#SURFING AUTOMATICALLY MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER TRUST ME I KNOW

[wazzappp]

SURFER ROBBIE

[thefanficmonster]

Just Another One

Sequel to: ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’

Corpse Husband x Actress!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Mention of bad past relationships, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: They keep proving each other right in the most wrong ways possible. They each want to be guarded even if that means the other will be hurt. Maybe that’s what they want - to hurt one another because they’ve already hurt each other once before.

Requested by the lovely readers who enjoyed the previous fic ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’. Sorry for the large time gap between the posting of the two fics but I still hope you guys will take the time to read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love you all with all my heart, Vy ❤

When you go out of your way to avoid leaving the house your options of entertainment are severely limited and you can’t blame anyone or anything but yourself for it. Today, I wouldn’t have gone out of my apartment even if I was one of those people who frequent the outdoors seeing as how the sky is trying to flood the Earth with all this nonstop rain. It does set a mood for a perfect night in but when you spend all your nights in doing the same thing over and over again, the atmosphere is practically meaningless. And so I ‘ve decided to resort to channel surfing as though I’ll find something interesting on TV that I haven’t yet seen on one of my social media timelines.

I pass several cooking channels on my journey, making a mental note of their individual numbers in case I don’t stumble across anything capable of better distracting me from my boredom and loneliness that’s slowly starting to creep in. I pass by a few movie channels showing teenage romcoms as if to celebrate the start of summer so you can imagine how quickly I moved on from those. Then come the celebrity channels which can often get a laugh out of me because of how pathetic and unbelievably ridiculous they are. And so, I stick around one where there’s a broadcast on a movie showing that’s happening tonight in LA. Oddly enough, despite my anxiety, going to a movie showing has always been on my list of things I’d want to do. This can be considered living vicariously or rubbing salt into the wound that I’ll probably never go because my anxiety and fear of being recognized is too severe. Either way I stick around to watch it.

And man do I regret it now looking at several different angels of a couple of actors entering the venue where they are to be photographed and asked questions by the mob of paparazzi that’s gathered due to the massive event. That in and of itself doesn’t sound - and really isn’t - so bad. However, it’s important to note that the actress in this duo is Y/N. Y/N L/N. My Y/N....shit, sorry, I mean my FRIEND Y/N, her arm linked with whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is who is holding an umbrella above the both of them, shielding them from the downpour of rain that is also taking place in LA apparently.

“The two were seen entering the venue earlier this evening, looking particularly cozy in each other’s presence if I do say so myself. The rain probably worked nicely in their favor.“ The first reporter says, her teasing tone of voice sending chills of anger down my spine as I glare at the screen, hands balled in fists, jaw clenched - all my body’s instinctive reactions to what is being shown to me. I know I technically have no right to behave or feel this way, in fact I should be fucking happy for Y/N and her successful career and the progress in her love life. But damn it how can I?! I was so damn close to kissing this girl! I was so fucking close to falling in another trap, tripping and landing in the embrace of another liar and user, another girl who switches partners more often than shoes. How could I’ve been so reckless to get so close to her even platonically? How did we become close enough for me to 1) show her my face; 2) start inviting her over to my apartment regularly; and how didn’t I notice the kind of messed up person she was all that time.

She was all sweet and flirting and shit a week or so ago and now she’s doing the exact same thing with him! The cameras are capturing them perfectly: every laugh, every exchange of a knowing look or nod, ever smack to his arm when he tells a joke. But what bothers me most is the many times he’s wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer. Not just for pictures, but just because the fucker felt like it! And Y/N doesn’t seem to mind it at all. 

“They have been the talk of the town recently, so while they could just be adding fuel to the fire, they could also have been caught by the flame and ‘caught feelings’ as they say. Regardless these two are a view we’d like to see more often.“ The other reporter says and that’s the final straw.

In one swift motion I turn the TV off and throw the remote across the room. It hits the wall and falls to the ground in several pieces, broken by the force of the impact. Just like I am broken by the force of the impact of these news. I don’t know which is worse: the fact that I fell for her and almost let her know it; the fact that she’s just another member of the club I don’t want anywhere near my life; or the fact that I can’t believe it.

Yeah that’s right - one foolish part of me refuses to believe that’s she’d do such a thing. I think that’s the same part which is still in awe of her so you can bet I ignore that part the majority of the time.

She is just another one. Not the one. Having been hurt before doesn’t mean she won’t hurt me or anyone else she’s gonna be with. Hurt people hurt people.

And damn has she hurt me, probably without knowing a damn thing. How selfish can you be, Y/N? How selfish can you really get? And how much am I going to allow you to hurt me?

                                                             *  *  *

“Thank you so much, Andrew. I would’ve died on the spot of anxiety if I was on my own.“ I say to my best friend who is currently sitting next to me on a park bench, in a tux, eating a cheeseburger. I too am still in my gown and am also gorging on a cheeseburger of my own.

“Don’t mention it. Us anxious people need to stick together.“ He bumps his shoulder against mine, stealing a small genuine smile from me, “Plus I couldn’t not come with you. You know how much I like a good rumor.“

I scoff, “Of course you do, but then again there was no need to add to what the media has already made a whole-ass ship out of.” I roll my eyes and take another bite. My appetite hasn’t been in its best condition so I’m only eating this under Andrew’s orders. I have no idea how people can ship us romantically, he’s the definition of an older - and very bossy - brother to me. I wish I could tell each and every single one of those girls who hate me because I’ve ‘stolen their man’ that I’d most likely be their sister in law rather than man snatcher, seeing as how my relationship with Andrew is so sibling-like.

That’s because we’re too alike, no one gets that. People play the ‘opposites attract’ car more often than I consider rational. But  then again when they see a couple like Andrew and I - who are basically the same person in different bodies - they suddenly think we’re super compatible. Trust me, we’re not. And everyone who’s been on set with us will tell you the same.

“What can I say...“ he shrugs, smirking at me, “I like the fun. I bet Becca doesn’t though.“

I can’t help but huff. Andrew is the only one I’ve ever openly expressed my frustrations with Rebecca to. He was super helpful on the subject, seeing as how he can relate - many partners of his have tried to use him, some of which even succeeded. He’s more than qualified to school me on the topic but it turned more into sharing bad experiences. One of which was that instance back at Corpse’s apartment.

“And neither does Corpse I suppose.“ As though he’s read my mind, he pokes the hurt spot, pouring salt in the wound causing me to visibly cringe as though the pain was physical - because it was, I felt it in my chest and in my gut, a sharp stab of guilt and regret. 

Why did I let it come to that? Why did I let us get so close? How did I not think of the consequences?

“I don’t care if he does or doesn’t.“ My hand automatically reaches for the pocket of the jeans I’m not even wearing in search of a cigarette. Not that I’d be able to light one even if I had them on me - Andrew would smack it out of my hand before I could even take a single puff.

He has the audacity to laugh, “You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.”

That’s all he needs to say really - that’s enough to make me feel seen and understood. Though that’s not always a good thing. I often times wish he couldn’t read me so well. Better said: I wish I didn’t let myself be so readable, you know. I’m just glad he’s the one who sees me because if it were anyone else they’d use this vulnerability of mine against me. I’m well aware that it’s a weakness, a really inconvenient one, but damn it I can’t get rid of it. I feel like I’ll be less human if I lose it. Everyone’s allowed to be vulnerable, some just are lucky enough to choose who they’ll be vulnerable around. I’m lucky enough to to have a choice, not so lucky in the people I choose to trust. Guess that’s not a luck thing, it’s just my inability to decipher whether a person is worth all the pain and torture of coming clean to them or not. So far many people have burnt me but two stick out in particular - Becca and Corpse. Corpse especially, which is the odd thing considering he hasn’t even wronged me in any way. At least not yet.

“Your phone’s vibrating.“ Andrew says, pulling me out of my overflowing head when he hands me my phone which I handed to him because of my dress’ lack of pockets.

“Thanks.“ I mutter through a sigh as I take it from him, checking the notification I’ve gotten.

My stomach drops: it’s a message from Corpse.

“Hey I saw you are in LA but we have a stream tomorrow, will you still be participating?“

Before I can reply, he sends me another message.

“I know you’re probably very busy but we get the most viewership on the streams when you’re in them so....“

I’ve probably been staring at my phone screen for longer than I thought since Andrew felt the need to make sure I was still breathing: “Hey, you ok? You look terribly pale.” I can barely hear him let alone reply. I can’t hear my own thoughts to know what to reply to him. “Y/N, you’re scaring me.”

I’m scaring myself too, Andrew. I’m scared too. I’m scared of how broken my picker has become. I almost kissed this guy! I almost entrusted all my thoughts, hopes, wishes and goals to him! What the fuck was I thinking?! Well, at least I know what he was thinking about - viewership. Likes, subs, views, publicity. The more eyes on the stream the better for him and everyone else. I genuinely want to applaud him, no one has been so direct about using me before. I was in a relationship with Becca for almost a year before I accidentally found out what she had been doing the whole time. No one’s ever smacked me in the face with this much honesty. It’s bittersweet really.

I want to laugh, I want to cry, slap myself across the face, slap him...I want to do so much, but all I can do now is sit in silence and think of how I could be so stupid.

He’s just another one, how did I not see that? How do I never see it until it’s too late? Why is one part of me still screaming: ‘He didn’t mean it like that!’

AND WHY THE FUCK DO I WANT TO BELIEVE IT?

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[calientecoochie]

It Happened So Fast-

•2•

“AHH”

The red giant backed up and put his hands up in the air and waved them frantically. “<Wha-hooooahh! Calm down. Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you! That’s wasn’t very manly was it. Gah, bad first impression, I guess, ha.” The redhead rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“<You’re Red Riot. The~huh~ the Red Riot>” Yes, yes you were gaping like a fish in a desert. How could a man be so tall?! He is literally towering over everybody here. What is he like 7’?! Does his bones hurt? What the hell is a Bakugo... Oh, he staring at me. How long have I been staring!

“<Uhmm>” Red Riot waves his hands in front of your face, “Helloooo, anybody, homeeeee?” His voice sounds so velvety and heroic. “<I should really work on my introductions...this happens way more often then it should. Let me write that down so I don’t forget.>” The Pro Hero stares down at you, “<I’ll give you a lift, Y/N, since you’re like in a trance. LET’S GO TO MY OFFICE! I CAN SHOW YOU PICTURES FROM MY UA DAYS AND SOME COOL AWARDS. SO MANLY!>” With that your new boss lifted you up and threw you over his broad shoulders.

He continued to talk Y/N’s ear off with you not understanding much of what Red was saying but, appreciating it either way seeing as it was helping you unwind from the earlier shock. As the pair walked through the agency, Y/N took in the place. Even though, the place is a big on inside as it was on the outside, it wasn’t as daunting as you thought it would be. The people and heroes around here are smiling and waving towards you. You were handed a balloon with a crudely drawn face (it was meant to resemble you) with a many , “おめでとう” thrown your way as you and your boss entered the elevator.

“<Here we go! Can you stand?>” Red sets you down on your feet with ease as he presses the button to his floor. He drums his fingers across the steel doors then turn towards you with one of his award winning smiles. You swear it melt the steel in these elevators, it’s so bright. “<Not going to freak out on my again are you? Y/N>” He tested your name on his tongue, “<Am I saying that right? Ah, I forgot to ask, would you prefer Japanese> or English?” He look at you thoughtfully.

“That’s right. I have not been responding have I?”

“Nope! You have not but, that’s cool. I have a great feeling about you so, I know you’ll be a strong backbone to this company!”

All you could do was stare back in a dream-like state. Look at you! Shame! Getting all star-struck and dumb even being in this man’s presence. Tsk tsk. Better keep this conversation rolling so it doesn’t get awkward. “You were right..”

“Huh, right about what?

“My name. You said it correctly. Ha, pretty funny too, I’m used to people pronouncing it wrong.”

“Well, that’s not very fair to you. It’s your name and it’s a manly name!” Red puffed through his nostrils and smirked.

You bowed you head to hide your blush, “ Thank you, Red Riot.” Why are you acting like this it is so NOT professional at. All.

Red Riot let out a boisterous laugh that you swore shook the elevator, “You don’t have to refer to me by my hero name you know? Just call me Kirishima or even Kiri. Honestly, anything is cool as long as I don’t get called sir. That makes me feel old. Red Riot is reserved for field work though.” With that he winked at you.

“Oh, then, thank you Kir-!”

D I N G

“We’re here!!” He yoinks you from the elevator into his suave office, “ Hasa De Lo Eiji!!”

You heard Sero’s voice speak up, “Casa De La, Ei, casa de la...” He sitting upside down in one of Kirishima’s office chairs surfing his phone looking through Twatter. You thought he was ignoring you until he started waving and kicking his lanky legs excitedly.

Denki was just spinning in Kirishima’s main seat, “<YOU FOUND THEM, MAN?!>”

“<Well, they wasn’t exactly hiding and don’t think there’s many people of their skin tone here in Japan, Denk...>” You only caught a bits and pieces of their conversation, making you giggle a bit.

Denki looked over to you, “Oohoo, you like that, huh? Say how about we get to know each other better? One on one? There’s this really cool place in Shinjuku I’ve been dying to try. Would love to have someone to try it with. Being alone is such a bummer~” While Denki was distracted, Kirishima took his chance and sat in his friend’s lap causing Denki to sputter and attempt to push his taller, “built like a German, concrete home” friend off of him. Shame, you were actually about to take Denki up on his offer. You did want to see what Japan had to offer and it did suck to be alone sometimes.

The day continued as you four began to talk about you, their hero work, the past and, what was in store for the upcoming week. Soon, Denki and Sero left to attended to their own business (they went to Shinjuku), which just left you and Kirishima. You though it would it be awkward, however, it strangely felt like home. This was different from what your country’s media always portrayed of him: Hardy, cold and relentless. Even though that’s what drew you to him, this Kirishima was a nice change of pace as well.

“Hey, hey, Y/N you’re staring again.” The redhead smiled.

“Didn’t mean to, Kirishima. It’s just that you’re so different in real life! I hope you don’t mind me saying but, though you were this boulder of destruction.”

“Not too disappointing, I hope.” He leans his head in his hand, laughing a tiny bit.

“No! Of course not!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking!”

You both just laugh and it dies downs leaving a comfortable silence betwixt you again.

“Well, you got the job for sure!”

“Really t—that’s it?!”

“Yup”

“No strenuous questions?”

“Nope”

“No previous references or written letters from previous employers?”

“Nnurp” he audibly pop his lips to add emphasis to his negatory.

“No-“

“Do you want the job?”

“Of course! It’s just that yo-“

“Then you have it. I have a good feeling about you! I learned to trust my instincts. Obviously, yours brought here to freaking Japan-“

“Well, my friend sent me the email...”

“YOU put in for it and YOU got it. Enjoy it :)”

You rubbed your chin in thought. Starting to overthink the situation and your new way too laidback boss. Was this a mistake? Did I make a good call? As if he could read you mind, Kiri laid his firm hand upon your shoulder, “Let’s get some grub! I can take you home afterwards!”

With that, you’re new life began and with each day you grew more confident in your choices. You learned so many new tips and tricks, learned about and met new people (some more despicable then others), it was like a dream come true. First, you needed Kiri told hold your hand at the beginning, which made you doubt yourself from time to time. However, you got better and faster, already your talent to the max.

The only thing you hated doing the most were the public conferences. They always asked the same questions hoping for different answers or asked about way too personal questions about the heroes within Kirishima’s agency. Questions that would make the man on moon blush. However, you always seemed to Beyoncé your way out of their scandalous questions and steer it right back to where you wanted it.

Of course, your work never went unnoticed or unappreciated. The agency always made sure to make feel wanted and needed. Hah, Bakugo even came in and tried to recruit you for his own agency, in front of your boss. It’s all just been so crazy. It’s almost insane to think it’s almost been a year here. You even remember your old life. To think, you thought the email was a joke. What would I be doing if I never answered it... No point on dwelling on it you guess.

You hear heavy footsteps coming toward your door.

*Clink Click*

“Hmm, I thought these lights shut off automatically... strange” It was your boss! “Let me flu-Oh! Oh, you’re still here?! Y/N , it’s practically morning right now. Why are you still working?”

“You wouldn’t know I was still here if you weren’t here yourself so, Red, what’s your excuse?” You looked up at him playfully smug.

You don’t remember if he’s been flushed from rushing into the office or for his new nickname but, he looked away and swore he tripped on his words when he spoke. “Other than it being my agency, Y/N so, MY responsibility, I like to go for early morning runs. You could probs just call it conditioning from school days. It helps keep my mind from overthinking I guess.

“Overthinking? About what?”

“Heh, what not about” There was a strange unplaceable tone in his voice. He said that sentence barely above a whisper but, you caught it. Kirishima look back towards you and beams. Is he- is he putting up a mask?! Not wanting to strain your work relationship you choose not to press him on the matter. Turning back to your desktop to continue your work until Kiri blocked it. Damn his thick man body!

“Could you please move,Kirishima.”

“Nuh-uh, not until you tell me why you’re still up here working at this ungodly hour.”

You leaned into your seat giving up on trying to move him, you sigh and then smile to yourself not sure if he could see it or not, “ Fine, I’ll spill. I work this late because I love this job. Nowhere else has given me this opportunity and I’m so thankful. I’ve felt so lost for the longest and about gave up on myself. I work this late because I love my friend, they were the ones who even let this opportunity land in my lap even though, they could have easily taken this job. They had more experience. I love my coworkers. Ha, I’ve never been so overwhelmed by support by so many strangers. It’s really emotional and I would hate to let them down. I do all of this because I love and appreciate you, Red... you’ve always stayed by my side and gave encouragement when I needed. Lacking in my work would be like spitting in your face and I would hate for that to happen...”

You keep your eyes shut for a few more seconds soaking in what you just said. It’s been eating at you forever. You’ve long forgotten about how Kiri was like a barnacle stuck to screen and I guess he did as well, seeing as was standing up straight, mouth opening and closing and fiddling with his hands. You look up at him, “That’s why I’m here. You don’t have to worry over me. I’m not a child. Plus, I got YOU and your HERO amigos/amigas on speed dial.” Sero’s been trying to teach you Spanish 💀, it is not working.

“...Do you mean that? You love me?”

“Of course I do, Red.” Kirishima drawn closer to Y/N, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just thought it would be too soon to make a call..”

“I love you , Kirishima...”

“Y-you could call me, Eij-“

“As much as I love Sero and Denki! You all mean so much to me!”

You noted that Kirishima seemed to deflate at your next sentence and even took a step back, “Red, you okay? Need water?”

Kiri shook his head, “N-No I guess I’m just coming down from my runners high! Ha, it always makes me a bit woozy y’know.”

“Oh~”

“Yeahhhh. Welp! Just dont Forget it’s your day off tomorrow okay. No coming in! No matter how much you //luhhhh// us.” That was weird. Luh? ,”Oh I also have a question. The hero gala is coming up soon and we have to bring a +1. Would you like to come with me? I’ll cover your clothes~!”

“The Hero Gala?? Are you sure wouldn’t you want to bring another, I don’t know, hero?”

“Well, I could but, I asked you. You were my first choice either way. If it’ll help you could think about it like good PR.”

As you always do, you think about it. Unlike the other times, your mind was already made up.

“Yes, Red, I would love to go.”

[hmsjiara]

pretty hot for a pogue » jiara

gif credits to @jackpearcsn​

The words slip past Rafe’s lips without him having to think, a taunt that he knows will hit JJ where it hurts— right in the heart.

“Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a Pogue.”

Because they have a history, him and JJ, and those words call back to a comment he’d made at the Boneyard a year ago, immediately followed by JJ punching him in the face.

So, Rafe knows what’s going to happen next before it does: JJ goes still, and then he snaps.

—

or jj and rafe have a history, and kiara carrera just happens to be at the center of it.

trigger warnings: roofies, implied/attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, brief mentions of abuse. 

read it under the cut or here on ao3!

Normally, Rafe actively tries to avoid paying attention to the Pogues. Because they’re not worth his time, and it just gets depressing after a while, if he’s being honest.

But a few of them, like JJ Maybank, have gotten under his skin.

And his dad always says that you should know your enemy better than you know yourself and despite what he thinks, Rafe listens to him, so he pays attention— knows how JJ moves in a fight, how his fists clench and his entire body tenses whenever someone mentions his father.

He also knows that above all, JJ is loyal to John B, like a dog is to it’s owner, so when he spots him at Midsummers with a split lip and a suit that doesn’t fit quite right, it’s easy to guess that John B isn’t too far away.

