puzzle. “Guys! Come on, you-you can’t expect me to just be on board with lying to my boyfriend and showing up to help you guys without knowing what it even is, right? What’s going on?”

“We will explain everything, just please promise us that you’ll come,” Kie implores and you nod hesitantly.

“And you won’t tell Rafe?” Sarah asks again.

“Come on. Pogues for life, right?” Kie says, and you get a flashback to your life two months

ago—doing anything for your friends and dreaming of how you’d end up with one of the boys someday. It all seems like a million years ago.

“Yes, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. I won’t tell him.”

You guess that God was on your side today.

R🧸ྀི: Hey kid. Busy with my dad today. Dinner tomorrow okay?

sounds perfect!! don’t work too hard! i'm gonna watch a movie with my mom and blake and stay in tn

R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?

you know me so well

R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.

You set down your phone on your dresser, feeling like you could throw up your dinner. It’s just starting to get dark outside, and you’ve just lied to Rafe for the first time since you’ve met him. It feels terrible, like something’s gnawing inside you, begging you to come clean and confess, or not to go out at all. You think about it for a moment, maybe if he knows you’re with some of your old friends, it won’t be like a real lie.

Then you remember your old friends are the ones who punched him. You tell your mom you’re going to Rafe’s, and then you get in your fancy car that Rafe helped you christen the other day—in the backseat, specifically—and drive to your old life.

You park next to the Twinkie and get out, stepping into a slush of mud. Your shoes are new, and were clean, and you cringe internally at how much you started caring about these things. You don’t want Rafe to see you with dirty shoes.

The boys and Kie are sitting on the logs near the fire pit. Sarah is sitting right next to John B, looking at him how you look at Rafe, and then you realize the magnitude of just how much you’ve missed.

“Hey,” Kie says, looking up first, smiling. “You came.”

“Yeah.” You’re at a loss for words. Everyone looks the same. Everything feels so different.

A part of you wants to sink down between Pope and JJ, crack a beer, and laugh at jokes you think you would still understand. Another part wants to get into the fancy car and drive to Tannyhill. You opt for neither, standing a few yards away and letting the light from the fire cast its hazy glow over you and all your old friends.

“Did you tell him?” Sarah asks. She means it well, not in a rude way, but that’s how you feel.

“No, no, I didn’t. He, he thinks I’m at home. With my mom and Blake.”

“Alright,” JJ says, tossing his empty beer can. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Listen,” John B says, getting up and sounding too sincere for your liking. “We all appreciate you coming. Because we need a favor from you, and it might not be easy.”

“I mean, I think it’s gonna be pretty easy. Unless Rafe is like, really, really crazy, like even crazier than we already know he is-” JJ says, but stops when Kie and Pope shake their heads. “What? She knows, she’s the one dating him.”

“Know what? I don’t even know what you want from me-”

“We need a distraction. For Rafe, okay?” John B starts.

“An hour, okay, that’s all we need, right guys?” Sarah asks, looking back at everyone. They nod, trying to convince you, except Jayj.

“Well, like, maybe a couple of hours. If he’s up to that, y’know, I don’t wanna assume shit ‘bout stamina and all that-”

“JJ,” Pope says, shoving the blond’s arm. “You’re not helping.”

“What?” you breathe out, even more confused than before. You start to get what they’re asking, you just don’t want to admit it.

“We need to distract Rafe, for an hour, or like two hours, and we figured you’re our best bet.” John B says, and you look at them with your mouth falling open a little.

“You want me to…sleep with my boyfriend, to distract him, so you guys can do something that you won’t tell me about?”

“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”

“And is, is this thing going to hurt him in the long run? Is he going to be upset? When he finds out what happened?”

“My Kook feelings radar is a little off, right now, but who knows, I mean hell, he might not ever find out,” JJ says, and you want to sit down, because your knees feel weak, but the ground is muddy and the logs are occupied. “If we do our job right, he won’t know for a long, long time, right guys?” A chorus of right, right rings around the fire.

“And you’re not gonna tell me what this is about at all?”

“Well, it might not be a good idea. Because, you’re dating him, and listen, we just need like an hour, and he never has to know you were a part of this, okay? I will never tell him, none of us will,” Sarah says, and you do believe her. But you can’t believe that they’re asking you to do this.

“And if he finds out, and he breaks up with me, then what?”

“Yeah, I, uh, knew this was a bad idea. She’s not gonna do it, guys, so let’s just reformulate-”

“Oh, you knew I was gonna say no, JJ? Lying to my boyfriend? For the people who hurt him?”

“He hurt us too, y’know,” Pope says, and you feel your heart begin to race.

“No, I don’t know, because no one tells me anything! No one answers their phone and no one’s here when I drive down. Kie, you live two streets away from me now. The first time I saw you all month was at Midsummers and then, today. Asking me to come here to lie to Rafe, to sleep with him to distract him.”

“No, no, we shouldn’t have asked you, because I knew you would say no, I told them-” and you can’t believe the words coming from your friend's mouth. “Look at you, you went total Kook on us.”

And then you feel like they’re taking it all in. The R around your neck, the jewelry that sparkles in the light of the fire, all yellow citrine, for Rafe’s birth month. The pink dress that’s his favorite—you put it on this morning in case you ended up back at Tannyhill tonight. And worst of all, his white button up hanging from your shoulders, smelling like ocean and sandalwood and Rafe Cameron.

“It’s like you belong to him now.” You feel a tear sliding down, but you wipe it away.

“Maybe that’s because he was actually there for me, when I needed it. And I get it, maybe I should have tried harder. But you guys should have too.”

The group of you stand there in silence for a moment. Your phone goes off. You know it’s Rafe. They know it is too. It starts with Kie, and then a course of apologies from everyone. John B wipes away your tears like nothing has changed. JJ scratches his head, and then hugs you tighter than he ever has before. Pope tells you how much he’s missed you, how he had to start bandaging wounds in your absence.

“I’ll distract him. An hour, that’s all you get. I’m not sleeping with him because you guys want me to, okay? So if he leaves, he leaves.”

You take off for Tannyhill, leaving your old life behind and risking your new one all at once.

౨ৎ

Rafe’s phone goes off again, and he lets out a short, tight breath.

Princess: are you still busy at home? i need you

Princess: please rafey

“I’ll be back,” he tells Ward, and before he can even respond, he’s out of the room, calling you. The line rings twice, and then you answer.

“Rafey?” you sound quiet, like you’ve been crying.

“Hey, hey kid. What’s going on? I told you I was working tonight,” and then he runs a hand through his hair, because he knows he’s fucked, if you’re crying and you need him, then he’s going.

“I know, Rafe, I just really need you, I had a really bad night-” “Woah, wait, I thought you were just with your parents?”

“I was, it just got really bad, I-I’m outside Tannyhill because I had to leave, and then I got lost and I was scared so I just came straight here.”

“Lost? Jeez, kid, it’s, like, down the street.”

“But I didn’t wanna bother you, ‘cause you were busy-” and then he hears a hiccup, and then a sob.

“Okay, okay, stay there, I’m gonna come get you,” and he hangs up the call. He darts outside, spotting your navy car and you inside, still in the same clothes from this morning, just wearing his shirt over it, like a jacket. He gets close and you climb out of the car yourself, jumping into his arms and burying your face into his neck, like you always do when you get like this. He can feel the way your body shakes under his arms, the wetness of your tears on his black polo.

“Okay, it’s okay now, come on, let’s go inside.” You make it up the stairs to his bedroom, when Rafe guides you inside and pulls his blinds, so no one peeks inside.

He sits you up on the edge of his bed, squatting before you, hands in yours, arms resting on your knees.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” You shake your head, another tear falling. You wish you could say you were pretending, but the tears find their own way when you think about the encounter you just had. You’re lying when you tell him it’s between you and your parents, but his reaction makes you regret it instantly. “Did they say somethin’ to you? Did they try something? I’ll go over there and sort it all out, okay, kid, don’t worry about a thing.” He stands up, running another hand through his messy hair, letting it fall in the moppy way it always does, over his forehead. “Stay here, okay, princess, I’ll be back.”

Then you realize he’s gonna go over there and talk to your perfectly happy, clueless parents, so you stand up and turn him back around.

“No, no, Rafe, don’t leave,” and then you melt into a hug, taking in everything about it. Rafe rests his chin on the top of your head, his arms tight around your back. He smells so good, and the way he’s taking care of you makes you realize a couple things. “Will you just…make me forget?”

Your boyfriend looks down at you, and you don’t shy away from his gaze like you often, when you get flustered.

“Make you forget?” he questions.

“I just don’t wanna think about anything else,” you start, undoing the bow of your dress, more cleavage revealing itself. “I just wanna think about you,” and then your fingers undo the buttons trailing down the front of your dress. It falls off your shoulders, and you stand before him, naked, certainly not for the first time but what feels like the most intimate it’s ever been.

There’s a pretty lingerie set hidden in the back of your closet, what you had actually put aside for this moment, but you had no time to run home and get it, so you opted for the next best thing, taking your bra and panties off in the car ride here, shoving them into your purse, and hoping that Rafe was as tempted as you were.

