#this party is a minefield

[rebelspykatie]

Steve’s never had anyone show any genuine interest in the things he likes. Robin rolls her eyes when he brings up sports or silly movies that don’t have a bigger plot or character work. Even though she played soccer, she doesn’t care about it in the same way that Steve cares about basketball or football. 

The kids make fun of everything from his taste in music to his choice in snacks for movie nights. Mike calls him a little housewife for baking one time and he never shows up with cookies again. They’re never intentionally mean spirited, or at least he doesn’t think so. He knows he can give as good as he gets when it comes to catty, sarcastic comments, but he tries to steer clear of personal attacks on someone’s identity these days. He learned that lesson with Jonathan. 

But even before the party came along, it was like that. His parents never stuck around long enough to find out what he was up to, never attending a game or meet, and certainly in the dark about what he might be up to outside of school. Tommy only ever cared about himself and Carol, only following Steve around for clout, popularity by association. If he asked him right now, he’d bet a lot of money that Tommy doesn’t even remember his favorite food or the movie he used to watch when he was sick. There was a point where he thought he could share things with him. Until he realized mid ramble about sports cars that Tommy wasn’t even listening to him. He was staring at Carol and nodding along with a vacant expression. 

So he stopped sharing. Stopped caring if people knew anything about him because they never asked. People always made assumptions about him anyway. The girls he slept with only wanted one thing. The kids were happy to let him chauffeur them around with no questions asked. Robin was the only one he let in, the only one that cared about digging deeper. But, and she never said in so many words, he could tell that she thought his interests were mundane, and clearly not something that sparked any enthusiasm from her. She couldn’t even keep up with the girls he slept with, giving him the same bored stare as Tommy. 

Even now, after a few years, Steve’s reminded that they never would have become friends if not for trauma and the secret inner workings of the Russian’s within Hawkins. He’s lucky to have her, but he doesn’t think she ever would’ve chosen this, chosen him. And that’s fine. He’s used to not being chosen. His parents didn’t choose him when they started leaving him alone at age 12. Tommy and Carol chose each other and the reign of a new king when Steve fell from his throne. Nancy chose Jonathan. 

He doesn’t think he has a lot to offer. 

Well, at least until Eddie comes along. He’s taken by surprise when Eddie asks after the song that’s playing in his car. He’d assumed Eddie only liked metal music, and yeah he pokes fun at the genre of music Steve seems to stick to, begging him to give metal a shot, but he doesn’t say a word about how lame it is. When they’re having a movie night, Eddie notices that Steve gravitates towards coke and brings him one without Steve asking.

After Eddie sees his bedroom, Steve gets a pack of hot wheels for Christmas. Eddie jokes that he should give one to each of the kids as their new ride, since they seem to be ungrateful little twerps. Steve places them right under his posters on his dresser and Eddie grins at them every time he comes over. They lay in bed and pretend to drive them on the ceiling like they’re kids again. It shakes something loose in Steve’s chest. 

Eddie hates sports, but he invites Steve over on Mondays, when Wayne is perched in his chair for football. He quietly works on his campaigns while Steve and Wayne watch the games. Eddie somehow worms his way into Steve’s heart, digging deeper and deeper with each new thing, like he wants to know more. Steve’s history is a minefield, but Eddie expertly navigates through it, leaving who they were behind, building something new together. Steve’s already halfway in love with him before he even realizes that Eddie is something that he likes. 

He expects to freak out a bit more, but who is going to stop him? Who is going to care if he wants to be with this boy? He’s spent so long ignoring parts of himself for others that he wants to cherish this fragile thing, to cradle it in his hands, make sure no one can ruin it for him. When he kisses Eddie, it feels like coming home, like he’s finally found that place he’s been searching for his whole life. It’s a kind of devotion that Steve’s not used to, born of love and not obsession or jealousy or anger. 

He’s not sure he deserves it, but he’ll do everything in his power to keep it.

#steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #katie writes

[blackmoldmp3]

entering the ativan zone

#had a bad sleep woke up agitated then had to go thru the minefield of my nieces birthday party when my mom dislikes 3/4s of the other #grandparents. saw some slight discourse on the way home which tipped me over the edge in an embarrassing way so Now #it’s time to lay in the dark and play solitaire w my restricted substance

[nameless-ken]

Silent Confessions, Loud Masks - Billy Hargrove x Reader Series

(Please reblog!!!)

Happy reading! Comment below to be added to taglist.

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: lots of angst (what's new lol) & cursing

Introduction | Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five

Masterlist

(song for this chapter <3)

Expressing feelings for someone is like navigating a minefield of emotions, each step filled with uncertainty and potential pitfalls. Why isn’t it easier to speak what’s inside our hearts instead of dancing around the truth until it’s too late?

Billy’s confession sent your mind into a tailspin, your heart pounding in your chest like a drumbeat. Yet, when the moment came, your voice failed you, as if some invisible force clamped your mouth shut. 

Now, after a week and a half of silent contemplation, you've come to understand the tangled mess of emotions that kept you mute. Billy has morphed into an essential part of your life, straddling the line between friend and something more. Despite your unspoken desires, you've settled into a comfortable routine. You’re fine with being friends or whatever this situationship is because you’ve come to know a truth to it all. Never give more than you are willing to lose.

“I’m not understanding this chapter at all,” Billy's voice interrupts your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. “You okay?”

You nod, but your mind is elsewhere, lost in a whirlwind of worries. “This one does have some challenging plot points in it, but—”

“Can we stop with the bullshit?” Billy's tone is sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “I know something’s been eating at you for like a week now.” He leans in, his eyes searching yours with intensity.

You pause, feeling the weight of his gaze, and finally, the floodgates open. “I’ve just been stressed lately,” you admit, meeting his eyes with a mix of relief and trepidation. “Between helping my dad with bills, failing two tests, and college applications looming, it’s been overwhelming.”

“You know you can always tell me what’s going on. If you need help, I’m always here.” He looks around quickly before sliding his hand across the table to grab yours, giving it a squeeze.

“I know and I’m sorry I haven’t been myself lately.” 

“You don’t have to apologize for the hard shit.” Billy reassures you, his smile softening the edges of his words.

But before the moment can linger, Tommy and Carol intrude upon your private bubble. Billy withdraws his hand quickly and you feel a pang of disappointment, a silent plea for him to acknowledge what lies between you.

“Ready?” Tommy speaks up as he stands next to Billy’s chair, Carol’s arms wrapped around him. “This party tonight is going to be so wicked.” 

Billy nods, standing up with a forced smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

“See you around freak.” Tommy remarks to you and Carol snickers as they start walking off. 

“I’ll call you later.” Billy whispers once the pair is out of earshot. 

“I’m working late again so I won’t be home.” You cross your arms with a clear annoyed look on your face. Billy understands that look and nods. 

“See you tomorrow.” He mutters and leaves. You sigh heavily and gather your books, slinging the bag over your shoulder to head home and get ready for work. 

The exhaustion weighs heavily on you tonight, exacerbated by the bustling atmosphere of the restaurant. The dimly lit space is filled with the chatter of patrons, the clinking of silverware, and the occasional burst of laughter. The air is thick with the scent of sizzling food and brewed coffee, mingling with the faint aroma of cigarette smoke that lingers despite the no-smoking signs.

Amidst the crowd of diners, mostly comprised of older men, you navigate the maze of tables and booths, balancing trays laden with plates and cups. The ambiance is tainted by the persistent advances of these patrons, their leering gazes and suggestive remarks casting a shadow over your evening.

But amidst the chaos, there is Mary, a beacon of familiarity and comfort in the tumult of the restaurant. An older waitress with a kind smile and a knowing gaze, she always has your back. Having known your mother during her time at the restaurant, Mary often remarks on the striking resemblance between you and her.

Tonight, as you confide in Mary about Billy, she offers sage advice while handing you a plate and coffee cup to serve. The worn countertop serves as your refuge, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of the dining area.

“Do you really think he loves me?” You ask Mary as she hands you a plate and coffee cup to serve. 

“All I know from working so long around drunk men is that their sober thoughts really aren’t that much different from their wasted ones, especially when it comes to love,” Mary advises, her words carrying the weight of experience.

You place the plate and cup down for the customer at the countertop with a smile before turning back to Mary. “I'm at a loss for how to approach him. Billy's a complex guy, and I'm worried that if I lay my feelings out, it might push him away.”

“Darling, most men aren't angels after a few drinks.”

“Oh, he's not always like that when he's had a few. Just before that, he was in a heated argument. I couldn't even catch what set it off, but he was clearly riled up about something some guy said, and—”

“Sweetie, I have a feeling that guy's words were aimed at you.”

“What? No, nobody knows about us. I can't see how that could be related,” you respond, puzzled by Mary's interpretation of Billy's behavior.

“Are you sure about that?” Mary points behind you and you turn, finding Billy standing near the countertop with flowers in hand. You can’t help the instant smile that appears. 

“I thought there was a raging party going on tonight?” you tease, a playful glint in your eyes as Billy leans against the counter toward you.

“They’re all the same,” Billy responds with a chuckle, mirroring your stance as he leans closer. “Plus, there’s this girl who I’d rather spend my night with.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, heat creeping onto your cheeks despite your best efforts to conceal it. The air between you crackles with anticipation, the din of the restaurant fading into the background as you share this intimate moment.

“These are for you,” He extends the droopy flowers. “I saw them on the way here and thought you’d like them.” 

“Oh, I’ve never received flowers before,” You timidly grab the pink and yellow buds, placing them in one of your apron pockets. “Thank you. I don’t get off for another hour, if that’s okay.”

“I can wait.” Billy responds, pulling out a red stool at the counter and settling onto it. He reaches for the book you two have been reading together and flips it open.

You chuckle at the sight of him reading amidst the hustle and bustle of the restaurant. “Now that’s a sight to see.”

Billy grins, looking up from the book as you pour him a cup of coffee. “If you tell anyone, you’re dead,” he jokes, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You laugh at his playful threat, enjoying the easy banter between you. As you continue your work, the presence of Billy nearby fills you with a sense of comfort and contentment. 

“Go ahead sweetheart. I can close up the rest tonight.” Mary insists, practically pushing you out from behind the counter. 

“Thanks Mary.” You look out the window, seeing Billy resting against his car with a cigarette dangling between his lips. You untie your apron, hanging it on your designated hook. “See you tomorrow.” You wave to Mary and rush toward the door, flowers in hand as you make your way toward Billy. 

“Now that’s a sight.” You hear Billy mumble as you get closer. You glance at your feet as you stop in front of him. “Ready?” He quirks a brow, flicking his cigarette to the ground, stomping it with his boot. You nod and he helps you in the passenger side before getting in on his side. 

Late-night drives hold a special place in your heart, especially when Billy is by your side. The tranquility of the night seems to envelop him, stirring a gentle flutter in your chest.

As you both pull up outside your house, breaking the silence, Billy inquires about your college plans. "Where are you considering applying?" he asks.

"Still figuring it out. I'll likely end up accruing debt, so I'm researching to minimize it," you reply as you head inside, Billy trailing behind with more questions.

Perching on your bed, Billy continues his curiosity. "What about your field of study?"

"I'm drawn to photography, but practicality dictates otherwise for now," you explain, absentmindedly untangling your hair.

Billy compliments your talent. "Your photos are amazing. Anywhere would be lucky to have you."

Turning the tables, you ask about his plans. "And you, Billy?"

He leans back, contemplating. "College doesn't feel right for me. I'll probably go into a trade."

"You underestimate yourself," you reassure him before excusing yourself to change.

As you return, Billy's already made himself comfortable, his boots are already off and jacket slung over your desk chair. You catch him admiring your belongings, his hand lingering over a blanket atop a basket. 

"I could crochet one for you if you're interested," you offer, catching Billy off guard as he startles slightly, withdrawing his hand from the blanket, now standing tall.

"You made that?" His eyebrows arch with curiosity.

"Yeah, my mom taught me how to crochet. She made this one for my birthday before she passed away," you explain, reaching for the blanket she crafted, the one you always sleep with, as you settle onto your bed.

"It seems complicated and time-consuming," Billy remarks, joining you on the bed, leaning against the headboard.

"Not really, it's actually quite therapeutic," you reply.

"If you're ever in need of therapy, count me in for one," he quips, meeting your gaze.

You wonder if he senses the same charged atmosphere between you. His eyes draw you in like a magnet, his trademark smirk driving you wild every time he flashes it your way. His unruly curls framing his face perfectly, though never quite neat, drive you insane.

"Would you like to have dinner together tomorrow?" The question slips out unexpectedly, surprising even yourself, before you can second-guess whether it sounds like a date invitation.

"Sure, where should I meet you?" Billy responds, seemingly oblivious to any hidden implications in your question.

"How about here? I can cook something," you suggest, snuggling under your blanket, attempting to shield yourself from the awkwardness you feel.

"Sounds good to me," Billy agrees, his genuine smile lighting up his face. "You don't mind if I stay over tonight, right?"

"You're always welcome to stay."

With that, Billy slides under the blanket with you, and you don't resist the warmth that spreads through your body as he wraps his arm around your waist, your head finding its place against his chest.

"Goodnight, B," you murmur softly.

"Goodnight, little mouse," he replies, his lips curving into a smile against your head. You used to dislike that nickname, but now you've grown to love it. Just like him.

"Want to catch a movie tonight?" Robin suggests as you stroll together towards lunch.

"I can't, uh, I've got dinner plans," you reply, nudging open the cafeteria door, the cacophony of voices engulfing you.

"With who?" Robin probes as you join the line for food. Just then, Billy and his group pass by, your gaze lingering on him.

"Oh my god, you and Bi—" You quickly cover Robin's mouth, trying to hush her before she finishes his name.

"Shh! Not so loud," you whisper urgently.

"Ew! Have you kissed? No, wait, don't answer that!" Robin's eyes widen with excitement.

"Robin, seriously, it's not a big deal," you insist, leaning against the wall, stealing another glance at Billy. You see the way he plays with his food and the toothpick between his teeth, a habit he explained helps with his nicotine cravings during school. You even made sure to find flavored ones for him. He always keeps them in his jacket pocket. The memory brings a smile to your face.

"Um, it's a huge deal! You're going on a date with one of the most obnoxious guys in this school, whom, might I add, you confessed your love to, and he reciprocated, even though he conveniently seems to have forgotten, but that's beside the point. This is totally a date, and you know it," Robin insists.

"It's not a date," you protest, moving along the lunch line.

"It totally is," Robin persists, following you as you grab your lunch and head to your usual table, surrounded by fellow band members.

Your nerves start to jangle, the food suddenly less appetizing as you anticipate tonight. Your gaze drifts back to Billy, finding his eyes already on you. You offer him a small smile, which he returns. Tommy and Carol notice and start laughing like hyenas, causing you to turn away, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Billy's irritation reaches its peak, prompting him to take an unexpected action. The cafeteria's ambient noise diminishes, and the occupants around your table fall into an uneasy silence. Confused, you glance around, only to pivot at the sound of heavy footsteps drawing near.

"Hey, Y/N. Are we still on for tonight?" His unexpected question leaves you dumbfounded, and you can only manage a nod. His sudden boldness astonishes you, quickening your heartbeat as he finally acknowledges you in public, breaking free from his usual concealment.

Leaning casually on the table beside you, he lowers his face to be level with yours, enveloping you both in a bubble of quiet amidst the hushed cafeteria.

"Great. I'll see you later, little mouse." With a wink and his trademark smirk, he ignites gasps from the surrounding girls as he saunters away, indifferent to the attention. You find yourself gazing after him, oblivious to the murmurs circulating the cafeteria.

Robin's tug on your arm snaps you out of your reverie. "Holy shit! It's definitely a date," her excitement mirroring your own astonishment.

You make an effort to tidy up as best you can, even though Billy has been over countless times and never seemed to mind the state of your home.

"Haven't seen this place so clean in a while," your dad remarks as he emerges from his room, already dressed for work.

"Just thought I'd spruce it up," you reply, wiping down the dining table, a piece of furniture seemingly frozen in time since your mom passed away.

"I'll be working late again," your dad mentions, tying his shoes as you turn to face him.

"Have you thought about Thanksgiving? Any word from Y/S/N?" you inquire, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy despite the underlying sadness that always accompanies conversations with him.

"I'll have to put in longer hours that week. I'll give you some money for food," he responds, and you fight back tears that threaten to spill over, a familiar ache settling in your chest.

"Okay, no worries. Have a good night at work," you manage, turning away to hide the tear that betrays your composure. You wait for his acknowledgment, but only the sound of the front door closing signals his departure.

With a few hours to spare before Billy arrives, you retreat to your room, journal in hand, seeking solace in the pages. 

Your relationship with your dad is a labyrinth of complexities, once filled with warmth and tenderness before your mom's passing stripped it away, leaving behind a void that seems impossible to bridge, especially during your teenage years.

You can't blame him or your absent sister, though the resentment lingers. The idea of leaving after graduation claws at your conscience, knowing it would only deepen your father’s sadness. No matter how many bad memories Hawkins has for you, this will always be home. 

It’s where you were born and raised. It’s where your old house is with a huge driveway where your father taught you and your sister to ride bikes together. It’s where your mom would take you for ice cream after a bad day. It’s where your mom got sick, she spent most of her last days in the hospital. It’s where she’s buried up in East Hawkins, beside your grandparents. It’s where you saw your sister start to rebel and flee, to never return. It’s where you saw your father’s smile disappear completely. It’s where the quietness and loneliness grew inside you for the longest time. 

