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clonefrce99 · 1 year

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Life on its form

Any driver x fem!ooc (only mentioned as she)

WARNINGS: driver dies, there are references to depression (mentions of giving up). HEAVILY ANGST - if you find something else, let me know.

Also there's probably some grammar mistakes here and there.

A/N: it's the saddest thing i've written in a year but I couldn't waste the idea. Hope you enjoy :)

From books to movies, love seems to be this enormous thing that works like missing pieces from a puzzle.

Love is supposed to fulfill the empty spaces.

And is very common to hear people say: “It takes effort, and sometimes it’s tiring. But it’s worth it.”

So, during every single relationship, she tried. She tried her best to make it work – because that’s what it takes, right? To some she was loud, to others she was more of an introverted. Fun but not funny, you know? At one point, to one of her partners, she was just enough. She never got too angry or too sad or too happy.

Her partner loved when their friends talked about her. About how good she was, how they wished their own partners were like that. She never complained when he went out with his buddies, wasn't jealous when he got too close to another woman. She was a good girl. His good girl.

It was tiring. But… love requires that. You need to give to receive. And they were good. They were also enough to her. Even when they got mad, like mad-mad, everything was just fine.

For four whole months, they had planned this trip to enjoy the always so beautiful and fun European summer. When the day arrived, they simply said she should go alone, that they weren't on the mood and would be a terrible company. And, on top of all that, they said:

"You should go alone, make friends. It's gonna be good for you. For us, you know? To be apart."

Great. She thought. That clearly meant the relationship wasn't on its best moment. Ups and downs (even though it was more downs than ups). That’s what relationships are made of. No need to think any deeper.

So was right there, on that small country on the northen coast of the Mediterranean Sea, that she learned that love is actually simple and effortless. It comes, stays and requires nothing.

He taught her that. All he wanted from her was sweet nothing.

What was supposed to be a four week trip, became two months. And then three. Between somewhere here and there, she texted her now ex to let them know she wasn't coming back.

All her friends and family thought she had lost it. Who ends a three years relationship because of some random person they just met? They truly thought she had gone mad (to which she responded: yes! Madly in love!).

Was after a great night where they lived, laughed and loved, that he told her he was a Formula 1 driver. She imediatly wanted to cry. Not because of fear of everything being too much, or because he started to ramble about his plans with his ever so excited smile.

She cried because, for the first time in a long time, she felt safe. It didn't matter what would happen, if he was famous, if she would need to deal with all types of people.

He had her. She had him. Nothing else mattered.

When they had to leave the little world they had created during those months and go back to reality, all they felt was deep and raw love.

And then the months became a year. Then a year and a half. And then two years. And then they were living together. What started with a small space on his drawer, became a full section on his closet.

When routine started to catch up, during times where her work demanded more and so did his, with more and more races being add to the calendar, they decided to create a sort of system. Something silly. Something them.

They downloaded some apps for couples, so when they couldn't be together, they could still do things together. Their favourite was one where they could draw. Also, at the end of each day, they would write down to each other those detailed text messages talking about all things.

He also started to leave notes on the pockets of her clothing before leaving. Sometimes he would write poetry, something to make her laugh, or some sort of reminder of how much he loved her. He also loved to leave things with the notes: small gifts, from jewelry to chocolate.

No matter what happened, she knew it would always have something.

But it’s been three months since his accident. Three months she hadn’t found a note, the drawing app widget is nothing more than a white empty board and there is no more detailed messages.

She hadn’t attended the race that weekend, having too much work to do. They did made plans for going to this fancy restaurant he always wanted to try, though. Such a shame they never made it.

Would be a lie to say she remembers much from the days after the news. Actually, she barely remember the day itself. She knows she was the first to get to the hospital, that she was the one to call the family (both hers and his), and then talk with the team.

Some said they were sorry, some tried to find something to blame trying hard to sooth the situation.

But that was life on its form.

Even if it had someone or something to blame, what difference would make? He wasn’t coming back. She wouldn’t hear his laugh anymore, or his tantrums, or his rambling. She would never see again the way he used to lean against every surface he could, or how bad he was at hiding his emotions.

She would never touch him again.

And grief it’s different to every person. There’s no right or wrong way to feel it – as her therapist said. People feel what they feel when they feel and there's nothing you can do to change that.

She accepted easily, better than she thought she would, at least. She did got depressed on the first days, of course, but she kept on going. Always foward.

For first week of her work vacation, she went to her family house. No one dared to say anything. She was laughing, going out with old friends - what was surprising, considering they were sure she would give up.

But that's something she could never do.

She does have something to live for. The memories of every single moment they had together, good or bad, are worth living for.

Now it's been two days since she came back. The apartment is so quiet she allows herself to wonder why she didn't cried yet. From the balcony, she sees the sun making its way towards the line where the sky mets the sea. In a few minutes, it'll also be gone.

She smiles. Once, her therapist asked her "in one word, and just one, describe your love and why"

She answered that their love was just like the ocean. Not because it's unstable or deep, as some people say. She chose the ocean because it's endless and most likely, it won't ever go away. Now thinking better, she should've had chosen waves instead of ocean: always moving, always coming and going but never dissipating completely.

And that’s what their love is: something that will never just go. Now, some days she feels more, some days she feels less. But it’s there.

With this thought, she decides to change her clothes and do something she's been doing her best to avoid: to wear the last cardigan he bought. It was during that week, it came inside of a beautiful box and he had smiled saying, "i have great plans for this one".

Making her way to the small beach in front of their building, she takes a deep breath and fels that stupid feeling again. The one that puts her on the edge of something that never comes no matter how hard she tries. As if there's something waiting right around the corner.

The sky is now a mix of purple, pink and orange. It's beautiful. The wind becomes cold while she just stands there, feeling the sand wrap her feet. The waves crash, coming and going and then coming again.

It's when a bird flies too close to her that she puts her hands on both pockets. A reflex. Something so normal but that means a lot, specially when she feels one of her hands brush against something.

And there it is. She finally went over the edge, finally saw what is around the corner. Her eyes gets watery, she can feel tears falling down her cheeks and sees the wet dots being created on the sand. She laughs. Suddenly life is less heavy.

Her body almost gives in, but she manages to sit properly. With another deep breath, she sees what he left for her.

Two years ago, during a race week on the US, they managed to scape go to Santa Monica. He insisted on going to the photo booth and she hated every single one of the pictures. He told her to chose one to keep, the others could go.

And he carried that one with him everywhere. Either on his wallet or inside of his helmet.

And now the picture is on her hand, wrapped in a small paper. She's sure it was already there when he gave it to her, and when he kissed her goodbye for the last time.

On his crap handwriting, was written: a memory for you to keep until I come back.

Seing the sun finally disappear and the moon rise on the other side, she reliases she created another memory for her to keep on living for.

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writingroom21 · 27 days

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The Nanny

Pairing: Rafe x Nanny Reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside was dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: Angst, mention of drugs, sexual harassment (some creep tries to force themselves on reader), forced kiss (same creep with the reader), slight comfort?, (please be careful if you have any issues with sexual harassment it doesn't go far but I don't want anyone uncomfortable), (let me know if I missed anything), fighting

Wc: 7.0K

A/N: One more part to go! Sad to see it coming to an end but thank you for all of your support.

Chapter 8: What are we?

You just watch as Rafe leaves. A sinking feeling builds in your chest. It’s like when you’re on a rollercoaster and you get to the really big drop. You always hated that part of the ride, somehow this feeling tops it. Fighting back the tears you walk to your room. Wheezie can wait until the morning, right now you just need to go to bed. You try to calm your breath the whole walk to your room. Scared if you made too much noise someone will hear.

Entering your room you finally let the tears go, finding solace within the four walls. The tears well onto your lashes, falling down in fat drops. Choked sobs echoing inside the silent room.You furiously try to wipe them away, hating how small you feel at this moment. This isn’t what you wanted. Deep down a part of you wanted him to fight for you. Seeing him give up so easily just adds salt to the gaping wound.

You strip from your clothes, throwing on a pair of sleep shorts and stopping when you reach for a shirt Rafe left. A part of your brain is screaming to find another shirt, the other is dying to have at least one last piece of him. Against your better judgment you grab the shirt and put it on. It faintly smells like him, another reminder how you truly thought he cared. The birthday cologne smelt slightly more bitter than it did before. But it was still him.

You turn to your bed, the sage green sheets lay perfectly flat, a bouquet of flowers on top. Walking closer you notice that they are white roses, your favorite. There’s a little note tied on the string that holds them all together. You pick them, opening the card to read it. I’m sorry Sunny. I fucked up but I can’t lose you. Please let’s just talk it out. I miss you. -R

The note makes you sob harder. He knew your favorite flower and he wanted to work things out. If you had just seen this before interrupting maybe things would be different. Maybe he would be he instead of walking away. Why would he remember your favorite flower? You barely even remember when you mentioned it around him.

“What are you doing?” The voice behind you makes you jump. The rose in your hand flies as you grip the scissors tighter. You turn your head to see Rafe leaning back on the kitchen counter. “Jesus Rafe you can’t do that. You scared the crap out of me.” You lean on the kitchen sink, regulating your heartbeat back to normal. He chuckles a little, a small smile spreading on his lips.

“Sorry didn’t mean to scare ya. Just saw you standing there and was curious.” He eyes your ass getting a perfect view from his spot behind you. “I’m cutting the stems of these roses.” “What Rose wants to be in every part of this house now?” He thinks he’s funny but he’s not. “No smartass. They are my favorite flowers, specifically the white ones.” You got back to cutting the stems, picking up flower to flower.

He sits there and watches and you finish the rest of the flowers. “Kinda seems corny doesn’t it? Like every chick likes roses it's never another flower.” Rafe remarks. Teasing you for the choice. “Well I like them because of my grandma. She used to get fresh bach every week and put them around the house. I get them because they remind me of her.” That’s the most you’ve shared about her since she died.

She was kind of the glue that held the family together. She always knew how to make everyone laugh. Always made you feel safe and welcomed. Your parents weren't that bad when you were growing up at first. They loved you so much as a baby, couldn’t have been prouder. Then the older you got the more money they had to spend. The more time they had to put into you and not them. It seemed the older you got the more problems they had. The more pressure they would put on you to be better.

Your grandma did a great job at shielding it from you for as long as she could. The flowers were the thing the two of you shared. Spending time picking out the right ones just to go home and build a bouquet. It was the highlight of your weeks and after she died it was over. You held on to the last bouquet until all the petals were left to nothing. Rotting on your dresser, burning holes into the wood to leave their marks. No bouquet felt the same after but it brought you comfort.

“Remind you?” Rafe questions. “She died when I was eight. I make bouquets to feel connected to her.” He just looks at you as you fill the vase with water, adding the roses one by one. He remembers watching his mom arrange flowers for the house. She would bring him along as she picked out various flowers. Always asking him for his input because he was her special helper. It was their special day activity, Ward would get upset at the sight of Rafe helping out. His mother would go to his defense, nipping Ward’s words in the butt the moment they exit his mouth.

