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coffeewithcutcaffeine · 2 months

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hello my darling lin 💞 i'm afraid i can't keep it to myself any longer, i must know all about your character tags, they're simply too intriguing 👀.

Ahhh, my loveliest Lizzie! Thank you so much for sending this ask my way, it was such a lovely and generous surprise to find in my inbox today! 🥹❤️ I have a lot of different tags for five separate works so, please, bear with me as I briefly try to elaborate on all of them skdskfjsksfjsk. I apologise beforehand for my seemingly endless rambles, though I hope it will turn out to be interesting nonetheless! 🥰✨️

VOIEVOD:

The majority of my tags come from my medieval magnum opus sksksk because numerous distinct characters are already detailed and elaborate in my mind — let’s dig into them! I do have to confess that some of these tags have yet to make a proper appearance, but I have prepared them in advance, just in case.

( oc: if i cannot move heaven i will raise hell ) — Vlad Dracula. This phrase is a well-known quote from Virgil’s Aeneid: “Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.” I have always felt that it perfectly encapsulates Vlad’s entire life — he is quite the prototype of a Machiavellian ruler willing to resort to more violent methods if needed (which we know very well from history, after all). Throughout the works, he repeatedly acknowledges his belief that he is destined for hell and expresses his willingness to sacrifice his soul for the greater good of his people. And he is also a very strong-willed and stubborn person who will always find a way to achieve his goals, whatever it costs him.

( oc: sanctuary ) — Cătălina. At first, I greatly hesitated to use this symbolism as I truly believe this remarkable woman is defined by much more than her role as the royal mistress and the mother of the voivode’s sons, and I try to depict that individuality of her character. However, this role does significantly influence her life and defines many of the decisions she makes. Throughout their relationship, Vlad sees Cătălina as his sanctuary because she accepts him as he is, loves him despite his perceived defects, and offers him a sense of belonging and peace. Sure, he loves that she keeps him on his toes, but this acceptance and the notion of having a kindred spirit give him the feeling of healing and safety. He can take off the many masks and let himself be exposed as he is, deep down. She also serves as a sanctuary for their sons, acting as the family’s anchor since they spend most of their time with her.

( oc: golden child; lion boy ) — Mehmed the Conqueror. His tag comes from the beautiful poem written by madzieloss on Tumblr, with the whole quote going, “Golden child, Lion boy; Tell me what it’s like to conquer.” I initially tried to use one of Mehmed’s poems from his diwan to make it a bit more personal, but this particular poem works perfectly because it encapsulates Mehmed’s whole essence — the Sultan of the Empire, the gifted child, the great conqueror. I also love using the recurring theme of gold and sun for his character. Gold represents the splendour of the Ottoman Empire, as well as his personal visuals (a lot of rich clothes and jewellery, the gilded Ottoman armour, his ginger hair and beard). Sun is the lovely little dichotomy seen in his character as it is both radiant and invigorating (his manners, generosity, education, intellect, aspects of rule), and merciless and blazing (his cruelty and the destructive sides of his politics towards other countries). Like the sun, he can either help grow or burn everything down.

( oc: the dragon ) — Vlad Dracul. I hate admitting that I could not come up with anything even remotely unique for Vlad’s dad as his moniker Dracul literally means “the Dragon” skdhskfskdks. However, the nickname was used for a reason, and we do not fix what isn’t broken in this house. The dragon’s role in medieval symbolism reflects a complex interplay between themes of heroism, morality, and the battle between light and darkness — on the one hand, the creature is seen as a protector and symbol of power, strength, and courage, but on the other hand, a dragon also represents a cunning and dangerous figure. He is called “the Dragon” both by people who admire him and despise him, so it shows the double meaning and the complexity of a ruler’s nature. At the same time, the meaning also spills over to his private life as he is both a figure of protection and (unwilling and unintentional) destruction to his family.

( oc: of burning martyrdom ) — Mircea Dracula. The eldest sibling is without a doubt the most tragic figure in the entire story, and I wanted his tag to reflect the tragedy and inevitability of his fate. He was killed at nineteen at the hands of his father’s enemies and in the cruellest way imaginable, and the “burning” part hints at some of the circumstances of his death. In his own way, he dies as a martyr because he dies refusing to give up his beliefs — and he is a martyr figure because the majority of his short life is marked with great struggles.

( oc: keeper of secrets ) — Alexandra. This tag is supposed to represent all the inner turmoil and complexities fighting one another inside Vlad’s younger sister. Because the two siblings share most of their personality and physical traits and are also close in age (there is a three-year gap between them), Vlad has always had a fond spot for his little sister and always considered her his little confidante — hence the meaning of keeping secrets. In return, Vlad has always been the brother who has granted Alexandra the most freedom and experience. She also keeps many secrets because there is a lot of her she has to repeatedly suppress inside of her — as I have mentioned, Vlad and Alexandra are quite alike, but Vlad’s personality tends to be accepted more while the same traits in Alexandra are often frowned upon.

( oc: cel frumos ) — Radu Dracula. My laziness shows here once again as that is Radu’s moniker, meaning “the handsome” or “the beautiful”. Radu has been given a fair share of horrible portrayals in media over the years, so I aim to further develop his character and show the varied aspects of his personality that are frequently overlooked. I initially tried to find something that would suit his complicated character but eventually settled on the nickname itself as it nicely shows the irony of his life and the most defining issue of his life — always being disregarded and reduced to only a sliver of his being.

( oc: cel mare ) — Ștefan the Great. (Or, as I like to call him, Fane.) There is no possible tag that would fit the famous Voivode of Moldavia and Vlad’s cousin (Vlad’s mother was a Moldavian princess) more than his own nickname, “the Great”. He is considered a national hero in both Romania and Moldova and undoubtedly earned his monicker through his actions.

OPEN HEART:

( c: i rise with my red hair and i eat men like air ) — Laura Levchenko. Her tag comes from Sylvia Plath’s poem called Lady Lazarus and, although I wanted to find a fitting quote from Lesya Ukrainka to represent Laura’s roots (that form a great part of her being), this one has the right amount of sharpness and edge fitting for my darling spitfire. Her fiery hair is undoubtedly one of her trademarks, and the quote also represents an independent spirit that will not be pushed down by being seemingly “inferior”. It also shows her own stance towards men, beginning with the painful experience with her dad and marking her whole life, as well as people who look down upon her.

( c: veni vidi vici ) — E.R. This is incredibly embarrassing because I was desperate to find something better for Ethan, something more fitting for his character… but there it is skdksfksldls. I do not think this quote even needs any introduction, so I will mention instead that “I came, I saw, I conquered” expresses the way Ethan achieves everything he sets his mind to, as well as the ferocity with which he pursues all his goals. When we compare his character to Laura’s, it might also imply the briskness with which he achieves certain things in life as a straight white American man — as opposed to Laura who is not only looked down upon for being a woman but also has to face a lot of xenophobia in her life. (You also want to re-enact the Ides of March on him sometimes but… I digress sksksk.)

CRIMES OF PASSION:

( c: this ghost sitting year after year upon my heart ) — Milena Rosa. This quote comes from Federico García Lorca’s play Yerma, in Spanish being, “este fantasma sentado año tras año encima de mi corazón”. I have to admit that I have yet to get myself familiar with Milena and craft her character in detail the way she deserves, but we know from canon that Jimmy’s tragic death greatly defines not only her own inner life (because she battles with all the demons his loss has inflicted upon her) but also the trajectory of her future career and the purpose she finds in her mission.

( c: bleeding sun ) — T.T. Trystan’s tag is from Lucie Thésée’s Poem, and the full quote goes, “Handsome as life and poison. Sun-blood handsome. Bleeding sun.” This was an instant fit because Trystan is undoubtedly the product of the environment he grew up in — Drakovia is both a place of beauty and vibrance, but we know its regime is bloody and deadly. Trystan will also never suppress the essence of who he is, and his character is both full of life and somewhat fierce (sometimes even violent) in nature. A lot of my worldbuilding for the story comes from my own experience as an Eastern European, and this little corner of the world is brimming with endless contradictions, so I tried to come up with something that would evoke that as closely as possible.

THE WAYHAVEN CHRONICLES:

( c: i am the sea and nobody owns me ) — Kimberley Cunningham. Kimble is my TWC newborn that I have only recently crafted into a character she should have been from the very beginning. Her tag is actually the legendary quote uttered by Pippi Longstocking which, apart from its fierceness, also fits Kimberley’s playfulness and carefree approach to life. She is a rebel through and through in every aspect of her life, which stems from the disastrous nature of her relationship with Rebecca. Her main objective in life is to do the exact opposite of what she is told, and she enjoys shocking people around her. But, just like the sea, she can be tempestuous and unpredictable, and some of her decisions can be quite destructive. Kimble ends up in the love triangle which kind of mirrors the rest of her life — initially harmless fun turns complicated and messy.

( c: a ribbon of loneliness ) — Sydney Brannagan. My poor baby Syd has been characterised through his melancholy since the very first moment, so I needed to find this little nugget that would instantly evoke his inner world. Then I found this quote by Jenny Slate that goes, “I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that there will always be a ribbon of loneliness running through who I am.” Loneliness runs through Sydney not only in the sense that he is such a sorrowful soul, but also because a part of him always feels so detached from others. All his life, he has felt like he has to prove his worth to his mother to feel accepted, and he also unconsciously builds a wall around him as the time goes by. In the professional setting, his personality does not stand out in any particular way — he is diligent and polite, some might even consider him a bit bland.

BLEEDING HEART:

I do feel like I need to give a bit more context for this interactive fiction beforehand, especially because there is only Chapter 1 out so far. The story is a retelling of Bram Stoker’s Dracula through the point of view of Mina Murray, and the first chapter already explores several wonderful themes I cannot wait to get my grubby little hands on! I have a very clear idea of who I want Mina to be, how she struggles in the setting and society she lives in, and how her personality drives her emotions and decisions. I do not know if my personal HCs will align with the story as it progresses, but there is nothing this user cannot tweak to her liking skdhskfjfksks.

( c: growing fruit around cyanide ) — Wilhelmina Murray-Harker. Mina’s tag is a part of a poem from a collection called Swallowtail by Brenna Twohy and goes, “Peach pits are poisonous. This is not a mistake. Girlhood is growing fruit around cyanide. It will never be your for swallowing.” Essentially, it encapsulates the conflict between who Mina seems to be on the outside and who she truly is on the inside. I have always felt like the Victorian times were one of the most suffocating periods for a woman to live in, and Mina always has to suppress a huge part of herself to somehow “fit the mould”, hence how she grows fruit around cyanide. Just like the society, her relationship with Jonathan also suffocates her — her engagement is a choice made out of reason, but she does not feel fulfilled with him in practically any way, which ultimately drives her into the arms of Dracula.

( c: the master of the night ) — Count Dracula. His tag is just the tweak of the quote from Bram Stoker’s Dracula: “Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!” Since he commands all the creatures and phenomena of the night, I have changed the bit to the “master”. I wish I had anything interesting to add to his character but, so far, I am waiting to see what he turns out to be like in Bleeding Heart — I know we are able to make him be the big villain or give him redeeming qualities, so I will wait and see which route will seem more fitting to me though I do play around with the idea of making Dracula more redeemable and a different character more villainous). Also, Count Dracula the Vampire has absolutely nothing to do with Vlad Dracula the Voivode in my fictional world — I know merging the two into one character is very popular, there is even one novel that did this that I absolutely love, but… not happening here lmao.

#ask reply #lin rambles #character tags #( oc: if i cannot move heaven i will raise hell )#( oc: sanctuary )#( oc: golden child; lion boy )#( oc: the dragon )#( oc: of burning martyrdom )#( oc: keeper of secrets )#( oc: cel frumos )#( oc: cel mare )#( c: i rise with my red hair and i eat men like air )#( c: veni vidi vici )#( c: this ghost sitting year after year upon my heart )#( c: bleeding sun )#( c: i am the sea and nobody owns me )#( c: a ribbon of loneliness )#( c: growing fruit around cyanide )#( c: the master of the night )

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ashes-writing · 2 years

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free fallin pt two | stranger things ; b.hargrove

A/N; This came to me earlier and I had to do it. Reader isn't a complete goody two shoes, but... she is /innocent/. I decided to write out an entire chapter of their own internalizations and a little friendship between Reader's little sis and Max. I am seriously hoping that this stays the way I think it will because if so, it's going to be cute to write out. and *ahem,coughs* hot in some parts. I uh.. have plans for this.

AHHH you guys, thank you so much. Anyone reading this, esp the likes/reblogs and tags/comments you guys have no idea how much this means to me and how much it encourages me to keep going. It really does help. Thank you soooooo much.

-Ashes.

Pairing ; Billy Hargrove x Innocent!Fem reader

Timeline / Other Stuff; part I can be found by clicking. Definitely a good idea to read that and then come back and read this so it all makes sense. None of the events of s2 pertaining the upside down and all it's unholy terrors and Billy's death or Barbs will be happening. The upside down actually doesn't exist in any of the reader fics I write so.. yeah.

Warning; the smallest mention of Neil -but it's literally just him being mentioned as of rn. Billy. Billy is the warning here, loves. Because he's just an angsty and uncomfy lil bean bc he does not know what to do with ... things he learns.

Taglist;

@allelitesmut @aries-arcade @cole22ann @hcloangcls @heyaitsklaudia @krys-orion @musichealsscars @scoobiessnacks are the only people on my Stranger Things taglist. However I extend a tag to @rampagewriting -- no pressure bb feel free to absolutely ignore. If you do want to be on my taglist for anything including Stranger Things, please go -> here and add yourself.

rules + fandoms || masterlist || ask me things || requests ; open to headcanon asks + nsfw sfw alphabet letters only.

It’s actually 8:10 when you hear the raucous rumble of the engine belonging to Billy’s Camaro. You wander over to your bedroom window as you finish towel drying your hair and peer out through a gauzy tapestry. About the same time you’re doing this, your sister in middle school bursts through your door, giggling as she rushes to your window. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god.” she’s got a hand to her heart.

“What?” you give her a blank look.

“Billy Hargrove is parked outside our house, what the hell do you mean what?”

You roll your eyes. You’d forgotten all about her little crush on him. “Calm down. You’re in what, sixth grade?”

“Seventh, asshole.” Virginia pouts. “Seventh.”

“He’s still way too old. Besides,” you state calmly, “If you’re smart you’ll stay away from boys like that. Do you hear me?”

“Mhm. So then… care to explain why he’s here?” she taps her foot.

You throw your hands up in the air. “Tutoring, Gin. I’m tutoring him. There’s no other reason.”

“Are you sure? Because, I mean… I swear I won’t tell Mom and Patrick if he is your boyfriend. Only if it’s him, though. If you bring that prick Harrington over, ugh.. No.”

“I’m suuuure, oh my god, go to your own room.” you shove her out of your bedroom and shut the door behind you.

And then, after you’ve taken a little time to pull yourself together and you’re dressed in some shorts and a cropped red shirt with the Coca Cola logo on it, you make your way downstairs to open the door. Billy’s leaning in the doorway, a smirk on his face. “Darlin, hey.” he’s smooth, too smooth like usual. And when he steps into your house, he makes sure that he presses right up against you in the open doorway, right in front of at least three of your nosiest neighbors, all of whom happen to be either peering out their windows or out watering plants for the afternoon in their neatly manicured flower beds.

You gulp, hoping to God he didn’t see you do it. Mrs. Myrtle from across the street is staring at your house like she’s trying to commit Billy and his car to memory. “Shit.” you grab Billy’s wrist and pull him through the door, closing it behind you and locking it.

“That nosy bitch, I swear to God.” you grumble and Billy laughs.

“Somethin wrong?” he asks, gazing at you with that damned smirk. Like he doesn’t know already. He has to have heard how strict your mother and stepfather are, he has to be pretty damned aware that you’re known around Hawkins High as “Little Ms. Goody Two Shoes.”

“Yeah, if she tells my mom and dad you were here when they weren’t, I can kiss my non-existent social life goodbye. But it’s alright, it’s okay.. Maybe it’ll be okay.” you’re pacing a little but he chuckles as he watches you for a few seconds, finally reaching out to grab your arms and bring it to a stop. “You’re going to burn a hole through the floor.” he drawls, all relaxed and casual and obviously no fucks given if you get in serious shit.

You give him a dirty look but you take a deep breath. No reason to panic. They do know that you tutor. But if she tells them what you were wearing when you answered the door, oh god, the lectures. Your mother has tried at least ten times to throw out your favorite shorts and the shirt. Nevermind the fact that your grandmother has at least twenty pictures of your mom with her ass hanging out of her shorts.

Nevermind she used to be a little more…relaxed… before she met Patrick and they got married.

“Will you just sit down and cut out the pacing shit?” Billy is gazing at you, a brow raised. You nod, swallowing down a lump in your throat when you happen to glance down and see that his hands -those distracting damned hands, are still on your upper arms.

“Are we doing this or not, darlin? Because I stood up a real hot date just to come over here.” Billy chuckles when he says it, blue eyes dancing. Searching yours for even a hint of jealousy and he’s thrown for a loop when he doesn’t find any. What he does find is hurt.

And yet, you can’t stand him. It shouldn’t bother you.

It shouldn’t bother him that it bothers you.

You shove out what he’s just said and refuse to dignify it with a comment. It stung a little even though you’d absolutely die before admitting to it. ,,Of course he has a hot date, you think to yourself, he’s Billy fucking Hargrove.” and as soon as you allow yourself that one bitter and jealous little thought, you take a deep breath and nod to the dining table in the room across the hall. “It’s quieter there.”

“Yeah.” Billy mutters, slightly dazed because he can’t take his mind off of the fact that him saying he has a hot date didn’t piss you off or annoy you, but it looks and seems as if it hurt instead. Honestly, he didn’t have a hot date, he just said it to get under your skin.

Because you’ve been under his all damn day. First in that stupid and sweet little sundress with the grandma cardigan and then you answer the door and you look like one of the girls on the poster on his bedroom wall with the cropped shirt, bare feet and cut off denim.

He came here to study. And to get out of the house before Neil came in drunk and angry. Not be distracted, confronted by the one girl he keeps being told he can’t have.

He wanders into the dining room while you’re putting out the books and notebooks, some pens and some other things you might need close at hand. You nod to a chair and he sinks down, wordless.

“Okay, first..” you don’t even look up at him as you open your book to get a little of your own homework done too, “Let’s see how far behind you are, Hargrove.”

He shoves the notebook he brought over in your direction and you take it, flipping through. Somehow, you expected him to be a lot farther behind. The way he made it sound in the hallway at school, he was borderline flunking out. You look up at him, twisting hair around your finger. “Four assignments? That’s it?”

Billy shrugs.

“Okay, okay, this is good. This is actually better than I was expecting.” you can see that somehow, your reaction bothered him and for some reason, it has you scrambling to make it sound a little more… complimentary. Because you don’t want him to think you thought he was dumb as dirt or purposely slacking off.

To be fair, you wouldn’t have put it past him so the fact that he is just four behind is a pleasant surprise.

“This is really good, actually.” you manage a smile.

And just when he thinks he can’t get any worse off, there you go. Smiling at him. Rubbing salt in an open wound.

“I don’t just fuck, drink, party and do sports.” Billy mutters calmly as you read over the rough draft of an essay that you’re surprised was pinned by him for creative writing. A class you’d never associate with him to begin with. You’d have honestly pegged him for a shop class.

You’ve got your legs on the table and you’re twisting your hair as you read over the rim of your glasses and Billy clears his throat. “Can I get some water or something?”

He just needs to get some space because it’s too much.