“Just about me?” he questions, and you take his hand into yours, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips.

“Just you, Rafe. I’m ready, Rafey, I want you to fuck me,” and it seems like that’s all it takes. Rafe crushes his lips against yours, kissing you how he always does, tongue in your mouth and spit everywhere. He holds you by the back of your head and your hands run through his hair. You want him closer, even closer than he already is, than he possibly could be.

His hands leave your head and go down to your ass, grabbing both cheeks roughly and wrapping your legs around his waist. He drops you on his bed, head hitting the pillow, and you pull away for a second, to catch your breath. Rafe doesn’t let it happen, gripping your cheeks between his hand and bringing you back in for another kiss. You’re naked, and he’s still completely dressed, but you don’t miss the obvious way his hardened dick presses against your bare cunt.

You can’t breathe, and all your senses are overpowered by Rafe, but you also don’t really care. You keep kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths and gripping hair and skin that’s sure to leave a bruise tomorrow, until you feel him finally pull away for a second. You catch your breath, open-mouthed and heaving, eyes locked.

“‘M only gonna ask this once, kid,” he breathes, leaving another hot kiss on your neck, which makes you spread your legs further open with instinct. “Y’sure you want this? ‘Cause there’s no going back.”

You nod in that way you always have with him, telling him everything with no words at all.

“That’s my girl,” he breathes against your neck, and you feel him bite down into the soft skin of the flesh there. You yell out, but it turns into a moan when Rafe licks his tongue over the wound. “That’s just so you can remember this night, okay baby?” You look back up at him, wet eyes, swollen lips, and flushed, sweaty skin.

“Thank you, daddy.” He smiles, because you’re in for it now.

“You’re welcome, kid. Shit,” he breathes out, “I knew you’d like it, little freak.” He starts with more hot kisses, all the way down your neck, down your sternum, and stopping to press a kiss to each side of your ribs, before continuing down to your stomach. You whine from your position below him, one huge hand holding your hip in place and the other tracing the pattern of the kisses down, until he finally reaches where you want him to be.

“Gotta be quiet, kid, everyone’s home. You gonna let them all hear how much of a whore you are for me? Huh?” he mocks, and you shake your head fervently. “Good girl. You’re being so good, you’re gonna get a treat, okay?” You nod stupidly.

His breath catches for a second, when he gets down to your glistening cunt. He looks up at you from his position there, your chest heaving, tits bouncing with how much you’re squirming, how much you want him to do something. He moves his hands, one resting on your breast, pinching the nipple with his finger, and the other running a line down your pussy. Your whole body twitches up when he runs the metal of his ring over your clit, because he knows you really like it.

“Rafe, please,” you cry, sounding stupid and fucked out, even though he hasn’t started yet. “Please, please,” and your hips jerk up. He pushes them down.

“Be patient, kid. Gotta admire this virgin pussy for the last time before I ruin it, ‘kay?” You feel your walls tighten at his words, and you hope he missed the way everything just clenched, but it’s Rafe, and he didn’t miss a thing. “Like that, huh? You like being my little slut?”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the damage is done.

Rafe dives in, and you let out a moan that you didn’t realize you were capable of producing. You clamp your own hand over your mouth, because you know he’ll stop if you get too loud. His tongue licks you up and down, and true to what you had always thought, he does know what he’s doing.

The hand pinching your nipples doesn’t relent, and the weight of his arm holds you down when you buck up as he pushes two fingers inside you, scissoring them to stretch your walls out. It hurts, in the best way, and before you know it, he’s added a third.

His mouth stays focused on your clit, and your legs tremble, even though it’s barely been a few minutes. It’s all of it, all at once. Being naked in Rafe’s bed, his hand groping your tits, the way he holds you down without trying, the smell of his cologne and his skin and his sweat, making you lightheaded.

His fingers push in and out, and when he hits that sweet spot inside you, the one your own fingers have never been able to reach but somehow, Rafe’s have become well acquainted with, you can’t help the noises you make.

You repeat his name over and over again, and you think you’ve felt the height of this pleasure, that nothing could surpass this feeling, until your stomach tightens in an entirely new way. Your fucked out brain gets it together for a minute, to feel the overwhelming, ecstatic pressure of Rafe’s tongue on your clit, spelling out his own name. Your stomach tightens, unbearably so, that coil winding up, but before he even finishes the F, it snaps all at once.

You let out a scream—which you think is so stupid of you. But it feels so good, there was no way around it. Rafe reacts instantly, grabbing your hand that’s pulling his hair and using it to snap over your mouth, all while he rides you through it.

His nose presses against your clit while he slides his fingers out, your pussy walls clamping around nothing, missing him already. He laps up the mess you just made with his tongue, the noise being so overwhelming, you want to scream again.

You use your other hand to yank his hair, pulling him up to look at you, because you know you want to see this. Rafe, your Rafe, your boyfriend, with blown, wide eyes and the entire lower half of his face glistening with your juices, with the mess you just made, and then you collapse back down onto the bed.

Your breathing is heavy. You aren’t sure it’ll ever go back to normal.

Rafe pulls his shirt off by grabbing it from the back, yanking it over his head. Your hand floats up to

touch his chest, to make sure he’s still real and not just a vivid sex dream, but he slaps it out of the way.

“What did I say, hm?” he asks, leaning over you. His face is just an inch too far to kiss. Your limbs feel numb, and you can’t pull him down yourself. You want to cry, because you want to kiss him so badly. “I said you had to be quiet, or everyone’s gonna know what a little whore you are.”

“I tried, daddy, I did-”

“I don’t think you tried at all, kid.”

“No, I did, I swear-”

“You’re lucky that I-” and before he finishes his sentence, you pull him down into another kiss. He tastes like you and scotch, and the combination is so intoxicating, you can’t pull away. “Hey, hey,” he breathes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” and the soothing way he says it, you believe him.

“I’m lucky that you what?” you ask, unbuckling his belt and snaking it off the loops.

“That I love you, and I’m not gonna punish you tonight for not listening to me.” You drop the belt over your stomach, the melt part hitting with a little clink. You look back up at him, your eyes wide, you imagine, your cheeks flushed.

“You love me?” you ask, quietly. You can barely hear yourself over the thud of your heart pounding in your chest.

“I do,” Rafe replies, running his hand to smooth over your hair, which you’re sure is a mess now. “Enough that I’m gonna fuck you now, but I had to say it first, because I’m gonna fuck you until you break.”

You’re speechless, watching Rafe unbutton his pants and kick them off, boxers going with them. He strokes himself once, twice, and you’re still staring up at his face, even though normally you would get distracted.

He looks up again.

“You ready, kid?”

“I love you, Rafey,” you say, twisting your hands around to the back of his neck, pushing him into yet another kiss. You can’t pull away, even if you want to, you want him so close that you forget everything else in the world for now. While you’re kissing, he lines himself up with your leaking pussy, which has probably ruined these sheets, and pushes in the tip.

You pull back from the kiss, just to moan, but Rafe silences you with his mouth again. He pushes in more, and more, until you’re sure he’s bottomed out. Your cunt is so, so stretched, you can’t fathom this is what you’ve been missing out on, and it feels so good, like nothing has ever felt before, not his fingers, not his tongue, not any other part of him.

“That’s halfway, kid, you doin’ okay?” and your eyes jolt up to his in a second.

“H-half?” you breathe out. “I can’t, I can’t take any more, s’not gonna fit Rafe, not gonna fit-”

“Hey,” he repeats, which always has that calming effect on you. “You let me worry about that, okay? Just relax this pussy f’me, okay?” and the way he says it, you do, because you have no other choice. He pushes in again, fast, hard, and then pulls all the way out. You’re too scared to look anywhere but his eyes, so you stay locked in on them, until he pushes all the way in again, and your eyes clasp shut.

“Oh, oh my god, Rafe-” And you don’t care who hears you this time. He pulls out again, just his lip still inside you.

“Look, princess, look down,” he urges, and you follow his instructions, because you always do. “Look where we’re connected, yeah?” He fucks in and out of you, slowly but then faster, and you do look, entranced at the way your pussy sucks him in, the way your cum is coating his dick, at the brutal pace he’s set.

You look until you can’t anymore, leaning back against the pillow and watching Rafe above you, his face twisted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, mouth panting. He buries his face into your neck, and you grip the top of his shoulders, nails digging in, because you just need to hold onto something.

He told the truth, you think, in your fucked out, blissful state, that he was going to fuck you like he hated you, battering into your sore pussy over and over again.

You repeat his name—daddy, not Rafe—until he shuts you up with a kiss, and he watches the strings of spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away.

“Just needed this dick, didn’ya princess? Just needed daddy to think for ya?” You moan in reply. “You got it then, kid, because m’never gonna stop fucking you. Y’never gonna think about anything else again.”

And then he finally does you in, because he presses down, right below your stomach, while he slams in, and you feel something inside you break, like a flood breaking through a dam. It washes out to every part of you, from your ears to your fingers to your toes. White hot pleasure runs its course through your body, cunt tightening and shaking, eyes rolling back, your spine arching forward. Through all of it, Rafe pins you down, and fucks you through it. And finally, deliriously, you open your fucked-out eyes, looking up at him.

