#in which cameron stated that he would consider coming back to the show to do more ian and mickey stuff

[fandomfix13]

Get Him Back - Rafe Cameron 18+

* HI ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE WRITTEN ANYTHING BUT IM HERE NOW

* TBH THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT SO BARE WITH ME

* This is so super long and also completely filthy at parts SO MDNI and pls read warnings

* little bit of fluff? Def some pretty smutty smut. This did not start out as smut but here we are

* WRITTEN IN Y/N’s POV, lots of dialogue

*anything in italics is your inner monologue

Word count: 4K

WARNINGS: MDNI!, mentions of cheating (not rafe), toxic ex,  oral (giving and receiving), fingering, rough-ish??, p in v sex, hair pulling, light choking??, not rated e for everyone

The rain is pouring down in sheets. Falling harder than it has in a while. My head is pounding from holding back tears, that I might as well let out. I never thought that I would be in this situation. Forced out of my boyfriend's car after a fight at nearly one in the morning, with a dead phone, left to walk home alone in the pouring rain. How cliche. Not to mention the fact that I’m just over three miles away from home. What a dick. Some “man” he is to leave me like that. For all he cares, I could be kidnapped out here. However, it's highly unlikely being that I’m wandering in one of (if not the nicest) neighborhoods in this entire state. Constantly guarded by a neighborhood watch, with gated community after gated community.

 I can see the the sharp rain plummeting down in the glow of the street lights. Unlucky for me, the wind has picked up too making this walk even more miserable. At this point, I have two options; 1. I could continue to walk home in this miserable weather OR 2. I could lose all dignity and show up to Sarah’s house after not talking to her in months. Seeing as this storm is showing absolutely no sign of stopping, its looking like the second option is better. As I turn the corner, I approach the Seabrook Gated Community. A little ways down is the fence that Sarah and I used to hop all the time when we would sneak out. That’s my in. It’s an old rusty fence that is hidden behind some overgrown hedges behind some wildly overpriced house that rarely ever has anyone living in it.         

After nearly slipping off of the slippery fence, I make my way down the street to Tanny Hill. Mentally preparing myself for the absolute humiliation that will occur if Sarah opens the front door. We had our falling out about 3 months ago and we haven't spoken since. We have tried our best to avoid each other at all costs. At least I’ve tried avoiding her, that is, until this very moment. 

As I approach the front lawn, I genuinely consider turning around and quite literally braving the storm and walking home. As it is, I’m already soaked from head to toe and probably on the verge of pneumonia. However, I shake off my thoughts and walk towards the front door. I knock three times in hope that someone will hear. I don’t ring the doorbell out of fear of waking up the entire Cameron household which is the last thing I need to do. After a few seconds, nobody answers. This house is huge maybe they are coming. I convince myself that nobody is answering the door so I turn accepting my fate and I walk away. Suddenly, I hear the front door unlock and my breath gets caught in my throat when I hear his voice. 

“Y/N? Is that you?” Fuck. Me.

“Hey Rafe.” I choke out. God I probably look insane.

“What are you doing here?” he looks at his phone “at 1:26 in the morning.”

“Um. Is Sarah home?” I spit out, trying to avoid conversation.

“She’s not…but I am.” He leans against the door frame looking me up and down in a ‘you good?’ way. “You also didn’t answer my question.” He adds.

“I uh…I didn’t know where else to go.” I say quietly. I was right. This is in fact humiliating. He just stands there and stares at me. Clearly unamused at the fact that I still haven't answered his question as to why I am standing on his front porch looking like a wet dog. I would stare too. “Are you gonna let me inside? Or are you just gonna keep staring at me in silence.” I add.

“That depends.” He says lookin back into the house then back at me. “Are you gonna tell me why you’re here? Or are you just gonna avoid the question.” Touche. We stand here in silence for a moment as he watches me get pelted in the face by the rain and I chatter my teeth. He finally pushes the door open further and gestures for me to come inside. Thank go Sarah isn’t home because I would be shitting myself out of embarrassment right now. I walk in and Rafe opens a hallway in the closet as he reaches in and grabs a towel that he throws at me. “If You get anything wet, Rose will lose her shit.” 

“How kind.” I say with strong notes of sarcasm.

“Hey I didn’t have to let you in. I could've just left you outside on your own.” he’s right.

“Well you wouldn’t be the first guy to leave me outside tonight, so I probably would’ve been fine” I blurt out without thinking. What happened to me tonight is none of his business. Plus I’m sure he will hear about it anyway. However, he did let me inside which he did not have to do, so I could at least pretend to be grateful. 

“Damn. That's rough. Sorry about that.” he almost sounded embarrassed.

“No, it's fine. Thanks for the towel.” he nods and sits down at the kitchen counter. We stand in silence for a bit as I ring my hair out into the sink. This couldn’t be more awkward. Here I am standing in my ex best friend’s house with her older brother, who was in fact my first kiss in a game of truth or dare years ago, and who happens to be the best friend of my boyfriend who just dumped me on the side of the road in the middle of the night. This is just grand. “Do you have a phone charger? My phone is completely dead.” 

“Uh yeah its upstairs. Do you wanna-” he cut himself off before speaking again. “Do you just wanna come up with me so you can change?” Right. So. Apparently this absolutely CAN  feel more awkward. Whatever. I need to charge my phone and honestly a change of clothes sounds devine. I silently follow Rafe up the stairs and into his room. “If you want you can take a shower to warm up. Your teeth haven’t stopped chattering since you got here.” he’s being frighteningly nice. 

“Um sure.” I say hesitantly as I am incredibly confused by his nice attitude. I plug in my phone and Rafe hands me one of his old t-shirts and a pair of booty shorts that were surely left here by some random girl, but honestly I don’t care. I have to get out of these clothes. “Thanks.” I say taking the clothes and entering his bathroom, closing and locking the door quickly behind me. Literally what the fuck. There is no way this is really happening. 

I take my time in the shower as I let the steaming hot water warm me up for a while. When I’m done, I put on the clothes that Rafe gave me, and open the bathroom door seeing him sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone.

“Hey Topper called you like five times when you were in the shower.” He says unfazed. My attitude shifts almost immediately. 

“You didn’t answer it did you?” I blurt out. Nice job y/n! That wasn’t suspicious at all!

“No…why would I?” he laughs clearly confused as I let out a sigh  of relief. Once again. Awkward silence. I take a seat on the edge of the bed going through my phone. “Are you gonna call him back?” he asks. Before I could answer him, his phone starts to ring. Toppers name is displayed on the screen. Rafe looks at his phone, then back to me, then back to his phone. 

“I am NOT here. Answer it. Put it on speaker.” I say frantically. Now he's intrigued.

“Hey Top!” Rafe answers. “Rafe! I fucked up man. I fucked up BAD! I’m coming over. I need a drink asap.” I am immediately shaking my head and mouthing ‘no’. “Top I can’t tonight man. My dad is on my ass and if Rose finds out I have someone over, I’m dead bro.” Is he seriously helping me right now? 

Topper scoffs on the other line. “Since when have you given a shit about what Rose thinks? I’m already on my way!” 

“Then turn around and go home man. I can’t tonight.”

“What is up with you dude? You never turn down a drink” its silent for a minute “Oh shit do you have a chick over right now?” Im disgusted at the change in tone in Top’s voice when he  brings up Rafe having a girl over.

“Yeah bro I do. And she’s alone right now in my bed so I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow.” Rafe responds, very quick to go along with Topper’s question.

“That’s my man!” Topper laughs “is she hot? She better be hot!”

Even Rafe rolls his eyes at Topper’s comment. “Yeah she’s hot. Okay gotta go man.” Rafe responds as he hangs up the phone. Is that true, does he think I’m hot? I don’t care. Do I?

I let out a huge sigh of relief that we dodged the bullet of Top showing up here. 

“So. Are you gonna tell me why I just had to lie to my best friend?”

I shift nervously. “Well technically you didn’t lie. There is a ‘chick’ here and she is sitting on your bed.” I try to make a joke avoiding this conversation at all costs. 

“Y/n.” He says, raising his eyebrows. He clearly wants an answer. 

“I broke up with Top and he didn’t take it well.” I say on an exhale. He doesn’t say anything because he’s not stupid. He has probably figured out that much already. I let out a heavy sigh. “He kicked me out of his car in the middle of the road three miles away from my house in the fucking rain because I accused him of cheating on me. He told me that I had no idea what I was talking about. He said I was crazy, and that I was making shit up. But I’m not. I know for a fact that I’m not. It’s not the first time either. He’s done it before, which I’m sure you already know since you’re his best friend and he probably tells you everything.” I make that realization as I’m rambling my story out to him. Rafe is probably well aware of Topper’s lack of loyalty. 

“I uh. I knew about it the first time.” He admits. His honestly with the situation makes me laugh a little as I roll my eyes.

“Of course you did. Being that it was with your sister. I’d be shocked if you didn’t know.” The look on Rafe’s face instantly changes. It’s almost like he’s holding something back. “Unless…Sarah wasn’t the first girl was she. There was someone else.” Tears that I have been pushing back for weeks start to well in my eyes. Not because I’m sad, but because I’m furious. Even Rafe doesn’t know what to say. Without thinking, I grab my wet clothes and my barely charged phone, and head towards his bedroom door. “I should go. Thanks for the shower and-” 

“Y/n don’t be ridiculous” he says quickly following me. “You can’t leave right now that storm is getting worse” He puts his hand on the door, shutting it. 

I turn and he is standing close enough to me to create an odd sort of tension. 

“Why don’t you get him back?” Rafe suggests as I roll my eyes.

“I don’t want to get back with him Rafe I’m so ov-” he cuts me off.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I mean get him back. As in revenge.” he says as he steps closer to me. Jesus Christ I’m an absolute idiot.

“Revenge…right.” I laugh awkwardly. He continues to inch closer, creating an even bigger amount of tension. Not that tension is an unfamiliar thing with Rafe and I. There has always been a weird tension between us. Ya know…the whole best friends brother thing. I’ve known Rafe for almost 10 years. Something about his cocky attitude has always been attractive to me. Call it toxic. I don’t care. It’s just the truth. Rafe and I are standing right infront of each other. He is towering over me as my back is still to the door. 

“You know…They say that one of the best ways to get over a guy is to get under another.” He almost whispers while moving my hair out of my face. I can’t help but blush. The thought of getting back at Topper crossed my mind the second he cheated on me. The thought of getting back at him by hooking up with his best friend? That’s even better. Rafe leans down and starts to kiss my neck. “Rafe we probably shouldn’t do this” I whisper clearly enjoying it.

“Of course we shouldn’t. But I do shit that I shouldn’t do all the time.” He stops kissing my neck to look me in the face.

“Me too” I nod letting out a breath as I crash my lips onto his. The kiss is instantly filled with an insane amount of intensity. Rafe backs me up against the wall as he deepens the kiss. He moves from my mouth to my neck, leaving hickeys all over. He is making sure that I can’t hide what we are doing. And I’m totally here for it. His hands move from my hair, to my hips, to underneath the hem of my shirt. Well. Technically his shirt. I’m braless since my bra got soaked in that rain earlier. He quickly realizes this as his hand grazes over my tits. He starts to grip them while kissing me, making me moan softly until he stops for a second. 

“As hot as you look in my shirt…it’s coming off” he nearly growls. I lift my arms as he lifts the shirt over my head and throws it across the room. I reach for his shirt to take it off. Once he takes it off his mouth is back on mine. Our foreheads are pressed together as our bare chests are rising and falling against each other. He hoists me up, grabbing my ass as I throw my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. We don’t last long against the wall before we move to the bed.

He lays me down on the edge of the bed as he hovers over me kissing me yet again. Each kiss gets more aggressive. We bite each other's lips between kisses. He moves his mouth from my lips to my neck leaving more marks. Slowly, he makes his way to my chests. The marks he makes get darker and darker. He puts his mouth over my nipple, making me moan as he slightly bites down. He quickly moves his hand up to cover my mouth.

“Shhh. Baby we gotta stay quiet.” He says as he moves from one nipple to the other. I moan into his hand as he stifles the sound that comes out. His hand moves from my mouth to my throat as he wraps his hand around it lightly. His lips meet mine again. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” holy shit. I moan into our kiss as his hand is on my throat. His hand travels down my body until its hovering over my shorts. He’s moving his hand from one thigh to the other. Barely grazing the spot where I need him the most. I breathe into our kiss as his hand stops at the waistband of my shorts. He’s such a fucking tease. He hovers his hand there for a minute sensing that I want more. 

“Oh my God Rafe” I moan out of anticipation.

“You want more baby?” he smirks against my lips.

“You know I do” Smartass.

“Say less” he moves from his position above me, to kneeling on the floor at the edge of the bed. He hooks his fingers around the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down, revealing my bare pussy. He pulls me closer to the edge of the bed and spreads my legs in one swift motion, causing my breath to hitch. He leans down and attaches his mouth to my clit. This of course causes another accidental moan to slip from my mouth. I immediately throw my own hands over my mouth to quiet the noise. His tongue is swirling circles over my clit as he inserts two fingers without warning. As hard as I am trying to stifle my sounds, nothing could stop the groan that I let out at this moment. He moves his fingers at a faster pace that matches what his tongue is doing. 

“Holy Shit Rafe.” I whine.

“You like that?” he smirks up at me. I nod and roll my eyes to the back of my head before shutting them tightly. But suddenly Rafe stops. “Open your eyes y/n. I want you to look at me when you cum. I want you to see who is making you feel this good.” I do as he says and open my eyes as I prop myself up on my elbows to get a better view. “Atta girl” He smirks before burying his face into me yet again. He adds a third finger as I throw my head back while remaining eye contact. He curls his fingers as he eats me out and I want to scream at the pressure building up inside of me. I reach forward and tangle my fingers through his hair as he grins up towards me. 

“Rafe! Oh my God” I let out a string of other soft noises and words.

“Go ahead baby. Cum for me,” I look Rafe in the eyes as I jerk my hips and arch my back, completely unraveling in front of him. As he removes his fingers from inside of me, he brings them up to my mouth. “I want you to see how good you taste.” he says as I take his fingers into my mouth until they are clean. He removes his fingers from my mouth and laces his hands through my hair as he devours me with a kiss. 

“That was incredible.” I breathe heavily.

“Oh we aren’t done yet princess.” the sound of him calling me princess was enough to nearly send me over the edge again. 

“I’d hope not” I tangle my tongue with his as he deepens the kiss by pulling my hair back. I reach for his pants and I undo his belt. 

“Eager are we?” he scoffs, pulling away for a moment. He removes his belt and  his pants. Leaving his boxers for me to remove. I gesture for him to sit on the edge of the bed where I just was. When he sits, I climb onto his lap, straddling him over his boxers. I can tease too. I lean in kissing him as I slowly start to rock back and forth on his lap. I can feel him getting harder by the second. To be honest this is doing just as much for me as it is for him. I start to kiss his neck, leaving marks similar to the ones he left on me. I start to rock faster back and forth until he is letting out moans the way I was. I cover his mouth.

“I thought we had to stay quiet.” I give him a sly smile before kneeling on the floor and removing his boxers. I come face to face with his cock as I run my tongue up the side, looking up at him while I do it. I move my tongue to the other side slowly, taking my sweet time. 

“Fuck y/n” Rafe groans as he places his hand in my hair. 

I wrap my mouth around the head of his cock and start to suck slowly, using my hands to work the rest that I can’t fit in my mouth. I bob my head up and down while I look up at him, my eyes are starting to water. He grabs my head and slightly pushes me down further, and I can feel his tip hit my throat. When it does Rafe lets out a deep moan with a mumbled string of “oh fucks”. After a few minutes, I can sense that he is going to cum. I don’t bother asking where he wants to finish before he finishes in my mouth. I swallow and look up at him with a smile.

“Holy shit. You really know what you’re doing.” He lets out a heavy content sigh. “We still aren't done yet. I need to be inside you.” He says laying me back down on the bed. I still cannot believe that this is happening. 

Rafe wastes no time climbing on top of me leaving sloppy kisses up my chest and meeting my mouth with his. “You sure about this?” He looks down at me.

“Never been more sure about anything.” I nod. 

“Good” He says as he grabs a condom from his nightstand and puts it on. Seconds later, he is lining himself up at my entrance. His tongue plunges into my mouth as he enters inside of me. His cock stretched my pussy perfectly. He moves with smooth motions leaving us both moaning into each other's mouths as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He brings his hand to my throat once again,barely applying pressure, making me let out a moan that was too loud to be stifled. He doesn’t seem to care. 

“You like when my hands are around your neck?” He whispers in my ear.

“Yes! Oh my god yes” I am starting to get louder. He moves his hand from my throat to my mouth to keep me quiet again. I moan into his hand as his thrusts hit the perfect spot inside of me. He can tell that he has hit the spot when my hips start to buck in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. I am almost screaming into his hand. As he leans down to kiss me again. 

“You gonna cum with me?” he asks, pressing his forehead against mine. I nod unable to speak, to stop myself from screaming. “Words y/n. Use your words” 

“Fuck yes. I’m gonna cum!” I whine out. He thrusts in and out a few more times, hitting the spot perfectly making me squirm underneath him. With one final thrust, I arch my back as I scratch my nails down his, definitely leaving scratch marks. We cum simultaneously as we let out deep and hungry moans into each other's mouths. He just gave me the best orgasm I have ever had. He pulled out and laid next to me.

“Holy shit. I’ve waited so long to do that.” he says looking at me out of breath.

“Me too. I always had a crush on you ya know.” I say looking at him equally as out of breath.

“Yeah I know.” He smiles and lets out a soft chuckle.

“Took you long enough to do something about it.” I laugh back.

“Thank God I did. And I plan on doing it again. Just so you know.” I winked at me 

“I’d hope so.” I smile, laying there next to him. He was right. That was the best way to get over someone. 

** hi! I really hope you liked this. If you did and want to see more let me know what you want to see! I had fun writing this and in my many many years of writing fanfics this is somehow my first time writing smut so I hope it was okay lol ❤️

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #obx fanfic #rafe cameron #rafe obx #obx fanfiction #outerbanks rafe #drew starkey #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x female!mc #obx smut

[ilovescaredysquirrel2]

The problem with Disney right now...

I know I usually state my opinion on movies I see recently and give reviews but sometimes I give my opinion on movies that are going to come out soon. So, I heard about the unnecessary sequels for Moana and Inside Out, which are great movies but they don't need sequels. In all honesty, after seeing what they did with Wish, I think Disney should take a break on making animated movies for a while! Not forever, just for a short time.

Okay, so I think we all can tell that they used A.I on Wish. It's not the animation and stuff, it's just the story! I even think the songs were written by real people, it's purely the story that feels A.I generated. Watch them use A.I on Moana 2, Inside Out 2, and Frozen 3... oh gosh that would break my heart to se them ruin the sequels with A.I. I don't consider myself a Disney fan, in fact, even as a kid I wasn't a Disney-movie kid, but I did have a Frozen phase back in the day. Every kid had a Frozen phase. Inside Out is okay but it was kind of emotional, but the first Moana was really good. The thing is, Frozen is based off the Snow Queen while Moana and Inside Out aren't based off any fairytales and are Disney's own original ideas for once. Plus, I think they're only making these sequels because their original ideas like StrangeWorld and Wish are failing so they're proffiting off live action remakes and making sequels of already existing characters because they're desperate. They're just so greedy and can't stand to see the competitors, who are smaller animation companies, beat them!

I'm mostly boycotting Disney (and have been ever since I saw Zootopia) but I'll watch Disney movies pirated on free websites like Actvid and Moviesjoy. The only thing I like from 2024 Disney is Kiff! LITERALLY KIFF! KIFF! Of all things, I never thought KIFF would be the only thing that's stopping me from abandoning Disney all together. I don't use Disney plus but the website I watch Kiff on doesn't have the recent episodes and I refuse to get Disney plus. Disney should focus on stuff like Kiff and Phineas & Ferb anyway. The only good show they got on Disney channel now is Bluey and Bluey is NOT EVEN DISNEY! Bluey is an Australian show and should be seen as that, instead of having the greediest corporation in the world act like they own an Aussie show that they didn't have anything to do with. Bluey should be on PBS kids or something, not greedy Disney! Who agrees? I'm American, but If I was in Australia I'd be so mad at Disney. Disney literally censored episodes, removed episodes, and stopped the writers from throwing in a Bible reference... when they weren't even making the show! If I was in charge, Disney Channel/Disney Junior would have shows like Jungle Junction, Phineas & Ferb, Bear in the Big Blue House, Good Luck Charlie, Suite life of Zack & Cody on Deck,... ect. Basically I'd bring back everything except JESSIE because it was racist (R.I.P to Cameron Boyce tho, he wasn't a bad guy he was just on a bad show).