When he specifically chose you to be his tutor, it was because he didn’t think you’d get any more appealing to him. He thought he could control himself. He thought he could work his way under your skin like you’ve worked your way under his. Turnabout and fair play.

He’s discovering that this little idea of his may not be the brightest one he’s had.

You get up from the seat and wander into the kitchen, getting up on the counter to get a glass out of the cabinet so you don’t have to wash one already out. You lose your balance just a little and you gasp as you feel the warmth of rough hands gripping your bare middle. You glance down at Billy sheepishly and gulp.

“There’s a glass right there.” he points out calmly.

“I hate washing dishes.” you point out. Billy grabs the glass you’d been reaching for and walks over to the sink, filling it with water. And he leans against the sink, watching you rifle through your fridge.

“Damn it, Gin… you ate my yogurt.” you grumble to yourself in disappointment as you close the door. And when you turn around, you find yourself body to body with Billy. Who promptly gives you one of those fucking smirks. Biting his bottom lip as his eyes move from your eyes down to your mouth. Lingering.

Intent.

“Okay, Hargrove.” you manage to get the words out, only they may as well be a whisper and you want to simply vanish.

This whole idea to give tutoring him a trial run was not a good one, nope. If you thought your dreams about him or the way you’re so fucking aware of him were bad before, you have a feeling they’re going to get so much worse.

Your younger sister peeks in after about an hour to find you going over Billy’s Algebra assignment and explaining to him what’s wrong with one of the problems and she laughs to herself because he’s staring at you like an idiot, he might as well be drooling.

“I thought you said your brother was a heartless asshole, Max.” Gin whispers into the phone to her classmate Max Mayfield.

“Oh, he can be. He’s just on his best behavior right now. Give it time, Gin.”

“I think you’re wrong, okay? I just have a feeling.”

“Yeah? Well I live with him, Gin. I know him. Just linger a little bit. Make sure he’s not trying to put the moves on her, please? I… I don’t want him to hurt her too.” Max pleads and Gin grumbles. “ ‘Kay, fiiine. I’ll go raid the fridge and call ya back.”

“Please?” Max asks before hanging up.

Gin wanders into the dining room, straight for the kitchen. You glance up and your sister gives a sheepish wave, her gaze lingering on Billy. You palm your face and laugh to yourself.

Naturally, she’s got a crush. She’ll be in and out while he’s here.

“Don’t come in here distracting him.”

“I wasn’t!” Gin mocks a look of horror as you step into the kitchen. You fold your arms and look at her. “I mean it, kid. I know you think he’s hot but he’s way too old for you, alright? Don’t… Don’t make the same mistake me and Mom did.”

“Mom’s only mistake was literally marrying Patrick the uptight countr y club prick.”

“Our father is in prison. They ran away when they were seventeen. Then you have me, being stupid last year with that idiot up at State. I can’t believe I was dumb enough to think a college guy wanted to date me.” you rub your temple and shake your head. “Look, it’s a damn good thing I didn’t do something I really regret. Just… Do not do what we did. Stick to books or boys your own age.”

“Would you relax?” Gin grabs your pint of ice cream and you give her a dirty look, taking the spoon from her after she digs it out of the silverware drawer. You sigh quietly. “I know Billy wouldn’t lead you on like that asshole at State did to me or our father did to mom, but like.. Break your attraction pattern now, kid.”

“You first. I see you staring at him.”

“I do not!”

“Every time he comes to pick Max up from the arcade it’s like your head’s on a swivel. Stop lecturing me and go up in our bathroom, look in the mirror and lecture yourself. Where’s your lighter. I wanna light my candle before the prick with his sensitive nose comes home.”

You dig around in the pocket of your jacket and toss Gin your lighter and she walks right back through the dining room and into the hallway, grabbing the phone on the way.

And Billy clears his throat from the door. And he’s staring at you with that damned smirk. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Just Gin being nosy. She’s got a crush on you, by the way.” you stick your tongue out at Gin, who flips you off from the doorway. Billy snickers quietly. “Nope. Go play with dolls or somethin, kid.” he laughs.

He files away what he did overhear being said between you and your sister for future reference and nods to the dining room. “I think I’m done.” he mutters quietly.

“Okay, let’s go look at it.” you smile and slink past him in the doorway over to the dining table. You sink back down in the chair and you’re going over his worksheet when he clears his throat. “Any reason your sister asked you for a lighter just now?”

Your mouth opens and closes and you shrug. “It belonged to our dad. I keep it on me. She uses it to light her candles while Mom and Patrick are gone.”

“Stepdad, huh?”

“Uptight fun-sucking asshole is more like it.” you mumble, low enough that you’re sure he doesn’t catch it. But he does, and he chuckles.

Suddenly, there’s just a little more about you and certain habits you have that make a lot of sense.

“So do you smoke or do you just keep it?”

You don’t answer. Billy smirks to himself.

You’re apparently full of surprises. This is either a very good or a very bad thing. He’s not sure which because this is the first time a girl has actually gotten under his skin the way you have. Normally, he can fuck ‘em and forget ‘em already.

You’re a challenge and he absolutely loves those. And he’s staking his hopes on finally getting you to crack so he can fuck you out of his head and out from under his skin already because you’re driving him crazy with your stupid little sundresses and cardigans and then this whole other side you’ve shown him tonight hasn’t made that any better at all.

If something doesn’t happen soon, he’s going to lose his mind, do something stupid like let you get close and he’s determined that cannot happen.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader imagine #billy hargrove x fem!reader fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader imagine #billy hargrove x reader fanfiction

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lokilickedme · 1 year

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Would you mind ranking your characters on how much you would or wouldn’t trust them to put a holiday dinner together?

Thank you for this @meri47 <3

I suppose, if I was ranking them all, I would start at the top with the most reliable dinner organizer and finish with the absolute dead last person I would ever want setting a plate in front of me, and that list looks something like this:

1. Chem!Tom. This one’s a no-brainer, the boy is a natural born nurturer and he runs a freaking pub. He feeds the homeless. He made sandwiches for Anja every day at lunchtime for what, two years after Sam died? Homeboy knows the way to just about anyone’s heart is through their gastrointestinal tract and he’s got the skills to be beloved by everyone who’s ever set foot in his establishment. He can cook, he can mix a drink, and he’s all about presentation with that cute ass and seductive wink. Definitely #1.

2. Rachel and Lani, aka the Puma Club girls. These ladies are in their early 50′s, have raised kids and kept husbands alive for decades, they’ve got something like 40 holidays under their belts. Old gals will pop a bottle and hit the kitchen and come out shitfaced drunk with a four course meal on the table two hours later, just go watch your damn football, they’ll yell when it’s ready.

3. Molly McClary. Sis has got the skilz with a pie and can bake circles around Martha Stewart without going to jail for tax evasion even once. We’re talking about the woman who put 20 lbs on the King of Claighe in their first ten years of marriage and fights tooth and nail for first prize at the Womens Institute Village Faire every Spring, you don’t go up against the Queen when dessert bragging rights are on the line. Plus she’s mastered the tenuous art of feeding King’s heathen cousins. She’s got this.

4. Kevin and Ted. Weemeetwa’s Merry Thankschristmas festival is a success every year thanks solely to these two - Kevin can shove a beer can up a turkey’s ass like nobody’s business and Ted’s Blueberry Fairies are Minnesota’s answer to psychadelic tiramisu (don’t ask, he’ll never tell...and no that wasn’t Wilson you saw sneaking down the alley behind the bakery. But it probably was). This is the day the Chief turns a blind eye to literally everything because goddamn the fixins are good so who cares what’s on the ingredients list?

5. Pete. Hear me out now - the big guy may swing a mean hammer and run his construction biz loose and questionably legal, but those aren’t his only talents. Turns out he’s a grillmaster extraordinaire and starts smoking turkeys in the backyard coal pit days ahead, so by the time the 24th rolls around he’s got a massive spread for his entire found family and all of Jake’s sisters. A feast fit for Valhalla indeed.

6. Bragneire of Tarses, also known as Bragneire The Previously Undefeated But Now Solidly Stripped Of That Title Due To Having His Ass Beat (Metaphorically Speaking) By Loki And That Goddamn Ugly Redheaded Wife Of His. Dude’s a king, he’s got some damn fine cooks and bakers at his disposal. He’ll tell you some good stories (all lies and exaggerations) while the castle staff lays out the feast.

7. Loki. Not Jack Montague’s Loki - this slot belongs to Lyra’s husband, TheKingsHeart!Loki, and it’s basically for the same reason as Bragneire above. He’s a king, he employs only the best, and he’s got all those daughters who like doing potions and herbs and questionable magic. Who says that stuff’s not handy in the kitchen?

8. Jack Montague. Why? Because she’s got two moms, one of whom isn’t very far removed from human - they’re gonna be calling every takeout restaurant in Michigan to Uber their best across town and it’s also likely Eve has contacted her favorite cafe owners in Tangiers to FedEx something special. It’ll be a spread like nothing you’ve ever seen. And you and Loki will be the only ones eating, so chow down baby, it’s all for you.

9. Cara and Aleks. They’ve been settled into domestic bliss for a few years now, and Aleks still has a little bit of his summoning magic - should be easy enough to snatch a couple bottles of wine from France without having to leave the house. Bonus: Cara is Chem!Tom’s daughter so it’ll be a combined feast. Can’t lose.

10. Anna from Body Double. Something just tells me this girl can cook, and every year she and Tom raise a toast to Ian, who is still exiled to Ireland, and another to DelToro, who sends ‘round a giant cake every year in the shape of a gothic four-poster bed.

11. Carly Lane. Not a bad cook, but you gotta listen to Duncan’s stoned stream of consciousness monologue through the entirety of dinner.

12. Tommy and Chloe. They try, bless them. Amy is still on tentative terms with them during the holidays, but she brings the stuffing and a pecan pie anyway. It was a tough sell getting her to relinquish turkey duties to Tommy, but *redacted for spoilers* so now she bites her tongue and behaves herself.

13. The Strada. But not Baltho. Keene can be trusted to somehow acquire the necessary components of a good meal, but don’t send Baltho to get anything. I mean it. Leave him out of it. This is your only warning.

14. Candy. She may be the seasonal cook at the Rancho de La Luna, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t lie her ass off to get the job. It also doesn’t mean she won’t cut open a sleeve of hot dogs and slap a loaf of Mrs Bairds on the table and call it dinner.

15. Greta. Her place is behind the wheel, not at the stove.

16. The Concierge. I mean, really? The Rockstar’s ditty about the biscuits wasn’t just an accurate dinnertime dirge, it was probably God’s Literal Truth leaking in through the cracks in the universe. And FYI, the Traveler nearly died of starvation before the world ended.

17. Sevensix. Loki’s buddy can barely even fit in a standard kitchen, don’t ask him to operate kitchen appliances - though I’m sure he could program one of his ButlerBots to do the work.

18. Clarissa Carmichael. Do you want Thanksgiving dinner or the apocalypse?

#this was fun #meri47

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that-stranger-in-paradise · 1 year

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debussy’s pelleas p1: recordings I love

I’ve been so busy... midterms are hell.

I wrote this a long time ago, @notyouraveragejulie, but I never posted it. Might as well drop it now. Voila.

Abbado/Le Roux/Ewing is such a gem. It is one of the few recordings I’ve encountered where the acting aka vocal inflections are so good that we almost forget it’s a studio recording.

Abbado conducts on the faster side, but his dramatic timing is really good. The sound quality is pretty beautiful as well. The muted sailor choir in Act 1, the moon lighting the cave in Act 2, the darkness to light transition in Act 3 all sound gorgeous. Debussy’s sound world is so dreamy.

I prefer Pelleas as a light baritone rather than a darker sounding tenor. Le Roux is so perfect. Hearing a slight strain during the climatic high notes really makes the character come to life. It also contrasts well with Golaud.

For Melisande, I feel there is a larger range of portrayals from naive to seductive to everything in between. I prefer Mezzo Sopranos to Sopranos here, and Maria Ewing definitely makes this role her own. Her smooth voice and mysterious interpretation belongs with this ambiguous soundscape.

Golaud has a lot of angry scenes that bring lots of tension: not as beautiful as the rest of the opera but dramatically necessary. My favorite scenes with him are his Act 1 conversation with Melisande and his desperate Act 3 conversation with Yniold. Jose van Damm does a fine job, very beautiful, solid voice in literally anything he records.

Here are 2 tracks I like on other recordings:

https://open.spotify.com/track/0MxAwOuWI2MLSlISZExmYL?si=80e6373c16984329

Starting at 6:20, Yniold sees the light in Melisande’s tower and Golaud lifts him so he can see his stepmother through the window. When Yniold then innocently reports seeing Pelleas with Melisande in the room, Golaud gets super distressed and Yniold, still stuck on his shoulders, gets super scared.

Patricia Pace in the Abbado recording is a very cute Yniold, more believable than some of the other sopranos out there. However, hearing a boy soprano(Anthony Britten) here singing Yniold just feels right. His delivery of “j'ai terriblement peur” is perfect, so afraid and desperate. Donald McIntyre really gives anguished Wotan vibes. Those “Regarde”s are heartbreaking.

https://open.spotify.com/track/5zPkT6xkbqBp2QYoP0lMIk?si=11ce94fea60b4c0f

Spotify somehow has this live Karajan recording, and wow this one has a few seconds of amazingness. But it’s very Karajan. Definitely feels more heavy and “German”. Even as a Wagnerian, I dislike the orchestral approach, but...

Karajan’s live dramatic take of the last scene of act 4 is just ridiculously exciting. It’s super fast, much faster than his official recording, almost as if someone had nerves or felt something magical in the air. Then we have Henri Gui(an absolute revelation like Le Roux, I wish we had a better quality recording of his work) and Hilde Gueden(have a soft spot for her work, so light and bright compared to Ewing).

At 3:46, Pelleas starts telling Melisande that he has to leave, and it builds into a breathless “Je t'aime”. Melisande replies with a low “Je t'aime jussi”. Then,

Gui waits 6 fricking seconds. And responds with the most shy “Oh! qu'as-tu dit, Mélisande!” I’ve ever heard. This whole section is so precious, we need more opera characters like this...

This recording is hampered by a lot(horn fumble, voice mishap, loud prompter, poor sound quality in general), but I can not move on from the last part of the scene (11:58 and onwards). Karajan’s frenetic conducting with Gueden’s precise high notes and the dramatic dialogue after Melisande spots Golaud is addictive.

The strings playing during the last kiss as well as the stabbing section dig into your skin. The cornets blaring Golaud’s theme are another great touch.

Gui’s timbre on “Encore! Encore! donne donne donne!” sounds really different from his previous singing, almost as if he truly ascended to another dimension. Gueden’s “Toute! toute! toute!” matches his tone very well, completing a really satisfying take of the dramatic Act 4 finale.

#opera #opera tag #debussy #pelleas et melisande

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ffsg0jo · 2 years

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- a o t g i r l s a s c o u p l e p i c s -

modern au aot x fem reader [mikasa,, sasha,, annie,, pieck]

WARNINGS: food, babies, mildly suggestive, ive tried not to include any specific appearance, but it was kind of unavoidable so please do excuse me for that -- masterlist

a/n: i got inspiration/ this idea from @laiiiin with their kny boys as couple pics post, so please do check them out!! their account is beautiful and they're such a talented human <33

MIKASA :

love my goth girl mika sm. such an iconic couple you two are. she's very reserved when it comes to showing her love for you. not too big on pda. she doesn't mind holding your hand and stuff, but things like kissing and cuddling she'd much rather do it in the privacy and comforts of your own homes. that pic of a girl laying down in bed with another girl on top of her doing her makeup is how i see you and mikasa. sis be gripping your hips while you're focusing on her eyeliner and armin would walk into mika's room and just stop in his tracks, seeing you on top of mika, who's rubbing up and down your hips while you're trying to focus on her eyeliner, and just walk out while closing the door behind him. shit's intense and has armin blushing like mad.

ANNIE :

i feel like annie is a more lowkey partner. you both love eachother as much as any other couple but you choose to love privately and sincerely. that doesn't mean you don't have fun in public though. the two of you are so lost in your own little world, you silently laughing and annie with a smirk on her face as you struggle to tell her your joke without bursting into full blown laughter. people walking past you can't help but smile watching you two as well; you look so happy together. you were once hanging out on campus, annie smiling at you going in to slowly kiss her when all of a sudden a shocked eren arrives at the scene, gasping loudly and disturbing you. he immediately takes pictures of you two and runs away and later shares it on the gc captioned 'OMGG ANNIE CAN SMILE?!?!?' he got beat by annie the next day ;-;

SASHA :

sasha is literally a best friend and a lover mixed together into one person. there's never a dull moment with her. your entire relationship is basically doing stupid shit together and getting high off of the adrenaline. your relationship with sasha is one full of laughter and giggles and most importantly, food!! most often than not you're joined by both connie and jean, who you don't mind tagging along, occasionally. they're both great fun and the 4 of you make an epic quad. yours and sasha's go to is an all you can eat buffet in which sasha once snorted an entire bowl of ramen, through her nose. you still have the video saved on your phone and my god did it go viral when you posted it. to this day sasha still sometimes sneezes out a long piece of noodle.

PIECK :

being with pieck is literally going on multiple picnic dates, just to lay down on the soft green grass and cuddle, while occasionally feeding eachother berries or fruits. kids in the play area see you two and wish that they just join you and cuddle with you because you look so warm and inviting together. teens in the park walk past you guys trying to contain their 'aww's and 'so cuuuttteeee's because they wish they had what you and pieck had. there was a time when you two had sat down, after setting everything up and a little toddler crawled onto your blanket with their parent running after them. it places itself onto your lap and you couldn't help but gush over how adorable the baby was and pieck was gushing over how cute you were.

taglist: @dukina -- join my taglist here <33

#🌻.sunspell #🌻.fluff #🌻.attack on titan #mikasa x reader #annie x reader #pieck x reader #sasha x reader #pieck finger #mikasa ackerman #annie leonhardt #sasha braus #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #aot #tahonet #tht.sinta #spirithub

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drwcn · 3 years

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follow up to [post] exploring the crack au if lwj was a girl

〒▽〒 ps im not trying to erase canon lwj representation, not at all, wangxian is mm in all my other fics, this is just stupid fun

in a ceteris paribus situation aka all other things staying equal:

1) Lan Wangji 100% still has a resting bitch face, which probably would get her a couple of “Lan-er-guniang 美若天仙 (beautiful as an immortal/goddess) but would benefit from smiling more” comments but nobody is that desperate to die yet so, she’s spared. But damn... imagine the sheer number of thirsty boys who’d try to secure a marriage with LWJ. None of them is good enough for Wangji as far as Lan Xichen is concerned. Okay - maybe in Lan Xichen’s opinion, Nie Mingjue is good enough, but he couldn’t be less interested. I see her as I see Huaisang, Xichen please.

2) Everything interaction between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian in Wei Wuxian’s first life is now 500% more scandalous.

Exhibit A) Their first meeting at the gates; Jiang Cheng immediately felt his spidey senses tingling. —“You’d sooner have immortals flying out of your ass than get with someone like her. The second jade of Gusu? The pearl in old man Lan’s eyes? C’mon.” —“Shut up, A-Cheng.” —“Uh-huh.” —“Also, she’s not that pretty. Her brother Zewu-jun is much better. There’s a reason he’s ranked first.” WWX is still a disaster bi. — “LMAO, you? Zewu-jun? Please.”

Exhibit B) Just because LWJ is a girl does not mean WWX grew more brain cells.