Until you met Billy. 

Billy has submerged himself so deep into your life now that every feeling is finally starting to rise to the top. 

But it’s not the feeling of panic, it’s more of a relief. Every day or hour you spend with Billy, it feels like you’ve reached the top. He’s breathed a new life into you and you want to breathe that air for the rest of your life.

Closing your journal, you wipe away the tears, feeling a surge of intense emotions. With a few deep breaths, you compose yourself, stowing away your journal before returning to the kitchen. Amidst the flickering candlelight, you begin to cook, finding solace in the simple act to take your mind off of things. 

You steal a glance at the clock on your wall for the third time, each passing minute feeling like a weight in the pit of your stomach.

With each tick, the realization settles in: Billy forgot.

Despite your anticipation for tonight, after his triumphant performance at school, he forgot.

Anger and heartache surge within you, compelling you to extinguish the candles and discard the food, the remnants of your dashed hopes and shattered expectations. You abandon the mess, retreating to your bed instead.

Curling up with your handmade blanket, tears stream down your cheeks as you gaze at the photograph of your mom on the bedside table.

"He didn't mean to, right? He's still good, isn't he?"

The next morning, you dial Robin for a ride to school, fully aware that you'd probably stay home if not for her.

"I'm going to give him a piece of my mind. When I lay eyes on him, he's done for!" Robin declares, slamming her hand on the steering wheel in frustration.

You sit beside her in silence, avoiding dwelling further on Billy's absence. She parks in an empty spot, and you instinctively scan the area for his blue Camaro, finding none. A sigh of relief escapes you as you step out of the car and follow Robin into school.

"I always knew he was still the biggest jerk in Hawkins," Robin continues her tirade about Billy.

"Can we just try to forget about it today?" you interject as you navigate through the bustling main hallway.

"Fine, but I can't guarantee what'll happen when I see his face," Robin replies, her tone still seething with anger.

Though you want to agree with her, you remain silent as you reach your locker. "I'll be right back," Robin says, heading to her own locker.

As you gather your books, you overhear snickers behind you. Turning around, you're confronted by a group of unfamiliar girls giggling and casting glances in your direction.

“No wonder he slept with Heather.” 

"Yeah, like she’d actually ever have a chance with him."

“Do you think she knows he was at the party last night?” 

"Probably not, otherwise she wouldn't dare show her face around here today."

“How humiliating, being stood up by Billy Hargrove and not knowing he slept with Heather instead.” 

The words sting, and you feel a wave of humiliation wash over you. How could he do this to you?

You scan the surroundings, noticing the whispers of your name intertwined with Billy's and Heather's. The tightness in your chest and the shallowness of your breaths propel you outside, desperate to escape the humiliation suffocating you.

As you step into the open air, the familiar roar and screech of Billy's sports car pierce through, reigniting your panic. Frantically, you search for a hiding spot, cursing the town for its lack of concealment amidst the cornfields and vast open spaces.

Before you can flee, Billy rushes toward you, not caring who he bumps into on the way. 

"Y/N! Damn it, I'm so sorry—" he begins, but you instinctively retreat, needing distance.

"Please don't," you interrupt, stepping away from him.

"Y/N, please, I feel terrible about last night. It was the worst and—" Billy attempts to explain, desperation coloring his voice.

“Apparently to everyone else, you had a great time last night.” you retort bitterly.

"What?" Billy's confusion is palpable as he tries to approach you, but you evade him once more.

"I guess you and Heather had a blast while I waited until 11," you accuse, moving to leave.

"Y/N, please, just let me explain," Billy implores, blocking your path and holding your shoulders. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, fixating on his shirt.

"I got into a huge fight with my dad, got pissed, and went to a party. I only meant to stay for a bit, but I guess I lost track of time," he confesses.

"And ended up with Heather," you interject sharply.

"Y/N, I never meant to hurt you. I don't even remember anything from last night. I'm so sorry," Billy pleads, his anguish evident.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" you demand, your voice laced with hurt.

"Of course not. I just... I don't know. I'm just so sorry for not being there. I should've come to be with you after the fight with my dad," he admits, regret etched in his features.

"Yeah, you should've," you agree, turning away. Robin stands on the sidewalk, waiting for your signal to intervene.

“Y/N, what can I do? How can I make this better?” Billy pleas, watching you depart, a tear slipping down his cheek.

"Time," you respond, glancing back at him, feeling a pang of sorrow at his tear-streaked face. "I need time."

Your voice wavers as you walk away, leaving Billy standing alone. Robin opens her arms for you, sensing your pain and tears beginning to fall.

"Asshole!" Robin shouts at Billy as she guides you back to her car.

Inside the car, you steal a glance at Billy, witnessing his anguish as he covers his face with his hands.

In that moment, you realize you've never simultaneously hated and loved someone as intensely as you do right now.

Taglist: @msbillyhargrove @uselessbutinteresting @milestellergfs @ghostcastaway @missingbillyhargrove @lotionlamp @billys-pretty-babe @isimpfortoomanypeople @rosey96 @girlwifteef @miheartsedthings @empathyroad @notzoey @iletmytittiestitty-russ @the-ch0sen-on3

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[fullmoonandstar]

Raphael going to a noble party of some kind, disguised as a human, in order to find and schmooze with current and potential clients. While engaging with one such individual who seems particularly taken with him, from across the room he spots Tav, for once not dressed in adventurer's gear but decorated with finery. The Hero of Baldur's Gate is so radiant that, at a glance, one could be forgiven for mistaking the mortal as an angel in disguise. However, like the cambion, Tav also has noble-born partygoers vying for the adventurer's attention, asking (and more often than not being granted) a dance with the hero, and perhaps gossip of nobles approaching the hero with dowry proposals and attempts at wooing this illustrious guest begin to reach the fiend's ears.

*Drops this and runs away*

Evening among Wolves

Raphael x afab!Reader Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Rating: R Word count: 2.4 k CW: 2nd person pov, vaginal sex, desk sex, mentions of drinking

My Masterlist

The dress pinched in all the wrong places, and you shifted your weight with a stiff smile plastered on your face. How did noble women survive a whole evening in these shoes? They forced your toes into an unnatural position, and the pain was slowly giving way to numbness. The young man across from you blatantly stared at every centimetre of exposed skin, and you looked away, a ball of emotion forming in your gut. There were only three things that were good about now, the elegant way your hair was pinned up, the smell of the perfume you had put on and the drink in your hand.

The woman next to you was only marginally at hiding her stares than the other son of a noble across from you. You had been swarmed the moment word had spread that the hero of Baldur’s Gate had arrived, and you have been stuck in conversations for what felt like an eternity. Any battlefield would be preferable to this pit of vipers. This may look like a party, but in reality this was a minefield, and you had to survive until the end of the night without being stuck in an arranged marriage or having started an all out war between the factions of nobility. Both of which were very real possibilities.

A shadow passed in the periphery of your vision and a warm hand hovered over your exposed back so close you could feel the warmth but not touching. A velvety voice purred in your ear: "Good to see you again, little mouse."

Your head snapped in his direction, and your eyes confirmed your ears. Raphael hovered over your shoulder, and he flashed a smile at you before turning to the irritated nobles.

"I hope you don’t mind, dearest lords and ladies, but we have some urgent business to attend to."

The nobles in the circle grumbled, and all eyes were on you. What was he doing? You looked up into the devil’s handsome face, one eyebrow raised with the same question as everyone else. This was a way out. These nobles were irrational in their whims, at least with Raphael you knew what you had to expect.

"Yes, of course," you smiled stiffly. Raphael gestured to the left and you followed. He left the ballroom into the hallway where the crowd was noticeably thinner, and you took a deep breath. The atmosphere in there had been suffocating you.

You followed Raphael around a corner and up some stairs.

"I don’t think we’re supposed to be here." you warned.

"Since when has that stopped you?" he shot back but smirked.

"Fair enough."

He stopped in front of a door, and you heard a click before Raphael pushed the door open. It looked like a library, but Raphael didn’t stop in the room but opened the door to the balcony. The lights of Baldur’s Gate lay beneath, and the sound of the party downstairs wafted up. You just had to smile at the view over your home. The citizens had worked hard to rebuild in the past year, and soon the city would be back to former glory.

You glanced to the side where Raphael was leaning on the baluster looking out over the city. The black clothes were embroidered with gold and red, and he looked the more like nobility than all the people downstairs. You had never told anyone about the way your stomach twists when you look at his face, they would call you mad and they would be right. Raphael was in the business of charming people out of their souls, and given the status he had risen to despite being half mortal, he was exceptionally good at it.

"If you stare at me any longer, you might burn a hole in my face." he taunts softly.

Your face instantly burned with embarrassment, and you focus on the city again.

"Do you know why I’m so effective at what I do, pet?" he asked.

Because you bamboozle people with your charm? You thought, but out loud you said: "You talk a lot."

A soft laugh tickled your ear and you stiffened. Your whole body tingled with how close he was to you, and you felt stupid for the warmth that spread between your legs.

"I know exactly what everyone wants."

His fingers ghost over the exposed skin of your arms, and you hold your breath, waiting for his skin to make contact. It never comes. Raphael takes a step back and motions for you to follow.

The balcony leads to other rooms on this floor, and Raphael opens the door to one of them. A huge desk dominates the room and the high-backed chair rounded out the ensemble.

"Fielding's office." You breathed. "What are we doing here?"

Raphael stepped closer to the monstrosity of a desk and turned to you. In the faint light that fell in through the windows you could only make out his sharp ever so slightly lighter than the darkness behind him.

"I told you, little mouse, I know what you want."

You crossed your arms.

"And what’s that?"

"Let me paint you a picture." - you rolled your eyes, but Raphael continues -"Lord Fielding, one of the most influential people in Baldur’s Gate since Baldurean himself. He swayed the election of Gortash to become Archduke, he orchestrated the embargo 5 years ago that cost countless lives in and around the city. He does his best to keep the weak where they are, poor and dying, and widens the gap between them and his elite."

"Isn’t that right up your lane?"

A chuckle reached your ear.

"This is not about me." he said. "You hate him."

You didn’t argue with that.

"You want to get back at Lord Fielding, but doing anything drastic could make you plenty of enemies and plunge the city into chaos for the next decades."

"The evil you know," you said.

"Yes."

"So, what is your suggestion?" you ask.

"You can’t move against him, but that doesn’t stop you from doing something disrespectful."  You could hear the smirk in his voice, even if you could not see it.

"And what has that to do with you?"

"I’m going to participate."

With a step, he entered your personal space, the smell of his perfume, sweet and spicy, tickled more than just your nose. You wished you could blame the drinks for the wetness that pooled in your underwear, but alas you could not. His fingertips ghosted over your cheek and leaving a trail of heat.

"What do you say?" he asked.

You didn’t understand what he was saying, you were too focused on the feeling of his hot skin against yours. Blood was rushing in your ears and your heart hammered in your chest as if you were an adolescent again. You swallowed heavy.

"What kind of disrespectful thing do you mean?"

His face was close enough that you could see his eyebrow creep up his forehead. Raphael pushed the chair to the side. His hand gently held on to your hip, and you followed as he manoeuvred you to stand between him and the desk. You yelped and grabbed the fabric at his chest as he lifted you up onto the free space on the desk and his hips touched your knees, but Raphael didn’t force himself between your legs. His hands rested on the sides of your thighs. Your heart beat in your throat and a warm wave rolled over you.

"I see." you said. His thumbs gently rubbed over the fabric that still covered your legs and waited for your answer. Fucking on Fielding’s desk was indeed disrespectful, but doing it with Raphael?

Every nerve in your body tingled with awareness, the heat from his skin sank into yours and boiled your blood with a need you only ever allowed yourself to feel at night when you were alone. Something had to be deeply wrong with you that you were so attracted to him, but your mind had no part in the decision your body made. You crossed your hands behind his neck and pulled him in, crashing your lips together. For a heartbeat, Raphael was frozen in place and a flash of anxiety and disappointment rushed through you. In the next moment, his hips pushed between your knees, and you spread your legs for him. The half hard erection pressed against your clothed core, and you gasped, the perfect opportunity for Raphael to slid his tongue into your mouth. He explored your mouth, mapping it out as if he wanted to commit it to memory. Heat was rising in your veins, and you tangled the fingers of one hand in his soft hair while the other slid down. Ever since the first time you had seen him, you had wondered how his body would feel like. The lines on his face made him look like a middle-aged human, and you had expected him to be a bit soft, but the chest under your palm was firm muscles.

A sharp pain in your lower lip drew a yelp out of your throat. Raphael had nipped at your lip while pulling back.

"You’re quite handsy, little mouse."

He took half a step back, and you managed not to whine in disappointment.

"I’m not leaving." The taunting tone could not cover up the reassurance in his words.

In the dim light you could not see what he was doing, and you wished you could light a candle in here, but if anyone saw the flame flicker under the door, your time alone with the devil of your dreams would be cut short.

His hands were back on your thighs and his hips between your legs. Your hands landed on his chest, but this time hot skin met your palms. Your legs twitched in response, and Raphael smiled against your cheek before his mouth moved along your jaw, leaving a trail of hot kisses.

His hips pressed into you and wrapped your legs around his waist.

"Someone’s eager."

His breath fanned over your pulse point and a shudder shook your body.

"Yes," you admitted, earning you a growl from Raphael. He pushed the skirt of your dress up your thighs, removing a barrier of fabric from between you two. His mouth moves along your collarbone, and for the first time that evening you were thankful for the low neckline. The biting and sucking only tightened the coil of your need, and you wanted nothing more than have him inside you. Your hands ran down the hard muscles of his body, reaching the ham of his trousers, and gingerly proceeded further. You held your breath as you traced the outline of him through the fabric, your mind spinning with the half moan, half growl that escaped his throat.

"I got the message." he pressed out between his teeth, his hip twitching into your palm once.

His hands found your underwear, you lifted your hips, and he pulled them down your legs. You hoped he didn’t just drop them on the floor for someone to find in the morning. He slid between your thighs again and your hands were on his trousers, ready to push them down. Raphael didn’t stop you.

His length was heavy and hot in your hands. The world shrank to the size of the space between you two, even the sounds of the party downstairs faded, and his rugged breaths were the only things you could hear. You could not think. The only thing you wanted was him inside of you, and it was within your power to make that a reality. You guided the tip to your entrance, and Raphael inhaled sharply.

His hand cupped your cheek, and he breathed: "Who knew you were so needy, pet?"

A flash of fear ran through you. What if he left you right now?

"I’m going to give you everything you want."

He pushed in with a single hard thrust, and you gasped at the sudden stretch. His hands grabbed your breasts and his hips set a slow, harsh rhythm. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you pressed your lips shut, trying not to make too much noise. Raphael’s hands kneaded your breasts just right, and you whimpered after a well-placed thrust, then his hands were gone. The thrusts cease coming, and he moves something behind you.

"What -?"

He pushed your back to the desk, and his strong hands loosened your legs from around his waist. His mouth left a trail of hot kisses from your knees to your ankles before holding, resting your legs against his body. The position made his length inside you feel even more of a tight fit, and he resumed his thrusts. Your nails scratched against the wood of the table, unable to do anything else while his hips collided with yours again and again. The pleasure in your body was like a kindling ready to ignite.

"Please." you breathed, not sure for what you were pleading.

Raphael chuckled and it sparked anger in you. You pushed your upper body up from the desk and snarled: "Don’t you dare laugh."

He planted a kiss on your ankle and let your legs fall open, leaning in until you felt his hot breath on your face.

"Don’t worry, my little mouse, I won’t tell anyone, you begged me to fuck you into oblivion."

You could only guess that there was a smirk on his face, and you let out a disapproving huff. He must have felt how close you were to just shoving him off you and leaving because his fingers slipped between your bodies and his lips caught yours in a heated kiss. His fingers stroked your sensitive clit in time with the stroke of his tongue, and his thrusts changed to a delicious angle. You moaned into his mouth, so close to breaking.

"You feel downright sinful, my dear, quivering around me."

His low voice made all the hairs on your body stand on edge. Your fingers grasp for him and your nails dig into his biceps. Your whole body tensed, so close.

"So strong, so powerful," he cooed, every thrust, every stroke of his fingers could be the one.

"But right now, you are mine, little mortal."

His breath fanned over your heated skin.