Anyway, Disney is on my last nerve rn, and if it wasn't for Kiff I'd hate it all together. I still do hate Disney but the only thing that keeps me from wanting it to go away is Kiff. If you haven't heard of Kiff, it's a recent show by Disney, about an orange squirrel who's really energetic (and no, she's NOTHING like Scaredy Squirrel). As far as movies go, I know for sure that I will never see another Disney movie in theaters and I encourage you too, as well. They'll end up on Actvid or Moviesjoy before they even end up on Disney plus anyway, because Disey is popular and people care enough to record it off some hidden camera in theaters. I'm not saying you have to follow in my footsteps and boycott Disney, I'm just telling you on how I do it. Like, the day they come out in theaters is the same day they end up on free websites. Plus, you don't have to waste your money if the movie is going to be bad, like how Wish ended up being bad.

So yeah, please share your thoughts! If you're a Disney fan, I'm sorry. You have to know that they've been really shady recently (they always have been shady but particularly now).

#my thoughts #my thoughts on disney #disney hater #kiff #kiff chatterley #kiff is the only good thing from Disney rn

[jeanmoreaux]

i just watched the shameless season final and it left me super emotional! carl’s outburst of self-doubt? heartbreaking. debbie prioritizing carl’s needs? heartbreaking. ian and fiona’s goodbye scene, with ian providing emotional support and reassurance? heartbreaking. fiona’s quiet departure to somewhere closer to the equator? heartbreaking.

#ahhh i am such a mess after watching this adjhjakshkjasd #i have no idea how i’ll get through my week now #sunday’s episode was always a treat for my stressed heart #i’m devastated right now #and this episode’s prison scene made me realize how much i missed ian #i was repeatedly annoyed by him throughout the seasons but he grew on me #i was always really invested in his storylines up until the mess that was gay jesus #but his goodbye with fiona was like a reminder how amazing his character really is #and since cameron was saying in one of his interviews that he thinks ian's storyline for season 10 is really good again #i have hope that we'll get to see this side of ian more in the future #so yeah i am more than happy he'll be back #but man am i going to miss seeing emmy's gorgeous face #still sad she left the show :(( #as much as fiona annoyed me she was always a fav #even at her lowest #sooo now that we will have to wait months for new episodes what am i going to do with my life??? #probably read more books lmao #((also i just read an interview from back in january by the chicago tribune or smth #in which cameron stated that he would consider coming back to the show to do more ian and mickey stuff #but after his return to the show for season10 was announces he clearly said that he'd love to have ian not being in a relationship for once #so now i am confused??? bc why say such things one minute and then say something completely different the next??? #is it bc noel fisher probably won't return and they have to write out mickey again??? #idk i am confused)) #((i am also confused by emmy's interview that discuss her exit from the show... why am i even reading stuff like that... #noel's interview about the show are always so confusing too!! #what's up with literally everything askjhladlkja))

[hartigays]

Rafebarry Prompt for you! So what about some of Barry’s pals being over at the trailer and they’re all just like “Damn Bro” at seeing Rafe (who’s just living his best chaotic life, being Barry’s housewife/partner in crime) and Barry’s just all smug about it like “Yeah. I’m hittin’ that. Be jealous.”

tw: mature themes (drug use, sexual implications) and some homophobic language (just a comment from some loser tho)

rafe’s bike tears through swampy grass and dirt with a vengeance as he pulls into barry’s front yard, leaving tire marks in his wake.

when he pulls off his helmet, the first thing he sees are people spilling in and out of the trailer. people rafe doesn’t recognize - some of them attractive, even.

which is… infuriating, to put it lightly.

barry clearly hadn’t felt the need to keep rafe in the loop, inviting him over without informing him that half of the cut would be in attendance as well.

like, seriously, what the fuck? rafe had thought - well. he’d intended to come here to pick up some blow, and maybe, possibly, perhaps let barry have his way with him while he’s at it.

barry can’t have his way with him if half the population of north carolina is stacked up inside the trailer. and that’s just. frustrating.

rafe kind of wants to drive his bike straight through the trailer, mowing some partygoers down and end this whole shebang right here and now. but, as barry has made explicitly clear time and time again, rafe is Not Allowed to harm and/or kill people on his property.

it’s sometimes irritating, this whole thing they’ve started. this casual fling that’s maybe not-so-casual anymore considering rafe agreed to be exclusive with barry not even two days ago.

there are just. so many rules, like no maiming, or killing, or… actually, that’s about it. but that’s two rules too many. rafe doesn’t like rules, or being told what he can or can’t do.

barry is just lucky rafe likes him. kind of. sort of. somewhat.

otherwise, barry would be drifting along the bottom of the ocean somewhere, flesh being nibbled away at by fish and sharks and the like.

rafe flings his helmet towards his bike, not bothering to see if it landed anywhere convenient, before storming across the yard and shoving himself through a cluster of people to get inside the trailer.

barry is sitting on the couch, all sorts of people surrounding him, looking like he’s already fucked up beyond belief.

which is also annoying, because he was supposed to get fucked up beyond belief with rafe, then mandhandle rafe into bed to have his wicked way with him. like always.

“ayy, country club!” barry practically shouts over the noice, his accent even thicker and more drawn out than usual. “you made it!”

“yeah, barry, i made it,” rafe snaps, then sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

look, he’s not against parties or anything. actually, he’s quite in favor of them. he just… did not plan for his day to go like this.

rafe wanted barry’s full attention, which is now virtually impossible given the amount of bodies that are currently filling the room.

barry just looks at rafe with glazed eyes, leaning back casually against the couch cushions. “aw, don’t you go pouting on me ‘n shit, rafe cameron. ain’t you always down for a party or some shit like that?”

“a little heads up would’ve been nice,” rafe tells him, his temper rearing it’s ugly head again and bleeding into his voice. “look, can i just get my shit so i can get out of here?”

rafe moves around the coffee table, elbowing a few drunk idiots out of his way as he does. barry eyes him as he comes closer, before suddenly swinging one arm out and wrapping it around rafe’s waist. he ropes rafe in close enough that rafe stumbles a bit over barry’s feet, sprawling right into his lap.

“see, ain’t that more like it, country club?” barry purrs, his lips pressed against rafe’s ear.

rafe feels a shiver rocket down his spine, but also a flare of anxiety.

barry is certainly fucked up beyond comprehension, and they haven’t exactly talked about making their relationship public. rafe has no idea if this is something barry will regret in the morning and end up cutting rafe off.

but to be fair, if barry did wake up and decide to tell rafe to fuck off, rafe would probably just kill him. he might just kill him anyway, just because he feels like it.

and since barry’s inevitable death is hurtling towards them at breakneck speed, rafe might as well enjoy barry’s final moments while he can.

so he lets barry kiss him, full on the mouth, on display for the hundred or so other people milling about the room.

rafe, regrettably, makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat when he feels barry’s tongue dip into his mouth, sweeping across his own.

regrettably, because some fucking weird ass next to barry leans in close to watch. rafe can see the movement out of the corner of his eye.

but barry isn’t deterred. he might be a little encouraged, even, because he deepens the kiss even more, pressing in so close that rafe feels like they could crawl inside of each other and form one cohesive nightmare of a person.

“ain’t peg you for a fag, barry,” the guy comments, his words slurring. he burps after he speaks, and barry detaches his lips from rafe to look over at the source of the noise.

“the fuck you just say to me?” barry snaps, digging his fingers into rafe’s hips to keep him in place when rafe moves to get up, ready to just slit this guy’s throat and be done with it. “ain’t you in my damn house, fuckass? who the fuck you think you’re talkin’ to?”

“hey, man, didn’t mean no offense,” the guy says, raising his hands in mock surrender before burping again. “jus’ askin’.”

“getcho’ dumbass out my house, bro,” barry tells him, removing one hand from rafe’s hips for only a moment, just to shove the guy out of his seat.

the still nameless man just shrugs, gulping down the remnants of his beer before getting up and disappearing into the crowd.

“i think you guys are cute,” a girl giggles from where she’s seated, across from the couch rafe and barry are currently planted on.

barry looks up at rafe, and it’s almost fond and god, that’s disgusting. rafe wants to soak himself in it, let it marinate until it’s deeply ingrained in every fiber of his being.

“sho’ are,” barry agrees with her, still looking up at rafe. he’s got one hand beneath rafe’s shirt now, nails raking over his back.

rafe shudders, wishing he could dissolve every person in this room right this very moment so he can curl up inside barry and make a home there.

“gotta say, ‘m a little jealous, man,” some other guy pipes up from barry’s other side.

rafe looks over at him, one brow arched, finding the guy staring right back as he hits some sort of pipe.

probably filled with meth, based on the state of the guy’s teeth.

classy.

“guess you just gon’ have to be jealous, then,” barry tosses back, not bothering to spare the guy a glance before returning his mouth to rafe’s.

the party comes and goes, faster than rafe anticipated, but that maybe can be attributed to the fact that barry keeps rafe glued to him at all times, practically devouring him every chance he can get, and showing him off to every person who happens to look their way.

rafe will admit, it’s a little satisfying, knowing how proud barry is to have staked his claim. he’s surprised that he’s so okay with barry being so possessive of him, too.

rafe cameron normally does not like the idea of being owned by anyone or anything. at least, he hadn’t up until now.

at this point, he’s pretty sure he’d let barry put a dog collar on him that reads property of barry the coke dealer, without complaint.

now, lounging in barry’s bed, sweat-soaked and panting, rafe sparks a blunt. he takes a long hit and passes it to barry.

“you did this on purpose,” rafe says, knowingly.

barry just grins up at the ceiling like a shark, shrugging as he hits the blunt.

“you’re pretty, rafe cameron. and you’re mine,” barry tells him, passing the weed back. “what’s it hurt to show off a little? you ain’t die or nothing.”

“never said it was a bad thing,” rafe snorts. “just maybe give me a little warning next time you plan to parade me around as your trophy wife.”

“like you ain’t get off on all them people talking ‘bout how jealous they are that i get to have you.”

barry has a point, rafe will admit. not out loud, mind you, but still. in the quiet of his mind, where no one else can hear, he agrees with barry wholeheartedly.

“can you blame them? i mean, look at me,” rafe says with a snooty little sniff, running a hand along his jaw. “you landed yourself a masterpiece. people are gonna notice.”

“you so damn full of yourself, country club,” barry snorts. “imma have to knock that ego down a peg. i been too nice to you.”

“says the guy whose ego grew ten times larger just by being a show-off about his boyfriend.”

barry rolls over onto his side, watching rafe hit the blunt with heavily-lidded eyes. “boyfriend, huh? ain’t we a bit old for that?”

“you literally called me your boyfriend like, fifty times today. do not even- ”

barry shuts him up mid-sentence by taking the blunt from rafe’s hand and putting it out on the ashtray next to the bed, tangling his fingers in rafe’s hair, and pulling him in for a kiss that’s all tongues and teeth.

rafe wanted to finish his sentence, had planned on finishing it, but barry doesn’t give him the chance. not with the way he’s kissing him right now.

within a matter of moments, rafe forgets what he was planning to say in the first place. but whatever, he’s fucking tired, barry feels good and smells good and tastes good. so what if he’s a trophy wife, so what if he may or may not get off on people being jealous that barry gets to date him. to own him.

it’s all arbitrary.

instead of figuring out what he was going to say, rafe breaks away from barry’s lips, fastening his mouth to barry’s neck and biting down.

his teeth sink in deep, and he hopes with everything he has left in him that it leaves a scar.

#rafebarry #outer banks #hope u enjoy! #my fics #ask #goodnightandbillyrobicheaux

[marvelatthetwilight]

Good to be home.

A/N: Just a quick one while I sort out some follow up pieces.

You had missed your brother immensely in the 5 years since you had been home. You were 7 when your mom left, and your dad moved you both back to La Push hoping that being back at the reservation would help you both, growing up as part of a community. Your dad gradually grew distant, starting to drink more and more. Sometimes he could be gone for days at a time, leaving the two of you to fend for yourselves. You relied on each other for everything. It was a shock when, at 13, your dad decided you should go back to Tacoma and stay with your grandparents, claiming that he couldn’t care for two teenagers, and that your brother was “easier” to deal with.

And so, the two of you were separated. Partners in crime, peas in a pod, best friends, ripped apart.

When your grandparents passed away, you finally had the money and the means to move back to La Push, reuniting you and your brother Paul once again.

~~~

“Y/N Lahote as I live and breathe!” Jared Cameron came bounding over to your car as you pulled up to the address Paul sent you.

“Paul has NOT stopped talking about you coming home, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so excited” Jared smiled as he opened up the passenger door and helped you with your bags.

“Jared, you look so grown up! You used to be so weedy! What happened?” You stared incredulously at him, he had grown at least a foot since you last saw him, had filled out and become muscular, nothing like the Jared you were expecting to see.

“Ha! If you think that’s something, just wait until you see your brother.”

You followed him into the house which you understood to be Emily and Sam’s. They had offered to let you stay with them whilst Paul was still finishing his house he was building for himself and Rachel.

As you entered the kitchen you were greeted with a hug from Emily, you recognised her from the photos Paul had sent you over the years. Emily was closely followed by Kim, and then Rachel, who you had spoken to on the phone almost everyday since you had planned to return home.

“Y/N! We are all SO excited to see you! Paul and I have so many plans for us!” Rachel jumped with joy, excited to spend time with her new “sister”.

“So where is my brother? I was expecting him outside waiting considering the amount he has been bothering me with questions about my arrival this week” Rachel looks over at Emily before saying; “he’s out doing some errands with Embry and Sam, they will be back soon, let’s get you settled!”

They gesture for Jared to help with your bags, and he picks them up with ease before leading the way to the guest room.

“This is going to be so hard keeping everything from Y/N if she is staying here, it’s going to be right under her nose. The boys aren’t subtle at all.” Emily whispers to Rachel.

“I know but that’s why we are in charge of keeping her busy! At least until Paul’s house is ready, then it’ll be easier.” Rachel replies as she starts walking towards the guest room, not realising that you had hung back to ask Emily a question away from Jared, unintentionally hearing their conversation.

~~~

An hour later you are in the kitchen at Emily’s dining table, bonding with the girls over your love of cooking, discussing your favourite bands. But you couldn’t stop thinking about what you had overheard. What were they keeping from you?

At that moment, Paul appeared at the door, an enormous smile on his face.

“Y/N!!!!!!!” He ran towards you, lifting you from your seat, into a bear hug. Oh how you had missed his hugs. Although you don’t remember them being this warm.

“I can’t even begin to explain how excited I am that you’re here, I have so many plans, we can go to the beach, go for a hike, I can show you the house, you can choose how to decorate your room..”

“Maybe give Y/N a chance to process what you’re saying before you keep going there Paul. I’m Sam, it’s so good to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you” Sam holds out his hand for you to shake, you choosing to ignore that and pulling him in for a hug instead. Woah, it’s not just Paul who feels like he’s burning up. They’re like heaters.

“Obviously I have to hug the man who’s helped my brother out so much. Thank you for everything you’ve done.” Sam smiles at this, before turning his attention to Emily, pulling her in for a hug and peppering her face with kisses.

“...thanks for running off Paul, Sam can you please explain to this idiot that just because he’s one of the fastest wolves in the pack doesn’t mean he needs to run at full speed all the time?!...oh...erm...” everyone’s heads turn to face the two new people who have appeared at the door, seemingly unaware of your presence until it was too late.

Paul’s face turns red with anger, you recognise this quickly from the stories he had told you over the years. Rachel is quickly to his side, arms around his waist, forcing his eyes to her own, speaking to him softly and calming him down.

You look again to the two men still standing in the doorway.

“Erm...hi. I’m Quil, and this idiot is Embry. Sorry, we forgot you were coming today Y/N, please ignore Embry, we have a running joke with Emily calling us all wolves because we act like a pack and we eat her out of house and home”. He laughs unnaturally at this, glancing at the others who join in, catching on that this should be funny.

You smile tightly at him, something is definitely up here. Then you turn your attention to the guy you now know to be Embry. You vaguely remember Embry and Quil from school, friends of Jacob Black’s, you were in the same year but not friends, but you don’t remember him looking like this. Why are all of Paul’s friends so muscly and tall? You definitely didn’t remember Embry being this handsome, he definitely would have stood out more. It’s like Sam has a type for his friends, another thing to add to your list of suspicions, as well as this bizarre reference to wolves. What is going on?

You realise that Embry is staring at you, his eyes are unfocused and he looks like he has completely zoned out. You cough slightly, drawing him out of his trance, attention back to you. His eyes are soft and warm, his face breaks out into a huge smile as he reaches out his hand.

“Hi, it’s so good to see you again Y/N, we’ve heard so much about your time away, erm, I’m Embry.”

You take his hand in yours, he’s so warm, why are they all so warm?

“I remember you Embry. You, Jake and Quil were like the three musketeers, always together!”

Embry smiles at the fact you remember him, and nods his head at your statement.

“We still are, don’t know what I would do without them!”

A growl sounds out from across the room, a quick cough coming from Sam stops the growl suddenly. You turn to see Paul, still with Rachel wrapped around his waist trying to calm him, shooting daggers at Embry.

“Oh this is great! I am SO looking forward to you getting out of this one Embry!” Jared laughs and claps Embry on the back.

“Paul, Embry, outside now” Sam states sternly, the two men quickly following him out of the house. You follow them with your eyes until they disappear into the tree line.

Everyone looks awkwardly at each other, before Emily suggests you help her with dinner. You agree, nodding, hoping that someone at some point will explain to you what the hell is going on.

~~~

The guys finally return an hour later, both Paul and Embry smiling as they playfully push each other walking back towards the house.

“Paul’s let him off far too lightly. I wanted Embry to at least come back with some bites...” Jared stops as Kim nudges him in the ribs.

“Can we speak to you outside Y/N?” Paul says, giving you a look and motioning outside.

You follow him out, and they both walk a bit away from the house towards the open space behind them.

~~~

You now find yourself standing next to Embry, a giant grey wolf standing in front of you.

Apparently, they really are all wolves, and you vaguely remember stories like this when you lived in La Push when you were younger. You just assumed they were nonsense, just silly stories to keep people in line with the threat of wolves and cold ones.

But they were all true. So this is what everyone was keeping from you? But, if they were going to tell you anyway, why was this all a big secret?

You turn to Embry, to see him watching your face carefully. His cheeks flush when he realises he has been staring again.

“So, this is why everyone has been acting strange around me all day?” Paul’s wolf nods and Embry speaks up.

“Yes. We weren’t allowed to say anything about it, so it had to be a secret. But...something changed that means we can now tell you.” He looks embarrassed again, and Paul huffs like he is unhappy about what has been said.

Embry flashes him a look, and Paul stalks away back to the tree line he emerged from minutes earlier.

“Can we sit? I feel like we should be sitting for this.”

You nod, still suspicious and then you both make your way to a small bench close to the house.

“So...one of the perks, I suppose, of our wolves is that we imprint. Erm...and imprinting is basically our way of finding our soul mate. It’s like a pull, we don’t want to be away from them but ultimately, we just want them to be happy. ...It’s not always romantic soul mates, it can just be a friendship...whatever the imprint wants from us basically” he shuffles in his seat, glancing at the floor, scuffing his foot in the dirt.

“Ok...so that’s what Paul and Rachel are, imprints, that’s why she was able to calm him?”

Embry nods.

“And Jared and Kim, Sam and Emily? They’re imprints too?”

Embry nods again.

“So...why are you telling me this? What has changed for me to now know your secret?”

Embry’s face flushes at this question. He was hoping you would have caught on and he wouldn’t need to actually tell you.

“Y/N...” Embry looks up, looking deeply into your eyes, willing you to understand.

“Oh...” you whispered, he was saying that you were his imprint. You thought about this carefully. Embry. “You’re saying that I’m your imprint?”

Embry nods a final time. Hesitant about your reaction.

“But we can be whatever you want us to be, it doesn’t need to be anything else.” He looks away again, hoping that you want what he wants, but not wanting to push you into something you aren’t comfortable with.

You can admit to yourself that you do feel a pull towards him, more than just a friendship you think.

“Erm...maybe we take it slow? But, I think...I want...”

You look up at him, his eyes full of love and something clicks inside you. You lean forward, closing the space between you. He looks shocked but he closes the space again until your lips are inches apart. He waits for you to take the final move.

Your lips touch briefly, and your body tingles at the touch, a shiver running through you as you move apart and the contact is lost. Wow.

“I definitely want to be more than friends Embry.” You whisper to him, leaning your forehead against his, your lips still close.

“I am going to make you the happiest girl in the entire world Y/N Lahote.” You smile and kiss him again.

I could get used to this, you thought.

It’s so good to be home.

A/N: so this wasn’t as short as I thought haha. Got caught up!

Taglist:

@volturidoll13 @clearwater-hoe @like-rain-or-confetti @teampaul @fatiguing-thoughts @wallwriterstuff

#embry call x reader #embry call imagine #embry call #paul lahote #jared cameron #paul lahote x reader #twilight #twilight imagines #twilight x reader #Paul Lahote x sister

[maddiwrites]

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter 22)

Pairing: JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: Happy Sunday (: Only two more chapters left and I’m sad about it.

