#my boy looks so goooood

[faunandfloraas]

oh my god?!

[kwakjiseoks]

[radioactiveshitstorm]

finally got some art of my boy Relic-21, by @slaviiik (absolutely fantastic artist, 11/10 would commish again)

[vesselmade-a]

he means everything to me

[chloecorvid]

My boy Norphanus had a reeeeally bad night last night. But whew is it gonna get WORSE today when we have our Strahd dinner/finale marathon session... Wonder if he'll be able to actually convince the man to choose peace with his speech (unlikely).

Have some doodles from the last night.

[kingdomoftyto]

I've been naming all of my animals in Fields of Mistria after characters from musicals, loosely "paired up" for breeding purposes at first but eventually I ran out of M/F couple names and started just using names from queer pairs and then unattached single characters

Anyway all this to say my first gold chicken was a rooster named Phoenix, because Turnabout: an Ace Attorney Musical is absolutely included in the theme and the opportunity was too good to pass up:

(behold his shiny majesty)

... But then, because Fate has a sick sense of humor, the very next chick that hatched was a female with a very particular pre-filled random name:

(low-quality photo taken with my phone because I was too shocked and dismayed to even think of taking a proper screenshot at the time)

[h00f]

T4TM (Theseus4TheMinotaur)

lost wax cast bronze, patina & paste wax

2023

(process photos & info under cut <3)

my minotaur boy!! pls click on the photos for higher res! my thesis is focusing on trans men and creatures (how original ik) and this was last semester's final. i spent a lot of time looking at sculptures of the theseus/minotaur story, and yknow? a LOT of them are erotic! i'm pretty sure i saw some of them on tumblr a decade ago, and that's led to this now!

as you'll notice, the minotaur has a big t-dick! i wanted to give him breasts and an enlarged clitoris to present a very masculine trans figure. the boy on the bottom is also trans because i say so . the piece is about looking up to older, bigger, hairier trans men and seeing something awe-inspiring and beautiful. the minotaur was locked up by a cruel father for being different, and i think modern adaptations tend towards a sympathetic asterion (his name in one version)

making this piece was. so much effort. it took me about 3 months to get it all together - from clay model (plasticine) to 3D print to silicone mold to wax cast, and finally bronze pour into the shell mold. and then a TON of filing, sanding, dremel-ing, and various other metalworking techniques that probably took years off my life.

i started with sketches and made theeeeeee ugliest model ever:

then used a 3D scanner to get it digital, then spent a goooood month or two making him pretty in blender! then i spent an agonizing few weeks trying to get it print-ready, and fiiiiiinally did

^^^ an early resin printed draft of the model - you can see in the final that i added lots to theseus after some feedback, but sadly the nosering broke off every time i cast it so i just. let that be <3

then came the moldmaking, and then the wax dipping!! the yellow stuff is shell mold (ground up ceramic bits and algae soup, sticks to the wax, then silica sand in varying sizes on top) which gets the wax melted out, and bronze poured in!

then it's all metalworking, cutting stuff off, and working with hot metal. they don't tell you about all the bronze dust and how annoying it gets wearing a respirator AND goggles. but it is for me health, me boy. here's him all cleaned up before the patina:

and then i spray him down with various chemicals to make it "patina" (aka rust) in pretty colors. wait a few days, then apply paste wax to seal it and give it that shine!

then we get what you see above!!! the blue was actually unintentional, and i'm still not super sure why it looks that way.. but it's pretty so idc <3

thanks for reading!! if you ever have any bronze/casting questions, don't hesitate to message me! <3

[arsonlookers]

✧ MS. THERAPIST Yandere Childe! Idea ✧

slight suggestive please be warned.

Yandere Childe! who becomes obsessed in love with you because you are his therapist.

Yandere Childe! got sentenced to jail for the same actions of being a total creep and a yandere. sentenced for murder, stalking, attempting kidnapping, assault, stealing, and many more gruesome acts he did.

Yandere Childe! who was very stubborn and murderous after going to jail. yelling that he needs to protect Lumine [the victim of his Yandere acts] and lumine not even planning to time visiting him in jail [i mean who would?]

Yandere Childe! who stops eating and taking care of himself being dishearten by not seeing lumine for the past month and starts starving since then. losing the reasoning to keep living.

Yandere Childe! who meets reader [you] in his 2nd week of staying becomes his personal therapist since then.

Yandere Childe! tried to kill you because he dont want to see anybody except lumine.

Yandere Childe! Who nearly did murder you if not for your fast instinct and taekwondo training you got as a child, and knock him off the ground he was not able to get back up again.

Yandere Childe! becomes more interested in you after that incident keeps apologizing about what happened before and keeps asking you to fight him. To strangle him with your thigh again.

Yandere Childe! who keeps dreaming about the incident and just wants to be in that position again. in between your plush thigh. starts to be more and more interested in your life for some reason

Yandere Childe! who keeps checking you out every time you are there or its therapy session.

Yandere Childe! Who keeps asking you if you have a boyfriend or husband, if you do what they look like, what are their names, The more he is around you the more his questions become personal and creepy.

Yandere Childe! who for some reason starts to become healthy again, and starts to work out inside his jail. starts to show off his hard work abs and all, for some reason starts to become more and more touchy and just keeps asking you to be inside in a room again promising to not hurt you ever again.

Yandere Childe! who now shamelessly dirty talks to you and keeps talking about everything like I mean every thing in his life and how he was obsessed and why he did all of it.

Yandere Childe! who opens up everything where he hides the bodies how he disposes of them, his past trauma, how he got kidnapped, how he stalks and keeps a altar for lumine, E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.

suggestive warning ahead!!!

Yandere Childe! who shamelessly starts thinking about you in sensual ways, like how he likes to feel your mouth and all around his body. and absolutely in his mouth.

yandere Childe! shamelessly masturbates in front of you or in his cell. like "ahhh~ uggg~ I ~ keep talking!- AHhhh~~mmmm~ your so cute~~ " behind his cell, he is doing all those unholy things

Yandere Childe! keeps asking you to either strip, about your underwear, join him, shamelessly dirty talks while he is pumping his member keeps his eyes on your body and never looks anywhere. just in you and in your eyes, he just keeps talking about "I want to fck you~ mminside that hole~ AHHHhhhh~mmmm~ look at me darling~ look at how you made me feel~ you are making me feel so~ so~ goooood~~ my cute~ sexy! therapist~~ "

Yandere Childe! Who knows that You can't just leave him and ask other therapists to be his doctor because he tells you how he will kill them even behind these bars. if he knows that you actually wanted to leave him [ oh honey he will kill even if it meant to also be the reason of his death]

Yandere Childe! begging for you to just stay with him, "I will be your good boy~ pleaseee~ agggh ~ ummpphh~ " while keeping his hands on his member

Yandere Childe! If you will truly leave him he will find ways to break out of these prison cells. and will search for you even if it means to go travel around the world to search for you.

Yandere Childe! who is rich by the way like he truly has the money. and actually bribes some of the guards in the prison without you knowing. just to keep an eye on you of course .

Yandere Childe! Who actually starts to call you pet names shamelessly like "darling" "baby" "slut" "savior" and many more all these other pet names of his are getting worst by the day.

Yandere Childe! who enjoys how you also slowly start to enjoy his company even if some of it is just absurb and questionable. He also enjoys how he somehow did get you to talk about your past a little bit.

Yandere Childe! who is in prison but actually got some information about you from the outside. he will not tell you that of course.

Yandere Childe! who now found an interesting and lovely woman to obsessed with, to love, to keep him forever and ever may she like it or not. Yandere Childe! who promises you that you will be stuck with him forever. Yandere Childe! who now found another will to live this life of his, found his true purpose, he who accepts that everything that is happening now is FATE that you two are FATED to be together.

Yandere Childe! who behind the cells can still do anything to his power to have you, to control you, to make you stay, to make you love him, your oh so LOVELY PATIENT.

"ms. therapist ~ I need your assistance!~ I feel so lonely would you care to join hmm~ to help me feel better~ help this lonely patient of yours~"

Yandere Childe! will love you forever .,.and actually has a shrine for you outside this prison in his house so yeahhh. hahahaha.

YANDERE CHILDE! who is MADLY in love with you .

so please take care of this sick patient of yours ok? ms. therapist~

✧ahhhh!! my first Yandere writing I never imagined I would write it I'm not really that confident about this one I'm trying something new other than angst so yeahh thank u for reading just a random idea really if there are any grammar mistakes sorry about it. it might be quite messy but I just want to share and had this idea of being his therapist and will be forever stuck being his therapist for life. hehe anyways bye~ - ars onlookers

"ART IS NOT MINE" -from pinterest

♡♡Reblogs and likes are much appreciated!!♡♡

[mochinomnoms]

Omg that’s so funny. Like the boys ask you to hold smth for them really quick and you put it in your boobs 😭😭😭

Azul would put you to good use and give you his random little trinkets he carries around

Malleus would be fascinated with how you figured you could hold all that

Leona would start putting his hand in them as a pocket to heat him up 💀💀

-🌑

YEAH TITTY POCKETS quick snippet before I go to bed:

Riddle was walking past the cafeteria when he noticed a small crowd forming around the table that the Prefect, Grim, Ace, and Deuce would normally sit at. A sense of dread filled him as he approached, positive that one of his freshmen was up to some trouble again.

So imagine his surprise when he walks up and sees a bunch of students, from various years and dorms, surrounding you as they handed you items. Imagine his even bigger shock when you, making direct eye contact with Riddle, smile at him as you take a small notepad from a random hand and stuff it into your breasts.

It takes a moment for him to realize that you've undone your tie and unbutton your shirt to reveal a healthy amount of cleavage, the hem of your white lacy (Oh heavens, he thinks it's lace, wait why is he looking!?) peeking at him.

“Oh, hey Riddle—”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? YOUR SHIRT—DID YOU JUST—GAH!” Riddle launched himself over the crowd to clutch your shirt and tug it closed, face in his signature red.

“Hey! What's the big deal!” Riddle whipped his head over to see Ruggie pouting, holding a handful of granola bars.

“I was gonna see how many granola bars they could fit—”

“This is utterly indecent! Why are you allowing this Prefect? What even led up to this?!”

“Oh!” You perked up, grabbing and gently pushing his arms off you. “I was telling Ace and Deuce how I can fit up to 19 items into my boobs for storage, 10 if they're bigger. 3 if they're really big though, like a cell phone!”

He stared at you with confusion, flushing again as he saw you take three bars from Ruggie, adjust your…boobs, and start sliding the items in. As if this was a normal thing.

“Why are you acting like this is normal?”

“…. Because it is? Riddle, as someone with titties,” you ignored his scandalized gasp. “I gotta take advantage. These girls may hurt my back, but they also make excellent pockets. Look!”

You took a potion bottle from a different hand, smoothly sliding your hand down the side of your right breast. Taking a moment to adjust again, you stood up with your hands on your hips, looking proud.

“Look at my boobs and tell me how many items I have in them. Right now!”

Riddle gasped, “I will not, that is so, so, so indecent—”

“10!”

“25!”

“8!”

You snapped your fingers at a random Ignihyde student, grinning as you shouted, “Correct! You get a prize, lemme just—”

You took a moment to dig through your bra, as Riddle listened in to the students around him make comments.

“Is it wrong to find this hot?”

“Dude, why can't I have boob pockets?”

“Oh my goooood, am I into this? I think I'm into this.”

“That's actually kinda useful, not gonna lie.”

You cried out triumphantly, holding out a lollipop and handing it over to the Ignihyde student, who shrugged and accepted the candy.

“See Riddle? Useful, you can ask me to carry anything you want—”

“I will do NO such thing!” He scoffed, crossing his arms indigently, “I am a self-respecting housewarden of Night Raven College, and I'm offended at the implications that I'd do such a thing with your... you know.”

He gestured as Azul casually walked up, the crowd parting for him and the twins.

“Hello, my dear Prefect, can you hand me the spare punch cards I gave you? We ran out faster than anticipated this week.”

“Oh yeah, here” You dug through your left breast, taking out a small bundle of Mostro Lounge punch cards. “I ended up giving out a few to some guys, so expect a few new customers this weekend”

Azul smiled and nodded at you, taking the cards from your hand.

“That's fine, thank you, Prefect. I come by again later to grab the rest of my items.”

“Okie! See ya, byeee!”

You waved him goodbye, turning back to Riddle, who, once again, looked at you scandalously.

“… What?”

[eveningspringbreeze]

A First Step, Towards Friendship

Season: Spring (ES!! second year)

Characters: Kohaku, Hiiro, Madara

Hiiro and Kohaku: Nom nom….

Hiiro: Ah, I accidentally got some on the table. Could you get a wipe, Kohaku-san?

Kohaku: ‘Course, here ya go. Ya gotta open yer mouth big an’ wide so that ya don't spill crumbs. 

Hiiro: Thank you, I’ll take note of that! 

Kohaku: (...He looks ‘bout as normal a boy as they come when he’s eatin’ breakfast, huh)

(The Hiiro-han I saw durin’ Matrix astonished me so much that I can’t help but incessantly worry away just from bein’ near him) 

(He disciplines in a way that dredges up memories of my sisters… or particularly, the way he made us prepare for all kinds o’ things) 

(He dived headfirst into playin’ villain just so Crazy:B could secure the first win)

(There sure were lotsa things happenin’ in the Amagi village, but by far my biggest shocker would be…) 

Hiiro: Umu. Today’s bread was baked wonderfully. It was so delicious. Maybe I should get seconds? 

Kohaku: (whispering) With that face, he follows every rule to an absolute. He forces everyone to follow them with him, an’ any opposition turns him into a terrifyin’ lad)

(Like say, were there to be a rule that determined that all breakfasts shall be bread, what would Hiiro-han do?) 

(Would he even go as far as to tell me, who’s currently eatin’ rice, to have bread instead?) 

Phew. I got so caught up with these stupid ideas that simply eatin’ breakfast took far too long. 

???: I’m hooooome!!!! ☆ I’m so thirsty after running! 

Kohaku: Mm… no doubt, that’s Madara-han’s voice. G’mornin’. 

Madara: Ohh, if it isn’t Kohaku-san! Goooood morniiiiing! ☆

Kohaku: Yer always so damn loud. 

Anyhow, there’s somethin’ I wanted to ask… 

Would ya rather have rice or bread for breakfast? 