"Let go for me." he said, and you shattered.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #raphael the cambion #raphael bg3

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Masterlist 

The Flip Side (on hiatus)

Part: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7, 8,  9, 10, 11,  12

Ao3

Silver Springs

Part: 1,  2 ,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9, 10, 11, 12 (completed)

Ao3 

Growing Pains (post mob-life fic -- in progress)

Part: 1,  2,   3,   4

Ao3

Silver Spring AU Drabbles

Ao3

Little Nat Adventures :)

Rescue ~ Adopting Boone 

Rivals ~ Y/n meets another mobster

Couched ~ Wanda gets in trouble

Recon ~ Wanda and y/n meet 

Sushi ~ First date

Burn out ~ Wanda gets sick

Faux pas ~ Pietro gets drunk

Midnight ~ Wanda visits after being away for work 

Surprise ~ Wanda gives Y/n a gift

Graduation ~ Wanda crashes a graduation party. (18+)

Decoy ~ Y/n and Wanda get a new addition to the family 

Bickering ~ Grocery shopping 

Nine lives ~ Fletcher visits the vet 

Don’t Blame Me ~ Y/n witnesses Wanda’s drug deal. (18+)

Sunrise ~ Proposal 

Crisis ~ Finding out we’re pregnant

Caught ~ Wanda gets in trouble…again

Dreams ~ Y/n deals with old demons 

Training ~Y/n and Wanda spar

K.O. ~ Y/n and Wanda spar part 2. (18+)

Trials ~ Navigating pregnancy and parenthood 

Not As Expected ~ Wanda has her baby

Role Reversal ~ Y/n, the mob boss

Intruder ~ Coming home to an unpleasant surprise 

Field work ~ Boone helps Wanda at work

Broke ~ Y/n is introduced to the darker side of Wanda’s job

Ambush ~ Y/n and Wanda have the odds stacked against them

Wrath ~ Wanda comes to Y/n’s rescue 

It ~ Movie night with Wanda

Birthday ~ Y/n celebrates a birthday

Minefield ~ Y/n meets Bucky

Aberration ~ Y/n meets Nat

Nerves ~ Y/n and Wanda get married 

Reunion ~ Y/n and Wanda go to a high school reunion

Reunion pt. 2 ~ Y/n sets things right with Wanda

Repair ~ Y/n fixes the dishwasher and Wanda is very grateful. (18+)

Ennui ~ Wanda comes out to her brother 

A Night Out ~ Y/n meets Pietro 

First Time ~ Y/n gets a tracker 

First Time pt. 2 ~ Y/n and Wanda begin to recover 

Troublemaker ~ The dogs’ babysitting skills are put to the test 

Anonymous ~ Pietro receives a disturbing letter 

Night In ~ Y/n is left in charge

Girls Trip ~ Y/n takes a trip to the beach with some friends

Serendipity ~ Y/n meets Wanda’s high school crush

Serendipity pt. 2 ~ Aftermath of Wanda’s reunion. 

Reminiscing ~ Wanda’s midnight musings 

Preparations ~ Y/n and Wanda get ready for their baby 

Infidelity ~ Wand realizes her wife is hiding something.

I Did Something Bad ~ Wanda carries out a hit

Abduction ~ An outing with Boone goes wrong  

Struggles ~ Real world attention problems

Traffic ~ Y/n and Wanda travel abroad

Mama ~ Just another weekly dinner with the fam

Cross The Line ~ Wanda takes her wife to a club

Anniversary ~ Y/n spends a special day with Wanda

Honeymoon ~ How Y/n and Wanda spend the last night of their honeymoon (18+)

Better Than Cake ~ Y/n and Wanda celebrate a birthday (18+)

Out of Commission ~ Wanda breaks her wrist 

Kinks ~ Pietro brings his sister a gift

Road Kill ~ Y/n learns something new about Wanda

Stealth ~ Y/n has a lapse in judgement

If Anyone Falls ~ Y/n and Wanda’s first time together ❤️ (18+)

Appreciation ~ A break from taking care of new baby Natalya

2, 4, 6, 8... ~ Pietro misunderstands his sister-in-law’s intentions 

Separation ~ Wanda makes a horrible mistake while arguing with her wife

Separation pt. 2 ~ Continuation of part 1  

Competition ~ Wanda catches her wife with another woman

Late Night ~ Wanda catches onto her wife’s sleepless nights

Coming home ~ Fletcher’s adoption

Feud ~ Wanda betrays her wife

Playdate ~ Boone and Fanny hang out at the compound

A Day in the Life ~ Y/n and Wanda go out

Nightmares ~ Wanda wakes up to an unpleasant surprise 

Cocaine Bear ~ Movie night

Wild ~ Y/n gets an unpleasant surprise 

Blackout ~ Y/n's first experience with expensive tequila

Phoenix ~ Lazy Sunday musings 

HBC ~ Y/n and Wanda take Boone to the farmer’s market

Brawl ~ Y/n trains with a recruit

Graze ~ Y/n finds herself in a shootout without Wanda

Decompress ~ Wanda helps her girlfriend relax after a hard day at work. 

Sick Leave ~ Y/n is forced to take some time off of work

Rainbow Bridge ~ Dog-centric drabble 

Trade off ~ Y/n saves Wanda’s life 

Breach ~ Natalya first break-in

Triage ~ Aftermath of Breach 

Stunts ~ Wanda makes a mistake 

Limbo ~ Important relationships landmarks 

Storms ~ Disruptive late night thunderstorms 

Karma ~ Family getaway

Negotiations~ Y/n sneaks out one night 

House call ~ Y/n receives an unconventional offer

Mile High Club ~ Y/n and Wanda fly to Europe

Better Help ~ Y/n goes to therapy 

Pretty Girls ~ Heart eyes 

Staying In ~ A Lazy Sunday

The Sticks ~ Wanda needs a favor 

Something old, something new ~ New adventures 

Insomnia ~ Sleepless nights

Alternate endings

Too late ~ Y/n dies

Laid to rest ~ Y/n dies part 2  

Complications ~ Wanda dies 

Headcanons: (where I will ramble about my favorite alternate universe)

Silver Springs AU

#masterlist #silver springs #silver springs au #silver springs au drabbles #silver springs headcanons #mob au #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #the flip side

[deconstructthesoup]

Fantasy High Good Place AU

I am very happy that y'all voted for this, because it's been living in my brain rent-free for the past couple weeks.

So, right off the bat---this is partially self-indulgence, and partially a little exploration of what the Bad Kids would be like as adults if they hadn't found each other... and, well, if they were living in a more mundane world. And, of course, I had to combine and add a couple roles, just to make everyone fit.

Fig: She's in the Eleanor role as the main POV character, and as the first person who decides to learn how to be better. In life, she was a twenty-seven-year-old musician living in Phoenix, Arizona who was still trying to find her big break, and got by via drug-dealing after a string of shitty service jobs. Fig hasn't spoken to her mom in years, even after both Gilear and Gordie (aka Gorthalax) have both died, and she put up a front of selfishness and constant lies due to not trusting anyone and being afraid of being vulnerable. But when she dies and supposedly gets mistaken for a pro-bono death-row lawyer, she realizes that she's gotta ask for help...

Ayda: She's in the Chidi role---a high-strung ethics professor who devoted her life to figuring out the deep secrets of the universe, often at the cost of her own mental health. She's not as indecisive as Chidi, but she's very much of the mindset that ethical standards should always be upholded, and she initially sees nothing wrong with the points system. As Ayda becomes closer to Fig, she starts to pick up on how the system doesn't count for extenuating circumstances, and how much of an actual minefield ethics is... and she starts to reflect on her own life, where she never knew how to connect with others and stayed in her comfort zone of academia. Throughout bonding with the others, she slowly learns how to let her walls down and challenge the system.

Fabian: He's in a Tahani role, as the upper-class socialite who pretty much bought his way into "heaven" and definitely has a bunch of narcissistic tendencies. Unlike Tahani, however, he's very much aware of his own failings, and he constantly stresses about how fragile his standing and happiness is---though, he's become incredibly good at hiding it. Fabian's pretty much been living in the shadow of his late father's legacy for his whole life, and he spent most of that life trying to be just as good, if not better, than him... so, when he supposedly gets into the "Good Place," it's essentially proof that he did everything right. Of course, that still doesn't keep him from feeling like there's something amiss, especially since there's some issues with his assigned soulmate...

Riz: In life, Riz was a P.I. who mostly did petty work for rich people and got used to doing things that were vaguely shady in order to get by. By the time he died, he had a very low opinion of people in general, and had a "dog eat dog" mindset... which was immediately blown out of the water the second he realized that he'd been mistaken for a brilliant secret agent, and he was going to spend his afterlife with a self-centered rich boy as romantic soulmates. Riz being Riz, he immediately started to figure a way out of this situation, eventually finding out Fig---and one other person---and agreeing to take Ayda's ethics lessons if it meant he could earn his spot in the Good Place... though, of course, he's still subconsciously picking up on the little hints that something is off.

Kristen: She's in the "Jason" role... sorta. When she was alive, she was a former member of a conservative Christian cult who left when she was nineteen, spent the next five years trying to find another truth to pursue, and spent the last three years of her life partying her problems away and living high on nihilism. So it was quite a shock for her when, after dying, she supposedly got sent to the Good Place... and only because they thought that she's a humanitarian pastor, and straight to boot. Kristen initially doesn't want to waste time with ethics lessons, but as more and more things start to go wrong, she reluctantly agrees---and ends up reconnecting with that curious, searching part of herself that she thought she'd left behind, over and over again.

Gorgug: When he was alive, he was a physicist who made a lot of impressive discoveries---many of which had the potential to really help people---but due to the fact that he had a lot of issues with standing up for himself and believed himself to not be as smart as he actually was, he tended to let himself get taken advantage of and have other people take credit for his work. Getting into the Good Place kind of confirmed Gorgug's belief that keeping your head down and being humble would pay off eventually... until his assigned soulmate immediately told him that she was a) gay, and b) here by mistake. The two of them do become pretty good friends, and Gorgug even sits in on some of Ayda's ethics lessons, learning a bit about himself as he does.

Adaine: She's Janet---or, rather, an "Oracle," one of many informational assistants made by the Good Place (the Bad Place has Informants, while Accountants have Librarians). Every Oracle is given a name upon being activated in order to distinguish her from others, and, well, hers is Adaine. She starts off as your typical cheery, happy-to-help living Siri, but as time goes on and she gets rebooted over and over again, she starts to form genuine connections with the humans, and with connections come actual feelings... including the rise of mild anxiety. Adaine's grateful for that, though, as she sees becoming more human as an incredible experience.

Aelwyn: Honestly... there was no other character who was bitchy, multifaceted, and weirdly loving enough to be Micheal. At first, underneath her quirky and "cool older sister" angel persona, she's every bit the callous, vindictive, and cruel demon who only lives to torment human souls and prove her worth to her boss. But reboot after reboot, she fails, the humans become closer and figure her out... and she's eventually forced to cave. Aelwyn never fully loses her bitchiness and slightly amoral nature, but she does develop a heart and self-awareness as she becomes friends with the humans---and as she forms a sisterly connection with Adaine. Even a demon can learn to grow.

I have more thoughts, but I've spent a lot of time figuring out how to make this coherent, so... yeah!

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #the good place #fig faeth #ayda aguefort #fabian seacaster #riz gukgak #kristen applebees #gorgug thistlespring #adaine abernant #aelwyn abernant #figayda

[canonbibuckley]

this is part 1 of my catholic guilt eddie/buddie wip! (working title) i've previously posted small snippets here and here, but this one today is the opening scene!

At the end of the night, after Tommy swoops in and saves the day, delivering Chimney to the altar by chopper, after the vows and kisses are exchanged, after people have eaten and danced and drank and celebrated—

At the end of the night, Eddie finds Buck. 

He’s standing alone at the edge of the garden, watching people dance. The party is starting to break up, the crowd thinning out. There’s something wistful and sad in Buck’s expression, and Eddie finds himself walking over to him before he even thinks about it. 

“Where’s Tommy?”

The man had been here earlier. After the heroics, he had stayed for a while. Eddie had watched as he and Buck danced together without meaning to, drawn to the two of them slow dancing to the band Maddie hired. Eddie had caught Buck’s eye over Tommy’s shoulder and lifted his glass in a toast. Buck’s nose had crinkled in disgust. How are you drinking right now? he seemed to ask, which made Eddie’s stomach roll in turn, his hangover roaring back to life. He shook his head and pointed to the gatorade bottle on a nearby table. Eddie watched as Buck’s mouth went crooked like it did when he was trying not to laugh.

Tommy had glanced over his shoulder, then. There was something in his gaze when he made eye contact with Eddie, something calculating that had Eddie looking away. 

He didn’t know what to do with the flush of embarrassment he felt. Like he had been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. He left them to it, slinking away to where Marisol was waiting for him inside.

Now, though, he’s standing with Buck alone.

“Tommy left.”

“He had to return the chopper, huh?” Eddie tries to joke, but Buck doesn’t react. 

“He said…” He watches as Buck takes a deep breath. “Tommy and I—It’s not going to work out.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to do with that. “What? I thought you said the second date went well.”

“It did.”

“And then Tommy flew in here, delivering Chimney to save the day. I thought you’d be into all that knight in shining armor schtick.”

“I was. Am.”

“So?”

“It’s just… not going to work.”

“That sucks, I’m sorry man,” he says lamely. “I’d offer you a drink, but.” Buck doesn’t laugh. “Do you want to come over later?”

“I probably shouldn’t,” Buck says, and there’s — something in it that Eddie can’t identify. 

“Maybe this weekend, then.”

“Listen,” Buck runs a hand through his hair. Eddie resists the urge to smooth it back down when it sticks up. “Tommy said something before he left, and I—I think he might be right.” There’s a pinched quirk to his lip. “He said that it wasn’t going to work out between us because it’s obvious I’m caught up in my feelings for someone else.”

There’s a whisper of a thought in the back of Eddie’s mind that fills him with dread; he refuses to think it. “Who, Natalia?”

“No.”

“Taylor, then.” It made the most sense, it had been Buck’s longest relationship. The sting of their breakup had lingered. Her betrayal of Buck’s trust had hurt them all, and even if Eddie never liked her, it’s obvious that Buck loved her. Even though the thought of her coming back into their lives made him want to vomit.

But Buck — Buck looks at him with this look in his eye, and he’s not, not sad but more regretful. He’s anxious. Eddie is suddenly, painfully aware that he doesn’t want to hear what Buck’s next words are.

Because he knows what Buck is going to say. He’s going to say it, he’s going to name the thing Eddie’s been so carefully avoiding. Their relationship has been a minefield for years, and Eddie has gotten extremely good at picking his next move carefully, but Buck is about to throw caution to the wind and take a daring step forward without watching where he places his feet.

He’s filled with so much dread in an instant, but he’s helpless to stop Buck as he’s opening his mouth to say:

“Eddie, I think I’m in love with you.”

Buck says the words, and nothing changes.

Everything changes, really, everything that matters anyway, but — it’s not the explosion of movement Eddie is expecting. It’s like the earth stands still. The party sounds fade to nothing, the twinkling lights frozen in time. Nothing moves. There’s no wind, no insects buzzing, nothing at all. 

It feels monumental, like something should be shifting. Everything should be thundering with the weight of this moment, but. Nothing. It’s like a hush has fallen instead, the world taking a pause to watch them, waiting to see what happens next, and Eddie—

Eddie takes a step back.

He doesn’t know what Buck’s expression does because he very stoutly doesn't look at him. 

“Eddie,” Buck says, but Eddie is already shaking his head and taking another step. 

“I have to, um,” he doesn’t even come up with an excuse before he’s turning his back to Buck and walking away.

#buddie #buddie wip #911 fic #spec i guess but like... not really #cge wip #i'm hoping by posting this can muster up some motivation to keep writing lmao #this wip is currently around 4k words and i'm estimating it'll be about 15k when done which is... intimidating #in an ideal world i finish it before thursday but i guess we'll see. place ur bets. #evan buckley #eddie diaz

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, sixy-nine

AN: I’ve been waiting literal years to get to chapter 69, but alas. It didn’t work out the way I wanted it to. In fact, I think this chap is going to be split in two. Hopefully the second half will be up by the end of the weekend. Please enjoy and lmk via comment or reblog if you’re still out there.

Aelin leaned her head back into the seat rest and let the wind whip through her long hair, her stress melting away with each mile they drove away from Orynth. In the aftermath of the Evalin debacle, she was more than ready for a full week of nothing resembling schoolwork or stress whatsoever. Nothing but relaxation, sunshine, and sex. She’d even made a special trip to the mall with Manon and Elide to purchase a few new nightgowns for the occasion. And she could not wait to show them off. And honestly, she couldn’t wait to have sex in a real bed. Her knees were totally bruised and red from the back seat of the Jeep. She sighed happily, imagining the week-full of scantily clad moments and couldn’t help but look over at Rowan, who was hyper focused as he made his way through the winding highways at the base of the Terrasen mountains.

She took a moment to truly ogle him. The flex of his forearm as he made his way meticulously around every curve. His furrowed brow and his recently cropped hair showing off the thick column of his throat. One of his teeth peeked from between his pillowy lips, gnawing on the skin there, completely oblivious to Aelin’s lusting.

“Aelin, look away from your boyfriend before he crashes the car,” Lysandra laughed from the backseat, causing Aedion to snort loudly beside her. “Could you be any hornier? Gods.”

“Yes,” Rowan smirked, still not taking his eyes off the road ahead of him. Okay, so maybe not completely oblivious. “You sure your parents won’t care that we’re spending the week at their beach house?” Rowan asked Lysandra for approximately hundredth time since she’d pitched the idea the week earlier.

“They’re on a luxury cruise on the coast of the Southern continent for the rest of the month,” she replied, giving her same answer no matter how many times he asked for reassurance.

The plan had come together fairly last minute, not that Aelin was complaining. She’d anticipated her spring break being a boring (but still delightful) affair of vegging out in front of the television, but this was going to be a whole lot better. Obviously, spring break was a minefield of substance use (and abuse), and Lysandra had pitched the idea of a sober week at her parents’ completely empty beachside mansion. Aelin could tell that Lysandra was feeling genuinely nervous about the prospect of being alone, and Aelin was happy to gather a group of people, who would enjoy a week of sobriety. Manon and Elide had jumped at the opportunity to be unsupervised for a week, while Dorian had pratically thrown himself across the table asking to join. (Apparently his dad had been more annoying than usual as he waited for college apps to roll in). And though Aelin had anticipated Chaol not wanting to participate, given whatever weirdness was going on with him and Dorian, he also seemed exciting to come.