WWX, straight up to Lan Qiren’s face, “Lan-meimei and I - we’re zhiji.” (he means it like we’re kindred spirits, peas of a pod, etc) LWJ: *does not deny* Lan Xichen: ⚆_⚆ Lan Qiren: ಠ╭╮ಠ

Exhibit C) Lan Wangji getting drunk the first time. Wei Wuxian knew he crossed a line the minute he invited Lan-er-guniang for a drink. Really, WWX, even for you, this is inappropriate. When Lan Wangji fell face first onto the table, Wei Wuxian knew, he fucked up. “Hey....hey...Lan....Lan...-er-guniang,” He poked her. “Don’t...don’t sleep here! You can’t sleep here! If your Uncle finds out or if Jiang-shushu finds out...they’ll skin me alive and then...and then they’ll make me marry you! I don’t want to marry you; you don’t talk and I’m too young!”

WWX, being a dipshit, “Hey Lan Zhan, call me Wei-gege.” LWJ, drunk as fuck, “Wei..gege.” WWX *((( heart )))* ???

Exhibit D) The Cold Pond. Okay, so I don’t think Zewu-jun would sabotage his sister’s virtue by sending a stupid teenage boy her way while she’s bathing, but doesn’t mean Su She is above all that. Wei “I didn’t see anything I swear!” Wuxian. Lan “I will gouge out your eyes.” Wangji. Somehow they still end up in the cave. Maybe WWX got in the water after LWJ got out and got sucked into the vortex and LWJ heard the commotion, turned around, saw WWX had disappeared. “Wei Ying?!” A panicked LWJ jumps back into the pond, “Stop fooling around, come out!”

Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing 👀👀 when LWJ and WWX fall out of the cave together. Also the fact that Lan-er-guniang and Wei-gongzi went missing, together, for two days. Who knows what could’ve happened. I mean anything really. I mean... that’s gotta stir the pot a little were it not for the Yin Iron stealing everyone’s attention away from this bit of juicy scandal.

Oh the whole story... so much to work with, so little time.

3) Because Lan Wangji is a girl, now suddenly there’s a high ranking member of the Lan Clan who can host the girls at Cloud Recesses. I mean, Mianmian, Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing, Lan Wangji - SISTERLY FRIENDSHIP. Other than Mianmian, none of the girls are really talkers which suits Lan Wangji perfectly. Even Mianmian’s chatter is endearing.

4) Lan Wangji is absolutely still a powerhouse during the Sunshot Campaign. The inherent aesthetics of fem!lwj telling the Wen goons to “kneel” - no one will deprive me of this. Also she will still cut off your arm if you cross her - Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao ya better watch out still.

I am TORN between two options: Lan Wangji tol and kickass or Lan Wangji smol and kickass. On one hand, the aesthetics of willowy elf-like LWJ, on the other hand, 5′2′’ of whoop ass who can and will throw an unconscious wwx over her shoulder firewoman-style and toll him to safety.

And amongst other things:

A) Lan Wangji still becomes Chief Cultivator, because excuse me who else is left to clean up this mess? Jiang “Short-fuse” Wanyin? Nie “I won’t do what I’m not intended to do” Huaisang? Jin “13 year-old” Ling? Or Sect Leader Yao? Technically, being a woman means that she was never Lan Xichen’s heir, but at the end of it, it’s not like Gusu Lan is left with a lot of choices. Just the poetic justice of Gusu Lan pleading for Lan Wangji to come back when she fully intends to 隐居山野 (retreat into the mountains) with the resurrected WWX.

Lan Wangji being Chief Cultivator would echo Lan Yi’s tenure and rectify the fact that Gusu Lan’s only female head of family “failed”. Lan Yi had to face a mountain of prejudice because she was woman; someone has to say “up yours” to that. A woman as not only the sect master of Gusu Lan but the Chief Cultivator? Love that for Gusu Lans. (⌐■_■) ☞ ☞

B) Because of ~ sexism ~ I wonder if Lan Wangji would get titled “Hanguang” at all even after the Sunshot Campaign. Even Lan Yi, the SL Lan of her time didn’t have a title. Chances are LWJ won’t either. (Note: Violet Spider is not a title, it’s a moniker). So — say after the way Lan Wangji is still just “Lan-er-guniang”, and she does not obtain the title “Han Guang” until after she leaves Cloud Recesses and become rogue. (srsly how did they come up with these titles in canon, did gusu lan just look at 21 year old lwj and be like yah he’s lord light bearer *cue trevor noah stand up joke* why do you call yourself “great” britain? isn’t that a bit presumptuous? shouldn’t you go around doing good things and then let other people come to the conclusion: oh britain look how great you are? same logic with lwj.)

Lan Wangji, a Jade of Gusu or a nameless rogue, still goes where trouble is, helping those who need it. After laying low for a year or two to heal, Lan Wangji began night hunting. Donned neck to ankle in white silk and tulle, and a weimao (wide brimmed veil hat) obscuring her face, she became known to the people as Hanguang Sanren, the lightbearing wanderer. Gusu’s highest power probably has some idea who she is - or at least they can guess - but the vast majority of people don’t.

C) Lan Sizhui raised by rogue Lan Wangji as his mum would be different. Still cultured, respectful, but definitely with an air of keeping others at arm’s length.

For instance, grown-up Sizhui running interference and saving a cohort of gentry disciples on joint hunts.

Jingyi: 这人谁呀？Who is this guy? Zizhen: 多谢兄台搭救之恩，小可看您眼生，敢问兄台尊姓大名，何门何派，改日当登门拜访. Many thanks for saving us. I don’t believe we’ve met, pray tell what is your name and sect, so we may visit at a later time to thank you for tonight. Sizhui: 在下无门无姓，单名思追。举手之劳不足挂齿，怎敢劳烦各位名门子弟答谢。My name is Sizhui, belonging to no family and to no sect. As for tonight - I only did what anyone would; it bears no mentioning and requires no thanks. Jin Ling: 你这人，看你工力不凡，想和你交个朋友，可你怎么遮遮掩掩的。Hey you, we see you’re a talented cultivator and want to make your acquaintance. Why are you so dodge-y? Zizhen：金陵 — Jing Ling - Sizhui: 若是有缘，还会相见。告辞。If it’s fated, we will meet again. Farewell.

Later: Jingyi: 思。追。思追谁？Si. Zhui. To recollect and long for whom? Sizhui: 母亲的一位故人. Someone from Mother’s past. Jingyi: 你父亲？...Your father? Sizhui: 我不知。I don’t know.

I thought about how cute it would be if sizhui and jin ling knew each other but guys...Jiang Cheng literally thinks he killed Sizhui’s biological father. Like he literally thinks he orphaned Sizhui before Sizhui is even born. And Lan Wangji would never accept anything from Jiang Wanyin, not that it would stop Jiang Wanyin from trying.

A package of books here, a new robe for Sizhui there. Lan Wangji doesn’t know how Jiang Cheng keeps finding her. She and Sizhui are nomadic.

D) The inevitable conversation after wwx is revived.

You know what would be funnier than Jiang Cheng thinking Sizhui is a wangxian baby is if Lan Qiren thinks Sizhui is a wangxian baby.

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lmao what is this #cql ficlet #corie fics #lwj fic #f!lwj

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canary3d-obsessed · 3 years

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 24 part two

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Arguing

After enjoying a tense afternoon with Lan Xichen, Wei Wuxian comes home to enjoy a tense evening with Jiang Cheng. He pauses in the doorway as he takes in Jiang Cheng’s mood and decides which metaphorical mask he will put on to interact with his shidi. As someone who grew up with explosive people, I find this routine very familiar.

Wei Wuxian is always carefully playing a role as he interacts with the people in his life. Clearly he has read the classic sociology text The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life and is using it as a how-to guide. We see him do this same calculation over and over, in which he reacts internally to a situation, comes to a decision about what persona to inhabit, and then dons that persona. It’s a typical abuse survival tactic and...it is exhausting.

This is why I think his leaving to be alone for a while in Episode 50 is a good thing. Being alone isn’t better than being with someone else, usually, but for Wei Wuxian, who is (by Episode 50) assured of love but not sure where he belongs in his own life, being by himself for a while is going to be the best thing for him. He can learn how to just be a person, instead of constantly trying to mold himself to fit everyone around him.

For the current tense situation, Jiang Cheng is polishing his sword, which, incidentally, is slang (in English, not necessarily in Chinese) for masturbating. Which makes their conversation about how frequently it needs doing kind of a hoot. “One time a month should do,” per Wei Wuxian.

Jiang Cheng yells at Wei Wuxian--fairly, really--for being drunk all the time and not working on clan tasks. Then he responds to a hug attempt by shoving Wei Wuxian and knocking him down. JC asks WW if he’s too drunk to manage his spiritual power. Now, we know that he doesn’t have any spiritual power to manage, and that’s the main point of this interaction. But it also shows us something else about their dynamic.

This was just a quick hit, and when it takes WWX out, JC asks why he isn’t responding with spiritual power. Which means that apparently *every* time Jiang Cheng gives Wei Wuxian a shove or a shoulder check, or strikes him--like he’s been doing constantly since Episode 3--he’s putting spiritual power behind it. That’s...really harsh.

Jiang Cheng wants Wei Wuxian to fight back, and Wei Wuxian can’t; this is a big part of why their relationship breaks down. Casual blows loaded with spiritual power are part of their vocabulary, and Wei Wuxian can’t speak that language any more, even for basic defense. He’s literally not safe having simple interactions with Jiang Cheng now, because he’s secretly disabled, and Jiang Cheng is casually injuring him whenever he gets too close.

(more after the cut!)

This time Wei Wuxian has had enough, and raises Chenqing to Jiang Cheng, who immediately backs off. Jiang Cheng has seen that thing in action, not just on the battlefield, but in a small room full of whatever remained of Wen Chao when they were done with him. He takes this as a serious threat, and backs off, disturbed and puzzled and hurt.

Jiang Cheng thinks the change in Wei Wuxian is coming from apathy, not from disability, and so he misunderstands it over and over. Think of a friend saying “whatever, I’m sick of arguing with you, do what you want.” Jiang Cheng is very ready to feel rejected, and not at all ready to look at Wei Wuxian’s behavior and try to actually understand it.

Crying Over You

Wei Wuxian bails and goes to see Jiang Yanli in the ancestral hall, where she is polishing a name plaque. I turned the gamma way up to see whose it is and...I dunno. This character might be 江 (Jiang), I guess?

Jiang Yanli is the only one of the trio who knows how to mourn properly, in that she is taking some time to sit and be sad. Mourning the dead--both ritually and just in the emotional sense--is as important a part of reclaiming Lotus Pier as the training of disciples and having good times on the lake.

She asks him about his fight with Jiang Cheng and he says he’s used to fighting with him. Jiang Yanli asks him if he’s tired of living there, and Wei Wuxian deflects and deflects, saying “it’s my home, where else would I go?” and that if Jiang Fengmian hadn’t adopted him he would still be begging in the streets. He says “no matter what happens, I won’t leave Lotus Pier,” which is not an answer to her question.

It’s also not true. Like so many of his promises, it’s an expression of his wishes, with no space for the surprises real life is made of. He promises her that he won’t be reckless again, and asks her not to be mad at him. She says she can’t be mad at him, and then they share a flashback about Jiang Fengmian finding him on the street. This is a story, not a memory; Wei Wuxian can’t remember but he remembers her telling him about it. Jiang Yanli wasn’t there, in the moment. So this is her telling the story as it was told to her, probably by Jiang Fengmian.

Flashback Time

In the flashback, picky salad-hating Wei Ying is out on the street, looking for food in a cartload of pretty okay scraps. I mean, yeah, skip the tomatoes, but most of the greens look fine.

He’s found and fed by Jiang Fengmian, who recognizes him and decides to take him in.

Within a couple of episodes, we will see Wei Wuxian paying this favor forward, saving someone he finds starving on the street. Just like Jiang Fengmian, he's going to upset and disrupt his family in order to help someone for whom he feels a deep connection.

During this flashback we get a look at Jiang Fengmian’s sword, and it is a beauty.

What is Love

As the flashback ends, Wei Wuxian is smiling, hearing Jiang Yanli tell this touching story of starvation and orphanhood. She tells him he was born with a smiling face, and that he never minds much about sorrowful things; no matter how bad the situation is, he is always happy. Way to reinforce that metaphorical mask he’s wearing over his deep, deep despair, sis!

They talk a bit about Jiang Cheng’s bad temper. Then Jiang Yanli says now that her parents are gone, they three are the closest in the world, and he responds by putting his head down on her knee and theatrically saying he’s hungry. But he’s crying for real, and so is she.

Then he decides to ask her why people fall in love, basically, and claims that he does not have anyone in his heart. He says there’s no need to like a person that much, that it’s like “haltering your own neck,” according to Netflix. Let’s have a look at that figurative language for a second, and what’s missing from the Neflix translation.

What he says is (as near as my qhanzi.com skills can make out) “這不就是自己給自己脖子上套犁拴韁吗” which Google tells me means "Isn't this just putting a plow on my neck with a rein?" The part of the image that’s missing from Netflix subs is the plow, and the hard labor and animal servitude involved in pulling a plow. This isn’t a pro-romance image.

He’s clearly thinking about Lan Wangji when he lies about having no-one in his heart, but right now the yoke that he wants to escape has nothing to do with Lan Wangji. The person he’s harnessed to in a team, the person who he labors with, the person he wants to escape, is Jiang Cheng. What’s chafing his neck is the promise he made, to stay and serve as one half of a pair, when he can no longer pull his weight.

Busted

Speaking of Jiang Cheng, he is hanging around outside the shrine, listening to the conversation. Wei Wuxian busts him, pointing out not that eavesdropping is bad, but that it’s bad for grownups. Jiang Cheng points out that he’s the master of Lotus Pier so he’s allowed to go anywhere he wants.

(I love how he looks framed by this giant lotus behind him)

We Wuxian has another of those moments where he assesses the best approach to Jiang Cheng before responding.

Then he picks a fake fight with him about soup. Yanli comes out and tells them both to grow up, saying that JC is losing his demeanor as clan leader. He jokingly fixes his already-perfect robe ad they all have a chuckle.

Then Jiang Cheng reminds Wei Wuxian of his promise for the millionth time, and Jiang Yanli goes to make soup for the millionth time. As soon as the boys see that she’s gone, the smiles drop right off of their faces. They’re both performing their typical relationship dynamic for Jiang Yanli.

Being Reasonable

The brothers repair to the main hall, and stand behind the lotus throne looking out of this complicated wall/doorway thingy, while they talk about Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan.

Jiang Cheng is being mature and sensible here, trying to give Jiang Yanli what she wants and also explaining very, very basic political stuff to Wei Wuxian, who is too caught up in his hate boner for JZX to want to think about the bigger picture. He also thinks that Jin Guangyao is a nicer person, but Jiang Cheng says that nice doesn’t matter.

Wei Wuxian is getting a full head of steam going about what a jerk JZX is, when Jiang Cheng makes him actually stop and think, by pointing out that it’s not for them to forgive or not forgive Jin Zixuan’s past behavior; it’s up to Yanli.

Wei Wuxian sees the reasoning in this, and starts to say he can’t understand why Yanli chose to like this person, but then he stops himself and goes through a rapid series of thoughtful, uncomfortable expressions.

Perhaps he’s realizing that he himself has chosen to like an infamously stuck-up, fancy cultivator, albeit one with no soup-related character deficits.

Library Time

The stuck-up cultivator in question is currently in the Cloud Recesses library, where he has snuck into the forbidden books room, against his uncle’s express command, for the purpose of helping Wei Wuxian. The forbidden books room is an entire basement floor of the library; it probably has more books than the not-forbidden part of the library, since the main floor needs space for the restrooms, circulation desk, and copy machines.

(Did OP photoshop the Wangxian-in-the-Library porn picture onto Lan Wangjis’ book? She did.)

A couple of other Lans come along and see the main door unlocked. The lock is a big fish that probably uses magic for locking; it definitely doesn’t use a key. One of them steps in the doorway, glances back and forth without walking through, and does not check the secret door to the forbidden vault. Gosh, how did Su She and/or Jin Guangyao ever manage to steal secrets from this highly secure location, wow.

Lan Wangji hears the Lan disciple on guard duty say “don’t tell Hanguang Jun about this!’ and has a series of microexpressions that might indicate some kind of feeling about simultaneously being a rule breaker and a rule enforcer.

Boat Time

We end with an idyllic scene on the lake in Lotus pier, where a new batch of disciples is harvesting lotuses and learning the opposite of boat safety.

Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian are having a good time, and seem utterly carefree; both of them are good at living in the moment, or faking it.

Wei Wuxian thinks, in voiceover, that it seems that it’s not so hard to go back to the old days. Uh...ok.

Except he’s hiding a massive secret and these replacement kids are not the same juniors he used to hang out with, and he can’t actually teach them cultivation, since he has no socially-acceptable magic power, and everything is about to go to shit in the next episode. But you gotta take your joy where you can, I guess.

Note: There are a lot of questionable effects in The Untamed, but there are also beautiful scenes like this one, which looks like a Maxfield Parrish painting. Compare with the BTS below and you can see what a good job the VFX team did in bringing this lake to life.

#the untamed #cql #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #the untamed gifs #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs

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clara-licht · 3 years

Text

You Belong With Me

Part of Best of Me Series

Summary: 5 times (Y/n) Stark felt jealous and 1 time it was Peter’s turn. (set before Just Out of Touch, can be read as a standalone)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warning: mention of blood and maggots

Note: after a whole year, it’s finally here! Here’s another story set in the world of Just Out of Touch! This story can be read as a standalone, but reading JOOT might give you a bit more context. But if you haven’t read it, spoiler for JOOT, Hecate is (y/n)’s vigilante persona. (Y/n)’s pronouns are she/they, where they is specifically used when they’re out as Hecate. Since this story focuses on (y/n) and not Hecate, I used she/her throughout the story. In future stories both she and they will be used when there are both (y/n) and Hecate. Without further ado, enjoy the story!

Title Inspo: Taylor Swift - You Belong With Me

Best of Me Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

——————————

1: Compliment

——————————

(Y/n) side-glanced at Peter who was pacing back and forth in her room. She let him mumble and curse at himself while she laid on her bed, bored.

"Oh I'm so stupid! How could I have done that?! Ugh, she must hate me now!"

She rolled her eyes. "You're not stupid, Pete. You're in STEM school by scholarship for a reason, you know."

Peter stopped his pacing to look at (y/n) with his big doe eyes and panicked expression. "That's got nothing to do with this!" He exclaimed.

Rolling her eyes again, she asked, "What did you do again?"

He groaned and banged his head on her bed, mumbling something.

"What?"

"I complimented her skirt."

If she had to roll her eyes again, her eyeballs would probably be stuck that way.

"What's so bad about that?" She asked.

Peter didn't even lift his head from the soft duvet. "I sounded like a pervert, (y/n)!" He groaned. "She totally knew I've been checking her out the entire year!"

(Y/n) shook her head exasperatedly. "You couldn't have known that. You just complimented one piece of clothing, Peter. She wouldn't know you've been staring at her clothes every day."

Peter only let out another groan and turned over, pulling the duvet to cover his face. "No, she definitely knows!"

"What did you say, exactly?"

"I said the color suits her and asked if it's new…"

"…So?"

He removed the duvet and stared incredulously at her. "What do you mean, so?"

(Y/n) shrugged. "I don't see what's so bad about that. I mean, it's flattering?"

"Oh, you don't get it!" Peter threw his head back. "I asked if it's new! Meaning that I already know her clothes and noticed that I've never seen that skirt before!"

"Now that you said it like that, you do sound like a pervert."

"UGH!"

Chuckling, (y/n) lifted the duvet and removed it from Peter, eyes glowing soft blue. "Calm down, Spidey. What did she say?"

"I don't know. I ran away afterwards."