“I love you, daddy,” and he cums before he can even pull out, messy rivulets shooting inside you, leaking out onto his expensive sheets. He moans into your neck, and his entire body slumps forward, and you giggle under the weight.

A few minutes pass by.

“Rafey, you’re gonna crush me,” you say quietly, sing-songy. You’re so happy, you’ve forgotten everything else that’s happened.

Rafe presses a kiss to your forehead and rolls off, slumping next to you. Your head lands on his chest not a second later, his arm around your shoulder and another kiss to your hair.

“Feel better, kid?”

“So much better, Rafey.”

You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that you woke up to the sound of your phone going on. You pick it up, trying to turn down the light so Rafe doesn’t wake up too. There’s one message.

JJ: I thought you said you weren’t gonna sleep with him?

౨ৎ

#eeeeeee!!!! thoughts????#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #obx

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elvensorceress · 19 days

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idk I get incredibly angry at homophobes being cast on my gay shows. anybody want the start of my fic where Eddie dumps her bigoted ass and then has a gay ole sexy time with his husband and his husband's new boyfriend? because here. you can have. it's cathartic 💕

test drive - 2K, BuckTommy, BuckEddieTommy, Buddie endgame forever / Explicit

The restaurant is dimly lit in a way that might be classy and romantic, but Tommy’s hand is also on Buck’s thigh. And he’s having a lot of very not-classy, not even very romantic sorts of thoughts. Everything is far more along the lines of, he could put his hand on my dick, and I know what his cock feels like down my throat, and why are we here in a public place when we could be back at my loft taking turns fucking each other until we’re both a mess of cum and lube and sweat and sexy bruises and love bites? Because all of that is way more appealing than what they are sitting here, waiting to do.

If it were just one of their dates, it’d be great. Those are fantastic. Tommy likes to pick him up and take him to nice places and he smiles in a really, really soft cute way that also has an air of, I am going to fuck you until you scream and you will love every second. And holy fucking god, does Buck love every second.

Bisexuality, man. Who knew?

It’s so fantastic. It’s so different? Or maybe it’s just that Tommy is different because he’s ridiculously cool and hot and Buck always really liked when someone knew what they wanted and would take the lead and he could do everything in his power to please them and make them feel good. Confidence is infinitely sexy and competence even more so. And Tommy has all of that in spades.

And Buck loves men. Buck really loves men. It makes so much sense and how had he never even considered? Maybe he considered but he sure as hell never realized wanting a man and being attracted to a man was something that fit so well. Fuck, it fits so well.

Maybe he could even end up with a man someday? Maybe he could marry a man and have a relationship that is like this all the time for the rest of his life? Not that he doesn’t like women still. Women are great. People who don’t identify as either or they identify as both or however they choose— they’re great, too.

Everyone is hot and Evan Buckley is very bisexual, and it just might be one of the greatest revelations he’s ever had.

He’s just really, really enjoying being with a man right now.

He is not, however, enjoying the thought of this dinner. Everything about this dinner makes his stomach a washing machine of anxiety. For no reason. He doesn’t know why. There’s nothing wrong with it.

Why wouldn’t he and his boyfriend go on a double date with his best friend who is their mutual friend, and his best friend’s girlfriend. What is wrong with that? It’s fine. Should be— fun?

Shouldn’t be a bad taste in his mouth that the wine still hasn’t gotten rid of and roiling in his stomach that is really killing his appetite. But it very much is.

Tommy squeezes Buck’s thigh and rubs it in a way that surely is supposed to be comforting. But it makes Buck want to drag him out of this restaurant and back to the loft where he can show Tommy how good he is at fucking him now. Not just because it would be a thousand times better than the prospect of this dinner. The bar is so low on the ground, it’s buried at this point. But also because sex with his new boyfriend is better than— actually, Buck is having a hard time thinking of anything that is better right now.

Very hard time.

They’ve been practicing. Everything. Blowjobs, fucking, fingering, ball massages, prostate milking, rimming— all sorts of really fun things Buck never even imagined could feel so good. Not that he was oblivious to a lot of it. He has toys. His ex was into pegging. Buck might have been unaware of how intense and gay— well, bi. He’s bi now. Buck is bi now. Probably always was but he knows it now. He’s bisexual.— his attraction to men could be. But he was not unaware of sexual acts that feel good to his body.

But it’s totally different with a real man and a real cock and being manhandled by someone who might actually be bigger and stronger than you is really fucking hot.

He checks his watch again and it’s already 7:28. They’re almost half an hour late. Which is so not like Eddie. He’s not sure if Marisol is like that but he knows for sure Eddie is either fifteen minutes early for everything or he texts if there is a problem. Even then, he’s only ever a few minutes late. If that. And last Buck checked, there were no new messages on his phone.

He checks again, and still nothing. Not even to Buck’s message of, hey u ok? u on the way? He frowns and sets his phone back on the table and turns to Tommy. “How long before I’m allowed to be really worried?”

Tommy gives him an amused smile. “You can be worried.”

“How long before we need to bother Athena? Ten more minutes? Five? Sh-should I bother Athena now?”

Tommy’s eyebrows scrunch and he looks at Buck like he’s crazy. Okay, it’s probably crazy. Just. He’s worried? That must be the churning in his stomach. “I’m sure Eddie’s fine. It hasn’t been that long. And he’s Eddie.”

Yeah. Yeah, he’s Eddie. But Eddie was also shot downtown in the middle of broad daylight and nearly bled out all over, and there’s not much anyone can do even if they are trained in hand to hand combat and self-defense and those kinds of things. Not many ways to defend against a sniper round that shouldn’t even be a thing.

Not that Buck is thinking about that. Ever.

He’s just turning into a washing machine over this dinner. That’s all.

Five minutes later, some of it finally eases when Eddie finally shows up and sits down across from them. Alone.

Alone?

“Sorry, guys,” Eddie runs a hand through his hair and breathes like he’s run a hundred miles. He’s hardly been looking distressed at all lately. He’s been glowing smiles and pretty laughs. Not pretty. Nice? Good? Good that he’s so much happier and at peace.

But he’s not that now.

“I would’ve—” Eddie checks his own watch, one that was a Christmas present that Buck had engraved with, all the time you need, and must realize how late he actually is. “Fuck. Sorry. Really sorry. I’ll buy? Unless you’ve already eaten and paid and are about to leave.”

Tommy shakes his head and has that nice smile that’s so reassuring. “We haven’t. Don’t worry about it.”

“We were waiting,” Buck adds and itches to ask him what’s wrong, why he’s late, why he looks— like he isn’t okay.

“Great.” Eddie nods tersely and it sounds anything but great. “They got anything stronger than wine and cocktails here? Because—” He doesn’t say. But he does make a face the conveys everything.

“Doubt it,” Tommy says. “But we can get something somewhere else. Is Mar— Mari?”

“Marisol,” Buck supplies. Not that it matters. Not that he cares. Is he supposed to care? There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s fine.

“Right,” Tommy says, which should say everything. Eddie’s been hanging out with Tommy for months, Buck’s been with Tommy for months, and Tommy is pretty damn good at remembering people’s names. “Marisol. Is she still on the way?”

Eddie’s jaw gets very tight. “No. We’re done.”

Tommy looks at Buck and Buck looks at Tommy. They’re done? They broke up? Not that it’s particularly surprising. Part of the curse of dating someone you met on a call. Gotta be. Also the whole thing where Eddie has some kind of commitment issues or something because as soon as he gets a girlfriend, he has to spend all his time doing anything besides being with said girlfriend.

“So, drinking?” Tommy says.

Buck pushes his wine glass across the table. They usually share when they eat together. Drinks, food, anything. And he’s happy to offer it to the cause.

“Yes, drinking.” Eddie takes Buck’s wine and downs all of it.

Eddie’s single again. Marisol isn’t coming to dinner and she’s not part of their lives any longer. Not that Buck has a problem with her. She’s fine. She was nothing really. That wasn’t going to last. Eddie likes the idea of being with someone. So he says. He’s allergic to actually having a relationship for some reason.

The washing machine in Buck’s stomach disappears though. Which is so much better. Now, it’s just Buck hanging out with his best friend and his boyfriend.

Maybe there’s a little washing machine. It’s nothing though.

They order food and drinks, and Eddie only goes through a couple shots and three glasses of wine and one beer. But he eats and also drinks water and doesn’t seem inebriated at all. So, they focus on the meal and Tommy’s latest work stories of helicopter rescues.

It’s not until after Buck discreetly hands their waiter his credit card before they’re actually brought the bill, that Eddie actually starts talking.

“I kind of fucked up. Didn’t mean to. I owe you an apology,” he says and looks at Buck with worlds of regret and sorrow.

Whatever it is, Buck forgives him. He’s sure he’s done far worse than whatever it is. “Why? What, uh, what happened?”

Eddie doesn’t look at him. Or Tommy. He does shake his head but not like he’s saying no. More like he’s disgusted. “I let it slip that you two are— that you’re. Dating. Together. Boyfriends? Do you call each other that? Are you boyf— never mind, I let it slip. I’m sorry. That was my bad. Not my secret to tell.”