What Aelin hadn’t anticipated, though, was her cousin’s presence. He was waiting at Lysandra’s, suitcase in hand, as Rowan and Aelin swung by earlier this morning. He’d waved her raised brow off with a loud, “Let’s get this sober party started!” And that was, apparently that.

She looked behind her at the pair, wondering what was actually going on between them. Despite the absence of any kind of drugs or alcohol, Aelin had a distinct feeling this week was going to be a wild one.

. . .

The house was… incredible. She’d seen pictures of it before, but Lysandra’s family used it primarily as an event space, renting it out during the summer months. It was still slightly too chilly to utilize the beach, so it sat, dark and empty. But, just stepping into the brightly lit foyer, Aelin felt lighter than air.

“You and Rowan are in the master on the fourth floor,” Lysandra said, pointing to the staircase.

“Really?”

“Aedion requested that you both be out of earshot from him,” she said with a teasing smile.

“And where is my dear cousin going to be sleeping?” Aelin asked, curiosity peaking.

Lysandra rolled her eyes, and Aelin didn’t fail to notice that wasn’t an answer.

“Manon and Elide are stopping for takeout, so text them with your order ASAP,” she said instead.

Aelin was going to push further, but Rowan came sweeping in beside her, their suitcases in hand, and starting running up the stairs.

“Race ya!”

“That’s cheating!”

Aelin tripped over her own sneakers trying to get ahead of him, but the man was built like a tree trunk, and no matter how many times she tried to snake around him, he blocked her again and again.

Finally, as they rounded the corner to master suite, Aelin was able to pull ahead. And the sight that awaited her was even better than she could have imagined.

Squealing, she took off in a run before falling back, full body flopping and bouncing onto the

king-sized bed, which took up the center of the room. She sighed happily as she stared up at the billowy canopy above her, the smell of beachside breeze surrounding her as Rowan cracked open their giant bay window. Behind a set of gauzy curtains was a private balcony, overlooking the beach and the ocean beyond it, and Aelin felt like royalty with how good everything felt. She could get used to this.

With a wide smile, Rowan came and flopped next to her, both of them bouncing in tandem off the mattress and crashing down into each other in a breathless pile of limbs.

“Hi,” Rowan said, curling his body towards hers, his green eyes dark as his hand ran its way under the hem of her shirt. She inched forward in return, leaning into the pads of his fingers as they circled the skin of her back.

“Hi.”

Her voice sounded breathless to her own ears. Although, that could be due to the fact that they’d just sprinted up four flights of stairs.

“Dinner! Text.” Lys shouted up the stairs, breaking the spell between them momentarily. She jotted off a quick text, then resumed her position staring at Rowan. Gods, he was so beautiful. And she was so lucky to have him. His fingers never ceased their movement, delicately running up and down the curve of her side, as his face relaxed into a contended smile. She briefly had the urge to pull her journal from her backpack and record this moment, this prolonged moment of touching between them, as she had before they’d admitted their feelings for each other. The shadow of a past that she barely knew anymore.

She’d brought the journal in hopes that she’d be able to write out any of her feelings regarding her murky future, but with Rowan’s face merely inches away, it all seemed so clear. She’d only ever need him. Unable to resist the pull between them for a second longer, she tugged the collar of his shirt toward her and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss.

He mumbled something against her mouth, but she was too blissed out to really hear his words.

“Shouldn’t we go downstairs,” he laughed, as she trailed kisses down his throat. “Help Lys unpack the groceries and games and stuff?”

“Mmm, no,” Aelin said, rolling her boyfriend to his back and lifting up his shirt to scatter soft kisses against his abs. She loved the way they clenched beneath her touch. It made her feel so powerful. Rowan snorted loudly, but it morphed quickly into a groan as she fiddled with the waistband of his pants.

“Ace,” he attempted to admonish her. “Friends. Downstairs.”

“Guess we’ll just have to be quiet.”

He flopped back onto the fluffy white comforter with a muffled groan as Aelin tugged on his pants. And as she started to move over him, she errantly thought she should have texted her friends that they would be late to dinner and not to wait for them.

. . .

They were indeed late for dinner. But no one minded. The table was filled with chatter between their friends, who barely spared the freshly showered pair a glance as they walked in. They table was mid-card game already, and Aelin laughed loudly as she figured out they were playing an extremely intense game of Go Fish between bites of their seafood feast.

“Go. Fish,” Aedion said confidently, causing Dorian’s blue eyes to narrow with irritation.

“If you have a three you have to give it to me,” Dorian insisted, causing Aedion to smirk back.

“I know how to play the game, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

A matching smirk appeared on Dorian’s face, and the sudden moment of silence was so charged that Aelin felt herself warm slightly. Looking around the table, she knew she was not the only one who noticed. The tension coming from both Lysandra and Chaol’s tight smiles was palpable.

Well, that was certainly an interesting development.

“Dorian, do you have any fives?” Manon cut in, apparently observing the same situation that Aelin had.

The spark died quickly as the game progressed, but it didn’t escape Aelin’s attention that Chaol’s eyes flicked between Aedion and Dorian a few dozen times. He’d insisted they were fine and that the moment they spent as more than friends was just a blip in the past, but given his furrowed brow and tipped frown, Aelin had a feeling that wasn’t exactly true. Poor Chaol.

The rest of the night followed without incident — they received a full house tour from Lysandra, who showed them how to use the highly complicated smart house settings, which included internet, lights, the thermostat and auto-timed blackout shades. She also led them out to the deck and taught them how to turn on the hot tub, as well as the outdoor lights and music system. After she taught them how to turn on the projector in the theater room, and where everything had been put away in the kitchen, they decided they deserved an evening of rest. They all gathered on the family room the couch to eat copious amounts of candy and popcorn and watch a horror comedy that Aedion had picked. Aelin was glad she and Rowan had gotten in some alone time earlier, because somewhere toward the middle of the movie, she could feel her eyes getting heavy with sleep.

“You okay?” she could hear Rowan ask somewhere just out of reach of the depths of her exhaustion.

She mumbled a soft, “I’m asleep,” as she flopped harder onto his chest, and she could feel the rumble of his laughter beneath her cheek as he stroked her hair, and that was all she remembered.

She didn’t wake until hours later when the first hints of buttery sunlight peaked through the curtains of their master suite. Based on Rowan’s soft and steady breath beside her, she knew it must be really early, and a quick glance at the clock told her it wasn’t even six yet. Despite not being a morning person at all, she felt invigorated and inspired. She crept quietly out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweats and grabbing her journal before heading downstairs.

The delicious aroma of coffee awaited her downstairs, a full pot already brewed from the fancy machine Lysandra had taught them how to use last night in their detailed house tour. She looked around to see who else was awake, but the kitchen was completely empty. Instead of doing further inspection, she poured a hefty amount of hazelnut creamer into her coffee and grabbed a blanket from the stack on the end of the couch to wrap around her shoulders before making her way onto the deck.

The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon when she settled in at the outdoor table with her coffee. Awash in the beauty of the blue waves softly lapping at the shore of the beach, contrasting with the deep purple and pink sky first tinged with the first rays of the firey red-orange sun, Aelin felt like she could finally breathe for the first time in a long time.

Her worn journal was battered and bruised, and she regretted that it had been ignored in the recent months, in favor of her color-coded planner. It was her dad who’d reminded her of its existence, wondering if she wouldn’t feel better if she put pen to paper about how she was feeling. And though she wasn’t exactly sure what was going to come out, she placed her pen against a fresh page and took off. As the words formed in her messy sloping print, she found herself writing about the moment itself. She wanted to remember this sky, the way the sunlight spilled over the darkness like a molten lava, lighting up the horizon like a fire, starting deep glowing red, then turning a burning orange, until it became unmistakably golden.

She didn’t know how long she’d been writing for when the seats next to her started to fill up with her friends, but the sun was firmly fixed in the sky, daylight pouring over the wide expanse of sand and glistening atop the ocean’s placid undulations. She shut her journal and reached for her coffee mug, which had been freshly filled and was steaming again. Her glance drifted next to her where Rowan lifted his own mug, which read “World’s Best Granddad” in a scrawling script, in an air cheers, and they both smiled as they took a sip in unison.  

“So, what’s on the agenda today, Miss Lys?” Aedion asked, clapping his hand loudly on her shoulder.

Lys glanced up at him with a beaming smile. “Glad you asked.”

Lysandra had put in more prep than Aelin had even anticipated, making sure that they had multiple activity options for each day they spend there. Aelin had known Lysandra was nervous about this week, but she hadn’t realized exactly how nervous until she saw Lys’s list for potential activities and which weather they’d be best for.

Since the weather was abnormally warm for this time of year, they decided to take advantage of the sunshine and explore the local town. It was a short walk from the house, and though it was pretty much just two streets of “downtown,” it was fun to look into each of the darkened windows, seeing where tourists would line up to indulge in artisan fudge and hand crafted beach bags, decadent scoops of ice cream, and kitschy beachwear as soon as summer came around.  

“Sup, buttmunch?” Aedion swung a large arm around Aelin’s shoulders as they ambled down the main street.

Aelin’s instinct was to shrink out of her cousin’s arms and tell him to fuck off, but he had the distinct privilege of catching her in a moment where she was trying to relish the moment. She remembered how hard it sucked when he went away to college, how far away he felt, and couldn’t resist leaning into his grasp. It only caused him confusion.

“You good?”

Aelin nodded. But Aedion knew her too well.

“I heard about your mom.”

Well, that caught Aelin’s attention.

“What? How?”

He nodded toward Lysandra. “Don’t be mad if she wasn’t supposed to tell. She was just… worried. If anyone knows about parental issues…”

Aelin shrugged. “I’m okay.” But Aedion wasn’t satisfied with that answer and proceeded to pinch her side. “OW!”

She must have reacted too exuberantly because before she could say anything, Rowan was there, hovering and worrying and asking Aedion what was going on.

“I’m fine, buzzard,” she laughed, shooing him away.

“Sorry I upset your bodyguard,” Aedion chuckled. And it felt so natural to just be with him that she almost cried. She thought about the way their relationship had ebbed and flowed in the last two years, and she regretted… a lot. She loved Aedion. And cutting him out was one of the worst things she’d done in a long list of mistakes.

“He’s fine. And so am I,” Aelin reassured her cousin, who was still peering at her with the eyes she saw in the mirror every day. Damn, it was so hard to lie to him. “Or, I will be.” She took a deep breath. “I’m just looking forward to a week with no drama.”

At that, Aedion snorted loudly.

“I’m sorry, you gathered a group of stressed out couples and almost couples and former couples and expected them not to bring you drama?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

Aelin’s jaw dropped. “And which one are you?”

“I don’t believe in labels,” he replied, puffing out his chest. But his posturing was short-lived as he lowered his voice. “Dorian is… nice.”

“I KNEW IT!” Aelin hissed.

“Shush,” he chastised her, pulling her closer.

“But what about Lys?” she asked.

And she saw the way Aedion’s eyes glazed over with concern as he sought out the brunette in front of them. “She’s an incredible human, and I like her a lot.” He paused. “Maybe more than I should.” He sighed as he looked down at Aelin again. “She’s strong as hell, and she’d straight up die for anyone she cares about. It reminds me a lot of someone else I know…” He chuckled. “But, she’s not allowed to date for at least another six months, according to her sobriety rules. And she said she’ll probably follow it for longer, given how fucked up her last relationship was. And, she’s straight up told me that. And I have to respect that. So, yeah, I’m looking elsewhere.” He paused, his eyes sliding to Dorian’s swaying hips a few feet in front of them. “And elsewhere is cute.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and elsewhere has a former-almost relationship sleeping next door to him.”

“I know,” Aedion laughed. “Which is why I think you should be prepared for drama,” he said, tickling her side. “I know you can’t possssibly understand because you’re in the most incredible amazing relationship ever, but…”

“You talking about my butt?” Dorian quipped, winking over his shoulder, and Aedion’s cheeks had the audacity to turn pink.

Aelin didn’t think she’d ever seen him blush before, and she couldn’t believe the shade of scarlet he turned at Dorian’s attention. Which… was worrisome, given Chaol and Lysandra’s sudden tension in their posture. Drama. Oh dear. Perhaps Aedion was right. Aelin considered herself warned.

. . .

When they got back to the house, everyone was ordered to leave the kitchen. Manon and Chaol (of all people!) had decided to cook everyone a gourmet dinner. Unbeknownst to anyone, Chaol had pursued an interest in the culinary arts and he was enamored by the technology available to him in Lysandra’s parents’ kitchen. And apparently Manon was an excellent chef, according to Elide, who had enjoyed many meals via her girlfriends’ talents. As they had walked by a local grocery, they’d picked up all the ingredients they needed for the most delicious dinner ever. They spent their time walking through the aisles, deciding what to prepare and landed on a multi-course meal that would knock everyone’s socks off. Apparently last night’s takeout was… fine, but they wanted something more elevated. Just from overhearing their planning, Aelin had deduced dinner would consist of several different salads, seared scallops, a complicated steak dish, and a dessert that Aelin would be dreaming about for hours. She thought perhaps they had watched too much Top Chef, but who was she to complain about receiving the fruits of their labor?

Since the group had hours to kill and the sun was starting to sink into the horizon and leave the house shrouded in dark shadow, Lys suggested that they start up the hot tub while Manon and Chaol manned the kitchen. Elide and Chaol had offered themselves up as sous chefs to help with any prep, but they were rejected, leaving them to join the hot tub crew. Aelin felt absolutely great about that. And as soon as she put on her bikini, so did Rowan. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her close and nuzzling his face into her neck. “Mmm, you smell so good,” he moaned, and Aelin couldn’t resist smiling widely as she remembered the multiple nightgowns she’d brought and hadn’t taken out yet. Rowan would be dying. And they’d be putting this master bed with its fluffy mattress and even fluffier comforter to good use. She’d specifically bought a few sexy nightgowns in colors she knew he would love – gold, green, and red. But she was careful to push them to the bottom of the suitcase and out of Rowan’s view. After arranging the clothes just so, so everything was out of sight, she placed her her journal on top to and pulled her bathing suit out.

He was already clad in low-slung shorts, which highlighted his abs in an obscene way, and she contemplated saying fuck it to the hot tub and just pulling him into bed right in that very moment, but she also knew that she should be social and that this was not just a sexcation for her and her boyfriend. When she looked at the wide expanse of his chest and thick roped arms that was hard to remember. So she pulled him out of the room quickly, not wanting to tempt herself more than she needed.

In the hot tub, Lys and Aedion were already stewing in the steamy water, seltzers in hand as they tried to control their temperature. Aelin stepped in and let the lapping bubbles overtake her, sliding onto a seat that was right next to a pulsing jet. She couldn’t help but moan, causing all the eyes in the hot tub to slide to her.

“Sorry,” she apologized, causing a round of laughter to take off.

Dorian and Elide slinked in shortly after, and even though Aelin was leaning hard into Rowan’s side, she kept an eye on Aedion and Dorian and Lys, wondering exactly what was going on between all of them at every moment. Rowan definitely noticed at one point, elbowing her side, but she ignored him.

“Ugh, I’m overheated,” Rowan complained about thirty minutes into their soak.

“Really? I’m perfect,” Aelin replied, causing everyone to laugh.

Rowan shook his head, laughing at his girlfriend. “I’m gonna take a cold shower and then I’ll be back,” he assured her, leaving her with a solid kiss that left Aelin breathless.

“Y’all are as disgusting as ever,” Aedion said, causing Dorian to snort loudly.

“That’s nothing,” he added. “Wait until you see them in the minutes before they head to their not-so-secret parking lot spot to fuck.”

Aelin’s cheek’s filled with blood at his words, but she wasn’t ashamed. “Whatever,” she laughed off.

Even Elide joined in the razzing, making Aelin realize that maybe she and Rowan were more obvious than they let on. She was so busy laughing that she barely realized that Rowan hadn’t rejoined them until everyone was getting out of the tub an hour later.

As she walked through the kitchen, she sniffed in the incredible aromas and told Manon that she was looking forward to dinner, to which her friend simply replied, “You better be.”

Dripping slightly, she skipped up the stairs to the master bedroom. Rowan was laid out on the bed, his eyes closed, and Aelin assumed that he was simply exhausted, and walked herself straight into the shower. She showered the chlorine out of her hair and took extra time to shave her legs all the way up to her hips, making sure that she was feeling good and confident about being alone with Rowan tonight.

But when she made her way out to the bedroom, Rowan was staring at her with such vitriol that she was taken aback.

“Uh, hi?” she asked, and he simply scoffed.

“Hi.” She wrapped the towel tighter around her chest and looked at him for real. He did not look happy. His frown tugged down exaggeratedly and his brow was crinkled with stress lines.

“You okay?” she asked, even though the answer was an obvious no.

“Just wondering why you’re with me if you think I’m inconsiderate and emotionally stunted,” he said super casually, as if he hadn’t said something completely insane.

“What?”

He reached for her journal, which she hadn’t even realized was in his grasp, and held it in front of them.

“Apparently you think I’m selfish and horrible and completely unworthy of your attention, so I guess I’m not so sure of what you’re doing with me.”

Aelin was aghast.

“You read my journal?”