It hurt to remember his mom, the memory causing more heartache than anything. The image of his happy mom crushed when he realizes she’s gone. Left him behind with a man that hates him. In a town where no one will ever care for him. But then he watches you do a simple action that brings her back. It hurts but he can’t help but smile watching you. “I’m sorry. I bet it was hard losing her. They look good, she’d be proud.”

You look him in the eyes, a soft smile gracing your face. Rafe can’t help but to think how beautiful you look. “Thank you. That was very sweet of you Rafe.” You praise. He blushes, straightening up and walking off. “WHatever don’t tell everyone now.” You laugh at him. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The memory makes the feeling worse. He had remembered that conversation this whole time. It had happened early on to you working here, one of the first few meetings with the oldest sibling. You thought he was just being polite because you were new and you just told him something sad. But he still had that information stored away in some filing cabinet in his mind. The fact he still knew makes you want to find him and forgive him. Then you think about the fact he gave up.

You can’t really fault him, he has a right to do what he wants. Yet it still stings that you weren’t enough for him the first time and you weren’t enough for him this time. You place the flowers on the bedside table. Pulling the covers back you climb into bed, curling up into a ball and going yourself to sleep for the second night in a row.

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The sound of voices stir you slowly awake. “Come on, leave her alone.” A hushed voice breaks through the door. “I want to know what happened last night. She never came to tell me.” Wheezie’s hush whispers fully wake you up. “No, let's go.” Sarah’s voice firmly states, footsteps fading down the hall. The room is bright, the curtains are fully open, you must have forgotten to close them last night. The light is harsh on your eyes, they still sting from crying the night before.

Everything keeps replaying in your mind. Memories creating a slow motion picture just for you. They are on a continuous loop as you get ready for the day. Your mind keeps going back to what Wheezie said to you yesterday. Would you be okay if you saw him with someone else? No you wouldn’t, seeing him with Sofia was hard enough. You don’t think you would be able to handle it further.

That realization brings you back to the flowers and the note. He has kept the memory with him since that day. Rafe wanted to make it up with you and showed you that he does care about you. He used the memory to do something that would make you happy, even if he caused you pain. The note made it obvious he wanted to work things out, maybe you should have listened to him. He didn’t actually have any reason to stay loyal to you, no conversation was had for the next step to happen.

Once you are finally dressed you slip on your shoes determined to find Rafe. You look around the hall when you step out, not wanting to run into anyone and change your mind. You make your way to his door and knock. Butterflies fill your abdomen, the nervous feeling eating you from the inside out. “Rafe?” You call out, keeping your voice low. Your right hand opens the door and you are faced with an empty room. The room is still a mess, things littered everywhere, a perfect match to him.

Sighing you close the door again, heading downstairs to get some breakfast. Voices can be heard from the kitchen, they aren’t loud so it’s hard to make anything out. Entering the kitchen you see Rafe talking with Sarah and Barry just sitting at the island. “He shouldn’t be here Rafe. Dad will flip out.” Sarah argues with her brother. “He already doesn’t like me, why should I care?” He huffs out and turns around, pausing when he sees you at the door. Barry and Sarah to look at what caught his attention.

“Well hello baby. Thought I would never see you again.” Barry’s voice rings in your ears but you can only focus on Rafe. “Hi.” You squeak, your voice giving away how nervous you are to see him. His jaw is clench, his hands forming fists as he looks at the man staring you down. “Let’s go Barry. We got shit to do.” He says pushing the other guy's shoulder as he passes him. Rafe gives you a nod as he walks by you and leaves. Barry tsk’s as he gets up making his way out as well. “That boy never learns does he?”

You just stand there, eyes glancing at Sarah. “I’m sorry I didn’t think you would be up right now after last night.” You smile at her and go in further to make food. “It’s fine. He already said he was going to leave me alone from now on. I just didn’t take him seriously.” Boiling water, you get the oats out of the cabinet, oatmeal was the fastest thing you could think of. “Wait what?” Sarah exclaims. Her shocked face staring at the back of your head.

You know she won’t leave you alone for the rest of the day. You have picked up on a few things over this past year. Never interrupt Ward when he is in meetings or talking in general. Rose really does care but the kids will never respect her so she lets them be. Rafe has been hurt for so long that he refuses to be himself now. Even though Sarah and Wheezie are different people they have the same personality trait. They care so much that they don’t know when to call it quits. Granted Sarah is better at keeping it at bay than Wheeze.

Knowing this and knowing how she feels about her brother you give in. You spilled and told her everything. How Wheezie accidentally was the reason why Ward knows what happened. How Ward was yelling at Rafe and how you stepped in. Then told her about the argument between the two of you. Finally leading to him saying he will leave you alone from now on. The whole conversation lasted all of breakfast, the oatmeal you made for the two of you long gone.

“I can’t believe that he just walked away like that. He was the one to mess up, he can't be mad.” She’s saying things you’ve already said to yourself. He did mess up and he shouldn’t be mad. But another part knows that you hurt him too in some way. You shut him out when he wanted to fix things. You ignored him and refused to talk. In the end you did the same thing he did, you didn’t communicate with him how you felt. “It’s not that simple, Sar. He hurt me yeah but I also shut him out. I’m sure that had to hurt him too, I can’t expect him to wait around for me.” You are trying to be reasonable. This is her brother you are talking about, you don’t want to be the reason why they are not on good terms. Things just started to die down between them.

“But it is simple. He messed up by kissing another girl and all you did was get space from him. He decided to just give up without much of a fight.” Her words force you to think back to when he was crying. Pleading with you to give him a second chance, just to hear him out. “He did try. I just didn’t give him the chance and it’s okay. He’s hurt and he needs his space too. I can’t get upset with him for doing the same.” Deep down you know you have a point. He is hurt and needs time which is what you did. It just hurts that when you figured out how you felt it was too late.

“Why are you defending him so much? I get that you liked him but he hurt you.” You are quiet, looking at your bowl. “Do you still like him?” She asks, watching your reactions. When she doesn’t get an answer she realizes it was deeper than what she thought. “Oh.” You both sit there, the weight of your unspoken words heavy in the air. “We never said we were exclusive. It was never something we talked about so he really didn’t do anything wrong. I just can’t hate him.”

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The thrap of the tennis ball takes you out of your daydream. Wheezie had dragged you out to the country club for a round of tennis, stating it would help you feel better. It was sweet of her for caring but the exercise was not welcomed. You would rather be enjoying the day reading then out on the court hitting a ball back and forth. “How many points is that?” She asks, a smile bright on her face. “6-2 I think.” You respond. You bounce the ball a few times before throwing it up and hitting it to her.

The rest of the morning was uneventful after your talk with Sarah. She tried to talk to you more about how you should be upset but it got nowhere. Once Wheezie popped into the kitchen the conversation died and it was over with. You were relieved when Wheezie didn’t mention Rafe at all after. Even happier when all she wanted to do was go out. That soon faded when she said she wanted to play tennis. It was just an excuse to see the cute tennis instructor that just started there.

Everything was going well until you were both leaving. You were stepping off the court when a golf cart blew past you. “Watch it, asshole.” Wheezie yells causing the cart to stop. The boys inside it all turn around and low and behold there’s Rafe with some guy you’ve never seen. “Watch it, Wheeze. Next time you might get run over.” The boy next to him chuckles. “Yeah, stay out of the way.” Rafe shoots him a look and the boy quiets down. “Oh please like you are so scary. Stop driving like a maniac and be normal.”

Rafe looks at you, eyes lingering for a little longer than needed. You smile at him, opening your mouth to greet him. He turns away before the words could escape. The cart drives off again leaving the two of you alone. He was really taking this leaving you alone seriously. You had hoped that he would be able to talk to you or be civil at least. You miss his voice, his smile, you miss him. Standing there you both just watch them drive off, walking to the building to get changed into clothes.

Wheezie wants to comment on how Rafe didn’t say anything to you. Noticing the look on your face as he ignored you. There’s a nagging in the back of her brain to ask you about last night. Her anxiety is getting the best of her, she’s scared that Rafe hates her. She has seen him get really angry and as much as she isn’t afraid of him, she still doesn’t like it. Wheezie doesn’t want to be the reason why her brother is angry at their father or at you.

“What should we watch tonight? I saw 10 Things I Hate about You the other day while scrolling and I’ve been wanting to watch it. What do you think?” You ask the younger girl as you walk the halls to the changing rooms. Wheezie clams up, her anxiety increases a bit more as she tries to think of an excuse. She needs this to go perfectly, nothing can get messed up. “Can we watch it as soon as we get home? My friends and I are having a Netflix watch party tonight.”

“That’s fine. We can get some dinner and then watch it. How does that sound?” You ask while getting your clothes from the locker you put it in. “That’s perfect.” Wheezie wasn’t lying it was perfect. She needed you to be happy and complacent for the time being. She knows that you might be a little angry with her by tomorrow so she wants to butter you up while she has the chance.

You both got changed and packed up the rest of your things. You are trying hard not to think about Rafe but are failing. Would he still want a second chance if you gave it to him? Yes is the first answer that pops into your brain. Then you think about how he’s ignoring you and that changes. He seems to have no problems pretending you don’t exist, maybe he doesn’t actually want you. Maybe the roses and letter was a ploy to get in your bed again. Yeah that was it.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you have Wheezie order some food. Getting into the car you drive to pick it up before going home. The house is quiet, no one seems to be home besides Sarah. “Hey guys.” Sarah shifts her eyes back to the book in her hands. “Hey! We are going to watch a movie. Want to join?” You ask as you make your way to the living room to settle down. “What movie?” “10 Things I Hate about You.” Wheezie answers. “You had me at Heath Ledger let’s go.” Sarah bolts up, the book forgotten as it flies in the air.

The three of you all get comfortable and queue the movie up. You all just sit in silence, eating and enjoying the movie. Once the food is finished , everyone relaxes back. Only really speaking to comment on the movie. “Uh, I wish he would sing for me.” Sarah dreams out loud. You chuckle at her, nudging her thigh with your foot. “Want me to tell John B to serenade you?” Wheezie laughs at your teasing. “Oh my god. I would pay to see that.”

You honestly can’t help but see the irony of watching this movie. Boy pretends to be into the girl only for her to find out it was all a lie. She tries to hate him but can never seem to, only to find each other in the end. But this isn’t a movie. Clearly Rafe is content with having you out of his life. There won’t be some big confession that absolves him of all his mistakes. He’s too proud to let anyone see how he feels. Maybe this wasn’t the best choice of movie.