Tommy looks scrunched and confused again and Buck— he doesn’t understand what the problem is? No, he hasn’t told many people yet. But it’s not a secret that he and Tommy are together.

“Eds,” Buck says and immediately thinks he probably shouldn’t have called him that. He doesn’t know why. But he shouldn’t. “It’s fine. I’m not— It’s not a secret. I’m not hiding. Or— or in the closet? I’m out. Now. I’m bi and—” And he’s really happy about that. He really loves it. He’s bisexual. He loves women and men and whoever regardless of gender. And holy shit, does he love men right now. He really, really loves being with a man. He looks to his side and grins brightly at Tommy. “And I’m not ashamed or embarrassed that Tommy and I are together.”

There’s a cute half smile that curves the side of Tommy’s mouth and Buck so wants to kiss him. And do all sorts of other things with him.

“Well. Good.” Eddie taps his finger on an empty shot glass like he’s contemplating ordering another. “Still. Didn’t go well. Didn’t mean to out you like that.”

“Didn’t go well?” Tommy asks. “Saying that Evan and I are dating didn’t go well?”

Eddie purses his lips and does a slow, exaggerated shake of his head. “Nope. But at least I learned that now. Has the waiter brought our check yet? Because I’m just going to drink more if I don’t head out soon. Not that I’m sad about her or anything. I’m pissed. You think you know someone, and no. No, she’s a raging homophobe.”

She— oh. Oh, that’s what happened. “She broke up with you because we’re gay? Bi and gay? Or— you know what I mean.” Is Tommy gay? Or bi? Or something else? Buck hasn’t actually asked what label he uses. How he qualifies his sexuality. He felt weird asking. It’s so personal. Is he supposed to ask? All he knows is that Tommy was into him. Tommy kissed him and it was breathtaking, incredible, magnificent and changed Buck’s whole life. He didn’t really think anything beyond that. Couldn’t really think beyond that.

Eddie definitively points at himself and then at phantom nothingness. “I dumped her. Because I said this was a double date with you guys and she said, well not really, and I said, no really. It’s a double date. Her and me and both of you. Double date. Except not her. Ever. Anymore. Because she had to go off about how it was wrong and made her uncomfortable and I ‘let both of you be alone with Christopher?’ And it couldn’t possibly be a date like me and her would go on a date because she’s a woman and I’m a man and that was normal. But you two are both men. Both muscular, powerful, masculine, manly firemen type men— so it could never be the same especially because neither one of you are flamey or girly or whatever, so it could never work, the two of you since neither one of you is ‘The Girl.’ Which is all bullshit. By the way. Obviously. And,” he finally stops and breathes, and there’s a hard swallow in his throat and his eyes are distant and his whole body is strung tight and if he could breathe fire? He probably would. Holy shit, he’s pissed off. Buck isn’t even sure he’s ever seen Eddie this angry at anyone who hasn’t hurt someone he loves.

Although. Technically she did? Not hurt per se, Buck doesn’t give a shit about what she thinks of him. But she was insulting them. So. Yeah, okay, of course fiercely protective Eddie would be angry.

“And anyway,” Eddie says, still never quite looking at Buck or even at Tommy. Never quite focusing on them. “That’s how I’m single and back on the market again.” He smiles a wide, bitter, snarky kind of smile, and steals the half-full beer glass in front of Buck and downs it in one gulp.

(Read on AO3)

#buddie #bucktommy #jenwyn wip #buddie wip #almost done with the whole thing should be up in the next day or so #911 abc #fic: test drive

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chrisevansonly · 6 months

Text

𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚 | 𝒐𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒑𝒊𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊

☁︎ oscar piastri x female reader

☁︎ oscar is experiencing thanksgiving with your family for the first time….and boy is it crazy

☁︎ no warnings just fluff and maybe a tad overwhelmed oscar lol

☁︎ i can’t believe october is starting to come to an end, these little fall fics have been making me so happy, i think ill do another one in december too to get ready for christmas 🤭 p.s thanksgiving in canada is beginning of october in contrast to the USA which is end of november in case you’re confused :)

Thanksgiving was a little chaotic in your family, when everyone gathered together and all sat down for the annual fall meal, only this year it was your boyfriend Oscar’s first time attending it with you. He knew you got your vibrant and extroverted personality from your parents, but now that he looks back on it, he’s pretty sure your entire family played a part in it.

“Oscar when do you and my little sunshine plan on having children hmm?” your grandma asked, causing you to choke on your water

“Nana!”

Oscar laughed patting your back gently to help with your coughing

“I think whenever the time is right, we’re in no rush”

“Well you’re only getting older!”

You shook your head at the old woman’s antics your mother stepping in before you

“Mom, leave these two alone, they’re both still in their early twenties, no babies for them, eat your turkey”

“Never too early to have a baby, such nonsense!”

Leaning over to Oscar you looked at him apologetically

“I’m sorry, she’s very persistent”

He only smiled, kissing your forehead as he squeezed your knee under the table

“I don’t mind at all, it’ll happen someday anyway”

The two of you may have been young but you both knew that you were endgame for each other, there was no one else on earth more perfect for either of you, and everyone was starting to see that.

“So Oscar, i’ve been watching your season, looks pretty good this year”

It was your father’s time to chime in, Oscar nodding as he gave your father 100% of his attention.

“Yes, it’s been going really well, the car feels good this year, so i’m looking forward to finishing the next few races and then having some time off” he replied, a bit hesitantly as he always did with your dad

“That’s good to hear, I’d love to come see a race sometime”

You smiled

“You should come to Las Vegas with us dad! You and mom have been wanting to go back there so why not?”

In hindsight you should have asked Oscar first if he was okay with this, but knowing him, he wouldn’t mind at all. He loved spending time with your family as much as you did with his.

“Oh that’s a great idea honey, i’m sure we can figure something out!”

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch, calm conversation and laughter shared between everyone, you could already feel the classic thanksgiving hangover hitting you as you lounged on the couch tucked into Oscar’s side, your eyes heavy and tired.

“NO YOU JUST SLAPPED ME WITH ANOTHER PICK UP UP 4 IM GONNA KILL YOU!!!”

Oscar laughed hearing your little cousins playing uno in the other room as you rolled your eyes. If anyone was the loudest on these holidays it was the kiddos.

“YEAH WELL YOU JUST SUCK AT THE GAME THEN!”

It wasn’t long before your aunt went in there and told them off, quiet chatter resuming after the mini scream fest over the classical card game had ensued. Truth be told you were nervous for Oscar to experience thanksgiving with your family because you weren’t always put together and fancy, you were loud and energetic, your family loved playing games, having treasure hunts and playing games of charades.

You knew deep down it wouldn’t everyone’s cup of tea but Oscar wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d never felt more comfortable and at home like he did with you when you visited your family. It made him feel normal and accepted, he didn’t have to worry about the media, the race track or the constant murmurs going around the paddock.

“How was your first thanksgiving experience love?”

He smiled down at you, his finger tips running up and down your back

“I loved it, really it was so much, I can’t wait to keep experiencing this craziness with you”

“Oscar loves the thanksgiving craziness…never thought i’d say that”

The Aussie laughed leaning down to kiss you

“Well now I get to experience a different craziness from yours everyday”

“Hey!”

You frowned jokingly but he was quick to once again bring his lips to yours, deepening the kiss enough to have your face flush, thankfully your family too enamoured in their own activities to notice your little display of affection.

“I love you and all your craziness darling, it’s what makes you, you.” he stated softly, taking his time to admire you

“I love you more.”

Oscar had all he needed right in front of him, he’d never felt more welcomed and appreciated than he did right now, curled up on the couch at your parents house after a delicious dinner, something he would continue to be apart of for years…and years to come.

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri drabble #formula 1 masterlist #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #oscar piastri f1 #f1 drabble #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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ireneaesthetic · 6 months

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“Do you think wilmon relationship is toxic?”

Not at all.

It's definitely a complicated dynamic, but none of it made me ever define wilmon relationship as toxic.

There are two specific moments that come to my mind to prove my point: 1) simon standing up for himself - i don’t want to be anyone’s secret - and yet not forcing wilhelm to come out, but giving him all the time and space he needed; 2) wille felt ready to let simon go and allow him to love someone else, despite it being the last thing he wanted to do and his current heartbreak, bc he thought it was for the best, for both of them to stop hurting.

People seem to forget about it but - they're so young. not facing life in the most mature and rational way is more than okay. they proved so many times to have such respect for each other’s boundaries tho. they're still learning a lot from each other, they’ve grown along with everything they’ve been through and always found their way back together eventually.

They’re still learning to communicate too and it’s the reason why they fight more than once, ending up speaking their truth and feelings in a not-so-comfortable way. there are no conflicts just for the sake of angst bc they're always constructive, also leading them both to make choices for themselves, and i personally love it.

It's the stressors and circumstances affecting them that have to be called toxic. can't wait for the wilmon endgame in s3 but i've already seen enough to say that they're meant to be - i really mean it.