Madara: …Hmm? That’s quite the unexpected question. 

Have you been wondering about what food I like? I’m so happy to hear that ♪

Kohaku: Ah, no, this ain’t the type o’ question that should be thrillin’ ya. Not like I’ll die without yer answer anyhow. 

Madara: Now now, don't be shy and say it with your chest! "I'm dyin' to make breakfast for Madara-han", right? ♪

Kohaku: Who’s sayin’ what? And the same goes to you. Rather than "accidentally" pullin’ it outta me, can'tcha just ask directly? Y'know, "Why is Kohaku-san asking me something like this, hmm?"

Anyhow, I’ll explain… I was eatin’ with Hiiro-han just now. 

So we were in the Matrix project, where this an’ that happened… Now, I’ve got this slightly odd relationship with Hiiro-han. 

Madara: Mmhm. I see, I get the situation now. 

Oh, to think that Kohaku-san would consult me for relationship advice ♪

Mama’s delighted! Moved beyond words! So happy, in fact, that I feel inclined to ruffle Kohaku-san’s head ☆

Kohaku: Uwaah!? Stop! 

Actually, what’s with this weirdass attitude? Are ya makin’ fun of me, ya jerk? 

Madara: Hahaha, who’s to say? 

Anyway. Personally, I’d say that becoming friends with Hiiro-san could alleviate much of your worries, Kohaku-san. 

Kohaku: Friends? 

Madara: Yep. For example… if Hiiro-san were to invite you to a meal, you wouldn’t turn him down, right? 

Kohaku: Well, I ‘spose so. We were eatin’ together earlier too. 

Madara: Then, let’s extend it from within the Starmony dorms to ES as a whole. What would you do if he asked you to go shopping with him? Turn him down? 

Kohaku: Maybe if I had other plans… ‘sides that, I don’t see a reason to not go. 

Madara: Yep. So basically, you two are already on pretty decent terms. 

But what would you consider Hiiro-san to be to you? 

Is he an acquaintance from a different unit? Or perhaps someone close to a good friend of yours? …Try taking a step back to reevaluate. 

Kohaku: That’s true. Who knows whether or not Rabu-han an’ I have the same thoughts on this person. 

Madara: I’m also assuming that, since whatever happened during Matrix, your thoughts on him have complicated since. 

You two may be on relatively good terms, but with your perspective, it seems you can’t quite put a good name to your relationship. 

And that’s exactly why if you were able to get to a point where you could start calling him a “friend”, you could reforge your relationship with him entirely. 

Kohaku: Woah… I’d never expected you to give such sound advice. 

Madara: ….That’s odd. I’m supposed to be your older senpai with plenty of life experience under my belt, no?

Kohaku: My bad. I just didn’t expect the friendless Madara-han to be the one advisin’ me on makin’ friends. 

Madara: Hrm… what was that about me making fun of you earlier? 

Kohaku: Ahaha! ‘Course, I think I can do this with yer idea. Thank ya kindly ♪

Now, I’ll call Hiiro-han right away—

Hiiro: This… is a store selling idol merchandise, yes? 

Did you want to come to this store with me, Kohaku-san? 

Kohaku: It must’ve been a doozy to be called an’ brought here so suddenly, sorry ‘bout that. 

I was just glad to have gotten in touch with ya… but the only spot I can think for bringin’ “friends” is this idol goods store. (2)

Hiiro: “Friends”? 

Kohaku: Mmhm. I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout wantin’ to be such with ya, Hiiro-han. 

I thought of talkin’ it out with fists too, since I reckon that a playfight could bring us closer. 

Hiiro: With fists? Playfight? 

Kohaku: Ah, I’m just talkin’ to myself. Don’t worry ‘bout that. 

…So far, I believe you and I’ve been toddlin’ along on just “being on decent terms”. 

What do you think ‘bout callin’ each other “friends” from now on? 

We’ve even worked together as one unit before, so how ‘bout we continue workin' together? 

I’d never really tried to make friends before, so I may slip an’ say weird things from time to time. If that’s okay with you…. how about it? 

Hiiro: ….Umu! I’d love to, Kohaku-san! 

Kohaku: Really? 

Hiiro: Of course ♪ You’re a close friend of Aira’s, so I assumed that the two of us were already friends. 

But now that I think about it, I never did walk up to you and go, “let’s be friends!”, did I? 

From now on, as newfound friends… I’ll be in your care, Kohaku-san ♪

Kohaku: Ahaha, shakin’ hands as proof of our friendship, huh. What a nice feelin’ ♪

I planned on the two of us just goin’ shopping as friends, but I’d like ta hear more ‘bout ya, Hiiro-han. 

Do you have any other friends, like Hinata-han? What hobbies do you have, and what do ya usually talk about? Can ya tell me?

Hiiro: Of course! Let’s shop and chat away! 

Kohaku: Thanks, Hiiro-han. As friends, from now on… I’ll be in yer care ♪

—--------------------

Translation Notes

Callback to Aira's FS1 4* story, "Novices in Friendship", where Aira brings Kohaku to presumably the exact same merch store. 

Thank you for reading! This is not proofread at the moment, but this was such a cute story that I had to translate it!! ^^ 

[wombywoo]

Hello!!

I wanted to ask if you would be willing to share how you go about finding the references for the injuries you depict in your work? Your pieces where the CoD boys are sporting injuries, fresh and old, are always so lifelike and to my untrained eye seem entirely medically correct.

I have been trying my hand at drawing the boys retired and resting as well, but I’m finding it difficult to decide what work injuries to add and how to find the respective references.

How do you decide what injuries to portray? And how do you go about finding the reference material?

Your huge fan, amustikas

Oooh ok ok! I'm gonna post my answer publically because I think others would find this interesting too!

To preface, I am definitely NOT a medical professional, and as such, a lot of the stuff I choose to depict in my art is not so much..ah, medically accurate as it is....aesthetically pleasing 🤭

I'll start with scars, as a lot of us enjoy slashing up Simon's face with them, lol. Generally, I'll do a cursory google image search for the type of scar I'm looking for (be warned, these can be graphic) with searches like 'burn scar' 'surgery scar' etc. But I find that for things like cuts and lacerations, real-life scars are a bit innocuous and lame 🤷‍♀️ Unfortunately not everyone's skin wants to retain that perfect slash look™️😔

So what I usually end up referencing are costume prosthetic scars ✨

As you can see, they're pretty gnarly:

And you definitely don't have to go this intense, but I find that the dramatic, carved-like appearance of these translate better to art than a realistically healed wound 🤙

The other thing to consider is the prevalence of injuries in the military. From what I've gathered, the most common will be back/shoulder/limb injuries, just a general fucking up of the whole musculoskeletal system in general due to constant overuse 🤕 Hearing loss, shrapnel/blast/burn injuries are also common, as well as all the negative psychological effects :') goooood times (not)

I think it's neat to look up real-life examples of these things, but it can get a bit intense if you're squeamish...

SafeSearch is OFF, the horrors are REal 😳

So yeah...I tend to tone things down, all things considered...😅

For this particular piece:

I researched broken humerus injuries and treatment 👍 Poor boy 🥺(Yes, I am aware that I consumed entire articles and did a shit ton of research about this just to go ahead and put a female's x-ray in this fucking picture sdfghjkl rip💀😭)

But here you can see the actual process for applying the brace for this particular injury:

Neat, eh?

When I draw Johnny with a knee brace, it's usually a real authentic one you can buy on amazon:

Product placement blast!!!💥✨ Bezos, where is my cut?? 🫰

As for ones like this:

I tend to just...scatter some wounds around and patch them up accordingly, lol. Bruising around the eyes is common with any head injury, and surgical stitching will offer a nice puckered skin effect mmm 👌 (I swear I'm normal abt this)

I'm sure the medical malpractice lawsuits are stacking up for me now, but again--it's usually more about the ✨visuals✨

My parting advice would be--go nuts! Feel free to maim and mutilate and mangle to your heart's content 🥰

Thank you for the question, Amustikas! I love your art as well 💗🫶

[loveharlow]

SEVEN - 008

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[12.2k] based on 1x09 and 1x10.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, extreme violence, mentions of child abuse, mentions/graphic depictions of rape/non-con, mild themes of ptsd, mentions of/allusions to death, general angst

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ and here is the season one finale of SEVEN :(, kinda sad but excited for season two. this is a long one so grab your takis 'cause this shit's gon be goooood (UDY reference, am i old?)

also this is not spell-checked :(

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

AFTER FLEEING FROM THE AIRSTRIP,  the four of you found temporary shelter in a junk lot some miles away. You camped there, for what had to be, at least an hour before you watched an unmistakable plane fly overhead.

“And there goes the gold.” JJ said disappointedly, throwing his arms out to the side. “Shit!” He yelled, kicking an already busted up lawn chair.

“Fuck!” Pope hollered, throwing hat so far that it clattered loudly against something out of sight. “God damn it!” He continued raving, picking up an old baseball and swinging at every object within his line of vision. The three of you stood back in shock, never seeing such a display of emotion from the boy.

At least not one this aggressive. He continued breaking and smashing and shattering before deciding to ditch the bat in favor of lifting a large tin trash can, throwing across the concrete. 

“Pope!” Kiara called out, flinching. The boy just paced, hyperventilating before collapsing against a worn down bench. He had a look of distress on his face before bursting out into tears. 

“I was wondering when this was gonna happen.” JJ spoke lowly, walking towards his friend while Kie looked aimlessly around at the even bigger mess he’d made of the junkyard. The blonde held out a weed pen in the curly-haired boy’s direction, shrugging a single shoulder. “A little weed never hurt anyone.”

“JJ.” Kiara reprimanded. “You know he doesn’t smoke.” Pope looked to the two and then to you, eyes asking for advice. You simply shrugged as if to say why not, watching him snatch the pen from JJ’s fingers. 

“Well, maybe not until today.” The blonde taunted as Pope fiddled with the device, eyeing it for a few moments.

“What is that gonna help?” Kie criticized as he contemplated.

“...I lost my scholarship. Walked out in the middle of the interview. It’s gone, it’s not gonna happen.” He told you three sadly. 

“You did that for us?” Kiara asked him, face falling.

“No. Not for us.” He corrected, standing from his seat as you replaced his absence next to JJ, leaning your head on his shoulder. “For nothing.”

“Pope-”

“Just let it go, Kie.” You sighed, the girl turning to you. You hadn’t spoken much since you heard the gunshot in the woods, concerned for John B’s well-being and heartbroken about the gold, and everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. “He’s right. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

The air around you all went silent, Pope taking a hit of the pen as Kiara silently judged him. You and JJ sat in silence, a comfort shared between the two of you, taking the feeling where you could get it. That was until you heard slow footsteps behind you, heads shooting up to find John B coming around the corner.

You launched yourself out of your seat, running into the boy and dragging him into a hug he didn’t return, the other three following suit. Releasing him, you all took immediate notice of the crimson color decorating his shirt and hands. 

It looked half-dried, taking on a color resembling rust or dried tomatoes. It completely coated his hands, even the webs between his fingers.

“...Whose blood is that?” 

“JOHN B, WHAT ARE WE DOING AT THE POLICE STATION?” JJ asked as Kiara pulled up next to the Kildare County Sheriff’s Station. It was night time now and the sun had set hours ago. John B had wasted sunlight explaining to the four of you what went down on the tarmac. According to your friend, Rafe had shot and killed Sheriff Peterkin while she was in the middle of arresting Ward Cameron.

“Somebody has to tell them what happened.” The boy in question replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, right before Pope broke out into a coughing fit, perfectly rolled joint still clutched between his fingers. He hadn't let up on the weed since taking his first hit at the junkyard.

“Easy there, Chief.” JJ advised from his place next to you in the trunk of the car, John B and Pope in the back seat while Kiara drove. Then the blonde’s attention was on John B. “I’m just gonna be real with you, right now. You might end up in the lion’s den, but you don’t go there on purpose. You should never trust cops, no matter the circumstance.”

“He’s right, John B.” You pitched in. “You gave the compass to Peterkin and somehow it ended up with Ward. Who knows how many dirty cops are littering that station right now.”

“I agree.” Pope added in. “Fuck the police.”

“You’re going to the dark side now?” Kiara judged.

“When’s the last time the police helped us?” Pope argued back, leaning forward.

“Peterkin looked out for me, alright?” John B finally spoke out after moments of silence, looking at all of you with pleading eyes. “Tried to, at least. They need to know.” He declared before giving you all one last parting look and leaving the car to go into the station and tell the precinct that the Sheriff was dead. And that Rafe Cameron had killed her.

“...How did we get here, you guys?” Kiara spoke, looking at no one in particular. She sounded sad and far away, hands clutching the steering wheel.

“Greed?” You offered, shrugging your shoulders. “A part of me regrets not leaving this alone the moment we found out the boat was Scooter’s and that he was dead. But once we found that compass, there was no stopping.”

“Well, I don’t regret any of it.” JJ piped up, leaning over the backseat, over Pope’s shoulder. “What’s this pity party y’all are throwin’? We found the fucking gold.” He laughed out triumphantly. “And yeah we got screwed but we’re gonna get it back.”

The three of you pondered on his words, more like the two of you considering Pope was getting higher than the Empire State Building. Maybe JJ had a point. But you couldn’t think too much longer when John B came barrelling back into the vehicle. 

“Kie! Start the car!” 

“What did you do?” She asked, fear written all across her face as she switched gears, two officers coming up on the vehicle and attempting to open John B’s door. 

“Kie, just drive!” He commanded, the car speeding down the dirt path. 

One of the deputy’s refused to admit defeat, running along the car with her hand still on the handle. “Pull over!” She shouted through the window, banging her free palm against the glass.

“Open it!” Pope ordered from John B’s side. JB looked side to side in confusion before doing as the intoxicated boy said, opening the door and effectively sending the deputy tumbling on her feet and leaving her behind as Kiara kept driving. 

“What the hell was that?” You asked incredulously, looking out the back windshield as the two officers disappeared out of sight. But the boy didn’t answer, just looked straight ahead with his lips slightly parted. You reached over the seat, shaking his shoulder. “Hey, John B, what the hell was that?”

“...They think I killed Peterkin.” 