Some masochistic part of you wants to feel the pain of watching something that will never happen. To soak in that feeling just to spite yourself. If the girls weren’t here you would probably be crying right now. Mourning the what if’s that plague your mind. It isn’t fair to do this to yourself and you know that. You just can’t seem to help yourself from finding comfort in your own pain. So used to the feeling that anything else seems foreign.

The rest of the movie plays out. Patrick and Kat just made up and are now kissing. Every muscle in your body feels heavy. The weight of the situation pulls you down further into the couch cushions. The credits start to roll and the girls are stretching. “Okay I’m going to my room now.” Wheezie gets up to leave. “Already? It’s still early.” Sarah questions. “Yeah I’m doing a watch party with some friends.” Wheezie shrugs trying to walk fast out the room. Sarah squints her eyes at her younger sister and watches as she leaves.

“Doesn’t she usually stick to you like glue until she goes to bed?” Sarah asks you. She finds it weird that she randomly watches parties with friends. She looks at you when you don’t answer. You were still stuck in your head that it took you a while to process what happened and Sarah’s words. “Um yeah sometimes. It’s good that she’s hanging out with friends. I’m not always going to be her nanny.” That’s when it hit you, this job isn’t forever. There’s no reason for any of them to stay in contact with you after Wheezie gets old enough. The girls would most likely stay in touch you know that. But you won’t be forced around Rafe anymore, maybe that’s a good thing.

“What are you even talking about?” She laughs. “You will always be a part of this family. At least you will be with Wheeze and I. You can’t get rid of us that easily.” She smiles at you. It makes you feel better having that reassurance. Even in the end you will still have them. “I think I’m going to go to my room and read. If you want to hang out or need me just come in.” You tell her. There’s a book on your night stand that you want to finish.

You must have been reading for an hour or two when Sarah bursted into your bedroom. “Is Wheezie in here with you?” She asks. You look up from the book, your face scrunching in confusion. “No, why?” Her face seems worried which only intensifies when she realizes Wheezie isn’t here either. “She’s not in her room and I can’t find her around the house. I wanted my sweater back and she was just gone.” Worry starts to gnaw at you. She has to be here somewhere, she couldn’t have just disappeared.

“Hold on. She has to be here somewhere. I’m just going to call her.” You place your book down and grab your phone. You dial her number and it rings. Sarah just stares waiting to see what happens. She didn’t answer. “Nothing.” You say. Sarah sighs not knowing what to do. “Let me track her phone.” Sarah gives you a bewildered look. “You track us?” She practically yells. “No. Your dad put it on Wheezie’s phone and I just have access to it. I never use it but this is kinda important.”

The app shows Wheezie at a house not too far from Tanny Hill. “She’s at a house. It’s close to here.” You get up putting your shoes on and grabbing your keys. “I think she’s at Trevor’s party. The one she was talking about yesterday.” Crap. Of course, that’s why she had a watch party. She just wanted me to leave her alone so she could sneak off.

The car ride to the party was tense. You were so upset and worried. She went behind your back and put herself at risk to go to this party. No one knew where she was and something could have happened to her. Oh god what if something did happen? She is still young and people like to take advantage of that. This situation is setting panic alarms in your mind. You just hope Ward doesn’t find out because the Rafe situation can be forgiven. Letting his teen daughter go to a party and get drunk might be his last straw.

Loud music is blasting as you pull into the street. There are people everywhere and the feeling of dread increases. It’s going to take forever to find her here. Not only that, you know Rafe is around. There’s no way that he would miss the opportunity to sell and take drugs. Walking into the house was a hassle, people kept blocking the way. Drinks are being spilled on you, soaking your shoes in the process. This is the one thing you hate about parties, they are always a mess. People get too drunk and throw up everywhere. Others start fights or spend the night taking copious amounts of drugs. You don’t judge them, it's just not something you enjoy.

“We should split up. I’ll call you if I find her.” Sarah yells over the music. “Sounds good.” You head towards the stairs to check up stairs. The stairs are littered with cups making the floors sticky. Most of the doors are closed so you have to open each one. You found a couple in one room, the rest being empty or locked. Laughter fills your ears from the other end of the hall. Walking over you see a group of guys all sitting around.

Looking closer you can see that they are doing line and in the middle of all of them was Rafe. Barry was sitting next to him chatting up a customer trying to upsell. A girl enters your view and you watch as she walks over to Rafe. She leans down and whispers in her ear and rests her hand on his shoulder. You watch as he smiles up at her, shaking a little bag in her face. He turns to make a line for her on the table and he catches your eyes.

He freezes, the card in his hand stalling. He picks up his actions when the girl whispers to him again. She makes her way onto his lap and that’s when you look away. Heading back down the stairs, missing how he pushed her off his lap and shot up. How he looked for you but you were already gone.

You keep looking around the house. Stopping into every room to check them. The next thirty minutes were spent searching the house. You kept coming up short which was freaking you out even more. You look at the app again and can see that she is still in the house. She’s here somewhere but you just can’t seem to figure out where. Your phone starts to ring in your pocket. “Hello?” You answer

“I found her. I’m bringing her to the car so we can leave.” Sarah tells you. Relief floods through your system. “Okay I’ll meet the two of you there.” She hangs up. Knowing that Wheezie is safe now you are ready to leave. You walk through the living room, eyes trained on the front door next to the kitchen. A body blocks you as you get right outside the living room. “Hey.” Some random guy says.

“Uh hey?” You say wearily. You are a little weirded out. You have never seen this guy before and he keeps blocking you as you try to get around him. “You’re that nanny for Rafe’s little sister right?” He asks. “Yeah.” He nods at you. His hands are in his pockets, he looks a little awkward like this. He takes a step closer to you, your body backing up closer to the wall. “Sorry for what he did to you. Think he’s kinda stupid for letting a girl like you go.” He says.

As if his words would make you feel better about what happened. “Thanks. I have to go now.” You try to step around him again and his arm lands on the wall, blocking you. This is starting to get more uncomfortable by the minute. “Hey I’m just trying to talk to you. I think you’re really pretty. We can just have some fun.” He tries to ration with you. “I’m good, I really just want to go. I have to get back to Wheezie.” You try to push him off you but he just gets a little closer.

His breath fans against your neck as you squirm away from him. One of his hands grabs your bicep, keeping you still. “Come one don’t be like that. I just want to get to know you. I think we could really like each other.” His body is now pressed up to you. You can feel how hard he is through his pants. It's disgusting. Your hand raises to his chest trying to push him off. It only makes it worse, in lips kissing your neck.

From the kitchen Rafe has been watching the whole interaction. Watching as he hit on you and how you stood there. He watches as his hands are touching you, his lips kissing the same skin his own lips touched. He was angry. Angry at himself for fucking this up, angry at his dad for being the reason he’s like this, mostly mad at you for moving on right in front of him. He was just filled with anger.

It didn’t help that he was so high and coked out that the feeling was ten fold. He had spent all day yesterday and today taking bump after bump. Smoking the day away and drinking. There’s so much in his system that he’s surprised he’s even standing. No matter how much he takes you are always still there. There in his home, at the country club and now here. He can handle seeing you, not really but he could manage. But he can’t stand there and watch as you are with someone else. His breaking point is when the guy kisses you.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing. One moment he was just watching you, hating his life. Now he’s marching over to drag you out of here and yell at you. You can’t just rub it in his face how little he means to you. He was about to call you out when he heard you speak. “Get off of me.” It’s like a switch flipped. He is now paying attention to your body language. Rafe sees her hands trying to push his chest. How the guy keeps grabbing them to bring them down to his pants. “Just shut up and stay still.”

That was Rafe’s breaking point. He grabs the guy from the back of his shirt, throwing him to the ground. You watch in horror as the guy hits the floor in a hard thump. Rafe’s fist meets the guy's face in an instant. You stand there as his body holds the guy down and he keeps hitting him. Everyone is yelling in horror, telling Rafe to stop. “What is wrong with you? She told you to get off her.” Rafe yells.

His voice snaps you out of it. The guy is trying to block Rafe’s hits but he can’t do much in his position. Rafe has him trapped on the floor. “Rafe stop, let him go.” You yell. You really don’t want to be the reason that he got into a fight. It’s bad enough that his dad yelled at him over you.

Topper and Kelce run over, dragging Rafe off of the poor guy. “Fucking touch her again and I swear I’ll kill you. I won’t hesitate if I see you near her again.” Rafe screams as his friends drag him away. You look at the guy on the floor, he just lays there as people try to check on him. “God he’s such a psycho. Who just attacks a random guy.” Someone says as they pull out their phone to call the cops. “Maybe he shouldn’t be such a creep forcing himself onto people.” You say without thinking. Heads turn to look at you in confusion. Some people connect the dots as to what happened. “DId he try to..” You walk away before people can ask questions.

You find Rafe outside, pacing in circles as he yells at his friends. “Why would you pull me off? FUcking asshole deserved it. He’s lucking I didn’t fucking kill him.” The boys just look at him with worried looks. “You can’t just say you are going to kill people Rafe.” Topper tries to reason but it falls on deaf ears. “Nah I mean it. He was going to hurt her and I wanted to kill him. I would do it to anyone who even thinks about touching her.” The boys don’t know what to say. Rafe is like a ticking bomb when he’s like this.

“Rafe.” Your voice calms him, he turns to you. “Are you okay?” He rushes to you. Examining you to make sure that creep didn’t harm you in any way. “I’m fine. Thank you.” You don’t know what else to say. He helped you out back there and you are grateful. “I swear if he hurt you I’m going back in there and killing him. DOn’t care if they arrest me.” He’s being irrational. “Hey, just calm down. Everything is fine now. You made it okay.” He pauses, your words sinking in. He made it okay.

He was the one who helped you, the one that saved you. He reaches out to you, caressing your check. Relishing the feeling of you leaning into his touch. “You should go home.” He whispers. Your eyes open and meet his. Their red and his pupils are dilated. “Come with me.” He looks at you, debating if it’s a good idea. “I can’t. I said I would leave you alone, so I can’t.” He takes his hand off your face, about to back away from you but you stopped him.

“I want you to come with me, please. You can’t drive like this.” He gave in, no fighting was needed. You want him and that’s all he needs to know. He steps closer, walking side by side to your car. He sees Wheezie and Sarah in it. “What are they doing here?” He asks you. “Wheeze snuck off to the party. We came to get her and when I was leaving well.” You look back at the house and at him. “Well you know.”

He nods at you, not saying another word as you get into the car and drive off. The car ride was filled with you and Sarah lecturing Wheezie on how dangerous this was. That if something happened to her and no one knew where she was it could end badly. Rafe tenses at this thought. He was so coked out he didn’t realize his own sister was at the party. You were right she could have been hurt. Look at what happened to you, the same could have happened to Wheezie.