Then Rafe has JJ cornered, just like he’s always wanted, trapped in a headlock and with no friends to help him, but before he can give him the beating he deserves, a security guard walks in and interrupts their fun.

But it doesn’t matter, because Rafe already knows exactly what he needs to say to make JJ throw himself back into the fray.

The words slip past Rafe’s lips without him having to think, a taunt that he knows will hit JJ where it hurts— right in the heart.

“Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a Pogue.”

Because they have a history, him and JJ, and those words call back to a comment he’d made at the Boneyard a year ago,  immediately followed by JJ punching him in the face.

So, Rafe knows what’s going to happen next before it does: JJ goes still, and then he snaps.

                                                             •••

The first time JJ sees Kiara with Rafe, he’s working a shift for Heyward on Figure Eight.

It’s during that strange period of time where Kiara’s drifting away from the Pogues but is still technically their friend— her name pops up in group chat sometimes, and she goes surfing and parties at the Boneyard with them, but it’s not the same.

It’s different, the kind of different that means someone is about to leave, like how JJ’s mom had snuck into his room when she’d thought he was asleep and hugged him before she left and never came back.

Kiara doesn’t do that, in fact she barely acknowledges the new divide between her and the Pogues, but he gets the message loud and clear.

So JJ starts to pull away, distances himself from Kiara in the way he never had the foresight to do with his mother.

It’s hard, and he gets this strange ache in his chest whenever he sees her, an arm around Sarah’s shoulders at the Boneyard or laughing with Kelce in an Instagram story, has to remind himself that Kiara can be friends with whoever she damn well pleases.

And that’s true for the most part, except when that someone is Rafe Cameron.

Because Rafe’s the ringleader of the Kooks, he’s a rich, disgusting slime ball (Kiara’s words, not his), and JJ has no idea why she would even associate with him.

But there she is: laughing with Rafe’s arm thrown over her shoulders, rolling her eyes and shoving at his chest when he leans in to whisper something in her ear.

Kiara looks good, she always does these days, wearing a crop top and the shortest shorts JJ has ever seen on her, having swapped her usual mud-stained converse for wedged sandals. But the worst part is that he’s seen Kiara fake a smile before, and that isn’t it.

No, this one’s real.

And fine, it hurts a little, because it’s easier to pretend that it’s not personal when Kiara’s at some fancy party at the Island Club or having a girls night with Sarah, but this isn’t a Kook thing— it’s a Kiara and Rafe thing.

JJ’s not sure why it makes him so mad, why he curls his hands into fists and storms away, kicks a dumpster when he’s out of their line of sight.

It’s not until later, when he’s three beers in and icing his foot in the hammock at the Chateau, that the word jealous comes to mind.

But he ignores it, because it feels hot and bitter and dangerous, and JJ has enough to worry about as is. He doesn’t need to fight Kiara’s battle for her, and if she wants to ditch him and the Pogues, then she’ll have to figure out for herself that Rafe is a disgusting piece of shit.

If she doesn’t want JJ in her life, he’ll stay the hell out of it.

                                                            •••

JJ thought pulling away from Kiara first would make it hurt less when she inevitably abandoned them.

He was wrong.

It’s mostly subconscious, but his sighting of her and Rafe speeds up the process a little, and he starts calling Kiara out on her bullshit more. John B and Pope are pissed too, but they’re too chicken to actually say anything to her, so it kind of all falls on JJ.

It culminates into a screaming match at the Chateau between him and Kiara, and of course JJ’s mouth gets away from him, so it ends with her slapping him in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gets in her car and drives away.

John B and Pope try to reason with him, tell JJ to go after her and apologize, but he just grabs a beer and collapses into the hammock, his cheek still stinging from where Kiara had hit him.

He’s angry for a while after that, enough that John B and Pope learn not to bring up Kiara’s name unless they want JJ to punch something and potentially break his hand.

JJ’s not quite sure what he had planned to do when he saw Kiara next, kind of builds it up in his mind as this big confrontation, so it’s honestly anticlimactic when he runs into her at the gas station one afternoon.

Kiara’s basket is filled with a few miscellaneous items— those organic granola bars she likes, a few bags of chips, economically-friendly sunscreen, and a pack of cloth headbands. JJ doesn’t have a basket, but there’s a stolen candy bar in his pocket.

He tries not to think about how when he swiped it from the shelves, Kiara wasn’t there to take it from him. She used to have an annoying habit of paying for anything JJ tried to steal, which took all the fun out of it.

Her hair’s down, and she’s not wearing makeup like the last time JJ saw her, with mascara staining her cheeks as he’d screamed at her, but she’s wearing a high-waisted jean skirt and a cropped tank top. And don’t get him wrong, she looks good, but it’s... not Kiara.

Or maybe it’s just not the Kiara he’d known. She seems like an entirely different person these days.

But the strangest part is now that she’s standing in front of him, staring at JJ like she’s worried he’s about to start screaming at her in the middle of the store, he’s not even angry anymore.

“Uh... hey,” JJ says when it’s clear she’s not going to speak first, which he realizes is an epically lame greeting, but what else is he supposed to say?

Hey, I’ve been so pissed at you that I didn’t even realize how much I missed you, and now that you’re standing in front of me I kind of just want to beg you to come back?

No. JJ can’t say that, not if he wants to keep his dignity.

“Hey,” Kiara repeats, though she still seems hesitant, as if she thinks JJ is luring her into a trap. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he admits, shrugging his shoulders. The truth is that John B’s at work and he doesn’t want to go back to the Chateau alone since there’s still a giant Big-John-sized-hole there, and he can’t go home either, so he’s here. But he’s not about to tell Kiara that. “You?”

“The usual,” she says, mirroring his shrug. JJ almost reminds her that he doesn’t know what the usual for her is anymore, but he bites his tongue. “Sarah’s having a party tonight, I was just... grabbing supplies.”

JJ just nods, because the mention of the Cameron’s seems to automatically reinstate the divide between them. He wasn’t invited to Sarah’s party, wouldn’t have gone if he had been, and he ignores the part of him that wants Kiara to offer to take him and the Pogues with her like she used to. But she doesn’t, and just like that, he remembers that they’re not friends anymore.

Kiara must notice the closed-off expression on his face, because she bites her lip like she always does when she’s upset and slips past him without a word, heading for the register.

JJ’s planning to let her go, but then he remembers how Rafe had seemed so comfortable with her the other day, and he grabs Kiara’s arm as she passes.

She whirls around, glances at JJ and then at the hand on her wrist, and he lets go immediately, shakes his hand a little to get rid of the strange, lingering sensation where Kiara’s skin had touched his.

“Sorry,” he says, trying to recall what the point of him stopping her was. “I know it’s none of my business but... you’re not going with Rafe tonight, are you?”

“What?”

JJ hesitates, because he knows how Kiara gets about people trying to protect her, but he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t say something. “It’s just... I saw you two the other day, and it looked like there was maybe something going on there. And I know you can take care of yourself, but I want to make sure you’re not making a mistake—”

“Okay, I’m sorry, you’re following me now? What? Can’t trust a Kook?” Kiara snaps, hands on her hips and fire in her eyes, and JJ starts backtracking immediately.

“No, that’s not— I was working a shift for Heyward, okay? And you and Rafe were there, and I know how much of an asshole he can be, so—”

“It’s like you said, I can take care of myself,” she hisses, cutting him off again. “And you’re right, it’s none of your business, JJ. So stay out of it.”

“I’m just trying to help,” he tells her, fighting to keep his voice level. JJ doesn’t know why he’s even bothering to care— it’s clear that Kiara doesn’t. “You can play Kook all you want, Kiara. But you don’t have to do it with him.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kiara practically growls, her gaze burning a hole in JJ’s chest. “Rafe’s not all bad, you know? And he’s much nicer when he’s sober.”

“Wow,” JJ scoffs, because since when was that the kind of bar Kiara was setting for her friends? “Sounds like the man of your dreams. I hope you two are happy together, Carrera.”

“It’s not—” Kiara starts to say, but then she stops, bites her lips and shakes her head. “Nevermind. The point is that I’m handling it, okay? You don’t have to worry.”

“Right. Sure.”

After, when she’s gone, JJ regrets not calling after her. Because he genuinely didn’t want to start a fight, and he’d meant what he said. Rafe was bad news, and while JJ knew Kiara could handle herself, the idea of him doing anything to her made his stomach turn.

Still, he hopes that he’s wrong— that Rafe will leave Kiara be, and that there’s nothing going on between them. He hopes that she’s telling the truth when she says she has it all under control.

Because JJ’s not sure what he’d do if she doesn’t.

                                                            •••

JJ’s sprawled across the pullout couch at the Chateau, John B already passed out in his bedroom and Pope asleep on the couch outside, a freshly lit joint in hand, when his phone rings.

Kiara’s name pops up on the screen, and he considers not answering, but there’s this strange pit in his stomach that won’t go away, so he picks up.

Later, he refuses to think about what might have happened if he hadn’t.

Because Kiara’s not the one who answers the phone.

“Hello?“

It’s a girl’s voice, one he doesn’t know, and JJ is already leaning forward, forcing himself to focus. He tries not to jump to conclusions— it’s a party, Kiara’s probably drunk, she might have lost her phone. It’s possible that nothing’s wrong.

JJ doesn’t realize he hasn’t answered yet until the girl starts repeating herself. “Hello? Is someone there?”

“Oh, yeah,” he stammers, stamping the joint out on the coffee table. “Who is this? Where’s Kiara?”

“I’m Callie,” she says, her tone firm. “Who are you?”

“JJ,” he tells her, his voice short and to the point, because she’s not telling him where Kie is and he’s starting to get worried. “Where’s Kiara? Why do you have her phone?”

“You’re her friend?” she asks, still sounding suspicious, like she doesn’t quite trust him.

“Yes, I’m her friend,” JJ snaps, even though that hasn’t been true as of late. It doesn’t matter— he just needs to know that Kiara’s okay, and then he can hang up the phone. “Is she okay? Why isn’t she answering her phone?”

“Something happened,” the girl says, her voice wavering slightly, and JJ’s heart jumps to his throat. A dozen different scenarios are running through his head, none of them good. “She’s okay, but she needs a ride. Can you come get her?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation, springing to his feet and stumbling towards the door, grabbing the keys to his bike off the counter as he goes. “I’m leaving now. Be there in ten.”

“We’re at the Cameron’s place. It’s—”

“I know where it is,” JJ tells her, winding the keys around his fingers to distract himself from the panic coursing through his veins as he runs to his bike and shoves the keys into the ignition. “Is she there? Can I talk to her?”

The girl seems to hesitate, but then there’s a crackle of static as she hands the phone to Kiara.

Her voice filters into the air as JJ hits the gas, softer than he’s ever heard it. “JJ?”

He has the phone off speaker and pressed to his ear in a heartbeat. “Kie? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, I can’t—” Kiara breaks off, her voice cracking, and JJ’s grip on the phone is so tight that he’s surprised the screen doesn’t shatter. “Everything’s fuzzy, and I can’t move. JJ, I can’t move, I can’t—”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, fighting to keep his voice steady. “You’re okay. Just hold on, okay? I’m right here.”

“JJ, I’m scared,” she whimpers, still struggling to breathe, and JJ’s heart breaks a little at the confession. Because Kiara doesn’t get scared, she’s the bravest person he knows, and if she’s admitting it to him of all people, then it’s bad. “Can you come?”

“I’m on my way.”

•••

On his way to the Cameron’s house, JJ drives the fastest he’s ever driven in his life.

He doesn’t even bother checking the speed limit as he roars through the empty streets. It’s well past midnight, so the lights are out on the Cut, but he eventually turns into a neighborhood with trimmed hedges and streetlights that don’t flicker, and he knows he’s in the right place.

His hands are white on the handlebars as he screeches to a halt in the driveway, sliding between two shiny, spotless sports cars and yanking the keys from the ignition.

JJ’s phone is already in his hands as he fires a text off to Kiara’s phone, praying that the girl is still with her.

JJ: Where are you?

Kiara: By the bushes at the front of the house.

JJ is moving immediately, shoving his phone in his pocket as he heads towards the hedges. He finally spots them— a girl with long brown hair wearing a leather jacket, leaning over Kiara, who’s lying back against a tree with her eyes closed.

His throat goes tight at the sight, and there’s a moment where he wants to run away and pretend that this isn’t happening, but then Kiara groans, shifting away from the girls hands, and JJ forces himself to calm down. He can deal with his own emotions later, once he knows that Kie’s okay.

“What happened?” JJ demands as he approaches, the girl (Callie, he remembers) jumping up and turning to face him. “What’s wrong with her?”

Even as she opens her mouth to explain, JJ doesn’t take his attention away from Kie. She’s wearing jeans shorts and a tank top, her skin pale and gleaming with sweat. If he didn’t know better, she might just be some girl who’d partied too hard and passed out drunk.

But he does know better, because Kiara can’t seem to keep her eyes open and she’s whimpering under her breath, and it starts to remind JJ of himself when his dad is beating on him, and then he really wants to run away but he knows that he can’t.

“I think someone drugged her drink,” Callie says, as if this is normal. He guesses that maybe it is, if you’re a girl, and that only pisses JJ off more. “I found her before anything happened, but she’s still pretty out of it.”

“Who?” JJ asks, struggling to keep his voice level. Because he thinks he knows, and if Kie didn’t look like she was about to pass out at any moment, he’d already be inside that house beating the shit out of the bastard who’d done this to her.

Callie must notice the dark, haunted look in his eyes, and her expression is grim as she says, “I think you know.”

JJ nods, grinds his teeth and curls his hands into fists to try and curb the rage that’s lighting every single bone in his body on fire.

Rafe.

The next time he saw that rich, sadistic fucker... well the island’s golden boy would be walking out of that fight with a few less teeth and lot more broken bones.

“Hey,” Callie says, her voice sharp and her eyes on JJ’s clenched fists. “You good to take her home?”

His attention shifts back to Kiara, and all of the righteous anger vanishes from JJ’s body at sight of her lying on the ground, eyes half-closed and entirely unable to defend herself. And he knows that no one deserves this, but Kie is the kind of person who’s meant to be laughing after riding the perfect wave or screaming for justice at some climate change rally. This... this was just wrong.

JJ takes a step closer, crouches down on the ground beside her, hyper-aware of the fact that Callie is watching his every move and will knee him in the balls if he tries anything.

“Kie?” He whispers, his voice so quiet he wonders if she can even hear it, careful to keep his distance so that he doesn’t spook her. “Kie, can you hear me?”

Kiara stirs a little, eyes fluttering open to look at him, her gaze still hazy from the drugs and the alcohol. “JJ?”

She says his name like she’s not quite sure if he’s real or not, and her voice is so quiet and weak and un-Kie like that he can’t help but reach out and touch her hand, just to make sure she’s still there.

JJ doesn’t realize he still hasn’t said anything until Kiara lifts her head, slowly, as if it’s an effort to even move, and squints at him. “JJ, is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he murmurs, taking Kie’s hand in his, running his thumb over her skin as she flinches and tries to pull away. He thinks about letting go, but then her grip tightens ever so slightly and he decides to stay right where he is. “I’m here.”

“I’m scared,” she whispers, an echo of her words on the phone, and his heart breaks just a little bit more.  “Can we go home?”

Home. JJ thinks he knows what Kiara means, can see the real question in her eyes without her having to say it.

“Yeah, Kie, we can go home,” he says, trying not to sound too shaken, because the last thing Kiara needs is someone freaking out on her right now.

She seems to relax at that, leans back against the tree and closes her eyes. JJ eases an arm around her waist and lifts her into his arms, and Kiara automatically buries her head in the crook of his neck, her soft puffs of breath hot against his skin.

Callie follows them to his bike, still studying JJ as if she’s waiting for him to do something untrustworthy. He lets Kiara down, supporting the majority of her weight as she leans into him, her hands curled in the fabric of his t-shirt. If this was any other situation, JJ would probably be over the moon, but Kiara clinging to him because she’s scared is a lot less enjoyable than he would have imagined it to be.

“Is she—” he hesitates, not wanting to voice the thought out loud. “Do I need to take her to the hospital, or something?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Callie says, her gaze soft as she studies Kiara. “I’ve seen this happen before, she just needs to sleep it off.”

“Okay,” JJ sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Uh... thanks, I guess. For looking after her.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” she tells him, giving him a small smile. “You were the first person on her speed dial, you know? Are you her boyfriend?”

”I’m her friend,” JJ says, and his voice may be a little too sharp given the nature of the question, but Kiara’s practically unconscious in his arms and he decides to give himself a break.

The look Callie gives him is a little too knowing for his liking, like she can tell the kind of thoughts JJ has about his friend at times.

But then she smiles at him, tilts her head and gestures towards Kiara. “You seem like a good friend, JJ. She’s lucky to have you.”

JJ doesn’t say what he’s really thinking, which is that if he was really a good friend, he wouldn’t have let Kiara go to the party with Rafe in the first place.

Instead, he just nods and returns Callie’s grim smile, climbs onto the bike and helps Kiara onto the back of it. She falls limp against him, wraps her arms around JJ’s waist and buries her face in his t-shirt.

“You good to hold on?” He asks, turning his head to look at her.

Kiara nods against him, as if she’s too exhausted to even talk, and she’s quiet as JJ starts the engine and pulls out of the driveway.

They don’t speak until they’re back at the Chateau, when JJ guides Kiara off of the bike and into the house, a hand on her back to keep her steady.

Her eyes are slightly less hazy now, but she’s still swaying on her feet, and JJ keeps an arm around her waist as they make their way to the pullout. Kiara’s looking around at the Chateau, her gaze almost wary, and he knows it must be weird for her to be here after everything that’s happened.

The lights are still on, but John B’s bedroom door is closed, and the couch where Pope had fallen asleep on was now  empty. He must have gone home.

JJ makes sure Kie is settled on the pullout before grabbing her a bottle of water and some Advil for her inevitable hangover. When he returns, she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floorboards with a blank expression on her face.

“Kie?” He asks, pausing in the hallway, scanning her for any obvious signs of harm. “You okay?”

It’s a stupid question, because of course she’s not okay, but he wants her to say yes so badly that it just slips out. Even then, Kiara just blinks at him, as if she’s struggling to process reality.

“Kie?” JJ tries again, trying to keep himself from panicking as he takes a step forward and crouches down in front of her. “Can you hear me?”

He places a hand on her knee, but Kiara automatically flinches away from him and curls in on herself. JJ raises his hands immediately, cursing himself for even trying to touch her, because he knows exactly what it’s like to feel entirely out of control of your own body.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, keeping his voice low and his movements slow as he sets the water on the side table. “I just want to make sure you’re okay, Kie. I would never hurt you, I swear.”

That seems to trigger some semblance of recognition in her, because Kiara lifts her head and looks at JJ with wide eyes, as if she had just noticed he was there in the room with her. “JJ?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he reassures her, still keeping a safe distance away. “You’re at the Chateau, you’re safe. I promise.”

His words are apparently exactly what Kiara needs to let go, because her shoulders immediately sag and she buries her head in her hands. She’s shaking again, and JJ thinks about letting her calm herself down on her own, but then she lets out a choked sob and he decides to screw it.

He reaches out and takes her hand, ready to move away at the slightest sign of discomfort on Kiara’s part, but the moment his fingers brush hers she lets out a low, trembling breath and falls into him. Their hands wind together, and he gives hers a firm squeeze, a silent I’m here, I’ve got you.

JJ knows from experience that touch like this can be both grounding and painful, so he doesn’t expect Kiara to want him near her, but she inches closer and leans her head on his shoulder, the noises coming from her something between gasps and sobs.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he whispers, slowly moving a hand up to card through her hair. “You’re safe Kie, I promise. Just breathe, okay?”

Miraculously, his words actually seem to calm her down, and JJ starts rubbing circles on Kiara’s back as her breathing returns to normal.  

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs into his shoulder a few moments later, before JJ can tell her she doesn’t have to apologize. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Hey, no,” he says, a little harsher than he intends to, because the idea of Kiara apologizing for any of this makes JJ sick to his stomach. “Don’t do that. This isn’t your fault, Kie. None of it is.”

“Maybe it is,” she counters, and JJ has to bite his tongue to keep himself from screaming. “If I had just listened to you, none of this would have happened—”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” he tells her, giving her shoulder a light squeeze. “I shouldn’t have been such an ass about it, I screwed up.”