#thank u for the ask <3 #i rambled a bit so nothing personal #hope i made sense #young royals #prince wilhelm #simon eriksson #wilhelm x simon #wilmon

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formulafics · 2 months

Note

For the blurb reader dealing with the hate of dating a driver and them comforting her.

MRS. ALL AMERICAN, but make it a blurb

well, it may be a few months later, but here it is!! i so hope you love it rena 😔🙏🏻 also im living up to that conversation we had about me dropping things without warning 😼 this also lowkey made me wanna start writing again so 👀

MRS. ALL AMERICAN | SMAU (i’d suggest reading this before you read the blurb!)

Initially, the comments didn’t bother you. In fact, you found yourself amused at many of them, being so unbelievably absurd and far from the truth. A part of you also know it was inevitable. The internet is cruel, and along with that, your relationship moved much faster than most in this day and age. So, for the time being, it wasn’t hard to just ignore them, especially since you were so certain that Alex would be your endgame. To which, he is.

Now, months later, with rings on your fingers, there’s not a shred of doubt in your mind, regarding your relationship with Alex. It’s only getting better by the day, and you couldn’t ask for a better partner. That being said, the comments didn’t stop. Frankly, you’ve started to think they’re getting worse, and unfortunately, it’s becoming harder for you to ignore them.

Alex is not oblivious to your shift in mood. He can see it clearly, especially now as he gazes at you from across the table. His eyes glance down to your hands, watching you pick apart the food on your plate, food that you usually would be ‘going to town on’ (as logan says). His brows furrow as he looks at your face, his heart sinking at the strange sadness that lingers within your expression.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, eyes meeting yours when you look at him. You swallow a lump in your throat, one you didn’t even realize was there, before answering him. “Yeah,” you respond flatly, huffing briefly. Your chest is tight, leaving you to feel like you can’t suck in enough air. Your response isn’t exactly what Alex hoped to hear, the man being slightly stumped on what to do or say.

He waits a few moments, but the longer you both sit in silence, the more the whole situation weighs on the both of you. “You can talk to me,” Alex assures you, eyes hopeful that you’ll open up to him. You sigh, setting your fork down. You lean forward, resting your arms on the table to close the distance between you and him, and he mirrors your movements, making it feel as if you both are in a more private setting.

“It’s just,” you pause, trying to think of how to word things. “The comments — they’re getting worse, I think,” you say it quietly, the aforementioned lump returning to your throat. Alex’s expression softens, and he simply nods. “Yeah,” he responds. Before anything else can be said, the waitress is at your table, and after confirming that you’re done eating, Alex asks for the bill.

By the time you’re walking out of the restaurant and headed to the car, you’re almost in tears. You squeeze Alex’s hand in yours, unintentionally bumping into his side as you walk to the car. When you do finally reach it, he guides you to the passenger side, but rather than opening the door, he engulfs you in a hug. Just like that, the tears begin to fall from your eyes, and you hug him back, nuzzling your face into his jacket. He doesn’t say anything yet, and just rests his head on yours, his hand soothingly rubbing your back.

He waits until your crying slows, then kisses your head. “I’m sorry about the comments - I know it’s hard,” he says against your hair, and you just nod in response, hugging him impossibly tighter. “You smell good,” you say quietly, lifting the mood slightly. He chuckles, making the corners of your lips pull upwards. “Thank you,” he hums. You look up at him, a small smile on your lips. Even though there’s still weight on your shoulders, you can’t help the smile, or the way your heart speeds up when you look at him.

He tilts his head down and presses a kiss against your lips - a soft, short one. “I wish I could do more,” he says earnestly, resting his forehead on yours. “I know,” you respond, knowing that he probably needs some reassurance too.

A few moments pass, the both of you stood there in comfortable silence with your eyes closed, soft gusts of wind breezing past you. Alex inhales, then pulls away, but doesn’t go too far just yet. “I just hope you know that everything they say is complete bullshit, and that i’m genuinely so happy with you,” He says, his eyes glimmering with honesty in a way that makes your heart squeeze in your chest. “Me too,” you respond, pressing another kiss to his lips. Slowly, the lingering weight on your shoulders finally dissipates as Alex opens the passenger door, holding your hand until you’re in the seat. He bends down, a silly grin on his face. “I love you so much,” he says, making you smile. “I love you.” you respond, watching as he closes the door, then walks around the car, taking his place in the drivers seat.

taglist: @renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @leclercvsx @motorsp0rt @fastcarsandshit @vellicora @spidersophie @arkhammaid @kortneej81 @lokietro @piasstrisblog @elliegrey2803 @i-love-ptv @marshmummy @sadieurlady

#✩ . aa²³ files 🏎️#formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 drabble #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #formula one fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 x female reader #formula one social media au #formula one smau #formula one blurbs #alex albon x reader #alex albon x you #alex albon x y/n

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slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 3 months

Text

Will you please be quiet?

Summary: You have a song stuck in your head and Emily one has one way to make you be quiet.

Word Count: 1.1k

Fluff, kissing

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

!NOT PROOFREAD!

Reader POV:

“I wanna be your endgame, I wanna be your first string!” I sang as I was getting ready for the day. Music blasting through my apartment, as I pack my go-bag.

I go over to my vanity and put on some quick makeup and keep humming Endgame as it echos through the walls of my bedroom.

I hop into my car to go to work and put my Spotify on shuffle, Endgame comes on again. I’m not complaining but oh my god. This is going to be stuck in my head for days now.

Time skip to when reader gets to Quantico*

I’m minding my own business waiting for my coffee to pour while humming Endgame as Emily walks up behind me.

“Got a song stuck in your head?” Her hand lightly brushed over my waist as she went to stand next to me. Oh my goodness this woman makes butterflies erupt in my stomach by such a small touch.

“Ha, yeah. That obvious huh?” She let out a small laugh as she nodded.

“Yeah well you’ve been here what, an hour? And I don’t think I’ve heard anything but that time leave your mouth.” I lowered my head and shook it laughing at her observation, a blush coating my cheeks.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t come here just to talk about the song planting itself in that pretty little head of yours-“ I don’t let her finish, partially because the blush on my cheek is becoming too noticeable now and also because I know exactly what she’s going to say.

“We have a case.”

“Yes, we do, meet in the round table in 10.” She gives me a small smile and walks away.

Time skip to once they’re on the jet on the way to the case*

“Big reputation, big reputation, ohh you and me, we’d be a big conversation.” I mutter under my breath as I sit next to Emily looking over the file.

“Oh my god! You’re still going huh?” I’m snapped out of my thoughts by her soothing voice, I laugh and look at her honey brown eyes.

“Sorry!” I laughed as I looked back down to the file, her hand found its way onto my thigh under the table, careful not to draw attention to us. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

An uncontrollable smile bloomed on my face. I gave her hand a squeeze to say thanks and we both went back to the task at hand.

Time skip to when they’re looking through evidence at the local PD*

“You got anything?” Like asked Rossi.

“Nothing, if this guy did have any enemies he was quick to bury the hatchet as not to be tracked down.” As soon as he said this my brain flickered on with Endgame. Again.

“And I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put ‘em.” I hear a giggle next to me and look over and find Emily gazing at me.

“Don’t even,” I sighed “It’s starting to annoy me as well.” She laughed and shook her head and looked back down at the evidence like we had collected from the scenes.

Time skip to a little later*

“Hey what you humming?” Tara asked me as she looked up from the crime scene photos on the table.

“Endgame by Taylor Swift.” I reply without looking up, trying to piece together where the unsub was going to strike next.

“Oh my god! I love Taylor Swift! What’s your favourite album?” Before I could respond Spencer came into the room we, and the rest of the team, were in and started talking.

“Guys, I know where the unsub is going to strike next. The house he grew up in has been condemned and scheduled for demolition so that’s probably where he’s been taking his victims. If he sticks to his pattern, he’ll be going back there at some point after 10pm tonight.” We all started to pack up our things when Emily called out,

“Guys, we need to do a stakeout. We’ll scare him away if we go in there guns drawn and then he’ll go underground so, Reid and JJ, park on the curb near the house, Tara and Matt, go to the end of the road, Rossi and Luke to the other end of the road, you’ll act as a kind of covert roadblock and me and y/n will park up in an lay-by near the house.”

We all got up and went to our assigned SUV and started driving to our destinations. On the way there Emily turned the radio on.

“And I heard about you, ooh, you like the bad ones too.”

“Oh my god! It’s everywhere!” We laughed together at this. What are the chances?! We kept the radio on nonetheless.

As we pulled into the parking space we sat in a comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other presence and the peace of an evening stakeout. The sun was setting and I absentmindedly started humming under my breath yet again.

“I don’t wanna miss you, like the other girls do. I don’t wanna hurt yo-“ before I could finish I feel my chin being tugged to the side and a soft pair of lips meeting my own.

To say I was shocked at first was an understatement but I soon melted into the kiss, her thumb caressed my face as our lips moved together. It was the most amazing moment of my life to date. Emily slowly pulled away her face still barely a centimetre away from my own.

“What was that for?” I asked, still skeptical.

“It’s the only thing that I could think of to stop you from singing that damn song!” Laughter broke out between us and as it died down she pulled me back in again for a brief kiss.