He’s on autopilot as he walks into the house and up the stairs. Your conversation plays in the background in his mind. He enters his room shutting the door but not noticing how it doesn’t click shut until a moment later. “Are you okay?” Rafe turns to see you in front of the door. “Yeah, I just want to get to bed.” What he really wants is to take another line and sleep the thoughts away.

“I just wanted to say thank you again for helping me today.” You shift your eyes from him. “No problem. Didn’t want you to get hurt.” He sits on the edge of his bed, folding his hands and looking at them. “That’s all? I got the flowers you gave me.” you take a step closer, wanting to be near him. You want to fix this, tonight made you realize he does care.

“Oh yeah. You can just forget about them. Don’t know why I even got them in the first place.” Your smile fades, the small flame of hope flickers out. “So that note was for nothing?” He doesn’t say anything. Guess you finally got your answer, it's over. “Don’t know why I even tried talking to you. You don’t care.” You go to leave the room. “Don’t leave.” He calls out.

Your hand is still on the door knob, one twist and you’ll be free. “Why? There’s nothing to stay for.” You hear him grunt, the bed squeaking under him. “Do you think I want to be like this? I can’t stand myself. I’m a fuck up, everyone knows it. For fucks sake my own father hates me.” He gets up, adrenaline coursing through him.

“I wish I could be normal. That I was enough of a man to be worthy of anything. I’m just a failure at everything so no point in pulling you down with me.” His eyes are collecting tears. His breath came in short bursts. “That’s the drugs talking. You are normal Rafe.” He scoffs at you. “No, the drugs just make it easier to swallow that pill.” He laughs out.

“I know what everyone says about me, I’m not stupid. Ever since my mom died I was some monster. No one wanted to be around me and I just kept acting up. I know I’m not worth anything, then there you were. My own personal sunshine. For a second I was able to forget who I was. I was someone else and didn't have to worry about the rumors that go around. Guess I forgot I don’t deserve good things.”

He’s laughing but you can hear the hurt in his voice. Tears fill your eyes at the thought of him feeling so worthless. “You do deserve good things.” “Look at what that got us. I fucked it up and you don’t even want me around. I get it, don't get me wrong but it sucks. I didn’t think you meant anything, the little voice in my head saying I was a fool for wanting to be with you. I let it get to me and now whatever we were is gone.”

A tear falls down his cheek. “I lost the last good thing that ever happened to me. You know you’re the only person that cared about me. It’s funny not even my own family likes me but you did. You were a breath of fresh air, the sunny day after a storm. I finally had you and I couldn’t even keep that. So no, I don't deserve good things.” His voice raises. A hollow feeling in his chest, he wishes it was a blackhole ready to swallow him up.

“Is that why you call me Sunny?” The nickname starts to make sense to you now. “Yeah, you’re this bright light that took everything away.” He sits down on the bed again, looking at the sun necklace laying on his table. He picks it up, playing with the gem between his fingers. “My Sunny. So beautiful it hurts. I’m sorry I’m such a fuck up. Wish I was different, maybe then we would actually be together.”

Your breath hitches, was this just the drugs? He did say that it just made it easier to handle how he feels. “I don’t want you to be different.” You stroll over to him, stepping between his legs. You grab his head in your hands so he can look you in the face. “I just wanted you to be you. I like who Rafe Cameron is. Why would I want you to be anyone different?” His eyes are shiny, glossed over with the tears that keep falling.

“It doesn’t matter now right? It’s too late.” His hand wraps around your wrist. “We can talk about this tomorrow. You should get some sleep, we’ll talk when you have a clearer mind.” You go to leave the room but he stops you. “Stay. Don’t leave me.” His eyes are pleading with you. “Okay.”

You take off your shoes as he gets up. He hands you a change of clothes and he strips from his, laying in his bed waiting for you. You don’t know whether to change here or go into his bathroom. His eyes are are staring at you and you decide fuck it. He divulged how he felt, you can give in for at least this. You change into the shirt he gave you, leaving the pants to the side and get into bed. His fist still holds the necklace, you take his hand. The piece of jewelry moving to you.

You look at it, mixed emotions fill you. The happiness when you first got it, how you thought it was a step further in the relationship. The sadness of when you found him at the bonfire. The confusion you feel at this moment. You forgive him. You want to get past this and it seems like he does too. There’s still this fear in the back of your mind.

He traces your facial features with a light touch, scooting closer to your body. You are both on your sides facing each other. His eyes are drooping, sleep knocking on his door. Slowly fading his consciousness as he fights it off to have one more minute with you. “I think I’ll always be in love with you.” His words are softly whispered between you two.

Your mind short circuits. He said he was in love with you. There’s no way he actually said that. His hand lays motionless on your side, the sandman claiming him as his next victim. You look at him and then the necklace once again. Shifting slightly as to not wake him, you put the necklace back on. You move closer to him, touching his jaw. Letting sleep take you with it. “I’ll always be in love with you too.”

#rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe obx #obx #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe x nannyreader

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sunnitheapollokid · 28 days

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🏎️ ˖*°࿐ CP 2, indirect grease-kisses.

🎤 mc’s notes : ANDDD we are back!!! may have to update this just every once a week, because LORD y’all know i can’t keep up LMAAAOOO but anyway. I MADE THIS ONE EXTRA LONG,, but i’m definitely gonna add more leo moments i swear. THIS WAS TO ADD TO THE PLOT!! so much love on racer au thank you so much you guys!! 🥹 see you next time, sunkisses! 💝

🏎️ ˖*°࿐

THERE WAS no way in hell leo was going to let (name) win this tour. why? oh, let me list them all out for ya’ yeah?

first of, she’s a girl. leo has a big ego. we been knew. second, he needed to get back on his streak. a familiar tap on his shoulder made him snap back into reality, his curls falling into the frames of his face as he locked eyes with percy's green ones. percy furrowed his brows and scrunched his face at leo's distraught expression.

"dude, what is up with you?" percy laughed lightly mid-sentence, keeping his hand on leo's shoulder. leo sighed heavily, finally looking away from the son of poseidon and ran his fingers through his hair. "nothin's up with me." leo shot, a little more harshly then he intended to.

percy only rolled his eyes, patting his back with his palm before going to find his own girl to worry about.

today was (name)'s and leo's second race together. the thought of leo getting beaten to her lingered longer than it should've in his head. it made him fidgety, agitated. the adhd in him was kicking in like 100 miles per hour.

he knew he needed to win. no matter what it possibly took.

🏎️ ˖*°࿐

UNLIKE LEO, (name) only cared about having a fun time on the track. the loved the people she could share it with, the people that got the time to watch her actually race. she beamed brightly amongst the crowd of paparazzi and fans as she gripped the pen in her hand to sign autographs.

she made her way to the track, wiping the dirt off her car. she wiped bead of sweat off her forehead before fixing her hair in the mirror.

"(nickname)." she jumped. "annie!" (name) snorted, the twinkling smile practically never leaving the corners of her lips. "what in the horror movie??" she asked the girl, who had her hands on her hips. annabeth shot her a glare, "what in olympus' name did you do to leo valdez?!" she whisper-yelled. (name) gave out a puzzled expression. "leo? nothing, why would you ask a question?" the name that she'd said, slipping out of her lips like honey, like it was sweet and tangible to say.

and annabeth could tell.

"don't play games with me little miss sunshine. they guy's been dazing the whole time we got to la." annabeth whispered louder, she looked concerned. (name) grew worried, the churning of her stomach becoming nostalgic to her when leo had first gotten to camp half-blood.

she raised her hands in defense, "i'm telling the truth!" annabeth let out a grumble before their conversation was cut off by an announcement by the mc. when the static-spoken voice was done, annabeth turned to (name) again. "talk to him."

(name) now mirrored her scrunched up brows. "annie, you know i can't do that. i stumble over my fucking words like i had them for breakfast- and then realizing i had food poisoning." annabeth was a little confused at the metaphor, choosing to ignore it.

"i don't even know why you do. the guy's smitten for you." annabeth toned her voice lower. (name) rolled her eyes, annabeth had always told her leo reciprocated the same feelings she'd have for him ever since day one. realizing that (name) wouldn't give in so easily, she made a deal. (name) was one for deals. competition. the chase. the race?

the light blue racer pulled her into a darker corner of the track, away from paparazzi and fans. "want to bet?" (name) cocked a brow, her arms tucked away in annabeth's grasp. but she grew intruiged, "what's the bet?" annabeth gave a mischievous smile, "talk to him. if he's not into you, you get to do races outside of camp half-blood franchise. isn't that what you've always wanted?"

(name) eyes twinkled. "and if he is?" she tilted her head. annabeth gave her a dead-panned expression. "seriously (nickname)? then you get leo!"

oh. she knew that. duh.

🏎️ ˖*°࿐

LEO STAYED back in the boys' lounge for a bit before the race. he needed to recollect his thoughts. he drank the bitter drink in his hand, non-alcoholic, but he hoped that it'd help his mind from spinning around her.

there was a surprising knock on the door. he quickly picked himself up, his shoes knocking on the floor as he twisted the door open, "(name)?" he greeted, more of a question than a friendly gesture. she tugged her lips into a grin. "hey lee. you busy?" she moved her feet to walk inside.

the boys lounge looked like any boy-occupied space. there were car magazines and glass cups, as well as extra pillows for extra big naps. numerous black couches in the middle of the room, of course, the giant window that overlooked the track. she could see her car beside his.

"everything okay? something with your car?" leo tucked his hands in his pockets as he leaned on the door with his back. (name)'s heart practically paced. yet, so was leo's. but he was better at hiding it. "my car? no, no." she shook her head as she sat down on the leather chair. leo's eyebrows raised, sitting beside her in his usual spot.

"so.. then, what brings you in here? to gloat? maybe admire me?" he gave a subtle wink, but (name) was too preoccupied by the glass beside him. "what's that?" she pointed, completely dodging the question. the perked up curiosity made him chuckle. he handed it to her, "you can try it if you want."

she held the half-full cup, she swirled it, it looked just like regular apple juice. but she beg to differ. she took a whiff of the drink. it smelled, sharp. she gave out a dissatisfied look that brunette chuckled louder at. "what's wrong? can't take to drink?"

(name) could practically melt at his voice. "aren't you like.. sixteen? why are you drinking?" she still laced her fingers on the fragile cup. "it's non-alcoholic, luz solar." she figured. then taking a sip out of it like it was natural. it was definitely bitter. but it didn't taste anywhere near alcoholic.

but, metallic. it tasted like the scent of metals and grease. could it be?

🏎️ ˖*°࿐ end of cp 2.

#— sunni adores leo (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡#leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez fic #leo valdez pjo #leo valdez fanfic #pjo fanfic #pjo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

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hopelesslyromanticgay · 1 year

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An Americano Please PT. 6

Words: 1400

Y/N's POV:

Not gonna lie, I'm kind of nervous to meet Jenna's friends. What if I fuck up? What if I'm accidentally a little rude? Or what if they all around don't like me?