Her chuckle turned into a full-on laugh as Peter turned away with a pout, hoping to hide his flaming face.

In between her laugh, she shuffled closer to the boy and ran her fingers gently between his hair. "Well, if it was me, I wouldn't think much about it. I would just be flattered that you think a skirt looks good on me."

Still pouting, Peter mumbled, "But it's not you."

Her laughter ceased, replaced with a slightly sorrowful smile.

"But it's not me." She agreed.

——————————

2: Jokes

——————————

"What's taking him so long?" Happy grumbled.

"It's only been 10 minutes."

"10 minutes too long!"

(Y/n) only hummed and looked out the window. “It’s high school, Happy. It’s where he socializes with his friends, of course it’s going to take time.”

“Not if I can help it.” He muttered.

Shaking her head fondly, her eyes swept through the entrance of Midtown High, trying to see if the young vigilante was anywhere near them. Today was a scheduled lab day and she volunteered to pick him up with Happy. Since she already finished any lessons she had for the day Tony had let her go.

As she kept watch, she couldn’t help but feel a little bittersweet. Sure, she enjoyed her studies online, but she knew that she was missing that typical high school experience. Going to classes, eating lunch in the cafeteria, walking home with friends… But she was also aware that it was all for her safety.

The woes of having a famous father.

(Y/n) was shaken off her thoughts when she finally noticed Ned among the students in front of the school. If Ned was there, then Peter was surely not far.

Sure enough, she could spot a familiar tuft of brown hair right behind Ned.

And apparently he wasn’t alone.

Peter was talking with a girl facing his way. (Y/n) couldn’t see her face but she had a good idea of who she was.

Peter had a shy smile on his lips and his cheeks were nearly blossoming, if (y/n) could say so. In true Peter fashion, he seemed to be stumbling upon his words and spoke a mile per minute. The girl seems as though she didn’t mind as she was laughing along. And yet, unlike the oblivious Peter she was used to, this Peter looked at the girl as if she was a goddess sent to the earth to absolve every sinner from their fated doom. This Peter smiled at her as if she handpicked each star to light up the darkest night.

His darkest night.

(Y/n) unconsciously took a sharp breath when she saw the girl laughing so hard she had to hold onto Peter to stabilize herself. The way she clutched Peter’s arm and the color on Peter’s cheeks…

“There he is! Call him, tell him to hurry up.”

“Just… Just give him a minute, will you, Happy?” She mumbled, eyes never leaving Peter. She was unaware of Happy glancing at her with a frown on his forehead. Like her, he did notice that Peter had a girl with him. He just hadn’t yet connected it to why (y/n) looked off.

As (y/n) sat there looking at the window, the tight feeling in her chest kept getting more painful as time went. On one hand, she would love to get out of the car and go to him, replacing the girl’s position beside Peter. But on the other hand, she knew that things didn’t work that way.

‘He’s happy, that’s all that matters, right?’

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Peter already saying his goodbyes and approaching the car. It was only when Peter sat beside her that she was shaken off her trails.

“Hey, you good?” He asked.

(Y/n) smiled, a hint of sorrow that Peter didn’t notice on her lips.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

——————————

3: Flirt

——————————

The silence was quite awkward, if (y/n) must say.

Tony was out on a conference of some sort in Japan, and as much as (y/n) would love to visit the country, her father couldn’t literally pay her to sit through that conference with him. While she would inherit the company one day, she’d avoid any stuffy meetings if she could.

That day was another scheduled lab day for Peter, though. Tony had forgotten to tell him to reschedule, so he still went to the tower. Peter was going to leave until (y/n) called Tony and he told Peter to just mess around in the lab.

And there they were. In Tony Stark’s personal lab. Just the two of them (along with Dum-E).

(Y/n) could tell something was off with Peter. The first sign was when he said he would go home when he heard Tony wasn’t there. Usually he’d just stay and watch a movie with her. And now he was all quiet while fiddling with his webshooters.

Of course, one could say that perhaps he was focused on fixing or upgrading it, but (y/n) knew that there was nothing wrong with his webshooters and they already installed the upgrade a couple weeks ago. They hadn’t come up with new ideas since then.

“Hey, Pete?”

“Hm?” He didn’t even look up.

“Is there anything in your mind?”

“Huh? No, nothing.” Peter mumbled, still fiddling with his webshooters.

(Y/n) frowned. Something was not right, indeed.

A few minutes passed with silence between them. (Y/n) kept sneaking glances at Peter and Peter kept toying around with the shooters on his wrist. He wasn’t even doing anything. His eyes were unfocused and he was deep in thoughts.

Heaving a sigh, (y/n) removed the goggles she had on. She was doing a project for SI, but it could wait.

“Okay, let’s talk about this,” she said.

Peter finally looked up and stared at her, confused. “Talk about what?”

“Well, this,” she said again, gesturing at Peter.

“...you’re gesturing at all of me.”

“Of course I’m gesturing at all of you! You’re acting weird!”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are! You’re so quiet and you kept playing with your webshooters! Is there something wrong with them or what? You look like you’re thinking so hard and we both know you’re smart enough to not have to think that hard about your shooters!”

Peter didn’t say anything for a while as he stared at (y/n), eyes slightly furrowed.

“Well?” (Y/n) prompted. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Peter sighed and bit his lip. He looked up, as if pondering whether or not he should tell (y/n) about what was on his mind.

“It’s, uh, it’s about Liz.”

(Y/n) heart dropped.

“W-What about her?” She asked, feigning ignorance.

The frown made another appearance on Peter’s forehead. His fingers returned to the webshooter strapped on his wrist and started fiddling again. It was then that (y/n) noticed that this was his way of fidgeting. He used to fiddle with his fingers and then it was with his shooters.

“Well, I saw her today…”

“...and?”

“She, um…” Peter swallowed. “She was, uh, flirting, I think? With Flash.”

By some miracle, instead of feeling that tightness in her chest from the mention of her, she felt truly confused. “Flash? The same Flash that picks on you and doesn't believe in your internship?”

“Uh, yeah…?”

“Why would she? Doesn’t she know what kind of person he is?”

Peter laughed dryly. “He’s rich, (y/n).”

“And so am I, what about it?” (Y/n) raised an eyebrow. “I’m not as obnoxious as that guy, am I?”

“Of course not. You may be getting a big head, though.” He teased with a grin.

(Y/n) only swatted at his arm.

(It took every single will in her not to make a dirty joke then and there, telling herself it wasn’t appropriate for the topic.)

“Anyway! Why did you think she was flirting with him?” (Y/n) asked, ignoring the tight feeling that finally arrived despite the miracle earlier.

“Remember last week? When you picked me up with Happy?”

(Y/n) nodded. ‘How could I not?’ She thought bitterly.

“I don’t know if you saw, but uhh we were flirting, I think?”

“You think?”

“Well, Ned said we were…” Peter mumbled. “We were joking around and she kinda laughed so hard she had to hold onto me…” He recounted, a blush starting to make its way on his cheeks.

(Y/n) took a deep breath to try and calm her erratic heart. Her heart felt like it was sinking with each word coming out of Peter’s mouth. Had she not been a strong-willed young woman with experience in keeping her face neutral, she was 100% sure her eyes would be all watery by now. Not that she didn’t feel the burn on her eyes as she pretended not to hear Peter whispering ‘her hand was so soft’.

“And was she doing the same with Flash?” She asked, and again, by miracle, her voice didn’t crack.

Peter’s hand fell from his wrist and he nodded dejectedly.

“I thought she liked me, you know?” He muttered. Unlike her, Peter was an open book. He was never good at hiding his expression that it was a wonder that his secret identity was still intact. (Y/n) could clearly hear the pain in his voice.

It honestly infuriated her how easy it was for him to affect her.

(Y/n) cleared her throat. “Don’t take it to heart, Pete. Maybe she was just being friendly with him.”

“Or maybe she was just being friendly with me.” Peter mumbled, still dejected.

It filled her heart with grief that he could make such a pained expression in front of her. Had it been her, she could say with certainty that she would never let this boy in front of her go without a smile. But then again, who was she to do that? It wasn’t her that he wanted to put that smile on him.

And so, with a heavy heart and a smile hiding sorrow behind it, she told him, “Why don’t you ask her to do something with you? Like a date?”

——————————

4: Date

——————————

“(Y/n)? Where’s Peter?” Pepper immediately asked when she saw (y/n) lounging alone on the couch.

(Y/n) shrugged half-heartedly, shoving a spoonful of her favorite cookies and cream ice cream to her mouth. An older season of CSI: Miami was playing on the screen in front of her. She kept eating her ice cream unbothered as the screen showed a bloody corpse full of maggots. Oh, apparently it wasn’t a corpse and she was still alive. Who would’ve thought?

“Don’t you guys usually spend Sundays together?” Pepper asked again.

(Y/n) mumbled something that Pepper couldn’t hear.

“Sorry, what?”

“He has a date.”

Pepper blinked once. “A date?”

(Y/n) nodded.

“With… who?”

“...a girl from his school. An upperclassman.”

“Huh… Is that so?” Pepper hummed, taking a seat beside the young Stark.

She glanced at the angsty teen, still enjoying her ice cream accompanied by a pool of blood and maggot and David Caruso on the screen. “How are you feeling?”

“What do you mean? I’m totally fine.” (Y/n) answered through a mouthful of sugary dairy.

“I don’t think so, honey.” Pepper smiled at her, taking the tub away.

(Y/n) didn’t bother to answer, stubbornly keeping her eyes on the screen.

“I always thought both of you would end up together. What happened?” Pepper tried to ask.

“Us ending up together, huh?” (Y/n) chuckled dryly. “Not a chance, Pep.”

“Why do you say that?”

(Y/n) turned to the CEO of the company that one day would be hers. “Have you looked at Peter? Really looked at him?” She asked. “Because if you have, then you’d know that his eyes were never on me. Not once.”

Sighing, she reached to take back the tub of ice cream from Pepper. “A friend is all I am to him.” She muttered.

(Y/n) was perfectly fine with returning to her angsty mood accompanied by ice cream and crime lab, but apparently Pepper was not.

Pepper stood up and asked FRIDAY to turn the screen off.

“Aw, Pep! Why did you do that!” (Y/n) whined, not unlike a child getting her toy taken away.

“No wallowing in self pity, young lady. Now up you go! We’re going out.”

She groaned and plopped her face on the couch.

To say she would regret going out would be an understatement.

Because an hour on her outing with Pepper, she actually saw Peter on his date.

He was wearing a shirt and grey sweater, like how he wore to school, though the collar was neat. He definitely combed and gelled his hair. She didn’t like it, to be honest. (Y/n) always loved his curls that would fall to his eyes when it got a bit too long. She loved the soft unruly strands that felt silky when she ran her fingers through them.

Peter and his date, Liz, were in a cafe together. It was a cute and aesthetically pleasing one too. (Y/n) was in the Italian restaurant right across the street. Pepper sat with her back to the glass window, so she couldn’t see them, but it was as clear as the sky for (y/n).

And (y/n) wanted to look away, she really did. Yet for some reason, she just couldn’t stop staring at the happy couple. She watched as Liz reached a hand out to wipe something off the corner of Peter’s lips. She watched as Peter laughed shyly. She watched as he hesitantly tried to hold Liz’s hand on the table. She watched as Liz grinned and took his hand in hers.

She watched as they smiled at each other like they were the only people in the world and she was nothing but a speck of dust.

She watched, with bitter heart and a sorrowful smile as she told herself, as long as he’s happy, right?

——————————

5: Broken Heart

——————————

How could this have happened?

They were having such a great time together!

So why...?

“Peter, I’m so sorry…”

“It’s not your fault, why are you sorry?”

“I was the one who pushed you to ask her on a date…”

Peter chuckled. He tried to look unbothered, but he was still so easy to read. (Y/n) could basically hear the pieces of his broken heart rattling around as he moved.

It hurt her more than seeing him with her.

“Well, you couldn’t have known everything, (y/n),” Peter said. “Besides, at least I tried, you know?”

(Y/n) bit her lip.

Logically, she should be happy, shouldn’t she? Liz had told Peter that she wanted to remain friends, that she couldn’t be with him. That meant Peter was free for the whole world. Whether or not she had a chance was something else entirely. And yet, she felt extremely guilty.

“I’m okay, really!” Peter grinned with a fake cheerfulness. “I had a great time and I appreciate her telling me the truth instead of leading me on. I’m sure we’ll remain great friends even after this.”

‘But you were never great friends with her…’

“I guess she’s just trying to focus on her studies, you know? Since she’s a senior and all.”

‘But she did lead you on…’

“And you know what they say, there are plenty more fish in the sea!”

‘But you were so fixated on her…’

Peter’s eyes softened when he realized how quiet (y/n) was. “I’m really alright, (y/n). It’s not your fault at all.”

“Besides,” he grinned, this time genuine, “Maybe now it’s my turn to help you find someone! Your help was greatly appreciated and now I can return the favor!”

(Y/n) refrained from smiling sardonically at the irony. The only way he could help her find someone was if he magically fell in love with her, but she knew better than to be wishful like that.

“Thank you, Pete, but that won’t be necessary.”

“Whaaaaat why? I can give great love advice!”

“Yeah? Like what?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Uhh…”

“Exactly.”

“Anyway! When you find someone, tell me, okay? I’ll try my best to help you, since you were so helpful to me.”

Helpful, huh?

Why can’t you see it?

How badly I want to say those words?

Instead, (Y/n) smiled, sorrow seeping into her being. “It was my pleasure.”

——————————

+1: Reverse

——————————

arachnophobia: wanna go out tonight? hecate hasnt been out for a while

ironlady: cant today

ironlady: harley’s coming

arachnophobia: harley? the one whose garage mr stark broke into?

ironlady: yep!! cant wait to see him

ironady: its been a while

arachnophobia: can i meet him?

ironlady: ofc just come here

The moment Peter stepped out from the elevator, he could hear the laughter already. He didn’t need his enhanced hearing to know that (y/n) was positively joyful.

He followed the sound to the penthouse’s living room where he could see (y/n) sitting on the couch. Beside her was a young man his age with sandy blonde hair. Both of them were talking animatedly with each other.

“Hey.”

“Oh, Peter!” (Y/n) turned around, a big grin on her face. “This is Harley Keener, the potato boy dad and I told you about!”

“Potato boy?” Harley frowned.

“It’s either that or problem child 1, which one do you prefer?”

“Tony’s been calling me that?”

“Yep!”

“And what are you?”

“Problem child 2, duh.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

Harley scoffed. “Yeah, right, il mio tarassaco.”

“Hey! Only dad can call me that!”

“I know, I know, don’t get your panties in a twist, Princess Stark.” Harley laughed as he ruffled (y/n)’s hair, much to her chagrin.

Peter couldn’t get one word out. He watched as (y/n) tried to get back at Harley and mess with his hair as Harley dodged her. He watched as (y/n)’s face was overtaken by a huge grin and her eyes lighted up in joy.

“Harley stop it!”

“You started it!”

“No I didn’t!”

“Yes you did!”

“No I didn’t!”

“Yes you did!”

“No I- you know what, I’m not doing this. You haven’t even greeted Peter!” (Y/n) huffed, gesturing at Peter who was still standing still behind the sofa.

“Oh, yeah, my bad,” Harley said. He stood up and dusted his pants, then reached out a hand.

“Harley Keener, at your service,” he grinned.

Peter took his hand hesitantly. “Peter Parker. Nice to meet you.”

(Y/n) beamed at the two of them. “I’ve told him so much about you. I think you guys will be great friends!” She told Peter. “Dad is talking about making Harley his intern too, so you two will be Stark Industries first and only high school interns. Tony Stark’s personal interns, to be exact.”

“Wait, intern?” Peter asked, clearly taken aback. “But don’t you live in Tennessee?”

Harley shrugged. “I’m moving here around next month. Not a lot of opportunities back home, so Tony offered to house and send me to school here. I’m here today to look around before the big day.”

“It’s a shame I can’t go to school with you, though.” (Y/n) complained. “I’m getting bored of this whole homeschooling thing.”

“What can I say, Princess Stark,” Harley said with a teasing smile, “a Princess must remain at her castle.”

“Yeah, well, this Princess can take care of herself and goes out at night alone, what about it?” She rolled her eyes.

“Alright, alright, you got a point, Hecate.”

“I told you, I’m not Hecate right now!”

“He knows about Hecate?” Peter asked.

(Y/n) nodded. “He was the first one to know, even before dad. I told you of how Harley’s been coming here for years, right? He basically knows more about me than dad at this point.”

“That, I do.” Harley said, staring at Peter a little too long. Something dawned on him when he saw something on Peter’s face.

He turned to (y/n) and slung an arm around her shoulders. “Anyway, I gotta run and find Tony now, got things to ask him. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, you know where to find me.”

“Great! See ya later, Princess Stark.” Harley dropped a big kiss on her head and left the room, but not before giving Peter a meaningful look.

Peter was frozen on his spot.

In all his time knowing (y/n), not once did he ever see (y/n) that happy. She looked so carefree, as if she trusted Harley blindly and trusted him to keep her that way. It took him some time to get (y/n) to open up to him. He knew that he couldn’t compare himself to Harley who knew (y/n) longer than him, but for some reason it ticked him off.

But why?

And when Harley held (y/n) close to him like that? It felt wrong to Peter. Then he went and actually kissed her! Well, on the head, but still. Something felt off within Peter and he didn’t really know what or why.

Somehow, it was almost like…

Like it should’ve been him?

“Peter, are you okay?”

Peter was startled from his thoughts when (y/n)’s face suddenly entered his peripherals.

“I’m fine, why do you ask?” He quickly said.

(Y/n) hummed. “You look a bit off, that’s all.”

“It’s nothing, I promise.”

“If you say so…”

“So, uh,” Peter started, “that Harley… How long is he staying?”

“A week, I think. He’ll move in next month, on the 15th.” (Y/n) answered. “I can’t wait for next month, honestly. I missed him so much. Him living with me and dad here would be a blast.”

“When do you want to go out?” Peter asked, changing the subject immediately. Somehow, for some reason, he didn’t want to hear (y/n) talk about Harley anymore. Especially not about how he would be living with her.

“Ah, well… Not this week? Maybe after Harley’s back to Tennessee?”

“...oh.”

“You can still go out without me though! I know Spider-Man must be anxious to get out there!”

“...yeah, you’re right. Uh, you know what, I actually forgot I had to run an errand for May, so I’m going to leave now, okay?”

Peter quickly rushed out. The penthouse was getting stuffy for no reason and he couldn’t stand being there anymore.

What is wrong with me?

——————————

Taglist + Mutuals (let me know if you want me to untag you!)

@spn-assemble-seven @racewife2004 @lukesbabylon @serendipitous-amor @sovereign-parker @ifangirlninja @lyzalovealk @lookuptotheskiesandsee @tommysparker @starlight-starks @marvelexi @lou-la-lou @spiderbibby @hello--zuko-here @everydaymj @galaxystern08 @allegra-writes @spideyspeaches @delicatepeterparker @parkerpeter24 @terrifictomholland @quackeroos @angel-spidey @greenorangevioletgrass @awkward-darkness @chloecreatesfictions @tonguetiedholland @peterbenjiparker @and-it-burns-like-a-fire @sinisterspidey @bi-lmg

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman fluff #spiderman angst #mcu #marvel

271 notes · View notes

cherienymphe · 3 years

Note

I'm dying for a protect and serve post baby drabble sis🌸

Steve’s hands were tight on your hips, fingers hungrily pressing into your curves as he kneaded the flesh. His eyes drank you in in all of your pregnant glory, and his cock twitched inside of you. You were a moaning mess, and Steve smirked to himself.