“Dinner at my place tomorrow?” She asked gazing into my eyes with our hands intertwined.

“Are you, Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, asking me out on a date?” I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt.

“Yes, I am.” She giggled.

“In that case, dinner tomorrow sounds awesome.” I kiss her again, savouring the taste of her on my lips.

“I’ll take you to and from work so you can stay the night and not worry about your car.” I say thank you as I pull her into another kiss, this one lasting a little longer than the others.

Her hand reaches for the back of my head and pulls me in closer, her tongue swiping my bottom lip asking for permission. Granting it, I open my mouth and let her explore.

“Hey guy! Stop sucking each other’s faces and go back to the PD we got the guy!”

We make eye contact and start laughing hard.

Well Shit. At least I ahoy a date with em!

#wlw #wlw fanfic #lesbian #sapphic #emily prentiss #criminal minds #wlw pride #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #lesbian pride #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x female reader

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explodo-smash · 4 months

Note

Are you one of the people expecting bkdk to be canon? I just learned that there are people that sincerely believe Hori would have Deku and Bkg have an explicit confession of love. That he's going to be the first popular mangaka to have a endgame gay ship. I am in so many mlm ships of shounen but I've never had the delusion that the author would make them canon despite the evidences otherwise. Like I thought it's fine to ship mlm as long as we stayed in our lane and never harassed the author.

After speaking together, we do believe based on the evidence in the series that BakuDeku being canon is not an even vaguely unreasonable conclusion to reach. We think the story is written in a way you can reach that conclusion easily, so much that even casual viewers who aren’t shippers are questioning the nature/potential conclusion of their relationship.

One of the most consistent and convincing lines of evidence for us has been Katsuki taking on roles/positions traditionally reserved for female heroines/love interests (if you’ve seen anyone call him “narratively androgynous,” this is what they’re referring to). In the context of Jump magazine, we have a number of shonen heroines and love interests to compare Katsuki to. The similarities are so striking that many notable people (including the VAs for the anime) have taken to calling him the heroine of the series.

However, we do think things like homophobia (whether it’s the writer or the audience/consumerbase at large– in this case we’re primarily referring to the audience), the safety of everyone involved, and timing are all unpredictable factors people have to take into consideration when writing/reading a story of this magnitude. Needless to say, if Horikoshi is indeed planning an endgame for bakudeku, he’d also have to take these factors into consideration.

Horikoshi has a record of being pretty in-tune with his fanbase. He definitely keeps some eye on bnha’s reception–for example, he mentioned a while back that both the people who love Katsuki and the people who hate him will have something to look forward to in this finale (we can now see what he meant lol). He’s very likely aware of the people who love bakudeku and the people who loathe it.

Taking into account that he tends to be very intentional with his writing choices, he’s written this story in a way that not only centered bakudeku’s relationship over others (notably Izuku + Ochako’s, the character he’d presumably end up with if things were going predictably?), but also went the extra mile to distinguish their relationship as unique, closer than all their other relationships, the “biggest pillar of the story” (x, x). He didn’t have to do all of this. This extra push is what’s giving bakudeku that undeniable chance at an endgame right now, because it’s come to a point where no one can ignore the implications of scenes like this:

On the flip side, we don’t think people’s hesitation is unreasonable. It’s scary! If bakudeku were to fall flat of all this buildup/our expectations, it wouldn’t be the first time the romantic implications between a pair of boys in a story like this was ignored. Hell it wouldn’t be the first time a popular pair in general, (gay or not) got ignored in favor of what the author just felt like doing, regardless of what any previous developments in the story or interviews or official artwork would have us believe. There’s enough written evidence that canon bakudeku wouldn’t be surprising, but there’s also (at the time of writing this response) still room for things to go another direction, for all of this to be recontextualized and passed as something else.

As per social norms/patterns of behavior, this would be disappointing as hell but not surprising. Especially for people who have been let down before, we completely understand the need/impulse to distance oneself from the idea/hope that bakudeku may become canon.

In all honesty, if it turns out bakudeku isn’t canon or left open-ended (say, an ending where they’re partners of some kind/the closest to one another without that explicit romantic confirmation), we would be frustrated/heartbroken. Not because we feel like Horikoshi shouldn’t do what he wants, he should. But because there’s been a clear effort to bring LGBTQ+ readers into the fold, and tell and portray our experiences in MHA. Horikoshi has done a beautiful, incredible job of writing various LGBTQ+ and marginalized experiences as a metaphor in his stories. Toga is a prime example. This is something that readers around the world have noticed, and it’s something MHA is special for (see this data x, and the further context/commentary on it given here x).

We think it’s intentional. This story and the relationships in it have invoked experiences close and personal to many of us. Things are in a state right now where we wouldn’t just feel baited, we feel like readers would have a right to feel unsatisfied.

That being said, feeling unsatisfied doesn’t equate to feeling empowered to harass or bother others. Especially not Horikoshi himself, and also including other readers who had differing expectations. This is really the case across the board. We should all be able to control our anticipation/expectations without becoming assholes.

It’s not just the shippers, by the way. People who work on the series or work closely with Horikoshi have rooted for bakudeku to go beyond. Izuku and Katsuki have already done what a good chunk of the readerbase thought impossible and became friends. People see their writing, their potential, and they want more. The voice actors (x, x sorry for the crunchy pic it's all i've got atm), academics (x), musicians (x, x) , editors (x) and more have all kind of rallied around Bakugou and Deku’s bond, with a particular sensitivity towards the deeply and uniquely intimate nature of it + how it evokes romance.

We’d like to see MHA exist free of the burdens previous popular shounen series have had placed on them. But that’s a conversation for the ending. As far as the fanbase goes, I think it’s super important people practice humility and caution when speaking to others. We have NO way of knowing what will happen. People who have been traumatized by situations like this in the past have a right to be anxious, people in general are allowed to withhold judgment until we have all the information we need. However, we don’t think having hope or confidence that this narrative might lead us to a canon bakudeku is unwarranted or delusional.

At the end of the day one thing is true, and this was something we had to fight to “prove” much longer than we had to prove Bakudeku had romantic potential - it’s that Kacchan and Izuku’s lives are going to be forever intertwined in this new era of their world that births from the finale.

They’re forever intertwined in a way that’s not replicable for any other character in the series, and that’s amazing all on its own. We’ll just have to wait and see how far they take it! Thanks for reading if you got this far, and Happy Holidays!

#Anonymous #ask #bakudeku #dekubaku #katsudeku

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alexiethymia · 3 months

Text

I have a lot of thoughts.

Ok so I loved it. It was cheesy but I do love the entire hotel’s dynamic. They’re such a messed up found family. It was sweet as hell (pun intended) that they all stayed for Charlie and their home (gosh darn it, the hotel’s become home for them)!

The duet between Chaggie was adorable.

BUT BUT the last two episodes only cemented my intrigue with Charlastor. I do love fanon Charlastor.

But their canon dynamic on its own is so interesting. Like it doesn’t have to be romantic.

It’s in the way he didn’t immediately deal for her soul and yet we just know the deal is going to be heartbreaking.

It’s in the way despite his touch-aversion he is STILL so touchy with her. Like I always thought that it was power play, and to some extent it still is. But he already got the deal he wanted from her, and yet he still caresses her hair, pinches her cheeks, loops her arm around his in some parody of a gentleman’s hold?? (So so touchy, and it even seems different in the past that it seems almost friendly. It was weirdly adorable how proud he was in showing off Cannibal Town to Charlie). Sure it may be manufactured, but part of me thinks that part of it is unconscious because he displays a level of comfort with her similar to what he displays with Rosie, with his friends in other words. He’s called her ‘charming’ twice now!

It’s in the way that despite that Charlie has always been the underdog and mocked, in his own sadistic way, he HAS always believed in her (even as he still thinks it’s all for his own amusement). Even if he’s only using her there’s something to be said that he’s always believed her side was the winning side. He parallels Vaggie in that way I think. He seems proud of her (like seriously I wouldn’t expect him to actually smile sincerely with Charlie’s heartfelt declaration of love for all of them - him of all sinners!) AND here’s the thing, I could easily believe he thinks he will leave everyone high and dry if it’s a choice between him or them. He’s in it for himself after all. But when he sings about seeing and polishing Charlie’s potential, yeah it’s definitely villainous, but it’s striking that whatever mysterious endgame he has in the future still seems to include her.

And the most striking thing for me! We now know that his staff is his weakness, possibly a large source of his power. AND what this heartless sinner who trusts no one hands it over to Charlie?? Twice? He literally puts his weakness in her hands? It shows that (despite not admitting to it) he trusts in Charlie’s inherent goodness that she won’t take advantage of his vulnerability, because for some reason I don’t see him doing that with anyone else.

Charlie and Alastor are foils. Their dynamic forms a crucial part of the show. Absolute goodness versus absolute evil is boring. Alastor’s villainous breakdown is prepping the audience for a heartbreaking betrayal. But again it would be a boring development to watch if Alastor was his usual smug and evil self through it all. For it to have weight, Alastor also has to go through inner turmoil as well. Corrupt the cutie is a favorite trope for a reason. But who’s corrupting who? From Alastor’s breakdown, it’s clear he’s not as in control of everything anymore. I love love Alastor’s unwilling, conflicting, growing attachment to the hotel (which is best shown through his relationship with Charlie, though I would hope he develops his relationships with the other hotel residents too).