IT WAS MORNING NOW AND THE FIVE OF YOU HAD BEEN RUNNING FROM THE COPS ALL NIGHT. There was nowhere for John B to go. The Chateau was no doubt flooded with cops, JJ’s house was just as unsafe, Pope’s parents were mad enough at their son as is, Kiara’s parents would shun him at the door, and you weren’t even sure if your home was your home anymore. 

You all were camped out in Kiara’s car on the side of a windy road, camouflaged by the plethora of trees. The Kildare County AM Radio Show playing as you all sat in exhausted silence, seats reclined in uncomfortable positions as you all attempted to get some rest and hide from passing cars. 

“...And good news for the residents of the Outer Banks. Dominion Power says their underwater transmission line, which will restore power to ninety-percent of the city, should be functional within the next twenty-four hours.”

The host exclaimed as you and JJ nearly jumped when police sirens were heard over the station, two police cars zooming down the road and right past the car you were all hiding in. You let out a breath of relief, letting yourself fall back into the seat. 

“..And still no arrest in the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from-” The rest of whatever the radio host was going to say was cut off when Kiara turned the radio off entirely. 

“...So, Yucatan it is?” JJ started the conversation.

“Enough with the Mexico bullshit.” John B cringed, rolling his eyes.

“I’m just being realistic here. Who are the cops going to believe? Lord Cameron or us?” He spat out, irritated.

“Sarah will bail me out, okay? She’ll come through.” 

“She did witness everything…” Kiara supported the brunette’s ideology. You just scoffed, yawning and rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes.

“If you two believe that Sarah will turn her dad or brother over to the cops, you are beyond delusional.” You threw out.

“Thank you.” Pope agreed. 

“We gotta get you off the island.” JJ spoke his mind, sparking up a blunt and shifting to lean on his shoulder.

“The ferry’s his only option.” Pope informed. 

“That's do-able, right? Dude, you gotta dip before the entire island’s on lockdown.” JJ told his best friend as you all ducked once more as three more police cars sped by, only rising slowly once the sound of sirens was gone.

“Look, Sarah’s not a Pogue, JB.” You offered the boy a reality check. “She’s not one of us and you can’t rely on her to save you. You gotta think about you.”

“SO, BAD NEWS.” Pope threw his hands out, looking around nervously while also trying to act normal as he walked back to the car. You all were parked at The Ferry dock with John B reclined fully inside the car to remain out of sight. “The Ferry’s closed and there’s this…” He spoke through the rolled down window from outside of the car, passing a paper inside for the rest of us to see.

“...Shit.” Kiara cursed, passing the paper back for the remaining three of you to see. JJ took it as you leaned over his shoulder, you being the only one in the trunk now since Pope took over driving and JJ moved to sit next to JB. 

“Twenty-five thousand?!” You exclaimed, eyes wide as you read the ‘WANTED’ poster for John B. His picture and all listed on the sheet. JJ was quick to turn around a throw a palm over your mouth, instructing you to ‘shh’ before slowly removing the hand. “Sorry. But twenty-five thousand dollars on your head?” You directed at JB.

“Congrats, Bree. You’re famous.” JJ said sarcastically, annoyance seeping through his voice.

“So, the whole island’s looking for John B.” Pope sighed, drawing his lips into a thin line, getting into the driver's seat.

“Guys, we can get to the HMS Pogue. It’s small, no running lights-” Kiara started before JB cut her off, little emotion left in him.

“It’s at The Chateau, Kie.” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling of the vehicle. “The cops are probably staked out at every corner.” 

“JJ.” Pope perked up, almost giving himself whiplash as he turned around to face the blonde in the backseat. “Does your dad still have that boat? The cigarette boat, The Phantom. The one he used to race.”

“Maybe.” The boy in question replied simply, face void of any emotion. 

“Okay, then. We could get it up to the coast, no problem.” Pope said, turning back around and putting his hands on the wheel.

“It won’t be easy, Pope.” JJ advised. “I don’t even know where the keys are.”

“Well, find them.” The curly-haired boy spat out, jittering in the driver’s seat. “Why is nobody moving forward?” He motioned for the line of cars in front of him.

“Should he be driving?...” You threw the question out, noting his behavior and the amount of weed he’d consumed in the last couple of hours. “Pope, buddy, I don’t think you should be driving.”

“Kie.” John B craned his neck to look at the girl in the passenger seat. “Your car is on the poster.” Nobody could say anything before Pope started rapidly honking the horn.

“Hellooo? Can we move it?” He urged. “Come on!”

“Pope!” Kie tried to grab the male’s attention. “Don’t honk the horn! Jesus…”

“Mom, look! It’s that guy! Right there!” Some blonde little shit standing in the grass pointed at the car you were all hiding in, his squeaky voice traveling through the rolled down window. “We get twenty-five thousand if we find him!”

The kids excitement started to draw other civilians attention, the car soon surrounded by curious eyes. One man had the nerve to bang against one of the back windows, smiling as he pointed at John B’s flattened figure inside of the car. You banged back on the glass, startling the middle aged man before yelling at him to ‘back the fuck up’.

“We gotta go. Pope, turn the car on.” Kiara demanded. “Pope, turn the fucking car on!”

“I’m trying!” He protested, fighting with the ignition key. When he finally succeeded, the car flew forward, hitting the back bumper of the car in front of you all. You all shouted at the boy to back up but he just continued driving forward, pushing the car in front of him before swerving to the side and into the grass.

He managed to drive away from the scene and onto the main road, not getting far before he was swerving back into the grass, sending a mailbox flying into the air in pieces. The four of you gripped onto the seats and safety handles for dear life as Pope cheered in the driver’s seat.

“I am livin’ my best life right now!” He hollered with the biggest smile of his face, right before he hit another mailbox, the impact sending you all forward, your forehead coming into hard contact with the back of JJ’s head.

“Ow! Dammit! Pope, pull over!” You screeched from the back seat. He did as you said, bringing the SUV to a complete stop, making the car jerk. Kiara turned in the passenger seat to look at John B.

“You, get out.”

“What?” He looked bewildered at the suggestion.

“We’ll draw the cops while you run. Get out!” She commanded, John B turning to JJ as the blonde spoke quickly.

“I’ll get the boat and we’ll meet in the dump tomorrow, okay? Three o’clock.” 

“Yeah.” John B confirmed, nodding as he barrel-rolled out of the car, running through the field and into the woods.

“Three tomorrow at the dump!” 

“YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?” JJ piped up, getting out of the car with Pope as you and Kiara followed suit, the SUV that was parked on the side of Tannyhill, just out of sight. Kie had taken the wheel back after it was clear Pope was far too impaired to drive. It was nighttime once again, the chaos causing the hours to tick by.

“She’s the only one who can clear John B.” The brown-haired girl told him simply, getting ready to climb the fence with you next to her, flashlight in her hand with yours clutched between your teeth. “I have a plan.” She muttered, you all landing in the grass and marching through the yard.

“I can do a plan. Plan, plan. Can totally do a plan.” Pope spoke nonsense, the smile never leaving his face as Kiara turned around to face him, irritated and annoyed.

“Can you handle a plan, right now?’ She criticized.

“Of course.” Pope brushed off, dismissing the girl's concerns. “I’m Mister Plan-o-matic.” He assured before breaking out into a rap, a terribly bad, off-beat, and loud rap. You couldn’t contain your laughter, almost snorting at the random action before Kie shot you a look, wiping the smile off of your face as you tried to hold in the laughter.

“I’m sorry. It’s not funny.” You lied, turning to Pope. “Pope.” You whisper-shouted in his direction. “Let’s…save the freestyle for later.” You suggested, a small smile on your face as he quieted down.

“This is a quiet plan.” She talked to him like a baby while you and JJ stood off to the side, watching as she put her pointer finger against his lips. “Okay?” She asked, receiving an absentminded nod from the male in response to which she retracted her finger slowly.

“...I love you, Kie.” Pope said when the girl moved her hand, both you and JJ’s jaw dropping simultaneously.

“What?” Was all the girl offered in response, sighing. Ouch.

“I’m in love with you.” The intoxicated boy clarified, JJ scratching his head and turning away while you stared at the flowers and trees like they were the most interesting things in the world.

“You’re… wasted.” She dismissed his confession, disgust written all over her face as she turned around with the intention to keep walking before Pope pulled her back gently by the wrist.

“I know I’m wasted and that’s why I’m saying this now.” He tried again. “I really feel like this. I love you. I’ve been meaning to tell you-”

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” She cut him off angrily.  Pope look stunned, hurt.

“...I’m trying to tell you how I feel-”

“And that’s very sweet, but it’s not gonna happen.” She stated softly but firmly. In his incapacitated state, he took the rejection lightly, a small smile edging it’s way on his face as he scoffed.

“Okay, well, why not?” He asked. “Is it the no pogue-on-pogue macking rule? Because it doesn’t make sense and no one follows it–”

“Look, I want something different.” She blurted, throwing her shoulders up. “I wanna go to Anarctica, I want to ride camels-”

“And I want to do those things with you-”

“No, Pope, it’s not gonna work!” She told the boy, louder than intended as she looked around before looking at him. “It’s not gonna happen...” She said, finality in her voice as Pope’s face fully fell this time, the rejection settling in. Even from your place, several feet away, you could see the tears welling in the boy’s eyes.

“...We should probably get on with the plan now.” You broke up the interaction, figuring someone should step in and lead the group back on the right track. They both agreed, being the first two to walk off, leaving you and JJ stranded in silence.

“I had no idea he felt that way about her.” You said shocked, blinking rapidly. “I mean, I had a hunch but, man.”

“Girls never know when guys like them.” The blonde said from beside you, your face twisting. “Poor Pope.”

“That is so not true.” You disputed as you both started walking after the other two. “Guys are the most oblivious creatures ever.” You told him,

“You're literally a walking demonstration.” JJ threw out humorously, an immediate look of regret on his face.

“What does that mean?” You asked, looking at the boy curiously.

“Nothing. Forget it.” He waved you off, you both bickering quietly as you walked further into the yard.

Catching up to Kiara and Pope, the girl in question explained that JJ and Pope would create a distraction down in the yard so you and her could sneak up to Sarah’s window. 

So, you were walking around the house you hadn’t visited in months while JJ and Pope were left behind, hopefully concocting a good enough plan to distract whoever else might be in the house.

“Hey,” Kiara whispered, pausing in front of you. “Do you think I was too harsh back there? With Pope?” 

“Honestly?” You started, moving your mouth around before you spoke. “Kind of. It’s okay if you don’t feel that way about him and I get your frustration with everything going but rejection hurts. No matter which way you say it. And he’s high, so it probably hurt a little more.” was your honest truth for the girl.

She simply nodded, looking down before the two of you quietly climbed the balcony stairs up to Sarah’s window. You both crouched out of sight in front of the window, the curtains drawn open allowing you to see the blonde girl’s reflection in her mirror.

Her room looked just the same as it did all those months ago. You didn't expect much to change, it was just an odd observation, you guessed.

Kiara knocked on the glass lightly, just enough to gain Sarah’s attention, the girl approaching the window with a smile before trying to open it and failing. The window wouldn’t budge, even when Kiara tried to help from the opposite side.

The curly-haired girl simply sighed before deciding to pull the wanted poster from her pocket, holding it up for Sarah to read. “Were you in on it?” Kiara asked, their voices still able to travel through the glass, slightly muffled.

“Did you think I was?” Sarah asked, tucking her hair behind her ears. Kie contemplated, shrugging as if to say ‘I don’t know’ before ultimately settling on her answer.

“No.” Then Sarah’s pitiful eyes were turning to you, eyes you tried desperately to avoid. She called your name, drawing your attention.

“...I’m sorry.” Was the first thing she said, her eyes filling with tears. “I believe you. About Rafe. I didn’t think he could do something like that and I was just protecting my brother. But he…he’s worse than I thought. I wasn’t a good friend to you then. But I’ll be a better one now.” She smiled smally.

You didn’t realize there were tears in your own eyes until one traveled down each cheek. You quickly wiped the evidence away before attempting to shrug nonchalantly. “...Thanks, I guess.” You mumbled, looking up at the girl through your lashes, smiles breaking out on both of your faces as Kie looked between you both with a motherly pout.

The moment was ruined when Ward’s voice boomed from inside the house, calling out for Sarah. The girl inside jumped, whispering for the both of you to go. The two of you did as she said, fleeing the back yard as fast as you could, trying not to trip down the balcony steps. 

You both bolted through the backyard, making note of the smoke coming from the grill on the patio before hopping over the fence and heading straight for Kie’s car where Pope and JJ were already camped out and waiting. Jumping in, Kiara started the vehicle and sped off, hiding between the streets of Figure Eight. 

“Did you idiots set the grill on fire?” Kiara asked as she drove down the dark streets, you and her up front while JJ and Pope rode in the back.

“No,” Pope drug out. “It was a pillow that I set on fire on top of the grill. I think I singed my hairline…”

The girl couldn’t help but sigh, turning onto a fairly empty street. You just stared ahead out of the windshield, remaining silent. “What’s wrong?” Kiara questioned you, looking between the side of your face and the road.

“Nothing, it’s just…I didn’t expect her to apologize.” You muttered, looking at your fingers while you played with your nails. You never thought you'd feel anything but hate for Sarah after what happened. But after all, you were a teenage girl — maybe all you ever wanted was a real apology.

“I thought you guys made up on the boat…” Pope slurred sadly, disappointed that his plan hadn’t actually worked.

“Okay, now that we’re like part-time fugitives and our futures are on the line, I feel like we should throw everything out into the open here, full transparency. Kie already told us why she hated her guts.” JJ suggested from the backseat, behind Kie. You looked back at him as he spoke. “What happened between you two?”

You looked to Kiara for confirmation, confused on when she gave the guys the scoop on her ‘Sarah situation’. She just shrugged. “I told them a couple days after they left us on the boat. Figured it was over with so, why not.”

You let out a hum, taking a deep breath before turning back to JJ. “When I first moved to Figure Eight, I was going through a lot. It was right after my dad’s death, I was moving away from the only home I ever knew, and I didn’t fit in with the Kook kids. Kiara was my only friend on Figure Eight and she took me under her wing, even though I didn’t fully expect her to because she was in her own Kook bubble and hadn’t talked to us for weeks at that point.” You explained, leaning on the center console.