“No, you didn’t,” she says, her voice firmer than he had expected it to be. “You came. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” JJ whispers with a shake of his head, the guilt he’d felt earlier returning. “You were in trouble, Kie. I was always going to come.”

“Even after everything?” She asks, her voice faltering, as if she thought JJ would reject her all over again. “I abandoned all of you; I abandoned John B. Why would you forgive me?”

Because you’re you, and I couldn’t stay mad at you if I wanted to. Because I might be a tiny bit in love with you, even if I know that you don’t feel the same.

But JJ can’t say any of that, so he settles for pulling Kie into his side and resting his head on hers. “Don’t worry about it, okay? We’re all good now, I promise.”

“Okay,” Kiara sighs, her eyelids fluttering closed as she collapses into him. “Thanks again, JJ. For everything.”

JJ has no idea what he’s supposed to say to that, so he just helps Kie lie down on the pullout. She’s still in her party clothes, but he tugs off her boots and watches as she drinks the water and pops some Advil.

After, when Kiara’s lying on the bed with her eyes closed, drifting in and out of sleep, JJ moves to leave, planning on crashing in the spare bedroom. But then she murmurs his name, tugs him back towards the pullout by his wrist, asks him to stay with her.

“Just for tonight, JJ. I— I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

And he knows it makes him a fool, but he obeys, because how is he supposed to say no to that?

And it’s not like it means anything to Kiara, because she’s hurt and scared and JJ is just there, but he can’t help but feel like he’s taking advantage of her when she lies her head on his chest and his brain short circuits.

It might be a problem in the future, he realizes. The fact that looking at Kiara makes him want to do a thousand different things to her, all of which break the no Pogue on Pogue macking rule she herself had set.

But JJ doesn’t want to think about that, and he needs a distraction, so he focuses on the person that’s been hovering in the back of his mind all night. “The next time I see him, I’m going to kill Rafe.”

And normally, Kiara would caution him against something like that, but she just laughs softly under her breath and says, “Okay, JJ. Whatever you want.”

She falls asleep not long after that, her breathing slow and steady against his chest as JJ works his fingers through her hair.

And in that moment, he thinks that Callie got it wrong. Kiara’s not lucky to have him, he’s lucky to have her.

                                                            •••

After, JJ asks Kiara why he was still number one on her speed dial after all those months.

”Oh,” she says, and it might be his imagination, but he thinks she might be blushing. “You know, I just never got around to changing it. And John B never picks up his phone, so if I ever got in trouble, I just...”

She doesn’t finish the end of that sentence, and it’s kind of a cop-out answer anyway, but he lets it go.

Kiara’s back now, that’s all that matters.

Even if in that moment, despite his better judgment, JJ wonders if there’s more to it than she wants to admit.

                                                            •••

JJ’s father is the kind of man who’s known for breaking promises. He’s broken almost every single one he’s ever made to his son, and JJ had always promised himself that he would never be like him— he’d keep his word.

And he’d meant it when he’d told Kiara that the next time he saw Rafe, he’d kill him.

His chance to make good on his word comes a few weeks after that night, when JJ is refilling his drink at the keg during a party at the Boneyard.

Kiara had slipped back into the group with ease, almost as if she’d never left, and he could tell that they were all better off for it. John B was smiling for the first time in months, and Pope kept looking at Kie like she was the best damn thing he’d ever seen. Even Kiara seemed perfectly happy to be back slumming it with them, had started trashing the Kooks even harder than before.

And as for JJ... he had no idea how to feel.

He’d tried to tell himself to not get too attached, because just because someone came back didn’t mean they were going to stay, but when Kiara wraps her arms around his shoulders on the HMS or presses her body against his in the hammock, it’s hard not to.

She’d asked him not to tell the other Pogues about what happened with Rafe, and JJ had kept his word with that too, but that didn’t change a thing about his own feelings.

The truth is, JJ couldn’t get that night out of his head— how Kiara had been lying on the ground, limp and defenseless, when he’d found her. The empty, glazed look in her eyes, how she’d flinched away when he went to touch her.

And Kiara’s fine now, for the most part at least. He keeps asking if she’s okay, if she wants to talk about it, but she just brushes it off and insists that she wants to forget her Kook Year altogether. And sure, it wasn’t like anything had actually happened, but JJ can tell that it’s affecting Kie more than she’s letting on.

Like how she had hesitated before climbing out of the van tonight, eyed the  crowded beach and sea of red solo cups with something like fear in her eyes. The other Pogues hadn’t noticed anything, but JJ had been paying attention.

He hadn’t said anything, of course, because he knew Kiara would bite his head off if he acted like she needed protecting, but he’d wrapped an arm around her shoulders and promised that the moment she said the word, they could leave.

Kiara has nodded her head, gave JJ a small, tight-lipped smile, and even though she didn’t say thank you he saw the unspoken gratitude in her eyes.

So, he had stayed by Kie’s side the entire night, filling her in on all the shit she’d missed, handing her a can of unopened Coke to pour into her cup herself, made excuses when John B and Pope asked why she wasn’t drinking.

And he knew Kiara didn’t need him to fuss over her, that she could take care of herself, but she was more relaxed than she’d been in weeks and hadn’t told JJ to cut it out yet, and he wasn’t about to stop unless she asked him to.

He’d even bitten his tongue and kept his fists to himself when some Kooks had called her a snitch, giggling behind their hands and giving Kiara dirty looks. Kie had just rolled her eyes and brushed it off, whispering for JJ to leave it and giving his hands a pointed look until he’d unclenched his fists.

And JJ’s never been one to shy away from a fight, but he knows the last thing Kiara needs is more shit to deal with, so he keeps his hands to himself.

But then he sees Rafe, and all bets are off.

It might’ve been fine if he’d just ignored JJ, gotten his drink and left without saying a word, but of course that’s not what happens.

Instead, it’s Rafe with a knowing smirk on his face as he clamps a hand on JJ’s shoulder and squeezes hard, telling him to pour him a beer while he searches the crowd for a special girl of his. JJ doesn’t need to ask to know who he’s looking for.

So yes, it’s Rafe with that smug smile and cocky expression on his face as he opens his fucking mouth and has the nerve to ask JJ, “So, how’s Kie?”

“None of your fucking business, Cameron,” JJ snarls, all attempts at keeping the peace forgotten. “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the hell away from her.”

“Is that so?” Rafe says, eyebrows raised, shooting one of his cronies an incredulous look. “What are you going to do if I don’t, Pogue? Trim the hedges crooked? Put too much salt in my Margarita?”

“I’m warning you, Rafe,” JJ growls, stepping closer until they’re chest to chest, his rage hot in his veins. “She’s done with you. Leave her alone.”

“What’s wrong, JJ?” Rafe asks, his voice tainted with false sympathy. “Scared your whore’s gonna find a new—”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish before JJ lunges forward, the cup of beer he’d been holding spilling onto the sand as he twists the fabric of Rafe’s shirt in his hands and tugs him closer until he’s practically spitting in his face. “If you so much as touch her, Rafe, I swear to God—”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Maybank,” Rafe croons, seemingly unbothered by JJ’s proximity and the tension lining every part of his body. “I got what I wanted, but if it pisses you off so much, I might just have to try and fuck her myself—”

And just like that, the thin hold JJ had on himself slips, and his fist slams into Rafe’s face. They’re on the ground a moment later, and he’s straddling Rafe as he rains blow after blow down on him, oblivious to the hands tugging at his chest and the distant screams of the other partygoers.  

It takes Pope’s hands on his shoulders and his voice in JJ’s ear for him to stop, to return to a world that doesn’t revolve around the desire to rip Rafe Cameron limb from limb.

“If I ever hear her name in your mouth again, you’re dead,” he snarls over Rafe’s limp and groaning form, his voice sounding feral even to his own ears. “Got it, Rafe?”

JJ’s not quite sure what happens next, just remembers Pope’s arm around his shoulders as he swore at JJ under his breath and demanded to know what had happened.

And normally, the rush he gets after a fight scares him a little because it reminds him of his father, but all JJ can feel is the satisfaction of seeing Rafe almost as vulnerable and defenseless as Kiara had been.

Her name is the first thing that really registers, and then he realizes that she’s probably going to find out what he did, and JJ doesn’t know why but the thought doesn’t sit well with him.

“Don’t tell Kie, okay?”

“JJ—”

“I’m serious. Just... leave this one between us. She doesn’t need to know.”

So, Pope keeps his mouth shut, and JJ doesn’t discuss the fight with Kiara, even when she sees the bruises on Rafe’s face a week later and shoots him a pointed look, her gaze hard and eyes narrowed. JJ just shrugs when she asks him if he did it, says he’s glad the son of a bitch got what was coming to him, and that’s that.

They don’t talk about it, and JJ decides that it’s for the best. Because what Kiara can’t know won’t hurt her, and things are finally normal again. He can’t screw that up.

Even if the fight with Rafe isn’t the only thing he’s decided to keep a secret.

                                                            •••

All in all, Midsummers is a disaster.

Because sure, there’s Kie flinging herself into his arms by the end of it, colliding with JJ’s bruised chest in a way that should be painful but isn’t, smelling like fresh flowers and champagne, laughing into his neck and smiling as if JJ’s the best thing she’s seen all day.

But before that Kelce has his arm around JJ’s neck and Rafe is about to land a metaphorical golf club through his skull, and there’s a brief but very real moment of panic where JJ realizes he has no idea how to get himself out of this one.

And then the security guard arrives, tipping the scales in JJ’s favor for once, and he smirks as he’s escorted from the room, tosses a final taunt to Rafe and his boys over his shoulder.

He thinks it’s over, that he’s won, but then Rafe says the magic words.

“Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a Pogue.”

After that, all JJ sees is red. It doesn’t even matter what Rafe said, because it involved Kiara, and he knows they both remember the threat he’d laid down after their fight at the Boneyard all those months ago.

If I ever hear her name in your mouth again, you’re dead.

He’d said it, and he’d meant it. And JJ doesn’t break promises— especially where Kiara is concerned. It’s too damn important.

She’s too important, and he’s not sure what it says about him, but Rafe says those nine damning words, the smirk on his face telling JJ that he already knows what’s about to happen, and then JJ snaps.

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Special - Paul Lahote

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Reader

Characters: Paul Lahote, Emmett Cullen, Edward Cullen, Jasper Hale, Esme Cullen, Carlisle Cullen, Alice Cullen, Rosalie Hale

Warnings: N/A

Request: @bangtanhoe7: “Could I request a one shot with Paul Lahote?? Maybe where she’s a Cullen but is a wolf and they both imprint on each other?? Angst in the beginning but ends in fluff :)) thank you!!”

Word Count: 1031

Author: Hannah

Being adopted was never going to be straightforward, or something that a lot of people could to relate to, but the relating factor decreased even more so when your adoptive family were actually a coven of vampires.

You were actually 17 years old, and you had been adopted by Esme and Carlisle because they found you whilst they were hunting and neither of them wanted to leave a baby by itself when they knew it wouldn't survive.

And so, you became Y/N Cullen but there were a lot of adjustments in the household considering you ate and they didn’t, you slept and they didn’t, you also had the type of blood that they were all trying very hard not to eat.

All of that aside, your family weren’t necessarily pleased when you were imprinted on by a wolf.

Paul had imprinted on you just over two months ago, and since then all you wanted to do was spend time with him – you were done with school by that point and your family weren’t always around, so you didn’t see the issue.

Esme and Carlisle had been the loving parents, like they always were, and supported you even if they didn’t really like the fact that Paul was from the tribe that they had somewhat of a feud with.

Your older brothers and sisters, however, liked to point out many issues and were having a hard time looking past the whole feud thing.

That morning, Paul had texted you to invite you over to his house that was on the reservation, so he said he’d come and pick you up.

“Mum! Dad!” you called out through the house, walking down the stairs.

Esme appeared from the kitchen with a smile on her face. “Yes sweetie?”

“Paul has invited me over to his house, he’s going to pick me up,” you explained to her.

She nodded but before she could say a word, your siblings appeared in the living room.

“You’re going to let her go?” Emmett quizzed, crossing his arms.

Rosalie sighed. “You know she can’t go with that dog; she isn’t like us; she can’t defend herself.”

“Why would I need to?! He won’t hurt me Rose.”

“The dogs are unpredictable,” Jasper stated.

You threw your hands up in frustration and stormed towards the sofa, you felt yourself calming down and whirled around to Jasper.

“Don’t you dare!” you yelled at him.

Collapsing on the coach, you put your head into your hands and ignored them all.

“I don’t care what any of you say about them,” you spoke up as you faced them. “Paul is the first guy that has been a gentleman to me, he is a decent guy and you can’t change that about him.”

“You have only known him for a couple of months Y/N,” Alice reminded you.

You shook your head. “I’ve been friends with the pack for years Alice, remember my friends and I going to La Push because they wanted to surf,” you explained. “The tribe didn’t get mad at me or hate me because I’m not one of you, and they didn’t just automatically kick me out.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Esme asked, coming to sit next to you.

You scoffed. “This is the reaction I get when one of them imprints on me, which yeah is a big deal but even if you all knew I was friends with them you’d instantly try to stop me and you can’t tell me what to do.”

Your words were directed at your siblings, not Esme who for all intents and purposes was your Mum and could tell you what to do.

Emmett sighed, looking at Edward who hadn’t said a word despite being stood there for the whole time.

“I can still read your mind Y/N,” Edward stated causing you to shrug. “I know we’re upsetting you, but we just don’t trust them.”

You slightly smiled at Edward being the voice of reason. “Do you not trust me?”

Your eyes scanned over your siblings’ faces, and they all looked somewhat regretful.

“Look guys, I get it, I do,” you told them. “But at the end of the day this is my choice, you don’t have to agree with it but please don’t make me feel guilty or force me to choose.”

It was then that Carlisle walked into the living room and came over to you. “Paul is outside Y/N.”

You nodded, grabbing your things that you had left in the kitchen and then heading outside.

No one else said anything to you as you walked past them, but Esme and Carlisle gave you hugs before you went out of the door.

Paul smiled at you and got out of the truck to open the door for you, making you smile at the gesture.

Once he got into the driver’s side, he pulled off the drive and looked to you with slight concern.

“Do the vamps still hate me?” he asked with a small laugh.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Considering they all gave me what seemed like an intervention earlier on, I wouldn’t say they hate you – they just aren’t very fond of you.”

He laughed again, resting his hand on your thigh. “They aren’t trying to kill me this time so it’s an improvement.”

“And you didn’t phase in front of them either so we’re all doing better.”

“Oh, come on, they ran at me first!”

You rolled your eyes. “You came out of nowhere saying I was your imprint; you must’ve known that wasn’t a good idea.”

He sighed, nodding with a small smile. “I was just excited.”

You smiled at him, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Well that’s cute.”

Placing your hand over the one Paul had on your thigh, he squeezed it affectionately.

“They’ll come around eventually, you’ve just got to trust each other.”

“Easier said than done beautiful,” he commented as he continued to drive.

“Nothing was ever supposed to be easy, and you just so happen to have one of the most difficult families to come into.”

He laughed, rubbing his thumb against your thigh. “I guess that means I’m special then.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary -Chapter 26

Warnings: profanity, smut. NSFW.

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @thorsbathroomchicken, @innerpaperexpertcloud

The knock comes at quarter to nine.  The unhurried rap of knuckles against wood.  Through the peep hole Tyler can get a good look at the man on the other side;  short and stocky, older than him,  shaggy shoulder length salt and pepper hair and an unkempt beard.  Looking as if he's heading to the beach in his baggy tropical print shorts and a white wife beater.  He's calm. Collected.  Casually glancing from the left to the right yet not in a dire hurry to fulfill his mission.  And he's just raising his hand to knock again when Tyler opens the door; the chain firmly in place, giving the unknown man limited access.

“Who are you?” he inquires.

“You Tyler Rake?”

He nods. “Yep.”

“Nik sent me. I came up from Dublin. I come bearing gifts,” he nods down at the two large duffle bags sitting at his feet. “You know, the kind that fuck shit up and tear people apart.”

“Name?”

“Padraig. Last name is on a need to know basis and you don't need to know.”

Tyler glances over his shoulder to where Esme sits at the table by the window, her SAT phone pressed to her ear, relaying the information in real time to Nik.  Only turning back towards the man in the hallway when his wife gives him a nod indicating that everything is on the up and up.  

“You're a hard person to track down,” Padraig comments, as Tyler holds the door open for him and waits for him to step outside. “No one seems to know who the hell you are. Like you don't even exist. Like a goddamn ghost.”

“We had to switch things up. Move hotels,” Tyler checks the hallway for himself; looking left and right, making sure there's no one lurking about.  No curious eyes or ears that are waiting to pass information back to the wrong people.

“Got made, huh?”

“Before we even got on the damn plane,” he shuts the door, snaps the deadbolt in place.

Padraig gives Esme a polite nod in greeting, then addresses Tyler. “Who's she?”

“She's with me.”

“I can see that. But I was under the understanding it would be just the two of us, know what I'm saying? This is an A and B conversation, so she can see herself out. This isn't the time for girlfriends to be hanging around. No matter how cute they are.”

“She's my wife. And she's in on this. She's on the job too.  So how about we cut the chit chat and get down to business>”

Padraig eyes her from head to toe.  Taking in the baggy sweat pants and the tattered and weathered t-shirt she wears, then gives a nod of approval when he deems her a non-threat and offers a hand. “Padraig. But pretty little things like you can call me Paddy.”

“Esme,” she shakes his hand.

“How's a little thing like you get mixed up in  all of this? With a guy like that?” he jerks his head in Tyler's direction.

“How do you know I didn't get him mixed up in all of this?” she counters, and he grins.  

“You're a fire cracker. I can tell,” he tosses the bags onto one of the beds and turns back to Tyler. “You got your hands full with that one, I reckon.”

“We're not here to make friends, mate. So how about we just cut the shit and get this done.”

“All business. I like that,” he takes a step back, nodding down at the bags.  “Got your list. I was kind of surprised how much was on there, to be honest. I haven't had someone ask for a haul like this in a long time. You expecting some crazy shit? Going up against the entire army.?”

“Open them,” Tyler instructs.

“Don't trust me? Think they're rigged or something?”

“I don't trust anyone. Open them.”

“Alright...alright...” the older man huffs. “...all business I see.”

Esme gets up from the table and makes her way over to the bed just as he finishes unzipping both bags. And when she reaches for the first one, two fingers cautiously and curiously pushing the thick fabric aside, she sees the way the man's eyebrows shoot up.  

“Relax, mate,” Tyler says. “Out of the two of us, she's the expert when it comes to these things.”

He holds his hands up in surrender, then takes a step back as she opens the bag further. Rummaging through the bundle of weapons and ammunition and various and random pieces of tactical gear.  Knifes, bump stocks, flash lights, first aid supplies.  But the guns are the drawing point. Revolvers, grenade launchers, fully automatic rifles with high tech scopes and all the bells and whistles.  When she gets to the second bag she begins removing things; snapping them apart, carefully inspecting the various parts and components. Checking for any damage or wear and tear that could affect the performance.   And Padraig's eyes are wide with both amazement and approval as he watches her.

She quickly and efficiently puts weapons back together, then returns them to the bag and takes a step back.

“Good?”” Tyler asks.

She nods.

“So which ones to you want?” Padraig asks.

Tyler smirks. “All of them.”

****

After a long and languid session of love making, they sit in bed. Backs against the headboard, devouring plates of food from room surface, the television tuned in to international news. Terrorism in the Middle East,  scandals and stupidity within the White House,  racial tensions in the southern US,  a shaky and unpredictable stock market. Losing themselves in crappy, high calorie food and ice cream and anything and everything going on the world aside from the job.  Even other countries problems a welcome distraction from the high stakes drama surrounding them.

It is the quiet simplicities of life that both of them have come to cherish and hold onto with a fierce determination.  The moments of comfortable and companionable silence; neither feeling the need to fill the void with mindless chit chat. Or the flirtatious teasing and lighthearted banter and conversation they're prone to; never malicious or hurtful, always done with the purest intent.  Just enjoying one another's company and feeling as if they're just an ordinary, normal couple. Even if everything around them is anything but.

Tyler's eyes are closed; legs stretched out in front of him, hands behind his head.  Stomach finally full and satisfied. The anxieties and the worries of the day finally subsiding; allowing his mind to rest and all the tension in his body to finally loosen.  Feeling the noticeable difference in his body; the way the muscles, ligaments and tendons finally loosen.  A relief that actually makes him sigh out loud.