God I sound like a teenager meeting their partner's parents for the first time.

I really enjoy spending time with Jenna, though, and I don't want her friends not liking me to mess that up.

My phone pings with a text from Nessa.

Nessa😝

Girl, pull your shit together and get your

ass into that pizza shop. No I'm not stalking

you, I just know you well enough by now.

OK fine.

I timidly step into the store, the warm scent of baking pizza wafting around me.

"Y/N, over here!" I can hear Jenna exclaim, waving me over to her table. She's sitting with a few other people.

"These are my castmates, Emma, Joy, Georgie, and Hunter. Castmates, this is Y/N," Jenna excitedly introduces us.

"Hi, nice to meet you guys," I smile, waving stupidly.

"Nice to meet you too," Joy says kindly, "Jenna's told us to much about you."

I can see Jenna hide her face from me a little.

"Oh really, what's she said?" I ask innocently.

"Just how pretty, funny and kind-" Emma starts.

"Hey, have you guys seen that new baking show with the engineers?" Jenna interrupts. Darn it, I really wanted to know where Emma was going with that.

"No, none of us have the time to do that," Georgie laughs, "I'm surprised you do, honestly."

"No I watched it before we got here," she says quickly.

"So," Hunter starts, immediately way better at changing the subject, "What are some cool sites around Romania I should check out. I have a lot more free time on my hands with this show because I don't have to learn new hobbies, so I wanna get to know the area."

"Oh, well Jenna can tell you I'm an amazing tour guide," I start, "You have got to go to Bran castle, after all, it's said to be the home of Dracula. In reality, it was just a castle that Vlad Dracul once went to, but Bran Castle is the place Bram Stoker based Dracula's castle off of. So that makes it pretty cool."

"That's so cool, I'll have to take Naomi with me," he grins, "thanks for the recommendation."

"Oh yeah, perfect for her because you know, who she plays," Emma winks, "Sorry, we can't share a lot of details with cast outsiders," she says sadly.

"We'd love to share more, but we're under legal agreements," Joy adds.

"I totally get it," I say, feeling the slightest bit left out, but otherwise enjoying myself.

"Hey, so what's the deal with queer acceptance around here?" Hunter asks quietly, "because I want to propose to my boyfriend when he comes to visit in a few months but I don't know how publicly I can do that."

"Oh my god you're gonna propose?!" everyone at the table shrieks, all congratulating him individually.

"I'd like to, but I just need to know from a local," he says, looking to me.

"So, people do have the right to discriminate against you for being queer, and you certainly can't do the actual wedding here, but most people in Busteni aren't that homophobic. And I'm a queer person, so I'd say I'm a pretty good source," I tell him, "I'd say the worst outcome is if it's in front of tourists, because you never know what they'll do."

"Thank you so much," he tells me, "you're awesome."

"Glad I can help," I say happily. So at least one of her friends likes me.

"So, Y/N, how long have you lived in Romania?" Joy asks.

"About three years now," I answer truthfully.

"Wow, so you came at sixteen?"

"Yeah," I say, eager to change the subject, "so how are you guys liking Romania so far?"

"People can definitely tell we're not from here," Emma giggles, "I mean, not speaking Romanian is a dead giveaway."

"Yeah, we're pretty good at being able to tell just from the language you speak," I laugh, "I only get away with it because I grew up speaking it."

"Woah, so you grew up bilingual?" Emma questions.

"Yeah, my mom grew up in Romania and my dad went to college here, so they both would speak it with me when I was a kid," I explain.

"Oh that's cool."

The rest of the night goes pretty similarly, all of us getting to know one another. I learn that Jenna used to autopsy little animals like the true Wednesday she is, which I found hilarious. I learned that Emma had to go to a werewolf bootcamp to get better at stunts. They were all such interesting people.

By the end of the night I think they actually might not hate me! Success.

"Hey, Y/N, can I walk you home?" Jenna asks.

"Sure," I smile. The rest of the group exchange looks, and file out of the pizza shop.

"I think my friends like you," she tells me as we get up from out seats.

"You do?" I say, surprised.

"Yeah, they wouldn't have talked to you as much as they did if they didn't."

"Well in any case, I'm glad they're okay with me," I laugh.

"Yeah, me too," she smiles brightly, wrapping an arm around my waist and leaning her head on the side of my arm as we walk down the street. It's fully dark out, and the only thing lighting the street up are the old gas powered street lamps. Oh my god I hope she can't see my blush. She's so adorable.

"I was so worried they were gonna hate me," I confess after a few minutes of silence.

"Why would they do that?" she asks, "you're a lovely person." Hearing her say that melts my heart. She thinks I'm a lovely person!

"I'm glad you think that, but I don't think everyone shares that opinion."

"Well they're stupid, but in any case, thank you for coming to dinner with me tonight. My friends really wanted to meet you."

"Yeah, I bet it's because you told them how pretty funny and kind I was," I tease her. I can just barely see the blush on her face under the soft glow of the street lamps.

"I can't believe she told you I said that," she shakes her head.

"Oh so you did say it," I inquire.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't," she confesses. Wow, I can't believe she really thinks all that about me.

"Well what else did you tell them?"

"You know, the usual stuff."

"Such as?"

"W-well you know, the things you tell your friends when you like someone," she starts, "like what we say to each other, or the jokes we have. Or what we do when we hang out. You know, that stuff." Oh my god, she likes me. Like, likes me likes me,

"So you like me?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Of course I like you!" she all but shouts, "your sense of humor is amazing, you're beautiful, you don't judge me for anything I say or do, and you always want to hear what I have to say." Well what do I even say to that? Saying I like you too feels cheesy and like something a child would say.

We've come to a stop now, right outside my apartment. We're only inches apart, her beautiful brown eyes glistening in the light.

"Please say something, Y/N," she says quietly.

"Can I kiss you?" I ask softly. She exhales in relief before nodding intently.

I cup her cheek, bringing our lips together. It feels like fireworks are going off with my stomach. She wraps her arms around my waist. I never realized kissing someone could feel this right. I can taste the tropical chapstick on her soft lips, and smell her subtle perfume.

What feels like both an eternity or also less than a second later, we pull away, both smiling.

"So I'll see ya for coffee tomorrow?" she asks.

"You can count on it," I smile. She pulls me into an embrace, burying her head in my shoulder. We stay like that peacefully for a minute, swaying in the wind.

"I have an early start tomorrow, so I should get home now," she tells me.

"Aww okay. I understand. Well, good night gorgeous," I quickly lean down to kiss her again. Her smile widens.

"Good night, Y/N/N," she blows me a kiss before walking off.

Wow. What a night.

A/N: I know Y/N is supposed to be mostly customizable, but I swear the thing with the parents WILL make sense later! love u guys, hope you enjoyed the chapter:)

Random Notes:

- I'm not making up that the lipstick jenna used on the set of Wednesday was in fact made from tropical fruit.

- Eidolon is actually a real pizza place in Busteni.

- I spent HOURS on the tour chapter learning about places in Busteni. Finding the places on SnapMap, reading their reviews, and cross referencing the information. I also spent a while learning about Romanian geography. Romanians, I'm so sorry if I'm not doing your country the justice it deserves.

- A lot of the laws around queer people in Romania are less than progressive, but being queer in itself is legal.

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slightly-warmer-hibiscus-tea · 1 month

Text

CW: OC talk + Rambling / Blood / Gore / Censored Nudity (character sheet) / Mentions of Drugging

(idk why these warnings are so intense, but I swear it's all just silly OC talk T^T)

I’m kinda sorta working on more (comprehensible) TS OC stuff in between studying right now… I wanna hurry and talk about them but without info dumping (if given the opportunity I will without hesitation 😔…) because in terms of the best stories I have conjured up for OCs in general Naudedel and Noble are surprisingly good and I’m very excited to share how deranged they are together…

Right now it’s just about making Naudy readable and working on extra fun stuff… like monsters!

I’m trying to work out his “monster” form…. The concept is there, but the execution is just not ticking the right boxes for me right now… also, the line art at the end is old and probably will go unused, but thought it was something to add here because like hehe look at my deranged son :)

When it comes to the writing I'm going to split it into two chapters. The first half will be a summary+ of his upbringing, and the second on how he fucked up his arm and why. Just enough info to get a read on what his deal is pretty much. I just need to edit the first chapter and rewrite some parts then it's ready to annoy the world!

I'm trying to think of a good design for his original mother... I'm thinking dark hair and milf (¬‿¬)･ﾟ✧ ... honestly I need to start drawing out the designs for all the other TS OCs I've accumulated over the year (?) here's a fun list-

Hickery (bloodhound OC... dilf oc...I've already been made fun of for his name, but it stuck to me so I'm keeping it!)

Maya (another bloodhound OC)

Cove (Hound's ex-husband)

Cetcher's gf + informant, who still needs a good name...

and that one guy! (doesn't have a name yet... but is important in Hound's part of the story... she bashed some of his guys in the back of head with a hammer... it was a whole thing... Leander got involved... gang war stuff, don't worry about it...)

There are technically more OCs, like that Hightown lady Noble befriended during their first few weeks in town. However, I'm not sure if I'm including her in the final plot meeting. But yeah, anyway I'm rambling so on to Noble news!

For Noble, everything is plotted out in advance surprisingly…character playlist and all... just need to find the words to explain their story other than “parasite with a weird God complex feels guilty” I do have some old memes and art of them though!

Noble curse stuff...

Childhood cult stuff...

Current reality...

Poor person masquerade dress censored for tumblr...

Noble folks!

I actually wrote out a whole little thing for the black dress in a what-if scenario of...

"Oh! ,,,What if there is a masquerade in Hightown and Noble sneaks in to get some information on a certain individual who might know a thing or two about curses, but turns out the whole event if devious and their all eating babies or some fucked up shit,,,, and what if while sneaking around they see Leander and are like 'what's he doing here?' and they lock eyes but he ignores them as he ducks into a closed off area with some important looking people,,, once he comes out he walks past them and they lock eyes again as he leaves,,, Noble chases after him and once they catch up they get to see his cold and detached side right before he hides them from the other guest,,, after they talk for a bit, or more like Leander talking over them and their worries as he slowly wipes their memories while they protest that it's not fair only to wake up the next day back in their room,,, thankfully their curse is good for more then just silly bouts of insanity so they have a hunch on what happened, everyone around them who knew where they went the night before were obviously worried and the general consensus is that they might have been drugged and should go check in with Kuras just in case (wow this is getting long...) but on their way to the clinic they run into Leander and of course discusses their current problem with him ,,, words are exchanged,,, a kabedon may occur,,, as he whispers in their ear,,, all fun till he erases their memories again, or at least tires before receiving a little gift that makes him look at this whole curse thing from a different angle." DEEP BREATH! ...Anyways... yeah.