“Falling in with that crowd was the worst thing that could’ve happened to me. Late night house parties, drunk driving, just… stupid rich kid shit. But Sarah, Kie, and I were like a trio of our own. Sarah had us over at Tannyhill almost every weekend, that's why we weren’t hanging out with you guys as much…One night, when we’re staying at Sarah’s, I was having trouble sleeping because of my nightmares, I had been for weeks at that point. Months. So, while Kie and Sarah were asleep, I went downstairs to get some water, clear my mind. But I wasn’t the only one awake. I ran into Rafe in the kitchen…”

The car was quiet, the only sound being the tires against the road and the wind whipping by considering the windows were halfway rolled down. “He was surprisingly…caring. Asked why I was awake, if I was okay, and offered to talk. He let me vent and cry to him for hours, something I thought I’d never do in a million years. And I think I just got caught in the comfort of it all and I kissed him. I pulled away right after and apologized but he said it was fine…and then he kissed me again. I knew it wrong and I’m sure he did, too. Not only was he the brother of one of my best friends but I was fifteen and he had just graduated. But that didn’t stop him from leading me up to his room and locking the door.”

“...You slept with Rafe?” JJ asked, hurt. 

“For months.” You replied honestly and shamefully. “I never meant for it to go that far. I had no feelings for him and I made that clear. He was a coke head, a general asshole, and just not the kind of guy I would ever want a serious relationship with. We’d just sneak around and hook up. No strings attached, was what I told him. But I guess he still felt like he had some kind of… claim over me.” You explained. “The three of us were at some house party one night and Rafe showed up with Topper and Kelce. I was flirting with some guy and Rafe just got angry, stomped over to me and yanked me by the arm all the way out of the front door and into his truck.”

Your voice started to shake, no longer able to maintain eye contact with JJ. “He just started yelling, calling me all types of names and when I tried to get out of the car he grabbed me by the neck and basically flung me into the backseat. He rap-mmph...” You cringed at your own words, not able to say what you wanted. The idea of the word leaving your lips made your stomach turn. “...He took advantage of me that night, right in front of the house,even drove me home after like nothing happened, like I wasn’t shaking and crying in the passenger seat, watching the blood leak from between my thighs. That was the last time I had seen him, up until the golf course. I told Sarah the next day, that following morning. I felt like I should, I mean it was her brother but she was my friend on top of that. But she didn't believe me. She called me a liar, told me he would never go that far and that she knew I’d been sneaking around with him and that I was trying to turn the situation into something it wasn't. Next thing I know, Rafe is making me out to be the island slut and Sarah is right behind him, laughing at the rumors.”

“Why didn't you tell us?” Pope broke the silence, sounding like he was on the verge of tears himself.

“If his own sister didn't believe me, I didn't think any of you would either. I didn't want to keep reliving it by telling you guys. I just wanted to forget any of it ever happened.”

“I’m gonna kill him.” JJ shook his head angrily, looking out the window as he bit his lip, his right hand curled into a fist. “This is what I mean. Kooks get away with whatever the fuck they want-”

“JJ, it happened months ago-”

“So what?” He shot back, turning to you with tears in his waterline. “I don't care how long ago it was. You didn't deserve that. He raped you, he hurt you and he gets to walk around like nothing happened. How are you okay with that?”

“I’m not okay with it.” You told him firmly, voice watery and upset. “I will never be okay with it, JJ. But that’s just the way it is. I can't do anything to change it now. Believe me, I wish I could do more but I can’t. None of us can.” The car fell silent, JJ shaking his head and looking out of the window angrily. You pondered on what you said, wondering if you should've said anything at all until a pressing thought entered your mind. “Kie! Stop the car,” You commanded, the SUV screeching to a halt as she looked at you. “I need to make pit stop. And no, it can’t wait.”

“HERE. I HOPE IT’S COOL ENOUGH TO DRINK.” You handed the blonde mug of hot chocolate, the two of you sitting at a table in The Wreck, blankets draped over your shoulders with the sound of Kie and Pope’s snoring filling the silence. You’d drove around Figure Eight, police at every corner until the four of you decided to call it quits and camp out somewhere safe. 

Well, not before you snuck back into your house and retrieved Marley, the dog taking up space in the backseat between the two boys, never giving JJ a break as she practically curled up in his lap the whole ride to The Wreck.

Surprisingly, The Wreck was the safest place at the moment. The sky was dark, the stars still visible through the plethora of windows that littered the small restaurant.

“I think you need it more than me.” He said, sliding the drink he’d requested over to you. You shook your head, pushing the mug back in his direction.

“Don’t do that.” You said exhaustedly. “Don’t start treating me differently because you know what happened. That’s the worst thing you could do.”

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“You can look out for me by drinking that hot chocolate that I burned myself making.” You smiled tiredly, the blonde returning the gesture and taking the ceramic object between both hands, sipping slowly.

“Can I ask you somethin’ though?” He asked your permission, looking up at him through your lashes with tired eyes. You nodded, prompting him to continue. “I’m still lost on how you know Barry. I was gonna ask in the car but the conversation took a left…”

You sighed, hand coming up to palm the back of neck as you tugged the blanket closer to you, licking your lips. “Sometimes, when I’d ride around with Rafe, he would take me with him to buy coke. I don’t know why, he just would. I went into the trailer with him once, too hot to sit in the car. I guess Barry took one look at me and the bags under my eyes and wanted to reel himself in a new client. He offered me some pills. Something he’d made himself, a mix of Ambien and Xanax, said it’d help me sleep and so, I took it. Who knows if it was even safe…” You explained shamefully, shifting in your seat and looking back to make sure Kiara and Pope were still fast asleep.

“...I never had enough of my own money to keep buying it, so Rafe would buy it for me. That’s why Barry called me that stupid nickname, it’s what he would write down in his books. It got to a point where I felt like I needed the pills to even just take a nap when I wanted to or when I just wanted to feel good. It made me have less nightmares, feel less anxious throughout the day. But when I cut off Rafe, the drugs went with him. I walked around high for half of the summer and no one ever noticed.”

“...I can’t imagine that.”

“Neither can I, looking back on it. It’s not something I’m proud of but I’m better now.”

“You didn’t have to go through all of that alone. You could have come to us.” You just scoffed, leaning on the table as he traced the rim of his coffee mug.

“I didn’t even think you guys wanted to talk to me. Me and Kiara basically blew you guys for months for some Kooks who kicked us to the dirt.”

“And we took you back in when you came back. You’re a pogue. We’ll always be here, at least I will.” He chuckled, sipping more of his beverage.

“And I love you for that. Honestly.” The blonde’s blue eyes went wide at the beginning of your statement, as if he was about to spit out his drink until it calmed as you went on. You pondered on his initial reaction before deciding to let it go.

“...And I’m sorry. For not noticing. Someone should have. One of us should have, we’re your friends.”

“Don’t be sorry. It was my mistake, not yours.” You refuted his condolences, waving your hand dismissively. “Besides, our problems have gotten a lot bigger.”

“Who are you tellin’?” He chuckled under his breath, the two of your sharing a fit of sleepy laughter.

“...and J?” You perked up, laughing dying in your throat. He hummed in response. “If you could keep this between us… The Barry thing-”

“Don’t worry about it.” He interrupted you reassuringly, mimicking a zipper on his lips. “My lips are sealed. I promise you.” You simply nodded with a small smile on your lips as you curled up in the dining chair, cocooning yourself in the blanket. You felt a tingling sensation in your stomach before you drifted off that you couldn’t quite place.

“AND THE MANHUNT FOR EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD JOHN BOOKER ROUTLEDGE CONTINUES after he allegedly shot and killed Sheriff Susan Peterkin on a private airstrip after a heated altercation. There have been multiple reported sightings of the boy in the Figure Eight area…” The news played from the small radio box as you all scattered around The Wreck, the sun casting an orange hue over the restaurant.

It was early the next morning and still no word from John B. You hoped he was okay and would still be able to follow through with the plan.  You’d woken up on a bench inside of the restaurant, laid down and tucked in with pillow under your head. You couldn’t quite remember if you’d done that yourself.

“Is that gonna be enough food for them?” Kiara asked, grabbing edible items from the cabinets inside The Wreck as you and JJ bagged them.

“I mean, for a couple weeks that’s all they need, so…” JJ replied, eyeing the items inside of the paper bag.

“...I think I actually hurt his feelings.” She spoke despondently, referring to Pope. You and JJ grabbed the two wooden crates full of snacks and ready-to-eat meals and followed the girl through the back of the restaurant.

“Maybe he was too high to remember what happened.” You threw out, watching your step as to not fall with the large bin obstructing your view.

“I hate to admit it but I miss the old Pope. At least I knew what to expect from him-” She was cut off when Mrs. Carrera stormed towards her daughter, you and JJ stacking the crates into the trunk of the SUV.

“Where have you been?” The older woman demanded to know, throwing her arms out for them to land on her hips.

“I’m..fine. I slept here.” Kiara replied, perplexed as to what her mother’s issue could’ve been.

“Well, we were up half the night scared to death, lookin’ for you.” She told her child before looking past her and at you. “And your mother has been looking for you for days. When’s the last time you been home?” You simply didn’t reply, not wanting to disrespect Mrs. Carrera with the anger that surged at the mention of your mother. “Were you even gonna tell us where you were?”

“I’m telling you right now.” Kiara said simply, tucking her waves behind her ear.

“What the hell are you three up to?” She looked between the trio of you as you and JJ stood on either side of Kiara after loading the groceries into the trunk.

“Sorry, Miss Anna, but we have to go.” You told the older woman sadly. "Also, could you feed my dog? She's inside..." You requested sheepishly.

“Sorry…” Kie muttered, walking forward as you and JJ got into the car.

“No, absolutely not.” Mrs. Carrera blocked Kie’s path. “Have you heard what’s going on? Have you seen the storm that coming? This is not safe, Kiara!” She told her daughter as if she was crazy. 

“Mom, I’m sorry, I have to go…” Kie’s voice wavered as she lowered herself into the driver’s seat next to you with JJ in the back.

“These cops are armed, Kiara. They will shoot you, I am not letting you do this!”

“Mom, John B needs me!” She shouted, pointing at herself and shutting the door. “I understand, I’ll be careful!” She continued through the glass. Her mom never stopped, begging for her daughter to get out of the car and go with the safer option. Kie just apologized over and over, switching gears and driving away.

THE SUV PULLED TO A STOP IN FRONT OF THE MAYBANK RESIDENCE. You turned around to face JJ from your place in the passenger seat.

“Home sweet home.” He proclaimed sadly, his eyes teary and face red. You couldn’t help but pout, watching as he pushed the car door open and got out. Seconds later, you followed suit — unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out. “What’re you doin’?” The blonde questioned you as you dusted yourself off.

You just shrugged and looked at him, jutting your bottom lip out. “I’m going with you.” He was quick to shake his head, his hands on both your shoulders as he pushed you back towards the car.

“No, no, no. No, you’re not.” He refused your assistance. “Get back in the car.”

You simply brushed his hands off of your shoulders, walking past him. “No. C’mon-” Suddenly, you were being pulled back by your wrist, facing the boy once more.

“I’m not lettin’ you go in there. It will only take a second, just get back in the car, please.” He was pleading with you but his eyes wouldn’t work this time.

“It only took him a second to do what he did to you.” You refuted, pulling your wrist out of his grasp gently. “So, I’m going with you. And we don’t have time to argue because we need to meet John B.” Was all you said before turning around and continuing to walk towards the front door of the house. 

You told him he’d never be alone with his father again and you meant it. The blonde reluctantly followed behind you, his heavy boots not making his appearance known for once as you both tip-toed into the house, the door creaking as you did.

The floor stuck to the soles of your shoes as you both crept into the house. It was a mess — flies buzzing around the dishes piled in the sink, shoes far too large to be JJ’s scattered across the floor, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol lingering in the air.

JJ immediately spotted his father, sprawled out on the couch and snoring loudly, a half-drunken bottle of whiskey behind him. His son walked over to him slowly, eyeing his father with caution.

“...Dad, I need the keys to the Phantom.” He spoke to his father’s sleeping figure as you stood feet away, watching the interaction happen. The older man didn’t wake up, his snoring fit just getting louder. “Dad?’ He tried again to no avail, eyebrows twisting as noticed the male’s unusually deep slumber. 

He looked around, blue eyes landing on an empty pill bottle on the coffee table.

“What is it?” You asked from your place a few feet away.

“...Ambien.” He said despondently, a undertone of anger seeping through. Neither of you said anything else about it, JJ putting the pill bottle back down and turning back to his father, spotting the keys dangling from the chain around his neck.

Grabbing a pencil and an exact-o knife, he knelt next to the middle-aged man, gulping harshly as he did so. You could see the fear bubbling within him, whether it was the tears in his eyes or the way his hands shook. Luke’s eyed edged open just as JJ was lowering the tools, the boy freezing in place.

“...I didn’t expect to see you.” Luke rasped, you immediately put one foot forward in case something were to happen. But he seemed calm. Tamed… “School out already?” He questioned, the first thing the man reached for in post-sleep daze being the open beer on the coffee table.

JJ’s face twisted in on itself, his fearful teary eyes filling with confusion. “What?”

“Did you ditch?” His father coughed, JJ’s blue eyes quickly fleeting in your direction for some kind of reassurance. Security. “You can tell me if you did.” The older man smiled drunkenly, laughing. JJ’s expression softened in the slightest and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding as he replied.

“Yeah… yeah, I did. Hit the break, y’know.” He shrugged, feigning carelessness. Luke just laughed, struggling to stand from the couch in his disorientation.

“I hated school, too. My boy!” He cheered, slapping a wobbly hand on JJ’s shoulder in congratulations and in order to stabilize himself most likely. Your hand clutched the doorframe, biting the inside of your lip now knowing how quickly the older man’s switch could flip. “Look, I know I’m hard on you sometimes…But sometimes, I-I see your mother in you and it gets me a little tweaked, y’know?”

All JJ could do was stare down at his feet, biting his bottom lip in an attempt to will the tears brewing in his eyes to subside. “You’re a good boy.” Luke proclaimed, smiling at his son. You didn’t know if he was drunk or possibly having a moment of clarity. “And I love you, son.” He told JJ, pulling the blonde into a tight hug, patting him on the back.

JJ’s eyes met your own over his father’s shoulder — blue eyes surrounded by trails of red, tears making his pupils shine. What bothered you the most was the fact that he didn’t blink. For the entirety of the hug, which was long enough, JJ didn’t blink, not once. You could only wonder what was going through his head.