Word Count: 6.8k

Chapter 21 Masterlist

My friends drag each other to Heyward's shed where he stores all his useless junk he'll probably never touch again. I always said Pope's dad was a borderline hoarder. But the clutter does nothing to distract me from what's happening to my brother.

I pace back and forth with my hands interlocked on the top of my head. As I move back and forth, my friends keep their eyes trained on me as if I might sprint back to the airstrip.

No one says anything. The four of us are try to defuse the ticking time bomb thats about to blow in all of our heads without actually losing our minds.

I freeze when I hear the familiar hum of a plane fly overhead. I feel my throat tighten and my face heat with frustration. And just like that, Ward Cameron wins again.

"There goes the gold," Pope says and throws his hat across the room.

"Shit!" JJ kicks the closest thing to him which happens to be a three legged wooden table.

"Fuck!" Pope picks up a metal trash bin and throws it across the room, just like his hat.

"Pope!" Kie yells.

"God damn it!" He continues to throw anything he can find. His bomb exploded and he's destroying anything in his path. "Shit! Fuck!" He finds a wooden baseball bat in the heap of the clutter and hits whatever he can find. Glass tables, wooden chairs, more trash bins. I'm almost mesmerized by his movements because I have never seen this side of Pope before. "Shit! Damn it!"

"Pope!" Kie's trying to clam him down while JJ and I just watch with open mouths and raised brows. However, Pope just ignores her and continues to yell and break shit. "Pope!" I can imagine the release Pope must be feeling from this. All my life, I've never seen him act like this. He's usually so composed, always the one to keep us from doing shit like this. I don't know how to react now that roles are reversed. "Pope!"

Pope eventually falls with exhaustion against the arm of a musty green couch and pants to catch his breath.

"Yeah, dude," JJ says slowly. He puts his hand on Pope's shoulder and squeezes. "I was wondering when this was gonna happen. Here you go, chief." JJ holds out his dab pen for Pope to take. Pope looks at it and for the first time, he actually considers it. "A little weed never hurt no one."

"JJ," Kie says, disapproving.

"Relax, Kie."

"You know he doesn't smoke."

Pope ignores both of them and takes the pen from JJ and inhales a large hit. As if this kid couldn't shock me more today.

"Well, maybe not until today."

"Pope."

"Yeah, what is that gonna help?" Pope says. "I lost my scholarship. Walked out in the middle of the interview. Every -" Pope inhales sharply and shakes his head. "It's gone. It's not gonna happen."

"You did that for us?" Kie asks.

"No, not for us. For nothing."

I never thought of silence as being physically heavy, but right now, I feel like I'm being weighed down by a thick fog that I can't swim out of. Pope's right. Despite everything we did right this summer to get something we all deserve, we ended up with nothing except for more problems.

"I'm here for you, Pope," JJ says. "Welcome to my world, okay?"

Kie looks at me for some kind of assistance, but I have nothing to offer. She sighs and looks back at the boys. "JJ -"

"What, Kie? He's right. It doesn't matter anymore."

"You don't have to do that," Kie tells Pope and motions to the weed.

"What do you care?" Pope snaps.

Before this can get any worse, I turn at the sound of footsteps approaching us. My jaw physically hits the ground, at least that's what it feels like, when I see John B.

His eyes are facing forward and his clothes are covered in blood. He looks like he's in some kind of state of shock and I am terrified to find out why.

But my sisterly instincts kick in first. I'm running to him before the others even see him and my hands are pulling his shirt up to make sure the blood isn't his. John B reacts as if I'm not even there and stares ahead.

"John B what happened?" My voice shakes as my eyes scan his body. There's not a even a scratch on him, but I almost wish there was. Because this means the blood belongs to someone else, and I don't want to think that my brother is the reason for it.

"Dude! Dude, you good?" JJ runs up behind me and looks over John B's body with big eyes.

"Oh, my God! John B!"

"Is this yours?"

"Whose blood is that?"

I cup John B's face in my hands and make him look at me. When his eyes finally find mine, I ask, "What happened?"

Before he can answer, cop cars with their sirens on pass us on the road behind us. John B grabs me by the arm and shoves us all back into the shed and we duck behind a wooden slack.

"Shit," Pope curses as his chest moves up and down heavily.

When the coast is clear, John B tells us what happened. Sheriff Peterkin showed up. At first Ward thought she was going to arrest John B for breaking into the airstrip and almost causing a catastrophic accident, but she was there to arrest Ward. Of course Ward wasn't going to go down without a fight and before Peterkin could react, she was shot in the chest. By none other than Rafe Cameron.

"Rafe shot Sheriff Peterkin?" I ask in disbelief.

I always thought Rafe was a lot of things, but I never had cop killer written down on my list. However, I do know that Rafe is the kind of kid who would do absolutely anything to impress his dad. He's been fighting for his attention since he was a tween. Maybe in his own sick way, he thought killing Peterkin was saving his dad.

John B nods. He tells us Peterkin told him to run. And as much as he didn't want to, he was better off with us than dead. Sarah even told him to go as she protected him with her own body while he ran away. Rafe tried to shoot him too but couldn't get his aim down as he sprinted through the woods to get to us.

"What?" I feel my blood turn ice cold when I think about Rafe trying to kill my brother. The one family member I have left. "Why would Rafe want to kill you too?"

John B shrugs. "Because I saw the whole thing."

"So did his sister," I say. "Do you think Sarah is okay?"

"Rafe wouldn't hurt her."

I scoff. "Yeah right."

Now I know that Rafe is pretty much capable of anything worthy to an eternity in hell.  I don't think anyone is safe in his company. Not even Sarah. Maybe Ward.

"Kie, can you give me a ride somewhere?" John B asks.

We sneak through the back roads to get to Kie's house. When we get in her car, John B directs her to the police station. By the time we get there, the sun is completely set, blanketing the town in an eery indigo color.

Everything seems so silent to me now. The hum of Kie's radio, the shuffling of leaves brushing against each other, the bickering between my friends and brother. There's a ringing in my ear that won't go away until my hands are wrapped around Rafe's neck.

I feel like my brain as been replaced by a dark cloud. No ideas, no thoughts, no plans can make me feel any better or lighter. It's like an invisible hand has reached down my throat and twisted my heart right out of my chest.

Peterkin was the one and only person that actually helped John B and I. She kept DCS off our backs for as long as she could, she never rubbed it mine or John B's face that the whole island thought we were delusional when we said our dad was coming back, and she was even going to arrest Ward Cameron for my father's murder.

She didn't deserve to die. Although I wasn't the one who pulled the trigger, I can't help but think that her death is somehow my fault. It was my family she was protecting. She was doing her job, but she could have easily written my dad's death off as an accident like every other cop on this island.

"John B, what are we doing at the police station?" JJ asks when Kie parks the car right outside of the front entrance.

"Somebody's gotta tell them what happened." John B's voice is filled with sadness and guilt. I wish I could pull all this weight off his shoulders and add it to mine. He use to be so optimistic - always the one to cheer me up. Now that it's the other way around, I'm dumbfounded on what to do.

Pope takes another hit of JJ's juul and ends up coughing most of the hit up.

"Oh," JJ says from his seat behind Pope and pats his shoulder twice. "Easy there, chief. Damn."

I ignore the fact that Pope sounds like he's hacking up a lung and turn to look at my brother.

"Are you sure?" I ask him.

"All right. I'm just gonna be real with you right now," JJ says to my brother. "You might end up in the lion's den, but you don't go there on purpose. It's fundamental. Just like my old man always told me, you should never ever trust cops, no matter what the circumstance is."

I scoff at the idea of taking advice from JJ's dad.

"Your old man's an abusive liar," Kie says, looking through the rearview mirror with a scowl on her face.

"I agree with JJ," Pope says. "Fuck the police."

Kie turns to look at him. "You going dark side now?"

"When's the last time the police helped us?" Pope says.

"Peterkin looked out for me, all right?" John B says loud enough to grab everyone's attention. "Tried to, at least." He looks at me. "They need to know."

John B steps out of the car with his head hanging low on his shoulders. I bite down on my bottom lip, contemplating what our next move should be. All I know is that I can't let him do this by himself.

"Wait, John B!" I jump out of the car and follow him to the front door. "You're not going to do this alone."

I wait for John B to argue with me but he doesn't. Instead, he nods his head and leads me into the police station, a place I've been in a couple times by force. Never by choice.

There's a woman at the front desk who looks exhausted and busy. I can hear the mumbling of her radio on her desk and the static after each statement. I'm pretty sure I hear Peterkin's name but I don't know if it's my own head repeating her name over and over again.

"Um...excuse me, ma'am," John B says.

The woman barely looks up from her desk and writes something down on her pad of paper in front of her. "This is not a good time, kid." Had she just taken the time to look up, she would see the guy standing in front of her is covered in blood. Maybe then, she would be more worried. Instead, she focuses on her radio. "Adam, advise if you need air tran."

I open my mouth to give this woman a piece of my mind, but John B cuts me off. His voice soft and broken. "I know who shot the Sheriff."

I force myself to look up at him. He looks like he's trying his best to keep himself composed when all I know he wants to do is collapse on the nearest chair and just...breathe.

The woman freezes and finally takes in John B's appearance. She studies the stain on his shirt and the sweat on his skin, the hollowness behind his eyes and his shaky hands.

"You stay put," She says as she backs away. "I'll get a deputy."

I look around the station and feel an uneasy swirling motion in my stomach. It's unsettling. Like JJ's words are getting in my head. Maybe coming to the cops wasn't such a good idea.

My head snaps towards the radio when it statics to life again. "Central, three Vick. We have a suspect in our 31. John Routledge."

My blood runs cold and my eyes flash up to meet John B's. He's staring down at the radio like it's an actual person and he's frozen in shock.

Another woman's voice comes up on the radio. "Copy that. All units, be on the lookout for John B Routledge."

"Sixteen year old white male. Six foot. Last seen wearing board shorts, a 'Bad Brains' T shirt, and a faded red hoodie."

"Copy that."

My hands grab John B's to drag him out of here. My head scrambles to come up with our best plan, but I know staying here isn't it. Ward somehow managed to spin this around on my brother. I shouldn't be shocked, but I keep managing to be knocked out with more surprises right when I think things couldn't get any worse.

Just as I'm about to pull John B out of there, two cops come out from the back and stare at the two of us with big eyes. A man and woman dressed in their faded brown deputy uniforms. My eyes trail down to their hands that are both steady on the gun in their holster, ready to aim if they need to.

"Just...breathe. All right?" The woman cops holds out her hand as if to tell John B to stay calm.

The other officer nods. "John B. Do what she says."

"Look, I didn't...I didn't do it, okay?" John B tries to explain but his voice his shaky and lacks any sort of confidence.

"Dont...move."

"Go..." My voice is barely a hushed whisper but my tug on his arm is strong. "Go, go, go. Run!"

John B and I sprint out of the station before any officers can guard the door. I can barely hear them yelling after us through the drumming in my ears.

"Kie! Start the car!" John B yells as we basically body slam ourselves into her car. "Start the car, Kie!"

I basically rip the back door open and stumble into JJ's lap after tripping on my own feet. Everyone's yelling. The people in the car. The people running out of the police station.

"What? John B!" Kie yells as her hands shake. She tries putting the keys back into the ignition but her hands are trembling too much.

"The cops!"

"Shit!" JJ curses and looks over my shoulder at the cops who are sprinting towards us.

"Go!" John B yells at her. She turns the key but of course the car decides not to start. "Kie, drive! Go!"

"Go Kie!" Now I'm yelling at her.

"Stop the car!" One of the cops yell with her gun raised at the back window.

"I'm going! I'm sorry!" Kie says as anxiety cripples through her.

"Right now!" The woman cop from inside approaches the car. She tries to open it but the door is locked.

"What did you do?" Kie yells at us.

Kie moves the vehicle slowly out of the parking lot, but the woman is relentless. She runs with us side by side and hooks her fingers around the door handle.

"Open it!" JJ yells at John B.

John B opens the door to knock the cop off the car. The tactic works and she rolls on the ground. Only now we'll probably be written up for assault too.

I fall back into my seat and pant for breath. My head falls back against the cushioned seat and my eyes close. Okay, okay, think, Marleigh. Think.

Ward killed my dad. Ward stole my gold. Rafe killed Peterkin. And somehow, my brother is the one being framed for murder. Make it all make sense.

I hate them. The Camerons. Kooks. All entitled, greedy sons of bitches who don't know how to handle rejection or the word 'no.' They think all their meals should be served on a silver platter and kids like us are born for the sole purpose to serve them. They deserve to rot. They deserve to feel all the pain we do.

And yet, they don't. And they never will because that's the life we live. A life where people like Ward and Rafe Cameron can get a way with murder because no one would blink twice at their lame excuse of a story.

A lie.

It all boils down to money. Money we almost had right in our pockets. But now it's gone as is pretty much everything else in my life. My house. My dad. Maybe now my brother.

JJ laces his fingers with mine and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. I keep my eyes closed but let my head fall on his shoulder. I focus on his touch. How his thumb delicately rubs against my skin in a light up and down motion. How his lips are able to make my heart flutter when they kiss the top of my head. How his soft whispers, telling me everything is going to be okay, are sweet enough to make me melt into a buttery mess.

Maybe not everything's gone. I still have JJ. The constant in my life. The one who can always make me feel better even in the shittiest of situations. My sun on my darkest nights. My sight into the future when I can't even think of tomorrow.

I don't let JJ go. Even when Kie parks the car back at Heyward's shed under an open roof. We have literally nowhere else to go. The cops will undoubtedly check all of our homes, including Kie's. The Chateau is definitely surrounded by cops, waiting for John B and I to make the dumb move of going back there. And Tannyhill isn't an option anymore.

The sun is already poking out behind the trees as morning approaches. My body aches from sleeping in this cramped car, but I try to ignore the pain and focus on the fact that we're all still together. For now.

The five of us sit in silence. Some of us try to wrap our heads around what just happened and try to come up with another plan. The rest of us, like me, are so tired, they can't even remember what their middle name is.

The only noise in the car comes from Kie's radio. "...should be functional within twenty four hours." Meanwhile, another cop car with loud sirens pass us on the road without sparing this car a second glance. "And still, no arrest in the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from -"

Kie switches the radio off and glances back at John B and I. My brother has his seat reclined all the way back and is staring up the at the ceiling of the car. JJ has moved so his back is against the car door with one leg bent at the back of the seat and the other one on the floor. I sit between his legs and play with the necklace he gave me a couple days ago. Crazy enough, it feels like years since he gifted me this.

"Let's game this out," JJ is the first to speak. He looks at Kie and Pope in the front seat. "Maybe you guys can help, being the smart ones and all, but..." He sighs. "...who are the cops going to believe? Ward Cameron or us? So the accuser is a big shot developer, kind of lord of the island, got the governor on speed dial kind of person, and the accused...is John B, who is...pretty much a homeless sixteen year old boy at the moment."

"Thanks." John B deadpans.

"Okay, man. Yucatan, all right? I'm saying that's the only option." John B gives him a look to stop talking but of course JJ doesn't take the hint. "What other options do you have?"

"Enough with the Mexico bullshit," Kie says.

"Sarah will bail me out," John B says a lot more confidently than I feel about the situation.

"She did witness the whole thing," Kie says.

"Thank you."

"You really think she's going to pick you over her own family?" I can't help the attitude that drips off my tongue with each word. Sarah's a nice girl and I really liked her. But Rafe and Ward are her family. "No offense, but you've really only known each other for a few weeks."

"Not happening, bro. Okay?" JJ says, agreeing with me. "We gotta get you off the island."

"The ferry," Pope speaks up for the first time all morning. "It's the only way."

"Exit stage left while you still can. Before the entire island is on lockdown."

"Guys, just get down," Kie slumps further into her seat as another round of sirens pass us.

"Sarah's not a Pogue, John B," Pope says. He has a point. Sarah hasn't been friends with all of us for that long. I almost wouldn't even blame her if she took her family's side.

"Yeah. You can't stay here, man," JJ says, tightening his hold on me.

Another moment of silence passes through us and I wonder if JJ's right. Adrenaline on the island is at an all time high. No cop, no lawyer, no person is going to believe John B over Ward. Not without evidence. We need time to clear John B's name. So maybe getting him off the island would be best. Even if it's just temporary.

~ ~ ~

When Kie parks in front of the ferry, Pope hops out to buy the tickets and Kie moves to the passenger seat. I offered to go with him but JJ told me that was a bad idea because I would get recognized as John B's sister.

So here I am, useless and laying down as flat as I can next to John B to avoid being seen through the windows.

I look at John B. His eyes are closed and his chest moves heavily up and down. His fingers flex and clench into fists every couple of seconds. I wonder if his fractured hand is starting to hurt him.

"The first thing we're doing when we get off this stupid island is buying you a new outfit," I say. I cringe in disgust when I look at Peterkin's blood stain on his clothes. Another reminder that she's dead.

I look up to the front seat window when Pope comes back to the car. He's mumbling to himself and I think he has something in his hand.

"Okay. All right, no."

"Pope, can you act normal?" Kie says through clenched teeth and unlocks the door for Pope to get in.

"Okay, um...okay, so, bad news. The ferry's closed, and there is this."

Kie takes a piece of paper from his hand and looks at it. Her eyes close for half a second and she shakes her head. "Shit."

"What is that? What is this?" John B asks.

JJ snags the paper out of Kie's hand and looks at it. "Well, John B, uh...this is a good framer of you." He turns the paper over and shows my brother and I a picture of John B on a 'WANTED' sign with a cash reward of $25,000.

"Okay, so the whole island's looking for John B right now," Pope says.

"That's a lot of money," I can't help but laugh. "Gotta say, John B. Didn't think you would be worth that much. Hell, maybe I'll turn you in."

"Congratulations John B, you're famous," JJ says.

John B slaps the outside of my thigh with the back of his hand. I scoff and slap him back, which causes a strings of slaps and hits, though mostly playful, and some a little harder.

"Stop. Guys, stop!" Kie says loudly. JJ pulls my hands away from my brother and folds them in my lap. He gives me a warning look, like a teacher would their student, and it makes me want to laugh about how bizarre this whole thing is. "We got to get to the HMS. We need small, no running lights -"

"It's at the Chateau, Kie," John B says.

"And I wonder if the cops got the entire place taken out," JJ says sarcastically. "Let me think. Oh, yeah. No. they definitely have that place locked down."

"Let me think. Just give me a second," John B says frustratingly.

"JJ," Pope says.

"What?" He looks up.

"Does your dad still have the boat? The cigarette boat, the Phantom. The one he used to race."

I look up at JJ, but I can't read his emotions. He keeps his face unfazed. "Maybe."

"You could get right up the coast, no problem. Okay, look - "

"It won't be easy, Pope."

"The surf's running from three to four."

"I don't know where the keys are."

"Well, find them."

"I'm thinking," JJ snaps.

"Why is nobody moving forward?" Pope yells at the car in front of us and bangs the palm of his hand on the steering wheel.

I rub my fingers in a circular motion on my temples and close my eyes again. Words are being spat at about a million miles per hour. It's hard to keep up and my blood vessels twist with anxiety.

"Can you relax?" Kie hisses. "JJ, how much weed did you give him?"

"Guys," John B says. "Your car's on the poster."

Pope ignores everyone and hits his fist against the horn of the car. "Can we move it?"

"Pope!"

I'm going to puke.

"Come on!"

"Don't honk the horn!" Kie says, hitting Pope's arms away from the wheel.

"It's that guy. Right there!" I hear a voice outside our window say. The voice sounds young. Kid-like.

"Shit," John B tries pushing himself further into his seat. I didn't even realize he sat up in the first place.

"We got a snitch. Pope, turn the car on," JJ says, sitting up in his seat and leaning forward to hit Pope on the shoulder.

"We get $25,000 if we find him!" The kid says.

"Hey! He's right there!" Another voice. Manly. Great, we're drawing a crowd.

"Hey! We gotta go!" Kie yells.

"Pope, go!" I yell.

"Turn the car on!" JJ yells.

We're all yelling and I think my eardrums might burst.

"I found him first!" The kid says to the man.

"Hell you did, you little bastard!"

"Pope, turn the frickin' car on!" JJ yells.

The crowd starts growing around the car. John B turns into my side and pulls his hood up over his head.

"I am trying!" Pope yells back at us.

"Turn the car on!"

"Go, go, go!"

Pope jerks the car forward and hits the car in front of us. I jolt forward in the middle seat and stop myself from going through the windshield by pressing my two arms on the front two seats.

I hear the crowd gasp and move backwards to avoid the nutso in the front seat. Now that I think about it, who let Pope drive in the first place?

"Pope! Jeez!" JJ curses.

"Dude, back up!" Kie yells.

Pope puts the car in reverse and steps on the gas, but hits another car in the process.