He scoffed, as if he hadn’t done anything wrong. “Well, it was out there for anyone to see. I barely had to flip through it to see all the shit you wrote about me,” he said, annoyed as ever. But all it did was spur Aelin’s anger. How…dare he?

She snatched the journal from his hands and clutched it to her still damp chest.

“You’re not even denying it. You read my journal.”

He stuck his nose into the air, not denying a thing, and Aelin’s heart panged with a hurt so large she thought maybe she was having a heart attack.

“That wasn’t okay, Ro.”

“Obviously,” he quipped. “This is where you write how much you fucking hate me.”

She could feel herself vibrating with anger as she opened the journal in front of him. “Oh yeah? I hate you?” she sassed. “Then please tell me why I spent all of the summer between junior and senior year cataloguing every time you touched me? Because I hated you?” she seethed. “This journal is my most private thoughts and feelings,” she admitted. “And most of them are about how in love with you I am.” She took a deep breath, her shoulders shaking with every deep breath. “So you read the one page where I was frustrated that you didn’t love me too? Get over it, Rowan. You put me through hell. HELL!” she shouted. “You didn’t give me any signal that you loved me too, at all. So, sorry if I had one stupid journal entry talking about how frustrated I was with you. If you had turned the fucking page,” she said, turning the page for effect. “You would have seen how stupidly obsessed and in love I was with you, but you don’t deserve to read that either.”

She shook with her anger, unaffected by the change in her boyfriends’ expression.

“Now get out.”

“But—”

“Get out.”

She watched as Rowan gathered himself off the bed and headed out the door, and she chose to ignore the small furrow in Rowan’s brow or the clenching of his jaw, as she slammed the door shut.

How dare he. Like, really. How. Dare. He? He had no right to invade her privacy and then be mad about what he’d discovered. Not to mention, if he’d only skipped ahead a few pages in the journal he would have stumbled on a time stamped record of every time he’d touched her, making her skin light on fire with lust and wanting. I’m fact, nearly 99% of that journal was just wishing and hoping that he’d ever look her way or see her as more than a friend. It was the contents of a lovestruck puppy. But NO. He had to crack open her journal and peer inside the one, single day where she hated the wanting and the pain from wanting so bad that she had to get it out — expel the poison from inside her, knowing that none of it was really how she felt. It wasn’t true then and it certainly wasn’t true now. And he knew that! So, how dare he have the audacity to be upset about her most private painful thoughts when he was the one invading them?

She could feel tears burning the edges of her eyelids but refused to let them through. Instead, she sniffed back loudly and tilted her head to the ceiling. An old fan whirred slowly above her, letting out a soft clinking sound with each rotation. One of the blades was slightly off and kept catching the very top of the chain that dangled below. Her breathing steadied as she watched the fan do its wonky loop again and again, the clinking starting to soothe her and she inhaled and exhaled with each sound. 

What a dick.

“UGH!” Aelin pushed herself up and stalked to the door, swinging it back open.

Rowan stood exactly where the door had slammed in his face, and she watched him take a breath, presumably to say he was sorry, but Aelin didn’t care. “Don’t,” she whispered under her breath. “I’m starving, and this dinner sounds so fucking good, and I don’t want to fight.”

“I just want to talk—”

“Well, I don’t,” she snapped.

To his credit, he nodded succinctly, not pushing for more.

“I’m so mad at you,” she continued. “What you did is not okay,” she said, breathing hard and ignoring the way his green eyes pinched at her words. “That journal is my private thoughts and feelings, and you reading it without me… I thought we had boundaries.”

His eyes looked sad as he said, “But I thought we told each other everything.”

And she took a large breath to reply. Because she understood. She really did. “We do. Now. But Ro, that journal is from years and years of our lives. It starts freshman year, and I still use it today. Do you know how many thoughts and feelings I’ve had about you since then?” she asked. She grabbed the journal. “If you turned the page, you would have seen a detailed time stamped spreadsheet of every time you touched me our sophomore year. Literally time stamped. But there were so many times that I wasn’t sure about us. You were with fucking Lyria! For months,” she shouted. “So, how dare you come and be mad at me when you read how I was feeling during that time? I didn’t know if you’d be with me ever.” She took another deep breath, ignoring Rowan’s pained face. “I’m sorry you got your feelings hurt, but I’m not sorry for writing my feelings down in my journal. It was the only way I was able to survive. And youi peaking into that time without acknowledging how hard you hurt me then isn’t just tone deaf, but it's stupid, Ro. Really fucking stupid.”

“I thought you wanted me to read it…” he said, trying to explain himself.

“Well, that was your mistake,” she said, wiping a rogue tear from her cheek.

Rowan apologized, but Aelin barely heard him. She’d wanted to be apart from the drama, but as she and Rowan made her way down to dinner, she realized that they were the drama. And it was about to be everyone else’s problem.

#idwtw #rowaelin #tog fanfiction #rowaelin fanfiction #tog fanfic #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass

[sporktato]

Ghost has bad luck with sergeants

His first is an American named Washington, and we know how it ends but it starts like this.

Sergeant Simon Riley steps onto American soil, not quite certain why he's been placed with an American squad, or even how long he's supposed to be with them, and it's Sergeant Marcus Washington who grabs his attention with a call of, "English!" Later that night, at his welcome party at the local bar, it's Washington who shoves Riley's first glass of bourbon into his hand with some explanation that Washington himself is from Kentucky.

Despite the first day's welcome, it takes time for the two to become close, because he's still Simon Riley so he trusts people as far as he can throw them, but he's still just Simon Riley at this point, so he tries to match Washington's attempts at comradery.

It's easier, once they realize they both know the weight of their father's fists. It's easier once Riley realizes the constant games of pickup basketball Washington forces him into playing is his own flawed coping mechanism. It's easiest once Washington catches him on the phone with his family, and Riley's ready to knock his lights out because he is still Simon Riley and will die protecting his family, but Washington lights up and starts rambling about his baby sister. His baby sister who got the looks and the smarts (Washington's words, not his), and who just finished her electrical apprenticeship last month, and whose schooling was paid for by Washington's military pay after their parents found out she liked kissing girls as well as guys. Very quickly, it becomes Washington and Riley. At the bar with bourbons, in the lounge trading sibling stories as Washington made a valiant attempt to teach Riley how to play guitar, or on the court as Riley set up shot after shot after shot for Washington to sink.

When Riley gets promoted, Washington hoots and hollers for him, ramping up in noise when he learns he's going to be Riley's sergeant and the entire squad ends up at the bar to celebrate. There's a polaroid somewhere from that night, Riley red faced from embarrassment or alcohol smiling wide with Washington's arm over his shoulders, leaning on Riley and laughing as Sparks falls into Riley's other side - no one will ever admit if he tripped or was pushed. All three of them and the troops surrounding them are all dead and gone now, but here, in this little square, they're frozen in time, abundantly alive - mid-smile, mid-laugh, mid-fall, middle of the rest of their lives for all they know. It's months before Vernon sends them to Mexico.



Ghost's second sergeant is Roach, and we know how it ends but it starts like this.

Ghost is just shy of a feral mutt when they're paired together. No one really realizes - he passed his psych evals, Shepard doesn't care enough to notice, and Price, well, that's complicated. So the hand Ghost bites is Roach's. Silent Roach who blares music constantly, to express himself, or to cover their joint silence, or just because he loves music. Roach loves a lot of things. Bugs and the beach and key chain charms and coffee shops (but not coffee). Candles, dogs, tv shows about zombies, and history documentaries. Life.

It's Roach who spends months getting a knife to his throat every time he wakes Ghost up from his memories. It's Roach and Roach alone that helps the corpse of Simon Riley become Ghost, and Ghost become... not human, not good, but not wild and wrathful either. It's Roach that reminds Ghost what it means to be a lieutenant and that it's his responsibility to take care of those under his command. Ghost learns BSL, and finds his own sliver of solace in it. There are days Ghost can't talk either, or days he's afraid if he opens his mouth he'll start screaming and won't stop till someone puts a bullet in his head. The two of them get good at Morse Code, at whistling, even at charades. They get good at understanding each other (mostly it’s Roach navigating Ghost’s new minefield), and it’s as silent a friendship as Riley’s and Washington’s was loud. It’s Roach that convinces Ghost to trust Price and Nik and the others. Ghost doesn’t know when he started listening to Roach, but a small, fragile attempt at trust is silently - always silently, now - given to Price.

They do not talk of family, or of how Ghost will order bourbons but never drink them, or the aversion Ghost has for the ratty basketball hoop on base. They spend Christmases on base, physically together but Ghost so far away for most of it. Roach makes him eat and shower and sleep and go for walks, even if Ghost doesn’t remember most of it. At some point Ghost all but begs Roach for music recommendations, Roach’s love finally making Ghost understand his own craving for playing music, but all he knows are the country songs Washington taught him and he can’t do that now, he just can’t.

There is a picture tucked somewhere in Price’s belongings of Ghost and Roach sitting side by side in a heli, both silent, unmoving, faces covered, but joined by a pair of headphones connected to the battered ipod in Roach’s hand. It was taken by Scarecrow as they flew over the Russian border, hours before Roach is killed by a mortar strike, mere feet away from Ghost.

Ghost’s third sergeant is not Gaz. He refuses outright, metaphorically throwing the younger man at Price. Ghost goes a very long time without a sergeant, without a friend, without someone he allows himself to trust aside from Price. He isn’t half insane anymore and Roach trained him too well to revert back to that form fully, so Price allows this isolation. His solitary reputation is cemented with time, and he is not Simon Riley and he is not the creature Roach eventually tamed and so he is monotonous. Two-dimensional. Translucent in the sun. It’s fine, ideal even, no one gets hurt if no one touches him. (He doesn’t know if he’s protecting them or himself.)

Ghost’s third sergeant is Soap, and we know how it starts - a punch and a promise - but fuck is Simon terrified of how it ends.

#ghost #simon riley #ghost headcanons #cod #COD MW2 #mw2 headcanons #ghostsoap #john price #gary roach sanderson

[sarafinamk]

Fallen Angel Incorrect Quotes Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

Warning: Cursing

The Smiling Critters Space Riders Au and the character "Z" belongs to @onyxonline

If you haven't checked out the Fallen Angel (Reader Insert) series, you can check out the Masterlist here. The reader will be referred to as both (Y/n) and Archangel. Enjoy!

----------

*Archangel trying on a new outfit*

Crafty: Do you or do you not feel bonita?

Archangel:

Archangel: I feel bonita.

Crafty: Wonderful! Because you look bonita!

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Bobby: The reason why you hate physical contact even though you're extremely touch deprived is because it's been so long since you felt loving physical contact from another living being that your brain misperceives it as a threat.

Archangel:

Bobby:

Bobby: So Picky brought home this raspberry lemonade-

----------

*One of the many, MANY fights before the events of Fallen Angel*

Archangel: You'd be stupid to lay a hand on me.

Hoppy: Oh, you'd be surprised how much stupid shit I do.

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Archangel: If bees can be fish and boys can be girls, then why can't my dad love me?

Hoppy: I thought I was going to have to yell at you, but now I think I should hug you.

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Bobby: A party is a celebration of life, bringing people together to let the guest of honor know how much they're loved. (Y/n) has done so much for us. This is our chance to do something for them.

Bubba: By forcing them to have fun at a party that they don't want to be at?

Bobby: I knew you'd understand.

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Archangel: Still not over how yesterday when we landed, Hoppy said we arrived 50 minutes early because she took some "shortcuts."

Archangel: Excuse me, we were in space, what do you mean???

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Archangel: I desire moisture.

Picky: Please just say "I want water" like a normal person.

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Hoppy: (Y/n) is mad at me, and I'm not sure why.

Bubba: Okay, did you talk before they got upset?

Hoppy: ...yes?

Bubba: That's probably it.

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Some fan: I wanna be an archangel!

Archangel: What the fuck do you want this shit for? I kill people, all right? Their blood is on my hands! Every night, when I go to sleep, I see their FUCKING faces staring at me! Their families weep, and I FEEL NOTHING! I'M DEAD INSIDE!

That same fan: Man, I want some of that in my life!

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Bubba: Don't weep for the stupid. You'll be crying all day.

----------

Archangel: There is no future. There is no past. Don't you see? Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that people insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every fact.

Picky: ... All I asked was if you wanted to cut your birthday cake first.

----------

Archangel: What is love?

Dogday: An emotional minefield.

Bubba: A neurochemical reaciton.

Kickin: Baby don't hurt me.

----------

Bubba: I have the sharpest memory here - name one time I forgot something!

Hoppy: You left me, (Y/n), and Catnap in a Walmart parking lot at 2 AM a day ago.

Bubba: I did that on purpose, try again.

----------

Archangel: I'm not funny, I'm just really mean and people think I'm joking.

----------

Z: You're alive.

Archangel: No need to sound so disappointed.

----------

Dogday: I'm going to ask you to be respectful.

Archangel: I will politely decline.

----------

Archangel: And I'd love to be sorry for that, but we all know I've done much, much worse.

----------

Picky: Don't worry, I've got a few knives up my sleeve.

Archangel: I think you mean cards.

Crafty: She did not.

Picky, pulling out knives: I did not.

----------

Archangel: I keep a picture of all of us in my wallet. Whenever I face difficulties, I take it out and stare at the picture.

The Space Riders: Awwww.

Archangel: And I tell myself "If I can deal with these idiots, then I can deal with anything."

The Space Riders: Oh.

----------

Archangel: Who the fuck-

Dogday: Language!

Archangel: Whom the fuck-

Dogday: No.

++++++++++

Author's Note: Now that I made a lot of progress with my thesis paper, I'm going to focus on finishing Chapter 3. I don't have an exact date, but it is coming soon. Thank you for your understanding.

#poppy playtime #space riders au #dogday #catnap #hoppy hopscotch #kickinchicken #bubba bubbaphant #bobby bearhug #craftycorn #picky piggy #poppyplaytime au #poppy playtime oc #poppy playtime smiling critters #smiling critters au #smiling critters #x reader #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime dogday #poppy playtime catnap #smiling critters x reader #platonic #dogday x oc #incorrect quotes #reader insert #gn reader #gender neutral reader #crack post #crack fanfic #crack fic #shitpost

[trans-bread-of-life]

Yesterday morning, I had a dream where I was on an elevator with a few people from a “discipleship school” (borderline cult) that I went to back in my Evangelical days. One of the ministry leaders got onto the elevator, said hi by name to every person but me, and only when I said hi to her again did she say hi, still refusing to use my name.

The dream was probably a realistic picture of what would happen if I ran into this particular woman someday, but I’m also wondering if it doesn’t have something to say more broadly about the experience of being a trans man.

As a cis-passing trans guy, I don’t really have a lot of places to belong in the queer community. I’m not a gay man, and gay male spaces are generally a minefield of dysphoria & avoiding chasers anyway. I relate to the sapphics, but as a man, I never really fit in their spaces (even when they try to be more inclusive). Trans-femmes have their own right-knot communities, but I really just have a few isolated trans-masc friends I go to for advice. I could probably fit in with cishet people, but I would have to hide the fact that I’m trans.

And when it comes to dating (mostly women & feminine people, as I’m kind of 90-10 bi favoring women), I keep shooting my shot and being turned down over and over again.

I don’t think I’m the only person experiencing this. In fact, I think it’s a systemic challenge that trans men face. As we are transitioning and reaching the times when we most need strong community support, we’re suddenly forced into the isolation of North American manhood. The message that we hear (usually implied, but occasionally out loud) is, “you wanted to be a man, so welcome to the worst part.”

But of course trans men are even more isolated than cis men, because all of these wild things are happening to our bodies with no one there to teach us to shave or show us how to navigate these new gender roles or help us figure out what the fuck to do with all of this ass hair.

I’m lucky to be involved in very queer church circles, where there is a critical mass to form a robust queer friend group, but not a big enough group to break off into specific identities. But that’s the only place where I’ve found myself belonging to a group and forming deep friendships.

I want there to be parties and queer community events/spaces where my presence is actively wanted & encouraged. I want to have memories that counter the many experiences I have (and the many more that I will have) of romantic rejection. I want to feel like I’m enough, and I want to feel like I belong.

I don’t know what the solution is (besides more spaces open to all LGBTQ+ people and maybe me figuring out to be hotter or something?) but I have to keep hoping it will get better.

In the meantime, hug a trans guy (with his consent) the next time you see one.

#transmasc #trans man #trans #transgender #trans grief #anti transmasculinity #queer christian #transandrophobia

[moony2moon]

Arc of a Scythe Incorrect Quotes pt 2 LETZ GOOOOOO

Greyson: What is love?

Sister Astrid: An emotional minefield.

Thunderhead: A neurochemical reaction.

Morrison: Baby don't hurt me.

Rowan: Is Goddard always like this when he loses

Volta: Oh yes. You should've been there for the great Jenga tantrum of the Year of the Gecko.

Goddard: YOU BUMPED THAT TABLE AND YOU KNOW IT!!!

Faraday: Rowan...

Rowan: I can tell by the tone of your voice that you are disappointed. Alas, I must further disappoint you by affirming how little I give a f*ck.

Goddard: *Standing in front of a baby changing station* Baby changing station, *puts hand over the letter C on the label* baby hanging station.

The rest of the New Order: *Starts cheering and clapping*

Goddard: ARE YOU READY TO F*CKING DIE!?!

Rowan: No! I'm a bad b*tch, you can't kill me!!!