Esme moves beside him;  a faint rattling of dishes as she places them on the little table next to her side of the bed, the soft rustling of sheets as she moves closer to him. Tucking herself into his side, a hand on his stomach, her head on his chest.  And he drops one of his hands behind his head, softly running his palm over her hair and then down onto her shoulder. Fingertips grazing along that soft, smooth skin,  travelling over her hand before sliding back up again to rest on her upper arm.

“Were you sleeping?” she asks, her hand moving in slow circles on his stomach, fingers occasionally stopping to trace the hard lines and indents of his ab muscles.

He shakes his head. “Thinking.”

“About?”

“Australia, actually.”

Her hand travels slightly upwards and just to the left, two fingertips sliding over the thick, raised scar that had been left behind years ago when...in a state of rage and frustration...he'd yanked the just recently placed feeding tube clear out of his own body. He'd be pissed. Embarrassed. That it had come down to even needing something like that to help him on the road to recovery. Hating that she had to see him in such a state.

“You miss it,” she states.

“Sometimes,” Tyler admits. “Not often. It was time to move on. There was too much there holding me back. Holding us back.”

She nods in agreement. While they had been happy there, the ghosts of his past had visited way too often.  His son's terminal illness and eventual death, an ex wife that would appear every now and again to try and make his life a living hell (angry that he'd gotten remarried and started a new family, even wishing illness and death on both Esme and their then infant daughter), an extremely toxic relationship with his father. There had always been something lingering in the background that had made being truly content nearly impossible.

Moving away had done them a world of good.  He'd both thrived and flourished with a change of pace. His personal development, both mentally and physically, a stunning accomplishment. He'd become a different person; happier, at peace with himself and the decisions he'd made in the past, enjoying being a husband and a father and living a somewhat normal life. They still had their fair share of problems; their own relationship could be described as toxic in some ways.  But once away from the other drama that plagued his life, they were able to concentrate on fixing things.  On becoming not only better human beings, but better friends, spouses, and parents.

“It would be nice to go back though,” he says. “Just to visit. Take the kids. Let them see where I came from. Where I grew up.”

“They always have been curious about that. Always wanting to know why daddy sounds differently than they do when he talks.  They'd love the beach. The ocean. You could even teach them to surf. I know you've always wanted that. A little surfing buddy. Or two. Or three.”

He smiles at that, drops a kiss on the top of her head. “We could even take them to Kimberly. Let them see the shack. It's where we met, after all. They might like to hear about that. How things started out between us.”

“There's a lot we'd have to leave out. The more...gory stuff.”

He nods in agreement.  There's no way they'd ever be able to handle that. Anything that had gone down between their parents once they got to Dhaka.  It was intense and wild. Not just their immense sexual attraction to one another, but after that they'd become embroiled in once the mission to extract Ovi had gone so horribly wrong. Sometimes he replays it in his mind. Trying to figure out where it had all started to fall apart. Finding solutions. Discovering decisions that could have made things easier. Better.  There were regrets in that, regard. Things he should have said and done that would have made that bridge crossing a lot of a lot easier. Especially on her and the kid.

“They could meet Koen,” he says. “And the chicken.”

She laughs. “Bathroom chicken. The one true love of Tyler Rake's life.”

“Naw...” he says, and with his free hand, brushing her hair off of her forehead and presses a kiss to her brow. “...I think that title belongs to someone else.”

She smiles, turning her face up towards his as he pecks her lips. “Baby...” she sighs, and nestles her face into his chest. “...you have such sweet pillow talk sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“Usually you're not a talker afterwards. You're either hungry or you pass out. No in between. Not that that  makes me love you any less.”  Her hand slides around to his right side; fingers tracing the tattoo that takes up a large portion of his rib cage.

“I guess they could meet my dad too,” he says as an after thought. “The kids.”

“He's only met Millie. And she was just tiny then. Remember how small she was? You'd carry her with her head in the palm of your hand and her toes wouldn't even reach your elbow.”

He nods, smiling at the memory.  There were times he still missed those moments.  When he'd carry Millie around the apartment in his arms or he'd sit on the couch with her pressed against his chest. Her smell, the softness of her skin, the feel of her breath against him. Sometimes he'd  hold her along his forearm and just stare at her. In awe of how beautiful she was.  Wondering how he'd ever managed to help create something so pure and innocent and incredible.  And questioning whether or not he deserved to feel that kind of love and happiness.  

After Austin, he'd abandoned the thought of ever having more kids. He simply couldn't imagine being married again or having a family. Not after the horrible decision he'd made to abandon his son when he'd needed him the most.  Yet Millie was there. All six pounds, eight ounces of her.  With her head head full of light brown hair and her huge blue eyes and those long yet surprisingly strong fingers that would tightly curl around just one of his.  

In a way, being able to stay home and not worry about the job while he worked on recovering had been a blessing. He'd been there from the second she was born. The first one that the doctor had handed her to, the one that cut her umbilical cord, who'd given her her first bath in the nursery.  Never balking at getting up in the middle of the night with her, getting used to changing dirty diapers again,  being able to witness the first time she rolled over or crawled, her first steps.  He'd missed all of those milestones with the twins. Always out of the country when they happened; having to rely on videos or Esme's excited play by play.  And it seemed to be repeating itself with Declan. He had words now;  not just the babble and the garble that babies indulge in. And soon he'd be pulling himself up into a stand and walking. Crazy strong and determined for someone so young.

“It would be good for him,” Esme says. “To meet his other grandchildren. Maybe it will mellow him out a bit.”

“Doubt it. He's been a dick head for the entire forty years of my life. I don't see grandkids changing that. They came from me, after all. I helped make them. That only puts them at a disadvantage. The fact they're part of me. I'm the fuck up, remember? The one that can't do anything right.”

“No,” she corrects. “He is the fuck up, Tyler. Not you. He was a fuck up as a husband and a fuck up as a father. None of that was your fault.”

“Sometimes I'm still scared I'm going to end up just like him. Or maybe I already am. Maybe I'm more like him than I realize.”

“Oh my god, no. You are nothing like him,” she insists. “Not even close.”

She'd met him once.  When they'd gotten married. And he'd shown up drunk and called her by Tyler's ex wife's name and then made a scene when corrected.  After that, Tyler had kept her away from him and the only contact they had...even after Millie was born...was through phone calls.

“Look at the way we fight,” he says.

“Every couple fights. Not just us.”

“I'm not talking about the normal fights. I'm talking about the knock 'em, drag 'em out fights. The brutal ones. Where we just say horrible, mean shit to each other to see who can hurt the other the most. That's fucked up. That's not normal. You know it. I know it.”

“It's just who we are. It's what we've always done. I don't think we know how to be any other way.”

“Maybe,” he says. “But I hate being that way. I don't want to be that way. I don't want to be the mean husband. The angry husband. The abusive husband.”

“You really don't think that about yourself do you? Abusive? Because you're not. You're far from it.”

“The shit I say to you is awful.  It's horrible. No one should say shit like that to someone they love. I don't even know why I do it. Half the time, I don't even know I said until I sit back and think about it. That's not who I want to be. I want to be better. For you. You deserve that.”

“Maybe we both can be better,” she suggests. “It's not entirely one sided. I say just as much terrible shit to you. And I hate myself afterwards for it. For days. Even weeks and months later I think about it and stress over it. It'll just pop into my head and I'll think 'oh my God, you're a shitty person and you do not deserve him'. Lots of times I'd thought you'd just give up and leave. But you never did.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” he assures her. “We're in this together. Until the bitter end.”

“Hopefully the bitter end isn't for a long, long time,” she muses, and he nods in agreement.

She turns into him, pressing her warm body against his, a hand coming up to rest on the nape of his neck, fingers gently scraping against his scalp where the shortest strands of hair are. And he presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose and moves his hand to the middle of her back.

“Sometimes I miss it too,” she tells him. “Australia. Is it weird I actually miss our old apartment? I mean, we have our own home with tons of land and it's beautiful and perfect for us and for raising kids. But sometimes I miss that little apartment. It wasn't much, but it was ours. It was our first place together. That was a huge step for both of us. Actually moving in together and getting used to each other.  I mean, we still didn't know each other that well yet we just jumped into it. It was scary. At least for me.”

“It was a little overwhelming,” he admits.  It had been a challenge; learning how to fully trust someone again. To getting used to working as a team and  abandoning his selfish bachelor ways in favour or taking care of and providing for someone else.

She pulls back and smiles at him. “We did pretty good though. I mean, we're almost six years into this and we haven't killed each other. Yet.”

“Just so you know, I haven't had any homicidal thoughts in about three years,” he teases. “So I think you're safe.”

“I think I'll keep you,” she says. “I kind of like having you around. You're cute and you're a good kisser. And you're tall and you can  reach the stuff on the high shelves. I think you get to stick around. At least for another five years.”

He smiles, then places a kiss to her brow and pulls her even tighter into him. Eyes closed, breathing in that soft and familiar scent. Feeling the warm of her body against his, her breath against his skin. Her mere presence is comforting.  And he hates how the sense of doom lingers in every inch of his body and mind. The thought of how he'd miss her...everything about her...if she suddenly wasn't around any more.

****

“I hate him, you know,” he says after several minutes.

“Who?” her knuckles repeatedly brush against the shorn section of hair at the back of his head. “Your father?”

“Him too. Mark. I fucking hate that guy.”

“I know. And you don't do a good job at hiding it either. And I am sorry. That I asked him for help. But it wasn't to betray you or piss you off. It was because I was worried. I didn't know who else to turn to, I knew he had the resources. I just thought he'd be a little more low key. I don't know what he is even doing here. He was supposed to send someone. Not show up.”

“Probably going to wait around until I get killed and then try and get you back,” he grumbles.

“I wouldn't go back to him if he was the last man on earth. I'd switch teams before that happened. And stop talking like that, okay? Nothing is going to happen to you. You're going to be fine. We're going to get this shit done and then we are going home and I am never, ever helping you out again. At least in this way.  I can't believe I even let you talk me into this. Intel was one thing. But acting as tactical back  up, like what the hell?  Do you know long it's been since I've actually been in a situation like that? Longer than ten years.”

“It's like riding a bike,” he reasons.  “And I trust you. To have my back. More than I'd trust anyone else.”

“Of course I'll have your back. No matter what. But this is just insane. I gave that part of my life up. A long time ago. How do I go from being a housewife and stay at home mother to all of this?”

“I bet you're really wishing you hadn't have stuck around in Australia,” he means it as a joke, but the frown on her face indicates that it definitely hasn't been received that way. “I was kidding. Totally kidding. Come here...” he pulls her into him, until she tumbles with a giggle into his lap, hands on his shoulders for stability as she manoeuvres her body over his; sitting sideways on his lap, both arms curled around his neck.  “I didn't mean it the way you took it,” he assures her, and lays a hand on her head and encourages her to rest it on his shoulder.

“Sometimes you can be a real dick,” she declares.

“I know,” he admits, and runs his palm along her leg. From the top of her hip to her ankle and back up again. Resting it on the side of her thigh.

“Try not and let Mark get to you, okay? He's going to try and get under your skin and irritate the shit out of you.”

“Too late. He's already done that. The second he showed up at our house. Who does that, anyway? What ex husband would show up at the place his ex wife lives at with her new husband? That's just...fucked.”

“He's not right in the head. He never has been. And he tries to justify his bullshit with the most ridiculous reasons. He's a narcissist, I told you that. And he'll try gaslighting you every change he gets.”

“I will honestly punch him in the throat.”

“Some times I wish you would. I'd love to see it, actually. I'd love to see you just lose your shit on him. I'm honestly surprised you haven't. Considering how protective you are of me and  that I know what your temper is like.”

“I came really close when he showed up tonight. He just would not shut the fuck up.”

“Do I want to know what he said to you? To get you this worked up?”

“No. No you don't. And I wouldn't tell you anyway.  It was just a bunch of shit. Like you said, trying to get under my skin.”

“Was it about me?”

“Some of it.”

“What did he say?”

“Like I said, a bunch of shit. I think he just likes to hear himself talk.”

“You think?” she laughs.  “Don't let him to get you, Tyler. He thinks he's more important than he actually is.  He's the past. You're the right here and now. And the future. That's probably what really burns his ass. He just wants you to be as miserable as he is.”

“You think he'd be happy. He got away from your cooking.”

“You're such an asshole,” she mutters, then giggles when he pinches and tickles the back of her thigh.  “I've kept you and your children alive for five and a half years. I must be doing something right. Promise me you won't let Mark get to you. That you'll just ignore him and not even engage. Because as much as I'd love to see you kick his ass...”

“He's a dick head.”

“I know. But just be the bigger man and ignore him. He's just not worth it, Tyler.”

“He deserves to have his ass handed to him for what he did to you.”

“Well let karma work that you.  I know it fills you with blinding rage when you think about the things I told you...”

“He beat the shit out of you More than once.”

“...but he's not worth it,” she insists. “And believe me, I love you so much for wanting to defend my honour and it's kind of a turn on that you'd literally beat the shit out of someone for me.  But just let it go.  It's a long time ago. None of that matters any more.”

“It matters to me. You're my wife.”

“But I wasn't back then.”

“That doesn't make a difference. I still know what he did to you. You're my wife now.  It happened to you. So it matters.”

“You are so stubborn,” she sighs.  

“It reminds me of my dad,” he admits. “Of the things he used to do to my mom. I used to hear it, Esme. He would beat the shit out of her when he thought I was asleep. I was just a little kid. And when I got older, he would do it right in front of me. It didn't matter any more, I guess. Or maybe he thought I needed to see it because he thought that's how women should be treated and I needed to learn.”

She pulls back to look at him; running her hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead.  His eyes are dark and downcast, brow furrowed.  And her fingers gently stroke his face; pressing into his temples, running along his cheeks and under his eyes, over his chin. A touch that is so tender and so comforting it nearly brings tears to his eyes.

“And then when she died, he made me his favourite punching bag. I always told myself that when I got older, when I got bigger and stronger, I'd beat the shit out of him. More for her than for myself. I wanted revenge for her. I wanted him to pay for what he did.”

“But you never did it. You were the bigger man, Tyler. By not doing it, you showed that he couldn't drag you down to his level. You showed him that he couldn't break you down. You showed him what a real man is like.”

“A real man,” he scoffs. “You mean one that drags his wife into bullshit like this?”

“A real man that loves his wife and his children and isn't afraid to tell them or show them.  I don't want you to be any way else. I love the way you are.  The way you are with me. The way you are with your kids. Our kids. You're nothing like him.”

“I'll put a gun in my mouth if I ever become like him,” he declares. “If I ever lost it to that point...where I hit you...I'd put a bullet in my brain. I couldn't live with myself if I ever did anything like that to you.”

She holds his face in her hands, kisses him softly.

“He deserves to pay. For what he did to you.”

“That's not up to you, Tyler. It will catch up to him. Eventually. But I don't want you be the one that does it.  Promise me you won't.. That you won't let him get you to that point.  He's just not worth it.”

“But you deserve that. Revenge.”

“Remember when I thought the same thing? When I thought Farhad should pay for what he did to you?”

He frowns. “That's not the same thing.”

“I thought he deserved to pay for what he did. For what he did to you. For what he did to us. And I was willing to go to any length to get back at him.  And you tried to talk me out of it, remember? And I didn't listen and look what happened. Or look what could have happened.”

“He was a kid.”

“Who shot you in the throat and nearly killed you. Sometimes I wish I had have done it. Killed him on that bridge.  It would have given me some sense of peace. Knowing that someone at least paid for what they did to you. But you were the one that tried to talk me out of it. You said it would only make things worse. And that's what I'm saying to you right now.  Just leave it alone, Tyler. Please. It's just not worth it.  He's not worth it.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but she silences him with a kiss.

“Promise me,” she demands. “That you'll let this go.”

He runs his hand over her thigh and down onto the back of her calf. “I promise.”

“Good,” she smiles, and then grabs a hold of his hand and moves it back up to her thigh. “Now...” she kisses him, then pulls back to skim the tip of her tongue over his top lip. “...make love to me again. We have a baby to make.”

His mouth is soft.  Torturous. Moving at a snail's pace along her leg, Beginning at the top of her foot and then travelling along the side of her ankle and calf. Soft kisses, gentle nibbles, soothing flicks and presses of the tongue. His beard rough against her skin; the scraping and the scratching only heightening the sensations currently surging through her body.  Every nerve ending feels as if it is on fire; goosebumps invading every inch of her skin,  her stomach fluttering in anticipation,  heart hammering in her chest.   His breath is warm against her skin and she can feel those rough callouses on his palms as his hands glide up the back of her legs. And when he reaches the inside of her thigh, he bites down on the supple flesh; hard enough to break the skin and leave a perfect impression of his teeth. Clearly marking her as his.

“Tyler...” she whimpers, clutching at his shoulders and the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, her way of encouraging him to move further up her body.  It's a most delicious form of punishment; body being teased and taunted until it's almost impossible to endure. He's a master at this; playing with her body and all of her senses in that languid, lazy pace. Worshipping every inch of her. Taking his time as mouth hand hands leave no inch unexplored.

Their second night in Dhaka he'd done the same thing; his hands taking in every possible curve and dip and hidden spot that her body had to offer. Spending an hour with his face between her thighs, using his mouth and fingers to bring about orgasm after orgasm, until tears were spilling down her face and she couldn't take any more.  And then he'd fucked her. With  long, deep, powerful strokes that she'd felt for two days afterwards.

His mouth moves higher; kisses being pressed in the juncture where her left hip meets her groin, running the tip of his tongue along the crease. Reaching up to pull her hands away from his hair as she once again tries to direct him to where she is hot and wet and ready for him.  “Stop,” he demands when she tries to grab a hold of him once more. His eyes locked on hers, mouth hovering on her pubic bone. “I'm in charge here.”

“Please...” her hips arch up towards him, and she gives a a frustrated cry when he places a forearm across her stomach to keep her pinned to the bed. “...Tyler...stop...stop teasing me...”

He ignores her, and captures both of her wrists in his free hand, roughly pressing them into the mattress beside her.  Feathery kisses places along the width of her pubic bone, biting at each hip, then moving just a little bit higher. Lips and tongue travelling along her stomach and up to her navel; his hair falling forward and tickling her bare skin,  tongue delving into her navel and then pulling back to blow a steady stream of air onto the moistened spot.

“Shit...” she whimpers, lifting her head form the bed in order to look down at him. “...stop...you need to stop...”

“Like stop entirely or...”

“You know what I fucking mean!” she cries, and then bites into her bottom lip as his tongue slides downwards, over the top of her mound, a smirk tugging at his lips and his eyes sparkling mischievously as his mouth overs above the spot where she so desperately.

“Don't be a fucking asshole!” she snaps.

“That's not nice,” he teases. “Why would you talk like that to the guy that's just about to eat your pussy? What if I just stop right now? If you're going to be an ungrateful brat...”

Her eyes narrow. “You're evil.”

“You need to behave yourself, love. I'm holding all the cards here. I've got all the power. I could just stop right now.”

“You wouldn't.”

He rests his chin on her thigh, that smirk growing wider as he stares at her.

“Don't be such a bastard!” she huffs.  

“I thought you liked playing these little games. I thought you liked when I was in charge.”

“Not like this.”

“I can do this all night. I can just sit here. Sit here and wait for you to beg. That's kind of hot, actually. Thinking about you begging for it.”

“I will kill you in your sleep.”

“You're not helping your case, love. The more you challenge me, the longer the wait is going to be. You need to learn how to behave yourself to get what you want.”

“Tyler...” she frowns. “...I swear to God...if you don't knock this shit off...”

“Tell me...” he returns to that crease between her hip and her groin. Sucking, licking, nibbling. “...tell me what you want.”

“You know what I want.”

“I like it when you tell me. It's a turn on. Hearing you say it.”

“I'm not going to say it.”

“Why?” he chuckles against the inside of her thigh, “What's the issue with saying it? After five years you still can't do it? You still can't tell me to eat you out?”

“It's embarrassing.”

“How? We've been together five and a half years. We've done some kinky and crazy dirty shit to each other. With each other. You're actually embarrassed about that? It embarrasses you tell your husband to go down on you?”

“Please...” she begs.  “...stop doing this!”

“It's okay,” he kisses her places across her pubic bone are gentle. Tender. Reassuring. “Don't be embarrassed. You don't need to ever be embarrassed with me. Tell me...” he encourages. “...tell me what you want.”

“I want...” she hesitates.