And it would be so interesting (and satisfying! and heartbreaking) if Charlie ends up playing Alastor at his own game. If Charlie is the one factor that Alastor doesn’t see coming because he (shock!) actually DOES trust her. In other words, in the same way Charlie (and the hotel) is influencing Alastor to become softer (and in his view, weak), what if Charlie does end up being influenced enough by Alastor’s mentoring that she ends up becoming all the more ruthless. Because I can see a scenario where Charlie ends up ‘betraying’ Alastor for what she deems a justified reason. Alastor’s ruthlessness with the self-righteousness of an angel? Whoo boy. There would be so many layers of dramatic irony there that Alastor’s plan of corrupting Charlie ends up working so well but it ends up hurting him because she’s the chink that manages to get past that smiling armor.

And compounding this inevitable tragedy is the knowledge that this could have all been avoided. Alastor trusts her, but it seems like it’s not enough or his urge for control still wins out in the end. Because for me there was no need to go through a deal. If it’s Charlie, she wouldn’t abandon Alastor and she’d do everything to help free him if that’s what the deal was for because that’s the only deal I can think of that wouldn’t require Charlie to hurt anyone.

Unless the deal isn’t about that. Unless typical power-hungry Alastor’s goal really is to depose Lucifer and to rule Hell. Because Charlie definitely wouldn’t help in that (unless she was forced to through their deal) but perhaps there’s something only she can do that ends up handing power over to Alastor.

That is to say Chaggie fulfills that itch for stability and a happy ending. Charlastor fulfills that itch for angst and push-and-pull. From the beginning, it’s been a tug of war and a battle of wills between Charlie and Alastor and I’m glad to see that theme has remained in the show. Alastor will be the truest test of Charlie’s belief in redemption. It’s exciting to see who’ll win out. Will Alastor corrupt her first or will Charlie redeem him first?

Like I thought I’d only see this is in fic, but heck I didn’t think we would actually get a group hug with Alastor but wow omg I can’t believe we actually got it in the show proper!

That is to say this long spiel is just to say that the show ended up turning me into a multishipper haha.

#hazbin hotel #charlastor #alastor #charlie morningstar #chaggie #don’t come @me pls #like I said I don’t need it to be romantic #but ever since the pilot I’ve been excited for the canon charlastor dynamic #and the show sure didn’t disappoint!#everything that intrigued me about it at first was still there #and got better!#vaggie #to think even vaggie would be smiling that alastor came back?? wow

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lotus222 · 9 months

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I have a theory…

Everyone is up and arms about the elriel v. gwynriel debate so if you get easily triggered about those ships pls avert your eyes cause I’m gonna be unapologetically brutal.

I just finished reading CC2 (ik I’m behind) and it opened my eyes to something SJM has been saying since the beginning.

Now, while reading this massive book, I had a continuing foreboding feeling that Hunt was going to be replaced by Ithan as Bryce’s love interest. Bc as we know SJM always switches up the MMC after one book or so, so I was scurred. BUT

I was pleasantly surprised to see that SJM did all in her power to reinforce the idea that these two are endgame, by having Bryce CHOOSE Hunt and vice versa — going against her arranged marriage, the royal lineage requirements, and the added complexity of mates for fae, angels, and wolves

It was refreshing to see Bryce and Hunt come together out of true love as opposed to SJM’s usual trope of “oh they were destined so they have to be together”. Don’t get me wrong, I love her other couples too - but Bryce and Hunt have always been my favs bc of this fact.

Then, imagine my surprise when I see that Bryce and Hunt CHOOSE to be mates. Simply bc the title bf & gf didn’t work for them. THEN, they’re revealed to be true mates, and their love for one another simply forged this unbreakable bond where now they have the same strength (if not stronger) then preordained mates.

Here’s where the ACOTAR ships come in…

Now…i don’t care who mrs Maas decides to put together. I have loved every single couple she has produced so ik I’ll love the next inner circle couple. BUT ik in my heart of hearts and based off of common sense that it’s going to be Elain + Azriel

(Also pls keep in mind that the ACOTAR fae are the ancestors of the CC fae, which means whatever Bryce and Hunt can feel/do/etc, first originated or was discovered in the ACOTAR world) which means this true mates thing that Bryce and Hunt have can have originated with Az & Elain

CC3 takes place after ACOSF, where we all know there are things needing to be addressed. Bryce wakes up on the lawn of the townhouse where Az is and there’s fresh bread & roses in the air…then everyone else arrives later. Meaning Az was at the townhouse by himself…with the bread & roses (Elain).

Some of y’all might think that’s a stretch or irrelevant, but I think it’s fully intentional that SJM put CC3 before the next ACOTAR book. It’s bc everyone in the ACOTAR world up until this point has followed the rules of “be with your mate and love them”, but now Bryce is there as a clear example of having a mate not chosen by some stupid bowl, but by herself and her heart. Which is something I think will strike a chord with Elain and Azriel.

Az has NEVER been chosen, and I don’t think (even if gwyn is his mate or his backup singer or whatever y’all are calling her now) he will be satisfied by someone being thrown to him, forced to love him bc of a bond. He wants them to choose to love him like his dad and Mor didn’t (sry Mor stans but she didn’t, she admitted so herself in ACOWAR)

Rhys (sry cause I also dislike him after ACOSF) is just like Bryce’s bio dad and is trying to place a barrier between the couple in the name of politics and what is usually done, but just like Bryce (I.E. WHY THERE IS A BONUS CHAPTER W HER, AZ, AND NES (THE ONLY 2 (-Rhys) WHO WILL KNOW ABOUT AZ’s FEELINGS)) Az/Elain will choose to divert that standard, motivated by the love Bryce expresses for her chosen mate, Hunt.

Plus, can I mention y’all also acted this way with Cass met Emery at the end of ACOFAS…and thought they were gonna be together before ACOSF came out and now y’all are doing the same to Gwyn. I personally think Gwyn has been traumatized beyond belief by men, and I don’t think what she needs in her life to heal from that is the man that saved her from that trauma. She doesn’t need to be saved or reminded of that time in her life anymore. Like, girl could still not bring herself to leave the house of wind at the end of ACOSF. Idk about y’all but I wouldn’t fall in love with the cop who saved me from that kind of crime, I’d move on and find love for myself.

No matter if you’re a gwynriel stan or not, we can all agree that the kiss at the end of ACOSF cannot be ignored, and this relationship between Az and Elain has been building up for THREE BOOKS. Gwyn has only been here for one. Take it from me my lovely gwynriels, and be prepared for disappointment.

NOW, where does Lucien fit in all of this? I think Lucien takes the same stance as Ithan from CC. Elain doesn’t know the sassy, caring Lucien we know bc the only interactions she’s had with him were when he sold her out to Hybern (mind you: when she was ENGAGED) and when he’s been around her bc he felt this need due to a mating bond. It’s fair that she doesn’t love him, just like it’s fair that Bryce doesn’t love Ithan. Just because there’s a bond, in whatever form, doesn’t mean that entitles another to that female’s love.

Lucien deserves someone who wants to be with him and as a fan of his character, too, I don’t want him stuck with Elain. Especially when she’s made it so clear she doesn’t want him. I think Lucien accepting Elain going with Azriel will lead him back to the Spring Court (cause it’ll still hurt, and he’ll need space) and give y’all that Tamlin redemption arc you’ve been dying for for some reason.

Either way, the answer of who is Az’s mate is a big topic, so I think SJM doing the same thing with him that she did with Bryce and Hunt in CC2 would be so bomb. Plus, she’s always said that the books she writes will be with the female at the forefront, so sry babes, there’s no Azriel book.