“...Love you, too, Dad.” He said, strained. But his expression remained all the same. But his voice made it seem as if the words he spoke brought him physical pain. Luke’s arms fell as the delirious man practically collapsed onto the sofa, losing consciousness once again. JJ’s face was flushed, tears trails shining as he yanked the dog tag with the keys from around his father’s neck and took swift steps in your direction, attempting to brush past you and leave the house until you gripped his upper arm.

“JJ-”

“This?” He cut you off harshly, whipping his head in your direction as he sniffled his feelings away. “This is why I wanted you to stay in the car.” He said, expression softening as he gently pulled himself out your grip and left the house.

“THERE SHE BE…” JJ gawked as he pushed open the garage door, revealing a large, pristine boat in the middle of the room. He was in a significantly brighter mood since you’d left his house, you refusing to let him wallow in his mild-anger towards you and riding in the backseat with him. You were surprised when he let you take hold of his balled fists, whispering your apology into his ear as he simply nodded and hummed. You didn’t miss the way Kiara kept glancing at you both through the rearview mirror.

“The Phantom.” He bragged, dragging his hands against the exterior as you and Kie stood by, letting him ramble and gloat. He needed something good right now. “A 1983 Formula 402 SR1 — the first boat to make the run to Bermuda in under sixteen hours.” 

“...It’s kind of a junker.” Kiara said unimpressed, staring blankly at the blonde.

“Really? She’s right there, Kie.” JJ reprimanded. “She can hear you. You would not be smokin’ weed right now if she never existed.”

“Let’s just hope she runs.” You butted in, leaning against the boat, not too far from JJ. 

“She’ll run alright.” JJ spoke in confidence, winding up a wire under the boat. Tires screeched against the concrete outside and Kiara threw her hands up in the air.

“That’s Pope. Finally!” She cheered, skipping towards the garage exit when Rafe’s frame rounded the corner, your back straightening and eyes going wide as you both locked eyes. 

“Hey there,” The boy breathed out, taking steps closer as Kiara retreated slowly, her hands balled into nervous fists. “What’s goin’ on? How you guys doin’?” Then a wolf-whistle was heard from behind you, the three of  you whipping your gazes around to find Barry entering the garage, his signature smirk adorning his features.

“Well, well…” He drawled, getting closer to JJ until he was close to pull a gun on him. A small gasp leaving your lips as JJ threw his hands up and Rafe made his way right next to Barry. “See, don’t think I forgot about me and you on the side of the road. I’m here because I want… my mothafuckin’ money!” He yelled before kneeing JJ in the abdomen, making the blonde curl in on himself.

“Barry!” You protested, immediately grabbing JJ and attempting to push the drug dealer away with your free hand. It was to no avail, however, when two strong arms wound around your waist and picked you up from behind. And unless Kiara had suddenly hit the gym, you knew exactly who it was and that knowledge sent you into a frenzy. “Get your fucking hands off me, Rafe!”

You kicked wildly as the boy drug you farther and farther away, watching helplessly as Barry beat on JJ and Kiara laid on the garage floor, holding her now visibly bruised knee.

“It’s not you we want, sunshine.” Rafe assured, setting you to your feet in a corner and gripping your shoulders. “Where’s John B?”

“I’m not telling you shit!” You spat nastily, pushing the man away from you with all the strength you could collect. 

“I really wish you didn’t do that…” He spoke menacingly.

“I don’t care.” You spoke, voice wavering as you struggled to get your eyes to leave his. But you felt as if you needed to watch his every move — the ways his fingers twitched, the way his eyes squinted, the vein that was popping on his forehead. “I know what you did.” You provoked. “You killed Peterkin.”

You don’t know exactly what you were hoping to achieve by saying it but you instantly regretting when you saw the way his face morphed — the flare of his nostrils as he inhaled deeply, the clench of his jaw. So hard it made his head shake in the slightest of motions before his hand went around your throat, squeezing tightly.

“Don’t you ever let me hear you say those fucking words again.” Your hands grabbed his forearm as you gasped for air, the sounds of Barry kicking JJ and Kiara yelling out becoming muffled audio in your ears. “You got that?” He questioned, your own eyes drifting to the figure appearing behind him holding a weapon up. “You got that?!” The Cameron boy shook you before yelling out in pain as Pope hit him in the back of his knees with what seemed to be a metal pipe.

Rafe’s grip on your throat fell as he did, bent over in pain as Pope struck him again, the metal clanking against his bones. You fought for air to enter your lungs as you watched the boys fight, wondering where Pope learned such coordination as he dodged blow after blow from Rafe before delivering a plethora of his own.

Your attention was stolen when you saw JJ punishing Barry, wondering when he’d gotten the upper hand as a soft hand on your back made you flinch, turning to see Kie. “Are you okay?” She asked, eyes swimming with worry as you nodded. At some point, JJ had managed to incapacitate Barry, leaving the drug dealer on the ground as Rafe and Pope continued to fight.

Truthfully, the fight between them had ended once Pope delivered a nasty blow to Rafe’s temple, rendering the boy disoriented and open for Pope to continue his assault.

“Pope, that’s enough!” Kie yelled, standing back as Pope ignored her. He hit Rafe in his stomach, then his chest, then his face, sending his body spinning away from the boy. 

“Pope!” Kiara tried again.

Rafe was drooling blood, eyes spinning wildly as Pope grabbed a leather rope, wounding the object around the Cameron boy’s neck and pulling tight. Kiara pleaded with Pope to stop, said that he was going too far. But you stood there, not saying anything — eyes focused on the way Rafe choked on his own blood, the way his hands clawed as the machine underneath him, the way his own eyes drifted to yours and seemed to plead for help.

The same yours did all the those months ago.

And in that moment, you started to wonder if you had ever truly gotten over what happened. Or if you ever would. Because, in that moment, you wanted Pope to kill Rafe. And you wanted to watch him do it.

JJ managed to get a hold on Pope, the dark-skinned boy meeting Kie’s eyes and deciding to drop the rope, leaving a heaving Rafe beaten and bloodied on the garage floor. You started to come out of your own haze, eyeing Pope as he looked down at Rafe in terror of what he’d done. What he could’ve done. 

“We… we gotta go.” Kiara stuttered, eyes fleeting between the three of you stood starstruck as Rafe rolled around. She wasted little time in walking back to her SUV, her legs carrying her there as she wobbled from side to side. You and JJ stood back as you watched Pope’s anger rebuild, your friend leaning over the bloody boy and talking lowly. 

“Stay off The Cut.” He warned. “We don’t want you on this side of the island. Any of you.” He threw his words back at him, the same words Rafe had spat at you that day on the Golf Course. 

“DUDE, WHERE IS HE?” Kiara said, a tone of annoyance in her words. We’d arrived at the meeting spot right on time, but John B was no where to be seen. Pope had calmed down significantly since the incident at the garage but you hadn’t spoken since then. The moment playing over and over again in your head. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.

“He’ll be here. Just give him a second.” Pope assured the girl, spots of Rafe’s blood staining his shirt. Police sirens wailed as a squad car pulled up behind you three, lights flashing as they came to a stop. You all tried to remain calm as you anticipated what the police could want now while also praying that John B didn’t pull up just as they’d arrived.

All of your worries went with the wind when John B hopped out of the driver’s side, cutting off the lights and sirens and pulling a backpack up on his shoulders with a semi-solemn look on his face.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” JJ smiled from his place behind the wheel of The Phantom. 

“Shoupe let me take it for a spin.” John B smiled smally, flipping his curls out of his face as he edged closer to the four of you. Kiara was the first to give him a hug, embracing the boy with a giggle as JJ spoke. 

“It wasn’t easy, bro, but I got The Phantom for you.” He said triumphantly, holding up the keys between his fingers and tossing them to John B who caught them between his palms. “You ready to go?” The blonde asked, standing on top of the boat as you all watched John B’s face fall.

“...Where’s Sarah?” 

Kiara looked around, lips pursed in confusion before she spoke. “She’s not with you?” 

“No, no, we got separated in the swamp, she said she was gonna meet me here.” JB panicked, eyes fleeting to the trees surrounding the four of you as if she would appear from between them. “I’m not leaving without her.”

“John B, “ JJ started, kneeling to level his eyes with his best friend’s. “I know you feel bad for leaving but there’s no time, dude.” John B simply clenched his jaw and looked away. “You’ve got plenty of gas, plenty of food. Once you get around that point, it’s a straight shot across the sound to Dismal Swamp, alright? Once you get there, lay low. Hang out for a couple weeks and then go overland, cross the border at Brownsville, you got that? Brownsville.” JJ detailed, hand now firm on JB’s shoulder. 

“...Yeah. Yeah, I got it.” He spoke, staring out into the distance. Snapping back, he got onto the boat as JJ hopped off. It was only then you realized that you’d been standing in the same spot when the three of them — Kiara, Pope, and JJ, had their hands on the rails ready to push the boat into the water.

“Guys?” John B gathered all of your attention. Hands gripping his backpack straps for dear life as his eyes watered. “I’m sorry for basically…throwing us off a cliff with this whole treasure hunt thing.” His voice cracked, the sound snapping you out of your stupor as you felt your face fall. In all of your years of knowing John B, being his friend, being his sister, basically — you’d never heard him so remorseful. So defeated. Not until his dad died and only again at this very moment.

Something willed you to move, carrying your feet closer to your four friends until you were close enough to grab onto the boat rails and haul yourself up next to John B, stabilizing yourself and throwing yourself onto him in a hug that took him a moment to return. You could feel the tears building in your eyes as you buried your face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your dad.” Was the first thing you could think to say, the Routledge boy chuckling sadly in your ear.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about yours.” He returned, patting you on the back. You pulled back from the hug, hands still on his upper arms.

“I’ll finish this.” You nodded sadly, biting your bottom lip as small tears ran down your cheeks. “For the both of us.” John B didn’t say anything, just nodded sadly as well, a pitiful smile on his face. “Stay safe, Bree.” You said in farewell, squeezing his arm and turning away to get off the boat, joining the other three behind the rails.

“Forget all this sad shit, bro.” JJ sniffed, throwing his arms over all three of your shoulders and looking up at John b. “Everything that happened? We did it together, man. Pogue style.” John B laughed breathlessly, eyeing the four of your gratefully, almost like he was trying to commit your faces to memory.

“Pogue style.” He sighed back. 

“Now, get out of here! Please…” Kiara rushed. 

“Yeah, we’ll see you down in Mexico.” Pope pointed, a sad look swimming in his eyes despite his tone.

“Love you.” JJ left the words with his best friend, John B returning the gesture before pausing his walk to the cockpit of the boat. 

“...Tell Sarah I said goodbye, okay?” He choked out, the four of you nodding in agreement. He gave you all a grateful nod before settling into the boat, the rest of you putting in effort you push the boat into the water as the sound of the engine starting up echoed throughout the trees.

You could see the way John B purposefully avoided all of your eyes as he sped off, the boat getting smaller which each passing second as you said goodbye to your friend. 

Once he was out of sight, Pope was the first to turn around, coming face to face with Kiara as you and JJ walked out, their conversation still able to heard.

“You okay?” Kie inquired.

“...I’m sorry for…acting like a dumbass. I was just upset.” He stammered, you and JJ leaning on the car and being nosey. “And I was being petty and-”

“It’s okay.” Kie breathed out, shaking her head. 

“I just wanna be friends again.” Pope admitted, tone exhausted and shoulders dropping as thunder rumbled, the sky darkening within seconds. Kie stood there, looking at Pope’s outstretched hand. But she never shook it. Instead, edging forward and embracing the boy into a hug. Pulling back from the exchange, you didn’t expect her to go in again, this time for a kiss.

You and JJ exchanged looks, you were sure you looked confused but you couldn’t quite read JJ’s expression. Nothing was detectable from his dilated pupils or the way his eyes kept flickering between yours and your lips. And for a brief moment, you found yourself wanting to kiss him. But the thought made your stomach turn so wildly that you had no choice but to look away.

You were just vulnerable right now, you thought to yourself. 

Police sirens appeared out of nowhere, somewhere between three and four squad cars surround the four of you from all angles. Your hands went up as Shoupe and a dozen other officers and FBI agents exited the vehicles, half of them with guns drawn.

“We’re too late, goddamnit!” Shoupe reprimanded himself. “Bratcher, tell your men to stand down.” He directed at the brown skinned man with an FBI jacket on, the man in question motioning for the remaining agents to lower their weapons. “Let me talk to these kids.” Shoupe shook his head defeatedly, approaching you all with hands on his hips. “Alright, where the hell is he?” None of you responded. “Where the hell is he?!”

Still no response. You guessed his next tactic was to try and interrogate you all one by one. “JJ? I see you’re livin’ up to your name.” The blonde simply huffed and shook his head, a small smirk on his lips as he stared straight ahead. “Pope, how ‘bout you?” He tried again. “This isn’t a fuckin’ game! You can do the right thing, right now. Where’d he go?” He yelled in the boys face. Typical, unmedicated Pope would’ve caved under this kind of pressure. But you think the marijuana had left imprint on him somehow as he stood, perfectly composed. 

The four of you stood, wordlessly and stoic. If Shoupe wanted to find John B, he’d have to do it his damn self.

THE SUN HAD GONE DOWN A WHILE AGO. Shoupe had detained the four of you, taking you all to the tent his team and the FBI had set up to overlook to water surrounding the Outer Banks — the lighthouse providing the best outlook, they were just waiting for Dominion Power to restore the power to the city. But you were praying John B had gotten away already, or that he would before that inevitably happened.

The environment gave you a headache — the flood lights, the police lights, the constant ringing of phones, the news vans outside trying desperately to get a word out of you and your friends. But you all remained silent — no word on John B, Sarah, or their whereabouts. 

You were all in direct earshot of the conference table. Hearing dozens of law enforcement agents talk about John B like some internationally wanted serial killer was disheartening. It made you angry.

“Do you think he made it by now?” You whispered in JJ’s direction, the blonde sat on your right with Kie and Pope to your left. Your leg was bouncing nervously against the ground, your fingers fiddling with each other in your lap. JJ’s blue eyes fleeted between your leg and hands before planting a warm hand on your thigh.

“I hope so. But something tells me he went to find her first.” He spoke honestly.

“Her?” You asked, your mind blanking from the stress.