Goddard: BIT-

Curate Mendoza: Alright flock, we're gonna play a little game called the name game, you can go first.

Greyson: *Lowers raised hand* My name is Shacka-Umph-Ka, and my dad knows god.

Curie: We did it! You're gonna be a father!

Faraday: I'm reading Harry Potter the Prisoner of Azkaban, what do you want???

Citra: *Holds up package* Faraday, look, it's the good kush!

Faraday: This is the dollar store, how good can it be?

Goddard: It's summer, I got my hat on backwards, and it's time to f*cking party- *Hits head on doorframe*

Xenocrates: Oh that was delicious, I am stuffed to the BRIM.

Constantine: Did anyone here say "room for dessert?"

Xenocrates: You bet your f*cking *ss-

Citra: I'm in Marie's car! Vroom! Vroom!

Curie: Get outta me car!

Citra: Aaaaawwww....

Like for part 3? Plz?

Do you want a cookie???

#arc of a scythe #scythe #thunderhead #the toll #aoas #greyson tolliver #sister astrid #curate mendoza #scythe morrison #rowan #scythe lucifer #scythe volta #scythe goddard #scythe faraday #new order #scythe curie #citra terranova #scythe anastasia #rowan damisch #scythe xenocrates #scythe constantine #incorrect quotes

[edutainer2022]

UNREQUITED Ch 7.5

Co-written with @janetm74

Ch 7 | Ch 8 | AO3

A piece, concurrent with the ending of Ch 7 (Page Six). A glimpse into Scott's reaction and overall state of mind (aka the lies his heartbreak is telling him). Virgil is being a very supportive brother, but he's out of his depth quite a bit.

(interlude)

*interlude*

Virgil startled, as he didn't expect his brother to speak. Not since he picked him up off the floor of Dad's study, hyperventilating, amidst the shards of the broken whiskey glass and the shattered picture frame of Scott's AirForce graduation photo Dad kept on his desk.

Not since they holed up in one of the Round House guest rooms, while the short notice preparations of the impromptu "wedding party" were afoot.

Virgil quietly debated with John to maybe ask to call it off, but it was Penelope's request. And Gordon was so excited. They wondered if that was also Lady P's sneaky way to arrange a getaway for her friend Kayo and Rigby in a beautiful, romantic setting. That would have been a move right up her alley.

None of that certainly helped improve Scott's mood or made him more forthcoming. Big brother was just not all there since the news announcement and the breakdown in the study.

Virgil wondered if Scott even noticed his brother was an ever present shadow at his side those past two days. Apparently he did.

They saw FAB 1 land on the island, earlier than expected, from the vantage point of the mountain terrace.

Then John's message came through - that the "wedding" was an elaborate GDF undercover op. Scott reacted to that in a way Virgil didn't anticipate - with a laugh that chilled him to the bone. A laugh of a madman.

Virgil was still unsure what to say, once his brother calmed down, but Scott spoke first.

"I can't do this anymore."

Virgil's chest tightened. Virgil shifted to press himself closer to Scott's shoulder and provide support. Whatever his brother needed at the moment. Scott's voice was hoarse.

"I can't feel like this anymore. I can't! I want to stop!"

"Scotty, you're scaring me."

Virgil didn't intend to sound so small and unsure, but the raw pain Scott let him see up close, left the little brother in him rattled. Virgil leaned his chin on Scott's shoulder, an extra anchoring point in the storm.

"I can't feel like I couldn't ever be happy. I want to stop! All of it. Just stop!"

Virgil's vision swam. There was a determination behind the anguish in his brother's voice that got him so scared all the way back in the Arctic blizzard. That was a step before Scott setting a self-destruction course.

Virgil tried again with the softest inflection, usually reserved to shocked rescuees:

"Scotty, it's okay. You deserve all the happiness you ever wish for, I promise!"

It didn't have an intended effect, as big brother snorted bitterly.

"That's just it, Virgie - I DON'T! She was right."

Virgil's educated guess as to the "she" was immediately confirmed.

"She was right. I was Dad's charity case. He probably saw right away I wasn't cut out for GDF, so planned to pull me out anyway. That was even before... That Place."

Virgil shuddered. Any mention of the hell in Bereznik those months were for Scott (and for them all) was a minefield of its own. But Scott wasn't done.

"And after... Dad didn't even trust me to go on Zero-X with him. Didn't trust me to save him! She was right - I'm a waste of AirForce training and Dad's hopes!"

Scott was sobbing more than talking coherently at that point, so Virgil concentrated on clutching him for dear life, as if scared the brother would fracture into pieces if he let go. His own tears were soaked in by the denim shirt.

John's notice he was coming up remained unread.

#thunderbirds are go #scott tracy #scott tracy needs a hug #pairing: scott/kayo #virgil tracy #virgil tracy needs a hug #scott tracy/original character #that didn't work #earth and sky #bereznik headcanons #scott tracy needs his dad #thunderbirds 2015 #my fic #janetm74

[tdinyomomma]

TDI X Reader- Phobia Factor (Chapter Seven)

If you haven’t read: six

After the Killer Bass’s elimination we decided to go to the campfire and join them. Well there’s more to it but whatever. “What do you guys want? Come by to rub it in?” Courtney questions us with her hands on her hips. “We got some extra dessert after our tuck-shop party, thought you might want some.” Trent speaks for us as Beth jiggles the green jello in her hands. 

“So, what? You’re just being nice?” Courtney rebuttals.

“Okay, Owen stank up our cabin and we need some time to air it out.” Gwen rolls her eyes and Owen farts. “Ew, dude.” Trent gives the big guy a look.

Beth then brings over the green jello to the Miss C.I.T. who ends up squealing, stepping back. “No!” She then collects herself. “I mean, no thanks. I’m good.” She politely declines the offer. 

“What? Are you on a diet or something?” Duncan quizzes her. 

“No, I just don’t like green jelly, okay?” She defends herself, Beth  then goes past her and over to DJ, he gasps. “Snake!” Flipping the tray over. Cody bends over, grabbing the worm. “Chill, dude, it’s just a gummy worm.” He shows it off to the poor guy. 

“Sorry for tripping. Snakes just freak me out.” He apologizes. “I feel you, chickens give me the creeps, dude.” Tyler comforts his teammate. 

“You’re afraid of chickens?” Gwen asks in disbelief, Duncan chuckles. “Wow, that’s-that’s really lame man.” 

“So suddenly, everyone’s having this big share fest by the fire. Like Beth went on and on about her mortal fear being covered by bugs. Harold’s afraid of Ninjas. Even Heather admitted she’s afraid of sumo wrestlers.” Gwen tells the camera, growing interested in each one she tells. 

“What’s my worst fear? I guess being buried alive.” Gwen answers. 

“Walking through a minefield… in heels.” Lindsay distresses.

“Flying man. That’s some crazy stuff.” Owen speaks up, shivering.

“I would never go up in a plane. Never.” Izzy holds her hands at her chest. 

“I’m scared of hail. It’s small but deadly, dude.” Geoff expresses. 

“Being left alone in the woods.” Bridgette says and Sadie sniffs, holding a wooden plank from the dock. “Bad haircuts.” Sadie cries out. “Oh, okay, I change mine. That’s so much scarier than a minefield.” Lindsay shutters at the thought. 

“Having to diffuse a time bomb under pressure.” Cody scratches his cheek, then we all turn to Courtney. 

“I’m not really afraid of anything.” She holds her knees to her chest. “Baloney.” Duncan coughs. “Oh, really? Well, what exactly is your phobia, Mr. Know-it-all?” She questions him, his face drops instantly and he glances around. 

“Uh, Ce-Celine Dion music store-standees.” He slumps, holding his face. “Exsqueeze me? I didn’t quite get that.” Cody snickers, cupping his hand to his ear, I agree, covering my mouth as I laugh. “Dude, did you say Celine Dion music store-standees?” Trent chimes in. “Ooh, I love Celine Dion!” Lindsay excitedly admits. 

“What’s a standee?” 

“You know, that cardboard cutout thing that stands in the music store?” Trent clarifies. “Don’t say it dude.” Duncan whines, pointing to the other guy speaking, but gets ignored. “Kind of like a life-size but flat Celine.” I sit up straighter, holding onto Cody’s knee to stop myself from laughing. 

“Shut up!” He covers his ears. “What about you guys?” He directs between Trent and I. 

“Okay, well, I hate mimes. Like a lot.” Trent says, “Similar to Trent, clowns.” I boredly tell them, Courtney rolls her eyes at us. “All right Courtney. You’re afraid of something. Spit it out.” Trent orders and I nod but she sits taller. “Nope, nothing.” 

“If that’s true you would’ve jumped during our first challenge. But you didn’t.” I then bend my arms, pretending to flap my wings.” “Shut up!” She shouts at me and I laugh.

Chris whistlers as we all give him our attention. I sit between Heather and Cody. “Campers, your next challenge is a little game I like to call. “Phobia Factor.” Prepare to face your worst fears.” He announces. 

“Worse than this?” Leshawna lifts her food in disgust. “We’re in trouble.” Gwen mutters. “Now for our first victims… Heather!” A card flies into his hand and he reads off of it. “Meet us all in the theater. It’s sumo time!” She spits out her drink in shock. “Gwen you, me, the beach. A few tons of sand.” Her eyes go wide. “Wait how did they know those were your worst fears?” Lindsay asks, Gwen slaps her own forehead. “Because we told them.”

“At the campfire last night.” Trent reminds her, Beth and the blonde look at each other. He then comforts Gwen, rubbing her back as her head lays down on the table. I stare at them without realizing, my mind going blank as I go off into space. 

Immediately getting out of it once Lindsay speaks again. “Wait, they were listening to us?” 

“It’s a reality show, Einstein. They’re always listening to us.” Gwen sarcastically says.

I know I don’t like Gwen how she likes me but still being avoided and her bringing in the comfort of Trent as if I did something wrong hurts. I truly thought we were close friends…

“That’s like eavesdropping!” Lindsay pouts.

“Chef Hatchet, didn’t you have a special order for Tyler here today?” The muscular cook smirks, showing Tyler a fried chicken, the teen picks it up, he stares at it for a moment. Then he bites off the head and then an actual live chicken head pops up and Tyler screams in fear.

We go to the first thing which is for Beth, it’s a blow up pool filled with bugs DJ vomits just by looking at it. I cross my arms glancing over to Cody who was a worryful expression. For it being Beth’s worst fear she jumps right in. Coming out with worms all over her. “And Beth sets the bar way up there!” We cheer for our girl; she has a big smile planted on her face.

Lindsay and Sadie get wigs on their heads. Owen and Izzy have to go on a roughed up looking plane. Leshawna runs, screaming away from Hatchet who’s in a spider costume. 

Next is Heather standing across from a sumo wrestler. “Heather, stepped up to the plate, scoring the Gophers their second point on the board.” 

The wrestler comes running and the girl crouches down, the wrestler trips, falling off the stage. 

Next was Gwen being buried alive, Trent comforts her, giving her a walkie so they could talk. I want to jump in and also comfort the girl but again… Not my place anymore I guess. She wants something I don’t.

As we’re moving onto the next thing, Trent runs past us. “Just talk to him bro and ask him to go away!” Chris yells after him. I tense up realizing I don’t know when a clown is going to come for me. I unconsciously grip onto Cody’s arm. 

“Okay, then, we have 2 minutes before Gwen’s done. Cody, you’re up.” His eyes go up to the host after looking down to see my hands wrapped around his arm. He then looks back up to my face. “You got this.” I give him a thumbs up after letting him go. 

We follow Chris to this trash bomb. I decided to stay with the boy, maybe helping him disconnect it. “All right, Cody This garbage bomb’s going off in exactly 10 minutes. Everything you need to know to defuse it is on these schematic blueprints.” Chris lifts up a blue paper he rolled out. 

“What? No way! I can’t do this!” He exclaims, holding his head, clearly stressed out. “Then I suggest you find a safe place to hide, bro.” The host then throws the paper and I catch it before it hits the ground. “Later, dudes! Also, [Name]! Be careful.” He winks, walking away and my body freezes. 

“Wait, you’re not gonna watch?” Cody questions. “No way, that’s a live bomb, dude!” He then runs away. 

He turns to the trash bomb sighing. “You don’t have to stay, you know?” He takes the paper from my hands and I shrug. “I know but I don’t mind helping.” I smile motioning for him to pull the paper out so we can both read it. 

As we’re reading the paper he speaks up. “What makes you so scared of-” I cover his mouth quickly. “Don’t even, it’s going to manifest it.” I whisper aggressively. “They could be a killer under that mask. Or- or, a kidnapper. And for some reason people just let them go to parties and carnivals.” I rant, not realizing one was right behind me. “[Name], you might want to start running then…” 

Then that stupid clown horn squeaks in my ear and I scream, running away from Cody and the trash bomb. The thing laughs at me and I cry out in fear. “Stay away!” I take off my shoe mid run and throw it back at the clown. It stays hot on my trail and I run past the dock where Trent was soaking wet and Chris was sitting down controlling a cloud of hail following Geoff. 

I notice Heather on the porch and wave more arms around. “Heather! Please!” I wail, going up the porch and throwing her in front of me, shielding myself from the clown that giggles, squeaking the horn again. “What- Let go-” 

It stands on the bottom of the stairs. “Heather, please! Please, don’t make me let go.” I plead with her and she looks back at me, noticing the tears in my eyes. She rolls her eyes and places her hands on her hips. “What do you even want me to do?” She questions and I squeeze my eyes shut, gently holding onto her arms. “Tell it to go away.” I mumble, she then walks down the steps, taking off her sandal. “All right, go away you stupid clown. Shoo! Get away!” She slaps it with her shoe repeatedly and it sadly puts its head down, walking away. 

“Yeah! Go away!” I cheer, and then run up to Heather after I know it’s gone, embracing her tightly. “Thank you! I owe you big time!” I grin, before running off, not letting her respond to me.

 

An explosion occurs and I gasp. “Shit, Cody!” I run to the area where the explosion happened and he’s sitting on the ground covered in trash. “[Name]? Is that you?” He groans, his arms out since he can’t see and even though I’m disgusted I help him up off the ground. 

“I’m so sorry, the clown was just following me and flight or fight, response you know? Heather luckily helped me but I’m still so sorry, I should’ve done something to help.” I ramble on and he tiredly laughs. “It’s okay, I really need a show though.” He sighs, taking the banana peel off his head. We make it through the forest and as we’re walking through he goes in front of me, still groaning from the pain of the explosion.

Bridgette then hits him, screaming before running off. He grunts, falling to the floor once again. “Oh my god, are you okay?” I ask him and he just lays there for a moment. “I’m fine, just- just give me a minute.” He gives up and I laugh.

After Cody takes a shower and I wash my hands we make our way to a pen where Chris and Tyler are standing. The Gophers all made it through their challenges. 

“All right gang, we’re ninth inning. Tyler, for your challenge you need to get in this pen for three minutes with these chickens.” Chris unboxes a momma chicken with two baby chickies. “You can do it Tyler!” Bridgette shouts. “Yeah, unless you’re chicken.” Duncan taunts. Tyler ends up sitting down, cradling himself back and forth. 

“I’m not sure we’re getting anywhere on this one.” Chris says boredly.

“Tyler, this is the last challenge. Quit being such a girl!” Courtney yells at the boy. “You have to do this or we’re going to lose!” Courtney rolls her eyes. 

“Actually if you do the math you can’t possibly win.” Cody calculates then shows the calculator. “The score’s 8-3.”

“Not necessarily. We’ve got one more challenge set up.” Chris says. 

“Who? It can’t be me. But I didn’t-” Courtney goes on confused. “You didn’t have to. We’re always watching you and your reactions.” Chris reminds her. 

“I knew it. Didn’t I tell you guys, they were eavesdropping?” Lindsay angrily asks. “Oh, who cares? It’s not going to make a difference.” Courtney frowns. 

“Let’s make this interesting then. I’ll give you triple points if you can complete it.” He tells her.

We now stand in front of a huge wooden pool of green jello. “You’re afraid of jelly?” Duncan laughs. “Shut up! Only the green kind. It’s like sugary, jiggly snot!” She cries out in disgust. 

“You can face your fear and dive straight into this pool of jelly or let your team lose yet another challenge!” Courtney slumps, making her way to the ladder. “This is insane! I could seriously die doing this.” She climbs up.

“Oh this is just cruel.” Gwen says, “It’s probably warm by now! Warm green jelly. Snotty, bouncy, ugh!” She stifles. 

“You’re not going to make me quit!” Courtney yells down. “That’s it, keep climbing!” Duncan smiles.

“She’s just trying to psych you out!” Bridgette chimes in. “Like you said, Courtney! It’s okay if you can’t do it!” Duncan shouts, I yell up a chicken clucking sound just like I did in our first challenge earning a scowl in response. Once she stands up on the board she thinks about it then covers her face. “I can’t do it! I’m coming down!” She yells, her team all lower their head in disappointment as the Gophers cheer once again. 

“And there you have it! The Gophers won invincibility this week… Again!”

After everything calms down we all chill in our cabin, mostly everyone was on the boys side except me, Gwen, Heather and Lindsay. 

“I gotta go to the bathroom.” Gwen huffs, standing up, stretching out her body. “Ooh! Me too, I’ll come with!” Lindsay grins, following after the goth girl. Gwen scoffs but opens the door for the blonde and they walk out. Heather then stands up and I raise a brow at her. “Dang you have to go too?’ 