You always fought, and Steve loved the fight. He thrived on it. On the way your hard eyes would avoid his own. On the way you’d press your hands to his chest, the way you’d turn your head. You never fought back much though. After all, if you pushed him too far, Wanda’s blood would be on your hands.

He loved the look you’d get in your eye when the realization would hit, when you’d remember the figurative ax hanging over your head, and the literal one over Wanda’s. Steve loved the way you’d sag, the helplessness that would bleed into your eyes, all of your fight on the back burner as he opened your legs for him.

Your face was always fixed in anger, hate in your eyes, but your sweet little cunt told a different story. It was always wet and ready for him, and he thanked God every day for the hormones. It had you practically quivering for him, and he was more than happy to take advantage, sinking into your soaking core every chance he got.

Like today.

You’d been asleep, having a pleasant dream from the sound of it, and he’d slid his hands up your legs as you squirmed in your sleep. You were teetering on the edge of consciousness as he slipped his fingers inside of you, forcing you awake as his cock soon followed.

A choked moan had escaped you, reaching back to push him away, but a particularly hard thrust had you faltering, pressing your hands into the bed to keep from collapsing. You had come around him in record time, and Steve had fucked you through it, no intentions of stopping anytime soon.

You were five months along now, and he couldn’t get enough of you. You were so round and plump, carrying his child, and his cock was hard every time he laid eyes on you. He had fucked you in every room of the house, even the basement in front of Wanda so that she’d understand she could never hope to save you. So that you both could understand who held all of the power.

He relished in the way her tearful eyes had widened, his own trained on her as he held you down, pushing into you so forcefully that he had to carry you back upstairs. That was one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever had, only rivaled by the first time he’d fucked you since learning of your pregnancy.

He could feel you fluttering around him, and he knew that you were close. He was close too, hips stuttering, and he pressed his hand to your back. You were going to be such a good mother. He knew it. He could tell from the first moment he saw you, and everything that he’d done to have you was more than worth it.

You came around him with a pained whimper, almost like it hurt you to surrender your body to him. He soon followed, filling you with a low moan, grinding against you as he waited for his cock to soften. You laid on your side when he pulled out, out of breath, and his eyes fell to the mess in between your legs, leaking out of your abused core.

He ran his fingers through your folds, watching the way you shuddered, lashes fluttering as he pushed a finger inside. Steve leaned over you, lips brushing against the corner of your mouth, and tears kissed your lashes.

“Your resistance is cute,” he murmured. “...but this addicting cunt of yours always tells a different story.”

“Stop,” you sniffed, and it made him want to tease you more.

“Is it a lie? Do you not cling to me every time, your walls practically begging me to never leave?”

You moved to get away, but he held you tight.

“I love breaking you, because the truth is that once I have you beneath me, you don’t stand a chance.”

Steve chuckled to himself as you finally slipped out of bed, angrily grabbing your robe to wrap around you. He took his time in following your lead, approaching you. He watched you tense, placing a hand on your shoulder as he leaned in.

“Thor and his brother will be by today...”

You swallowed.

“...so be good,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your cheek.

He remained there, sharply breathing in before continuing.

“Don’t entertain his antics, do you understand?”

You gave a reluctant nod, jaw clenched.

“Nothing would make me happier than reminding both Thor and Loki who you belong to.”

#drabbles

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utterlyinevitable · 3 years

Text

Hurricane (Part 8)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Rating: T+ Warning: angst Summary: A hurricane is falling over Boston. Edenbrook has been evacuated and some very different doctor’s end up seeking shelter together.

A/N: The ending is trash. But it’s my trash. We’ve got one more chapter to go and then that’s a wrap on this project!

________________________________________

Naveen drove the car back to the cabin before parking it on the cobbled drive, the engine shutting off with a quick flick of his key. Still caught in an awkward silence as heavy as the rain clouds above, the trio padded back towards the cabin. Ethan watched Becca out of the corner of his eye, holding a few paces back with Naveen to let her approach the porch first. In the doorway, Sienna was waiting with two bath towels draped over her arms. A wave of relief washed over her petite form as she saw them; her big eyes softening and bottom lip quivering with all the emotions she saved for the worst of outcomes.

“Becca!” Sienna called as she closed the distance between her and Becca, wrapping her soaking wet friend in a hug around a large, plush towel. “Are you okay? What happened?”

For someone who’s life nearly drifted away with the current earlier, Becca seemed strangely quiet and calm. She didn’t even look at Sienna; darkened eyes trained on her peripheral, towards the unrelenting waters. “I’m fine, Si. Just went for a little swim.”

Sienna looked at her with critical eyes, not believing a single word coming out of her friend’s mouth. She would have said something in any other circumstances, but she was too thankful that Becca was breathing at the minute. This conversation would have to wait. She turned her attention to the other rogue swimmer now coming up behind them, handing him the other towel still draped on her arm.

“Ethan, are you okay?” she asked the attending, her trained doctor’s eyes scanning him for obvious injuries.

He took the offered towel gratefully. “Please, there is no need to worry about me.” He wiped his face first then draped the burgundy fabric over his shoulders, shivering as the cold wind caught his wet clothes, “Where’s Jenner?”

Sienna nodded towards the ajar door, her arms still wrapped securely around her best friend. “In with Elijah.”

Ethan nodded and went inside to his dog, sparing one last glance towards a despondent Becca on his way.

With a small, resigned sigh, Sienna turned her full attention back towards her friend and guided her to the door. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up.”

Sienna led Becca inside and up to her room. Elijah didn’t notice the girls as he was in deep conversation with Ethan in the archway to the den. For that, Becca was thankful; they could just slip upstairs and rest.

As soon as the girls reached the threshold of the master suite, Sienna closed the door softly behind them and reached for her friend, her eyes severe now that they were blessed with the privacy they didn’t have earlier. “You okay?” She asked with a concerned hand gripping Becca’s forearm; her tone of voice emitting a firm warning that she would accept the truth and nothing else.

Becca shrugged Sienna off, taking a step back to shed her wet clothes and throwing on her pajamas. Biting her tongue this round, Sienna gathered up the strewn garments into a pile and wrung them out in the bathroom, making a mental note to wash them once the power came back on. Becca didn’t waste a single second before immediately crawling under the covers while Sienna watched with a very careful eye.

Sensing the stare, Becca sighed heavily. “Si, I’m fine. Truly.”

Her friend wasn’t convinced. “That’s what you say, but you were literally being ripped down stream, you could have died.”

“But I didn’t.”

Light pads of sock-clad feet walked to the bed with private determination and sat on the edge of the mattress, her eyes begging. “Talk to me, please.” - a hand reaching for the top of Becca’s thigh - “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

But Becca wasn’t waving, keeping her gaze on the darkwood bedpost in front of her to avoid Sienna’s concerned one. “That I really need to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“Bec-”

There was a knock at the door, making both ladies tense in place. Sienna reluctantly moved to open it and was met with Dr. Banerji’s warm smile, his medical bag cradled against his hip.

Ever in dire situations like this one, the senior doctor never seemed to run out of positive energy. He stepped in the room and glided closer to the bed, a comforting smile decorating his lips. “I’ve come to take your temperature and listen to your lungs,” he informed them. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Becca rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue. She swung her legs off the bed and sat on the edge, letting Naveen inspect her. Thankfully, she only had a few cuts on her hands that were in need of bandaging, most likely inflicted while she fought to hold herself against the current earlier

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he applied ointment and bandages to her palms.

“Tired.”

“As expected,” he nodded. She wasn’t forthcoming, so he made sure to update her on what has been going on downstairs; “Ethan has a gash on his leg. Dr. Greene is stitching him up.” The gossiper in him carefully gauged her reaction while his more romantic side hoped to see something pass along her features, possibly akin to relief, but he was disappointed there was nothing but the tired eyes of a woman who’s been through hell that afternoon.

She felt his critical gaze searching her. The third one silently scrutinizing the last hour; and it made her blood begin to boil.

“I didn’t need rescuing. I know how to combat a riptide. What he did was stupid,” she clarified, indifferent to his comment.

Naveen chuckled and offered her a kind smile, although one that hid a hint of seriousness in it. “We both know exactly why he did it, Becca.”

Becca scoffed and shook her head, looking away.

The older doctor sighed and put away his medical tools. He obviously wasn’t going to get anything out of her tonight, and he’d been around this kind of temperament long enough to know when to resign. It was almost comical just how similar she was to his protégé, especially when it came to their ironclad stubbornness. “You’ve been through a lot today, dear. I’m prescribing you some much-needed rest.”

Becca rolled her eyes.

With a taut smile, Naveen gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder before taking his medical bag and leaving the room.

While Naveen was with Becca, Sienna had excused herself to make some tea. The petite resident was now staring at the kettle, transfixed, but not actually watching the steam spill out into the shadows of night. The worry for her friend still ever present in her mind and the creases on her forehead. In a daze Sienna poured two two mugs full.

She was just setting the kettle back down on the hob when a gruff sound had her jumping out of her trance and turning on the balls of her feet.

“Let me,” Ethan said quietly.

The two shared the same despondent look, though one of them had a deeper reason for it.

Sienna’s eyes expertly roved over him. He’d changed into clean pajamas, his hair wild and partially dry from drying it in a towel. His weight being carried on one side of his body, no doubt from his injury. His eyes were dark, and there were prominent purple circles under his eyes. And his large hand was extended towards her, waiting with all the patience of a dying man.

With a small smile, she hands the mug over without a single reservation.

And Sienna watches intently as Ethan gingerly makes his way through the cabin and up to Becca.

In the few short minutes she was left alone Becca snuggled deeper into the blankets. Rolled onto her side so her back was to the door and her face buried in a pillow begging her to spill everything all over.

Over her tormenting thoughts she recognized the patter of footsteps against the hardwood of the hallway and sniffled all the emotion back. If Sienna saw her crying it’d become a much bigger thing than Becca ever wanted it to be. She’ll save her tears for later.

When the steps grew louder, crossing the threshold, Becca muttered, “You should just sleep here tonight instead of going up and down to check on me.”

“Do you think that’s wise?”

Even in the minimal light of the candle on the dresser Ethan could see her stiffen. Could hear the discontented sigh that escaped her when his words met her ears.

He stood suspended in the doorway, questioning every instinct he thought he knew.

Becca shifted under the sheets, moving to sit up in bed.

“Thought you were Sienna.” Her tone was still and level and wildly indifferent as she chanced a look at him.

“Sorry to disappoint,” he muttered back. Crossing the distance Ethan held out a mug to her; “Are you okay?”

She took the offering, a forced smile on her lips. “Peachy.”

“Becca…”

“I’m fine, Ethan.” She groans, deflating. “What do you want me to say?”

“You can start with why you’ve been upset with me all day.”

Becca couldn’t help the absolutely indecent chortle that erupted from her.

“I’m not upset with you. I’m mad at myself.”

Ethan made a garble akin to Huh?

And that just fueled the fire that’s begun to rage within her the last day and rivals the treacherous storm this hurricane caused.

“Why did you come after me?” She all but spat the accusation. “It was so reckless and stupid. You could have been hurt. You have stitches for Christ’s sake!”

“You could have drowned. I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

The audacity in his unbridled poise had her stirring under the sheets and gripping the mug tighter.

“Superman Complex already belongs to someone else. Why, Ethan.”

It was a standoff between them. Him in his dry clothes - white tee and gray sweatpants, standing at the side of her bed. Becca was shielded by the blankets but still sitting tall and commanding for someone of her stature. He couldn’t read her ever-telling body language in the dim light of the master bedroom. All he could make out was her silhouette, rigid and doing all she could to cloak herself behind an unsuccessful curtain of hair.

Holding onto the sliver of revelation he had earlier, Ethan spoke truthfully.

“Because I care about you. You have such a fulfilling life ahead an-”

It certainly didn’t have the intended impact. For she cut him off with a resoundingly offended;

“Can you stop.”

His darkened azure eyes were wide with panic. “What -”

“I’m sick of these mind games.”

Her tone was flat, and that scared Ethan Ramsey more than anything. It would be better if she was yelling. He found himself wishing she was yelling even if he had no inkling as to what this argument is actually about.

“I know you care about me, Ethan. But is that all this is?”

She finally looked him in his eyes. The darkness of the room complimented the depths of her darkened irises, and he couldn’t see a single emotion in them. All he could see was all of his failures.

“I - I’m in too deep with you. I may have almost drowned this afternoon, but it was nothing compared to this choking feeling of swimming in all this doubt and uncertainty.”

He moved towards her. Placing his mug on the bedside. This close he could just begin to make out the hurt in the creases of her frown.

“Becca,” he reached for her. His hand suspended in midair, waiting for her permission to cup her cheek.

Instead, she looked down at her fingers tracing the Edenbrook logo on the pristine white ceramic mug between her palms.

Ethan waited.

And waited.

Frozen in place until she said something, anything.

“Be honest with me,” the words came out on an exhale. “No one else is around. Just me.” Her voice so frail as she turned her whole form towards him. “Tell me.”

The outstretched fingers on his hand curled inwards. His fist raised -- once, twice punching against an invisible opponent as his inner self weighed all his options.

He could tell her - he could finally be truly honest.

He could do what’s right.

He could lay everything out there and let her take the reins.

More realistically, he could continue to hold onto the values he’d had all his life.

The longer the silence hung between them, and the pattering of the storm echoed throughout the bedroom walls, the more a reality without her became apparent.

Rebecca Lao is a strong woman - he knows this. And Ethan is ever so aware that she won’t wait for him forever. If her stint today told him anything it’d be that it is he who couldn’t survive a life without her.

Every millisecond that passed, every slight turn of her head and stroke of her finger against the mug, he knew he was losing her. And for once, Ethan Ramsey - renowned doctor, known for his belligerent voice and affluent vocabulary - couldn’t find the words.

Just as she let out a disquieting breath, he took the leap. Knees pressed flush against the side of the mattress. Long, deft fingers grazing the quilt at the side of her hip. His eyes never leave her. Becca was looking down as if all hope was lost. As if his silence spoke for him.

It didn’t -

“I want to be with you.”

Becca felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs. How long had she been waiting to hear them? How long has she been hoping Ethan Ramsey would commit to only her with a promise of forever? Far longer than she’d care to admit, that’s for sure.

Ethan watched her lips part, her jaw slacken. Every pretty feature he adored more than life itself stunned stiff.

In true fashion Becca schooled her features as soon as his words rang through the mahogany room. Bitter words formed on her tongue, accompanied by a desolate huff,

“You sure about that?”

Not a single hesitation as Ethan responded, “Yes.”

“You sure have some fucked up way of showing it.” She watched him from the corner of her eye, shifting in his place and a rueful tug at the corners of his mouth.

Ethan kneeled down beside the bed, coming to her level, “I know.”

This is never how Becca imagined getting Ethan Ramsey down on his knees. All those fantasies didn’t join a near death experience or a fight.

His palms spread out on the quilt. All of him itching to touch her. If he could touch her, everything would be okay.

A beat forced itself between them. Ethan staring at his fingers inching towards her above the horrid colored quilt, and Becca looking blankly at the top of his head.

And then she murmured;

“I can’t be with you if you’re going to treat me like shit all the time.”

“It was never my intention. I just want what’s bes-”

“Best for me, I know. But you don’t get to dictate that. It’s my life, I’m a big girl. I can make my own decisions.”

He was listening. He was guilty and listening.

“I want you, Ethan.”

Those words were like music to his ears - to know she really, truly shared the sentiment. His deep blue gaze flickered up to her; staring at her from under long lashes and hanging on to her every word. This was everything they’ve both wanted - a proper admission of devotion. Then why did she look so sad?

“But not if you’re going to keep pulling away from me.”

Ah. There it was. All his faults coming back - his one mistake at abandoning her after she needed him most digging deep.

“I’m sorry. All of this was to protect you. I’ll always, always protect you.”

Becca’s heart skipped a beat at the unbridled conviction in his tone against her better judgment.

“I don’t need a hero, Ethan.” Becca shook her head in kind admonishment. “I want a partner. Someone who will let me make mistakes and just hold me through it at the end of the day.”

A bolt of lightning cracked in the distance. Their stare on one another so strong, devoted, that she couldn’t see through the clear blue of his irises and deep into his soul the moment the fleeting lightness peered in.

“Okay,” was all he said.

He responded quickly and with such fortitude that she couldn’t help but be skeptical.

Becca rose a brow.

Ethan moved closer and grabbed her hand, adding a squeeze.

In a low voice she said, “I want to make the most of the time we have left. If I get a job elsewhere… I don’t want to regret anything.”

His brows pulled together as this little known fact wormed its way into his rationality. “You’re thinking of leaving Edenbrook?” He held onto her hand just a bit tighter.

“I don’t know,” she half shrugged. “If…”

He finished the question for her. “Of course you’ll have a job. The spot on my team is yours.”

“Yeah, I know. But if…” Becca didn’t know how to accurately explain her fears. If they didn’t work out after all this would she still be able to work with him? Would he be able to? What if she received an amazing offer elsewhere. What happens to them if she takes it?

“Can we not think about this right now.”

Taking both her cold hands in his, Ethan simply nodded.

He could feel the scary stirring in the pit of his stomach. Every pang of it subsiding the longer her warmth was within reach. The last of his fears overtaken by the most adorable sound as she stifled a yawn.

Ethan let go of her hand just long enough to brush some strands back from her face. Un-showered and salty from the day’s events her cheek was still soft under his touch. He leaned up to press the lightest of pecks to her forehead.

Ethan was less than a few centimeters away from where she wanted him most. One movement and it could all be right and well. Becca brushed her nose against the stubble of his chin, coaxing him downwards. She could feel his grin against her skin as his stubble marked her nose. Every second he didn’t succumb, the tip grew redder and redder.

Ethan pulled back - too far for a quick descend down to her lips - and Becca almost threw a tempered fist into the mattress. Almost.

He was looking at her with such reverence it made her whole entire body tingle. Like his stares were the hand of Da Vinci trying to capture her image - immortalize it for the rest of time. Trying desperately to paint this to memory - this moment where everything for them seemed to change for the better. This was the moment Ethan Ramsey knew.

Becca was mere inches away. One more movement and she would know - know that he is irrevocably her. One more movement and he’d seal their fate.

Her eyes flickered down to his chapped lips, and this time she didn’t look away. This time there was no enchanting classic playing on the television, just the person before them. This time Ethan was thankful for her focus. He let out the breath he was holding in. Watched her eyelids flutter as the warm gust met her lashes. Leaned in and listened. Listened to the erratic thumping. Thumping of his heart or hers or the hurricane, he didn’t know.

Didn’t care. Couldn’t give a damn about anything other than her.

Their lips met. Softly, tenderly. The shortest, most endearing kiss they’ve ever had. Neither wanting to ruin this with overzealous lust.

They pulled back, unencumbered smiles gracing their features; and then she yawned again.

Light with strange happiness, Ethan gently pressed her back into pillows. Pulled the covers around her to tuck her in.

He kissed her chastely once more. Then pulled away.

Every step he took from her side of the bed had her chiding herself for being so stupid for believing him this time. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

Ethan moved through the darkness. The raging winds of reality jolted through them, pounding on the expansive windows. Getting louder and more unruly the further he got.

But then he did something so unexpected. So surprisingly unlike the man she thought she knew.

He pulled back the covers of the other side of the bed and slipped in. Ethan shifted closer and closer atop the king sized bed until his arm wrapped around her waist, the other snaking under her neck. Becca welcomed him without a single hesitation or ill thought. This is exactly what she hoped for yesterday.

Ethan had that smile - that one smile reserved only for her - as he dove into the covers with her, never intending to come back up. Their sweet embrace was all the sustenance he needed to survive. In this moment - and all of them to come, he’s sure - he and Becca were the only two people in the universe.