“Sarah.” He replied simply, you nodding and drawing your lips into a thin line. The two of you sat like that for the next few passing moments — in oddly comfortable yet tense silence, JJ’s thumbs absentmindedly drawing circles into your thigh.

The FBI agent that Shoupe had called in had his entire crew on standby, his eyes laser focused on the waters in front of him. It was too dark to see anything beyond a few miles radius, but it still made your heart jump just thinking of the possibility that John B could be out there.

“We need eyes on the other side of The Point.” He snapped at the agent next to him, the man passing on the order. It didn’t seem like a routine command. It was urgent, like he saw something.

You felt a frantic hand shaking your thigh, directing your sights back to JJ whose eyes were focus on everything you all. “Shit. Look,” He jutted his head in the direction of an open end of the tent, bringing your attention to the lights turning back on throughout the island. Section by section until the island was lit up like a Christmas Tree. 

And it seemed like any prayers you’d made all those hours ago never made it up to the man in charge as the one light you hoped would never work again lit up the sea in front of you — The Lighthouse giving every person around you a clear view of the boat you’d all said farewell too just hours prior. 

“That’s them!” Some random deputy yelled out. “There they are!” He pointed, John B and Sarah’s figures, outlined like two deer in headlights as The Phantom waded aimlessly in the water, people crowding around the edge of the grass to see them like some kind of tourist attraction. 

The bald man at the head of this operation now, taking over Shoupe, called in his radio immediately. “Bogey spotted off the lighthouse, running lights out. I think it’s them…”

You didn’t think your heart could drop so far, the feeling cause you to almost dry heave as you gripped JJ’s hand, that was still on your thigh, for dear life. Siren wailed across the waves as two coast guard boats revved up, heading in the direction of The Phantom. Right on time for John B and Sarah to start the engine and speed away, out of the lighthouse’s direct spotlight. But they were still visible. 

Journalists, news anchors, and conspiracy theorists all rushed as if they could run after the boat, watching the chase take place. The crowd formed within your line of vision, making you no longer able to see what was going on. You silently thanked God for it, you weren’t sure if this was going to go as planned anymore.

And you knew this only ended in one of two ways — with John B in jail for life or with the four of you seated right now at another funeral.

You’d forgotten all about the oncoming storm, and all sorts of terrible thoughts filled your mind. Kiara got up from her seat as Pope called her name, the girl attempting to push people out of the way.

“I can’t see. What’s going on? Excuse me. Move out of the way!” She tried, the crowd just regenerating every time. Pope put a hand on her shoulder, turning the girl to face him with tears in her eyes. “We don’t know what’s happening, Pope! Don’t you care about what’s happening?!”

He just nodded, pulling the hysteric girl into him, letting her cry silently on his shoulder. You and JJ just sat in silence, hand in hand. You felt the tears running but didn’t care to wipe them. No version of this scenario played out in your favor. And though you’d never give up John B, what else was there left to do?

The thunder clapped harder and brighter, the ground beneath you trembling in the smallest of motions. The radio on the center of the conference table carrying a digital voice throughout the tent.

“Suspect is attempting to escape south. Our attempts to contact the vessel were unsuccessful. We’re gettin’ hammered here.” The man on the other end of the radio warned, probably hoping his supervisor would tell him to end it, to turn around and let them go. You could only imagine the disappointment when the lead FBI agent spoke back.

“...Hold your position, Captain. I think I’ve got one more card we can play.” 

A sigh came through the radio. “Roger that.”

You couldn’t help sigh yourself, the sound coming out strained and shaky as you closed your eyes and squeezed JJ’s hand tighter. You shook your head side to side, hoping the tears would go away. 

“Hey,” An all too familiar voice came from beside you, opening your eyes to find JJ staring back with tears just waiting to fall. “It’ll be okay-”

“Don’t.” You cut him off immediately, shaking your head and biting your lip. “We both know that’s a lie so please don’t lie to me right now. It’ll just make it a lot harder when…”

“When what?”

“They’re driving them right into the storm, JJ.” You reminded, angrily. But the anger wasn’t directed at him. “We all know what’s bound to happen.” But JJ’s eyes were now stuck where yours had been just seconds prior, following his gaze to find Ward Cameron at the head of the transmitter now, microphone in hand as the FBI agent stood next to him.

You watched as his thumb hit the button on the side. “...John B?” He called, hand shaking as he did so. God, this man was an actor. Putting on the performance of a lifetime. “I know you’re there, son. I know you can hear me.” The audacity, you thought. The audacity of Ward to refer to John B as son, knowing what he’s done. It made you sick. “If you love my daughter like I think you love my daughter, then you will turn that boat around and come back. You are going into a storm that you cannot survive.” He reprimanded.

The words made you wince, more tears falling from your eyes. A mix of premature grief and overwhelming infuriation. This man, this killer, had a team of law enforcement agents behind him while he framed a teenager for murder right before their eyes. 

“John B, I am begging you. Think of her and turn around.” Silence. The entire tent was filled with tense, consuming silence. One part of you wanted John B to remain silent. But the other wanted him to speak, just in case this was the last time you’d ever hear his voice.

“...Ward Cameron, do you hear me?” The static crackled, all four of your ears perking up.

“Yes.” Ward straightened in his seat, feigning relief. “Yes, son, I’m right here.”

“...You killed my father, you killed Owen Carter, and you framed me for a murder I didn’t commit!” John B’s voice bellowed clearly. “You took everything from me!” He cried, the sadness in his voice seeping through the radio. “But I’m still here. And I swear to God, Ward, I will come back one day and take what’s mine.” JB threatened, Ward going rigid in his place. His eyes were wide and anticipating, hand shaking as he seemed to be deep in thought and rage.

“...So, you listen to me, all right?” John B continued. “I’m comin’ for you. I’m coming. For you.” The entire space was filled with that gut-wrenching silence again. Ward had nothing left to say. To these strangers, he probably portrayed as a sullen father who’d just lost his daughter.

But to you, he was manipulative killer who got his kids involved in his world of crime. And sure, maybe he regretted it. But none of you were looking for regret. Besides, if Sarah can’t forgive her own father. If she can’t find some reasoning or justification for his actions, why should any of you?

One deputy broke the silence. “We’ve lost their radio signal, sir…”. Shoupe was quick to comfort his long-time friend, removing the radio from his hand and speaking into the intercom.

“Those are kids out there. Don’t stop lookin’.” He commanded his team. Now he cared about them being kids? Not when he was right there, driving them into the storm? He planted a steady hand on Ward’s shoulder, leaning down to his ear. “You stay right here. We’re gonna needa talk to you…”

ALMOST AN HOUR WENT BY before the team started to pack up. The table in front of you all was now gone and everyone had cleared out. Apparently, the four of you had to wait until your parents showed to take you home and claim custody, which was a whole ‘nother nightmare in itself. Kie’s eyes were still puffy from crying but now she just remained with a permanent frown on her face and Pope had been running a hand through his hair for the past half hour, trying not to lose it. 

You couldn’t really place how you and JJ felt. For once, you didn’t know. It felt you’d both just lost a brother. 

“We got Search ‘n Rescue on standby.”

“Any response?”

“They’re not calling it off yet…”

Officers chattered mindlessly, paying no mind to the catatonic teens staring out at nothing in front of them. Shoupe came into the tent wearing a weatherproof yellow jacket, two men trailing behind him in identical attire. The four of you stood swiftly, waiting for the Deputy- Sheriff, to speak.

“Did you find them?” Pope urged, almost pressing the man. Shoupe gritted his teeth, shaking his head side to side in response. 

“...No.”

“So, they got away?” Kiara spoke optimistically, her tone rising more than it had in the last couple hours. Shoupe swallowed, avoiding all of your eyes. And somehow, you just knew.

“We, uh…we lost them.” He said firmly, holding back his own emotions. How does a man go from wanting nothing more to find a “fugitive”, dead or alive, to seeming remorseful that said teen was now gone. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” You spoke for the first time in what felt like forever, voice small, strained, but still furious. “That’s all you have to say yourself? Is that you’re sorry?” You took a step closer, voice trembling dangerously as a hand latched around your wrist — JJ.

He directed his gaze to Shoupe. “What do you mean you lost them?”

Shoupe sighed, raking a hand down his face. “They took an open boat into a tropical depression.” He retorted professionally.”

“...So, they’re dead?” You asked tearfully, fists balled painfully at your sides. Shoupe eyed you pitifully.

“We…don’t know.”

You couldn’t help but snatch your wrist out of JJ’s hold, taking steps forward until you were just inches away from the Sheriff’s face. “Whatever happened to them,” You started, anger consuming your words. “It’s all. On. You.” You said, enunciating each word with a finger to his chest, no matter how watery your voice sounded. “Do you understand that?!” You voice rose as you shoved the officer.

The two men on his side grabbed you and pulled away just as Pope’s voice rang out. “He didn’t kill anyone and you know it!” One of the men turning his attention to Pope, holding him back. Then JJ was lashing out, Kie’s face morphing as she started crying again.

Two figures ran into the tent, Kie’s parents. She let out a sob as she ran and embraced her mother, the remaining three of you calming down. The officer let Pope go as his mother approached him, pulling him down as his dad trailed in right after her.

Pope broke down in his mother’s embraced as he grabbed at her back as if he was falling. Heyward set a fatherly hand on JJ’s shoulder, the blonde heaving as he looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry.” Pope cried as Heyward joined the hug. 

You heart didn’t drop when you saw your own mother standing at the entrance to the tent, raincoat on with the hood over her head as your eyes connected. You didn’t cry or smile or run to her. You just stared at her with every ounce of disappointment, anger, and hate you’d ever felt in your entire life. 

And when Heyward broke the group hug to let JJ into the family hug between Pope and his parents, your eyes drifted to Kiara and her parents, who were looking at you. You wondered if they knew, but then you assumed that that was a crazy idea. Her parents were more your father’s friends than they ever were hers. 

When your eyes went to find your mother, she was gone. And you accepted the invitation of comfort from the Carrera’s, letting tears flow freely and sobs leave your chest. 

Maybe JJ was right. 

Kooks versus Pogues? 

They always, always win.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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©loveharlow.

[arminsumi]

PLS PLS PLS IM BEGGING FACE SITTING W ARMIN BUT DOM VERSION 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

S*T ON MY F*CE

↳ ARMIN アルミン + fem!reader

Note : idk if u meant him dom or reader dom so i made both lol 🫡 also the censoring of the title made me giggle its so dumb i just did it for visual reasons

Summary : faceriding/sitting with your boy Min... both a sub and dom version :)

Warnings 1/dom ver. : minors do not interact/read : smut/explicit content : daddy kink, face sitting/riding, mean dom Armin, dirty talk, begging, use of "good girl" and "wh*re" and "sl*t", after care

Warnings 2/sub ver. : sub Armin, mean dom reader, use of "good boy"

. . . Dom!Armin ver.

"Rub that pussy on my face. Don't fucking stop or daddy's gonna give you another spanking. Understood?"

"Yes daddy!" you whine, lowering your pussy and feeling his tongue lap at your folds immediately.

He's ruthless, latching his lips onto your clit when he knows he's fucked you to oversensitivity. Suckling while flicking his tongue against it.

He seethes in annoyance when you try lift your hips to have a breather from the pleasure.

"Who said you could take a break?" he said icily. "You're making daddy mad, baby. Being a bad girl... you know what bad girls get?"

"P-punishment...?"

"Aw, so you do have a thought behind those pretty eyes. I thought for a second I fucked your brains out and turned you into a dumb slut." he condescends in a saccharine voice. "Now you be good and stay right fucking there while I eat this pussy, yeah? Can you do that for me, precious?"

You nod and let out a raw moan.

He locks you in place, veiny forearms and hands hooking around your thigh's underside to secure that position. During times like these, he likes to show off that underneath his cute puppy face he's a strong man. His abs flex excitedly when he feels your cream dribbling down his chin.

"Mmm! Daddy daddy daddy I'm gonna cummm~"

"Hmmm?" he hums, lips flush against your pussy hole while he wriggles his tongue inside. He pulls back and looks up at you. "You wanna cum on my face? Beg for it."

"Oh but please—"

"—beg. For. It."

He edges you with his tongue, teasing your slit, nibbling at your labia, suckling everywhere except your clit just to frustrate you. Then he builds you up to orgasm and repeats the process, never letting you get your relief.

"Daddy daddy daddy please! I'm your good girl! I'll do anything— I'll do fucking anything for daddy! I'm d-daddy's little whore! Please let me cum, please! G-gimme my orgasm, please!"

He cracks a smile. Such an Armin smile. So sweet and genuine. He's so pleased with you.

"Then cum." he's curt before suckling your clit once more, denting his fingers into your thigh hard enough to make you feel like your skin is bruising.

"Cum cum cum, ohhh cum baby — that's it. Cum for daddy. Watch daddy rub that little clit. Goooood girl." he's frantically thumbing your clit, making your tremble and shake and roll your eyes back.

"Daddy, I'm cumming!"

"Good fuckin' girl. Aw look at that pussy cum... so perfect." he watches you become breathless, relishing in how you grind your pussy onto his mouth.

He licks your slit slowly, savoring the juices dribbling out your convulsing hole, while you pant and come down from your orgasm.

"D-daaaddyyyy..." you shakily croak.

"I know baby, that was a lot, hm?" he kisses your clit, "But you did so good for me. Let's go get a bath running, yeah? Aw, my girl you look so dazed it's cute."

You cling to him happily, smiling to yourself while he takes you to the bathroom.

"Hey..." he plucks a kiss, "Can you taste yourself on my lips?" he winks.

"How embarrassing!"

He giggles cutely. "Sorry. But you taste good. Really good. Could eat you for breakfast lunch and dinner."

"Stop." you laugh.

"Seriously, that was a full-course meal. I'm so full." he keeps going, slowly receding into that dorky loverboy side of himself who lovingly helps you wash up.

. . . Sub!Armin ver.

"Fuck my face, please. Fuck my face with your pussy. Wanna feel you c–cum on my tongue."

He's a whimpering, pathetic mess with skewed glasses and a blissed-out expression. Nothing puts him in this crazed horny state quite like being sat on by you.

Min thinks he's in heaven between your thighs. He inhales your scent and it makes his dick stand up straight in his tight, belted pants. He didn't bother to take off his tie or shirt; he laid there looking like a good academic boy.