“No, I wanted to talk to you about something.” She tells me and I put my book down, giving her my attention. “What’s up, Heather?” I smile softly. “You said you owe me earlier right?” She asks and I slowly nod. 

“Well, before that, I want to apologize for my actions with the whole diary thing. And then by owing me a favor I’d like you to pretend to be my friend for a little bit.” She crosses her arms and I’m taken aback for a moment. 

“Seriously?” I lean closer to her as if I didn’t hear her correctly the first time. “Yes, just don’t expect me to be all nice with Gwen.” She says and I glance around. “What’s the point of this?” 

“Just- please?” She huffs. 

“I-I guess? Just pretending to be friends?” I furrow my brows, her face turns a light shade of pink. “Nevermind-” 

“No, no, I’m down, we can be friends.” I wink, then go back to my book.

Links to other writings

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#duncan #td duncan #td gwen #tdi #tdwt #total drama #total drama bridgette #total drama cody #total drama duncan #total drama fanart #total drama heather #total drama noah #total drama island #total drama world tour #total drama 2023 #total drama reboot #tdi fanart #total drama all stars #tdi noah #tdi courtney #tdi 2023 #tdi cody #tdi duncan #tdi heather #total drama lindsay #total drama leshawna #total drama harold #total drama courtney #td harold #total drama geoff

[thebiggerbear]

Only Ever Holding Onto You - Chapter 3

A/N: Hi all! I hope you all like this chapter. Personally, this is one of my favorites so far because I love Poppernak dearly but also I wanted to delve into the reader a bit more. This is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: a ton of shit (literally)

Word Count: 7114

Text graphics made by me

Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated. 😊

Series Masterlist

You can also read on AO3

Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch

<-->

You cursed quietly when you stepped in dog shit yet again. You took a deep breath to center yourself, knowing there was nothing you could do and that you would have a good hour or two of cleaning every single tread on the sole of your shoes when you got home to make sure all of the fecal matter was gone. For now, grass and a piece of cardboard that Poppernak hopefully had in the back of his car that could double as a floor mat would have to do. You opened your eyes and surged forward…right into another pile of dogshit.

“Motherfuck,” you hissed as you felt the familiar squishy feeling under your foot and the smell predictably wafted up to assault your nose. This place was a goddamn minefield!

You should have known, seeing the state the house was in as well as the makeshift garage. Not to mention the elderly age of the owners and the large lawn mower that clearly sat unused if the yards of rust covering it was anything to go by. This land hadn’t been worked in a long time; how could you expect that they would clean up dogshit where it remained hidden by grass that was long enough to wave with each passing breeze? Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Pops very carefully moving forward on his chosen pathway, obsessively checking the ground before he took a step. It just hit you that there could even be snakes in here and you could be walking through their damn living room. Son of a bitch.

“Hey Pepper Snaps, be careful! There could be snakes,” you called.

“I wasn’t thinking about that but now I am. Thanks, Y/N.”

You may have rolled your eyes and hoped he stepped in the next pile of dogshit instead of you. 

“Did you find Goldie yet?” An old man shouted from behind you.

You turned around to see Lee Knutson, a man in his eighties, watching you from his porch along with his wife Marilyn, also in her eighties. Both of them owned this property and they had placed a call to the police reporting their dog Goldie as missing. They were frantic and because Helena PD loved to pass calls like this onto your department from time to time, here you were, looking for a dog in a place that could double as Jumanji to appease an old couple who loved their dog more than life itself. Hoyt had passed the call onto you with a smirk, saying “You’re an animal lover, right, Y/L/N? Why don’t you and Pop take this one?” Based on her passive aggressive comment, you knew she was still holding a grudge about your calling the Feds in on the Avuna Pharmaceutical case. You knew she had it in for you before that but now, you knew she was doing everything she could to make your life even more of a living hell as punishment. Especially when Beau publicly backed your play; that just made her burn even more. 

Having no choice other than to send Pops alone, you found yourself entering the previously uncharted wild jungle of Helena, Montana, with him right behind you. You both were wading through shit and a yard that looked like it could double as an apocalyptic landscape because you’d had the audacity to try to do the right thing in a case where all parties were concerned. Something that from what you’d heard, Hoyt would have most likely done herself back in the day. You knew deep down though that her fury at you had more to do with Beau refusing to bust your ass than the Feds getting involved. You had decided that you would let it continue to be her problem and just do your job, like always. But damn if you had imagined it would get this bad. You supposed you should be grateful she hadn’t sent you and Pops into a dangerous situation where you might not escape unscathed, like exchanging fire with a perp, though the smell that smacked you in the face when you turned to face the old man had you almost wishing she had. You’d take anything else anyday over this crap.

“Not yet,” you yelled back. “But don’t worry, Mr. Knutson, we’re still looking!” You hoped you sounded more hopeful than you felt. 

It really had been a shitty week, pun fucking intended. 

The morning after the very weird night you’d had at The Boot Heel, Beau wasn’t in the office. Madge told you he had simply called out, claiming that he was taking a few vacation days, and that he knew the department had things handled. You thanked the woman and frowned at Beau’s closed door as you passed. 

You had texted Beau the night before when you arrived home as he had asked you to, and he wished you a good night, letting you know he was safely home as well (he knew you too well). That had been the last time you heard from him which wouldn’t be that strange if he had shown up for work. You forced your worry back down and told yourself you were fretting over nothing, this spike in nerves you had was just a remnant from the previous evening. Your compass was most likely still recalibrating. Beau was fine, everyone and everything was fine, he had a right to take his well-earned vacation time especially since he never really took a day off — you were overreacting. But just to be safe, you texted Emily to check in. She got back to you within a few minutes, letting you know that she and her mom had a full day planned since they now had time to start painting their new home that they had moved into a few months back. 

Carla had been ready to leave Montana after Avery’s death and Emily’s abduction scare but Beau thankfully had talked her into staying, for Emily’s sake, for his sake — all of their sakes. As soon as Carla sold the property she had shared with Avery, Beau helped her and their daughter move into a new home in a closer neighborhood that she was able to get a good deal on. You knew Beau had been relieved when Carla agreed to stay and you had as well, for him and for you. There was no way you wouldn’t try to follow him back down to Houston if he had gone, especially not when Hoyt might take his place where she could make your life miserable full-time and on the county’s dime. Just like she was already doing this week.

Emily promised to send you pictures of the finished product and you wished her luck, telling her to call you if they needed a hand once your shift was over. Em and Carla were fine; that just left Beau.

Before you could type up a text to check in with him, a quick meeting assembled that you had no idea had even been planned. Hoyt took charge and completely dismissed you, laying down the law for the next few days. She would be distributing calls and deciding who to dispatch. Which you found awful funny because that was bound to create issues with the system Beau already had in place. Madge looked slightly put out until Hoyt wrapped an arm around her shoulders and told her she would need the older woman’s help. You watched the entire scene unfold, arms crossed and leaning against the doorway, smirking and enjoying the show. It didn’t surprise you in the least when she approached you and Pops last with your assignments for the morning, a triumphant grin on her face.

“A couple of calls came in late last night that I’d like you two to follow up on.” She handed the sheet of paper to Pops who took it and scanned it quickly. “You don’t mind, do you, Y/L/N?” 

Your smirk widened. She was clearly challenging you, practically daring you to say something. Beau had made it plain to her and the department often enough that you and Hoyt were equal in his eyes. Neither of you had authority over the other one. He told you later when it was just the two of you that he had done that out of respect for your career and experience thus far but also to give you a leg to stand on when it came to Hoyt. He understood that she worked hard in her position as undersheriff and he wasn’t trying to take that from her but he wanted you in the department working with him and he wasn’t going to demote you to make that happen. You were more than appreciative of his willingness to not only take you on and keep you with him but also to make sure you didn’t go backwards in pay or in your career. You found out later he had even taken a slight pay cut himself when he brought you on board, which you duly chastised him for later, not wanting him to sacrifice anymore than he already had. The response he gave you was a simple wink and his usual boyish smile. 

So Hoyt and the department knew where you stood, something the blonde was testing right now because Beau wasn’t here. The department didn’t give a crap if she took advantage and lorded it over you as long as it wasn’t them, and she expected you to either fold or go running to tell Beau or something along those lines. She clearly didn’t know you at all if she expected any type of reaction she was trying to get out of you. Your grin matched hers. “Not at all.”

Her blue eyes narrowed but then you could see the triumph in her smile, thinking she had won some imaginary victory over you. “Great.” You pushed the urge to roll your eyes deep down, knowing that if anything happened with the department over the next few days, the responsibility was on her alone, officially. Unofficially, you’d keep an eye out during Beau’s absence and not let everything turn to complete shit.

Your smile grew so much that your cheeks started to hurt.

Hoyt began to say something else but before she could get a word out, your phone started ringing. You pulled it out of your pocket and the name on the screen sent your heart into overdrive. “Excuse me. I have to take this.” You didn’t wait for Hoyt to respond or Pops, but one quick glance confirmed she had seen the screen as well. The glare she was currently gracing you with was the glare to end all glares. You ignored it and stepped away as planned, hearing her snap at Pops to make sure you didn’t stay on the phone too long and to get out the door, before storming away.

This time, you did roll your eyes, and you picked up the call.

“Beau?”

“Mornin’.” He sounded okay though his voice seemed a little more gravelly than usual. You attributed it to the early hour. 

“Morning. You okay?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just taking a few days.”

“Long overdue,” you agreed.

“Yeah,” he sighed. 

You glanced around and lowered your voice. “You really are okay, though? You’d tell me if something was wrong… Right? Like you coughing twice or asking me to take the pineapple slices off the pizza to indicate you’re being held against your will.”

He let out a laugh and that made you feel lighter than you had a moment ago. “I’m good, Y/N, I promise. Pineapple on pizza? How in the hell is that a pizza topping? I still don’t get it.”

“You would if you would ever try it when I order it.”

“I will never eat that crap. Who puts fruit on pizza anyway? Besides you?”

“A lot of the population in fact. That’s why it’s so popular,” you teased him.

“I’ve lost all hope for society.”

You finished taking a sip of your coffee. “Really? You’ve been working this job now for two decades and a yellow and very delicious fruit put on pizza is what finally did it for you?”

“Fruit doesn’t go on pizza, Y/N. I’m not having this debate with you again. Not this early,” he groaned.

“The trick is to get it without the sauce. That’s how I order it. It’s only weird tasting when the sauce is added into the mix.”

“If there’s no sauce, then how is it pizza?”

You snorted. “Pizza is all about the cheese.”

“And the sauce. Without sauce, it’s just bread and cheese.”

“Which incidentally are two of the most important ingredients for pizza.”

You smiled in victory when an exasperated sigh came down the line. “Okay, you win. So how do I get out of this conversation that’s happening against my will? Do I sneeze twice or ask for extra cheese?”

“Ha ha. You called me, remember that.” In your peripherals, you noticed Pops signaling to you and pointing to his watch. You nodded and held a finger up. Yes, you knew Hoyt couldn’t wait for you to go out on your crappy call list for the morning, and add more to it during the day most likely. Her pettiness could wait a few more minutes. Guaranteed, this was going to be the best part of your day and you weren’t giving it up that easily. “So, what are your plans for today? Have any or are you just taking it easy for the day?” 

“Actually, I’m gonna head over to Carla’s and help her and Em out for the day.”

A small smile settled onto your face. “Em will be really happy to see you.” And both she and Carla would be happy to have the extra practiced hand no doubt. You almost wished you could join them, to help Emily prank her father by rolling paint all over his clothes if for nothing else.

“Yeah, it’ll be good to see her, too. I didn’t get much sleep last night so I spent a lot of time thinking. About work, about life and…everything, and that’s why I took a few days off. I’m gonna try to convince Em to go camping with me over the weekend. I want to spend some time with my daughter before she graduates and goes off to college.”

“Don’t worry. You’ve got some time before that happens,” you murmured soothingly. You knew this was something he worried about, he’d told you often enough. He felt like he was losing time with Emily, that the window he had was closing more and more with each passing day. That feeling only ramped up after Em had been taken hostage. You couldn’t blame him; for the first few months after, you’d hugged Emily a little longer and a little tighter whenever you saw her, something she endlessly rolled her eyes at but kindly allowed you to do each time.

“Not much.”

You bit your lip, choosing to ignore Pops who appeared in front of you, frantically gesturing behind him. Rolling your eyes, you turned to the side, lowering your voice further. “I think it’s a great idea. I’m glad you’re doing this, taking some time for yourself and to spend with Em. To hell with everyone and everything else these next few days, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled.

“And if anyone calls you from the department, I will personally run over their cell phone with my car. Twice.”

“About that…”

“Beau,” you growled in warning, walking away from Pops who was dogging your every step.

“That’s why I’m calling you. I’m not taking any calls from work for the next few days, especially if I get Em to go camping with me. I don’t want any interruptions and I trust that you and Hoyt will have a handle on things while I’m gone.”

You pressed your lips together, hating to lie to your best friend, but it was important for him to take this time. He never willingly took time off and you knew he needed this time with Em, even before he said anything. And for him to have come to this decision so suddenly, you knew he meant it. There was never a single second that Beau hadn’t made himself accessible, day or night, for anyone in the department. So for him to go radio silent intentionally for any period of time, he meant business. “Understood,” you agreed.

“But, Y/N, saying that…I do want you to call me if anything pops up that you think I should know about.”

And there it was, the caveat. “I’m not calling you, Arlen. Like you said, we’ve got this.”

“I mean it. I’m only available to you, Y/N, no one else. I trust your judgment and I know you’ll filter out most of the white noise. But also, if you need anything…you call me.”

“I appreciate that but we’ll be okay,” you reassured, quickly stepping into an empty interrogation room and shutting the door on Pops. You managed to wedge a chair underneath the knob before he could try it, smirking in satisfaction when the door failed to give way and he started knocking instead while calling your name. “And listen, I don’t want to intrude on family time but if you do need a hand with the painting, I can always drop by later, repaint everything you did, take my pineapple pizza I’ll definitely be ordering for a job well done, and go.”

“Hey! I know how to paint!”

“Yeah, you also told me you knew how to cook, too.”

“I can grill,” Beau snapped.

You heard the chair beginning to budge and you pressed all of your weight against the door, trying to prevent Pops from opening it. “Uh huh. I think the charred left corner of your deck would beg to differ.”

“Wow. That was one time and everybody was okay. When are you gonna let that go?”

“Whenever you allow me to call in some hot Helena firefighters next time to put out the fire and let me watch rather than making me extinguish the flames myself with a fire extinguisher I luckily had in my car that day. I was cheated out of muscles and sweat and big, big fire hoses that get everything wet….all that water pressure—”

“Ah, ah, alright, alright. Stop. Bad images in my head. Never coming out now thanks to you.”

You couldn’t help but snicker. “You deserve it. Now, seriously, go enjoy your time with your daughter and leave the department to us. If you need help later or if you just need anything, give me a call.” Pops was pushing against you and you were ashamed to admit you were losing the battle. Your feet were sliding against the floor as the door struggled to open, the chair having been lost some moments ago.

“Thanks. I guess I’ll let you go so you can get to work. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay,” you struggled to get out. “Have fun. Give Em a hug from me.”

“Copy that. And Y/N?”

Pops finally pushed into the room and you had no choice but to abandon your post or be flat up against the wall. “Yeah?”

“Be careful out there.”

Pops was hunched over catching his breath, glaring up at you and pointing to his watch, mouthing “Hoyt”. You smiled sweetly down at him. “You know me. Always am.”

You hadn’t heard from Beau later that day but it was just as well. You had had the day from hell just as you’d expected. You settled down on your couch in the comfiest clothes you could find and binged Real Housewives of Dallas. You normally couldn’t stand these types of reality shows, but this one had grown on you and always provided the perfect distraction. That and Floribama Shore. Beau had been present for at least the first two episodes of the latter to which he stared over at you in disbelief, promptly got up to grab a beer, and told you that he didn’t know you. And you replied back that you didn’t mind as long as he was willing to bring a perfect stranger a beer from your kitchen.

While you were indulging in your comfort show, Em had sent you pictures of the painted rooms as promised. It looked good and you liked the colors she and Carla had picked out. You broke into hysterics when one picture had Beau posing in front of a perfectly painted wall with a smug smirk and holding his arms out proudly. Beau was so lucky you didn’t have the password to the department’s website; you would have uploaded the picture so fast it would have made Poppernak’s head spin. Another picture showed a great selfie of all of the family. You liked that one, all genuine smiles and plenty of paint all over every single one of them (Em obviously had taken your suggestion and started a paint fight, you were so proud), Emily posing in the middle between her parents. It was nice to see them enjoying themselves, especially after the year they’d had. 

You knew it hadn’t been easy for Carla to choose to stay in the same area she and her daughter had experienced so much trauma in; she had told you as much. It was important to her to keep what family she had left together, that’s why she initially wanted to move back to Houston. But when Beau had convinced her to stay, she did it to keep Emily’s family together though it cost her quite a bit personally. You did everything you could to help, leaning into the friendship you used to have with her back in Texas. Not to mention Carla and Cassie had also formed their own sort of friendship thanks to the mutual links of Beau, you, and Emily. There were quite a few times Denise had mentioned to you that she and Cassie had stopped in for tea when Carla was still trying to sell the old property. You all provided as much support as you could, to let her and Emily (and Beau by extension) know that they weren’t alone here.