But it was taking so long to write out that I ended up losing motivation so yeah... like everything else we will pray the motivation comes back so I can finish that... plus who knows, I might make an x reader version of it if I can. (don't hold your breath... I'm extremely slow)

Anyway, I'm gonna to shut up now because I've yapped enough. I'mma make some hibiscus tea (ironic) and head to bed... Night night, if you made it this far, thank you for listening to my craziness <3

#rambles #oc: naudedel #oc: noble #touchstarved oc

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farfromstrange · 1 month

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Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 26: Seven Devils All Around

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (she/her)

Summary: When you arrive at your apartment, you notice that the door isn't locked. You make the mistake of entering without calling the police first, and you pay dearly for your recklessness.

Warnings: ANGST, blood, violence, break-in, mentions of suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: It took me a while to get this done because I just wasn't happy with it, but I finally got it done. We're starting to get knee-deep into the next angst arc, so I hope you're prepared for some tension, twists, and turns!

The view behind the windshield blurs through your tears as you navigate the streets of Dublin, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turn white.

You push your foot down on the gas. You want to go home, but you also don’t. Your apartment hasn’t felt like home in a very long time. After meeting Michael, and everything was still somewhat okay, he became your home, but even that seems like a distant feeling now. Your feelings toward him haven’t changed, of course, but the pile of shit you have to deal with keeps getting bigger, and you can’t catch up. You don’t know what to do. The helplessness adds to the pain of being in love—of worrying about the man you love and the family he was born into who seems to only want the worst for you and him—and that makes feeling at home a sheer impossibility.

The motor of your car roars, but you keep going at a speed that might cost you your license until you pull into the dark street of your neighborhood and finally manage to park the car before you break down.

Your sobs echo through the small space. Every hiccuped intake of oxygen rumbles in your chest, burning through every quarter of your lungs. It’s getting significantly harder to breathe.

Leaving was a spur-of-the-moment decision that seemed right at the time. You had to leave. You were drowning, but the hand Michael offered was too far away and too high up to reach. Miles stretched between you; if you had tried swimming toward him, you would have never reached the end alive. You had to save yourself.

Leaving was the right thing to do—at least that is what you kept telling yourself on the drive home. Now, though, you're starting to question what you were thinking, breaking apart at the seams after desperately clinging to a life buoy of paper.

You used to be such a rational person. Perhaps it was the constant ignorance of reality—the lying to yourself and pretending all was well—that made everything easier. You became complicit with your trauma’s need to forget everything and move on because facing the truth was just too painful, and you tried telling yourself that you could barely remember most of it, anyway. The things you could remember, you swore to take care of once you had it figured out, but that was a foolish lie you concocted for the sake of your peace of mind.

After meeting Michael, reality only started seeping in again. Because his reality and your reality have both turned out to be brutal in their essence. Though after all this time of pretending and being eaten alive by the things you knew and couldn’t share—didn’t want to share, even because you knew the consequences could cause your entire life to fall apart—reality has become a weight you forgot how to carry. Now, your world is falling apart anyway, and there seems to be no way out.

You knew this would happen, but you didn’t want to face the truth. That is the problem. And that is, you think, on you entirely. You should have been more careful, knowing your delusions would become your downfall eventually.

And you can’t blame Michael, no matter how badly you want to. You can’t hate or degrade him, not even in your mind. He was worried, he was upset, and he was angry because he had to find out that even after trying so hard to stay on the straight and narrow, his chances of getting custody of his daughter would remain lower than the deepest parts of the ocean. He ran against an invisible clock and still lost, even after making it on time. You tried to help him, and he tried to help himself, but your attempts were futile. Now, after everything, he is scared of losing you, too.

He gave you one condition; stay home and don’t do anything stupid. You couldn’t even do that, and the worry made his fuses blow. That’s not his fault.

You don’t know why you did it. The nagging feeling wouldn’t leave you alone, and you acted on your feelings rather than common sense. You were angry at the world; Frank coming over and confronting you with the pictures that weigh heavy in the pocket of your jeans was merely your last straw in a game you felt like you were going to lose right this second if you didn’t do something other than sit around and wait.

You faced your fears today and hated what you saw. You couldn’t stay, not when your lives are starting to pull you in different directions. Sticking together is a dangerous game, one you no longer know how to play without either one of you—or those around you—getting burned. You’re no good for each other, especially not now, and maybe you have never been.

You couldn’t stay, but right now, crying alone in your car as you’re falling apart, you can’t help but wish Michael was there to hold you through the earthquake that takes you under.

Pushing people away is your defense mechanism as much as it is Michael’s. You should never have let him this close in the first place, knowing the past you’ve been hiding from the world. You were so focused on yourself, playing down the risk behind it that you turned yourself into a fool.

You can put a butterfly bandage on his forehead; you can love him, and you can accept the love he can give you, but none of that will fix something that has been broken from the start. None of that can fix your broken family or bring your sister back to you.

Love, bandages, not even a nail could solve the issue you have been grappling with for years, and it won’t magically condemn your father to a lifetime of torture like the one he subjected you to. Saving yourself comes at a cost, and sometimes the leftover debt becomes too high to pay with an empty bank account. What do you do then? What do you do if you don’t have the means to pay the cost, not even to fight?

You slam the car door, locking it with the press of a button. You’re not thinking straight, you try telling yourself, but your body has a mind of its own.

The stairs leading up to your apartment creak under your footsteps. You take two at a time. Last-minute flights are more expensive, but you have some emergency cash stashed away in your wallet; that should be enough to pay for a flight to London. This is wrong. This is beyond reckless, and if Michael knew, he would move mountains to make sure you would never make it to the airport without opening your eyes and rethinking your decision, but it’s not rationality that drives you.

Every time you breathe, the hourglass loses another grain of sand. Every time you move without a purpose or care, another second is wasted into oblivion. You can’t run fast enough, but you have to try.

Hot tears continue to stream down your cheeks, staining your skin with a mixture of sweat and salt. When you finally reach your floor, you search for the right key on your chain with shaky fingers. It has to be somewhere.

You approach the lock. When you left, you locked it. You know you did. You wrote a note in your phone, just in case you were to wonder if you turned off all appliances and locked the door on your way out. You can never be too careful. Michael’s family plays a huge part in your newfound care. It’s no secret that monsters are no longer just lurking in the dark shadows of an alleyway or under your bed. They are in your head and the people around you, and they are even part of your family—your own flesh and blood. Monsters are everywhere but in the places you expect them to be.

You insert the key, and you stop breathing. The door budges under your touch. You locked the door when you left. You closed it. All windows are shut, and one of your neighbors would have noticed if you had accidentally left one open. They would have called you about any suspicious activity because the old lady in the apartment above yours likes to watch. You’re certain you took the necessary precautions, and yet you push against the wood once, and your door opens completely.

Your ribs are starting to hurt from how hard your heart is pounding against the sturdy bone. “What the—” you mutter under your breath. It’s a warning sign you expertly ignore.

Anyone else would have called the police at the first sign of foul play, but you can’t bring yourself to pull out your phone. If someone played with the lock, or if someone broke into your apartment, there are many things they could have taken, and you have never felt so sick to the pit of your stomach—not even when you were beaten senseless or had to confess to your father that you got a bad mark on a test, knowing he would make sure the injuries no one could see would hurt a few days longer, perhaps even scar so you could never forget what he did to you. But even without the scars, the memories are fresher than daisies on a spring morning.

The floorboards creak. Blood rushes to your cheeks. You reach into your bag, fingers wrapping around the small bottle of pepper spray you ordered online one night after a few glasses of wine and a scary encounter with a stranger on your way home from work in the dead of winter. You clutch the small bottle so tightly, you wouldn’t be surprised if you end up spraying yourself.

The silence is deafeningly loud. It screams into your ear. You’re met not with darkness but with a faint string of light streaming into the hallway from the direction of your living room. You should call the police, you really should, but you don’t. Instead, you breach the doorway and step inside.

Documents line the floor like a thin carpet. Some pieces are torn while others are still held together neatly in the corners by fragile paper clips.

You swallow. After Michael accidentally found the file in one of your drawers, you learned from your mistake and hid them somewhere they couldn’t be found. You thought you did because, between the two of you, you are the only ones aware that it even exists. You tried everything to make sure something like this wouldn’t happen. Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve, but nothing could have prepared you for this.

The blood freezes in your veins. Your hands run cold. Your desk is tipped over, and your couch has been ripped apart at the seams, probably by a sharp blade that cut into the fabric to check the filling inside. You don’t keep any money in the apartment, but the paper trail tells you instantly that whoever did this was not looking for valuables.

Only a handful of people would profit from that file: those who want to hurt you, and the one person who would take it to protect himself—the Kinsellas and your father.

Tears spring to your eyes. The fear that spreads through your body at a speed faster than lighting works as a paralytic. Your father isn’t a criminal mastermind, but he’s ruthless and who knows what he would do if he found out what you are doing behind his back. He wouldn’t just let out all of his anger and frustration on you, he would kill you. If only he knew what you were doing, he would make sure another gravestone would be added next to Ellie’s. He is that kind of person, but not the kind of person powerful enough to orchestrate this. At least that is what you would have believed a few days ago. Now, you’re not so sure anymore what to believe.

The Devil likes to hide in plain sight.

You can only stare and pray to the heavens above that you’re just dreaming. That this isn’t real. That you’re not standing in ruins. You were so careful…

Again, the floorboards creak, but you didn’t take a step this time. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your skull burns as though someone is glaring daggers into the bone. You can feel another presence in the room, breathing down your neck. Your thumb brushes over the trigger.

The light switch on the other end of the room cracks under the weight of a heavy fist. This is it, you think. You’re going to die. But—and even if it’s just for a moment, it still crosses your mind—maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

Your ragged breaths break the silence in the sudden darkness. Without warning, a pair of strong arms wraps around you from behind. You cry out, but a gloved hand finds its way over your parted lips. The taste of the leather makes you gag.

Fear takes over in a storm, but your mind refuses to let you curl up and die. You throw your head back, arms flailing as you scratch at his forearms. DNA is crucial, and no matter what happens, you must fight back.

You fight back with every ounce of strength left, but it's like struggling against a force of nature. The masked man is relentless as he crushes you against the wall.

With a deafening crash, the wooden shelf next to the still-open front door topples over as he backs against it with you pressed to his sturdy chest, sending shards of glass and ceramic crashing to the ground.

The pain explodes like a dirty bomb at the side of your skull. He smashes you against the bricks that hide behind the white wallpaper you chose not to paint over after moving here. In the darkness, you can’t see the crimson stain that forms underneath, but the shadow glistens in the moonlight.

You hit the floor hard, the man tossing you to the floorboards. The impact pushes all the air from your lungs. You gasp, and it burns, but you can’t get the oxygen back where it needs to.