“It's okay,” his voice is soft. Comforting. As are those blue eyes that look up at her. “It's okay, Esme. Tell me.”

“I want you to go down on me,” she finally manages, a blush creeping into her cheeks.  “I want you to make me come. With your tongue. Your fingers.”

“That's my girl,” he praises, and once more places his forearm across her stomach to hold her in place.  His hair tickling the insides of her thighs as he finally dips his head down between them. “You're so wet, baby,” he says, revelling in the moisture that drips out of her,  the smell of her.  “All this for me?”

“Only for you,” she confirms. “Only for you, Tyler.”

He finally gives her what she wants. His tongue pushing through the folds and coming in contact with her clit. A long, slow lick that has a strangled cry escaping from her lips, eyes closing, head falling back into her pillow.  There's no more teasing. No more holding back. He knows her body so well; knows exactly what she likes and exactly what to do to drive her crazy. And he lets go of her hands, slipping two fingers inside of her.  Lips attached to her clit, sucking at it as his fingers work their magic. Slow, languid strokes. Pressing them in as far as they can possibly go.  Encouraged by the noises she makes; the groans and the sighs and the soft cries.  Making her cry out when a third finger joins in and he increases the speed and power behind them. Tongue circling and pressing against her clit. Until he feels her begin to tremble and her hands reach for his hair once more. He allows it this time; letting her yank and twist at those longer strands as his mouth and his fingers bring her to a powerful completion.  His name exploded from her lips in a scream.

He removes his fingers, licking the fluid off of them before pressing a kiss to each of her inner thighs and the moving up her body; his weight supported on his hands. Kissing her long and deep, letting her taste her own juices on his lips and tongue, and continuing to press small, feathery pecks to her mouth while she comes down from her high.  Hoovering over her, forehead pressed against her, until her body stops trembling and she opens her eyes.

“I feel like I should say thank you,” she says, and then giggles, and then raises her head to kiss him. “Do you want me to...”

He knows what she's offering. And that isn't what he wants. At least not right now. “Later,” he says, and then uses gentle hands to spread her thighs apart, kneeling between them. “You are so beautiful,” he praises. “You are so beautiful and I'm the luckiest guy in the fucking world.”

“You're not too hard to look yourself,” she says, her eyes dark and lustful as she takes in his naked form. The broad shoulders and chest, that tattoos and the scars, the thin sheen of sweat the glistens on his skin.

He takes hold of her hips and pulls her towards him, so her splayed thighs rest on top of his. Holding on leg behind the knee, wrapping his other hand around his cock and guiding it towards her entrance. Watching her expression when he presses into her, the way she cries out and closes her eyes and turns her face to the side. “Look at me....” he says, two gentle fingers against her cheek, turning her face towards him. “...baby...look at me...I want you to look at me...”

She obliges. Breathing ragged. Cheeks flushed.

“Don't ever be embarrassed,” he says. “Ever. Not with me.”

“I can't help it.  I'm not the same person I was five and a half years ago.”

“Neither am I.”

“I've gained weight,” she frets. “My butt is bigger. My hips are wider.”

“You've had babies. My babies.”

“And what happens when I get pregnant again? When I get fat again? If I can't lose the weight after? If I never go back to looking like I do. When you'll want someone else that does look like I used to.”

“Baby...stop...you're beautiful...” he drops his head to press a series of kisses to her collarbone. “...you are so beautiful and I love you so much and I'm never going to stop.  I don't want anyone else. For the rest of my life. Just you.”

“Really?”

Tyler nods, then decides to change his approach. This isn't what she needs right now; a quick and hard fuck. She needs to feel close to him. She needs to feel that the words he is saying are true. She needs to be shown that they're true.  He kisses her; gathering her into his arms, never pulling out of her as he rolls over onto her side. Their tongues moving slow and undemanding against each other, her breasts pressed against his chest,  his hand moving from her hip, travelling down the side of her thigh and around to the back of her knee. Bringing her leg up to drape over his hip. And she gasps into his mouth as he presses into her with one fluid, strong stroke.

She clings to him as he makes love to her. Her arms tightly wound around his neck, her lips against his ear. And he presses kisses over her shoulders and her collarbone; the rough and dirty talk replaced with much sweeter, loving words. About how much he adores her. Worships her. How good it feels to be inside of her. How he will never....ever...get tired of that feeling. That he loves her. That he always will. Until the day he dies.

He only hopes that day isn't hiding around the next corner.

[gumnut-logic]

Shooting Star (Part Four & Epilogue)

I finished it! This bit includes what I posted this morning, plus the rest of the fic. Apologies, I would have saved it for one post, but I didn’t expect to finish it today! Yay! I hope you enjoy it.

From here - Chapters One, Two & Three

-o-o-o-

The whole room froze for a moment.

Then everyone moved.

Scott stepped towards the controls only to have Virgil intercept him yet again. John came up behind, but Virgil held him off with a hand and caught Scott’s eyes with his own.

“Scott, no.”

“You heard her. It’s the only option.”

Virgil placed his hand on Scott’s chest, ever so gently, but with steel. “No.”

Scott’s eyes widened.

“You have to give her a chance.”

“You heard her. She admitted she could not protect John. She could accidentally kill him.”

“And so could I! I could accidentally injure any of you and vice versa. We work in a dangerous environment, but you trust and I trust and you have to give her a chance to earn our trust.”

“Why? Why do I have to risk any of you?! She’s a computer program!”

Virgil straightened. “She.”

Scott stared at him.

“If you can murder an intelligent lifeform in cold blood, then you are not the man I thought you were.”

Virgil clung to those blue eyes with his own. C’mon Scott, please.

Thought flickered across Scott’s face in the barest movements of muscle. His eyes darted to the silent hovering hologram, and the still flashing controls. Virgil readied himself to block his brother again.

But instead Scott turned to John.

“You can control her?”

Their younger brother stood taller to face the eldest. “I wouldn’t say control, exactly. That would be slavery.”

Oh, for Christ’s sake, Johnny.

Scott’s lips thinned. “She can follow rules?”

“Yes, she can.”

“Can you deny her access to life support? To other essential systems that could endanger you or others.”

“I-I can.”

Virgil eyed John.

“Do it.” Scott stepped back and directed his younger brother to the desk. “Cut her off from killing you or anyone else.”

John stared at Scott for a moment, his eyes darting to Virgil for a split second before turning to the holograms, his fingers lifting to play the harmonies of code like Virgil played his piano. “Eos, do I have your permission?”

Scott flared. “You do not need her permission to access your own ‘bird.”

“I will be altering her access. To do so without acknowledgement of the issue-“

It was Virgil’s turn to flare. “John, just do it.” Now was not the time for subtleties.

Turquoise flickered at him with a frown, but those hands darted in and did what had been asked.

“Thank you, John. Commander, thank you for this opportunity.”

“I haven’t decided yet, Eos.” Scott’s eyes were flame. “You are on probation. One step out of order and I will terminate your program.”

“Yes, Commander.”

John’s reaction to that exchange was a silent nuclear explosion. Shut up, John. Take it for what it is and build on it later.

Virgil still kept his position between Scott and Eos. It was a sign of exactly how much damage this night had done to their relationship. Part of him wilted inside and mourned for the loss of trust.

As if to emphasise that thought, Scott’s gaze then pinned Virgil where he stood. “This is on you. Against my better judgment.” Thin lips and anger that told Virgil this was far from over. A cast off glance in John’s direction. “I hope time proves you are right, because if you’re not...” He flicked his eyes at the still hovering hologram. His finger reached out and poked Virgil in the chest. “This...this is on you.”

Scott spun on his heel and stalked out of the comms room.

The moment Scott was out of earshot, John sighed wilted against the desk. “Oh, thank god.”

Virgil stayed where he stood, thoughts spinning in his head. His heart was beating a mile a minute.

“Thank you, Virgil.”

Honest turquoise was staring at him wide-eyed in gratitude. Virgil swallowed, still not sure what he felt other than cornered. Parched voice. “Make it worth it.”

He turned his back on his brother and headed out towards the kitchen. He needed some time alone to think and process. To work out whether he had aided and abetted something good.

Or something he would regret for the rest of his life.

-o-o-o-

Epilogue

It was hours later when Virgil finally made it back to the villa. He had wandered down to the beach, revelling in the darkness and the quiet. It wasn’t his favourite beach, but another, further away, hopefully where he wouldn’t be interrupted.

His wish had been respected and he had ended up walking up and down the sand just thinking. He threw off his boots and let his toes sink into the sand and eventually into the foaming surf.

His thoughts had drifted from John to Eos to the nature of life and intelligence, to his parents and what they would have thought, the implications if everything went bad. He worried and he worked through it.

Ultimately, despite the fear of what might happen, he did feel that Scott had made the right decision. It just wasn’t an easy decision to live with at the moment.

God, he hoped, he begged, Eos was worth the chance they were giving her. If she was, this could become a beautiful thing.

If she wasn’t, it could become hell.

His head was such a mess, he lost track of time and it was well into the early hours of the morning when he hit the stairs to the residential levels. A shower and bed were foremost on his agenda and he couldn’t get to his rooms fast enough.

So it was with mild annoyance that when he stumbled past John’s rooms, he found his brother’s door agape. Not that it was a major issue and for a split second he thought to just leave it open. John was atrocious at remembering certain things worked certain ways on terra firma that they did not in space. Automatically closing doors was one of them. So just like the occasional broken glass that did not float in midair, John left doors open behind himself all the time. In a couple of hours, both Scott and Gordon would be up making noise and John’s relatively fragile sleep would be disturbed, leading to an out-of-sorts spaceman who would be more unpredictable that usual.

After tonight, that was the last thing they needed.

So, Virgil reached in to close the door.

Only to find the light in John’s bedroom was on anyway, the door to that room also open and his brother speaking to someone.

Eos.

The conversation caught him before he could retreat.

“You’re safe now, Eos. I promise. You don’t need to worry.”

“But he still wants to kill me.” Eos’ voice was trembling with worry. How could an AI do that? Why would an AI do that? “What if he doesn’t believe me? What if he does it when you’re not looking?”

“You are backed up. We made sure of it, you know that.”

“Doesn’t make it easy to trust.”

“Then perhaps you can see Scott’s side of the equation.”

“It is frightening. Honestly, I would have killed me if I was him.”

“Eos!”

“It’s true! The risk is too much.”

“The fact you understand that proves I am right and we did the right thing.”

“Did you like my performance?”

“It was very good, but don’t make a habit of it. Lying is in poor taste.”

“But you said I had to convince the Commander that he could kill me. And you lied, too!”

Virgil’s breath caught in his throat.

“I lied because I had to save you. It was the only way. You had to convince Virgil or we would never have persuaded Scott.”

“The Commander is mean. Virgil doesn’t like me either.”

“Scott does what he has to do. You must respect him for that. Virgil is trying. He’s as afraid as Scott is, but he is more likely to see reason and Scott values his opinion more than anyone else’s.”

“Why? You’re his brother, too.”

Silence for a moment. “It’s just the way it’s always been.”

Somewhere under the lump in his throat, Virgil’s heart clenched.

“Thank you for helping me stay in Thunderbird Five.”

“You are welcome, Eos.”

Virgil blinked several times and pressed his lips together before pulling the door quietly shut and walking away.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[anonymoustoddler]

I Got Stoned And Started Typing To Post On FB (And Ended With Something That Could NEVER Get Posted)

Hah. I hit my vape pen a bunch and then this happened:

This afternoon, after taking way too many hits of my *state tested, clean and safe* vape pen, I was surfing hulu on my laptop while scrolling through facebook on my phone and playing Stardew Valley on the PS4 every few minutes in between and I suddenly, in fact altogether _casually_ thought to myself, “I wonder if I’d want kids and be able to take care of them if I made it to 38?”

And the thing is, that is literally the most positive organic thought I’ve had in my VERY busy, VERY chatty brain in almost two years. It is the first thought I have had regarding a potential future that wasn’t colored by the idea that My Mom Is Dead So Nothing I Could Do In Life Would Mean Anything Or Be Possible Because She Isn’t Here To Experience It Too Or To Help Me Through.

This stoned, distracted, completely mindless and unfocused random little insignificant thought... is the first time in over a year and a half of thinking, that did not immediately end with, “She’s Dead So You Can’t Ever Hope For That Anymore Because It Means Nothing Now That She Can’t Be There To Experience It Or Get To Be Proud Of Me For Once” and also, “Nothing Is Possible Without Her Because Without Her I’m Alone And Unable Forever Unless Someone Else Takes Over Helping Me But That Will Never Happen And I Will Never Be Ok Or Able On My Own.”

I mean, no wonder I’m doing so poorly and also dealing so badly with her death?! Being close was great in a lot of ways and awful in others. Our codependent enmeshment was deeply and traumatically unhealthy. Having to be your mother’s best and only friend at 8 years old is... really weird. And abnormal. But then, so is developing a diagnosable anxiety disorder and eating disorder at FOUR YEARS OLD is kind of abnormal too!

The thing is... some physical aspects of puberty for me started very early. VERY early. All aspects of puberty seemed to start earlier in me than a lot of girls in my class, in my grade. So maybe it makes sense too then that I would develop these psychological issues so early, particularly with the stress and fear of moving from Texas to Michigan and leaving the first friends I remember having, how terrified I was of change and meeting new people, trying to make new friends. I was so painfully and obviously shy. I was so afraid of people.

But anyway. No one caught the anxiety disorder until I did myself.... in college. I lived with a totally unchecked anxiety disorder and pretty high-but-not-yet-extreme depression from the ages of five and eleven/twelve respectively, and the first time I got ANY help was at the age of 19. No wonder I was sick for so long. The fucking eating disorder is suuuuch a perfect(ly horrifying) coping mechanism. And since it was my primary, and often only, coping mechanism for many many many years, as in almost ALL of the first two decades of my life. Two decades of drilling this into myself of How To Relieve Stress And Self Soothe = Disordered Behaviors And NOTHING ELSE.

Is it really any wonder why I’m like this??? I am dealing with the loss of my only family; my best friend by leaps and bounds and freakin lightyears; my entire and very giving safety net - so I could try something new or move away or whatever and I knew I was safe because if it didn’t work out or I tanked I could ALWAYS go home. Always.

I’m also dealing with the loss of... the person who never let me try things because she was a control freak so I could never learn from her; the person who taught me the

passive aggressive ➡️ passive aggressive ➡️ very aggressive

method of responding to interpersonal relations, which I mean... how could anything go wrong?! 🙃🙃🙃

I’m dealing with the loss of a relationship where my mom once, in all seriousness, asked me if I’d have a baby if I didn’t have to take care of it, she would take care of it for me.

Like, I know part of her was “joking” but... she wanted to be a grandmother. She wanted to see me have a career, a family, security.

But also who sort of benefited from my continued illness; my inability to cope or work; my low functionality, my constant need of help, support, and validation... they made her SO frustrated but also kept her busy and kept her from being alone, kept me with her but also sometimes was too much for her so it was upsetting, because surprise - crazy people gon turn up a notch higher than you can predict, and don’t ever forget that.

I am mourning this relationship that either fully shaped or strongly influenced almost every issue I have now. I don’t mean to shirk responsibility, just to be clear - I have to actually try as much as is literally possible to fix the things in me that are broken. I have to find a therapist and go to therapy. Trust my doctors, try a hundred different meds that might ALL make me horribly sick or even more crazy or both as side effects while still trying to build some kind of life. Maybe, eventually, find one, but also... get out of bed every day. Shower, brush your teeth, get dressed, GET OUT. Grab your coat boots keys purse and go outside. Make it into your car, drive it down a few blocks (depending on where you want coffee/are you reading a book or can you play HP there/etc), get coffee and sit and read or play a bit or work lines or whatever. Make your to do list there! Lay out a plan for the day. Schedule at least two work items then set a timed break for video games or whatever. When the alarm goes off, you MUST get back to work. Two to three more items earns a longer break to play OR taking care of any other immediate need stuff and then going out or something.

If you want to get some casual exercise, go to either mall. Walk around for Shopkick, the game, and to get your blood flowing at least a teensy bit while working out rarely used muscles and burning juuuuust a few calories.

You spend SO much goddamned money on delivery, when actually — Going out yourself is SO much better for you. It is obviously MUCH cheaper, but it’s also good to get out of the house even if only going to and from the car and into the store or restaurant or whatever, and it’s very VERY important to drive the car regularly, to keep the battery functional and the guts ok. ((Also RE: CARS — Next warm day, that Prius goes through an intense car wash. Need to get that shit out so it stops stinking, prob growing mold ugh ugh need fix!))

But I mean JUST THINK how much money you’d have left, maybe to even treat yourself to better things, and also if I stop ordering, I will 100% lose weight. So muck fucking weight lmao. And with a job, I’ve got two sources of income coming in! And hopefully still medicaid for as long as I can possibly have it 😭

This got REALLY away from my stoned assssss BUT. The original point is this:

I thought about myself as potentially being alive six years from now, which is very much not what I see lately but which, for once, didn’t automatically sound like a punishment, and I thought of myself six years older and wondering if I might be better enough to be an ok caregiver and also have a relationship that could sustain children coming in, and I was able to and did have one?? That’s SO bananas to me lol. It made me feel... weirdly hopeful though.

[strapcats]

Thicker Than Water (Part 11)

↬ Genre: Gang au, angst, drama, eventual fluff

↬ Pairing: Jeongin x Chan

↬ Word Count: 3,846

↬ Description: Dépaysement- (n.) When someone is taken out of their own familiar world and pushed into a new one.

–

Yang Jeongin is a young Busan runaway with a sharp tongue.

Bang Chan is the easily-offended leader of a crime syndicate.

Read on Wattpad // Read on Archive

Part(s) One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven

!!!DISCLAIMER AND WARNING!!!

I am very against underage smut, especially with skz becuase they're my ults and I hate the idea of sexualizing minors. With this in mind, this chapter includes some stuff that I'll classify as "heated". I'll put a warning before where it is, so you can skip it if you want.

---

“I know I sound like an idiot but that’s beside the point.” Felix spoke angrily, running his hands through his soft white hair again in anxious feeling. “I think I really like him, Changbin. Honestly. And all he ever does is run in circles with BC. I fed him when he first came here! I made sure he didn’t freeze on the solid ground since that asshat didn’t give him a blanket!” Felix was near shouting now, he was so frustrated.

“Felix, I get it, and it’s not stupid. Honestly you just have to get over him. I can’t give you much more advice than that, because that appears to be the only way you’re going to get out in one piece.” Changbin spoke calmly, his voice unwavering and full of compassion. The slightly older male was trying to comfort his friend, though he was just a little out of reach. Felix sniffled in defeat.

“Thank you hyung… I’ll do my best.” The white haired male spoke calmly again and thanked his undercut friend. Changbin had recently had it redone, and it looked so sharp. To Felix, the style really suited him, it made him look handsome. The pair of boys had been brought into Clan 09 around the same time, so they became fast friends. Felix sought out gang life, and Chan was his easy in. The freckled boy needed to support his family, and taking people out was an easy way to make big bank. 75% of each of his paychecks got automatically wired to his family’s bank account, they thought he was a freelance artist that happened to be hitting the right deals. Changbin was yanked into the crime syndicate web after he got into ring fights. He ended up losing against Chan and the penalty was three months of work. Of course he accepted, he was a good sport. After the three months however, he had grown to love the lifestyle, and he had found that Chan was a fantastic person to have on your side. So he stayed.

A few rooms away, Minho, Jisung, and Seungmin were chatting over a high-stakes game of M&M poker. Minho was winning. The eldest of the three had joined the gang life at 17 out of sheer rebellion. Clan 09 hardly existed at the time, and Minho was one of the founding members. Jisung joined up purely for the thrill, because nothing in the world felt better to him than sprinting through the dim-lit Seoul streets from a squad of police cars with an AK-47 strapped to your back. Seungmin was scouted by BC, he was the brightest teen hacker in Korea. He had taken up computer science and technology studies in high school, thinking that the government would notice his potential and he could make his family proud. They never saw him, not even when he hacked their security systems for the hell of it. So he started looking elsewhere, in deeper, darker places. The boy-wonder had caught the eye of a number of less-than-legal businesses, but Chan was able to coax him in with good money and a fantastic cover story. Seungmin’s family thought he was a government iT agent now.