"Hey!"

"The other way!"

JJ pats Pope's shoulder again. "It's okay! Pope, just go!"

Pope hits the corner of Kie's front bumper against the car in front of us again but continues to step on the gas until we're completely out of our spot.

"What are you doing?" Kie yells at him.

"We'll bump out!"

"Watch out!" I yell when I spot a couple of people crossing the street before Pope can kill them.

"Whoa! Whoa! Watch out!" Pope yells and swings his hands in front of him to motion for the people to jump out of the way. "Watch out!" My back hits the back of my seat, hard. Pope has the audacity to laugh. Head back and all. "Oh my god."

"Pope!" Kie yells. "What the fuck?"

"I'm living my best life right now," Pope says through laughter.

Kie slumps in her seat. "My mom's gonna kill me."

"I should be the last to say this, but you are not okay to drive," JJ says. I turn to glare at him and he puts his hands up in the air to surrender. He looks back out to the road and yells, "Stop!"

Pope stomps on the brakes and sends us skidding to a stop. JJ's arm whips out to the right to stop me from flying forward.

We're gonna die.

Pope looks over his shoulder at my brother. "John B, get out."

"What?" I glare.

"He's right," JJ says and my head snaps to him. He ignores me. "We'll draw the cops, you run."

"Shit," John B curses and unbuckles himself.

"I'll get the rig, and I'll meet you in the dump tomorrow, okay? Three o'clock, okay?"

"Wait, I'm coming with you," I say, but John B shakes his head.

"No. You stay here. Stay with them."

"I'm not leaving you!" I fight back and look at him like he has two heads. He must think I'm crazy if he thinks I'm going to let him run away by himself.

"JJ -" John B looks at him.

"On it. Go!" JJ's hands wrap around my waist, forcing me to stay in the car. I try prying his fingers off of me, but he's a lot stronger than I am. John B starts running off. "Three tomorrow at the dump!" When John B disappears behind the tree, JJ finally lets me go. I turn around and shove him back by his chest and slide over to the seat that John B was just in. JJ sighs and looks forward again. "Come on, go, go, go!"

Pope steps on the gas again and veers forward.

I look out the window and ignore the queasiness that has fully taken over my stomach. I know John B and JJ were right to keep me in the car. I would only slow John B down and get myself in trouble and therefore, be completely useless in helping my brother. But I can't shake the feeling that I'm abandoning him.

~ ~ ~

Pope, for some reason, is still driving. I don't know where he's going but it seems like we're on our way to Figure Eight. Pope turns on the radio, blasting one of North Carolina's hip hop stations.

JJ leans forward in the middle seat and pushes his head between Kie and Pope. He's managing to laugh like we're on some joy ride on Memorial Day weekend. "Pope, you clocked that car, man. Like that was so bad!" JJ shakes his head. "I'm just glad I'm not driving now."

" Pull over." Kie tells Pope. "JJ, it's not funny. He shouldn't be driving."

JJ grimaces. "Mama's mad."

Pope pulls the car over and switches seats with Kie. A delirious grin stays on the high boy's lips as he settles in the passenger seat.

"What are you -"

"Where are we going?" I ask Kie as she makes a familiar right turn.

"The last place they're gonna look." Kie says.

~ ~ ~

By the time Kie pulls up to Tannyhill, the sun has disappeared into the horizon and the pit of my stomach is the size of a category five hurricane. I can't remember the last time I ate or drank anything and the pounding in my head feels like a hundred bullets are penetrating my skull.

Kie's brilliant idea is to somehow get to Sarah and convince her to go to the police to confess what actually happened.

"Perfectly focused," Pope says to himself, which makes me glare at him. Pope is anything but focused.

"You sure this is a good idea?" JJ says.

"She's the only one who can clear John B," Kie says.

"Last place they'll look because of how stupid it is."

Kie ignores JJ and gets out of the car with Pope following right behind her. When I open the door, JJ pulls me back and closes the door again.

I look at him. My first reaction is to be concerned. Something in JJ's expression makes me fold. For a second I forget the mess we're in and I get lost in his blue eyes. It's just me and JJ and the world outside of this car no longer exists.

His warm hand wraps around my smaller one and he pulls me closer into him. His other hand cups my face, right underneath my jaw. My face feels like it's physically sparkling with the touch of his breath and forget butterflies - there is a zoo in the pit of my stomach. I glide into JJ like magnet.

His lips press into mine and I cave in. I pull him close enough to where I'm straddling him. Time stops as does my breathing. My fingers run through his blonde hair, tugging on the ends. He stifles back a moan and my face flushes pink.

I pull back for breath and rest my forehead against his. I don't know how many more times we're going to get to do that. And it hurts me thinking it might come to an end.

"I'm sorry," I say.

JJ ignores me. "When we get to Yucatan, we're getting a bungalow. We're going to live in bathing suits and get drunk off of pina coladas every day. Skinny dipping is going to be our main source of exercise - well, other than the hot dangerous sex we're gonna have every night. I'm never going to leave your side and I'm going to keep you safe until the day we die. In a few years, we'll get married. You're gonna wear that dress you wore to Midsummers and we're gonna have beautiful beach babies who will go on to win surfing championships by the time they're ten because they're going to be prodigies. Our prodigies. And John B is going to be there with us. Because he's not going to jail for a crime he didn't commit. Okay?"

I don't even realize tears are streaming down my face until he's wiping his thumb against my wet cheek.

"Promise?" My voice cracks and I really wish it didn't. But that's the life I want. That's the life I need. I don't care if it's in Yucatan or in the middle of a deserted island. I just need my boys, Kie, and Pope.

JJ kisses my left cheek. Then my right and my nose. "I promise."

"I love you, J."

"And I love you. Everything is going to be okay. I'm going to make sure you're okay."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

JJ laughs. "Okay."

As much as I don't want to leave him, as much as I'd rather stay here with JJ and forget about all our problems, I know I can't. Because Kie is probably freaking out, waiting for me. Because John B is on the run somewhere and I need to do something, anything to help him.

"I should probably..."

JJ rolls his eyes playfully. "Yeah I know. Be quick. Okay?"

I nod and jump out of the car before my head or my heart can make me do otherwise. I push my legs, that feel like rubber, over the stone wall that lines the Cameron's property.

I stop in my tracks when I hear Pope and Kie in some kind of intense conversation...well as intense as Pope can handle right now. I think he's still super high.

"Pope! Pope! Pope! Sh!" Kie says in a hushed tone.

"Hey, I'm trying to tell you, I love you."

Oh shit. I look at the stone wall I just jumped over and consider jumping back over it to avoid eavesdropping on this conversation.

"First of all, I need you to be quiet," Kie says.

"Okay, yeah. Quiet, I mean -"

"No. Stop talking, like, now." Kie says. This time, Pope doesn't speak. "Second of all...thank you for saying that."

I can't help but physically cringe at that statement. Because I know what's coming next.

"Okay," Pope chuckles.

"Now, that's very sweet, but it's - look it's not gonna happen."

"Okay, well, why not?"

This is like a car wreck you can't look away from. I had a feeling Pope was in love with Kie for years now. But he never acted on it. Didn't even flirt with her the way JJ did before we were together. A part of me always hoped he did. Because I wanted to see how Kie would react. I think the two of them would be really cute together. Kie could teach Pope to take more risks and Pope could give her a beautiful life that didn't require her working for her parents forever. They compliment each other. Always have.

"Because Pogues can't mack on other Pogues."

Pope scoffs. "That rule doesn't make sense, and nobody follows it. I mean look at JJ and Marleigh -"

"Look, I - I want something different."

"Okay, I-"

"I - I wanna go to Antartica, and I wanna ride camels..."

"I want to do those things with you."

"No. Pope, it's not gonna work."

"I want to be that person!"

"No. It's not gonna happen," Kie shakes her head. God, this is brutal. I can't wait to tell JJ. "Do you understand what I'm saying? Like..." Kie sighs. "Look, I know that that's really hard to hear right now, but we don't have time for this, and this is a really bad place to do it." She pauses and Pope doesn't respond. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah..." He says, but his voice has completely changed. It's dark and cold and doesn't match my Pope's personality.

"Are you ready for the plan, or..."

"Yeah."

"Okay..." Kie says and this is when I decide to make my entrance. I can't help with the situation at hand but at least I can cause a distraction.

So I cough. "Sorry for the hold up. JJ and I were just fighting over who has to be look out. So..." I force myself to look between Pope and Kie as if I didn't just witness their whole conversation. I try not to focus on the tear streak down Pope's cheek and look at Kie. "Ready?"

Kie nods and leads us towards the Cameron's. A house I almost called my home.

Kie is in charge of getting to Sarah Cameron by her bedroom window while I stay with Pope and create a distraction. We decided it was best if one of us stayed with Pope so I offered myself, considering what I just watched.

Pope still seems to be upset. He's not exactly being quiet trying to stay hidden like we should be.

"Gotta stick to the plan," Pope mumbles to himself and plays with the grill. I find the closest pillow on their patio set and place it on top of it. "I like camels. I like Antartica."

"Pope..." I say softly. The last thing I want is to piss him off more but he's making me nervous.

He ignores me. "What's wrong with that plan?" He bends down and picks up a rubber duck in a paramedic costume and looks at it thoughtfully. "Same." I don't know exactly what that means but he throws the duck into the grill and finds the lighter fluid. When he saturates the pillow...and duck, he turns the grill on. The fluid quickly ignites and flames shoot out from the grill. Pope's head is close enough to the fire that his hat catches on fire. "Shit!"

"Holy shit," I throw my arm at his head and knock the hat off of him. I stomp on it until the flame dies under my sneakers and pull him behind the closest tree that can hide us both.

Less than a minute later, I hear two pairs of footsteps come out. I recognize Ward's voice as he curses at the destructed grill until he stops and mutters the name "Sarah" under his breath and makes a beeline back in side.

Taglist: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz @moniamaybank @realistic-breadstick @urbinoutfiters @jeeperky @brebear121 @x-lulu @freddymaybank @jjpouggues @lemur46 @is-it-really-a-secret @kkmikayla @folkloverr @alexa-playafricabytoto @jjxrudy @migilini @stellarskys @rochyu @itsagurl @dazzlingnights 

#jj maybank fic #outer banks rewrite #jj x oc

[miserablesme]

The Les Miserables Changelog Part 2: 1985-1986 West End

Hello, everyone! This is the latest edition in my attempt to chronicle all of the musical and lyrical changes which the show Les Miserables has undergone over the years. Today, we look at the differences between the later of the two available Barbican preview audios (more on that in Part 1) and the West End variant of the musical as it existed in 1986. Only one rather poor quality audio is available of the show's pre-Broadway, post-Barbican form (though a friend of a friend has multiple masters from the era that she apparently keeps meaning to digitize). It is known to come from 1986, but the exact date remains a mystery. As such we cannot know when exactly most of the changes might have been made.

Reportedly (according to The Complete Book of Les Miserables) the majority of these refinements were made between the closing of the Barbican show and the opening of the West End one. However, some further refinements were doubtless made during the Barbican previews, and some likely were made between the opening of the West End production and whenever the audio was recorded. With all that cleared up, let's get started!

As I mentioned in Part 1, the very early Barbican previews of the opening "Work Song" featured this chain of lyrics (no pun intended):

I’ve done no wrong

Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer

Look down, look down

Sweet Jesus doesn’t care

I killed a man

He tried to steal my wife

Look down, look down

She wasn’t worth your life

I know she’ll wait

I know that she’ll be true

Look down, look down

She’s long forgotten you

As has also been established, later previews removed one sequence of lines to create the following exchange:

I’ve done no wrong

Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer

Look down, look down

Sweet Jesus doesn’t care

I killed a man

He tried to steal my wife

Look down, look down

She wasn’t worth your life

However, by 1986 another sequence was removed and the originally removed one was added back then. Thus, the still-current lyrics as of today are as follows:

I’ve done no wrong

Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer

Look down, look down

Sweet Jesus doesn’t care

I know she’ll wait

I know that she’ll be true

Look down, look down

She’s long forgotten you

A much better choice of cuts in my opinion. The point of the opening scene is to present the prisoners sympathetically, as comparatively innocent victims of an overly brutal and elitist police system. Establishing a member of the chain gang as literally being a murderer doesn't really help send that message!

Everything stays the same until "Fantine's Arrest". The Barbican previews feature this sequence:

(FANTINE)

There's a child who sorely needs me

Please monsieur, she's but that high

Holy God! Is there no mercy?

If I go to jail she'll die

(TOWNSPEOPLE[?])

Take this harlot now this minute

Let there be a full report

Let her go back in the morning

Let her answer to the court

(FANTINE)

Gentle Jesus! Won't you save me?

Are there tears enough to cry?

(JAVERT)

It's the same pathetic story

Please monsieur, my child will die!

I have heard such protestations...

By the 1986 recording, everything between "Take this harlot" and "Please monsieur, my child will die!" has been totally removed. I have a bit of a soft spot for that sequence, though I can't earnestly say the musical lost anything by removing it. Indeed Javert comes across as unbelievably heartless there!

As Part 1 pointed out, the earlier Barbican preview had Valjean shout "You know where to find me!" at the end of "Who Am I?", while the later preview did not. The 1986 recording interestingly reinserts that line, but now Valjean speaks it much more casually, without the slightly cheesy passion of the first recording. This makes me wonder whether or not it was initially removed because it was hard to take seriously, and a calmer rendition was reinstated as a compromise? Who knows.

A subtle change occurs at the beginning of the "Confrontation" sequence. During the Barbican previews, the number opens with a few notes being played and then repeated. However, by the 1986 recording the notes do not repeat. It goes straight into Javert's announcement (which Roger Allam has now learned to sing on time!) after the notes play the first time. The sequence would stay this way for quite awhile before being further shortened - more on that in a later edition!

We now go to the subsequent number, Little Cosette's famous "Castle on a Cloud" song. The Barbican previews give her a few lines before the main number starts (sung in a similar tune to her remarks about Mme. Thenardier's arrival at the end of the song):

They’ll come back any minute

And I’m nowhere near finished

Sweeping and scrubbing and polishing the floor

It’s the same every day, oh please!

Don’t let Madame hit me again

I should be used to it, but then

I know a place where nobody has to work too hard

And where I won’t be lonely again

These lines, taken closely from the original French concept album, don't really add much to the number plot-wise that won't be stated later except for more explicit confirmation that Mme. Thenardier is abusive. Perhaps partly for this reason, by the 1986 recording these lines are removed, and after the opening instrumentals it goes straight into the number we all know.

As I previously mentioned in Part 1, the later recording I have of the Barbican previews cut out the following lines during the preamble to Master of the House. I originally mistakenly claimed that the cuts occured after Thenardier's verse, but in actuality that verse too is removed.

(THENARDIER)

My band of soaks, my den of disollutes

My dirty jokes, my always pissed as newts

My sons of whores spend their lives in my inn

Homing pigeons homing in

They fly through my doors

And their money's good as yours

(CUSTOMERS)

Ain’t got a clue what he put into his stew

Must’ve scraped it off the street

Hell, what a wine

Châteauneuf de Turpentine

Must’ve pressed it with his feet

Landlord over here

Where’s the bloody man

One more for the road

One more slug of gin

Just one more or my old man is gonna do me in

By the 1986 recording, they are back in all their glory. Indeed, as you can read in Part 1 of this series Trevor Nunn himself has confirmed that the crew decided the number didn't work as well without the full preamble (an exception being, shockingly enough, Cameron Mackintosh).

During the Barbican previews, "Master of the House" was followed by a beautiful Well Scene between Valjean and Little Cosette:

(LITTLE COSETTE)

There is a castle on a cloud

I like to go there in my sleep

Aren’t any floors for me to sweep

(A FEW SECONDS OF INSTRUMENTALS)

(VALJEAN)

Don’t be afraid of me, my dear

Tell me your name and have no fear

How cold it grows when the sun has set

(LITTLE COSETTE)

I’m not afraid

Monsieur, my name’s Cosette

(VALJEAN)

Nor will you be afraid again

I come to take you from this place

There is a better world, you’ll see

(LITTLE COSETTE)

Give me your hand, and walk with me.

This leads into the humming duet between Valjean and Cosette. However, in what I consider the biggest mistake of this era's adjustments, the Well Scene was totally excised from the West End version and "Master of the House" is following directly by the humming duet. Trevor Nunn remarked a degree of regret about this in 1990's The Complete Book of Les Miserables. I don't have the book on hand right now, but I'll put down the exact quote later.

Of course, the Well Scene would later return in a much different form, but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Perhaps to compensate for the deleted scene, another scene is added after the "Waltz of Treachery" number. During the Barbican previews, Valjean's "It won't take you too long to forget" is followed by a lot of vamping and eventually a reprise of Valjean and Cosette's humming duet. The West End production slightly reduces the vamping from about one minute to about forty-five seconds, and adds a scene (sung in the tune of "Castle on a Cloud", specifically the "there is a lady all in white" part at first and the main chorus for "Nor will you be afraid again" onwards):

(LITTLE COSETTE)

We're going home right now, monsieur

What is your name

(VALJEAN)

Now my dear

I've names enough, I've got names to spare

But where I go, you always will be there

Nor will you be afraid again

There is a sun that's shining yet

(LITTLE COSETTE)

I'm going to call you my Papa

(VALJEAN)

I'm going to call you my Cosette

The normal humming duet follows. This is a fascinating scene which seems to be exclusive to the brief era after the Barbican previews but before Broadway. It's interesting how it incorporates elements both of the opening Well Scene and of the more well-known later closing scene to the "Waltz of Treachery". It's also intriguing how it incorporates elements not really touched upon this directly in any other version of the musical, specifically just how mysterious and secretive Valjean is to the world in general as well as the fact that Cosette, in fact, is not truly Cosette's given name.

Everything seems to be the same from this point until "The Attack on Rue Plumet". In the Barbican previews, this is how the opening goes:

(EPONINE)

'Parnasse, what are you doing

So far out of our patch?

(MONTPARNASSE)

This house, we're gonna do it!

Rich man, plenty of scratch

You remember he's the bloke wot got away the other day

Got a number on his chest, perhaps a fortune put away

Took off like a guilty man, why would he want to disappear?

Now we're gonna do him right, this time no one will interfere

Everything from "Took off like a guilty man" onwards is removed from the West End version. Later in the number, we hear approximately the following exchange in the Barbican show. Fans have debated what exactly some of the lyrics are, but this is how I hear them:

(CLAQUESOUS)

What a palaver, what an absolute treat

To watch a cat and his father pick a bone in the street

(THENARDIER)

Not a sound out of you

(EPONINE)

What do you care if things scare me

(THENARDIER)

Listen 'Ponine, there might be jewels inside

There could be something for all

There could be bruises enough

You will have your share

(EPONINE)

Well I told you I'd do it, I told you I'd do it

The West End production reduces the vamping prior to this scene. Additionally, everything between "What do you care" and "You will have your share" is removed, meaning the "I told you I'd do it" is a direct remark to "Not a sound out of you". This is a much more linear and succinct way of moving the plot in my humble opinion!

That's it for act one! Act two begins largely the same, up until the scene where Gavroche reveals Javert to be a traitor. First off, Javert's original claim that they will "play their games" is changed to "spoil their games".

Next is probably this version's biggest change in the entire musical up to this point. Originally Gavroche sung approximately the following lines (once again, the recordings aren't as clear as would be desirable) in a unique tune heard nowhere else in the musical:

Good evening, dear inspector, lovely evening my dear!

A charlie for a copper who pays a call

I know who you’re supposed to be, Inspector Javert

Who never showed no mercy to no one at all

So don’t believe a word, none of it will wash

This time you’re reckoned without Gavroche!

The West End version scrapped this sequence and replaced it with "Little People" (which originally appeared in a much longer form later in the musical). This is how it went:

Good evening dear inspector, lovely evening my dear

I know this man, my friends, his name's Inspector Javert

So don't believe a word he says 'cause none of it's true

It only goes to show what little people can do

And little people know, when little people fight

We may look easy picking but we've got some bite

So never kick a dog because he's just a pup

You'd better run for cover when the pup grows up!

This edited placement of "Little People" is often attributed to the original Broadway production, but in fact it made its debut in the West End show. I'm not sure when exactly this was, given that the original cast album uses the long version. However, by the 1986 recording this is how it goes. It should be noted that it's not quite in its Broadway form, however; most notably, "We'll fight like twenty armies and we won't give up!" is not present.

A minor difference occurs during the First Attack sequence. In the Barbican production, this is how the students respond to their victory:

(GRANTAIRE)

By God, we've won the day

(LESGLES)

See how they run away

The West End production swaps the two students' lines, allowing Grantaire's slightly incredulous spirit to have a more poignant and/or amusing effect depending on your perspective.