The storm outside was moving miles and miles away.

________________________________________

A/N: there was meant to be a cute bathtub scene at the end before they went to bed. it required too much effort so it got the axe. oh well! thanks for sticking around <3

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youwontlikethisblog · 3 years

Text

A lil rant

After watching this episode a fourth time and certain scenes a lot and thinking about it a lot I wanted to explain further than I did in the last post.

I focused a lot on explaining the consensual aspect of their first time and explaining the motivation behind Armando's actions as well as Betty's, but didn't elaborate much more, for one like I said I'm an insomniac and was out of it lol, try writing a post for nearly twelve hours and tell me you wouldn't either. I do see that I should probably draft a lot of my "analysis" when I write them because I am not all there so I don't explain things as well so I'll start doing that so the post are a lot more consistent and clear as opposed to me starting with one point and never finishing it. Anyway now that this disclaimer is out of the way here are my thoughts on said episodes as a writer.

Many times when writing we have to revisit our work as we are writing it. This allows us to pick up on certain plot holes and mistakes as well as even figure out some plot twist in the future. Often times when you know your characters and the moral and ending of your story, the story ends up writing itself and forming it's own path. I've mentioned in past posts that the first draft is to write with tears and blood and the when that's over you clean up your crime scene.

Now, all writers are imperfect and we make mistakes, duh, so there's inconsistent things in this show, like the dog, Camila, Beatriz Valencia, etc.. etc.. however when it comes to the main character's personality there really isn't much of a flaw, in fact they are very realistic and consistent, the actors did a phenomenal job bringing said characters to life, one of my all time favorite details of the characters in this show is how they all have ticks. Guti Guti does that thing with his lips, Patricia flips her hair, Betty worries her lips a lot and when she is explaining certain things she often has this really adorable thing where she rocks on her feet and speaks very certain of what she's saying. Armando has so many ticks that it's hard to keep up with them. Point is they all have so many realistic behaviors that it's hard not to notice them and even harder to disregard them as not part of the story when they are. They are a huge part of being able to credit or discredit the motives and actions that move these characters.

For that exact reason Betty's character in the past few episodes was so heavily important to understand where she was coming from. It wasn't just that she was drinking that got her all riled up and excited that night. It wasn't just that she missed him days without him made her longing and desire increase ten fold. There is always a cause and effect.

What caused Betty to behave this way? How did that effect her relationship? What caused Armando to react that way? How did that effect their relationship? Most importantly, how did this affect them both?

There's a clear understanding of who Armando is and what his secret desire and motive is to make Betty fall in love with him. Though his pride and ego are so huge he can't see past it to dissect and understand his feelings aside from the prejudice he has against women who are not the status quota, in the mildest of all of that there lays one true objective: Betty's heart. We mustn't forget that Armando IS worried about Eco Moda and most certainly that he never wants to admit that he was wrong.

However much like a future dream demonstrates it, Eco Moda is just a farce for his feelings towards Betty. Though outwardly he is motivated by the desperate desire to be validated and loved by his parents, to be better than Daniel, and not admit that he was wrong, inwardly what really pushes him and makes him go after Betty is his desire for her.

How does this start off? He blurs the line at work, where things no longer are just professional coming from him. He makes certain achievements of Betty's in her profession and even morale his own, as if they were a team facing the challenges together. He inserts himself into Betty's life and he inserts Betty into his personal life a lot. With his affairs, his feelings regarding the company and his worries. He trust her as his confidant, as his best friend. He trust her with his feelings more than he does with his actual best friend and his fiancé and this all starts days before the plan is even a plan to him.

The cause of this? Betty's faithfulness and unconditionality.

The effect? He feels like he is special to Betty, as he said himself he had been so special with her(If you haven't yet I suggest that you read the posts Nicolas Mora, Un Amigo, Betty, My Betty! Parts 1-3).

As their relationship progressed his feelings continued to grow to the point that this night, not after he slept with her but before he did, he fell in love. It was when Betty was being vulnerable and apologizing to him for having been overbearing that he fell in love.

However Betty had already been in love with him, way before. She knew him in and out. She knew the good and the bad. She accepted him as is and all she wanted to do was give him her affection and love and that's what she's done, it's all she's done and this feeds a cycle of desire and motivation for Armando where her love motivates him to change, it inspires him to be a better version of himself to make Betty happy because seeing her happy makes him happy, it challenges him to change his own prejudice of society and people. She is a safe haven and she achieves that, how wasn't he supposed to fall in love with her this night when she does exactly that?

Betty's cause to behave like this was her conversation with Aura Maria days before where she questioned if Armando felt more for her than just admiration. She questioned if he too desired her. The effect of that conversation was her testing to see if Armando did in fact feel the same way, that he was on the same page.

It is also so satisfying to see the parallels! Oh how wonderful they are!

The extreme contrast between Betty and Marcela are so visible, so vivid, so in your face that you cannot say that Marcela is a victim of Betty's.

I won't defend Betty's actions for involving herself with a man that was in a contract with another woman(I say contract because it was not an engagement. What Marcela and Armando had was a contract, he did her the favor of marrying her and she owned him.) I understand that she is insecure but she was always shown to have morals and ethics above all, where did those go? Out the window that's where. However I still love her so imma be a supportive mother to Betty and call her out but lend her my two shoulders to cry on, okay?

Moving on.

Betty did not and I will repeat this BETTY DID NOT MANIPULATE OR FORCE ARMANDO TO SLEEP WITH HER.

We get two contrast of the exact same scenario for that exact reason people.

Betty and Marcela literally ask the exact same questions to Armando: Am I making you uncomfortable? Am I bothering you? Do you not want to be with me?(Marcela asked Do you want me to leave?)

However they ask it with different intentions and motivation.

Marcela never pays attention to Armando's body language. Instead she focuses solely on herself, her feelings, and what she wants, this is not a person who is insecure, this is not a person who has no self-worth. This is a person who has a huge ego. MARCELA IS SELF-CENTERED AND SELFISH TO THE CORE. For this exact reason she refuses to let go of Armando because she believes that she deserves him not as a human being but as a trophy to satisfy herself that she tamed a man who sluts it out left and right.

This night we get to see that.

While Betty asked him these questions to make sure he was on the same page as her, that he too desired her just as she desired him; Marcela asked these questions to trap him. She wanted to be like "Aha! You do have a lover! Now I'm going to make your life a living hell because I was right!"

No sis, calm your tits, you need a therapist.

While Betty was legit asking for it, for Armando to consent, Marcela was asking for him to satisfy her. There is a huge, and I mean huge difference between asking for consent and wanting to be satisfied.

Ironically my current WIP pushed me down a rabbit hole on information that explains the dynamics of a survivor and a romantic relationship and how to be a supportive S.O and a lot of the articles I read mentioned the importance of intimacy.

What is intimacy? It is forming a friendship with your S.O and establishing honesty and respect. It comes above the physical aspect of the relationship because it makes you feel safe when things are leading to something physical.

Marcela and Armando don't have that. Armando has even told Marcela that he doesn't want her to have his intimacy. When I first saw that scene I was like "Take a look at this an*s! Why is she with him?" and then I saw why... Marcela be blabbering his business to everyone. She tells everyone that Armando is unfaithful(I mean in that aspect he do be deserving that) but it goes so much deeper than that. The reason he cheats on her is because he is trying to escape, have control, and feel validated and then that feeds her possessiveness over him, which then feeds his desire to cheat(@el-moscorrofio-y-el-mercachifle already made a meme about that lol). She never does anything to gain his trust, instead she demands it and when she doesn't get it she has this "Aha! It's because you're a cheating whore and I'll destroy the woman but stay with you because you belong to me you puny little man! But I will also ruin you if you leave me!" Their relationship sucks. It's honestly just a moral enemies to sex trope. That's it. Like there's nothing there.

Which is not the case for Betty and Armando.

They in fact do have intimacy. They talk about their feelings, they face trials together, as a team, they push one another and inspire one another. They were friends(a lil more than friends doe) long before. In the scene where they are talking in the hotel room Betty tells him she understand him, that she understands that he doesn't feel that sort of attraction towards her and just because she loves him he isn't obligated to sleep with her.

I want to repeat this in cause people are still confused or saying Betty forced Armando to sleep with her: She said :YOU ARE NOT UNDER THE OBLIGATION TO HAVE RELATIONS WITH ME JUST BECAUSE I WANT TO.

What does that sound like to you?

Imma wait for crickets.

When Armando then tries to engage into relations she pulls away and tells him that he doesn't have to.

She is literally placing his needs, his feelings, before her own, however Armando has just barely fallen in love and he wants to. He wants to sleep with her. He wants to engage in fornication and sinful actions with Betty.

He gets frustrated when Betty tells him that he doesn't have to and we know it's because he hates it when people, especially Betty, invalidate his feelings or efforts. The fact that Betty now was telling him no upset him because he did want to sleep with her, however he did not pressure her either. He explained why he did want to sleep with her and when she consented and he too consented they sinned.

However later that night we get almost the exact same scenario but with a different tone.

Marcela, after they argued, sits by his bed where he is laying down and goes to take off his tie and tells him that she desires him. Armando was laying still he told her he was tired, wanted to wash up and go to sleep before she did this. He did not look nor welcome her actions, which is different from when Betty told him that she wanted to make him feel better. In that scene Armando asked her how she was going to do that and when she said with her kisses, they both leaned in to kiss. This time Armando just lays there, like all the other times before but he looks at her with a cold stare.

When he jumped back from Betty when they were making out, Betty asked him what was wrong and he expressed himself.

However this time when Marcela asks him her tone is different. This time she's angry at him as she yells at him to deny that he has a lover now.

Marcela wasn't looking to be with her man, she was looking for her man to be with her. She wanted him to prove to her that he hadn't been sluting it out(like how was he supposed to prove that when she been knew that he still went and slept with her after he slept with whomever? Like she knew he did that and she still consented? WHAT? which y'know feeds the notion that she just wanted her socks rocked) but it contradicts what she says the next day to Patsy Pats at the office. Marcela just wanted him to satisfy her. She wasn't looking for it to be team work, she was looking for it to be about her.

This is why that night was so important. These little scenes, movements, play on words and parrales are there to show us two different relationships; a healthy one and a toxic one.

Marcela didn't respect Armando's no, she just had no other option because this time he wasn't just laying there letting her do what she wanted, this time her emotional manipulation didn't work, this time her seggsual manipulation doesn't work so unless she was gonna r-word him than she had no other choice but to be pissed about it.

Betty did respect Armando's no. She tried to explain herself and apologize to him. She even double checked with him when he told her he did want to. Betty was willing to not have relations with Armando if he didn't want to, for the sake of their relationship and what they have, she would not jeopardize their relationship just to get her socks rocked nor would she make him feel guilty for it.

It wasn't a happy little accident that we get these parrales in one episode.

Understanding the cause and effect helps us determine this.

Understanding the character's inner desires and dilemas helps us understand this.

So no, once again, Betty did not force Armando to sleep with her. Everything before, during, and after that scene shows us and tells us this.

We get both a cause and effect with the added bonus of show, not tell.

This novela reads like a book, so there isn't much of a speculation when we are being shown to compare both of these relationships when they are saying the same things, in the same scenario but with different tone and reaction from the character of interest in both scenarios.

The purpose of this novela was to break social norms of how certain women and men are presented in the media and to question why that is. It isn't simply a love story, if it was I wouldn't be able to watch it as stuff like that makes me want to puke, again this is all a funny ironic joke that someone is playing on me.

[EDIT:

Another key things to take into account(I mentioned it in the Forgive Me post) is that even Mario's tactic to manipulate Armando had nothing to do with Eco Moda or his ego. It had everything to do with Betty's feelings and Armando's desire to make her happy. That same day Mario took notice of Armando's behavior towards Betty at the office and the guilt he felt over forgetting her B-day. Mario played with Armando's feelings and he pushed his buttons to see just how much it mattered to Armando.

When Armando said at the bar that he couldn't go through with it, Mario told him he was convinced, a sincere reaction of his, and he didn't have to do it anymore. However when Armando said he couldn't do that to Betty because she was really looking forward to it, Armando was smiling when he was talking about her enthusiasm to spend time with him, and Mario took notice of that.

So again, Armando did want to sleep with Betty, he just didn't want to do it under deceit or manipulation. He didn't want to be Betty's "First" under those conditions and Betty didn't force him.

My rant is over.

[EDIT: On the Forgive Me post I went back and did two corrections, they are in bold so if y'all want to read them, that would be awesome :)]

#don armando #armando mendoza #armando ysblf #betty pinzón solano #beatriz pinzón solano #beatriz pinzon solano #betty ysblf #yo soy betty la fea #morch #marcela ysblf #marcela valencia

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cakesunflower · 3 years

Text

Outer Banks Series Rewrite/JJ Maybank Fic Series [5. Midsummers]

Disclaimer: None of the characters (except for Stella) or their dialogues (for the most part) are my own, and belong to the writers & creators of Outer Banks!

Previous Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read on AO3!

Here’s episode 5 “Midsummers”!

“Dude—Mom catches you out here, and you’re dead.” Stella peeked one eye open, catching sight of her sister standing over her, arms crossed over her chest and eyebrows raised. “You’re literally out in the open.”

Kie’s concern came from the pen Stella was currently twirling between her fingers as she lay on the ground in their backyard. Stella didn’t say anything, instead took another pull from the pen, letting the familiar smoke invade her lungs before blowing it out slowly. The act did its job in calming her down, and Kiara let out a sigh before shifting to sit down next to Stella, before going down on her back, too.

Stella could feel her sister’s gaze on her as Kie turned her head to look at her, but Stella kept her gaze up at the sky. It was sort of cloudy, but there wasn’t a threat for rain. If there had been, the celebration later tonight would’ve been rescheduled ages ago.

“Look, I know you’re worried about JJ—” Kie began, but Stella cut her off.

“He willingly let himself get arrested for something he didn’t do, and he has a drug-addict, abusive dad to go back home to. We haven’t heard from him yet.” Stella looked at Kie, then, jaw hard. “Of course I’m worried.”

Kie’s gaze was soft with sympathy, but Stella could see her own concern swimming, too. After all, Kie cared about JJ as well. Maybe not in the way Stella did, but just as good. “He’ll turn up,” Kie assured. “He always does.”

Despite Kie’s efforts, Stella wasn’t all that comforted. And maybe Kie saw the deep worry that had etched itself into Stella’s features, because Kie’s face softened even more, looking at her sister gently as she asked, “What’s going on?”

Stella’s throat worked as her heart drummed in her chest, forcing herself into a sitting position while Kie kept on her back, looking up at her. For a moment, Stella hesitantly chewed on her lower lip, wondering if now was the right time to indulge, but it was Kie. It was her sister, and if Stella couldn’t tell her, she couldn’t tell anyone.

“JJ and I kissed.” There. She said it. Now it was out in the open.

Kie blinked once before her eyes widened almost comically, shooting up in a sitting position opposite of Stella as she demanded, “What? When?”

“Yesterday,” Stella admitted, stomach flipping as memories of her and JJ’s actions played through her mind like her favorite movie. She couldn’t stop the small smile from playing on her lips. “We were at John B’s, before coming to the summer series.” She fiddled with the pen between her fingers. “It just—it kind of just happened.”

Kie scoffed with a shake of her head. “It didn’t kind of just happen,” she mocked. “This has been waiting to happen for so Goddamn long.” Stella tried not to laugh at the happiness shining in Kie’s eyes, which did a lot to relax Stella. She’d been worried Kie would ram on her for breaking one of their friend group rules, but Kie seemed anything but disappointed. Her eyes widened then, shoulders lifting. “Oh, shit, John B and Pope owe me twenty bucks!”

Stella blinked. “I’m sorry—what?”

Kie snickered, looking all too delighted. “We kind of had a bet going on over how long it’d take for you and JJ to get together.” Stella’s eyes widened, jaw dropping in disbelief. “I bet it’d happen before Midsummers and would you look at that! You just made me forty bucks richer, sis.”

“Wha—” Stella cut herself off with a scoff, ripping up some grass before tossing it at Kie. She shrieked through a laugh, jerking back before brushing away the pieces of grass. “Are you kidding me?! You guys bet on us?”

“Of course we did,” Kie responded with a smirk, not at all looking apologetic. At Stella’s gaping expression, she rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Stel. You two have been dancing around each other for so fucking long. We were getting tired of waiting, so we thought we’d have some fun with it,” she finished with a shrug.

Stella couldn’t believe what she was hearing, cheeks heating up at the information. She wasn’t mad or upset that her sister and friends bet on when she and JJ would get together—she was just surprised, and a little bit amused. She wondered how long the bet had been going on for. But instead of asking that, she instead inquired, “So I’m guessing JJ and I are in the clear for breaking the no Pogue-on-Pogue macking rule?”

Kie waved her off, smile still in place. “You two are the exception to the rule,” she said confidently before crossing her legs and shooting Stella an expectant look. “So? Tell me how it was.” She quickly held a hand up. “But not too many details because it’s JJ and he’s like my brother and, ew, gross. But I still wanna know! How’d it happen?”

At that, the heat in Stella’s cheeks intensified into a fire as she recalled every single detail from yesterday—as if she could ever forget. “I was, uh, persuading him to come to the summer series with us.”

Kie’s eyebrows shot up. “Persuading, huh?” she repeated with an impish grin, prompting Stella to let out a giggle. “Well, looks like it worked. Not that I’m surprised. That boy is stupid for you.”

Stella pressed her lips together to keep her giddy smile from widening. “Stop.”

Kie snickered. “Man, you two are gonna be unbearable now, aren’t you? All over each other all of the time.”

“Dude, I don’t even know what we’re doing,” Stella instantly responded with a shake of her head. “All we did was kiss. We’re not suddenly together, Kie.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Only a matter of time.”

Stella’s heart fluttered in her chest. Of course she wanted to be with JJ—it was all she could think about for so long. After that kiss, it was closer to being a reality than she could ever imagine, but they needed to talk about it, first. “Maybe. But first he needs to let us know he’s okay and that his dad didn’t fucking kill him.”

Her words were tight in her throat as she said them, sending a new jolt of worry through her. JJ never really talked about it, but she knew the kind of man his dad was, knew what he was capable of. JJ getting arrested wasn’t going to go over well; it wouldn’t with any parent, but God only knew how Luke Maybank would react to it. So, yeah, Stella was sick with worry over JJ, and she just fucking wished he’d call or text her back.

Kie sighed. “Listen, maybe—”

Whatever Kie was about to say was interrupted by their mother’s voice shouting at them from the back porch. “Girls! Get in here! You need to start getting ready.” Simultaneously, both Stella and Kie threw their heads back and groaned, loudly—loud enough for Mrs. Carrera to hear them. “I don’t wanna hear it! Get your butts in here now!”

They stood up, and as Stella shoved her pen in the pocket of her shorts, Kie grumbled, “I hate everything.”

While every other soul on Figure Eight either was overjoyed to be attending Midsummers or envious that they couldn’t, Stella and Kiara were probably the only ones who hated the party. For Kie, it was more of a socialist thing that Stella respected her for, but she also knew that her sister’s disgust with Midsummers, ultimately, existed for the same reason as Stella’s: they hated the people they were surrounded by.

All of the Kooks would be gathered tonight for the party—this year a celebration for Ward Cameron, A.K.A the father of Sarah Cameron, Kie’s worst enemy. Stella didn’t care what the party was for—she despised it. The most Stella liked to dress up was in clothes of her choice, and sure that could sometimes include make-up and dresses, but not full on evening gowns with flowers in her hair. It often felt like she was getting dressed up as a lamb for a slaughter, being pushed into a crowd of Kooks who thought they were better than everyone else because of their overflowing pockets. The adults were bad enough—Stella did not want to even see the people her age.