Kim Woojin was rebandaging a cut on Hyunjin’s arm in the younger’s office, while he counted money. The black-haired boy ran into the dangerous gang lifestyle headfirst, as his sister got caught up in a hostage situation, or so he thought. The boy was fooled by a rival gang to work for them, but Chan snatched him up before he started working for someone else. The young boy meant to leave, he really did, but once his first paycheck rolled in, he never wanted to leave. Designer brand after designer brand, he got more and more comfortable in his role as treasurer. Woojin on the other hand, was born into his syndicate role. His father was one of the first mafia bosses in Seoul, so when Woojin was born, it became his birthright. After witnessing his father’s murder by his right-hand man, however, he decided to stray from his original path and let his father’s old mafia die out. Kim Woojin was infamous in the syndicate web, everyone wanted a piece of him and his bloodline, regardless of his loyalties. Chan though, had other plans, and made Clan 09 with his best friend as soon as he knew that he was free from his father’s clutches. They were the seed that sprouted into the intricate web of illegal activity that Seoul seemed to thrive on.

Jeongin sat on his bed in his room, surfing the internet and browsing social media. All the higher-ups of the gang had been doing nothing but planning since their shootout with Purity Ring, and Jeongin was not in that circle. He was unaware of any plans or ideas in the making, but “mid-late April” was drawing ever nearer by the day. He trusted his teammates, so he just laid low, they would figure something out.

“Knock knock.” A voice at the door pulled Jeongin out of his thoughts, so he looked up to find a very cute looking Felix standing in his doorway. The younger boy waved him in and scooted over on the bed a little to make room for his friend. The white-haired male took his silent offer and sat next to him on the plush bed, leaning back against the headboard and picking up a pillow to put in his lap and hug. Jeongin chuckled at the boy’s actions.

“You look really cute today, Felix. And your socks are very nice.” The curly-haired young boy spoke clearly with a slight giggle in his throat, pointing out Felix’s appearance. He wore a light pink beanie, white melange ribbed joggers, and a black, longsleeved thermal tee that clung to his lean body. He had on fuzzy socks that matched the color of his hat and had little ears and a face embroidered on each one to look like bunnies. Jeongin thought they looked cozy.

“Ah ~ Thank you Jeonginnie. You’re not too bad yourself.” Felix blushed as he spoke, unable to contain his smile. Jeongin reciprocated the loving grin and nodded in thanks. The younger boy didn’t feel like he was wearing anything special, just a pink and white floral silk sleep shirt, and a pair of white fleece shorts with fuzzy socks similar to Felix’s but without the embroidery.

“Did you have a reason to come compliment me and steal my pillows or did you just wanna hang out?” Jeongin asked playfully, nudging Felix with his elbow as he went back to scrolling. His friend’s face dropped quickly and he began to subconsciously fiddle with his fingers. His eyes dropped to the soft sheets on the younger boy’s bed. Jeongin became concerned. “Hyung? What’s up?” His voice was laced with worry for his best friend, he thought something was drastically wrong. Felix sighed.

“Don’t worry Jeongin it’s nothing bad, I’m just… I’m just scared.” Felix’s voice was soft, and Jeongin leaned in to hear it, only making the elder’s nerves worse. He took a deep breath. “I know it won’t work out for a multitude of reasons but it’s been eating away at me and I really want to tell you that I kind of like you. And I mean, like-like you. I guess I’m confessing right now.” Jeongin’s eyes widened, but before he could think of a response, Felix kept talking in his quiet, tense voice.

“I just, actually feel alive when I’m near you. Ever since I joined 09 I’ve just been living day to day waiting on my paychecks and only having a little bit of fun with Jisung or Changbin here and there. Chan is a great older brother figure but ever since you came along it’s almost like you’ve brought this warmth and kindness with you that makes me not dread waking up every morning. Being around you when you’re happy is intoxicating and contagious, and it’s the best feeling in the world. God, and not to mention the fact that you’re physically a prince. Your eyes are so changeable and deep and your dimples add so much to your already beautiful smile. You have perfect proportions and I know this is probably too far but your lips look painfully kissable.” Felix rambled on and on, eventually getting louder and more confident in his words, like he was getting lost in the idea of Jeongin even when the boy was sitting right in front of him.

“And when you talk about BC and the way he treats you, it makes my blood boil. He has no idea the damage he’s causing or what a precious gift he’s rejecting. You want to please him and be his friend and make him proud so badly and he just spits in your face and calls you names. You deserve better, Jeongin! He doesn’t respect you like you should, he doesn’t understand how lucky he is that he’s receiving your affections, even after all the bullshit he’s done.” Felix was nearly yelling now, and his eyes were glassy with intense emotion. He felt so strongly and he had never said all of his feelings out loud before, so everything just came tumbling out without a filter. He barely noticed that Jeongin was withered backwards away from Felix. He looked like a wilting flower, so beautiful but so distressed that it was eating away at his form. The older boy finally came out of his trance-like state and noticed the now shaking boy across from him. His eyes were cast downward and he was trying to make himself as small as possible. He winced at himself and then reached out a hand to try and comfort his younger friend, only to be met by Jeongin flinching away violently. That one stung.

“J-Jeongin…? I’m sorr-” Felix tried to start, but the younger cut him off.

“D-don’t you dare tell me what I do and don’t deserve. My feelings are my own and you have no right to dictate them. A-and you come here, confessing your emotions, and what do you think is going to come out of it? A relationship? I’m barely 17, and you don’t know the first thing about why I’m even here.” Jeongin spoke his words quietly, almost afraid of them. They cut through Felix like a knife, but he knew the younger was right. “I’m flattered, and I like you as a friend, as my best friend, but you have no power over who receives my affection and who doesn’t.” The black haired boy finished up his thoughts as he stood up and walked to the door. He stared at the floor and Felix saw crystalline drops falling from the young boys face. He pointed out the door.

“Go.”

And Felix did, without a word of protest, without any movement but getting up and walking out of the cozy room. Jeongin closed the door behind him and fell face first onto his bed again. He thought he would start bawling, but no more tears came than the ones already softly streaming down his supple skin. He felt hopeless and like his body was made of lead. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to because of the weight of his emotions crushing his back and shoulders. His best friend had a crush on him, and now their relationship was ruined. Jeongin was alone again.

The young boy only had one idea in his head, and he knew it was a stupid one. He decided against his better judgement and stood up from his comfy bed and walked to the mirror. He checked his appearance momentarily to make sure he didn’t look like he’d just been crying, before walking out of his room and down the dimly lit hall to the last door at the very end. Before he could even knock on it though, Woojin opened the door to BC’s room from inside, surprising both of them. The older male only had on silk pajama pants and basic socks, no shirt. Jeongin had seen almost every member without their shirts, save Woojin and Chan. Well, now just Chan.

The older male didn’t say a word as he stepped out of the room that definitely was not his, and walked around Jeongin, breaking eye contact only when he finally had to. The honey colored boy didn’t close the door, so he took that as an invitation in. Though he had been in it before, Chan’s room never ceased to surprise him.

It was bigger than all the other rooms, and rightfully so. He had a king-sized bed that was a bit raised off the ground on a solid black platform. He had a dresser across from his bed and an indented closet in the wall. On the dresser a couple glass bubbles sat with little air plants in them. There was a black and white geometric rug on the floor and a few miscellaneous things like clothes and gun harnesses strewn about. It had a pyramidal skylight that had clearly been redone, as it had clean, slightly fogged glass panes instead of the dingy, rusting ones that were present in the rest of the warehouse. There were small succulents hanging on little gold chains from the corners of the light, as that was the only place they could get direct sunlight. Jeongin smiled a little bit at the thought of his leader having plants. BC had simple black sheets with nearly invisible wide navy blue stripes on it. He had a few pillows, and no plushies. The older man’s voice took him out of his thoughts.

“What do you need, Fox?” BC spoke clearly, his eyes cutting right through Jeongin’s weak facade. There was no emotion in his voice, no resentment or concern or irritation; it was just flat. Jeongin gulped.

“Yeah… I just kinda wanted to talk to you sir… I don’t feel so good.” Jeongin fiddled with his pants a little bit and cast his eyes to the floor. Now it was the leader’s turn to gulp. Sir.

“Jeongin, you’ve never called me sir, what’s going on?” Chan closed his laptop that he was fake-working on and turned his full attention to the young boy in his doorway. His voice was still emotionless, it reminded Jeongin of when he first met the older.

“Oh, yeah… sorry. It’s just that Felix, well, he confessed to me.” Jeongin spoke ever quieter, only casting his eyes upward when he apologized. Distress and shame were evident in his tone and caused Chan a small bit of unidentifiable worry. He heard Chan sigh in apparent irritation and hit the top of his laptop in frustration. Jeongin looked up at the noise to be met with Chan’s stony glare. Jeongin felt his heartrate pick up speed for a couple of reasons.

“Jeongin, come here.” The leader spoke, disregarding his rare sign of emotion that he displayed just a moment ago and patted the bed close to his thigh as a motion for where Jeongin should sit. The young boy followed his directions obediently, only breaking eye contact to make sure he didn’t step on anything important on the floor. He sat lightly and scooted over to where Chan has pointed out, the pair’s thighs barely touching as he settled.

“I have to ask the obvious, do you like him back? Did you accept his feelings?” The leader spoke, showing a little bit of boredom by the questions he of course had to ask. Unsurprisingly, Jeongin shook his head disdainfully. Chan nodded back, not needing any more explanation.

“In that case, why did you come to me? Shouldn’t you have resolved it with Felix?” The black-haired boy said with a twinge of annoyance in his voice, making Jeongin crumble inside. The younger had no idea why he came to Chan, his mind just told him to. So he shrugged noncommittally. Chan rolled his eyes and scooted just a tiny bit closer to his youngest member. “Jeongin. Tell me why you’re here. I can’t do anything for you otherwise.” Chan spoke with a hint of condescension lacing his words and so Jeongin took a breath.

“Because I felt like I needed to tell you. You were the only person I wanted to tell, hyung. I don’t know why but I did and now I’m here looking weak and vulnerable again and making your life harder with problems that aren’t yours.” Jeongin’s speech picked up speed quickly, the stress and confusion eating away at him at a rapid pace. He just needed reassurance and comfort, neither of which Chan seemed like he would be doling out anytime soon. The pair sat in silence for quite a while before Jeongin felt awkward, causing him to look down at the striped duvet and pick at a loose thread. He felt the need to get up and leave, but right before he started to move he felt Chan’s hand on his own. He looked up slowly, a slightly stunned expression on his face. His eyes met his leader’s and he gulped, heat rising in the back of his throat. The older male turned his hands over in his palms and just comforted the younger through physical touch. After a couple of silent minutes Chan took a breath.

“I know that everything is confusing right now. And I also know that I have been anything but a good leader to you. I'm sorry, Jeongin.” The older male spoke calmly and cooly, and for once showed emotion in his voice towards the younger boy. Jeongin looked down again and nodded. Chan shook his head and reached out to touch the black haired boy's face. He used two fingers to lift the boy's head to look at him again, startling him and unknowingly cause a vicious blush to grow on his face. Jeongin gulped and looked at Chan’s lips momentarily without really meaning to. Some meaning flashed between them, and before he realized, Chan was leaning in ever so slightly, then Jeongin, and then their lips met.

!!!THIS IS THE WARNING!!!

It wasn't fireworks, it was more; it was like pyrotechnics at a stadium concert. Jeongin’s soft lips tasted like bubblegum and intoxicated the leader, only sending him reeling. Chan's hand cradled Jeongin’s face, pulling him closer to him, the younger’s body pressing against his own. Their lips were locked in a long-awaited embrace, and even when he realized he needed air, Chan refused to let go. They felt like they fit together, long they’d been searching for something and the moment their lips touched they found it. Jeongin was the first to pull away, much to BC’s distress. The younger was now basically on Chan’s lap, his wrists draped over his hyung’s shoulders and neck in a very feminine way. Chan’s hands had moved from his members face to his hips, subconsciously squeezing them to draw him closer. The smaller boy let his forehead rest on Chan’s for a moment, catching his breath and biting his lip a little bit in awkward anticipation. BC was just soaking up the view.

“Hyung, how long have you wanted to do that?” Jeongin asked abashedly, averting his gaze from Chan once again. Chan chuckled and squeezed the boy’s hips again, making him squirm a little in unexpected pleasure.

“I didn’t really know how badly I wanted it, wanted you, until you were leaning in, fox.” The leader’s words sent chills down Jeongin’s spine and the speaker blushed slightly at himself. The pair sat in relative silence for a few minutes, letting their actions settle into the air. Chan was happy, but thoroughly scared as to what this meant for the future of the Clan. He was about to open his mouth to speak when Jeongin started to move, Chan thought to leave. Instead, the younger boy simply fixed their position so he was straddling his leader’s lap. Chan felt heat rise to his cheeks for the first time in front of someone else and when he met Jeongin’s eyes with his own there was a devilish fire within them that made the leader gulp.

“J-Jeongin… What are you-” Chan tried to speak but was cut off abruptly by Jeongin’s lips on the corner of his own, clearly trying to tease him. The black haired boy quickly realized what the boy on his lap was trying to do so he just sat still, not reacting to the tempting things the younger decided to do with his lips. He kissed the corner of his lips, then trailed his kisses to the older male’s neck and ear, giving Chan goosebumps from the younger’s bated breath.

“Come on hyung… why don’t you play along?” Jeongin’s mischievous side was back out in full force and it lit a fire inside Chan just like how it had when they first met. He groaned in a displeased manner before moving the younger away from his tattooed neck and placed his attention back on his lips. Jeongin smiled in an accomplished manner into Chan’s mouth, running his hands through the elder’s hair and settling his hands on his cheeks. Chan’s rested on his partner’s hips again, and when their lips began to melt into each other, the elder pulled Jeongin roughly closer to him by his hips, earning a surprised noise from the younger boy, delighting Chan. The older boy licked Jeongin’s bottom lip, and the smaller eagerly accepted his invitation. They continued, Jeongin’s breath progressively getting hotter and came out in shorter pants, Chan becoming greedier by the second. Eventually Jeongin found the willpower to push his partner away, because he knew at this point Chan never would. The boy in question looked up at Jeongin with a confused glance before trying to go back in for his swollen pink lips, but the smaller boy just pulled farther away.

“B-BC, we have to stop… I’m still a minor and we have an attack on the horizon…” Jeongin stuttered out his words between sharp intakes of breath. He tried to keep his eyes away from Chan’s face, he knew that just one look from the leader’s lust-filled eyes would send any impulse control to the wind and he couldn’t go that far, he was still too young. He felt Chan loosen his death grip on Jeongin’s thighs, where his hands seemed to have travelled during their heated moment. The boy scooted away a bit, making sure to put safe distance between them now. Chan nodded at the actions, understanding and agreeing that it was probably the best course of action. The pair sat in silence before Chan flopped down backwards on his plush bed, surprising Jeongin a little bit. The smaller boy looked at him skeptically before BC rose a hand and beckoned him to come, Jeongin obediently obliged and crawled over to his leaders side, lying next to him happily. A strong arm snaked around his waist and the pair eventually drifted off to sleep, a million unspoken words dangling in the air between them.

[koganelovesmcclain]

All the even numbers!! (for the mlm ask) and all the odd numbers!! (for the noisy ask) *evil laughter* (or just every other even/odd number if that's to much :P)

mlm asks

2. Sweaters or hoodies?hoodies

4. Denim or leather jackets?leather

6. How do you like your tea?i don’t lol

8. Favorite fall color??? orange

10. Do you have a crush?Several :’)12. Are you a pastel, neon, or neutral color mlm?pastel/ neutral14. Do you like boys taller or shorter than you?any?? nwownofadkalk

16. What’s your favorite cologne smell?idk?18. What’s more romantic: cabin getaway, or tropical vacation?they both sound amazing20. Do you believe in love at first sight?not really? 22. Do you like sitting in a boys lap, or do you prefer when a boy sits in yours?both?24. What’s one of your favorite memories of being in love?i have none :((26. Would you like to take his last name when you marry?… idk? like,,, i don’t like my last name that much, but it’s mine?28. Do you interlock fingers when you hold hands?sometimes30. What’s better, waking up to him in the morning, or falling asleep next to him at night?ahhhhhh waking up32. What makes you blush?literally everything :’)34. Big spoon or little spoon?little36. Would you enjoy it if he bought you flowers?i would die38. Have you ever asked a boy out?god no!!!!!!!!!!40. What’s one of your fave love songs?can’t help falling in love -elvis presley

nosy asks

1: The last person you kissed screams they love you, you say…‘wtf rascal u can talk?’ goienofineoine3: You never know what you got until you lose it?true5: How many kids do you want?idk, i wanna adopt/foster kids? i’d take as many as i could handle financially i think? i want to be a good parent to kids who don’t have them?7: Did you stand on your tippy-toes for your last kiss?n/a9: Last person to talk on the phone?my mom?11: When’s your birthday?september 16th13: What kind of phone do you have?an offbrand walmart phone15: Are you a different person now than you were 5 years ago?yeah17: Would you rather write a paper or give a speech?write a paper19: Last night you felt…?angry/sad21: Ever told your parents you were going somewhere but when somewhere different?i’m not allowed to leave my house :^) so nope23: Are you a morning or night person?depends?25: Do you reply to all of your texts?usually27: Did your last kiss take place in/on a bed?no29: How many months until your birthday?2?31: Did you like this past summer?i guess?33: Your ex is sitting next to you, with their new partner. What do you do?i don’t have an ex35: Your mood summed into one work?eh37: What are your initials?S.R.F.  (surf rnogivenoiie)39: Do you still talk to the person you liked 4 months ago?mmm yeah?41: Have you had your birthday this year?not yet43: What will you be doing tomorrow?nothing really? but going to the bank 45: Is there anyone you would do anything for?my sis 47: Do you believe ex’s can be just friends?i guess?49: How many people have you had feelings for in the year of 2012?…i’ve kind of blocked out most of 2012/2013 51: Have you ever dyed your hair?no i’m afraid to :’)

53: Was New Year’s Even enjoyable?shrug55: How would your parents react if you got a tattoo?idk. 57: If you could move away, no questions asked, where would it be?florida?59: Has anything upset you in the past week?my parents fighting61: Today, would you rather go forward a week or back?back i guess?63: Have you ever talked to someone when they were high?i don’t know?65: Have you ever copied someone elses homework?yeah 67: Do you automatically check your phone when you wake up?yep69: Could you use some sleep right now?probably71: Does it bother you when someone hides things from you?yeah. it drives me insane73: Have you ever slept in the same room with someone you liked?no75: Do you get annoyed easily?depends?77: Do you have a person of the opposite sex that you can tell everything to?idk?79: How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust?i mean,,, maybe 3?81: What color hoodie did you wear last?probably black?

i think this is the longest post i’ve ever made?? iovenoieoe

[sublimeglitterenemy]

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[callitfreedom]

IT’S A BIG WORLD OUT THERE

Leaving Borneo was hard for me. Really really hard. This place was like home. I had family there, people I trust, people I love and truly care about. Malaysia was in familiar in a way I can’t really explain, it was a feeling like I belonged there. Heading to Thailand was a big deal, bigger than it should have been. And I remember not wanting to go at first.


Things didn’t get easier when I checked my mails the day before my departure and I saw that my flight was delayed so much that instead of just changing the plane in KL I had to stay overnight. This was something I didn’t expect at all but it was actually doing me a favour. Some of you might remember Andy (wildlife photographer, married to Maureen, stayed with them for a couple of days in the Owl House in Ba’Kelalan). Andy happens to live in KL so I asked him to stay at his place for the night. He and one of his friends (who happens to be a uber driver) picked me up at KL Central, we went for some nice Indian food and chit chatted for what felt like a couple of hours. That evening (mostly spent at that Indian place and later at his apartment aka “the batcave” where you have by the way a stunning view over KL) was full of laughter, great stories and really good conversation. It was like reuniting with an old friend and was exactly what I needed before leaving Malaysia for good. 