Consequently given the new placement of the song, the show obviously had to be edited to remove the original "Little People" number. Originally, this is the way the show transitioned between the First Attack and "Little People":

(ENJOLRAS)

Courfeyrac, you take the watch

They won't attack until it's light

Everybody stay awake

We must be ready for the fight

For the final fight

Let no one sleep tonight

(GRANTAIRE)

Only little boys may sleep

For little people need their rest

Little tucks are quickly drained

And little grapes are quickly pressed

Come on little mite

It's time to say goodnight

Cue the original "Little People" number in all of its long, silly glory (in case you somehow don't know it, here are the lyrics). The West End production (and everything afterwards) cuts Grantaire's verse, so that the scene transitions straight from Enjolras' announcement to "Drink with Me". As much as I love the full-length "Little People" number (and I really do love it), I admit removing it was definitely the right choice. It's just so sweet and optimistic, it feels out of place in a musical as tragic and cynical as Les Miserables. It doesn't help that its placement is between a high-stakes action scene and a somber, slightly drunk reflection on the nature of friendships, sex, and romance. It's a wonderful song but a terrible Les Mis song. I do love it, though, and I also love how Grantaire manages to make his pre-song metaphors alcohol-related.

In the sewers, the Barbican recordings feature a unique tune not heard anywhere elsewhere in the musical (it can be heard here) before transitioning to the final Valjean-Javert confrontation. Apparently, this music was accompanied by a short chase scene. However, by the time of the 1986 recording there is instead what is essentially one repeated note which then transitions into an instrumental version of "Look Down". This is followed by the same Valjean-Javert confrontation as before.

And that just about sums this part up! If I missed anything feel free to let me know, as my goal is to create a changelog as thorough and complete as possible. I plan on making more parts in the near future covering all the changes that have been made in the show up until this day (discounting concerts). Any feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what’s commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, I’d love it if you DMed me!

Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye…

#les mierables #les mis #les miz #barbican #west end #changelog #history #1985 #1986 #comparison #the les miserables changelog #changes #theatre #musical #part 2

[topsytervy]

Hello ~ Rafe Cameron

This is Part 2 to Goodbye cause I had the thought in my head and I didn't want to write it only for it to sit in my docs so you can read Goodbye (aka Part 1) here.

Blurb: A lot can change in five years.

Word Count: 3,677

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, smoking, cocaine, spelling/grammar mistakes, i think that's it.

Small note: I’m 19 and have never planned a wedding. I’ve been to my fair share of weddings as guests and my only experience with a wedding would have been when my sister got married, however, her in-laws are kind of assholes so her wedding was really lowkey and shit, like it took place in my sister backyard lowkey, cause her mother-in-law was like 'Im not paying for anything cause you guys wont last but I'll pay for your sisters weddings' so like I’m winging half of this shit if not most of it. I’m sorry.

~~~~~

It was 5 years later.

You were 21, along with the rest of the pogues, and able to legally drink and purchase alcohol. So no more hassle with a fake ID.

Nothing had changed except for college and jobs. You and JJ had broken up after two years of dating and, much to everyone's surprise, it was like nothing had ever happened between you two.

It was insanely easy to slip back into the friend zone with JJ, despite both of you thinking that it would be awkward. Both of you fell back into old habits fairly quickly. Sure there were the first couple of weeks where you two felt as if you had to force normality but after that, it was like nothing happened. Sure, JJ still called you princess and you still found yourself hiding into his side during scary movies, but those were habits you two had prior to dating, and old habits die hard.

The only other difference was that John B and Sarah were getting married.

They were planning on getting married at The Lodge at Bear River in fall which meant a ferry to the mainland and then an almost 8-hour road trip to the venue. 

You, Kie, and Wheezie were bridesmaids, Kie being maid of honor, and Pope, JJ, and much to John B's displeasure, Rafe were groomsmen, JJ being best man. 

You and Pope were walking together which left Rafe and his half-sister to walk together. 

Rafe looked at his sister and John B, trying to stay as unphased as possible. "Y/N's gonna be a part of the wedding party?" He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette from his spot by the pool. 

John B and Sarah were outside at the patio table with their wedding planner, going over guests and the wedding party. The three looked over at Rafe and Sarah nodded.

"Why wouldn't she?"

"No reason. If you need someone to walk with her, I'll do it." He told her as nonchalantly as possible. 

"She's walking with Pope." John B responded. Rafe made a face as he brought the cigarette back up to his lips and John B narrowed his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is there a problem?" Sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"No. No problem. It's your wedding."

John B rolled his eyes before turning back to the wedding planner. 

Rafe stood up and walked inside, flipping John B the bird as he walked by. He felt as if John B was put on this earth just to make him miserable at this point.

Rafe walked over to the bar and fixed himself a drink, Wheezie rolling her eyes from her spot on the couch in between Rose and Ward, who were currently scrolling through formal wear for the wedding. 

"Dad, Rafe's day drinking... again." The now eighteen-year-old piped up.

Rafe glared at her. "Just wait Wheezie. This will be you in a few years." He told his half-sister with a smirk.

Wheezie scrunched up her face in disgust at the sight of her brother holding his cigarette in one hand and drink in the other.

Rose, a glass of wine in her hand, rolled her eyes at her stepson as Ward, a gin and tonic in his hand, just sighed. "It's five o'clock somewhere, Wheezie." 

Rafe clinked his glass against his father’s as he made his way upstairs to his old room that he was temporarily staying in since his apartment building had taken some damage during the latest hurricane and was currently getting the necessary repairs done, and closed the door behind him. He sat down at his old desk chair and looked at the corkboard above the desk where a couple of polaroid pictures of you hung. The pictures were the first thing Rafe went looking for when he had gotten back to his apartment, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the little lockbox he had stored the polaroids still in the closet and completely unscathed. Rafe downed his drink as he swiveled his chair back and forth. 

Of course, John B wouldn't pair you and him up. That would be helping a brother out. Rafe did everything he could to show that he changed once he heard you and JJ broke up.

 He quit cocaine and took up cigarettes instead. He went back to college and got a business degree. He was currently working and getting along with his father. He had his life together, mostly, and on track. The only thing missing from his life was you.

He had barely spent more than 5 minutes in a room with you since the breakup because you were either by JJ or you retreated as far from him as possible. He'd casually bring you up in conversation with John B and your friend would just roll his eyes. 

"We don't bring you up in conversations, Rafe." John B told him one day.

That cut the blue-eyed man deep.

Especially since this was after Rafe gave John B the money he needed to buy Sarah an engagement ring. 

Some wingman John B was.

Rafe stood up with a sigh and walked downstairs, deciding to bring the entire bottle of whiskey upstairs since he could already tell it was going to be one of those nights. He halted by the patio door though when he heard his sister and John B start talking.

“Would it be that bad to pair Rafe and Y/N up for the wedding? I highly doubt Wheezie wants to walk with him. At least Y/N won’t whine about it.” She asked as she placed a hand on his arm, the wedding planner nowhere in sight.

Rafe leaned against the wall, biting his lip as he waited for John B’s answer. If Rafe was being honest, he was kind of surprised that his sister would even consider asking John B that since she could care less about what Rafe wanted.

“Sarah, I love you but you did not see her that day or the day after or the following month and a half after that. Do you know how hard it was seeing Y/N like that? Heartbroken. Not wanting to get out of bed. Thinking she did the wrong thing and that caused him to go over the edge. Do you know how many times JJ, Pope, Kie and I caught her reading the obituaries to make sure Rafe’s name wasn’t in there?” John B looked at his fiancée. “I’m not pairing them up together without her permission. That’s that.”

“Then ask her.”

"What?" 

"Ask Y/N if she wants to walk with Rafe?" Sarah saw the 'are you kidding' look in John B's eyes. "I'm serious John B. Rafe's changed a lot and, despite what you think, you cannot keep her from talking or seeing my brother all your life."

"I can try." The curly-haired boy stated, crossing his arms.

"You know what, JB? You are acting like a damn child. It is not going to break Y/N/N if you ask her one small question that contains the name Rafe, okay? I'm sure she can hear his name and not break down or something. It's been long enough. Let him have that 5 minutes he needs to talk to her cause, yeah I do not doubt that Y/N took their breakup hard, but what about Rafe? Hmm? Believe it or not John B, but my brother has fucking feelings too, okay. He probably took that break up just as hard and Wheezie and I witnessed it. So stop acting like even whispering Rafe's name will break her and just fucking ask her if she wants to walk with Rafe or Pope."

"Fine. If it makes you and Rafe happy, I'll ask her." John B huffed.

Rafe didn't stay to hear the rest, just turned around and walked back to his room, the whiskey bottle long forgotten. 

****

Fall had come quickly and the wedding date came even faster. It was like Rafe blinked and then he was on the ferry two days before the wedding, sitting next to you, very awkwardly might I add, his leg bouncing up and down as he played with his fingers. It was like he didn't know what to do with his hands. After all these years, the most natural thing to do with one of his hands was still to place it on your thigh and the amount of willpower it took to not do that exact thing was unbelievable.

Rafe had told his dad that he was going to rent his own car because eight hours in a car with his family was a hard no for him. 

So there he was, walking over to the car he rented and opening the door before stopping and watching you get in a car with Pope, Kie, and JJ.

You glanced up just before you got in, making eye contact with him. You gave him a small smile to make it a little less awkward and Rafe returned the smile before hopping into the car. He watched you guys pull away and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh before putting the key into the ignition and starting the car. 

This was going to be the longest three days of his life.

***

He was happy for the long-ass drive of day one considering once everyone got to the hotel, there was a silent, collective decision to all just turn in for the night. 

Day two was a little less chill. After being awoken by a panicked banging on the door of his hotel room, Rafe got out of bed as quickly as he could and opened the door, only to be greeted by Sarah who roughly pushed past him into his room.

“Yeah. Come on in. Good morning to you too.” He deadpanned before shutting the door.

“What the hell am I doing, Rafe?” She asked out of the blue, causing a look of confusion to settle on his face.

“I don’t know. You tell me.” He stated.

He watched as Sarah sat on his bed and ran her hands through her hair, letting out a breath. “Is this too soon? Am I getting married too young? Like, I’m 21, Rafe. I should be out getting blackout drunk and having hookups and having regrets but instead, I’m doing the exact opposite.” She rambled.

“Okay. I see what’s happening now.” Rafe walked over and sat down next to Sarah. “Sarah, trust me when I say that marrying John B will not hurt any of that. I guarantee that you and John B will get blackout drunk together and call someone for a ride. I guarantee you will be having hookups, it’s just that all of them will be with John B. And you will have regrets. What those regrets are, I have no fucking clue but life is full of them. Trust me, I have a lot of regrets and I’m only 24.” Rafe told her. “But, I don’t think marrying John B is going to be one of your regrets. Canceling this wedding would be. After all, the venue does say no refunds.”

Sarah snorted slightly and Rafe bumped his shoulder against hers. “Believe me, Sarah, if anyone is ready to get married at this age, it’s you. You came down with a damn binder filled to the brim when you were like seven and placed it in front of me and dad on the coffee table and told dad to start making connections with everyone in that binder, right down to the dress designer.”

Sarah smiled before turning and wrapping her arms around Rafe. “Who would’ve thought you could give a pep talk. And liked John B.” She said.

Rafe slowly wrapped his arms around his younger sister. “Apparently you because you came to me. However, this does not mean I like John B. I am not going to start canceling shit just to have some one-on-one time with that curly-haired surfer dude. Okay? I simply tolerate him because he somehow makes you happy.”

After breakfast and lunch that he spent with Wheezie, last-minute plans when he walked to your room to ask you to lunch only to knock and have you answer the door which caused him to quickly abandon that plan and say “Whoops sorry. Room 202 for Wheeze,”, the rehearsal dinner came quickly. 

In all honesty, Rafe wasn't really paying attention to the dinner at all. How could he when you were right there, quite literally within his reach, laughing and smiling?

The actual wedding day itself was stressful leading up to the ceremony but after everyone got where they needed to be, it was smooth sailing. Rafe and Wheezie walked out after Kie and JJ. 

Rafe watched you walk down with Pope and couldn't help the pang of jealousy he felt in his chest. He also couldn't help but imagine himself as the groom and you in a white dress, walking down the aisle towards him.

He quickly shook the thought from his head though, watching you take your place next to Wheezie before turning your attention towards the door to watch his dad and sister walkout. 

You glanced over at Rafe and smiled slightly when you saw him bring a hand up to his cheek, wiping away a tear. You turned your attention to John B before Rafe could look over and catch you staring.

You saw John B wipe his hands on his trousers as subtly as he could. You caught JJ's eyes and he shook his head, mouthing 'fucking whipped' to you.

You nodded and moved your eyes between Sarah and John B before settling them back on JJ. 'Obviously' you mouthed back before the pair of you stopped before someone caught you.

In all honesty, Sarah did and she saw Rafe catch the interaction as well, noticing him swallow hard.

The ceremony went smoothly with no objections -Rafe fought back the urge to object just to mess with everyone but he knew his entire family wouldn't appreciate the humor- and after pictures, everyone moved inside for the reception as the sun began to set.

Dinner and drinks were served, toasts were made -JJ had made sure to include a few of John B's stupid and most embarrassing moments, much to Rafe's pleasure-, and then the dancing began. 

Sarah and Ward had their father/daughter dance and then John B and Sarah had their first dance before everyone else was encouraged to join them on the dance floor.

Wheezie walked over to Rafe and Rafe looked at her. "I am not nearly drunk enough to get out on that floor and dance with you Wheezie."

Wheezie just rolled her eyes. "You have a shot right now to go ask Y/N to dance and no one will even notice you. Take it." Rafe ignored her. "Oh, okay. So you can sit there and stare but you don't have the balls to walk up to her and say 'wanna dance'?"

Rafe glared at his half-sister. "Watch your mouth, Wheezie."

Wheezie took one last glance at the dance floor and shrugged. "That's fine. Looks like someone else did."

Rafe had never scanned a crowd faster than he did right there and sure enough, there you were, a cousin of his with his hands on your waist and yours on his shoulders, moving slowly around the dance floor.

"I'm going out for a smoke," Rafe muttered before getting up and making his way out of the building. 

He stood outside and brought out his pack of cigarettes, along with his lighter, and opened up the little carton. He withdrew a cigarette before closing the pack and shoving it back into his pocket, placing the cigarette between his lips. He heard the song from inside end before another one started back up as he flicked the spark wheel a couple of times, his thumb landing on the fork before a flame appeared.

He cupped his hand in front of the flame and brought the flame to the cigarette that rested between his lips, making a mental note to buy a new lighter since his was running out of juice.

Rafe heard the door open and close as he shoved the lighter back into his pocket and inhaled. He blew out the smoke before looking over to see who had joined him and was a little surprised to see you.

Of course, Rafe knew at some point you'd duck out of the party for some fresh air considering in social situations where they were tons of people, you needed to get away for a bit and recharge your social battery. He just didn't expect you to do that so soon.

You both stared out in front of you, not saying anything and Rafe brought the cigarette to his lips again, taking another drag.

"It's beautiful out here." You breathed out, trying to start some conversation.

Rafe nodded as he exhaled. "Yeah, it is."

"I wouldn't mind getting married here." You added absent-mindedly.

If Rafe had a drink right now, he would've choked at your words. He nodded nonetheless. "Yeah. It's a pretty nice place to get married."

You looked over at Rafe. "You gonna be okay over there, big guy?"

Rafe turned his head to look at you, confusion written all over his face. "What are you talking about?"

"I saw you wipe a tear away, bub." Rafe's heart sped up at the nickname that you used to use on him. "When Sarah was walking down the aisle. You gonna be okay or should the same reaction be expected at Wheezie's wedding too?" You smiled as Rafe groaned, tilting his head to look at the almost pitch-black sky.

"Don't even mention Wheezie getting married. To me, she's still that annoying thirteen-year-old that was always eavesdropping and snooping through shit." 

"Awe, Rafe. You got a soft spot for your sisters now. That’s so sweet." You cooed, knowing that when he was 19, the only thing he did was complain about the two Cameron girls. "Seriously though, I think it's sweet that you walked with Wheezie and that you shed a tear today." You told him.

Rafe couldn't stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth. "I wanted to walk with you but you told John B you'd rather walk with Pope."

Way to go, dumbass, he thought to himself.

"What are you talking about?" It was your turn to look confused.

Rafe sighed, taking another drag from his cigarette and letting the smoke pour past his lips as he spoke. "I offered to walk with you and John B said no. I overheard him and Sarah talking a bit later and Sarah told him that it wouldn't hurt to ask if you wanted to walk with me or not. And I think you know the rest."

He might as well fess up about it since his mouth and brain already decided to rat him out anyway.

You shook your head. "I don't know the rest because John B never asked me who I wanted to walk with nor did he ask if I wanted to walk with you."

Rafe looked over at you, his eyes locked on yours. He knew when you were lying and this was not one of those times.

He chuckled before shaking his head. "God. He's such a dick."

You ignored his comment about one of your best friends and walked closer to him. "You seriously wanted to walk with me?"

Rafe nodded, looking down at the ground. He was in way over his head, admitting that after half a decade he was still thinking about you and wanting to be with you. Even if it was for like a 20-second walk down an aisle.

You felt a blush grow on your cheeks as you looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers.

A beat passed before you spoke, keeping your head down. "If it makes you feel better… I would've said yes."

Rafe looked at you. "Yeah?"

You nodded and he took another drag from his cigarette.

"Can we start over?" He asked.

"What?" Your Y/E/C eyes lifted from the ground to meet his blue ones.

"Can we start over?"

You bit your lip. "Yeah. Sure."

Rafe cleared his throat before placing a small smile on his face and giving a little bow. "Hello. I'm Rafe."

You breathed out a laugh before giving Rafe a slight curtsy. "Hello, Rafe. I'm Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Rafe shook his head. "Oh no. The pleasure is all mine."

Your heads both turned to the building when the song changed once again to a slower song and Rafe took Wheezie's advice on seizing an opportunity. 

"You still like this song?" You nodded once more and Rafe put out his cigarette before extending his hand to you. "Would you like to dance?"

You smiled and took his hand. "Of course."

He placed his hands on your waist and yours looped around his neck, him starting to sway you two slightly.

"You look amazing by the way." Rafe complimented, taking in the lavender color of your bridesmaid dress.

"Thank you. You look rather dashing yourself." You took your hands from his neck and straightened his tie before returning them to where they previously were.

You moved closer to Rafe, resting your head on his chest as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Rafe?" You mumbled towards the end of the song.

"Mhm?"

"I missed you." You admitted.

Rafe smiled before placing a kiss at the top of your head. "I missed you too, Y/N/N."

"Rafe?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you maybe wanna ride back to the ferry together? 8 hours is a long trip.  Especially when you're alone and I have to deal with JJ, Pope, and Kie." 

You heard Rafe’s heart speed up a bit before it calmed back down as he took a deep breath. 

"I would love that."

~~~~~~~

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #drew starkey

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

I dont even know the character but if your Donna rants are as amusing as your Dumbledore rants, then Id love to hear them

Your kindness is much appreciated, anon. Honestly, Donna Paulsen isn't nearly on the level of someone like Albus Dumbledore. She would probably hate him. Hard to say, given how different their worlds are. Still, there are many different ways for a character to frustrate the audience. Donna isn't a horrible person. She's just...very annoying.

The main issue is that she is one of those characters that the show simply refuses to call out on her nonsense. In fact, it really, really wants you to like her, and attempts to portray her as this flawless superhero, this total badass...and it does this mostly through her own mouth. Half of her lines are just her stating that she's "awesome" usually because she figures things out or already knows things about other people. She always acts like she knows everything and tells other people what's right and wrong. So it's sort of like BBC's Sherlock in that sense. This would already be something that could get old after a while, but what truly kills Donna's likeability is how she totally doesn't actually meet that standard, like, at all. She massively fucks up all the time. At least once per season. It would be one thing if she grew from these incidents, or her portrayal changed because of them. But this doesn't happen. Every time, the show either A) treats her as the victim, B) tries to argue that she was right, or C) goes with the interpretation that yes, she was wrong, but it's a one time thing, and shouldn't be held against her with all of the good that she's done. Seriously, the line "One mistake in thirteen years." Comes up in Season 7 and I have to say...really?

In Season 1, she goes behind Harvey's back on the Cameron Dennis case, a betrayal that upsets him so much that he considers firing her. All she says in response is "You're welcome." In Season 2, she shreds that document and gets fired for it. She never accepts responsibility for this and to the end, keeps insisting that she did it for Harvey. In Season 3...eh, I'll give her a pass on the whole Stephen thing. He fooled everyone. But Season 4, oh boy. The Liberty Rail fiasco is one of her worst outings, especially considering that at the end of it all, Harvey got her out of it...and then she left him and went to work for Louis. And all because *checks clipboard* he wasn't sure if wanted to be more than friends? She literally just hires herself back as Harvey's secretary when Mike gets caught. "You saying you're coming back to me?" Uh Harvey, you do realize that you get a say in that? In Season 6, she has the whole "The Donna" storyline, which is...probably the worst arc on the show. It is just so beyond pointless. It reeks of seasonal rot. In Season 7, she gets herself appointed C.O.O. by using reverse psychology and asking for a Partnership she knows she can't have, and causing all kinds of drama...instead of just, y'know, asking. Then she kisses Harvey while he's dating Paula. And has the nerve to criticize how he reacts, and the choices he's made in his relationship. In Season 8, she breaks privilege for personal, selfish reasons...and gets away scot free. Harvey doesn't even care that she betrayed him at this point, he just minds that she "lost faith in him." And this? This is what ultimately gets them together? Please.