So book 5/6 (incl ACOFAS) in the ACOTAR world will be Elriel, then it’ll be Morr/all of the couples, and the novella will probably be Spring Court (i.e., Vaasa/Tamlin/Lucien). Don’t quote me on anything past the next ACOTAR book, I’m just guessing on those

Anyway, that’s how I think it’s going to go but I’m not the author or anything, so take this as you will

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turboacek-blog · 3 months

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Random: I wouldn’t mind Katara x Zuko and Aang x Toph in the Netflix adaptation

So with the Netflix live-action Avatar series coming out soon, I figured I should get this thought out the way

Back when it was first announced I remember they said they were going to slightly age up Katara so that she would be essentially Zuko’s age and Aang would still be 12 (112) basically instead of her being 14 she would be 16 like Zuko

And people speculated that it’s because they want to do Zutara (Zuko x Katara)

Amongst a number of other changes that’s has been revealed in the pre show premiere life cycle like the recent info they’re getting rid of Sokka’s sexism

I’ve mentioned it before but I’ve became neutral on remakes and reboots and such

Which includes changing things from the original is fine as the original still exists

It’ll be ininteresting how they handle it as the original show had a sizeable focus on Aang liking Katara and I can see it shifting to just being friends but it would also change a lot of scenes involving the two as the Gaang's dynamic is the way it was because one of the threads is that Aang and Katara had the romance aspect

And without it, you will need to sell their friendship in a different way which can be fun with a more platonic take but I think it has to be done well as Aang getting upset he can hurt Katara with fire bending or just the Haru and Jet situations are different if there isn’t a potential romance brewing

And might be worse if it’s fully one-sided as in Aang still has a crush but Katara doesn’t like him in that way at all, which ties into the other ship's angle

Katara x Zuko

It can work, I don’t think the people who shipped them were just crazy fans putting two characters together, there’s evidence

But without the Aang influence, it can be weird if not handled well let alone how they handled a character like Mai

Aang x Toph

I think when people mention this, it’s mostly because she’s the only one who would likely still be in his age range meaning she's the most realistic option if Katara and side characters are off the table

And you can pull it off I think, from Aang being Toph’s first friend, and the mentor-student dynamic can be tweaked plus they also have an opposites attract dynamic like Zutara. And reshift the crush Toph had on Sokka and Zuko to Aang it's possible

I just think it’s a case of they would have to truly commit and not tease too much / if it gets some backlash don't double back to the original canon pairs as you would basically be a season behind

Like don’t still do AangxKatara stuff if they are really going to do ZukoxKatara as the endgame

2/2/24 edit:

@vibee2001 let me know the Katara aging up was a rumor and she's more than likely still going to be 14, while Sokka and Zuko are aged up 1 year so most of what I said doesn't matter lol

But since they have said it's going to lean more into the drama genre I think a lot of what I said can still be applied to leaning towards drama by having different pairings and such and the general they are making changes to some elements of the story like characters

#avatar #avatar the last airbender #atla #zutara #aang x katara #zuko x katara #aang x toph #netflix #netflix avatar #aang #avatar aang #katara #zuko #toph beifong #taang

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spade-riddles · 8 days

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The album and the Matty Healy of it all; the Allegory and a literary breakdown for you all :)

As an english girly, I am having the most fun dissecting this album. She wrote her entire story into the album. It’s an allegory, each song has two major interpretations, one is the obvious (matty/joe/travis/PATERNITY TEST) whereas the other is her truth. This is a literary device that has been used in writing throughout history since forever. Everything about this album is so intentional, especially the Matty Healy of it all. This album has been planned so meticulously, every move she’s made with the beards has been to directly tie into the songs and the references. She needed a heavily documented example, she wants people to believe it, so when she burns it all down she can say “look at how easy is was to construct a narrative, hide an allegory within it and watch no one get it, it’s happened my whole life”, this is why this album is so much louder to all of us than the rest of them, because we have always seen the second story but now she’s making it more obvious. But they will get it, the story in this album is so strong, she’s coming out and she’s made this so she can send people to look back at her music (lookin’ backwards/might be the only way to move forward- her entire catalogue is the manuscript) screaming “I told you, I laid it all out. You didn’t believe me!” This is the post mortem, every reason why she’s ‘dead’ (the inauthentic version) is laid out in the album.

For example, i’ll break down ‘Fortnight’ since we have the MV imagery too. On the surface is about her fling with MH. If you get down to the next layer it’s about the failed coming out & Karlie. About how she almost had it all “for a fortnight” (just a metaphor for a short time), how her plans got ruined and how she’s doing it over again. She was supposed to be sent away, she was meant to go stay in the asylum (the closet).

“Now you’re in my backyard, turned into good neighbours”.

She has Karlie so close to her, but hidden in her backyard, no one can see her in her backyard.

“Your wife waters flowers, I want to kill her.” There is something that is in the way of them being together, she wants it to end (her public narrative). Could also be a reference to JK, he gets to to be with Karlie, watering flowers in her garden (betty’s garden anyone) while Taylor watches, she wants to kill the perception of him as Karlie’s husband.

The rest of the song moves into Karlie & Taylor getting closer, they’re plotting a way out.

“Now you’re at the mailbox, turned into good neighbours, my husband is cheating, I want to kill him.” Again, Taylor’s husband is her public persona, she wants to kill it.

When you add in the music video, she’s breaking out of the asylum with her twin, then she was put right back in there and her twin is performing experiments on her. I think Post Malone represents both Taylor and Karlie at different points in the MV, because both of their own choices are also part of the reason they’re still closeted, she’s acknowledging this. But then something happens, one of them can’t do it anymore so they run away. This is the release of the album, specifically 2am 04/19 (fresh out the slammer), Taylor’s on top of the box, she’s out; this the endgame for her now, but Karlie is still stuck in the phone box (the closet). But not for long! 😘

Every single song is like this, there’s a very intricate but obvious second story. They’re not all about Karlie, there’s a lot about her childhood, other muses (thank you aimee is not about Kim, it’s about a hometown love), growing up, her fans, the industry, closeting, christianity, masters heist.

I’ll touch base quickly on ‘The Albatross’.

She’s coming to take down SB, i’m not sure 100% how but I think it has to do with the coming out and exposing everything he’s done to her to keep her in the closet for so long (it’s a lot darker than people think).

She is here to destroy him.

“Now you’re persona non grata” he’s not going to be able to work anymore, he’s going to be exiled from the music industry.

There’s always been the iffiness around the masters situation, people saying she was told prior, her insisting she wasn’t. The below is a confession (and a threat).

“Wise men once read fake news

And they believed it

Jackals raised their hackles

You couldn't conceive it

You were sleeping soundly

When they dragged you from your bed

And I tried to warn you about them”

She lied, she knew about the master situation but she said she didn’t. Her fans believed it though and they crucified him, she tried to warn him how powerful they were. She’s already embedded that image of him in their minds, so when the next thing comes out (lol), they’re going to raise absolute hell, his entire career is going to be over.

“thanK you aIMee”, the entire world right now thinks it’s about Kim Kardashian, because she capitalised ‘KIM’ in the title, there’s that line about her kid singing her song (which coincidentally did happen). It’s so obviously about her right! No, it’s another “blue dress on a boat”, something she has done throughout her whole career is splice monumental images of Taylor Swift ™ into her songs, so she can sing about her real life without being questioned. Except this time, she’s trying to make you question it, that’s why it’s so OBVIOUSLY 🙄 about Kim Kardashian. A red herring if you will 😉. It’s meant to point you towards one thing, when it’s really not about that thing at all.

tldr: everything about the album is intentional, she’s layered two narratives together on purpose. one at surface level, one a bit deeper.

Images are both Taylor’s & Aaron‘s words on the album, about hidden meanings and secrets.

And if you need any further proof, at exactly 4:19 of ‘The Tortured Poets Department’ title track, she says “who’s gonna troll you?”. The entire album is the troll, for the general public, it’s not about the men at all.

#submission

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devils-little-sista · 5 months

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Let’s be honest here. Percabeth is the only canon couple that is actually going to last a life time.

Most of these types of couples in the YA genres wouldn’t last a year.

Solangelo wouldn’t even last 6 months (there are many reasons it won’t last any significant amount of time I could go on for years and years so I’ll skip that part. Theyll grow apart and never talk again and almost forget each other. Once in a blue moon Nico will think of Will and think if he was normal they might have lasted. Will occasionally thinks of Nico and wishes he could’ve understood Nico better. They are not endgame. They are not significant in any way.

Jasiper wouldn’t last a year. Piper gets some therapy and does some soul searching and realizes it was just Heras spell and comphet and she likes girls. She breaks up with Jason. Jason is confused and heartbroken cause he thought things were going so well. Piper explains and Jason totally understands and is supportive but still heartbroken because he really did fall in love with her after the war. They still love each other platonically. Always thinking about each other They may take a little time apart from each other after they breakup (a couple months) but I think they would grow back together as best friends after Jason’s heart heals. They’ll be friends well into their adult years. They might travel in different directions eventually but they still catch up every couple of years or so.

Frazel would last until their young adult years and then they realize they want to figure who they are outside of each other and maybe see other people cause they were both so young when they got together. They’re curious and want to try new things and see the world from an individuals point of view. But they stay best freinds forever through everything. Their platonic bond is one that could never be separated by space and could never be broken by time. Neither of them could picture their life without the other. Platonically codependency. They still go everywhere together. Just not as a couple. They’re still enjoying their individual lives and experiences. And then when they’re middle aged and thinking about retiring in a couple years they fall back in love with each other and get married and happily ever after.

Caleo wouldn’t last a year. And the worst part is they don’t even technically break up. Calypso just gets really busy with everything else in her life and looses interest in Leo and she feels bad about it. She’s doesn’t break up with him because she doesn’t want to hurt his feelings. So she just kinda strings him along for the second 6 months of their relationship. And of course Leo knows something is up and is upset and keeps trying to spend more time with her and talk things through but Calypso just brushes him off always saying she’s too busy maybe another time and eventually just drops off the face of the earth and moves on with her life. Leo always wondered where she went and who she’s hanging out with and what kind of adventures she’s going on without him. Leo really did love her. And she was just temporarily hyper fixated on him.

In cannon Percabeth is endgame in every sense of the word. (Fannon can make that and all of the above change and be different of course but I’m talking about all of this in a cannon sense)

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