Desperation claws at your throat as you reach out, grasping for anything to defend yourself. You are okay with dying, but not without putting up a fight. And is the easy way out really what you want to take to your grave after making it so far? You doubt that. Survival moves to the forefront of your mind. Before you can even muster a coherent thought, the masked stranger is on you again, hands locking around your throat.

You choke, trying to pry him away, but it’s useless. You kick your feet up and forward, desperate for air, and finally knock him off balance. With a growl of frustration, he releases his hold on you.

In the dim moonlight, you catch a glint of porcelain on the floor next to the scattered shelf. It’s the vase that held the flowers Michael gave you on your first date. You didn’t throw them away when they started to wither because you wanted to hold onto that sliver of happiness for a little longer. The sharp piece scratches the inside of your palm, but you continue to reach for it, your teeth gritted as you struggle against your attacker. Eventually, your fingers wrap around the sharp edges, and you try to jab it into his bicep.

The man leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. “Just stop…fuckin’ fighting,” he hisses. You don’t recognize his voice. It doesn’t even cross your mind to try and do so; your only motivation is to get out.

He catches the shard before you can hurt him though. You half-expected him to keep choking you until you pass out or die. Instead, he turns your makeshift weapon around on you.

Time slows to a crawl. With a primal scream of defiance, you lunge forward, trying to get it back. Yet, it's too late.

The glass pierces your flesh, tearing a gash into your side. The pain knocks the remaining air right out of your lungs. You can’t scream. You can’t cry.

Blood wells up against your skin. With a final, vicious twist of the glass, the stranger wrenches the shard free from your body. The walls start caving in. You’re trapped in a box, and the water is rising in your lungs.

The floorboards from the apartment above that make up your ceiling start to creak, and the man sits back on his heels, chin tilted up. He curses under his breath.

You try to catch a glimpse of his face, but the darkness is overwhelming. Again, the floorboards above creak. You want to beg for mercy, maybe even scream for help, but nothing wants to come out.

The weight on your chest disappears. Your eyes flutter, but you force them to stay open, patting along your trousers. Where is your phone? You hope to God you didn’t leave it in the car. You should have called the police. You should have…

It was foolish to think you would stand a chance against an intruder with a mere bottle of pepper spray. It seems as though he was trained for this very moment. He destroyed your apartment, and now he is reaching for what you were trying to preserve. You don’t know who he is, but he seems to know exactly where to find your little secret, and that makes you sick. The pain makes you sick.

How did he know?

Through blurry eyes, you see the masked figure playing with the file in his hand. He passes by you, the mask moving where he’s smirking.

“No,” you choke out. “Please…”

He sighs a condescending breath. “Little girls shouldn’t stick their noses into issues that don’t concern them.”

‘What does that even mean?’ you want to scream back at him, but the only sound that passes your lips is a gurgled moan as the tip of his steel boot starts to dig into the wound on your side.

You reach for him, but he disappears as soon as the light outside turns on and the stairs creak under the weight of your upstairs neighbor—the old lady who once introduced herself as Lilian after you helped her carry her groceries.

The invisible noose around your neck tightens. You haven’t been this scared in a very long time. If you’d stayed; if you and Michael had talked it out, and if you’d tried to be more rational instead of letting your heart take over, this wouldn’t have happened.

You fumble for your phone, your fingers slick with your blood. They tremble against the surface of the screen, leaving crimson fingerprints behind. The screen doubles and distorts before your eyes, the numbers dancing mockingly out of reach.

You manage to hit the speed dial for Michael—yes, him, not the police, and that little voice in your head is baffled that you continue making such bad decisions. Your voice is a hoarse whisper as you plead, “Please pick up, please pick up, please…” But there's no answer.

Panic claws at your chest. The phone slips from your grasp, clattering to the floor beside you, into a pool of blood and the remaining shards of the vase.

Lilian calls out from the other side of the door, her footsteps hurrying down the stairs.

With a last, desperate surge of strength, you reach out, fingers brushing against the cold floor. “Help,” you croak. Your head pounds. It sounds as though you’re screaming.

The door doesn’t budge. Didn’t she hear you? You press the call button again, desperate, but again, Michael doesn’t pick up. You can’t hold your eyes open much longer. You can’t…

The world spins dizzily around you, the darkness threatening to claim you and drag you toward the light.

You sob, reaching for the throbbing wound in your side. It’s time to accept it for what it is, you figure. Lilian pounds on the door, but the sound is starting to fade as your heartbeat pounds harder and faster against your ribcage and your throat, trying to catch up. You realize it won’t. Not in time. Your heart will grow weak soon.

You’re unsure how long you lie there, floating in a weird middle space between consciousness and a depth you have never been in before. You dip in your toes, but it won’t quite accept you just yet. You want to jump in. You want to learn to swim, even if you have to drown first. The pressure is taking you under. God, you want it to end. It’s too much, and you hate that you can’t do anything.

Denial works until it doesn’t.

The door breaks off its hinges. It couldn’t have been Lilian. You feel a hand on your cheek, and the man it belongs to slaps your skin rather roughly. Your eyes flutter open, weak and sensitive to the light.

The old lady must have alerted your other neighbors. Their voices overlap, grow louder, and then disappear. You can only hear your racing heartbeat in your throat.

Someone applies pressure to your wound, and you cry out. At least you think you do. Your fingers twitch, reaching for the man’s arm. He’s looking at you softly, trying to keep your attention on him, but it’s not him you care about.

Michael.

It comes out as gibberish.

“Save your strength,” your neighbor says. “Help is on the way.”

But you fear that the help he mentioned might not make it on time as your eyes close and you decide to succumb to the darkness. You put up enough of a fight for one day. You’re tired, and so you decide to let your eyelids flutter shut and fall into blissful oblivion.

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be tagged, too!) @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @ms-murdockswift @your-not-invisible-to-me @shouldbestudying41 @glowstick-lesbian @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @norestfortheshelbywicked @1988-fiend @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mattkinsella @schneeflocky @harperdoodle @ravenclaw617 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocksstarlight @ebathory997

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella x f!reader #michael kinsella #kin amc #kin rte #michael kinsella angst #x reader #charlie cox #chaos theory

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qcoded · 1 year

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Small Analysis on Belos/Philip, and the many chances at Redemption he missed.

I think the reason why I loved the scene in Watching and Dreaming were The Collector hugged Belos while saying "I get it! You just need kindness and forgiveness, huh?" was because it encapsulated perfectly how many chances Belos didn't take to fucking redeem himself.

I think we all kinda know that if he was just self aware, and reflected on the shit he did for ONE damn second, maybe, just maybe he could have turned out way better than what ended up happening.

Analyzing his backstory and what we can decide actually happened with Caleb (mostly based on all the pictures that were released from Hollow Mind with additional ones), it's not like he was ever exempt from sympathy, don't get me wrong.

Can't really go into the reality that Caleb, being Philip's sole guardian, most likely abandoned him to go with Evelyn into the Boiling Isles (not with bad intentions but still) since THAT'S a whole 'nother can of worms, but like hey! It's fucking understandable, who wouldn't be hurt by that?

But at the same time, what Belos decided to do, it was all on his own accord.

It was all his own decisions tha he could have actually thought on but no! He was too stuck in his delusional beliefs.

Could have stopped anywhere. After he killed Caleb. After he was tricking and offing witches and demons. After the whole encounter with Luzura/Luz and Gertrude/Lilith. After the making of the Grimwalkers began. After instilling glyphs on witches.

There are probably more examples, but basically, Belos had so many damn chances.

But nope! Never took them.

And again, The Collector was so willing to forgive him, even after manipulating and using this kid for centuries on end. After all the horrific shit that Belos has done, there was still a sliver of hope for him to actually just think, 'What am I doing? '

Of course, that didn't happen. It was a 'Friendship is Magic, but gone wrong' and he attempted to kill The Collector once again.

You know what's the best part of this? That there's a scene that just adds onto what I'm saying perfectly.

Later on when Luz revived into the super cool form that is Titan!Luz, she ripped out Belos from the titan's curse. And when he reformed again, he turned into his Philip Wittebane look.

And he had the fucking audacity to blame that dark magic (presumably his curse) was the one who made him commit all those horrendous acts.

This would make pretty much be his very first, and only attempt towards redemption.

But the thing is, it's too late.

Belos threw out his very last chance at redemption with The Collector.

And now? He has nothing more but than to deal with the ultimate consequences that have been building up.

This is also why I'm not that mad that Belos wasn't shown to finally realize the severity of what he has done, or to feel all that built up guilt flow it.

It's because it shows amazingly how far up his ass he was in his beliefs that even when he was DYING, he was just too fucking stubborn.

The more ironic part, like I mentioned earlier, that 'dark magic' was pretty much just his curse. That I want to mention, is fucking SELF AFFLICTED. Belos was literally the one eating all those Palismen, which are the cause of the curse. He's quite literally blaming himself!

And even though he tried to claim that Luz somehow cured him, got quickly called out on his bullshit when the boiling rain revealed him to still be purely goop.

Till the last minute, he was trying to keep a facade that quite literally, crumbled.

TLDR; Belos ultimately gave up every chance to be a better person, and he pretty much got what was coming for him.

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olderthannetfic · 6 months

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Sometimes I just have to laugh at how a lot of people nowadays just don't really get (or don't seem to even stop to consider) the scale of certain things, even when they really, really should look into them because they're relevant for their points. There was this person doing this Threads post on Stardew Valley for not having pronoun options in the game and how he didn't answer or acknowledge this change.org petition asking for those pronoun options. And I do agree that pronoun options would be nice and I do hope that they are included in the base game across the many platforms. But the change.org petition got 2.3k signatures in the first 10 days and now (3 months later) is sitting at around 6.3k signatures. There are extremely good odds that he's just not aware of the petition at all. Like, those are good numbers for spreading something across a university or your bubble on Tumblr but like, that's nowhere near viral enough for "This guy has to know about it and just chose not to acknowledge it" And then there's the reality that Stardew is localized in 12 languages, 6 of which have grammatical gender, so adding pronouns isn't actually just adding pronouns, it's also hiring native speaker consultants and translators and figuring out a way to reword some of your adjectives or to insert neogenders and communicating those options to the user, etc. That's a non-trivial amount of work, far more than the "Just add a pronoun box and replace the he/hims and she/hers" approach that could have worked in English. And parallel to all he announced that a major free update with new content to the 7 year old game is under development a few days before the petition, and he's working on a new project as well. I do think the author of the post meant well, and didn't want to cancel ConcernedApe or something, but like, the situation isn't as simple as it might seem either. i18n is just hard in general even when there are clear guidelines to follow, when you're dealing with stuff that there isn't even a clear consensus in the community (like neogenders in languages like French or Portuguese)?

Oh? There's going to be new Stardew content? Or was this Ginger Island?