"Thank you... thank you." he mumbles into your wet folds, slurping up and down your slit and kissing your pussy like you're a goddess he's worshipping.

"Ooh, you're such a fucking loser, Armin~ it's cute."

You roll your hips against his face, clutching his bangs tight. He can feel you tug his hair, it makes his cockbead leaky.

"I'm a l-loser for you." he whimpers. "Ride my face harder, please! I'll beg you!"

"Then beg me."

You press your pussy harder against him and he drowns in it. His veiny pale hands cling to your thighs like they're his lifeline.

"Mmmf~ ride my face please ride my fucking face. It tastes so good d-don't get off. J-j–just use me, use my mouth."

"So cute..."

He cums in his pants when you ride his face harder. A gooey load spurts into the fabric, you can smell it and taunt him. Your degrading words just turn him on more.

"Cum on my face! Pleaaase!" he's trying so hard to make you cum; rolling the tip of his tongue into your hole and fucking into it, lapping at your slit and gulping and gasping against your labia. Kissing your clit. Suckling it. Giving sweeping motions to it.

And his jaw and mouth are so tired but it's worth it when he feels your hips shudder on his face, and your pusssy dribbles cream out.

"Miiin~!"

"Did I do good? Am I a good boy?" he pants, looking up at you with baby blue eyes from below.

"Yeah... my good boy. You did so well..." you smile down at him and his heart flutters.

Copyright @arminsumi don't steal.

[teddybeartoji]

mickeyyyyy *smiles too wide* i would love to hear ur thoughts about snow leopard hybrid!gojo if ur up for it,,,the words themselves just itched something in my brain

MOSS<333333333 i love ur smile btw I AM KINDA NEW TO HYBRIDS OKAY BUT THIS ONE IS JUST SOOOOOOO MMMMMMM also wait here is the twt art that made me lose it (everybody say thank u logan we love u logan for showing it to me) AAAAAAAAAAA IT'S SOOO FUCKING GOOOOOD HE LOOKS SOSO PERFCECT it suits him so well my brain is all mushy already

geto locking him out bc he purred too loudly fuuuuuuuuckkkkkkk he's so cute i want him. like he'd be sooooo clingy right?????? always trying to settle down in your lap always trying to get you to pet him to scratch his ears and he ALWAYSSS PURRS SOOOO LOUDLYY although i would never lock him out sugu is weak for that smh... i think he'd kind of like it when you played with his tail too?? usually felines don't like that too much but since it's you - he loves that shit. he likes to twirl it around your arm and his eyes go so big whenever that makes you laugh GOOD GODDDDDDDD look this is a full on ramble i hope something makes sense too i'm sorry for that i just🥴🥴🥴

oh my god he probably waits for you by the door when you come home, biting down on his tail just like in the picture?????? i'm kinda torn between whether he'd be good while you're gone or would he act up bc i mean it's satoru. the ultimate brat. so maybe he does scratch the couch a little or something? to show how upset he is over you leaving him at home:(((( you can't stay mad either bc c'mon look at him:((((((((((((((((((((((( god i wanna pet him sm

he probably likes to take care of you in his own way too right? like groom you? is that the word? he'd want to lick you, clean you, make sure you're all relaxed and feeling good after a long day. he's such a good boy:(((( he loves you:((((((((

oh and obviously he's super fucking clingy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i mean that's canon for him anyway but now even more. he always wants to drape himself in your lap, his tail curling around you like i said before too. please scratch his ears please please please:((( when you're trying to cook he's glued to your side, nuzzling into your skin - whether it's into your neck or just your back, he just wants to be close to you:(((

he also likes to nip at your skin!!!! there have been a few times where he bites down just a tad bit too hard and it drew blood but it was an accident!!!! he never wants to hurt you he felt so bad after that:(( went at sat in the corner with his tail between his legs:(((((( but you of course forgive him and coax him back to you with some belly rubs

after that he learned how to be more gentle, though. so now he often just fakes biting you just to hear you laugh or playfully scold him. when he does sink his teeth in - maybe your arm or your thigh; he always keeps eye-contact.

when you're just lazing around - reading a book, playing a video game - he's always next to you. always. maybe every once in a while he decides to take a nap, belly up, paws kind of folded and oh, he looks adorable like that. he's just a big kitty okay. btw he's always touching you. clingyclingyclingy. even when he's sleeping, he has to be touching you in some way.

SUGGESTIVE! gets upset when you come home and you have other smells on you. especially other mens' smells. maybe your co-worker hugged you goodbye or something and now his cologne sticks to your skin and satoru can't have that. he's just immediately pawing at you - begging for your attention and when you grant him that, he's jumping on you, pushing you down and licking over whereever the stench is. after he deems you clean, he just rubs himself against you - his way of marking you. you don't know that though... you just think he really missed you...... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

can hybrids go into heat............................? LOOK I'M NEW HERE OKAY I NEED TO LEARN. if they do.............. if he does............ oh boy... you need to get something to surpress those bc he will lose it. he's humping your bed, he's humping your pillow, he's sniffing your clothes. your underwear. sometimes he's pawing at your dresser, looking for more clothes but mostly his target is the dirty laundry basket....................................... everything goes when you're out....... he's gonna make a big big mess..............................................🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴 ok i think i need to stop myself here otherwise i'll really lose it........................

moss i need to hear your thoughts on this. NEEEED TO HEAR THEM. DESPERATELY NEED TO. if u know about hybrids u can teach me. i'm..... in it now......................... heheheheheh this was so fun i'm sorry it took a min love but yeah i can't wait to hear your ideas aaaaaaaaaa I LOVE YOIUUUU I HOPE YOU HAD A GOOD DAY MY BELOVED<3333

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, part 8

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Ao3

My unending gratitude to @azure7539arts for talking through this chapter and the next one with me, and helping to untangle all my thoughts!

-

Eddie spends the next week walking on air. He thinks that if his younger self could see him now, just smiling at random throughout the day, practically mooning over a boy—over Steve Harrington—he’d be horrified, but Eddie absolutely does not give a shit. 

He’s happy. He’s hopeful. 

He has no idea what the etiquette is for calling someone after a date, if there’s a certain amount of time that you’re supposed to wait so that you don’t seem like a desperate loser, but he figures he wouldn’t adhere to it even if he did know the rule. He calls Steve the very next day and they talk for an hour. 

He calls the next day, pushing his luck just a little, but Steve is on his way out the door to work and only has a few minutes of time to spare for Eddie. 

A couple of days later, Steve reaches out to him, calling the trailer and this time catching Eddie on the wrong side of a shift. Eddie is tempted to say “fuck it” and just be late to work, but, employing a strength of will he hadn’t even realized he possessed, he recognizes that getting fired wouldn’t help anything. He promises to call Steve back, and he’s at the phone almost as soon as he’s gotten through the door after work that evening. 

“So,” Eddie drawls into the phone between hasty bites of a peanut butter sandwich he’d slapped together before calling, trying not to chew in Steve’s ear, “not that playing phone tag with you isn’t fun, but do you think I could see you again?” 

“You mean like a date?” Steve teases. 

“Exactly like a date,” Eddie replies, not even bothering to quash his smile. 

He thinks he can hear Steve’s own smile when he answers, “I’d like that. And I’m actually free this Friday, if you wanted to take advantage of that.” 

“Perfect. Why don’t we meet here, at my place?” Eddie offers, and Steve gives a little laugh. 

“What happened to waiting until the third date?” he asks. “Trying to seduce me into your bed already?” 

“While you are very much worthy of seducing, I’m afraid I have different plans for the evening,” Eddie says. “So, meet me here? About six?” 

“Sure, Eddie,” Steve agrees, voice still warm with mirth. “I’ll be there.” 

And so, Friday evening finds Eddie on the front steps of his trailer, eagerly bouncing on the balls of his feet and watching as Steve pulls up in front. He doesn’t even wait for Steve to fully exit his car before he’s crossing the distance with a few long strides; the moment Steve has straightened up and shut the door, Eddie is right there, leaning into his space the way he hasn’t been able to in what feels like too long. 

He’d like to drape himself over Steve’s back, wrap his arms around his waist, casual and easy like it had been before, but, apart from being in public, Eddie doesn’t want to push Steve too far. He keeps a small cushion of air between them instead, and leans up to murmur in Steve’s ear, “Goooood evening, sweetheart.” 

Steve laughs, nudging Eddie back with his elbow, but the fond look on his face says it’s not because he wants Eddie away from him so much as he just wants a little room to move. “You’re excited tonight,” he says, still smiling as he turns around. 

“Any night I get to see you is a very exciting night, indeed,” Eddie declares, just a little theatrical about it, grinning as Steve cocks an eyebrow at him. 

“Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?” He’s trying to sound unimpressed, but Eddie clocks the pleased, pink flush starting to gather at the tops of his cheeks. 

“Nope.” Eddie shakes his head. “It’s true and I’ll say it. Now c’mon.” 

Eddie waves for Steve to follow as he sets off walking towards the entrance to Forest Hills, and Steve glances, confused, between Eddie and the trailer. 

“We’re not staying here?” 

“Nope,” Eddie says again. He keeps walking and, as expected, Steve heaves a sigh and jogs to catch up. 

“Then why did you tell me to meet you here?” he asks, falling in step with Eddie. 

“Because, I wanted it to be a–” 

“–surprise,” Steve finishes in tandem with him, rolling his eyes. 

“Hey, you liked the last one, didn’t you?” Eddie asks, leaning in to bump his shoulder against Steve’s. 

Biting his lip around a smile, Steve glances over at Eddie. “Yeah,” he admits, bumping Eddie’s shoulder back. “Yeah, I did.” 

“Then hold onto a little of that faith,” Eddie says. 

“I’d have a little more faith if you’d told me we’d be outside again,” Steve grumbles, mostly for show. “I would’ve brought a heavier jacket, it’s almost November.” 

“Steve, you run like a furnace,” Eddie deadpans. “Besides, it’s actually nice out. We should enjoy the last of it before winter descends and we spend the next four months freezing our asses off.” 

“That’s easy for you to say, you’ve got on two jackets,” Steve says, nodding towards the battle jacket Eddie has pulled on over his leather one. 

“Are you actually cold, or do you just feel like complaining?” Eddie asks. 

Steve shoots him a look. “You’ll know when I’m cold.” 

Smirking, Eddie shakes his head. “I’m sure I will,” he says. “But we’re not going to be out here long enough for you to freeze your precious bits off, anyway – we’re just about there.” 

“We are?” Steve glances around, confused, and Eddie doesn’t blame him; there really isn’t much in this direction until you hit town, which is a longer walk than just ten minutes. 

In fact, the only thing around is just coming into view as the trees fall away and a stretch of cleared land begins at the roadside. 

“Here we are!” Eddie declares, taking a turn and ambling into the cracked and pitted parking lot of the diner. 

“You… brought us here,” Steve doesn’t quite ask. “To the diner?” 

“Yeah, c’mon.” Eddie reaches out and takes Steve by the hand, tugging him along until they get close enough to the building that he has to drop it again. 

Truthfully, Eddie hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the diner since Steve brought it up last weekend – specifically, that night at the diner. 

The more he dwells on it, the more he feels cheated, in a way; like he’d robbed himself of the opportunity to experience his time with Steve the way Steve himself had seen it. And the way Steve had described that night, so full of warmth and potential – Eddie wants that. He wants to see it that way, too. 

“I figured we haven’t been here since– well, we haven’t been here in a while. At least, I haven’t. I don’t know if you…?” Eddie glances at Steve for confirmation as they walk through the door, and Steve just shakes his head, brows furrowed. “And I also thought, y’know, it might be nice. If we could both look at a time here as special.” 

The frown on Steve’s face doesn’t clear up at that, much to Eddie’s disappointment. He doesn’t look displeased, exactly, but he also sure as hell isn’t giving Eddie that same smile he’d given him last weekend. 

Steve’s just opened his mouth to say something when a voice cuts across the noise of the diner, sharp and pleased. 

“Boys!” Both Eddie and Steve look up to see Dottie heading towards them with a smile. 

If they have anything like a regular waitress at the diner, it’s Dottie – a woman at least in her late fifties with curly hair dyed a violent ginger-red, bejeweled cat’s eye glasses, and heavy, colorful eyeshadow that never seems to dare smudge past her lids. She loves nothing more than trying to feed the both of them until they pop, as far as Eddie can tell, and she always snaps them up when they visit on her shift. 

“I thought you’d forgotten all about me. Maybe found some fancier establishment to take your business to,” she says as she reaches the front. 

“Are you kidding, Dottie?” Steve asks, suddenly all charm and earnest smiles, his previous mood apparently forgotten. “We wouldn’t go anywhere else. You can’t beat the service here.” 

Dottie rolls her eyes, but gives Steve a pleased smile and a pat on the cheek. She grabs two menus and leads them back to a corner booth, past handfuls of regulars, families out for dinner with their kids, and groups of teenagers milking a single order of fries for as long as it will get them a table. 

“So where did you two go?” She drops the menus on the table and moves to the side as Eddie and Steve settle in. “Seems like you dropped off the face of the Earth for weeks.” 

“Uh… we were just taking a bit of a break,” Eddie says, at the same time Steve tells her, “We were busy.” 

Glancing between the two of them, Dottie gives a slow nod. “Uh huh. Well, it’s nice to see you back from your busy break. Two Cokes?” 

“You know us so well, Dottie,” Eddie sighs, batting his eyelashes up at her, which earns him an eyeroll and a pat on the cheek, too, before Dottie walks off the get their drinks. 

When Eddie looks back over, Steve is looking down, studying the menu even though they both have their favorites memorized by now. 

“Is… everything okay?” Eddie asks, sliding his own menu over just for something to do with his hands. 

“Yeah. Everything’s fine,” Steve says, and he almost sounds convincing – Eddie might really have believed him if he’d actually looked up at Eddie when he said it. 

Eddie sighs, glancing over the laminated plastic pictures of burgers and pancakes, trying to decide what he’s in the mood for. 

“Look, I just thought since we haven’t been here in a while, it’d be nice,” he says finally, voice pitched low, so it doesn’t carry past their table. “I know it’s not a candlelit dinner in the park, or whatever–” 

“That’s not it,” Steve cuts in. “It’s nothing, Eddie, just– it’s fine.” 

Anything Eddie might have come up with to say to that is cut off by Dottie’s reappearance with their drinks. 