I stopped caring about Harvey and Donna's "will they/won't they" in Season 5. It was definitely the season that gave them the most development, before hitting the damn reset button by having Donna hire herself back. Because every "will they/won't they" ends the same way - yes, they will, in the last few episodes or the finale. Harvey and Donna's relationship in Season 9 was wholesome, sure. But it was too little, too late. In general, Donna has a lot of issues about her contributions to the firm. She feels unappreciated, clearly, because half of her lines are just her demanding other people (usually Harvey) recognize what she's done. Even after she found out that he paid her salary and even gave her raises that no other secretary got. There's definitely something to be said about Donna being led to believe she was more important than she is. That clearly affected her and they could have done something interesting if they explored it more. But I think all of the examples I provided are proof that she can be selfish. She loves to dig in her heels and insist that she's put Harvey first again and again for years. Trouble is...I can remember a lot of times she said this, but not that many times that she actually did it. Her actions speak louder than her words. She just feels like a very clear example of a character who the story really wants you to like, and practically instructs you to. Rose Tyler also comes to mind. Yet I don't feel like Donna came close to earning the pedestal that she was placed on.

The other characters made mistakes as well, but they were treated as human beings, not superheroes.

#Suits USA #Suits TV #Suits #Donna Paulsen #Harvey Specter #Darvey #Anti Donna Paulsen #Not exactly #Anti Darvey #But I'll tag it as such just in case

[just-horrible-things]

Here’s some old writing (probably 2014? gee.) from a tabletop game I was once in. This was backstory for my character.

Cameron Blithe remains one of my favourites, and I may yet overhaul the character and work him into something new. 

---

At Attention

"At ease!" the sergeant bellowed, and the thud of two score booted feet hitting the ground echoed round the courtyard. "Not you, Blithe!"  Cameron snapped back to attention, confused and a little apprehensive. Being singled out was never a good sign.  "You stay there. Everyone else, dismissed! Come on, move it along! Don't waste time!"

The courtyard emptied rapidly, footsteps echoing off the concrete buildings along with the sergeant's voice. Soldiers scattered, some walking, others jogging so as not to arrive late to their next posts. Cameron stayed still, eyes fixed on the peeling paint above the door opposite until the movement died down. 

He thought he'd heard the sergeant leave, but he couldn't be entirely sure. It wasn't worth looking round. Either this was some trick to fool him into moving so he could be called up on disobedience again, or he was just going to be left here for an hour or two. 

Well, he was no stranger to standing at attention. If that's what was to happen, then fine. He'd just deal with it. He counted time in his head, taking note of the five minute mark when he should have showed up for patrol. He wondered if the sergeant had reported that he'd left Cameron standing in the courtyard, or if he'd have to explain his absence later. Probably the latter, he mused darkly, and he'd more than likely be punished for that too. 

The air was cold and damp and smelled of sweat and wet concrete. As the warmth of exertion from drilling started to fade, Cameron became aware of the breeze. It carried the sound of men laughing somewhere, and the occasional call and response of patrols passing each other.

Ten minutes became fifteen, then twenty. Despite the demands of the posture and the chill of the air, Cameron found himself mentally relaxing and his mind beginning to wander. In many ways, the inactivity was a welcome break from the constant demands on his attention, time and stamina, and it was certainly less exhausting than drill. He let his gaze wander, examining the back of the barracks and what little he could see of the apparently empty courtyard. It was not so intimately familiar as the square more commonly used for drilling, and though he must have spent at least a dozen hours here, he'd never had the freedom to really inspect things. 

Here at the back of the compound, the lack of funding was even more apparent. Doors were battered round the edges, steps crumbling, and he even saw a window with a cracked pane. Things were clean, certainly. They tend to stay clean when there's a large body of soldiers kept around the place with nothing to do but busywork. Cameron knew first hand how much effort went into scrubbing the roofs clean of moss and mould. But all the cleanliness in the galaxy couldn't compete with a bit of fresh money to replace damaged structures. Fresh paint was cheap enough, but layered over damp concrete it never stayed looking fresh for long. 

The state of the buildings was a bit depressing, really. Clearly nobody cared about a back-end-of-the-galaxy posting like this. The status quo ruled here, second only to the slow grind of entropy tearing things down bit by bit. The future seemed bleak. 

If he were facing the other way, he might have been able to see the mountains over the concrete walls. The distant peaks were frigid, sheer and uninviting, but at least they were something to look at. Unfortunately, it still wasn't out of the question that the sergeant was standing somewhere behind him, waiting for Cameron to move so he could scold him and inflict some worse punishment instead. By necessity, his view was restricted to a small area of flagstones, the wall ahead, and a small slice of dim, clouded sky above. 

He hoped the sergeant was behind him, getting bored. He could suffer there in silence, he wasn't going to get the satisfaction of watching Cameron falter or give in. Of course, if he did get bored he'd be completely free to leave without giving Cameron the time of day, let alone permission to stand down. But at least Cameron would hear him leave, and then he'd know he could afford to fidget. Realistically, he was fairly sure already that he was alone, but at least he could get a bit of petty satisfaction out of imagining the NCO stewing in boredom, irritation and disappointment.

Time passed. The sounds of some other unit drilling rang out for a while, then subsided again. Though he'd long stopped counting minutes, Cameron estimated maybe an hour and a half had passed when the rain started. 

It was no surprise; the sky had been darkening steadily all afternoon. It was light drizzle at first and not unpleasant, though he knew it would soon soak through his clothes and make the cold worse. A bird flapped past somewhere above and behind him, presumably seeking shelter before the rain started in earnest. 

For a while, the rain relieved the boredom a little by giving him something new to look at. The ground darkened in spots, few and small at first, then larger and faster as the rainstorm gathered momentum. He wondered how long it would take for the water to seep into the sheltered spaces under his feet. Maybe when he finally moved away he'd leave a pair of pale footprints behind. 

Drips congregated on the edge of the roof, merged with one another, and fell to the concrete below. Puddles began to form in the dips where the concrete was worn or damaged. Drips gathered on Cameron too, running down his face and down the back of his neck. Standing still, he didn't mind the wet so much as the cold. Wherever the rain soaked in, the wind seemed to blow stronger and colder. Soon he was fighting the urge to shiver. It didn't matter that nobody was watching, someone was sure to come back to fetch him eventually, and he refused to be snivelling and miserable when that happened. Let the weather do its worst, he'd stand like a soldier and show no weakness.

Watching drips grew dull once all the surfaces were saturated. For a while he shut his eyes against the gusts of wind which kept driving the rain into his face, but he wasn't entirely comfortable that he'd hear it if someone approached, so he compromised by squinting angrily into the rain. The light worsened, and eventually he realised dusk was falling. It came as something of a surprise. He must have underestimated the time. He'd expected to hear more noise of people dispersing at end of shift, but it must have been covered up by ambient noise.

Daydreaming about all the ways he'd like to kill the sergeant, he watched night creep slowly over the courtyard. Electric lights flicked on in windows one after the other, but none were close enough or angled right for him to see in. It was a small blessing. At least nobody could see him standing here, trying to pretend he wasn't freezing cold and soaked to the skin. 

It was almost a relief once the rainwater soaked through the last of the warm, dry spots in his uniform. Sure it was cold and miserable, but at least it wasn't getting colder anymore and he could stop trying desperately to cling to the lingering warmth. Provided he didn't stare at the lit windows, his eyes adjusted well to the growing darkness. He consoled himself with the thought that at least he wasn't doing night training exercises, and thus didn't have to count mud, thorns to the face, or being shouted at as among his woes. Things could be worse.

The effects of fatigue snuck up on him quietly. The muscle ache and general sense of exhaustion he was used to as a standard consequence of standing at attention for a few hours at a time. Shivering was less welcome, especially once it set in in earnest and he could no longer resist it by sheer willpower, but not unfamiliar. 

What caught him off guard was the sense of general illness. At first he put the queasiness down to hunger. He'd missed a meal, it was to be expected. When it got worse, he ascribed it to life simply hating him. Clearly this was the perfect time for him to get ill, and thereby maximise his misery. Maybe he was getting pneumonia from the cold. If he got seriously ill, maybe the sergeant would get in trouble. It would serve the bastard right. 

Time continued to pass, and the nausea continued unabated. One by one, the lights in the windows went out. His feet were numb, though he couldn't tell if it was the cold or the prolonged immobility. He wriggled his toes in the hope of improving circulation, and dimly felt them move inside his boots. His hands felt strange too, oddly distant, and the sound of the rain began to echo weirdly in his ears. With a jolt, Cameron recognised the symptoms of an impending blackout.

He considered taking a break, sitting down and waiting for the feeling to pass. Nobody would see. He took deep breaths, trying to steady himself and to avoid throwing up. Nobody would see, but it would still be backing down. He wouldn't let them win. Breathing deeply helped a little. The oddness in his hearing subsided, and the nausea returned to manageable levels. Everything was fine. It was just a passing weakness, he was fine.

He woke sprawled on the ground. 

Rain still fell all around him, and it was dark. Though he was cold to the bone, his face felt flushed and far too warm. The cool, hard concrete was not unpleasant, but he forced himself to sit up and look around. 

He was still alone. Nobody had seen him collapse. 

He checked himself over brusquely for injuries and found nothing worse than a few bruises, a dry throat and a headache. He hadn't thought his uniform could get any wetter, but on standing up from the puddle he'd been lying in, water ran in little streams from the cloth. 

He had half a mind to curl up on the floor and wait for dawn, but he knew his pride would never let him do that. He'd been ordered to stand at attention, and come hell or high water that was exactly what he intended to do. 

Agony ran through his legs as he forced himself back into the correct posture. He gritted his teeth and waited for it to subside, shivering violently. He'd been lying still in the cold, of course he was stiff. The rational part of his mind reminded him that standing still in the cold probably wasn't going to be any better, but he clung determinedly to the conviction that the pain would go away. Surely he'd warm up soon, shivering like this. He'd remember to move his feet more this time, and flex the muscles in his legs to ward off cramp and fainting. 

To his satisfaction, and mild surprise, the strain did again become more bearable. He wondered how long he'd been out cold, but even when conscious he'd completely lost track of the passage of time. With the sky still dark, it could have been any time of the night, and anywhere between one and eight hours left to wait until dawn.

Holding out for the return of the light became Cameron's focus and driving motivation. He guessed at times in his head, building elaborate estimates of how long he had left to wait. When the rain slowed to a drizzle, he convinced himself that the change in the weather must be a result of temperature changes from the imminent dawn. By the time it started pouring down again, he'd moved on to a new hypothesis. 

Realistically, he knew that there was no guarantee that dawn would bring any relief. It seemed increasingly likely that the sergeant had no intention of coming back to tell him to stand down. He must have had this planned out from the beginning. There was no reason to drill here rather than in the main square, except that here he could leave Cameron standing for longer before a senior officer found him and ordered him to do something more useful. 

Cameron had no idea how frequently this courtyard was used. For all he knew he could be here for weeks before anyone came back out here. Morbidly he wondered what they'd do to the sergeant if he passed out and died here before anyone found him. 

Of course, it would be ridiculous to stand here until thirst killed him. Technically, there was nothing stopping him from walking into the nearest building right now and getting a drink of water. He could come back out and nobody would be any the wiser, or he could just bugger off and get some sleep. What was the sergeant really going to do to him for disobeying an order like that, make him do press-ups? 

He could hear the conversation already though, and see that smug bastard's face in his mind's eye. Some people would think Cameron had done the smart thing, and some would think he was being an insubordinate idiot again, but he and the sergeant would know what had really happened. If he walked away now, he'd have backed down, and admitted that he was too weak to deal with standing at attention in the rain for a while. 

Well, fuck that.

When dawn finally arrived, it was subdued and miserable. Much like Cameron, not that he'd let it show in his posture. The greying of the sky that signalled the first light of the new day was accompanied by the noise of a few hundred people turning out of bed at half past five in the morning to present themselves for inspection. Lights clicked on in the windows of the barracks, then off again as the owners vacated the rooms. 

One lonely light stayed lit. Listening wearily to officers shouting, Cameron wondered if the room was still occupied for whatever reason, or if the inhabitant had simply forgotten to turn the light off. Trying to navigate a floor plan of the building in his head kept his mind busy, but not busy enough to shut off the stray thoughts still cataloguing all the reasons he had to be miserable. Thirst and pain fought for dominance, shadowed closely by cold. Hunger, exhaustion, boredom and the need to take a piss were all present, but barely got a look in in comparison.

Despite it all, as the light increased he did find his spirits rising. There were no more reasons to be cheerful than there had been all night, but something about the light made him feel better none the less. Maybe it was just the fact that once again he could tell what time it was, or that there was more to listen to and look at by daylight than by night. 

For an hour and a half, he counted seconds. The numbers got depressing and he kept losing count, but if he stopped he'd have nothing else to do and he wouldn't know what time it was.

Shortly after the ninety minute mark, he was interrupted by someone speaking behind him. "Drilling on your own, soldier?" Startled, Cameron took far longer to reach the correct response than he should have done. "No, sir," he managed, struggling to think of an appropriate way to phrase the reason for his standing at attention all alone in a empty courtyard. 

The man stepped round into his field of vision with an expression of equal parts concern and amusement. Cameron only barely recognised his face, but the lieutenant's stripes on his uniform told him all he needed to know. He saluted the officer, as sharply as he could convince his trembling muscles to move, and was quite pleased with his success.

"Do share then, why are you standing out here in the rain?" "Sergeant Yandle's orders, sir," he responded. Apparently running several seconds behind his mouth, his brain belatedly prompted him with a handful of witty lines he could have used instead. "I see. And when were these orders given?" Cameron's mind raced. Or rather, it felt like it did. From the difficulty he was having calling up mundane facts, he rather suspected his mind was moving at something of a crawl. "At approximately thirteen hundred hours, sir." "Yesterday?" "Yes, sir." "Good grief, man," the lieutenant still seemed torn between horror and laughter, "At ease!" Cameron couldn't quite stop his breath catching as he changed his posture. Every muscle in his body complained at being forced through another set of precise movements, but the relief of moving at all was worth it.

#my writing #my ocs #cameron blithe #military whump

[scripttorture]

I've googled around and gone through this blog a bit looking for something that could help, but either I missed it or- I need to ask it myself :'D I understand most of the effects of sensory deprivation(complete deprivation, in this case, no sound, sight, feeling, ect), but what would the immediate effects be like after just being released from said deprivation? Would there be outbursts towards anyone trying to help/touch them, extreme sensitivity to sound or light, ect? Thank you in advance you're doing a great job with this blog <3

So I think part of the reason you’re struggling to find any information is a combination of academic paywalls and the dubious recording of results for some of these experiments.

 My understanding is that there are several data sets for sensory deprivation but the sources I have access to cover three: Hebb’s experiments with volunteers in a ‘Baldwin’s box’ set up, Cameron’s abuse of around 100 mental health patients using similar set up and Lilly’s experiments using volunteers in a tank. Cameron’s notes are only really ‘helpful’ for demonstrating that sensory deprivation quickly and thoroughly fucks up the human brain. They establish a timeframe where permanent damage is likely and show what that damage is likely to look like.

 You can read about that in the masterpost here.

 It is worth stressing that consent and being able to stop something make a huge difference to our experience of it. It can, quite literally, change the amount of pain we feel. Experiments with sensory deprivation and solitary confinement both confirm that volunteering for something harmful increases the length of time we’re ‘comfortable’ subjecting ourselves to it.

 For Hebb’s volunteers the main side effect after around 24 hours was extreme disorientation. They struggled to walk down straight corridors. The sources I have don’t report distress in the volunteers. They also don’t report how long it took for the volunteers to re-orient themselves and recover.

 Based on what is reported I get the impression that the volunteers recovered relatively quickly. I can’t say with certainty whether they did struggle with things like light and noise in that initial period. That information just isn’t recorded in the sources I have. What is recorded is a pretty huge lack of coordination and confusion. There might also be some memory problems surrounding time spent in the ‘box’ (it was actually a small room but the term box seems to have stuck.)

 It’s difficult for me to be sure whether the descriptions from volunteers are memory problems or a result of the hallucinations and confusion sensory deprivation causes. Hell it could be all three.

 There aren’t any reports of aggression or violence in the volunteers. At least not that I could find.

 Volunteers from Lilly’s tank seem to have come out of 2-3 hours in the tank kind of… well high. They may have hallucinated but they generally seemed relaxed. Which might be why the tank was re-purposed as a spa treatment. (For those who wish to manipulate their brains I assume?)

 Volunteers from experiments using Baldwin’s Box do not seem to have experienced the same relaxed state. But there aren’t any reports of high anxiety that I could find.

 You do see reports of aggression and high levels of anxiety in some of the ‘experiments’ that were conducted without the consent of the subjects. For instance when Baldwin locked a soldier in one of these boxes and refused to let him out the man kicked his way out of the box and attempted to beat Baldwin. Baldwin’s notes describe the man crying, screaming and begging to be released.

 Cameron also recorded a high degree of distress in the people he was abusing.

 So some of the answer depends on whether we’re talking about a voluntary or abusive scenario. It’s also worth considering that an outburst may not be coherent or coordinated. Which means that it’s unlikely to be effective.

 I am struggling a little here because what you’re asking isn’t really something that’s covered by the dataset. I think it’s plausible. But I also think it’s worth taking a moment to consider the character.

 They’re going to be disorientated, confused and distressed. They’ve probably hallucinated. Their memory might not be trustworthy.

 Do outbursts fit with the character in this state? Does it make sense with the interaction these characters have had previously?

 Is this rescuer/helper someone the victim character has known for a long time and cares about or are they a relatively new acquaintance? What’s the level of trust here and does it come with expectations like ‘why didn’t you save me sooner’?

 Because without clear evidence to fall back on those are good narrative things to base the character’s response on.

 Sensitivity to light and sound would make logical sense. But based on the accounts I think this is more likely to feed in to the disorientation and look like disorientation rather then sensory overload. Less ‘light and sound hurt’ and more ‘I can not interpret this light and noise as things I recognise and speech’.

 I can’t be sure of that though. There’s a real lack of survivors accounts here. Most of what I’ve read is someone else’s impressions or observations of people who were in sensory deprivation (whether it was an abusive scenario or not.)

 That can be helpful. An outside perspective is useful when we’re talking about things that mess with memory and the brain. But there’s a limited amount outside perspectives can tell us about the lived experience. Survivors might have a very different take on this observed disorientation. They might have different ideas about sensitivity to sensory input too.

 I put a lot of emphasis on realism because I think it’s important to know when we’re breaking with reality and to consider what those breaks with reality imply. I think that we need to be more mindful and considerate of real survivors when we write about violence.

 I don’t think we should ignore the fact that most people get their information on torture from fiction rather then the increasing body of scientific studies. Especially when fiction usually falls back on tropes that are not only wrong but wrong in ways that tacitly support torture.

 But I’m the first person to admit that we need more data about a lot of this stuff. There are some questions we honestly don’t know the answers to yet.

 I don’t think we can blame anyone for using the best information they had at the time and making a reasonable guess at the rest. Even if that guess turns out to be wrong.

 So take the information you have, look up some of the sources in the Sensory Deprivation masterpost if you can. Then try to build something that is a reasonable extrapolation based on what you’ve read and fits with the characters you’ve created.

 I hope this helps :)

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#foolishly-snowy #writing advice #tw torture #tw medical abuse #sensory deprivation #effects of sensory deprivation #time frames for sensory deprivation #writing survivors #writing symptoms #memory problems #disabling torture #discrimination against the mentally ill

[waywardrose]

On Babbushka

There is a group of well-known writers in the fandom who have been discouraged and put down by one of their own, Zannah - @babbushka​. It happens behind the scenes in DMs. It happens in posts and tags.

In DMs, she has started conversations with seemingly innocent questions. When she doesn't receive the response she was aiming for, she diverts the conversation to criticizing and humiliating the person. She has attacked writers for tagging—or not tagging—a post in a way she deems appropriate. She has gotten into arguments over how characters were portrayed and then tried to claim victimization when the other person wouldn't knuckle under.

She will appeal to her following to attack any fan or creator who has an opinion that differs from her own. She will encourage friends to send rude anons. Those same friends will also DM the target with rude remarks.

Several creators have stopped writing altogether because of their interactions with her.