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liagazed · 2 years

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amour éternel ; s. harrington.

summary: the "endearing" bickering between dustin, robin, and steve for your attention will go on until the ends of time, but of course, not even your brother and best friend can get in between this amour éternel between you and your boyfriend.

tags: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader. best friend robin. dustin being a protective brother, but blink and you miss it! fluff, fluff, fluff. flirty and soft steve. even flirtier reader. implied smut in the end? use of foul language. slight vulgar humour. i think that's it

wc: 2.1k

________________________________________

To say that Steve was nervous was an understatement. He hadn’t seen you since spring break, and it was now the summer, So college was letting you off the hook for two, almost three months.”Crying over all those college assignments will be worth it eventually” is something Steve knew you’d repeat to yourself, knowing that once you were done, you’d be happy with your boyfriend under the same roof.

Steve did not stop pacing back and forth, wondering where you were and why he didn’t see you amongst the faces of the people in the crowd, so many thoughts swarming his head, like, what if you lost your luggage? Or what if you got lost in the airport and couldn’t find his car?

In reality, it was all stupid thoughts that preoccupied him because all you did was go to the bathroom.

“Jesus– where could (Y/n) be?” Steve semi-yelled, causing Robin to give him an eye roll, one that certainly said ‘you need to calm the fuck down’, and she placed her hand on his shoulder. “Steve, the love of your life is on the way. Maybe visiting the bathroom, for fuck’s sake. Doesn’t everyone have a bladder?” Robin spoke sarcastically, causing Steve's pacing to stop, a frown tugging at his lips, a crease forming between his brows.

“She’s right.” Dustin muttered, eyes pulling away from the crowd for a few seconds to flash Steve a somewhat dirty glare, that look referencing the hindrance that was Steve’s pacing. He looked down at the ground a little, causing Dustin to turn his head back to the swarming crowd of people that made him the slightest bit anxious, knowing how you hated them.

“I’m sorry, it’s just– do I even look okay? Do you think (Y/n)’s still gonna love me?” Steve said as he ran a hand through his hair, gaze worried and hopeless, eyes meeting with Robin’s as he looked for an answer. The words falling from Steve’s mouth even caused Dustin’s hard expression to soften as a wave of worried confusion washed over him. “My sister? Not love you anymore? PLEASE.” Dustin gave a playful roll of his eyes.

“Shut up, Tiny Henderson, I mean it!” Steve cried out in annoyance.

“The not Tiny Henderson has been in love with you for as long as I can remember, and that’s not gonna happen now.” your brother grumbled, Steve groaning at his words and Robin rolling

her eyes once again, wondering how she’d been caught in the middle of all of this– oh, yeah. She also wanted to see you, her long-term best friend. “Robin’s my soulmate” You’d joke, which always put a frown on Steve’s face, puppy eyes and all, a look that said that he thought he was your soulmate, and with a roll of your eyes, the word platonic was forced out of your mouth, giving Steve a kiss of reassurance.

Nonetheless, Robin would never get in the way of your relationship with Steve, she was aware of the consequences that would have due to your undying feelings for one another, and it’s not like she wanted to, anyway, but she understood why Steve felt the way he did, though it was complete and total horseshit.

“Harrington, I had to deal with my best friend’s endless babbling about you all the damn time, so for you to even think that someone who would go home and scream into their pillow because you– Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington– talked to that person once today and winked at them and call me about it HOURS later– still flustered, might I add– is total bullshit.” Robin finally said, bringing a smile to Steve’s lips as he thought about how adorable you were.

“Thanks, Robs.” Steve laughed a little, and Robin couldn’t help but smile at her best friend’s happiness and look of relief.

All thoughts and conversations were abruptly stopped by the sound of static coming from the walkie talkie Dustin clutched in his hand, the words “This is Henderson number 1 returning to base. I repeat, this is Henderson number 1 returning to base, over,” being spoken shortly after.

A wave of excitement washed over all three of your friends (or boyfriend, best friend, and brother), knowing that you weren’t far away. “This is Henderson number 2, where are you located? Over.” Dustin spoke, determination heard clearly in his tone.

“Uh, I’m not that far away, I’m sure you can spot me from here. Nice shirt, Stevie. Over” Steve could practically hear the smirk in your voice and a shade of pink dusted his cheeks as he muttered a thanks to himself.

“Gross, save your flirting for when I’m not around, maybe?” Dustin pleaded in annoyance, causing you to roll your eyes as well as Steve’s. “I see you, I’m on my way. Over and out.” Dustin spoke and dove into the large crowd of people.

“God, I’m so nervous. Are you sure I look okay?” Steve asked, the damned concerned look masking his features once more.

“Yes, Steve, you look great. You and your stupid hair,” Robin reached up and ruffled Steve’s mane of perfectly kept hair, causing him to mutter a ‘stop’ as he fixed his hair, it going back to its perfect Harrington swoop™. “And as you may have heard, you got told that your shirt was nice, meaning that it’s probably code for it’s gonna end up on the floor along with the rest of your clothing articles.” Robin jokes, and Steve was quick to react as his mouth dropped open.

“You’re soooo mature, Buckley,” “Oh, I’m sure that that’s not what’s gonna happen soon after you get home–” the two bickered, all statements made overlapping the other’s.

“Jesus fuck, are you arguing over me?” You said mockingly with a grin, approaching Steve and Robin, Dustin not far behind with your bag. Steve’s head immediately jerked around to face you, frozen in place. He was starstruck, for sure, admiring you in your pretty outfit that would compliment your figure, hands behind your back as your zip-up loosely draped your shoulders. “Damn, are you not excited to see me, Harrington?”

That phrase immediately awoke something in your boyfriend, which you noticed as he engulfed you in a hug, picking you up and spinning you around, a giggle tumbling from your mouth as he put you down, arms still embracing you tightly as if he was afraid to let go. “Well, hello there, Fara Fawcett.” You greeted officially as you wrapped your arms around Steve’s shoulders and held him close, your left hand making its way up to his hair, massaging his scalp.

“Hi, baby.” He mumbled into your shoulder, leaning into your touch, pulling away from the hug just a little bit to see your face. One of his hands cupped your cheek as the other remained on your waist, a dopey, lovesick smile taking over Steve’s face as he scanned over your features. Without a warning, Steve dove down to kiss you passionately. With the fervor that he was kissing you with, you could tell he’s been craving this for a while. You kissed him back with the same amount of passion, Steve’s hand sliding down from your cheek to cup the back of your neck. You deepened the kiss further by tilting your head to the side as you brought a hand up to his face to cup his cheek, the other remaining in his hair.

“Hey, could you maybe… I don’t know– NOT make out in the damn airport!?” Dustin sort of screeched, still not managing to pull the two of you apart. You only pulled back when Steve bit your lip, causing a small moan of pain mixed with pleasure to escape your lips. “Sorry” Steve smirked a little. “I missed you.” Steve rested his forehead on yours as he flashed you a breathless smile. “I missed you, too, Stevie.” you laughed lightly.

“Hey, dingus, quit hogging my best friend, will ya? I missed her, too.” Robin spoke, forcing the two of you apart which caused Steve to frown.

“Hiya, Buckley.” You smiled as you extended your arms, held them open for Robin to be welcome into your loving embrace.

“Hello, Henderson,” She smiled back, almost falling into you as she wrapped her arms around your torso, squeezing you tightly. “Thank God you’re back. I couldn’t deal with Steve’s endless rants about how much he missed you every five minutes.” Robin jokes, bringing a smile to your face as a light chuckle escapes your lips.

“Hey!” Steve yelled in a somewhat hurt tone, pulling you away from Robin the slightest bit. “No, don’t pull away, you’re warm.” Robin mumbled, arms still wrapped around your figure.

“Now you’re hogging my girlfriend, Robin.” Steve mentioned, being annoyed.

“Screw you, I knew her first.” Robin snapped back languidly, anger still somewhat heard in the tone she chose to speak with.

“Uh, no, I did, so quit hogging my sister!” Dustin yelled, causing both Robin and Steve to shoot dirty looks at him.

“Hey, can– okay, can we not argue over me? I’m right here! And quite frankly, I don’t do good with conflict, especially when it involves me.” You finally spoke, pulling away from Robin completely to stand in the middle of where the three stood.

“Sorry, (Y/n).” they all muttered in unison, making their way to the car. Well, Dustin and Robin, at least. Steve waited for them to get closer to the car just so he could scoop you up into his loving embrace and carry you to the car, erupting all sorts of giggles and laughs from your throat, which Dustin rolled his eyes at as he placed your luggage in the trunk.

Robin made her way into the backseat of the car, Dustin doing the same but entering the opposite side. Meanwhile, Steve opened the passenger’s door for you to sit inside. “Merci, mon amour.” You thanked your boyfriend as you fastened your seatbelt, leaving him slightly confused as he shut your door and got in the driver’s seat, shutting his door and fastening his seat belt.

“What language is that?” questioned a confused Steve Harrington.

“It’s french, you dingus.” Robin leaned over Steve’s seat to tell him. “You've been learning french?” Steve asked you as he started the car. “Just a little that I picked up from one of my classmates. Oh, and not to mention you and I had a French class together sophomore year?” You spoke sarcastically.

“Shit, you’re right. I’m sorry, babe.” He leaned over the console of the car to plant a sweet kiss on your temple.

“It’s okay, I still love you.” you responded, Robin and Dustin muttering a “told ya,” at the statement, which caused you to chuckle lightly.

“Shut up,” Steve replied to the two with a grin, his hand beginning to grip your thigh, tracing soft patterns along the inner side of it. You blushed lightly and looked out of your window to face away from Steve. Steve caught this and immediately tried to grab your attention. “Hey,” Steve spoke, barely above a whisper. “I missed you a lot, sweetheart. I love you.”

You smiled at the brunette’s statement and turned to face him. “I love you even more, Stevie.” “Not possible” He chuckled, looking down at his fingers that were now tracing imaginary floral patterns on your inner thigh, going up closer to your heat. You bit your lip to hold back a whimper, shooting Steve a glare that reminded him that Robin and Dustin were in the car as well. He immediately brought his hand back down to your thigh. “I’m not letting you out of my sight all summer, baby,” Steve grinned.

“So you plan to hog my best friend all summer? Is that it?” Robin said, slightly annoyed.

“Yeah, no way, we wanna spend time with my sister, too!” cried Dustin. This sparked a whole argument between the three, one that you did not fail to roll your eyes at. “HEY! What’d I say about the arguing?” You yelled, the three almost immediately having apologetic looks on their faces. “Dustin, I’ll spend time with you, same with Robin.”

“What about me?” Steve pouted, which caused you to cup his jaw and press a gentle kiss on the shell of his ear. “You’ll get your special time with me later, sweet boy.” You whispered directly in Steve’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

I guess that means Robin was right once again.

Let’s pray for those poor articles of clothing then, shall we? the poor things are going to get tossed like rag dolls.

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