Namely Rafe, Topper, Kelce, and anyone who was associated with them. Especially after what they did to JJ and Pope yesterday. Dicks.

But Midsummers, much to both Stella and Kie’s chagrin, was important to their parents, especially their mother. So as soon as the two girls returned inside the house, Mrs. Carrera was ushering them towards the bathrooms, like they were toddlers who needed supervised bath times.

“Hold on a second—” Mr. Carrera paused, and Stella and Kie exchanged looks when their mom sniffed the air around them. Her eyes then zeroed in on Stella, hands on her hips and eyes blazing as she demanded, “Did you just smoke, Stella?”

Knowing there was no point in lying, Stella huffed. “I needed something to take the edge off if I have to go to this stupid party.”

This wasn’t the first time their mom caught them smoking or smelling of weed, but it pissed her off just the same. While Kie tried to stifle a smile, Mrs. Carrera glared daggers at her Stella. “You’re not getting out of this, Stella. You better drown yourself in body wash and perfume when you get ready.”

Stella rolled her eyes behind her mom’s back, but listened all the same, albeit reluctantly. Kie was the first to hop into the shower in their shared bathroom, so Stella took the time to lay in her bed and unlock her phone, hoping to see a text or missed call from JJ. Her heart jumped when she saw just one text from him, chest tight as she read it quickly.

JJ: Don’t worry about me. I’m good. I’ll see u later.

That was it. Just ten words of reassurance and then nothing. Part of Stella was relieved to have received anything from him at all, but another part still felt worried and a little annoyed. She—all of them—had been worried sick over him after yesterday, and this was all he could say? Stella figured she shouldn’t be too surprised. It was typical JJ behavior. He got in a bind and somehow got himself out of it, and never really let his friends in on if anything was wrong. But the tough guy persona could only get him so far.

Chewing on her lower lip, Stella drafted a text, but not to JJ. Instead, she sent a message to John B.

Stella: You heard from JJ? Do you think he’s okay?

John B responded within moments.

John B: Yeah, it’s all good. I’m with him right now. We’ll see you guys tonight, alright? Keep an eye out.

Stella blinked at the cryptic message, wondering what the hell he was talking about. But if recent circumstances were any indicator, something was probably going down tonight. Stella’s stomach flipped in both apprehension and excitement. These boys might be the death of her.

Soon enough, Kie was out of the bathroom and it was Stella’s turn. She showered and brushed her teeth, stepping back into her room to catch sight of a satin slip dress with a halter neck waiting for her on her bed. It was a pretty golden color with a V-neck trimmed with lace, and a pair of white and gold sandals were waiting by the bed, too. Stella huffed, the towel wrapped tightly around her. She knew for a fact that her mother thought she needed to have everything out for her otherwise Stella would be useless in getting dressed for Midsummers. It was kind of insulting.

Stella expertly dried her hair, letting the natural curls come into place, before doing her makeup. She kept it light, as always, because not even Midsummers was going to make her slap on a face full of makeup, especially in the middle of summer. Some foundation, mascara, highlighter, and lipstick was as far as she went, with her jewelry consisting of a dainty diamond star necklace and the rings on her fingers.

“Oh, good, you’re dressed,” Mrs. Carrera said upon entering her room. “Come on, let me do your hair.”

Stella frowned but listened, sitting down in front of her dresser while her mom stood behind her. She worked quickly and efficiently, braiding back the two front locks of her hair and intertwining small yellow flowers in them that Stella tried not to wrinkle her nose at.

As her mom worked, Kie wandered into Stella’s room. Her slip dress was spaghetti strapped and a lavender color, a couple of layered necklaces around her neck, and her hair down in an updo with a crown of pink and purple flowers and locks of curly hair framing her face. She looked stunning, even with that scowl she wore as she stormed into the room.

“This is disgusting,” she announced without preamble.

Mrs. Carrera wove another flower into Stella’s braid, her voice dry above her as she responded, “I know. It’s just horrible. I’m asking you two to relax and go to a fun party.”

Kie scoffed, towering over their mom. They may be twins, but Kie somehow got the tall gene from their dad, standing at the elegant 5’8”, while Stella hadn’t grown past 5’5”. “We look like bourgeoisie pigs.”

Stella tried to keep the snort from escaping, covering it up with a cough as their mom finally patted down Stella’s hair, letting out a satisfied hum before stepping back. She shot Kie an exasperated look and said, “Will you please not worry about socioeconomic injustice for one night?”

Kie scowled and Stella’s face scrunched up. This was so much more than that. She twisted around in the seat and stood up, crossing her arms and siding with Kie, “Mom, people not three miles from here have no power, no running water—and we’re going to Midsummers.”

Kie nodded vigorously, gesturing to Stella. “That’s so tone deaf.”

Mrs. Carrera huffed, picking up the little pouch she’d dropped on the dressing table and pulling out the diamond earrings. As she put one in, she said, “Do you know how hard we had to work to get into the Island Club?”

Both Stella and Kie rolled their eyes, having heard this a hundred times before. “Yeah, Mom, how could we forget?” Stella sighed. “You had to grovel for, like, ten years—”

“Twelve,” Mrs. Carrera corrected, “and we also had to cough up a huge chunk of dough, and do you know why we did that?”

Kie wasn’t impressed. “To keep up with the Joneses?”

Mrs. Carrera’s hands were on her hips, looking at her daughter pointedly. “No. So you two could have the experiences that I had as a child. Sweethearts, do you know what the Island Club is?”

“A factory farm for debutantes,” Kie flatly said at the same time Stella said, “Where brain cells go to die.”

Kie gave her a subtle fist bump as their mother glared at them before smiling exasperatedly. She placed one hand on each of their cheeks, looking at both of them as she said, “It is a nice place, with nice people, where you can do fun stuff.”

Neither of them bought the company line. “With out of touch rich people,” Stella added.

Kie rightfully finished, “While the island sinks slowly into the ocean.”

Their mom dropped her hands from their cheeks, stepping back and shooting them a look. Clearly, she was done trying with her stubborn daughters. “Okay, I want you two to put on your party faces if you wanna live,” she said before walking out of the room.

Both Stella and Kie sighed, looking at each other in resigned defeat. Stella picked up her pen, offering a half hearted smile. “Wanna take a hit before we go?”

Kie scoffed, taking it from her. “Or maybe ten.”

Less than fifteen minutes later, the girls were at the Island Club with their parents, and instead of doing the polite thing and greeting the other party goers, Stella spotted a familiar face and grabbed Kie’s hand, jerking her chin to where Pope was working out on the lawn at the grill. She’d almost forgotten that he was working the party with his dad. Thank God for small miracles.

As they approached him, his back to the girls, Kie startled Stella by speaking in a terrible British accent, “Excuse me, sir. Do we have to shuck these ourselves?” Pope swiveled around as Kie grinned and Stella shook her head in bemusement. “’Cause it might mess up my costume.”

Pope chuckled. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” he asked and Stella stepped forward with a laugh, slapping her hand against his, front and back, before ending with a snap of her fingers. Their handshake. As he repeated the act with Kie, Pope added, “That accent was bad.”

Kie nodded. “It was. I was gonna let it go.”

Stella scoffed. “I wish you had,” she said as they came to stand next to Pope, arms folded across her chest. The three of them observed the scene before them, of all the guests gathered around in their fancy dresses and suits, drinking from flutes of champagne or drinks from the bar. “You ever seen this many Kooks in one place?”

“Yeah. Last year,” Pope answered.

Kie was squinting against the sun, but just like Stella’s, her brown skin glowed a pretty golden color against it. “We’re in the lion’s den.”

“Exactly.”

Pope glanced at the two of them, gaze lingering on Stella longer as he asked, “Have you heard from JJ?”

Kie shook her head. “No.”

“Just a text,” Stella answered, prompting Kie to look towards her, raising an eyebrow. Stella’s lips pursed. “He said he was okay and not to worry about him. But I won’t really believe it until I see him.”

“He’ll be all right,” Kie said, frowning to herself. “He’s got the survival instincts of a cockroach.”

Stella swallowed inaudibly. Kie wasn’t really wrong.

“It’s all my fault,” Pope said, the guilt thick in his tone as he frowned at nothing. He looked like he might be sick over everything that’s happened.

Stella frowned as Kie said, “Uh, you didn’t do this, Pope.”

“Yeah,” Stella chimed in firmly. “Topper almost killed you. Remember?”

He shot her a dry look. “Not something I can forget.”

Stella shot him a small smile. “JJ was just trying to do right by you. He—he knew what he was doing.” She stumbled over her words briefly because, well, she wasn’t entirely sure if she believed them. She believed that JJ thought he was doing the right thing, but getting arrested was no small thing. He was just adding onto his record, and this time for something he didn’t even do. JJ put loyalty above anything else, and it was one of her favorite things about him—until it landed him in trouble he might not be able to get out of.

Midsummers, as expected, was boring as usual. The adults drank and the teens snuck in their own alcohol in hidden flasks, dancing to the music from the live band while almost everyone kissed Ward Cameron’s ass. Stella stuck by Kie’s side, mostly because she didn’t care for anyone else there and because Kie kept glaring at Sarah Cameron, who looked like the perfect Kook princess. She was missing her not-so-Prince Charming, Topper, who seemed to be sticking by Rafe and Kelce’s sides than with Sarah. Hmm. Interesting.

At one point, Stella excused herself to go to the bathroom, walking inside the country club and down the hall. She did her business, ignoring the giggles of the few other girls inside as she washed her hands. Just as she stepped out of the bathroom, however, she let out a gasp and stumbled into the doorframe as a figure rushed off in front of her, her gaze instantly following.

She’d recognize those blonde locks anywhere.

Stella’s heart thundered, gripping the doorframe tightly as she called out, “JJ?”

*****

Despite the severity of needing to find a hiding spot or escape, the sound of Stella’s voice had JJ stopping in his tracks. He turned, catching sight of her down the hall, too far down the hall, looking every bit as breathtaking as he expected her to in a golden dress that hugged her so perfectly. And the way she was looking at him—the surprise and relief and tenderness he was sure she reserved just for him—had JJ’s heart pounding right out of his chest, and not just because he was trying to save himself at the moment.

“Stella—” JJ stopped, looking through the glass of the doors, seeing Rafe, Kelce, and three of their suited up buddies purposefully making their way over. “Shit.” His blue eyes met her concerned brown ones. “Sweetheart, I’ll explain everything later, but I gotta run right now. Just—I’ll see you in a little, okay?”

“Wait, JJ—”

But he didn’t stick around, as much as he wanted to, and instead turned and ran off just as he heard Rafe and his buddies walk in. They’d spotted him talking to Sarah because he’d needed to give her a letter from John B, after he’d spoken to and received a surprising hug from Pope, and now they were hot on his ass looking to throw more punches. JJ’d already received a beating from his dad—he didn’t need anymore, thank you very much.

Except he made his way into the men’s room, and Rafe and his buddies were pretty fast and managed to corner him no problem. Five against one—this was totally fair. Assholes.

Rafe pushed him and JJ grunted, struggling as Kelce came up behind him and locked an arm around the front of his neck, the other keeping his head in place as JJ grabbed at Kelce’s arm to loosen the grip. He struggled, heart pounding, as Rafe looked at his friends. “Hold him still. What—what do you think? A four iron, right?” He mimicked holding a golf club. “Keep his head still. I’m gonna line this up.”

JJ didn’t make it easy for Kelce to keep him still. “Very Rafe of you,” JJ said through gritted teeth. “Five on one?”

Rafe looked pristine in his stupid blue suit and bowtie. JJ hoped he’d choke on it. “If you could please stop talking? It’s very disrespectful. I’m trying to hit a ball.” Oh, fuck no. “Learn your etiquette, my friend.”

JJ kept grunting, struggling against Kelce, using his hands as much as he could to try and get away. JJ’s voice was hoarse against Kelce’s grip as he spat back, “I’m gonna kick your teeth in.” As much fire as there was in his voice, JJ wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to deliver on his promise. Not when the odds were stacked against him.

Rafe smirked sardonically, crouching to look up at JJ with a mocking sort of sympathy. “Your face looks really bad. Starting to look like your dad a lot more.”

The insult was grating, especially given that the bruises and cuts on his face were courtesy of his father. JJ couldn’t do much more than spit in Rafe’s face. He jerked back, wiping the saliva off his face as he grinned. “Oh, shit. Alright. It was—”

The lights began flickering. “Gentlemen!” Kelce roughly let go of JJ and pushed him off, prompting the blonde to struggle before he righted himself. The security guard approached them. “Is there a problem?”

“Oh! Pardon me, officer. No, there’s not an issue. I just—” JJ cut himself off, his breathing labored as he panted to catch his breath. He looked at the others and JJ ran his fingers through his hair before deciding on a different course of action. One he knew would likely get him out of this. “Actually, yes. No, there is an issue. Uh, we got a criminal trespass in progress here. Beep!” He waved a finger around. “Call it in, right?” The others looked at him, trying to appear casual and like they weren’t doing anything wrong. “Blatant disrespect for private property.”

Rafe clicked his tongue, scratching his ear. “Yeah.”

JJ turned to the guard. “I’m in violation of all kinds of shit, sir, but these young gentlemen—” He made a show of righting Kelce’s bowtie before he jerked him away.

“Don’t touch my shit,” Kelce said lowly.

JJ continued, “Uh, caught me, sir, and they’re about to take me away. And that’s what you should do.” He held his fists up like he was ready to be handcuffed. Again. “Escort me out of here. You got me.”

The guard grabbed his arm. JJ was relieved. “Come on.”

“All right.” JJ looked over his shoulder as the guard pulled him out, looking at the Kooks. “Fix that tie, son,” he said to Kelce before looking at Rafe. “You’re lookin’ spiffy, too. You Powerpuff Girls have fun,” he turned back around.

Rafe took a step forward, his voice smug. “Tell Stella she looks pretty hot for a scarred Pogue.”

Fire erupted in JJ’s veins at Rafe’s comment, a newfound anger rushing through him at the blatant insult from the son of a bitch. JJ didn’t care who they were—nobody talked about Stella like that. Not at all, not in front of him. JJ’s body moved at his own accord, a low growl escaping him as he jerked away from the guard and tried to launch himself at Rafe, consequences be damned of a five against one. The asshole insulted Stella. JJ couldn’t just let him get away with that.

He rushed towards Rafe, only for Kelce to jump in and push him away as the guard came to his back and pulled him away. “Hey! Stop it. Come here! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

But JJ struggled, the urge to bury his fist in Rafe’s face overwhelming after his words. “You think I’m afraid of you, bro?”

The guard pulled him back. “Come on.”

JJ turned and was guided out as Rafe’s voice followed him out of the locker room. “Hey, safe travels back to the cut!”

JJ shouted back, “This ain’t over!”

The guard didn’t let his grip on JJ go as he guided him down the halls and towards the doors, his grip tight as they burst through the doors out onto the patio. “Look, man, I can walk myself!” JJ exclaimed, earning gasps and looks from the guests at him being escorted out. “I got legs. Can you see that, brother?”

The guard didn’t seem to care. “Come on.”

“I really appreciate what you did back there. Let me just walk out by myself.” He struggled against the guard’s grip before spotting the older gentleman from earlier who had asked JJ for a drink. At this point, JJ didn’t care for the attention he was drawing on himself, stumbling over to where the man stood. “Mr. Dunleavy, I see you got your drink. Good, that’s really nice of you. I’m actually gonna down that,” he said quickly before grabbing the drink and downing the whiskey in one gulp.

The man gaped at him, the guard apologized before pulling JJ away. Everyone was watching, murmuring, and JJ never had mastered the art of subtlety, so he made a commotion as he was so kindly escorted out. Might as fucking well go out with a bang.

“Let go of him!” JJ turned at the sound of Stella’s voice, standing up on the patio with Kie by her side. Their parents were behind them, quietly telling Stella to stay quiet while her gaze met JJ’s. He stopped, kind of fucking mesmerized by the sight of her. “You can’t just boot him!”

The guard stopped, still holding onto JJ, who was still watching her. “Excuse me, ma’am?” the guard asked.

“I invited him here,” Stella continued, her voice loud and carrying over the newfound silence amongst the crowd. Everyone was looking at her, but she didn’t seem to give a shit, and JJ kind of fell in love with her all over again.

Next to her, JJ could hear her mom say, “Stella, stop it.”

“No, she’s right,” Kie spoke up, glaring at her parents and then at the guard. “We’re members of this club.”

“Girls, stop it,” Mr. Carrera seemed to be saying to them.

JJ took the opportunity of the guard being distracted to jerk out of his grip and push him, wincing as the man went stumbling into a waiter carrying a tray full of glasses that went shattering on the ground. “Sorry about that!” JJ said over the commotion before looking towards the girls. He pointed at them, blonde hair falling over his shoulders. “Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, ladies.” His gaze found Pope’s amidst the crowd’s. “Pope, you as well, all right? Rixon’s cove. Let’s roll.” He was walking backwards, people making their way for him as they all gaped at him in disbelief and annoyance. JJ looked back at the girls, holding his arm up. “All right, girls, come on.” He gripped his wrist. “Workers of the world unite. Throw off your chains!”

His gaze met Stella’s, who was watching him in, what he realized with relief, was amusement. He saw the looks she and Kie exchanged, a silent communication going on between the twins while their parents most definitely murmured warnings at them. And then, much to JJ’s relief, Stella and Kie broke away before running down the stairs.

JJ grinned widely, finally facing John B, who had been watching the whole thing with a grin. “Colonel.”

John B returned the salute JJ offered him. “Captain.”

JJ grinned. “Mission accomplished, sir.”

John B laughed as JJ shouted for the girls, watching as Pope pulled off his apron and handed it to his dad before running towards John B and JJ, all the while Mr. Heyward yelled, “Don’t do this! Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

But Pope didn’t listen, instead high fived John B and JJ, before John B ran off ahead and the two of them faced the girls running over, as well. Kie and Pope ran side by side, laughing, and JJ opened his arms so Stella could run into his embrace, and he laughed into her neck as he lifted her off the ground with a spin before setting her down, grasping her hand in his, and following the others as they ran.

“Later, losers!” John B shouted over his shoulder towards the partygoers.

Stella was laughing, the sound brilliant and wonderful in JJ’s ears as Kie cheered while they ran. JJ couldn’t help but laugh as well. It may have been a shitty couple of days, but at least he had his friends.

*****

The fire crackled between them as Stella sat on a log next to JJ. The cicadas were chirping against the otherwise quiet of the night, and JJ had changed out of the waiter get up and was back in his signature hat, shirt, and shorts combo. The sight of the shark tooth necklace Stella had gifted him around his neck always made her chest tighten in the best way. She and Kie were still in their Midsummers dresses, but mosquitos and bugs never bothered Stella, so she sat comfortably as the fire warmed them.

She kept looking towards JJ, though—at the cuts and bruises on his face. The sight of him injured tightened her chest uncomfortably, made her stomach twist nauseatingly. No doubt his dad had done this to him, and it enraged her. She wished, with every fiber of her being, that she could get him as far away from his dad as possible. It hurt, so badly, to see JJ injured at the hands of his abusive father. JJ, despite what others may see as faults and flaws, was probably the best person she knew. He had such a big heart, a soul that deserved to be loved and protected instead of stepped on and beaten. She desperately wished she could protect him from the cruelty of others. He deserved someone to do that for him.

“Hey, guys. So, like, my dad’s already gonna kill me,” Pope said as he and John B dropped some sticks to feed the fire before sitting down. “So what’s this mandatory meeting about?”