We are tired of being discouraged. We are tired of being talked down to. We are tired of being bullied. Enough is enough. Under the cut we share our stories, let the chips fall where they may. It's up to you, the reader, to decide whether to support her.

We can only warn up-and-coming writers, artists, fans, and supporters of her behavior.

-

Hope - @callmehopeless

The Australian bushfires of the 2019-2020 season were nightmarish—for those living through it and those witnessing. As the season went on, cries for help increased. Joaquin Phoenix used the time during his Best-Actor acceptance speech at the Golden Globes to call for unity, action, and accountability. Regardless of what we may think of him, it was a thoughtful speech.

Hope, who is an Australian, found Mr. Phoenix's message encouraging and reblogged a gifset of his speech.

That morning, Zannah made a post about Mr. Phoenix's shady past and his association with a known sexual predator. The main reason wasn't because his speech was inappropriate or not timely, but because she didn't think he should be the one to get the attention over other actors who had spoken of the bushfires during the Golden Globes.

While Hope confessed she was scared of the bushfires, scared for her loved ones, Zannah was more concerned with purity. To Zannah it was about the face of the message, not the message itself. It didn't matter that Mr. Phoenix was amplifying support for Australia, what did matter was that he had done bad things.

It was virtue signaling on Zannah's part.

Still, this remains a complicated argument. Can a person who has done bad things actually have something positive to add to a cause? Should we listen to a problematic person if they share an insight? Does it reflect poorly on us to agree with their isolated statement? Will we be canceled, too? What about the bigger picture?

In this case, the bigger picture was hundreds of homes were destroyed in the bushfires and families were displaced. People died, thousands of animals died. And it was because of climate change. Mr. Phoenix called for his rich peers to examine their respective lifestyles and to give back.

Yes, Mr. Phoenix has done bad things. Yes, he has associated with people who have done bad things. His words resonated with people on Tumblr, and they reblogged part of his speech. He said something that gave Hope hope.

Hope was asked by a third party how they could help. She came back with a resource guide for those who wanted to send aid to Australians.

When it became obvious Zannah wouldn't silence Hope, Zannah decided to sub-post about the interaction. There, she accused Hope of being a rape apologist for reblogging a gifset and finding a little comfort in it. Zannah placed her ego before someone who was facing a very real danger.

Side-eying an actor is one thing, shaming a person you know for finding solace during a scary time is another. Hope isn't responsible for which voice got picked up. The only "colors" being shown here are Zannah's. She put her own concerns about being perceived as morally pure above actually supporting a friend.

I'll keep this brief - I knew Zannah for many years. And on one of the lowest weeks of my life, when my suburb was burning down and I feared for my family: she convinced me I was a rape apologist for sharing Joaquin Phoenix's speech asking for action on bushfires. In all my life, I never felt more alone. To add insult to injury, she then posted memes mocking me - something that has stuck with me to this day.

I've had dear friends quit the fandom because of her kinkshaming. I've had people I love message me distraught over what she's said.

Enough is enough.

— @callmehopeless

-

Rose - @the-wayward-rose​

This PM exchange started after I tagged my reblog of Zannah's fic Feast (Cameron Bistle x Reader) with cw: white reader. I had been on her taglist, and I wanted to show support because I liked the fic overall. For context, the reason for my tag is because of this sentence:

"But then you're blushing so pretty and squeezing his hand affectionately and reaching for the handle to the passenger side of his car, and then you're laughing when he swats your hand away to open it for you, and then you're beckoning him down as if to ask a question – only to place a chaste kiss to his lips instead."

This is from Cameron's point of view.

She asked the reason for the tag, and I explained it was because of the use of "blush" to describe Reader's appearance.

She misunderstood my premise. I did not mean only white people blush.

According to Merriam-Webster, blush means "a reddening of the face especially from shame, modesty, or confusion" or "a red or rosy tint."

It is an autonomic response, though. It happens in all humans for body cooling and nonverbal communication. The main problem with using it universally is that melanin obscures the appearance of said autonomic response.

Here's an example of three runners:

The two pale women, left and center, are pink in the face. They are blushing. The woman of color on the right is likely blushing, too. However, the melanin in her skin obscures the blood in her cheeks. She is not pink.

That's the pitfall of the word "blush." The observer can't always see it. We know what it feels like. We all do it. The face and/or neck gets hot. The use of "blush" is shorthand in narrative, and I understand that. Nevertheless, when writing to cater to a reader-insert audience of unknown heritage, writers need to consider describing with universal terms.

Again, she misunderstood my premise. I clarified by asking how Cameron sees the Reader blush under an abundance of melanin:

She sidestepped the physiological explanation to go straight for justification. She tried to legitimize "blush" as "perhaps [this]" or "perhaps [that]" when I stated earlier that blush by definition is pink or is to redden. That's the logic. A noncommittal, covering-all-the-bases, complicated defense diluted the conversation.

With her earlier "I have friends of color, hence I can't be exclusionary" statement, I wasn't sure she would get my point. I take full responsibility for not explaining, too. I should've asked for some time to gather my thoughts, but I didn't. Truthfully, I was unprepared, because I didn't think my insignificant tag would be an issue.

Also, I was confused why she was trying to police my blog.

Her replies came rapidly—before I could mention my confusion—and felt aggressive in the moment. Maybe that wasn't her intention, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

That doesn't take away from the fact that words have meaning. It's why we use specific words. It's not understood in the narrative that her use of "blush" could mean a bunch of things. If I had known, I wouldn't have tagged as I did. How is a reader of color supposed to know that? How does Cameron see Reader's blush if she has darker skin?

As writers, we don't know who is reading. Someone could be very pale or very dark. A person with medium-toned skin can turn a shade of pink or red. A person with darker-toned skin will not. We can't assume all readers are medium to pale. We need to develop better writing skills. We have to include everyone.

Readers of color > White-writer feelings

When I stood my ground, she doubled down, stating I made no sense in my tagging and that I lacked the ability to learn from her. She then diverted the argument, attacking a ficlet I wrote a few days beforehand—which had nothing to do with this argument. The Christian imagery in that ficlet was upsetting to her and "in such poor taste" because she headcanons Flip Zimmerman (BlacKkKlansman) is 100% culturally and ethnically Jewish.

Flip stated in the movie:

"I'm Jewish, but I wasn't raised to be. It wasn't part of my life. I never thought much about being Jewish. Nobody around me was Jewish. I wasn't going to a bunch of Bar Mitzvahs. I didn't have a Bar Mitzvah. I was just another white kid. And now I'm in some basement denying it out loud[...] I never thought much about it. Now I'm thinking about it all the time. About rituals and heritage. Is that passing? Well then, I have been passing."

By his own admission, Flip is ethnically Jewish, but not culturally. These are two separate things, and that should be recognized. While Judaism is ethnically and culturally entwined in ways that other religions are not, one does not equate the other. You can be one and not the other.

At the time, I didn't want her to sic her 3000+ followers on me. I wasn't going to argue further. I asked myself if the ficlet was important and worth anon-hate and realized, no, it wasn't. It was a throw-away.

And since I'm not culturally Jewish, maybe I had misstepped. And since Zannah is both culturally and ethnically Jewish, I asked for her guidance.

She flatly refused my request. I don't know how I was supposed to learn from her if she wouldn't teach me.

It sounded as if she wanted me to delete the whole fic. Like none of it was worth saving because it hadn't been Zannah-approved. I had gone against her headcanon, and the fic was too offensive to fix.

The last sentence was supposed to cover her back from criticism, and it placed all the responsibility on me. Obviously, she was above such petty concerns as someone else's blog or writing. Never mind that she had just attempted to get me to change my tagging system and rewrite my ficlet. On my blog.

Later, I figured out she was only criticizing and not offering a constructive critique. Her argument was not in good faith. It was retaliation for not giving her the obedience she thought she was owed.

This is the passage that offended her:

"It’s because of the way he fucks you. Like it’s confession—though he’s never been much of a church-going man. Every touch, every thrust, is a truth between you. Even when it’s rough and greedy. It feels like flagellation when you claw his back. He wears the sin proudly."

This is what I edited it to:

"It’s because of the way he fucks you. Every touch, every thrust, is a truth between you. Even when it’s rough and greedy. It feels like flagellation when you claw his back. He wears your marks proudly."

Yeah, I'm not pleased with the revised passage. It's lost its teeth, but I keep it.

The anonymous message(s) she mentioned weren't very anonymous, either. Unfortunately, I've since deleted the two messages. I had apologized to Anon for disappointing them. I said that if the fic was too much, they should unfollow and block me. I meant that in a self-care way. At the same time, I did not—and do not—owe anyone discourse. I don't have to explain my art when it doesn't hurt anyone. And no one was hurt by some purportedly misplaced religious imagery.

I have been silent about this since late January/early February. I was embarrassed. I had been bullied into changing my blog and my fic by someone who proclaims to never do anything of the sort. I had been a fool. Since this conversation with her, I have been blocked/blacklisted by third-parties, most likely at her behest, when none of this exchange had been necessary.

-

Kassanovella - @kylorengarbagedump​​

Zannah's followers have asked her about Kassanovella’s Fix Your Attitude. For context, it's currently one of the most kudo-ed fics for Kylo Ren x Reader on AO3. It had a bit of a renaissance earlier in 2020 because a TikToker wrote a song for it.

There is nothing wrong with not wanting to read a fic. If the subject matter doesn't work for a reader, they don't have to partake. Easy as that. So, these tags aren't a problem.

However, it led to this...

She lashed out, calling Kassanovella's fic a joke. A joke.

She implied her fics should be as popular as Kassanovella's because she works really hard on them. She admitted she's tied to the metrics. She implied she wouldn't be writing fic if not for the external validation.

Here's the thing about fanfic: readers like what they like. They don't care about a writer's effort. They only know what works for them. They comment and give kudos, reblog and like what they connect with. That is not under the writer's control. All a writer can do is try their best and concentrate on what they're passionate about.

To bash another writer's fic because it's popular is disrespectful. This whole bitter rant drips of entitlement and is an affront to Kassanovella.

Some time later, an incident happened in a chatroom during a streaming event for veterans by Arts In the Armed Forces (Adam Driver's organization). At least one fan brought up Fix Your Attitude while waiting for Mr. Driver to make an appearance. They were also disrespectful towards the other presenters by demanding to see Mr. Driver. It caused a big stink within the fandom, and Zannah had some choice words.

While mentioning the fic during the livestream was inappropriate, it was also inappropriate to throw all fans of the fic under the bus as she did in her tag. Sweeping generalizations and incriminations of a subset of fans certainly reads as if she resents those fans for a perceived slight.

Next, Zannah made an earlier disparaging comment about Kassanovella's fic, Little Bird. Unfortunately, that comment is lost. However, the messages supporting the comment remain. (For context, Little Bird is a Kylo Ren x Reader The Handmaid's Tale AU. It has been well received in the fandom, earning thousands of kudos on AO3.)

What an author wants to write about and sexualize is their business. Fantasizing about being dominated by Kylo Ren isn't cringe. It's a sexual fantasy. Some sexual fantasies can be disturbing to those who do not share the same kink.

Sexual fantasies are like ice cream. There's a reason why there are different flavors.

Also, "I will never ever be a person that tells an author what to do or not do" is an absolute lie. As evident in this post, Zannah most definitely tells authors what to do or not do.

Again, she bashes Kassanovella, claiming her writing isn't good. Her motivation for bashing Kassanovella can only be speculation. With Zannah's previously stated opinion of Fix Your Attitude, though, it indicates a certain level of negative emotions.

-

Anonymous

An anonymous person came forward with a case of Zannah policing their blog. Anon has a sideblog for their personal AU with Flip Zimmerman. They reblog gifsets and post headcanons. They were an enthusiastic fan of Zannah's and reblogged a few of the gifset she made. Anon tagged their reactions, and Zannah blocked them for it.

Anon went to Zannah and asked why they were blocked, because all they wanted to do was have fun and support fellow Flip lovers.

Anon was under the impression that because they were shipping themselves, and not Zannah, with Flip, she blocked them. Their personal AU doesn't align with Zannah's headcanon that she alone is married to this character and has his children.

While Zannah's reply may sound innocent, and perhaps it is, it also speaks to someone who has set herself up as the owner of Flip Zimmerman. (Wait until Spike Lee or the real Ron Stallworth hears about that...) It appears that if a fan does not comply with the Zannah-approved headcanon, where only she is married to Flip, that fan shall be blocked. If a fan uses tags on their blog that she does not approve of, that fan will be blocked.

Zannah's policing is disturbing. Going into a blog to look for something as a reason to block is disturbing. Any fan is allowed to use any tag on their blog how they wish. If the OP has said their post can be reblogged, how a reblogger tags is beyond the OP's control. To punish that reblogger for not behaving in a way she finds acceptable is uncalled for and unjust.

-

Anonymous

Backstory: Zannah does not view Ben Solo's arc in the Star Wars sequel trilogy as acceptable canon. However, she does view the story she created for Flip Zimmerman in BlacKkKlansman as completely canon.

This is not the first time she has been asked to clarify her position. Nor is it the first time she has avoided giving an on-topic response. A question asked in good faith should be responded to in kind.

If a creator doesn't want to address the issue, they can state that they don't. Deflecting from the question only muddies the waters. Fans feel dismissed. The creator feels hounded, and comes across as irritated and unapproachable. No one has a positive fandom experience.

There is nothing wrong with having a headcanon. What is wrong is Zannah mandating her headcanon for Flip on the whole fandom. As evident in this post, if a fan does not comply with her headcanon, they will be summarily blocked.

Also, there is nothing wrong with rejecting canon. Writers of transformative works have always done this. The problem is shaming fans who have accepted canon while not offering justification for that shaming. A creator saying they "can't help them" is the creator washing their hands of responsibility from articulating their thoughts when they themselves began criticizing the canon in the first place.

Again, this is a bad-faith argument. Creators can't ask for discussion and attention and then get mad when their viewpoints are challenged. Just because a discussion isn't going a creator's way doesn't mean it's an attack, either. It means people want clarification, and if one criticizes, they should be able to back up their criticisms.

-

While sharing our stories has been freeing, it's not our aim as fellow fans to cancel Zannah. We would hope she would take the opportunity to reflect on the damage she has done to the fandom. We hope we all can move forward with a more approachable and supportive scene.

No one person speaks for our fandom. The actions of one fan do not represent the entire fandom. Whether creator or consumer, you are welcome here.

[posted July 25, 2020]

#babbushka #reader insert #flip zimmerman x reader #kylo ren x reader

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Derek Morgan x Reader

Request: You live in the small town where the team is called to a case and because it’s such a small town, there are no hotels and the team bunkers at your home, which leads to your parents finding out about you and Derek are dating. 

// Anon request:  Hi I was wondering if you could do a Derek Morgan x reader. Where the reader comes form a very small town where the team goes on a case (readers dad is the sheriff) Emphasis on the small town, there’s no hotels, so the team stays at readers childhood home. The readers parents find out that she’s dating Morgan and are mad (small town mind) and just kind of angsty for awhile because she vowed not to speak to her parents until they apologized.  ///

A/N: I don’t know if there was enough angst like you wanted, but I hope you like it! Thank you for requesting. :) xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

I am currently taking requests for:

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Supernatural: (I’m only up to season 2 at the moment, so please don’t give requests with spoilers)***

Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester

Outer Banks (Netflix): 

 John B Routledge 

JJ Maybank 

Rafe Cameron 

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNER (why is there so few gifs of derek morgan ugh) 

You and the BAU team were currently on the jet on your way to a case. Your hometown to be specific. You were surprised when JJ entered the briefing room about a case in your hometown. Your father, being the sheriff was the one who called the BAU to come in. You didn’t even know these things had been happening back home. As soon as the briefing was over, you called your father, wondering why he never told you and his answer was that he didn’t want to bother you out in that big city with your new fancy job. 

To say the least, your parents were upset you decided to move to Washington, D.C to pursue a career with the FBI. They’d expected you to stay in your small hometown, continuing with the family business. However, that was never your plan and as soon as you were 18, you gathered your things and headed for D.C. Knowing how they felt about you leaving for the big city and away from small town living, you didn’t tell them about your new love interest, Derek Morgan. You knew it would only fuel the fire. 

So, as you sat next to Derek on the jet you warned him. “I haven’t told my parents about us yet.” He looked up at you, surprised. His family knew all about you, you’d flew to Chicago with him multiple times to visit them and they’d welcomed you with open arms. “Why not? y/n we’ve been dating for over 6 months now.” 

Your attention goes to the case file in your hand, “I just haven’t.” You sigh and then turn your attention back to him, “They aren’t like your family, Derek… they wanted me to marry someone I went to high school with and stay in the same city the rest of my life, living and working just like they did. I went against their wishes and they’ve never really forgave me for it. So, to find out I met someone in the city, someone from Chicago and not from my little town, will throw them into a hissy fit.” 

Derek was a little upset you’d kept him a secret for this long, considering he told his mother about you the day he’d set eyes on you. He’d told her, “Momma, that’s the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He knew he couldn’t be upset with you though. Your family was different than his and it wasn’t your fault. He reaches over and takes your hand in his, “Then we’ll tell them when you’re ready. Okay?” 

You smile, grateful, “Thank you.” Leaning over you press a soft kiss to his lips before turning your attention back to the case file. Before the jet landed, you and Derek spoke to the team about your relationship, asking them to please not mention your relationship to your family and they agreed, no one would speak a word. Knowing it was a small town and there were no hotels nearby, your father offered the house when you spoke to him. The team would fit comfortably in your family’s large farmhouse and it would be no trouble.You and the team headed to your home first to drop off your things before heading out to the small station on main street. 

Your mother was all smiles as she greeted you all at the door, “Welcome! Welcome! Please come in.” 

“Hi, mama.” You say, dropping your bags and giving her a hug.

She squeezed you tight in return, “Been a while, sweet girl.” She pulls back, hands on your shoulders as she gives you a look over, “I see you’ve put on a little weight! And you’ve dyed your hair,” She flicks at your hair on your shoulder. There’s an awkward silence among the team as they send glances at each other. That was not the way they expected your mother to be. 

Derek was quick to your rescue, holding out his hand to your mother, “Derek Morgan, ma’am. Thank you for hosting us. Your home is beautiful.” He gives her his one and only smile. 

Your mother nods, shaking his hand, “It will be nice to have folks around. All my babies have flew the coop!”

 The rest of the team introduce themselves and then your mother shows everyone to their rooms. You were staying in your old room, which your mother never redecorated. Spencer and Derek were in one room, just across from yours, Rossi and Hotch in another and Emily and JJ in the one next to yours. Your mother headed back downstairs to continue her work in the garden, while everyone decided they’d change out of their nice slacks and into more comfortable attire for this small town.

Derek came up behind you as you stood at your bed, pulling out an outfit and wrapped his arms around your waist, his head rested on your shoulder, whispering, “The pink ponies are just adorable..”

You groan, your head falling back against his chest, hands on his forearms, “I mean, she didn’t even bother to change my room after I left.”

 Derek laughs in your ear, “You know, I’m right across the hall from you. I can sneak into your room tonight..” He presses a kiss on the spot under your ear, slowly swaying you side to side.

 You turn around to face him, his arms still wrapped around you, “Sounds tempting but... My dad sleeps light.” 

He nods, “Then we’ll just have to be quiet.” He whispers against your lips before kissing you.

 ~

 After a long day, Hotch ended the day early so you guys could get some good rest and get started early tomorrow morning. When you arrived back at your house, your mother already had the table set and food on the table. Everyone was starving at the sight, realizing none of you had time to have lunch today. 

“Looks great mama.” You say, taking a seat. Your eyes meet Derek’s and you pat the seat next to you. He takes the seat next to you, unfolding his napkin and putting it in his lap. Everyone else takes their seat at the table and begin fixing your plates. Your mom hands Derek green beans (obviously I don’t know if he likes them or not) and begins to put a spoonful on his plate before you stop her, “He doesn’t like green beans mama.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She pulls her hand back and then hands you the bowl, “You guys must all be pretty close?” She asks as she takes her seat. 

“We see each other as family, Mrs. y/l/n.” Hotch says, “We’re all close, more family than co-workers.” 

She nods, “Well, that’s wonderful.” She can’t help but eye you and Derek throughout dinner. You thought you had been subtle but obviously not. Your mother saw the lingering glances and winks, even the hand holding under the table. She could not help but feel disgusted. You with a city boy and not someone you grew up around, someone she knew well. She didn’t want to make a scene at the dinner table, but as soon as everyone was finished, she pulled you and your father into the kitchen to help clean up. 

“You and that…. That man, Derrien? Is that his name?” Your mother begins. “His name is Derek. And what about me and him?” You ask, not realizing she’d seen everything. You place the dishes in the sink. 

“Derek. Whatever. Are you two together?” 

You slowly place the last plate in the sink, “Why would you ask that?” 