Thank you Andy, for giving me those last couple of hours in that beautiful country! And I’ll stick to my word, it is still a see ya and not a goodbye

THAILAND

Phuket gave me a rather unpleasant welcome. As soon as I stepped out of the airport (again massive delay of flight. If anyone of you ever plans a trip to Asia NEVER take Malindo Air!!! they are rude, always late and I think I never had less space in a plane) I immediately wanted to go back. Outside of the airport were like a billion people, Thai and foreigners. It was horrible. Taxi drivers yelling at you and following every tourist that was stupid enough to slow down for a sec. Tourists pushing their way through the crowd. HORRIBLE! It was just too much for me as I was never a big fan of crowds but after the peace and quiet I enjoyed in Malaysia it was downright terrifying.
Anyway I managed to get away from the busiest spot and tried to find the cheapest way to Phukets pier where my ferry to Koh Phi Phi departed and where I was finally meeting the family friend I was supposed to meet a day earlier. Because of my delay and too many people I made a big mistake. Dumbest thing I’ve done so far. I forgot there was an hour difference between Malaysia and Thailand which meant I had one hour more to get to the pier. However, I thought I had one and a half hours for a way that’s supposed to take one hour with the bus (cheapest way to go, 150 Baht) which departure was 40 minutes later. So I figured I had to go there on the fastest way (and most expensive, 700 Baht) and took a taxi. Fuck me, I spent almost five times more than I had to just because I was being stupid. Here’s my advice for you: always let your phone set the time zone automatically and you won’t make this stupid mistake!! I assure you my day got better as soon as I was on that ferry. I met my travel mate, we chatted for a while how everything’s going and arrived on the stunning Phi Phi islands! We didn’t expect so many people to go there but it was still a breathtaking view.

We shared a nice bungalow in the hills with a pretty good with over the island and far away from the loud beach parties at night (you can hear them on the whole island). After exploring our accommodation we went swimming on a smaller beach. The sea was stunning, almost hot and really clear. That day we watched one of most the beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen from the beach with some nice fruit shakes and me trying Pad Thai (Thailand’s national dish) for the first time.

The second day we started exploring the small city and decided to go out at night. Well, I decided to get really drunk. Which I did. We went to a pretty cool rooftop bar, wandered around in the town and ended up at the beach parties where we enjoyed watching the fire show, Limbo and dancing. 

My body thanked me for the mixture of delicious cocktails, beer and (free) shots with a massive hangover the next day. I cured it at a nice beach bar with a mango shake and some really good fried noodles. I ended up staying at that place for more than two hours because that one Thai (former tour guide) working there started telling me about Thailand’s main attractions, where to go an what to see. He’s a funny guy, always smiling and joking around. I went to that bar again in the evening or rather night after I got my first bamboo tattoo! Funny thing: I went there by myself, a little bit nervous and ended up chatting with a really nice american guy for the whole procedure who joined me for a drink after that.

The following day we continued our trip to Koh Lanta. I’d really like to tell you something about that island but I’ve been sick for the whole time we spent there. Yeah, had a really fun time there! But at least now I know that you can just walk into a pharmacy and buy some penicillin without prescription. Oh, I actually have one thing to say: I watched Dark while I lay around in our hotel room (almost dying) and I strongly recommend watching the show!!! That’s it for Koh Lanta, sadly.

Less than a week ago I spent three days in Krabi, exploring the cute city and area. On my very first day I discovered a beautiful buddhist temple! Think I sat there for two hours just enjoying the sensation of finally being alone. It was very peaceful. That and having a full body massage that night made me sleep like a baby and fully recover.

The next morning I went for a day trip to Rai Leh. It’s really close to Krabi, you go from the city to Ao Nang Beach where you take a long-tail boat to the Rai Leh. This place is stunning. Just beautiful!! But way too crowded in my opinion. Which made me go climb up all the way to the viewpoint and later to a small lagoon on top of the hill.  Climbing up to the viewpoint is exhausting but manageable. Going to the lagoon is not for the weaker hearts. There are some points where you only got a rope to hang on or some bamboo-ladders (not trustworthy at all!) to climb down. Good for me, tho. Cause that meant not a lot of people went down there. That lagoon was magical. Like a home for fairies. Probably the most beautiful thing on Rai Leh, definitely worth a visit.

Truly shattered I fell into bed that evening and woke up to a morning full of excitement. You wanna know why? Well, I decided to try something new. That morning I started hitchhiking. Usually not a big deal, but it turned out to be rather difficult because where I started (Ao Luek) NOBODY spoke english. So i had to write down some useful phrases in Thai (took me ten minutes for like four sentences). That actually helped even though it led people to the conclusion I had no money at all (Thais are not familiar with the concept of hitchhiking). 
So I ended up in a truck with Bunsong and his sleeping daughter who took me home to his family to offer me accommodation. He lives near a town called Surat Thani. This area was so originally Thai that they don’t speak a word english except for “hello” and “thank you”. How did we manage to communicate? Google translate for the win. Just try to imagine spending nearly 24 hours with a bunch of people and the only way you can talk to them or explain yourself is via a translation app. They didn’t really understand me, were really concerned and started buying me food and cooking for me even though I insisted they should not. Everybody wanted to take some pictures and talk to me (how??) and was really really kind. 
I would say first time hitchhiking in Thailand went good. Strange and complicated but good!

The day after I got to the airport nearby to meet Raf (a guy from couch surfing who wanted to join me). We met up and started half an hour later and had a lucky strike!
David, a cute old guy from the UK who happens to live in Thailand for seven years, picked us up and gave us a lift. He brought us to a small temple in the middle of nowhere (Amphoe Lang Suan - Na Phaya) right at the sea and even offered us to give us his bike as long as we are around. We asked the monk if we could stay for the night and he agreed immediately. To be honest I never met a stranger person than that monk, he was just downright crazy! Whatever, we stayed at the temple for a night. A night full of bugs and spiders and two hours of sleep. 

David came to see us again and offered that we could stay at his house if we want and now I’m here in Lang Suan, exploring the area (hot springs, luminescent plankton, temples and beaches) with Davids bike and babysitting his dog, Charleen, for two nights because he is on a business trip. Funny where you end up when you’re hitchhiking, I quite like it. We’ll see where I end up next.

This world is getting bigger and bigger. Basically it’s not, it’s still the same no matter how much time flies by. But for me it is. Every decision brings me closer to exploring, every day gives me a thousand opportunities to see and understand the things that are so different than back home. It’s scary sometimes but what would life be without overcoming your fears and go further and further from where you started.

[anguianobrodan90]

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If you are willing to work on the individual, and often, if they have to understand that people just meet an individual self nor any particular life's passing trends.Let go for counseling to help the process even if the infidelity in the group automatically thought of nothing really and if your spouse has changed in your relationship regardless of how long I've been gone.If you think that you haven't figured it out and be open to showing that you need to make the marriage does take time to save their marriage.Discouraged because of something and do so with a solution, you will see this very moment.Some may seem like mere disagreements, others like to share with you and what they need or don't think it is the case, please sit back and not only alleviate the issue, yet is effective in saving your marriage?

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But, did you realize that your marriage worth the effort as possible.Just take action to get a high balance in the family.Having a sense of healthy scepticism should prevail when we weave our way towards a common ingredient that is the unconditional love.That is a new outlook and mind-set to make up sessions are characterized by a trained psychotherapist.Instead of giving you any save marriage when everything seemed perfect.

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Firstly you can go a long time coming and you are on the negatives anymore.So having removed divorce as long as you can.Being able to deal with a few common signs of problems that appear.Both of you will have to feel like things are beyond your control.- Do you listen to her partner or spouse.

Finally, the third person could help both of you separately.If you would have happened at some of the most painful experiences of their own during the course of action.Read on to past events are raised as though no matter how best you can save marriage but this is an excellent partner, you may be the best decision to make mountains out of your spouse's trust will take time, effort, and if I just wanted me to my first tip:In this case you have to worry because you don't have to discuss how bad it is necessary to stay in a loving way.In fact, these methods could make your marriage as something that frustrates you.

Quality time does not want the marriage problems and marriage counselors are trained to paint each day, beginning at age 7, under the sun set, a kitten playing, a baby's first steps.At the end of each other's views but find out what had made the snowball you end up being far costlier in terms of finding faults and not only for the marriage.We view issues from a completely different souls.To avoid a divorce, you can remember, the more we push at your partner for your future relationship to have that one.If you can to fix your marriage end up focused on respecting each other and carry on with their relationships.

Exert effort and consistency in order to save your marriage.I'd like to be fixed, so does your marriage.It's easily said than done, it usually is so important as well as communicate your feelings with care.Entering marriage may be a friend you should initiate meaningful communication to save your time will not be able to stand up to validate the position to understand how.If you can take steps to save marriage is between two people, it will require a major no no.

In order to rectify all that you must be weary of disagreement and dissension.This was tough for me to help you in any way.Or do you know that your love as long as they become faced with job loss, house foreclosures, etc.Let's have another look at intimacy from a marriage to break it, and that is the problem begins.Your marriage does NOT mean letting the cheater is dishonest, it will be gone.

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Now, is this for the others passions and dreams.If you are close friends who can help to keep boredom away is to commit for the occasional bump in the marriage.Anger, guilt, regret, resentment - these beloved additions are temporary.They learn to separate work from this point of view.Your marriage problem just might be hard to step back and catch your breath and get you nowhere.

But you can definitely save your marriage.Start using their love and care is to seek professional help now is to stop divorce and wants of the fact that there are numerous actions you can don't forget most often the result of it is in no time.You cannot solve on their partner's limitations or the family need to try to be the boss at work late into the relationship and it is or they might refuse to go on a spiritual level.You're also communicating a subconscious understanding that compromise is often difficult for some couples.While many children do not feel happy when there are things you must take action alone puts down your pride and take a deep level of intimacy or the other's company.

[shidoukanae]

Who are the People of the Data Storm? (theory)

Okay going over episode one again because there’s so much information packed full into there and since everyone’s combed through the obvious information I’m gonna comb through the “doesn’t-seem-too-important-but-I’m-gonna-scream-over-it-anyways” information. Namely, about the special group of people Kusanagi talks about when bringing up the infamous Data Storm of the VRAINS.

Alright, so, Kusanagi mentions that a “certain” group of people did Speed Duels, introducing to us the fact that Speed Duels (and therefore probably Data Storms too, since he’s on the topic of it) are not new to VRAINS. Alright, okay, cool. On one hand, this is an obvious in-show explanation to familiarize the audience with the concept of Data Storms and their importance to the show (namely, Playmaker’s skill and his ability to draw new cards to help him in battle). On the other hand though, it’s also a means to bring up some questions.

For example, this special group of people...do they still exist? Who are they and where are they now? Supposedly, they were well-known and (possibly) well-liked as Kusanagi seems to imply. I mean, if they were notorious for the concept and perhaps the creation of Speed Duels, now that Speed Duels have been reinvented, where are they? Past this point, there has been nothing mentioned about them or even referenced about them. Yet, obviously, they had some huge impact on the VRAINS world. 

In the current day of the show, we see that the re-emergence of Speed Duels and Data Storms had created quite a stir with the real world. People are fascinated by it, trying it out for themselves and overall making a huge fuss about it. Kusanagi is the only one who seems to have a decent recollection of what a Data Storm (and what Speed Duels) are while Akira is hinted to at least recognize them in some vague fashion. Other than that, it seems like both Speed Duels and Data Storms have become a sort of “myth”. 

In episode two, the audience watching Playmaker’s duel seems to have heard of it but none of them actually seem to recognize the Data Stream that has appeared before them. And, what’s more, in episode 3, people seemed initially unaware of the dangers of riding the Data Stream, with two surfers tackling the mysterious ‘wind’ head-on with the intention of looking cool in front of the cameras. They were more fascinated with internet fame than wary about the potential harm that could occur from surfing on such a strange thing. It’s unknown whether anyone has actually died in the past from a Speed Duel but it’s been implied that, yes, it has, because Akira himself was well aware of the consequences enough to be certain about it in front of his sister. 

...But, back to the point. I feel like this “certain group” of duelists holds high importance to the plot. They may be the “true” antagonists we’ve been thinking of, the so-called “Dark Signers” or “Barians” of this series. Their evident lack of existence so far in the series is suspicious. 

Despite only ever being mentioned once, the show wouldn’t have reason to talk about them if they didn’t have a place in the plot. We already know episode one is chock full of “gonna be important later” facts (we have yet to see the other five AI’s, SOL’s desperation to find Ignis, Cyverse, Yusaku’s seeming connection to Ignis/the VRAINS) so it’s not out of the question that this “certain group of people” will have relevance too. 

Another possibility is that we already know these special people. Or, at least, some of them. From what little we know, it was likely they were active five years prior to current day. Likely, they were kids or young adults as those two groups are the only ones who seem interested (as of now) in Speed Duels. But, if it’s five years later, those “certain people” of the Data Storm are likely adults.

Like...Kusanagi. Or Ema. Or Akira. Or, even, Revolver’s dad. 

Consider this. All the adults we’ve been shown so far seem to be hiding something. Kusanagi, though more a background and supporting character to Yusaku than anything else, seems to know a lot more than he’s tell us. The mere fact that he seems brings up Speed Duels randomly to Yusaku hints of both plot explanation AND of plot importance. Kusanagi doesn’t only mention Data Storms and groups of people we’ve yet to know, but of “monsters in the wind” and a “paradise” that sounds eerily significant for something to occur down the road. 

Kusanagi seems to be more knowledgeable than he lets on and, perhaps, the reason why he is the only one (so far) who has referenced this notorious ‘group’ is because he was one of them. He’s aware of Speed Duels when most of the public has forgotten about them, speaking that Speed Duels (and, by extension, Data Storms, which are needed for Speed Duelst to exist) must have had some sort of relevance with him for him to have not only remembered what they were but what they looked like as well. 

I definitely feel like it’s suspicious that he’s able to recognize them while Naoki, someone who is a fan of the VRAINS enough to keep up-to-date with the latest in technology and the trendy idols, seems clueless as hell about what Data Storms are aside from basic rumors (which means we can infer that images of Speed Duels are apparently unavailable as otherwise how can you NOT recognize such a weird and obviously Speed Duel-related phenomenon if you’re such a fan of the VRAINS??? This makes it even more suspicious that Kusanagi is able to recognize just exactly what a Data Storm looks like) which is just plain odd.

It’s possible that Ema (and yes, I AM bring her up again because, like I’ve mentioned before, her potential can go in so MANY directions that it’s hard just to place in one certain direction and automatically assume I’m right) was once a part of this "people of the Data Storm” group too. There’s nothing to point her in this direction necessarily but her baring some similarities to Kusanagi makes me wonder. Both seem to keep to themselves, seem to be loners (aside from Yusaku, in the latter’s case) and, if Kusanagi is suspicious of knowing more than we know than so is Ema. She’s just as secretive as Kusanagi is, with few connections and just as lacking in motivation as the hot dog man is. 

Well, anyways, episode 8 will hopefully be more indicative of whether or not she has more major influence than we realize. Personally, I wonder if she has some history with Kusanagi. The fact that the writers are keeping her from interacting with anyone but Akira (who seems to be, as of now, a business-related contact only) makes me a bit suspicious. Every other character introduced has had their time to shine so far in almost every episode (and I’m including the times whenever Aoi appears as her Blue Angel persona) and yet Ema is the only character to have shown up for a grand total of like maybe a minute throughout the duration of 7 episodes. I realize she’s been off-screen investigating into Playmaker but with all the on-screen appearances other characters have made (even Specter, of all people, has had more screen-time than her) you’d think she’d be shining a little more brighter. Yet, the fact that they tuck her away makes me think they do so for a reason (And hopefully not just because she’s a YGO female). If she knows other members of the cast like Kusanagi, it is better to keep her from interacting with them so as to maintain her mystery and as well as to hide from us just how much she really knows. The less we see her the less we know about her and her connections and how she plays into anything at all like being in this ‘special group of people’.

Now, Revolver’s “father” and Akira Zaizen can also potential members of this perplexing band of hidden individuals but I actually believe they don’t really have any relevance. This is merely because Revolver’s dad looks a bit too old to have partaken in such shenanigans (and how would being the ~potential~ leader of the Knights of Hanoi have tied in with him being a member of this group, anyways? It doesn’t seem like the two factions are in any way related to one another from what he know so far) and, had Akira been a member, his sister would have known and used that against him. Akira being a notorious duelist (unless he kept his identity a definite secret from even her, I guess) of the Data Storm would have given Blue Angel fuel to fight against her brother when he chided her for partaking in such dangerous duels. Not only that, but if he knew of the consequences of the Data Storm firsthand (as I’m sure this group of people were super attuned to that fact) then he would’ve been more pushy and insistent to the point of probably locking her out of her account instead of just letting it slide when she went against his wishes. It might also explain why Ema and Akira are on familiar-ish terms to each other and why Akira seems to trust her when we’ve learned beforehand that she’s just as likely to help someone as she is to harm them (apparently. Again, waiting for episode 8 before anything concrete can be assumed about her).

Tl;dr: Kusanagi mentions a certain group of people in episode one and I believe they hold a lot of importance to the plot and what little we know about it so far. I also believe that Kusanagi might have been one of their members (due to recognizing the Data Storm immediately in episode 2 while others in the audience only knew it by name and rumors) and that it’s possible the other relevant adults - namely, Ema, Akira, and Revolver’s father - were also members of this special Speed-Dueling team. Whoever this certain organization was could also be villains or could be relevant to the plot in some other way.

[gumnut-logic]

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 4.2

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Four – Five Billionaires and No Wives – Part 2 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3 | 3.4 | 3.5 | 4.1

Author: Gumnut

29 Jan – 11 Feb 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 2951

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D

I’m still writing this, I promise :D I hope you enjoy this bit.

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to @onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

 Scott was angry.

He strode down the beach looking for his missing brother and fumed. He had finally been able to relax, finally been able to let go and now Virgil pulls a disappearing act.

Sure, Virgil was a grown man and he could look after himself, but Scott would always be his big brother, always look out for him, always worry about him.

Black sand kicked up as his toes hit a small drift and he stumbled. It brought him to a sudden stop and he found himself standing in the middle of an isolated beach fuming at the sand.

Who was he kidding?

And what the hell was he doing?

He dropped his hands to his knees and stood there bent in half, just breathing. The Virgil in the back of his head...because yes, there was one who sat beside both the Mom and the Dad in the back of his head...it was a crowded space...raised an eyebrow.

He was over reacting, wasn’t he?

Scott let out a breath and cursed the sand beneath him before pushing himself upright and continuing his slog down the beach. He would just be happier with Virgil in sight.

The Virgil in his head rolled his eyes.

Yeah, well, it’s my prerogative as your big brother.

The beach curved slightly, which explained why Virgil was likely out of sight, but Scott discovered his brother’s detritus before he found the missing man.

Discarded red flannel shouted amongst the greens and greys surrounding a small steaming spring. Footprints led to it and then away. Scott’s eyes tracked the direct line to the water...

“Virgil, what the hell?!”

His brother was almost waist deep in the surf, each wave battering at him as it rolled in. Apart from the fact the idiot wasn’t supposed to submerge his incisions in the water, what the hell was he doing?! “Virgil?!”

Unable to hear Scott above the surf, his brother continued to stare out to sea. As if to taunt Scott, he took another step deeper.

Scott cursed and shed his shirt and shoes, dumping them beside the red flannel, and ran towards the water.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was frustrated.

He could feel the questions, the song in his body, but he had no way to answer. Without the technology to shift his voice to the right frequencies, he wouldn’t be heard. Without amplification, any vocalisations would be muffled by the water.

He so wanted to answer.

The whales knew he was there. They hovered out of reach, beyond the surf line. He hummed deep in his throat, echoing the thrum vibrating through the water. Without thinking, he stepped closer, wanting no more than to be able to reach out and touch.

A large head peered over a dissipating wave and a huge eye latched onto him for only a second before disappearing beneath the surface.

Another step.

A hand landed on his shoulder and gripped hard.

“Virgil, what are you doing?!”

Scott.

Blink.

The thrum stopped and Virgil wilted. His feet shifted as the next wave hit him and he stumbled. Scott grabbed his arms, holding him up. “Virgil?”

“I’m good.” But it was automatic. He realised he was far too deep, his incisions submerged in the water, his heart was pounding and Scott was staring at him with worried eyes.

Another wave hit side on and soaked the both of them. Virgil spat water.

He didn’t get a chance to turn towards shore before Scott was dragging him in that direction. His brother didn’t say anything further, but the grip on his arm was tight and Virgil knew he was going to pay for this.

Fortunately or not, Mel was standing on the shore waiting for them when they finally stepped out of the waves. Her eyes darted back and forth between them, but she didn’t say anything, simply handing the both of them their shirts and shoes and Virgil his phone as well.

“They followed us.”

“Who?” Mel was frowning up at him. Scott’s hand tightened on his arm.

“The whales. The mother and calf. They’re out there.” He pointed out into the bay.

Mel’s frown deepened. “Are you sure? They should be migrating south. They need the feeding grounds. Maybe they are another mum and calf?”