Stella watched as John B looked at JJ, pointing at him as if he needed permission. JJ nodded. “Might as well tell him, man, before we’re gaffed.”

John B smiled like he held some kind of secret. “You ready for this?” he asked, looking at Kie and Stella.

The two girls nodded impatiently. “Yeah.”

The fire glowed against John B’s skin as he looked at all of them. “So, the gold never went down with the Royal Merchant.”

Stella blinked as Pope groaned. “Oh, my God. Here we go again with this.”

Next to her, JJ sat up, holding out a calming hand to Pope. “No, all right, wait. Hear him out, all right?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at Pope and the girls.

John B had a finger to his lips before continuing, “It’s been here this whole time.” He looked to Kie. “It’s on the island.”

Her expression was one of shocked disbelief. “Are you serious?” She looked at John B before laughing in astonishment. “Oh, my God.”

Pope held up a hand. “I’d like to voice my skepticism.”

Stella was still trying to wrap her head around what John B said as he stood up. “I’m sure you would, Pope, but can I please present you with my evidence, sir?”

Pope rolled his eyes. “Proceed.”

John B held up a piece of paper he pulled out from his bag, proceeding to tell them about a letter he had from Denmark Tanny, a slave who had survived the wreck of the Royal Merchant. He showed it to Pope and the girls, telling them that the slaves weren’t mentioned as crew members on the ship, but that his dad found the complete manifest—his big discovery. Stella listened attentively, mouth agape, looking towards JJ who nodded with a smile on his face. He knew all of this already, it seemed. It was probably why he and John B had been together earlier.

“So Tanny used the gold from the Merchant to buy his freedom,” John B was saying. “After that, he bought his farm. Drumroll, please, because that farm is,” he paused dramatically as the group of them slapped their knees with their hands. “Tannyhill Plantation.”

Kie stopped. “Tannyhill?”

John B nodded, standing like a professor giving a lecture. “Yeah. So, after that, he used his money to free even more slaves, and then he sold a shit-ton of rice, which pisses off all the white planters, and then they decide to lynch him. So on the day they were coming to get him, he writes a letter to his son as a farewell, and in the last line of that letter, he leaves a coded message about where to find the gold.”

John B had Stella’s attention as she hung onto his every word, shaking her head as she asked, “Where?”

John B grinned. “Harvest the wheat in parcel nine, near the water.” He held up a hand. “Except, there is no wheat. You see, wheat is code for gold. Check this out.” He walked over to Pope, pointing at something in the paper Pope was holding. Stella leaned over to look as well. “The gold is in parcel nine, near the water.”

Kie laughed in disbelief as Pope murmured, “Holy shit.”

John B slapped his arm. “All we need is an original survey map of the property and we’ve found the gold.”

He was grinning widely as JJ stood up. Pope slowly started, “Okay, so this might have a small chance of being actually true.”

Kie bounced excitedly where she sat. “Dude, it’s like King Tut!” she exclaimed, earning a laugh from Stella.

“I am a genius,” John B announced, just as JJ tackled him into a hug. “Hey, whoa!” They teetered slightly where they stood before JJ lifted John B up. “Hello! Fire! You’re near the fire. You’re gonna burn.”

JJ pulled away and Stella snickered as he said, “I’m so proud of you right now.”

John B nodded somberly. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”

With a shake of her head, Stella interrupted the moment by asking, “Okay, so, guys.” They all looked towards her. “What’s the plan?”

John B pointed at her as JJ made his way back. “Good question. Sarah Cameron’s coming tonight. She’ll bring the original survey map—”

JJ sat down next to Stella just as her eyes widened, gaping at John B before her gaze instantly shot to Kie, who was frowning. “Hold on,” she interrupted. “Sarah? Wh-why Sarah?”

Stella tensed, looking between a bewildered Kie and a hesitant John B. She and Pope exchanged glances, both of them suddenly aware of the tension building in the open space. “Um—” John B trailed off.

JJ took off his head, muttering, “This is gonna be good.”

Stella looked at him, catching the wince he shot her way. Silently, she frowned at him, but JJ shook his head before nodding towards John B, who stood with his fists on his hips. “Sarah, um, she. . . She got me into the archives in Chapel Hill yesterday, and there’s where I got the letter.”

Kie’s face scrunched up even more, looking a mix of pissed off and confused, while Stella gaped up at John B. “You were in Chapel Hill with Sarah Cameron?”

John B’s throat worked. “Yeah, um. . .”

Next to her, JJ announced, “He was mackin’ on her.”

Stella gasped as she stared at him, wide eyed, and JJ nodded somberly while Pope coughed uncomfortably into his fist. Across the fire, Kie was glaring up at John B, and Stella hated the betrayal she could already see melting into Kie’s eyes. John B shot JJ a glare. “I wasn’t macking.”

JJ lifted his chin, unrelenting. “You were totally macking Sarah Cameron.”

He wasn’t helping the situation, so Stella lightly flicked his arm, prompting JJ to immediately look at her, pressing his cut lips together to keep himself from smirking. She narrowed her eyes in warning, and all JJ did was link their arms together and pull her to his side.

“I wasn’t macking on her, okay?” John B spoke up, exasperated. “I was using her for access.”

JJ scoffed lightly. “There was access, alright.”

Stella pinched his side at that, despite the inappropriate laugh threatening to burst. Kie wouldn’t appreciate it, and Stella could tell her twin was seconds away from pushing John B into the fire. “Did you tell her about the treasure?” Kie demanded.

John B’s eyes widened. “I was trying to get into the archives.”

Kie’s voice grew loud with disbelief. “Is that a yes?”

“I. . . I left out key details,” John B said, looking to the others for help. Stella pressed her lips together, pressed up against JJ. If anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything, not with the current situation going on. Poor John B wasn’t going to get help on this.

“Yo, what?” Kie scoffed with a shake of her head. “You let a Kook in on our secret? What about Pogue Lyfe? What about the T-shirt company, bro?”

Suddenly, it was a battle between Kie and John B, and all Stella, JJ, and Pope could do was sit on the sidelines silently and watch. “I was just using her for information,” John B tried.

Kie shot him a wry look. “Why don’t I believe you?”

John B was growing exasperated already, shaking his head at the unhelpfulness of the others before looking back at Kie. “I’m trying to make us filthy rich here, okay, so that we can pay off a boat, or. . . or, uh. . .” He looked towards Pope, “send you to autopsy school to study bed bodies.” Stella’s face scrunched up as JJ suppressed a snort and Pope blinked owlishly. “Look, you guys know me. Do I look like the type of person to fall for Sarah Cameron?”

JJ blinked. “Uh—”

Stella tilted her head at John B. “Do you want us to answer that?” She could guarantee neither he nor Kie would appreciate the answer.

John B held up a hand at Stella. “Just—just stop.”

Kie shook her head, her jaw tight as she frowned deeply. “Look, you don’t know her yet. I do! You can’t trust her.”

Pope chimed in, “Her brother did hit me in the back with a golf club.”

John B looked to Pope. “Rafe and Sara are different human beings.”

JJ’s cheek was resting on top of Stella’s head as he asked Kie, “What did she do to you, exactly?”

Stella sighed. Oh, boy.

Kie held up two fingers and jabbed them forward. “She’s like a. . . a spitting cobra.” Everyone blinked, bewildered. “First she—she blinds you, and then—”

Stella was already shaking her head, sitting up straight as she said to her struggling sister, “This is a bad analogy.”

“Listen to me!” Kie exclaimed, clearly fed up with the situation. “Whatever we get, she’s gonna try to take.”

Her words were met by silence, other than the crackling fire and chirping cicadas. John B stood quietly, throat working, clearly unsure of what to say as JJ and Pope stayed in their own awkward silence, too. Stella suppressed a sigh. It seemed as though it was up to her to smooth things over, even if she did slightly side with Kie in all of this. She didn’t have a begrudging hate towards Sarah like Kie did, but they were sisters, and Stella needed to show solidarity. But she could also, in some way, see John B’s side of things. God, this was gonna be tense.

“Kie,” Stella spoke up carefully, prompting Kie’s gaze to connect with hers. “Whatever John B promised Sarah, that’s his issue. But if she’s the only way we can get the map, then we need to let it happen.”

Kie’s jaw was hard. “I don’t want her involved. I don’t want to deal with her.”

“We won’t,” Stella said, glancing quickly at John B before looking at Kie again. “Let John B deal with her.” When Kie didn’t look entirely convinced, Stella let out a huff. “This is bigger than your beef with Sarah. I know you know that.”

Silence fell upon them for a few moments as they all waited for Kie to respond. She sat quietly, hands gripping the log she sat on, mulling over Stella’s words. Stella, in turn, hoped she got through to her sister. They needed Kie to be on board with this, no matter her issues with Sarah. They’d already gotten this far in their treasure hunt—an old beef shouldn’t hinder them now.

Stella remained quiet, waiting for Kie to make a decision, although she silently enjoyed the sensation of JJ’s fingers ghosting up and down her arm, their arms still linked together. It was calming when others would argue JJ was anything but.

“Fine,” Kie finally gave in and everyone instantly sat up. She glared at John B. “As long as I don’t have to speak to her.” John B pressed his hands together and brought them to his mouth, his grin already forming. “I just hope you know what you’re getting us into.”

After John B profusely thanked Kie for agreeing, they killed the fire and got up before heading back to the van, since they had to drive to meet Sarah. The twigs and leaves crunched under their shoes as they went, but as Pope, Kie, and John B chatted while walking ahead, Stella lingered back and grasped JJ’s hand to slow his pace down.

He looked at her, eyebrows raising. “What’s up?”

Stella looked up at him, her fingers ghosting on his chin. Finally, she let the worry come out in full force as she asked, “Are you okay? Did—” she stopped, throat working to get rid of the lump that formed. “Did your dad do this?”

JJ’s jaw worked, blue eyes glimmering under the moonlight as he looked down at her. “Got a good chunk of money to pay in restitution,” he told her. “The old man’s not too happy about it.”

Despite herself, Stella felt the hot tears sting in her eyes. She preferred the pink in JJ’s cheeks when they were flushed when he was happy or even drunk—not the pink and harsh reds that surrounded the cuts and marked the bruises. Stella wasn’t sure she ever hated anyone as much as she hated JJ’s dad. Her throat was tight, unable to say anything except to croak out his name, “JJ—”

“Hey, hey,” he shushed her, hands coming up to cup Stella’s that had been ghosting along his sharp jaw. He held her hand in both of his before pressing a kiss to it, blue eyes locked in her brown. “I’m okay, Stel. They’ll heal. It’s no big deal.”

Stella scoffed, though her concern remained clear. “You can’t actually expect me to believe that.” The flutters in her stomach returned when JJ kissed her hand, when he looked at her with those baby blue eyes she loved so much. She let out a breath. “You’re sleeping over at John B’s, right?”

JJ offered her a small dimpled grin. “When am I not?”

Stella pinned him with a stare. They’d stopped walking and she knew they had to move soon, but she took a breath. “Whenever you can, either sleep at John’s or you sleep at mine. Okay?”

JJ raised his eyebrows, though she could see his gaze soften at her offer. But he kept the mood light as he teased, “You inviting me to your room, shark bait?”

Her heart jumped. “Wouldn’t be the first time we shared a bed,” Stella pointed out. It was the truth. They shared hammocks, chairs, couches, and beds countless times before.

“Yeah, but it’s different now, isn’t it?” JJ questioned.

She looked at their hands before meeting his gaze again. “Is it?” she returned, throat working in anticipation. This was it. This was Stella asking JJ if whatever was happening between them was real, if something more was going to come out of it than a few kisses shared.

JJ’s gaze was intense, deep in a way she wasn’t used to as it stole her breath. “It is.” Steady, resolute, firm. No room for arguments. Thank fuckinf God.

Stella felt her grin appear before she could help it, relief warming her, and JJ mirrored her smile before ducking his head and pressing his lips to hers. She returned the kiss slowly, gently, not wanting to hurt his cut lips. Her heart jumped excitedly as he kissed her, but it was cut short, unfortunately, when John B’s voice cut through the air.

“Oi! What happened to no macking?”

The two of them pulled apart, but John B was grinning, as were Pope and Kie as they looked at the two of them. Stella’s face flushed as JJ slung his arm around her shoulders before they began walking towards their friends. “I’m sure we can make an exception,” JJ said smoothly, cockily.

John B’s grin was wicked. “If it means you’ll finally stop whining about how much you looooove Stel, then yes we will.”

Stella laughed, cheeks flushing, while JJ spluttered. “I never whined!” he protested as they joined their friends.

Pope rolled his eyes. “That’s true. You just bottled it all up inside because you’re emotionally constipated.”

“Sounds about right. I’m the one who made the first move,” Stella said, grinning widely at JJ’s betrayed expression, laughing as he used his arm around her to push her away. Stella continued laughing, along with the others, as she stumbled away, but didn’t lose her balance because JJ instantly caught her hand and pulled her back to his side.

“Whatever. I like an assertive woman,” JJ said with a charming grin, pressing a kiss to Stella’s temple as they neared the van.

Pointing at Pope and John B as they climbed inside, Kie said, “You two owe me twenty bucks, by the way.”

“No, we don’t!” John B argued as he started the van. “It’s after Midsummers.”

Pope nodded in agreement as Kie grinned wickedly before meeting Stella’s gaze as she sat on the back bench. With a giggle, Stella confessed, “It was actually yesterday. Before the summer movie series.”

John B and Pope’s gazes swung to JJ, who leaned back with his arms propped on top of the back bench casually as he said, “It’s true, boys.” John B shook his head and began driving, and JJ added, “Can’t believe you three bet on us.”

Sitting on the floor opposite of them, Pope scoffed. “Can’t believe it took you two this long to get together.”

“Okay!” Stella spoke up loudly, clapping her hands together once and shooting all of her friends a look. “We’re done talking about this.”

They reached their destination soon after that, a spot off in the middle of the woods where a tower stood, the apparent meeting spot John B had set up at Kildare Hawk’s Nest. As soon as he parked the car, Pope slid open the back van door as JJ slapped his knees. “Hit it, boys! We’re goin’. Recon mission.”

But before any of them could even get up, John B turned to face them. “Yo, uh. . . So, uh, I think I’m gonna do this one by myself. . . Tonight.”

Thunder rumbled overhead as Kie rolled her eyes and Stella and JJ fell back in their seats. She raised her eyebrows as JJ drawled a knowing, “Really?”

John B frowned. “What?”

JJ took off his head. “Nothin’.”

John B sighed, fixing his own hat atop his head. “I don’t want to spook Sarah with the peanut gallery.”

Kie shrugged, voice sharp and annoyed as she looked at John B. “I just don’t understand why we’re involving her at all.”

Stella let out a sigh as she leaned back, JJ now sitting on the ground next to her, his head resting against her leg as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Kie, we’re not involving her, okay?” John B said, exasperated. “It’s—it’s just, uh, like a—a business meeting. . . Thing.” On the ground, JJ made a crude motion with the joint he held and made a gulping sound, prompting Pope to grin in amusement while Stella rolled her eyes at John B. He was not selling this well. “Look, once we get what we need, we cut her loose, all right? Plus, we need the map.”

Yeah, okay. Stella wasn’t quite sure how much she believed that.

Kie pursed her lips, leaning forward as she stared John B dead in the eye. “Promise me nothing’s happening between you two.”

John B widened his eyes, answering breathily, “Nothing is happening, Kie.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Okay!”

Kie was still frowning, as if she was trying to get John B to get the message through her glare. “This isn’t about you. This isn’t about us. This is about her.” Stella pressed her lips together as she watched them. Kie’s beef with Sarah was so damn deep, she wondered if they would be able to do with if she wasn’t on board with Sarah helping out just this once. Personally, Stella didn’t give a shit about Sarah Cameron; she just didn’t like her out of principle for the way the end of that friendship hurt Kie. Everything else was between Kie and Sarah. “Dude, she’s gonna get inside your head. Just promise me nothing’s happening between you guys.”

John B looked at her as lightning flashed outside and thunder rolled. “I promise.”

“That was really believable,” JJ piped up.

Pope nodded. “A hundred percent believable.”

Stella lightly knocked JJ with her knee while glaring at Pope, effectively shutting both of them up. John B didn’t dignify them with a response, instead saying, “Anyways, um, I’m gonna take care of business.”

JJ shook his head, playing with the joint. “You’re gonna take care of it so well.”

Stella waved John B off dismissively. “We’ll just sit here,” she said dryly. “In the hot-ass car.”

Pope added, “While it’s lightning.”

They left the back door of the van open as John B got out, backpack on as he walked off towards the tower. The wind rustled outside, thunder rumbling every now and then to accompany the flashes of lightning that warned of a storm rolling in. “Kiara, holding onto your grudge is like drinking poison and thinking Sarah will die,” Pope said once John B was gone.

“Exactly,” JJ nodded.

Kie shot the two of them a withering stare before looking at Stella. Her twin merely shrugged. “You know I’m on your side,” Stella said. “But you can’t really tell John B what he can or can’t do.”

“I’m not trying to tell him what to do,” Kie shot back. “I’m just warning him against the kind of person I know Sarah is. She’s gonna fuck us over.”

“Look, we just—we just gotta trust that John B knows what he’s doing,” Pope tried to placate, looking between Stella and Kie. “That he’s using his head.”

Kie scoffed, not really convinced. “I know what head he’s using, and it isn’t the one on his shoulders.”

“That’s a good one,” JJ mumbled quietly where he sat.

They were quiet for a few minutes, just listening to the rumble of thunder, before conversation started up again. Pope had asked about what happened at Midsummers, and JJ launched into the story that led up to the Kooks cornering him in the men’s room while they waited for John B to return with the map.

JJ was saying, “Rafe and Kelce followed me—”

Kie cut him off. “Wait, do you guys hear that?” Her eyebrows furrowed together. “Sh.”

Stella frowned. “What?”

And then, in the distance, over the sound of the wind howling and thunder rumbling, came a girl’s voice yelling, “Please, somebody, help!”

All of their eyes widened, instantly on their feet as JJ grunted, “Oh, wait, no, I hear that.”

“Shit,” Pope cursed as they all stumbled out.

“What the fuck?” Stella muttered, gripping the skirt of her dress so it didn’t get tangled in her feet as she ran.

The voice, Stella realized, belonged to Sarah, and her heart started pounding as they ran towards the Hawk’s Nest, throat already drying in worry. The first thought in her head was that something went terribly wrong, that John B was hurt, and when they all cleared a group of trees towards the base of the Nest, Stella’s fear came true as a gasp ripped through her at the sight of John B lying on the ground, Sarah crying as she cradled his head and begged for him to wake up and open his eyes.

“Sarah! What happened?” Pope asked as they came running over, skidding to a stop, their breathing labored.

Sarah was crying, and Stella’s heart clenched at the sight of John B, unconscious, fear drenching her veins in ice as she instantly gripped Kie’s hand. “I don’t know what to do,” Sarah sobbed. “He needs help. Topper shoved him.”

Anger heated Stella’s skin, momentarily taking over the terror trembling her body as JJ demanded, “Where the hell is he?”

But Sarah just cried, “Oh, please, please, please get help. I don’t care who. Just call someone.”

Stella pushed Pope away as she panted, “Go! Call 911! Go!”

Pope took off and Kie shouted after him, “Pope, hurry!”

They all stood, breathing labored and hearts pounding, unsure of what to do as their friend lay unconscious. Worry weighed heavily on them all, to the point where Stella couldn’t even stop to question the way Sarah was holding John B to her, crying for him, kissing him and begging for him to wake up. No, nothing else mattered other than their injured friend, the tears stinging in Stella’s eyes as she prayed to anyone who was listening that he would wake up. Soon. Now. Please.

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