Your phone chimed with the arrival of a new picture. This one had you bowled over with laughter for the next two minutes. Emily had taken a selfie of her and Beau making horrified faces at the camera, an open box of Hawaiian pizza next to them, the pineapple clear as day on top of the cheese (sans the sauce as you had ordered). Emily had added in text: “Thanks for the pizza…I guess?” You rolled your eyes, smiling, and texted her back that it was pizza and if she could get her dad to eat a piece, she absolutely had to record a video and send it to you. She sent a winky emoji back with a thumbs up when a new message came in from Beau.

You shrugged and quickly typed out a reply. 

You snickered at the emojis he sent in response. Beau didn’t usually do emojis, that had to be Em’s influence, and you sure were getting a kick out of it. 

Satisfied that you had more than made your point about pineapple on pizza being superior, you snuggled down into your pillows and started another episode of Real Housewives. Seeing location shots of Dallas intercut with the episode caused a little pang inside your chest. Perhaps that’s part of the reason you tolerated such a dramatic show. You had only been to Dallas once or twice but still, the images reminded you of home and it provided a tiny salve for your heart, something you needed after such a rough day. Smiling when you were flooded with happy memories, you slowly closed your eyes and you were out like a light before Leanne and Brandi could start fighting for the umpteenth time over who betrayed who while Stephanie watched from the background looking torn.

And the rest of the week had been just as rough. You had come to refer to it as Hell Week between you and Poppernak. Hoyt made sure to give you the worst calls she could pull from the list each morning, either giving them to you directly or giving them to Pops knowing you would join him so he had backup. And you were pretty sure she had Madge dispatching any bullshit calls to you both during the day. Truthfully, it was starting to wear on you a little but you refused to show any trace of it to Hoyt or anyone in the department. That’s exactly what she wanted and you’d die first before giving that spiteful little blonde one goddamn inch.

Poppernak had even mentioned something one afternoon as you rode about an hour outside of town for a new case. It wasn’t his norm to make comments on the ongoing conflict between you and Hoyt, choosing to cruise in neutral territory instead, but that’s how much of a fucked up week it had been.

“Man, what did you do to piss off Hoyt this time?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I was born, I guess.”

He chuckled nervously and shook his head, turning his gaze back onto the road. “Or something.”

“Or something,” you echoed. 

You hadn’t heard from Beau in a couple of days except for a single text message to let you know that he had convinced Emily to go camping after all. He asked if everything was going okay and you assured him that all was well. It was a lie of course but you refused to tell him the truth. You were a big girl and you could take care of yourself. Besides, you chose to meet Hoyt’s petty bullshit with indifference. 

And now you here were, schlepping through three foot long grass like you were on a fucking safari, looking for some old couple’s runaway dog and finding every conceivable pile of dog shit for you to plow through. Pops was whistling and calling out for the dog in his area and you were pretty sure he hadn’t moved any further since you warned him about potential snakes. Normally, you would have rolled your eyes and planned to tease him later about his apprehension, but in this situation, you couldn’t help but think that he was the smart one. You kept surging forward blindly, hence the crap all over your shoes. 

You had made it a few more feet when suddenly a dark head popped up not that far from your position, startling you and making you gasp. Your eyes went wide when you realized what you were looking at. Was that a…wolf? A goddamn wolf? 

Poppernak called out the name of the dog, and the wolf’s head snapped in his direction. You were stunned, but you still had enough presence of mind to call over to your partner albeit calmly so as not to startle the animal in front of you. “Pops! Shhh.”

“What was that, Y/N? I didn’t catch that. You see something?” He yelled back, making you grind your teeth together.

You carefully raised a hand in his direction to get his attention. “I need you to be quiet,” you carefully enunciated as you watched the wolf staring you down. “There is a wolf in front of me.”

“I’m sorry, did you say a wolf?” Poppernak cried out in a mix of disbelief and alarm. You bit your lip to keep from screaming out at him to shut his trap like you desperately wanted to. The more loud sounds that were made seemed to agitate the wolf and you were right in its sights. If you somehow survived this, you were going to give Pops a serious talking to. If you told him to shut it out in the field while working with him, he needed to shut his damn mouth, no questions asked, case closed.

“Pops, stop making so much noise. You’re pissing it off,” you said as calmly as possible.

“What do you want me to do?” Pops chose to loudly whisper instead. “Should I call Animal Control?”

The wolf bared its teeth at you and growled. Great.

“Don’t think that’s gonna help.”

You watched as the animal tensed and coiled in a backwards motion, almost as if it was getting into an attack position. Your instincts warred with one another; you wanted to reach for your gun to protect yourself but you also didn’t want to make any movements that might pose more of a threat. From the continued growling and its yellow-eyed laser focus on you, it was obvious you were already considered one.

“Y/N,” Poppernak stage whispered to you. “What do I do?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered back. “They didn’t cover wolves in training at the academy.”

“I don’t know, either.”

“You’re from around here, Pops. How the hell do you not know what to do?”

“Hey, they didn’t cover this in training here, either. That’s why we have Animal Control.”

“Pops!”

“Okay, okay. Whatever you do, don’t look it in the eyes. I think I remember my grandpa telling me if you do that with a bear, they’ll take it as a challenge and it’ll make them want to attack.”

The wolf growled at you and coiled back further, making you let out a nervous breath. “It’s a little late for that, Pepper Snaps.”

“Hang on, Y/N. I’m coming.”

“No! Stay where you are!” You yelled out in shock, wincing when you realized your mistake.

You saw more teeth and heard another growl. You decided the hell with it, and slowly moved to grab your gun. This thing was going to attack you, that was obvious, and while you’d rather it just turn and run in the opposite direction, you had to defend yourself. At that very inopportune moment, your phone vibrated in your pocket and your head snapped up, gasping when you noticed the animal ready itself to spring at you. This was it; you were done for. One of your last thoughts was that you hoped your being mauled by one of the apex predators of Montana finally lit a fire under Beau to prompt him to action and he ripped Hoyt a new one for sending you and Pops out into the fucking wilderness with no backup or protection.

“Goldie!” The old man called out from the porch. “Here, girl!” He’d obviously given up trusting that you and Poppernak would find his dog. Based on the wolf in front of you, you had a feeling you knew where the missing pet had gone. 

Almost as if it heard that thought and it had reached its limit on irritation, the animal growled and sprung forward at you, making you surge backwards and cry out as you fell promptly on your ass, right into several piles of dogshit you had somehow missed before. You held an arm up in front of your face as a last defense and closed your eyes, anticipating the feeling of those sharp teeth you had seen and the ensuing pain.

“Y/N!” Poppernak shouted. You could hear him running towards you. “I’m coming!”

 Much to your surprise, the pain didn’t come. The impact didn’t even happen. Your eyes snapped open in time to see a tail whooshing past you. In shock, you watched as the wolf broke into a run towards the house. 

“Pops! It’s heading towards the house!” You managed to get out. “The Knutsons!”

“Oh shit!” Had this been any other time, you would have laughed in surprise at Pops’ cursing; he never cursed. But this wasn’t any other time. “Mr. Knutson, get in the house! Get Mrs. Knutson and get inside! NOW!”

You went into a panic when you saw Lee make eye contact with the animal and instead of grabbing his wife and fleeing into the house as Pops instructed, a huge smile broke out onto his face and he held his arms out. “Goldie!”

The wolf increased its speed and you pulled your gun, jumping to your feet and running as fast as you could, Poppernak not too far behind you, both of you thinking the same thing: Lee was old and his eyesight might not be the best. He probably believed he saw his dog running towards him and being overwhelmed with relief, he didn’t think anything of it. He probably hadn’t even heard Pops’ yells too well, either, but even if he had, he’d probably think the deputy was mistaken. He was seeing his dog returning home to him. There was no way you were going to match the speed of the animal, it was going to beat you to the Knutsons, but you were determined to try. You just hoped you got there in time enough that the injuries wouldn’t be too bad. 

You heard the wolf bark as it jumped onto the porch, right at the old man. “Get back, sir!” Poppernak yelled next to you. Your lungs and legs were burning, but you pushed yourself to pick up speed and gave it all you had, making leaps over little objects that littered the portion of the yard you were in to give yourself more momentum.    

But to your surprise, the wolf stopped right before colliding with Lee, and instead raised up on its hind legs, placing its paws on his chest. “Shit,” you panted out and pumped your arms to help you move even faster. The wolf’s tongue was hanging out in between barks and you were close enough now to hear it let out a few cries, too. But thankfully, it didn’t attack Lee, or Marilyn when she got up and hurried over, the smile on her face mirroring her husband’s. It also didn’t bite Lee as he petted its huge head.

“Goldie! Where have you been? We’ve been so worried about you!” The wolf barked in the man’s face, making him laugh.

You and Poppernak came to a halt right in front of the house and began to raise your guns to porch level and stopped, thinking the older couple was still confused. “Mr. Knutson, be very careful,” the deputy warned. “Don’t make any sudden movements.”

Both Lee and Marilyn glanced down at you in confusion. “What do you mean?” The former asked.

“Mrs. Knutson, carefully step away, slowly,” you added. You were still working out in your head how you were going to get Lee safely out of the way and how you could scare the wolf off so you wouldn’t have to shoot it. Poppernak could then call Animal Control and get them out here so the Knutsons would be safe. Catching a whiff of yourself, realizing it was actually wolf shit you had been trekking through this entire time, you even entertained the thought of looking into getting someone out here to clean up the property for them.

Marilyn’s brows furrowed. “Why? You found our Goldie!”

“Ma’am, that’s not Goldie,” Pops calmly stated, both of your eyes still centered on the large animal who growled in your direction.

“Yes, it is!” Lee insisted.

“Sir,” you began. “I’m afraid it’s not.” You really didn’t desire to tell these people that their beloved dog was gone, most likely killed by the predator in front of them, but that was something you could worry about after everyone was safe. 

“It is too Goldie! Watch!” Lee glanced down at the animal, forcing it to make eye contact. “Goldie, sit!”

And to both yours and Poppernak’s shock, the wolf jumped down and did just that, looking as docile as any well-trained pet. 

“Good girl,” Lee praised. “Now, lay down.” The wolf again did as the old man instructed, wagging its tail.

You and your partner exchanged a mystified look; had the Knutsons been feeding a wolf this whole time? And now it was following their commands? How was this even possible? Just when you thought you’d seen everything.

Lee began to laugh. “Oh, I see. You think she’s a wolf from the wild, right?” 

You failed to see the humor and swiftly nodded, still keeping your eye on the animal. “She’s not?” Poppernak asked in disbelief.

“Oh my Lord, no. Goldie here is a hybrid. We’ve had her since she was a pup. Got her from a breeder. So you can relax now and put those guns away. You’re making her nervous.”

Poppernak slowly placed his back in his holster but you simply lowered yours. The wolf may now be watching you in keen interest, tongue lolling out of its mouth and panting heavily, but you still remembered how aggressive it looked back in the yard when you came across it. You weren’t blindly trusting what the old man was telling you; you needed proof first.

“Mr. Knutson, when I asked you what your dog looked like, you told me it had black fur and yellow—”

“Eyes,” Lee finished for you. “That’s why we call her Goldie. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

One glance at the wolf confirmed the rich gold staring back at you. 

“But when we asked you the breed, you said it was a mutt, half King Shepherd. Not to mention it was about to attack Y/L/N here.” You gave a subtle nod of appreciation to your partner at that last little mention. Both of you were trying to desperately make sense of this odd situation. Especially since you asked for a photo of Goldie and you were told you didn’t need one since she had to be lost on the property somewhere, possibly hurt or dying. It wasn’t like her not to come home by nightfall; her being missing for two days straight, she was in trouble. Their urgency overrode your attempts to get a visual of the animal you were looking for. You’d even tried to persuade them to supply you with a photo anyway but Lee had been adamant, which is exactly why you and Pops had been making your way through the endless yard.

“That’s her dog half. And a hybrid is a mutt,” Lee mused, smiling down at his pet. “I know she’s big and scary looking but I assure you she’s harmless. You probably just scared her is all. She doesn’t care for trespassers and she’s a little wary of visitors.” Marilyn nodded along with him.

You looked over at Pops who gave you a shrug, unsure of how to proceed. You let out a heavy breath and slipped your gun back into your holster, your gaze landing back on the wolf who laid her head down on her paws, almost as if she was trying to look innocent of the accusation that had just been made against her. Your eyes lifted to her owner when a thought hit you.

“You got her from a breeder, you say? Surely you’ll have papers for her then.”

Lee scratched at his head. “We do, somewhere. It’d take us forever to find it but, hey! You ask the sheriff or Miss Hoyt. They know Goldie, they know she’s legal.”

Your jaw tensed at the mention of the undersheriff. You knew she was saving the worst calls for you to go out on and you had accepted this week was pure hell that you would get through no matter what, but this…this was just plain vindictiveness at its best. Now the smirk she’d given you when giving you this call made sense, along with her insisting Animal Control wasn’t needed when you mentioned it and the Knutsons were a lovely old couple that just needed a little hand holding since they didn’t have anyone else, their kids and grandkids having long ago moved out of state.

“Y/L/N, the dog is probably somewhere in the yard and they don’t even know it. It would mean a lot to them if we respond to let them know we’re taking it seriously. Just go out there, look around, whistle a few times, and if the dog doesn’t come running, then tell them we’ll put flyers up. Open and shut case, trust me.”

You weren’t a violent person by any means. You could certainly hold your own in a fight but that wasn’t the way you preferred to resolve things. But if Hoyt were here in front of you right this second, you would have decked her.

You glared over at Poppernak who was gaping over at you. He seemed just as surprised as you so that made you feel slightly better. At least the whole department hadn’t been in on this. You gave Lee a curt nod and turned to head back to the car, more than done for the day, when you heard a loud gasp from behind you.

“Oh, honey.” You spun around, thinking the worst only to find Marilyn holding a hand over her mouth, her gaze intent on you, while Lee appeared to be struggling to hold in a laugh. You knew it before she even said it. “You are just covered in…in…”

“Dog shit,” Lee finished for his wife and burst out into laughter. Goldie began barking excitedly, almost as if she was trying to laugh along with her owner. She ignored the glare you sent her way and kept on barking. You glanced down and you were indeed covered in the excrement. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Pops hold a closed fist up to his mouth, making a sound that suspiciously sounded like a chuckle and taking a step away from you. You scowled over at him, daring him to join in the laughter. The chuckle morphed into a sudden cough mixed in with a throat clearing, his expression turning sheepish.

Marilyn didn’t laugh, though. “I have some baby wipes,” she offered.

“Thank you,” you grumbled, not able to inject any gratitude into your voice just then. You hoped you didn’t sound too rude. Baby wipes were certainly better than nothing. 

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” Marilyn hurried inside the house and you couldn’t help but continue to glare at the dog who watched you intently, tongue hanging out, not a care in the world, and a gleam in her golden eyes that confirmed for you that she found your predicament just as entertaining as her owner did. You shot her a ferocious glare as you worked to get your jacket off carefully with Poppernak’s help. Seeing the excrement now caked underneath your fingernails, you left out an irritated huff. Hell week indeed.

A/N: This was the image I had in my head of Goldie btw (black fur, yellowish eyes):

This is a full on wolf but definitely the look could fit the hybrid I think, depending on genetics and the dog breed of course.

#beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x y/n #beau x reader #beau x female reader #beau x you #beau x y/n #beau arlen #big sky fanfiction

[skippyv20]

Hi Skippy & Friends-Pilgrim here getting to the bottom of this sneaky system we were not fully aware of it seems. Here are a few quotes from “Public Service or Propaganda? a 2014 Time Magazine article by Phil Bicker. This is just about the time the con artist grifter was getting into her groove of gaslighting. Discovering this wide-open arena must have been like finding the Golden Fleece for her.

"Many images published around the world on a daily basis are not taken by news organizations or commissioned by magazines, but are instead provided by third-party vendors who are, for various reasons, closer to the source of the story. Whether viewed as a public service or as propaganda, widely disseminated handout images provide visual material the public would otherwise rarely see. They can also, at times, constitute a minefield for the sources and publishers working with the material.”

It mentions the use of photos from places in the world no one is allowed like North Korea or where most humans can’t get to like space. But then there is this side of the coin. “Publicity machines, PR organizations, educational institutions and activist organizations like Greenpeace are also players in the handout business.”

“News organizations — AP, Reuters, Getty — who carefully vet these images to determine authenticity and the motives of those supplying them distribute these photos and, in a sense, validate them. Handouts distributed via the news agencies do bear a warning for those who receive them: namely, that the image was provided by a third party. However, sometimes this level of transparency and accuracy is not embraced by the media organizations who receive and disseminate the material to the public.” The christening photo and many others supplied by the Sussex PR machine with phony meta data information they plugged in, was deemed acceptable by these wizards of news!!

What a sham! For decades these news organizations have pandered images from con artists, making untold millions for all of them! They sell us garbage in the name of truth and now are cowering like the sleazeballs they are, hiding behind pithy excuses-or paid off photographers?! I think every Handout photo printed in the press needs to have a red HANDOUT stamp with the name of who provided it. The sensational Sussex photos went worldwide and were presented as truth, coming from the royal family!!! This will not be swept under the worn-out carpet and people like Ms Carparkle who abuse this shady system to the max needs to be stopped and identified as the desperate fraud she has become. Over and out for now.

Great post!  Thank you so much dear Pilgrim!  Much appreciated!🙂❤️