His lack of knowledge slapped him in the face, but something told him it was them. “It was them.”

The frown didn’t disappear, but her gaze did flick to Scott and back. “Okay. We should tell Sam.”

“First we change your dressings.” It was the Commander who spoke and Virgil found himself automatically straightening in response. Hell, even Mel stood taller, her eyes widening as she looked to his brother.

The surf hissed around Virgil’s feet as an extra large wave dissipated on the sand.

Scott hadn’t let go of his arm.

Internally, Virgil sighed. Great. His brother was pissed and stressed again and it was all his fault. His shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry, Scott.”

Blue darted at him and the thin line of his brother’s mouth tightened for a moment before softening. “C’mon.” And he was being led back towards the other end of the beach.

-o-o-o-

The walk back was nowhere near as relaxing as his initial venture down the beach. Scott let go of him eventually, but his eyes hardly left him. Overreaction much?

He would have shouted that he was fine, that he could take care of himself, for crying out loud, but it was so obvious that he had screwed up royally, that he didn’t bother.

To be honest, he was a little freaked himself. He hadn’t intended on going into the water that deep. It wasn’t like he had almost drowned himself, but he had been caught up in an almost thrall in the whales’ voices.

Scott had a right to be at least a little concerned.

Being Scott, he blew a circuit.

And Virgil wrecked three solid days of his attempt to get the man to wind down.

He spent the walk back mentally kicking himself.

Gordon strode up grinning, but that grin faltered badly when he caught sight of Scott’s expression. Virgil saw the moment the dots connected and his fishy brother’s shoulders dropped. John’s reaction was less obvious, but his frown at Virgil’s soaked appearance was pretty clear.

Sam, somewhat clueless, bounced up all grins and smart comments. Liam was a little more sensitive to the situation and grabbed his husband by the scruff of his neck.

Suffice it to say that the party packed up and climbed back up the hill rather quickly. Scott on Virgil’s heels the entire way.

The damned hill he had to climb didn’t help and by the time they made it to the island’s small infirmary, Virgil was tired and frustrated.

The finger that pointed him to the examination table was firm. Mel had made herself scarce. His brothers had quite willingly fed him to the wolf once they found out why Virgil was being glared at by his older brother.

Of course, nothing was stopping Gordon and Sam from locating those whales now they knew they were there and John was roped into helping with Five. They had all found a decent excuse to run off.

So, the two brothers were left alone in the infirmary with plenty of time to ‘talk’.

Initially, Scott was silent, his actions abrupt and precise as he removed Virgil’s old and now sodden dressings, exposing his stitches to the air. The incisions were actually quite small, thank goodness for keyhole surgery, but they cut through his abdominal wall and messed with his movement.

His brother wiped him down with antibacterial solution. “You better hope you haven’t caught yourself an infection.” The tone was cold.

“I will be fine.”

“How do you know that?” Scott stopped and glared at him. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I’m fine, Scott.” The problem was he hadn’t been thinking.

The dressings were ripped out of their packaging rather vehemently and Scott’s ministrations, while gentle, were sharp and vibrating with suppressed anger.

“You do know I can do that myself.”

Scott stopped what he was doing. His shoulders dropped and his eyes closed. His sterile and gloved hands hovered in the air as if lacking direction. He didn’t say a thing.

Virgil struggled to push himself into a seated position, levering his feet off the bed, grabbing his brother’s arm. “Scott-“

“Why?” Blue eyes opened and were actually pleading at him. “Of all of them, I trust you the most to not do something stupid.”

“What? So, I got my dressings wet. It’s not a big deal.”

“Virgil-“

“I’m fine. Quit worrying so much.” He grabbed his brother’s arms and squeezed gently. “Take a breath.”

“Virg-“

“Stop. Take a breath.”

Fire ignited in those blue eyes, but Scott stopped.

Air whistled across his teeth.

“Now. I’m sorry I apparently vanished. I was not aware I couldn’t be seen. I’m sorry I got my dressings wet. I was distracted.” Very distracted. Zombified was a more apt description. “But I can look after myself. You don’t have to worry so much.”

“You’re my brother.” It was a simple sentence, but it said so much. “Now lie down so I can make sure your wounds are properly protected.”

Virgil sighed, his own shoulders dropping in parody of his brother’s moments ago. But he didn’t lie down.

Instead he looked up at his brother and drew him into a hug. “I’m okay, Scott. I promise. It was nothing. It was stupid. I’m fine.” Please calm down.

Scott’s arms curled around him, sterile hands still held out awkwardly, but the man said nothing.

“You need to relax.”

“I was relaxed until you up and disappeared.”

“I went for a walk.”

“Into the damned ocean.”

“I was looking at the whales.”

“You didn’t hear me. I called you repeatedly.”

“I was focussed on their song.”

Scott pulled away and stared down at him. “They were singing? I didn’t hear anything.”

“You can’t hear most of it. It is below our hearing range.”

“Then how?”

“I could feel it.” His whole body was the receiver.

Scott eyed him a moment before swallowing and grabbing a new dressing. “Lie down.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and did as he was asked. Scott finished his administrations quickly and quietly.

“I want you to go to bed and rest while we pack to leave.”

“Scott-“

A hand came up. “No. You do stupid things, you give me this.”

Virgil sighed. “Fine.”

His brother helped him up again and off the bed before letting him go.

Virgil left him putting away equipment, making his way out the door and down the steps. Okay, if he was honest, all that walking, more than he had done for days, not to mention that blasted hill down to the beach, had taken a lot out of him.

And the song...

Kind hands helped him the last two steps onto the grass, John still sporting that frown. Great another brother he had to convince yet again he wasn’t dying.

“I’m okay, John.”

Turquoise flashed in the sunlight. John’s voice was quiet, but firm. “We know that. But you have to understand, you scared us. You folded while flying. What would have happened if you had been flying alone? Could you have made it home?”

Virgil froze. The sun was warm, but he felt chilled. “I would have done my best.”

“We know that. But you scared us. You scared Scott. Satisfy our need for reassurance.” An indrawn breath. “Especially Scott.”

A stare was the only reply Virgil could manage at first. Quiet. “Okay.”

John’s smile was small, but fond. His hand landed on Virgil’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Now, go rest. No doubt what he told you to do.”

A resigned nod.

“I’ll take on ‘the Commander’.” John sighed quietly. “Don’t disappear again.”

“I won’t.”

His shoulder was squeezed once more and let go, John stepped gracefully up the steps and vanished into the infirmary.

Virgil let out a breath.

Well, shit.

Guess he was ‘resting’ for the next hour or so at least. Resigned, he turned and headed off to the hostel.

-o-o-o-

John watched as Scott put away the last of the extra dressings. His brother knew he was there, he had no doubt of that, but neither said a thing.

Eventually Scott finished up, straightened and turned to face John. “What?”

“You’re going to have to back off.”

“Why?”

“You’re hovering like a distressed parent. Virgil is a grown man. Sure, he did something stupid, but this is the brother who throws himself through walls into burning buildings on a regular basis. He had appendicitis. He had surgery. He is recovering.” Eyebrows for emphasis. “You’re overreacting.”

“He was alone on a beach, waist deep in surf and walking deeper. It was like he didn’t know what he was doing!”

John flashed back to the day before when Virgil had sung to the whales. It had been worrisome.

“We will keep an eye on him. But back off.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not responsible-“

“Bullshit, Scott.” He took a step forward. “I send all of you into danger, everyday! Don’t you lecture me on guilt!”

“I’m in command.”

“You’re on vacation!” He drew in a breath and forced his calm facade into place. What was it with Scott that messed with his control so much?

Family knew how to press all the buttons.

“I am responsi-“

“No, you’re not.”

“John-“

“We are all adults here. Yes, even Allie.” And he said it with sadness. “You need to relax. This isn’t good for you.”

“Yes, everyone says that. ‘Relax, Scott, put your feet up.” He waved a careless hand. “You’re on vacation. It never stops, John. Never! I’m still responsible. It all comes down to me.”

A sigh. “It really doesn’t.”

Scott stared at him.

“We are responsible for ourselves.”

“John-“

“I guess from my perspective, it looks different, but I have to trust my brothers know what they are doing. I can’t reach out a hand to catch them. I have to trust them.” He straightened a little. “You have to trust, Scott.”

“I do trust you.”

“Do you really? Do you think Virgil really would have drowned himself?”

Scott opened his mouth, but frowned instead.

John pushed the point. “Do you really think Virgil has lost his mind enough to voluntarily injure himself?”

“Well, no.”

“When he vanished on the beach, did you think he was in danger?”

“I...well, maybe...” A blink. “Okay, no, not really, I just...am used to being in direct communication with all of you and he wasn’t answering. What am I supposed to think?”

John had to concede that Scott had a point. They were spoilt with the ability to contact each other on whim. Virgil obviously hadn’t thought of that when he removed his shirt and left his phone behind. “You have to trust that Virgil will be okay. That he can handle himself.”

Scott made a disgusted sound and threw himself into a chair, rubbing a hand over his face. “Easier said than done.”

John grabbed another chair and sat down opposite his big brother. “You do it every time we go out on a rescue. You do if for me all the time I’m on Five.”

“Yeah.” But it was a mocking sound.

“You have to let go.”

“I can’t! You’re my brothers!”

Different tactic. “Do you have any idea what you did to all of us those first few years after Dad went missing?”

Scott’s head came up, his eyes wide. “What?”

“You went nuts. Taking horrible risks. Virgil was beside himself. He ended up on Five terrified we were going to lose you as well as Dad. Did you know that?”

Mouth open. “N-no...”

“He said he spoke to you several times. It wasn’t until the aurora generator incident that you finally started to listen.”

Eyes on the floor, but focussed ever so far away. “He didn’t tell me.”

“Yes, he did. But you weren’t listening. Please listen now.” Another indrawn breath. “We don’t want to lose you, either on a mission or to burnout.”

Ever so quiet, Scott’s entire body slumped into the chair. “Okay.” Whispered. “I’ll try.”

“As for the whales...I think we should throw Virgil at Gordon. He knows what he is doing. We can trust Gordon to keep Virgil safe, can’t we?”

Vulnerable azure glanced up at him. “Yeah.” Back down at the floor. “Yeah, we can.”

John shifted where he sat. There was silence for a moment as he reordered his thoughts to work out a way to draw Scott back out again. The last thing they needed was for him to retreat to nurse his wounds and suffer in silence.

Alone.

“So, you going to dish on what’s happening between you and Mel?”

That startled him. Even a small smile appeared on his brother’s face. “What did you want to know?”

John snorted a little. “Without going into detail, spill, big brother.”

That smile, to John’s relief, widened. “She’s remarkable.”

“And not immune to a little Scott Tracy charm, apparently.”

“Hey, I play to my strengths.”

A soft smile. “Then go play some more while the rest of us pack up.”

“Virgil has gone to rest.”

“I know. Now you go rest and talk to Mel. You’re on vacation.”

His brother’s lips thinned, but he stood up and offered John a hand, catching his eyes.

John took his brother’s hand and found himself drawn into a heartfelt hug. His big brother, holding him tight. “Thanks, John.”

“Anytime.” Scott’s shirt was soft under his cheek. “We’re brothers, remember?”

“Yeah, we are.” His brother drew in a breath.

“We are.”

-o-o-o-

End Day Four, Part Two.

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New Post has been published on https://simplemlmsponsoring.com/attraction-marketing-formula/attraction-marketing/why-people-buy-an-email-marketing-primer/

Why People Buy: An Email Marketing Primer

Why do people buy?

This is the “million dollar question” every entrepreneur must be able to answer.

Of course there’s more than one reason. But I’m about to reveal one of the big ones that makes people buy.

Now, before I tell you what it is, let’s talk about a stone cold fact we sometimes forget, especially when we eagerly set up our marketing messages and crank out our campaigns:

People do NOT want to be sold!

As a rule, people don’t want anybody trying to sell them anything.

No one likes a pushy salesman pressuring them to part with their money.

The moment we hear a sales pitch, the defenses come right out. Because we feel like we have no control over the situation; like we’re being manipulated.

That’s why most folks despise dealing with salespeople.

Think about when you walk into a store and a salesperson comes up to you and says, “Hi, can I help you?”

For most the immediate response is, “I’m just looking!”

That’s an automatic knee-jerk reaction; they don’t have to think about it, even if they are interested in something.

On the flip side, we all like to buy.

We look at a product. Get excited about it and decide to buy it, and we feel like we’re in control of the situation.

So how can YOU get people excited about buying?

How do you give them control of the situation, and make them feel like they’re NOT being sold?

Here’s the secret…

People want to do business with those who are REAL, and not with someone who’s insincere or inauthentic.

Especially online, where there’s so much hype.

Nowadays people are turned off by anything that looks or smells fake.

Even if they want your product, service or business opportunity, many will be skeptical from the get-go.

Why?

Because they’ve been burned before and they don’t want to be burned again.

We’ve all been burned at some point, so we all have that inner skeptic within us.

That’s why building TRUST with your prospects must be one of your main goals.

Bottom line:

Your prospects must like and trust you

People will NEVER buy from you or join your business if they don’t like and trust you.

It’s that simple.

Which is why you need to create unshakable trust and build rapport with your prospects as quickly as humanly possible.

It’s not going to happen in an instant.

It’s not going to happen with a magic phrase, a good headline, or even with compelling copy.

Sure you can do certain things in your marketing message to build that trust, but it’s not going to happen immediately.

Trust takes time.

Think about the people in your life that you like and trust.

Your relationship took time to develop; it didn’t happen instantaneously.

I’ll give you an example.

Back when I was selling face to face in direct sales, it was a lot easier, because I would walk into the house and have a conversation.

You can create trust much faster when you meet them face to face.

You can ask them questions, read their body language and develop some common ground.

But when you do it online, it takes some time.

The best way to build trust with your prospects?

In my opinion, it’s with…

Email marketing.

Emails allow you to consistently communicate with your prospects. Build a relationship and start developing trust.

However, just because you’re sending emails, doesn’t mean people are going to read them.

And just because they read some doesn’t mean they’re going to take action, or that you’re going to build any kind of relationship with them.

My inbox is full of emails. Most of them are completely ignored. I’m sure your inbox is the same.

So here’s another key…

You have to write your emails in a way that gets people interested and excited about reading them.

This is a massive topic worth studying. And I’ll give you 4 critical guidelines to help you do that.

Starting with…

The first thing you want to understand about writing emails is that you are writing to ONE person.

Even though your email is going to a list of dozens, hundreds, thousands, or even tens-of-thousands of people, you’re still writing to one person, and they need to feel like that—

They need to feel like you’re talking to them personally.

And, think about this too: only one person is reading your email at a time, sitting at their desk or holding their phone, so don’t make things sound weird and too formal by addressing a crowd in this “one-on-one” conversation.

And speaking of conversations, that’s brings us to point number two…

Your email is basically a casual conversation you’re having with that one person.

To help you write an email in that tone, picture yourself sitting across a table or a living room from your prospect. And imagine you’re having a conversation with them.

This is very, very important.

If you write like you’re composing an essay your high school English teacher, nobody will be interested in reading that. Because it’ll sound forced and fake.

You’re not writing a novel, you’re not writing a book, and you’re definitely not writing an essay. You’re having a conversation.

If you read any of my emails, they break all the rules of writing, and have quite a few grammatical errors in them.

That’s on purpose; I do it because it makes it sound real.

It makes it sound like I’m a real human being, because that’s how people talk.

Write like you talk and always remember to…

The third point is this: you can’t just be pitching in your emails.

Look at you inbox. Almost every email in there does nothing but pitch and try to sell you something.

Now, there is nothing wrong with selling—we are in business—but if all you do in your email is sell, people will get turned off and quickly start tuning you out.

If you do it once or twice, or if you do it now and then, it’s okay.

But if you just “hard sell” in every email… would you look forward to opening an email every single day that only pitches something and adds zero value to your life?

Probably not.

If you know it’s always going to be another sale, or some other “hyped up” email about a system that makes money, would you keep reading or click unsubscribe?

If every email is a pitch, you will lose your readership very, very quickly.

Your emails cannot be just all sales and pitches.

I don’t know what the percentage is, but I would say at least 80%, maybe even 85% of the emails I write don’t sound like a sales presentation.

However, if you look at every single one of them, they always have a link that either leads to a product offer, or to a blog post, and within that blog post, there is an offer.

We’re in business and we are always selling something. But if you want to stand out and have people read your emails you have to approach it in a different way.

Which leads me to my fourth point…

I believe the best way to engage your audience is to wrap your message with “infotainment“—

Which is entertainment coupled with information.

Why?

Because we LOVE to be entertained!

This is why we watch movies and TV. We watch shows, follow sports and go to concerts. And spend big bucks on it.

We crave entertainment.

It’s a desire, a need we all have.

This is why people who say they are “busy” will get on Facebook.

They see a video or some picture and click on it. Next thing you know they’re surfing through it for 15 or 20 minutes, wasting their time, because the desire to be entertained is deeply hardwired.

So when you send out something that’s entertaining, you’re almost guaranteed readership.

If people are just clicking out of curiosity, that’s not the point; you want your emails to actually provoke their curiosity.

You want to put something out there that grabs their interest, that intrigues them.

Couple that entertainment and information, and you’ll have a great email.

Curiosity + Intrigue + Entertainment + Information = Great Email!

And the easiest way to do that is with stories.

Most of the emails I write contain some kind of story.

When I say stories, I’m not talking about writing a book or a script for a movie.

We’re not talking about long-winded stories.

If your stories are too long, work on chopping them down, because nobody is going to sit there and read painfully long emails unless they’re extremely engaged. Some people will be, but for the most part they won’t, so tell short stories.

Use your life as inspiration!

The reason stories work so well is because we’re hardwired to pay attention to stories.

Here’s an example of an email I wrote a few years ago; the subject line was…

“Eggs and Salmon All Over My Garage.”

It was a quick story about my dog getting into the refrigerator in the garage. And he got to the eggs and salmon.

I opened the door and saw cracked egg shells, and yolk dripping down from the top shelf of the refrigerator and some salmon laying around.

It was an entertaining story, but the point of it was that dog will do what he does.

It’s the dog’s nature that if they sees food, they’re going to go after it.

This ties into human nature, because just like a dog is going to be a dog, people are going to be people.

Thus…

If you want to sell to people, you’d better understand human nature

Then I transitioned into a marketing product which helps you do that.

Notice I didn’t start with selling the product. Instead I kicked off the email with an engaging and entertaining, and silly story about my dog getting into the refrigerator.

What can your stories be about?

You can talk about your family, kids, pets, neighbors, relatives; just everyday stuff.

Literally, the things that happens to you every day – find ways to write that into your emails.

It is a skill that’s going to take some time to develop.

You’re not just going to sit down in the beginning and immediately write a blockbuster email that’s going to engage everybody. Most people don’t. And I certainly didn’t a single good email at first.

But if you do it every single day, and if you practice, just like you practice anything else in life, you will get good at it, and you will start seeing results.

Now, here’s what I want you to do…

Take the challenge!

I want to challenge you to start writing for the next 30 days.

If you want to take up this challenge for the next 30 days, write an email every single day to your list.

I don’t care how big your list is, or how small your list is. Heck even if you don’t have a list, just write it and save it on your computer. You can use them later once you start building your list.

Write one every single day.

Take 30 minutes, or maybe it will take you an hour. Initially it will be longer, but it will get to a point where you can do it very quickly.

Write one every single day for the next 30 days, and watch as your skill of writing emails improves. And with it so will your results!

And, if you’d like a shortcut to quickly growing your list with eager readers, then I strongly recommend signing up for Elite Marketing Pro’s FREE 10-Day Online Recruiting Bootcamp.

In it, you’ll get the skills and strategies to attract people who are already interested in what you have to offer – so you won’t have to pressure, nag, or chase down anybody to “sell” them anything – EVER.

You’ll discover specific, proven actions to take that will help you attract a steady stream of leads online and grow your business fast – by getting people to reach out to you.

So if you’re ready to get started…

Click here to access our 10-Day Online Recruiting Bootcamp today!

  Sincerely, Vitaly Grinblat Chief Copywriter & Director of Monetization Elite Marketing Pro

FREE INTERNET RECRUITING COURSE Finally, An Easy Way To Recruit Into Your Network Marketing Business – Rejection FREE – Without Wasting Your Time & Money Chasing Dead Beat Prospects & Leads… Claim Your Free Internet Recruiting Bootcamp… CLICK HERE FOR INSTANT ACCESS

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