“You boys ready to order?” she asks, pulling her order pad out and holding her pen at the ready. 

“Yeah?” Steve half-asks, glancing up and meeting Eddie’s eyes, and Eddie can’t see anything there but the question of whether or not he’s ready, so he nods, and Steve looks back to Dottie. “Yeah. Can I get a patty melt, please? And fries.” 

“You got it,” Dottie scribbles his order down and looks to Eddie, who teeters on the edge of getting a waffle before deciding on the club sandwich and his own order of fries (he’s not entirely sure how well Steve will tolerate his being stolen tonight). “Alright, I’ll get those in for you. Wave me down if you need anything, alright?” 

They thank her and she sashays off again, leaving Steve and Eddie to themselves. 

The quiet that falls over them isn’t comfortable. It isn’t like the contentment of simply sitting in one another’s company that they used to have, nor even a natural pause in conversation like they’d had at dinner last week; it’s simply an awkward lack of knowing what to say, how to keep things rolling. 

Something is off with Steve, but he refuses to say what, and Eddie is desperate to distract from it. He reaches for the first thing he can think of. 

“So I didn’t know you and Jeff were, like… friends,” he ventures, thinking back to the way they’d acted familiarly around one another on Eddie’s last visit to the video store. 

Steve looks up at him, face scrunched a bit in confusion, and Eddie rushes to clarify. 

“I mean, not that I thought you disliked each other, I just didn’t know you were hanging out.” 

Wait, no, now it sounds like Eddie is jealous, like he’s trying to keep tabs on Steve, who is still staring at him like he’s not sure what Eddie’s talking about. 

“Not that you can’t hang out! That’s fine, I just – thought maybe that was a recent development.” Eddie bites down on the inside of his cheek, trying very hard to shut up. 

“Uh, yeah,” Steve finally says. “I ran into him at Melvald’s one night a couple of weeks ago and he invited me to come over to watch a game sometime, since we weren’t really seeing each other at… the usual places anymore.” 

“Ah. Right. Right.” Eddie nods. “You know, you… could come to the usual places, if you wanted to. You’re always welcome. In fact, I think your presence as a spectator at Hellfire meetings has been sorely missed.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Steve nods, but he sounds distant about it at best. 

“Did you wanna know what you’ve missed so far? I know we were kind of in the middle of the adventure when we, uh–” Eddie shrugs. “You always say you like hearing the story.” 

“Henderson’s been telling me,” Steve says shortly. He grabs his soda to take a sip, but now he actively seems irritated. 

Eddie does his best to tamp down his frustration. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing wrong; he has no idea where the night went south, but he’s hopeful he can salvage it. 

They sit for a little while longer in mostly awkward silence. Steve folds his paper straw wrapper over and over on itself until it’s a tight little square, then drops it on the table and watches it expand in a little puddle of condensation from his glass. He asks how Wayne is doing. Eddie tries to return the favor, before realizing that the only people in Steve’s life that he doesn’t regularly see are his parents (off-limits if he wants Steve in a better mood) and Robin (who may or may not still want to kill Eddie). He glances around the diner instead, and perks up when his attention lights on the back wall. 

“Hey, you got any dimes?” he asks Steve, who sits up a little at the unexpected question. 

“Maybe?” he says, shifting in his seat so he can reach into his pocket. “Why?” 

Eddie jams his own hand down into his pocket and emerges victorious with a small handful of change. “Never mind, I’ve got some. Be right back.” 

He hops out of the booth and heads towards the back, where the behemoth of a jukebox squats, waiting to be fed coins and spit out songs that no one even remembers. 

Steve had been right when he’d said most of the music sucks; there isn’t anything more recent than mid-70s, and almost nothing in there had ever been what you would call a chart-topper. Sometimes Eddie and Steve waste their spare change having a contest over who can find the worst song to play, until the waitresses start glaring at them and they slink guiltily back to their table. 

This time, though, Eddie flips through for one of the few good songs he knows is in there. He clicks to make his selection and grins as the quick-paced strum of a guitar pours out of the speakers, followed by the crooning of none other than Elvis Presley. 

You can always count on The King to pick things up. 

“There we go,” Eddie says as he returns to the booth. “Had to set the mood.” 

Or maybe you can’t always count on The King, because Steve actually looks kind of pissed. 

“What is it?” Eddie asks, any confidence the music had given him draining away. 

Steve stares at him for a moment longer, unnervingly intense, before he blinks and looks away. “Nothing. It’s– never mind.” 

“No, what’s–” 

“Here we are,” Dottie announces, appearing at the side of their table with plates in hand. “Patty melt for Steve, club for Eddie, ketchup for your fries. How’s that look?” 

“It looks great, thanks,” Steve says, smiling up at Dottie as though he hadn’t just been glaring offended daggers at Eddie; he’s always been good at that in a way Eddie hates – putting on that shallow, easy-going mask at the drop of a hat. 

“Anything else I can bring for you?” Dottie asks. 

Eddie is about to say no when he scans the table and realizes the one thing he’d forgotten. “Oh, actually – could I order a vanilla shake, too?” 

And that is apparently the wrong thing to say. 

Steve’s smile falls away, and he’s giving Eddie a look that sits somewhere between angry and hurt that Eddie doesn’t fucking understand. 

“Actually,” Steve says sharply, “I just realized that I have to go. I’m – there’s somewhere else I’m supposed to be, sorry.” 

He slides out of the booth around a shocked Dottie and pulls enough money from his wallet to cover his meal and a tip, pressing it into her hand before turning to leave. 

“Honey, did you want a box for all this?” Dottie asks, helplessly gesturing towards his untouched meal. 

“No, I – sorry, I just have to go,” Steve says, already halfway to the door. 

“Shit,” Eddie swears lowly, shimmying out of the booth to give chase. 

“Eddie!” Dottie calls out sharply, gesturing to his untouched meal when he turns back to look at her. 

“I’m not – I’m not leaving, I swear, I’ll be right back, I just have to–” He glances up frantically when he hears the bell over the door jingle, signifying that Steve is slipping away. “I just have to– Steve. I need to– I will be right back.” 

Dottie sighs and nods, and Eddie is off like a shot. He catches up to Steve at the end of the parking lot, reaching out and grabbing Steve’s shoulder when he doesn’t respond to Eddie’s calls. 

“Let me go,” Steve snaps, jerking out from under Eddie’s touch, but Eddie isn’t deterred this time, grabbing Steve around the arm and halting him in his tracks. 

“No. Not until you tell me what the fuck I did to piss you off!” Eddie says. 

Steve wheels around, shooting an incredulous look at him. “Seriously? I have to tell you?” he demands. “How could you think that any of that was okay?” 

“I don’t– You like the diner! Or you did!” Eddie exclaims. “How was I supposed to know you suddenly hate it there?” 

“It’s not the diner,” Steve huffs, and Eddie finally lets him go, if only to throw his hands up in the air, trying to toss some of his frustration off. 

“Then what? I’m not psychic, Steve! How am I supposed to fix my mistakes if you won’t even tell me when I’m upsetting you?” 

“You can’t just rewrite the past, Eddie!” The look on Steve’s face is thunderous, until it slides away like he’s too tired to keep it up, exhaustion following in its wake. “You can’t just – you can’t.” 

The chill Eddie feels has absolutely nothing to do with crisp October night that had descended while they were inside. “What? No, Steve, that’s not what I was trying to do. Why would I–” 

“So what, then? I tell you about the night I thought of as our first date and you decide to just throw it back in my face? Show me what it could have been if you’d just fucking looked at me?” Steve asks. 

And suddenly it clicks – everything Eddie had done tonight, almost beat for beat, entirely unintentionally, had damned him. 

Maybe if he’d waited a while between Steve’s confession and his decision to take them to the diner, it might have been okay, but for a musician, Eddie’s timing had sucked. 

“No, that’s not what this was,” Eddie insists. “I wouldn’t do that.” 

“Then we’re back to you just trying to– to fucking recreate something we already did, so you can try to make it better!” Steve says. 

In his floundering, a little of Eddie’s frustration boils over. “Well you’re the one who said you wanted to just go back to doing what we were doing!” 

“I also said I wanted to go forward with more awareness! Not go back and do the same shit over again!” Steve snaps. “I’ve spent the last few weeks just– going over and over everything we did together, looking at everywhere I fucked up, everywhere I misinterpreted you, realizing that everything I was looking at as us wasn’t– it wasn’t the same for you. And I was getting used to that, I was… making my peace, or whatever, thinking we’d just move on, and then you go and– and do this.” 

“I–” Any of Eddie’s frustration, any anger, it all dries up, leaving behind a cold, rasping desperation. “Steve, I’m sorry.” 

Steve opens his mouth, but the sound of the bell over the diner’s door sounds off again, and another man’s stern voice cuts into the silence. 

“Young man, you need to come pay your bill.” 

“Oh, Herb, he’s a regular, he’s not going to just run out!” Dottie’s voice comes on the heels of the man’s, equally stern. “Just give them a minute.” 

“I gave them a minute, Dorothy,” the man—Herb, Eddie guesses—snaps. “I won’t have delinquents doing any kind of dine and dash nonsense.” 

“Well, he didn’t even dine, so get back inside. And he isn’t a delinquent. Honestly,” Dottie is practically scolding, but Herb won’t be deterred. 

“You’d better go take care of that.” Steve nods back towards the diner, before shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and turning to walk off. 

“Wait,” Eddie calls out. “Just wait a minute, please don’t–” 

“Young man,” Herb barks out again, and Eddie hisses out a string of swears. 

He jerks back around towards the diner, yanking out his wallet and trying to count bills as he walks. 

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I tried to tell him,” Dottie says, genuinely apologetic. 

“It’s fine, it’s– fine.” He offers her a weak smile. “I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.” 

Herb—the manager, if Eddie had to guess by his ugly, front-creased slacks and lack of apron—is unmoved. 

“Come with me to the register,” he says, opening the door and gesturing for Eddie to go in. 

“Dude, I know how much I owe you, can’t I just give you the money here?” Eddie asks, trying not to squirm with the antsy need to go running after Steve. 

“And how much do you owe me?” Herb asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“It’s, like, ten dollars for the meal, and then tip. Here.” Eddie holds out a handful of bills, but Herb refuses to take them. 

“Like ten dollars isn’t an exact amount. Inside,” Herb demands. 

Eddie is half tempted to just throw the bills at him and run, but even as Dottie squawks at the man that he’s being unreasonable, Eddie knows she won’t be enough to sway the guy from trying to ban him—or worse—so he follows Herb in and begrudgingly pays his bill at the register. He makes sure to hand the tip directly to Dottie, making spiteful eye contact with Herb as he does, and then he’s back out the door. 

He doesn’t see Steve out on the road. He doesn’t see Steve at the entrance to the trailer park. He doesn’t see Steve’s car in front of his place when he finally gets back, winded from running at least halfway there. 

Bastard probably took a shortcut through the woods. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Eddie hauls off and kicks one of the tires on his van, the nearest available object, which does nothing but hurt his foot and make him a little more miserable. 

When the jittering swell of anger and disappointment has receded a bit, no longer clogging his throat and giving him room to think a little more clearly, he considers his options. 

Like last time, he could give Steve room to cool off. To lick his wounds in peace and then maybe come back to Eddie, ready to talk again. 

Or. 

Or he could get in his van, go find Steve, and show him that he’s willing to face his mistakes and make them better, whatever that takes. That he wants Steve to tell him what’s really wrong, so they can address it and move forward. That he’s willing to fight for Steve. 

He’s already pulling out of his parking space before he even realizes he’s made his decision.

Part 9

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[wafflinglumos]

Current day Wolfstar(let me preface this by saying, you should take liberties when it comes to these character, JKR sucks, these are just my gripes with how the fandom currently perceives these two)

Aka I’m annoyed so I’m making it everyone else’s problem. The “stupid feminine Sirius who’s 5’4 and who’s oh so much uglier than Remus, and he’s basically just a charity case!” STOP IT, stop it stop it, stop it. I have zero problem with feminine Sirius, go wild, my problem is with relating femininity to weakness and stupidity.

Also, I am so, SO sick of “big alpha 6’5 hot Gryffindor Casanova Remus Lupin”, not only does it not make sense, it’s annoying, and it reinforces gender roles. Remus Lupin spent his whole life being told he was basically a big scary monster, who can’t be around other children, HOW do you think he would react to being perceived as this big angry asshole with no regard for the people around him?

ALSO, Remus Lupin was NOT drop dead gorgeous, I’m sorry to say, he was not the hottest guy around(that is still my darling man and I will not tolerate anything against my darling man), he was a scrawny werewolf with scars, and premature lines and shabby clothing, if anything, he looked like an anemic average British man in the seventies, if not below average.

Sirius was literally “Hogwarts’ pretty boy”. I’m not saying this to make Remus seem like a charity case, because, wolfstar is pointless when you make one the “man” or “woman”, or “hot” and “ugly”, i’m saying this because Casanova Remus Lupin annoys me, if ANYONE was “Casanova of Gryffindor Tower” it was Sirius Black. (I also think people forget the negative connotation with the term “Casanova”, which is sometimes annoying to see when talking about Remus, or Sirius)

Also, I could talk about how canonically, Sirius was the tallest marauder, or how a huge part of his character was HOW hot he was, I could talk about how he was hotter than Regulus, i COULD talk about how Remus wasn’t the smartest marauder, I could talk about how Sirius is canonically an overly clever wizard, I could talk about how if anyone is aggressive between the two, it was Sirius, but, I don’t think I will, because that will seem like I’m trying to push Sirius being the “aggressive man” of the two, and Remus being the “ugly woman” of the two, and I don’t believe that,

Wolfstar has now become just a way to reinforce gender roles on two characters, and that’s gross, making Remus the smart aggressive “man” of the relationship, and Sirius the stupid small “woman” of the relationship, is just gross dude.

Wolfstar doesn’t HAVE to fall into gender norms, that’s not necessary, neither of them HAVE to be the “man” or “woman”, that’s NOT necessary.

Remus being a funky looking guy, while Sirius is a hot nepo baby, is so beautiful, and it makes their relationship so much more interesting than “man aggressive and hot” and “woman ugly but pretty and pathetic”.

Anyways, let Remus be a skrunkly little man, and let Sirius be hot, also STOP ASSIGNING GENDER ROLES TO THEM OH MY GOOOOOD DHFBFJDJCJ