Your dad looks confused and looks at your mother before she quickly spits out, “I saw the glances at each other and the winks and not to mention the hand holding underneath my table!” 

“Oh mama, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” You sigh, turning around to face her.

 “Don’t you dare lie to me, young woman.” She tosses the towel on the counter before putting her hands on her hips. Your dad stands next to your mother, “Tell your mother the truth. Are you and that city boy dating?” 

Your face is red with anger, “that city boy’s name is Derek, daddy. What does it matter if he’s a city boy?” You snap, eyes narrowed at both.

“You watch that tone young lady.” He warns. 

“I cannot believe you!” Your mother huffs, shaking her head, “First you leave us high and dry for that big city and now you find you a big shot city boy?! There are plenty of eligible men in this town for you! One’s you’ve grown up with!” 

“That’s exactly why I don’t want to be with them! All of them are assholes, who don’t know how to treat a woman and think all women belong in the kitchen, waiting on them hand and foot. I didn’t want that life. I wanted my own life, not one you and daddy wanted me to have.” 

“Don’t you dare talk to your mother like that,” You father states, pointing a finger at you, as if you were a teenager. 

You shake your head, “I can’t believe you two. This is the exact reason I left this place the first chance I got. I’m not your little girl that you can control anymore. I am a grown ass woman. I’m happy. Derek makes me happy. Why can’t that be enough for you two?” Your eyes begin to fill with tears, “We’re solving this case and will be leaving as soon as we do. This will be the last time I come home. Not unless you two apologize and realize I’m a grown woman, not your little girl.” You then storm out of the kitchen and into the dining room, where the rest of the team sat. They’d heard the whole thing. You were humiliated that your boss and team members, including your boyfriend had heard everything. You quickly wipe the tears rolling down your cheeks, “I’m sorry you had to hear that.” and storm out of the room. 

Derek is quick to reach out for you from his seat at the table, “Y/n…” But you’d already zoomed passed him and out the door.

 ~

 There was not any place to go, but you decided your old spot in the barn would be a fine place. You sat yourself on the haystack and begin sobbing. This was what you were afraid of. Your parents being jerks, as usual.

 ~

After you stormed out the door, Derek stood from his place at the table and was about to follow you out, when your parents entered the dining room. “My own family treats your daughter better than you. That is something you should be ashamed of.” He shakes his head and throws his napkin on the table before heading out after you.

 ~ 

He watches your shoulders shake with sobs as he walks up to you, “Baby girl…” His nickname he only called Penelope. Until you came along. You and Penelope were his girls. 

You wiped your eyes with your sleeves, “Derek..” 

He shakes his head, taking a seat next to you, “Don’t you dare apologize. I’m so proud of you.” His finger hooks under your chin to make you look at him, “You are strong and so independent. That’s what I love about you.” 

You sniffle, “I’m still going to apologize for my parents. They think there’s no other men out there except for the ones in this small town.” 

Derek shakes his head, “It’s okay.” His thumb wipes a stray tear, “You handled that situation very well. Hotch was impressed.” 

“I can’t wait to solve this case and go home.” You groan, laying your head on his shoulder. 

He kisses the top of your head, rubbing your back, “Me too, baby girl. But you know you shouldn’t leave your family like this.”

 “I am not forgiving them.” You say, pulling from his shoulder to look at him, “Not after what they said about you and how they’ve treated me.” 

He nods, “I understand that, but baby girl. I lost my dad and I know how it is to lose someone with unresolved issues. It eats at you like wildfire.”

 “Unless they apologize first, I am not forgiving them.” Your voice is stern and Derek knows, you’re stubborn. There’s no need to fight this. 

Finally, he sighs, “Okay. Well this hay is poking at my rear; can we please go in?” 

You laugh and nod, “yes we can.” 

~

 The next few days were filled with tension, at home and at the station. You didn’t speak a word to your mom or dad, ignoring them completely. They didn’t speak to you either. After 3 long days the case was solved, and it was time to go home. 

Derek followed you down the stairs, y’all’s bags in his hands. Your parents were standing at the door, bidding goodbye to the team. You gave a small nod, before walking out the door. 

“Wait, y/n?”  Your mother stops you on the porch.

 “I’ll be in the car.” Derek says, beginning to walk passed you, but your mom stops him as well. Your dad steps beside your mother, hand on her lower back, “I believe we owe both of you apologies.” 

You glance at Derek then at them, “Okay.” 

Your mother nods, “We should have never been so strict on you… and expected you to follow in our footsteps. It was wrong of us to put that on you.”

 “It was. You made my life a living hell.” 

Your mother sadly nods, “I know that now. I’m so very sorry. We both are.” She glances at your father who holds his hand out to Derek, “I can see the happiness you bring my daughter. Seeing you two the few days in the station working the case and here at home, there’s a brightness in my daughter I haven’t seen before.”

 Derek gives him a firm handshake, “Your daughter makes me the happiest guy in the world. Even on our worst days.”

 Your father nods, “That’s all me and her mother could have hoped for.”  Your mother puts her hand on your arm, “Please come back and visit? We sure miss you..” 

“Maybe you guys come visit me this time?” You ask. Your mother sighs and nods, “Fine.” She engulfs you in a hug, “I love you sweetie. And I am sorry again.”

 “I love you too.” You pull away from her hug and hug your dad.

 “I’m very proud of your work, darling. You picked the right career.” Your father smiles, “Proud of both of y’alls work.” He says looking at Derek. 

“Well.. we better get going. We have a jet to catch.” You say pulling away from them. You two bid goodbye and head to the SUV where the rest of the team waits.

 ~

 Sitting next to Derek on the jet’s couch, you motion to his bookbag in his lap that he was going through. 

“What?” He asks. 

You motion again to the bookbag, “Move.”

 “Oh,” he chuckles, moving it from his lap and putting the small pillow on his lap, “Come here.” He holds his arm out for you and you lay your head in his lap. His hands immediately go to your hair and begin massaging your scalp.

You hum and close your eyes, “I love you, Derek Morgan.” 

“I love you, too.” 

#derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan imagines #derek morgan fanfiction #x reader #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #CRIMINAL MINDS FANDOM #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #imagines #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x y/n #Derek Morgan x reader #x you #x y/n

[lightininglydia]

We’re the same you know- T.T

Pairings: John B x Reader, Topper Thornton x reader

Warnings: cheating, mentions of sex, swearing

I hope you enjoy reading this :)

You smiled as you happily skipped over to the chateau with a few bags in your hands. You hadn’t seen your boyfriend in a few days due to your busy work schedule but today you both finally had the day off. There was supposed to be a party tonight that the two of you were going to meet at but you figured you'd surprise your boyfriend earlier so you could spend some quality time together.

You had bought yours and John B’s favourite take out food and a few of John B's favourite films, having a cute little day planned out for the two of you. You had definitely been longing to spend some alone time with him and figured today would be the perfect day to do so.... Pope and JJ were hopefully busy and Kiara was working all day so you knew there would be little to no disruptions to your perfectly planned day.

You walked into the chateau and called out your boyfriends name but didn't get a reply. You looked outside and saw the HMS Pogue and the Twinkie so he couldn't possibly be out with the boys. This caused a small frown to settle on your face. you shook your head slightly and made your way to his room. Your heart swelled when you saw him fast asleep but quickly broke when you noticed what was next to him.... a mop of blonde hair you knew all too well.

Sarah Cameron.

" What the FUCK " you yelled causing both John B and Sarah to shoot up out of bed and look at you, the two of them barely in any clothing and marks spread across their bodies, giving away what they had just done. John B's face softened when he saw yours and he jumped up and quickly began explaining it to you.

" it just happened " and " I'm so sorry baby " but you couldn't even really hear what he was saying. Everything was in slow motion just like in the movies as you tried pushing him away from you, tears falling down your face as you pushed past him, desperately trying to get out of the chateau and as far away from him and Sarah as possible.

Once you were out you were met with Pope and JJ, their faces quickly showing a look of concern as they rushed over to you but you pushed them back not trusting anything or anyone.

" did you know " your voice broke as you prayed the answer was no but by the looks on their faces they did.... they knew

" does Kie know? " and they shook their heads no which made you let out a sigh of relief

" I caught them the other day.... I knew I couldn't tell Kie or she'd tell you " JJ mumbled

" so what? You were just going to cover for John b JJ? For how long? How long were you going to fucking LIE to me " you shouted at him but you instantly felt bad. This wasn’t his fault.

" I'm sorry I shouldn't have yelled... I'm sorry " you quickly apologized knowing he gets enough of that when he's at home but JJ shook his head

" no... I deserve it " he mumbled and your heart clenched... how did you end up feeling like a monster in this situation?

" no JJ you don't.... John B's your best friend. This is on him not you and I shouldn't have yelled no matter how angry I am " your voice was soft as you spoke to JJ.

While what JJ did was fucked up you never wanted to hurt him or make him feel like he wasn’t worth it or like he deserved all the pain he experienced because he didn’t.

" I'm sorry (Y/N) JJ is John B's best friend but I'm not... I have no excuse as to why I didn't tell you. I guess I just wanted to protect him " Pope whispered feeling guilty

" protect him? What about me? Your best friend.... if it was you getting cheated on....I would have told you " you said to Pope but directing it at both boys

You said nothing else to the two boys as you got into your car. You drove straight to the wreck ignoring the calls from John B. You knew Kiara was working today and to be honest all you wanted was to see her, hoping she could provide you a sense of comfort and happiness. You knew how much she hated Sarah Cameron so hopefully she'd be equally as pissed as you at John B and the guys.

You parked your car and made your way inside, sitting at your usual table. Kie saw you almost immediately and smiled but her face dropped when she saw your state. She turned to her dad and pointed at you probably explaining something was wrong and that she needed to take a break.

He just nodded and offered you a small smiled. He hated the boys, thought they were dirty and troublesome but both him and Mrs. C loved you. You knew you were always welcome at their house and if you didn't already have a job as a cart girl at the country club you would have been offered a job here.

" What happened " Kie asked as she placed a large plate of fries on the table along with two glasses of soda. You smiled softly at her actions and looked up at her as she sat down across from you. Your small smile quickly faltered as you knew how hard this was going to be. She hated Sarah.... and everyone knew that especially John B. This betrayal would hit her too and you knew it.

" You're going to hate this " you mumbled as you tried to prepare the girl, she nodded and motioned for you to continue.

" I went to see John B today.... brought his favourite food and movies hoping to have a couple-y day but when I found him he was in bed.... with Sarah Cameron. I guess they've been sleeping around for a while and the guys knew " your voice broke again as you looked down at your hands trying to somewhat hold it together.

" What? " she asked in disbelief feeling like she didn’t quite hear you right

" yeah " you laughed bitterly as tears flowed down your face

" (Y/N) I'm so sorry " she whispered as she reached across the table and took your hand in hers. You just nodded as you tried not to cry any harder, this was embarrassing enough you didn’t need to be sobbing at the wreck.

" The worst part is he didn't even sound sorry as he listed his excuses.... he almost sounded relieved that I caught him.... relieved that he no longer had to lie to me and pretend that he loved me “

" Pope and JJ knew? JJ is expected but Pope? How could he do that to you? And why didn't they tell me? " she asked feeling confused by the situation at hand

" Pope said he didn't have an excuse... he just wanted to protect John B which is really fucking shitty because why did he need protecting? He was breaking MY heart and lying to me.... They didn't tell you because they knew you'd tell me " you answered

" Damn right " she muttered suddenly feeling very angry at her best friends

" I left the chateau and came straight here.... you're the only person I want to see for the rest of my life and our parents too but still " you said

" God I'm going to kill him! All of them actually... for him to cheat on you when you were the best girlfriend EVER with Sarah Cameron is the worst thing he could have ever done.... you're our best friend (Y/N) and I can't believe those two idiots knew and didn't say shit " Kie spat starting to get really angry

" I honestly don't even know how to feel about it.... I want to say I hate them I really do but I don't. I yelled at JJ and instantly felt horrible and apologized! At the end of the day Pope and JJ are still two of my best friends which really sucks because it doesn't seem like they feel the same way " you sighed as you looked down at the floor

" Well I do... you're my best friend (Y/N) out of all of them I would pick you every single time okay? If I would have known I probably would have beat John B up before coming to tell you " she said in a matter of fact tone which made you laugh

" You're my best friend too Kie.... I'd pick you every single time without a doubt... i'm gonna let you go back to work but you can come pick me up before the party later " you said to her

" wait you still wanna go? " she asked slightly confused as to why you would want to go to a party where John B would most definitely be at with Sarah on his arm.

" you've been looking forward to it for days and you can't go by yourself when you hate all your friends.... so I'm going to come with you and we can't hate all our friends together okay? "

" okay " she said as she let go of your hand and went back to work. You knew the fries and drinks were on the house but you never left the wreck without slipping at least a $20 to Mr. C who tried to refuse it every time but eventually caved.

So you made your way up to him and gave him the bill. He didn't protest as he saw the state you were in.

" You okay (Y/N) " he asked

" no.... teenage boys suck but I'll get over it eventually " you said weakly

He said nothing as he pulled you in for a hug. He considered you to be another daughter just like your parents did with Kie.

Mr. Carrera and your father had grown up on the cut together, they were best friends so naturally when they had daughters around the same time they decided that the two of you would also grow up together and be best friends.

You pulled away from the hug and gave him a smile and a wave as you made your way to your car. You drove home and went straight to your room ignoring the calls from your parents and cried.... you cried and cried and cried until you couldn’t cry anymore.

Thankfully you always had spoons in your freezer so when it was time to get ready you showered and then held two ice cold spoons under your eyes to depuff them. You didn’t need the whole island knowing you just had your heart ripped from your chest and stomped on.

You then put on your usual jean shorts and oversized Tshirt on, tucking the shirt into your shorts because it looked nicer in your opinion. You then added a few necklaces and let your now dry hair down.

Normally girls would go all out to try and show their ex what they were missing but you didn't have the energy to do that nor did you care that much about John B.... the moment you caught him was the moment he became dead to you, you had nothing to prove to him because he was no longer worth it.... especially because you had caught him with Sarah Cameron someone you had grown to hate over the years due to her constant attitude with you and Kie.

You heard a car honk from outside and you knew that was your que to leave. You said goodbye to your parents and made your way downstairs and out the door. You greeted Kiara with a smile and small hello as you got into her car.

The drive was short and before you knew it the two of you were pulling up to the party. You took a deep breath and tried to calm your nerves. You knew John B would be here with Sarah... Pope and JJ by his side as if his betrayal was nothing... as if you were nothing.

" we can turn around and have a girls night instead " Kie whispered as she turned to you

" no... it's okay " you stated and then got out of the car

Kie grabbed your hand in hers as the two of you walked to the beach.

" I'm scared " you said to her

" I'm scared too... "

" why are you scared? " you asked

" because I don't know what I'm going to do when I see John B parade around here with Sarah as if he didn't just absolutely break your heart like it was nothing.... it doesn't help dumb and dumber are going to be with him instead of us either " she said and you laughed

" I love you ya know "

" I love you too (Y/N) .... I'm gonna go get us drinks which you know they are probably in charge of so go sit over there " she said as she pointed towards a large open spot on the beach.

You just nodded and let go of her hand, both of you going opposite ways. You sighed as you sat in the sand feeling sad.

" mind if I sit next to you " a familiar voice asked from behind you

Topper.

" sure Top " you said using his nickname.

The two of you weren't friends but you also didn't play into the kooks vs Pogues with each other. Topper admired how cool and honest you were so he was always kind to you. That was something you appreciated. He respected you enough to leave the boys alone when you asked and even somehow got Rafe to back down from a few fights with JJ and in return you would defend him to your friends. The relationship you had with each other was odd and very unexpected.... a kook and a Pogue having a pretty high level of respect for one another was practically unheard of if you excused Kiara from her kook title.

" you okay? " he asked knowing all too well what you were feeling

" No... are you? "

" not really.... it just sucks that she cheated on me with a- " he stopped himself

" sorry " he apologized

" don't apologize.... there's a lot of mean shit I could say about kooks too right now " you laughed lightly trying to make him feel better about what he had just apologized for.

" You didn't deserve it.... you're so kind and caring John B didn't deserve you " he mumbled

" You didn't deserve it either.... yeah you kinda suck sometimes but you've always been nice to me and from what I saw you were pretty good to her too so Sarah didn't deserve you either " you said as you leaned your head on his shoulder

" Maybe they are perfect for each other then " he muttered as he turned his head, eyeing John B and Sarah.

" when did you find out " you asked him noticing he was sad but definitely not as sad as you which lead you to the conclusion he had found out before you and obviously not today

" Midsummers " he responded and you sat up faster than you ever had before suddenly feeling sick to your stomach, this made Topper look at you with concern written all over his face.

Midsummers was three weeks ago.

" I found out this afternoon " your voice broke as you realized just how long this was going on for and you couldn’t help but wonder how long it was going on for before midsummers.

" he promised.... he promised me he'd tell you " Topper whispered more to himself than you

" what? " you asked turning to look at him

" when I caught them... I lost it, yelled and screamed at them and then I said I was going to find you.... he stopped me and promised he'd tell you in the morning " Topper said in disbelief

" wait.... your first thought was to yell at them and then come and find me? Why? " you asked

" because I care about and respect you.... I admire how honest and cool you are if I'm being honest I like you and respect how you're always quick to call me and my friends out on my shit so yeah when I found out one of my first thoughts was to come find you " he mumbled as he looked down at the sand feeling slightly embarrassed by his own confession but it was true.

He cared about you.

" Thank you " you whispered to him really meaning it and feeling grateful at least someone who knew seemed to have your back.

" Topper? (Y/N) ? " Kie asked as she approached the two of you with drinks in her hand, confused as to why the blonde haired kook was siting next to you

" Kie I know you just got these but I need them both" you stated with a look of determination on your face. She didn't say anything as you stood up and took them from her hands and just watched as you marched over to John B and Sarah.

" (Y/N) - " Pope started but your harsh glare was quick to silence him. You tapped John B on the shoulder causing him and Sarah to turn around and before either of them could even register it was you the drinks ended up being thrown in their faces

" You're a real piece of shit John B.... Topper caught the two of you at midsummers? That was THREE weeks ago and god knows how long the two of you were sneaking around before that.... I was good to you! always so good to you and this is what I get in return? You promised him you were going to break up with me the next day but instead you decided to string me along? For what? Your own selfish enjoyment? For the thrill of sneaking around? " you spat and he was speechless so you turned to Sarah

" and you.... did you enjoy sneaking around behind my back? Stealing my boyfriend? Cheating on your own? I hope you guys are happy together because you truly deserve one another.... " you spat and then turned around storming off back towards where Topper and Kie sat

" sorry about the drinks " you mumbled as you sat next to Kiara

" don't be.... three weeks? That's fucking disgusting " Kiara scoffed feeling even angrier than she had before.

" I'm really sorry (Y/N) I thought you knew.... I swear to god I would have told you " Topper said, guilt laced in his voice.

" I know Top.... don't worry about it " you reassured him as you moved closer to him, resting your head back on his shoulder.

Being near him right now was oddly comforting.

" I don't think I want to be friends with John B anymore " Kie announced as she looked over at you and Topper

" are you sure Kie? " you asked

" yeah.... I love the carefree lifestyle of being his friend but he hurt you (Y/N) and he hurt me and it doesn't even seem like he cares " she mumbled as she looked down at the and you nodded as you realized just how much this was hurting her too.

" we don't need em.... we can live a mix of a kook and Pogue life just the two of us like it used to be " you said

" I mean.... I know we kinda suck but you could always hang out with the guys and I " Topper said which caused both you and Kie to snort

" Top... you and Kelce are fine but Rafe? He hates us" you laughed

" yeah... my bad but hey maybe we can change that " he laughed with you and you just smiled at him feeling grateful he was trying his best to make you feel better.

" (Y/N) can we talk " JJ asked as he approached the three of you. You looked over at Kie asking for her opinion and she just shrugged. You patted Topper on the leg before standing up and following JJ

" I didn't know it was that long " he mumbled

" I know " was all you said as you walked down the beach with him

" are we gonna be okay? " he asked feeling scared of your answer. He didn’t want to lose you

" eventually.... but things are never gonna be the same. I'm not gonna be around anymore and by the looks of it neither is Kie " you said

" I get it.... soooo you and Topper looked pretty cosy" JJ joked which caused you to roll your eyes and laugh

" I've always enjoyed Topper's company and I mean.... he gets it more than anyone else does so I guess having him as a friend won't be the worst thing ever " you mumbled

" I can't stand him but he's always been nice to you so there's no reason not to be his friend " JJ huffed still not liking the idea

" Where's Pope? " you asked as you scanned the crowd looking for him

" after you threw drinks in John B and Sarah's face and yelled at them he yelled at John B and then left.... he feels horrible " JJ sighed as the two of you turned around and began walking back towards Topper and Kie

" It's okay.... you've both been friends with John B longer and you didn't know how long it had been going on for " you stated simply

" I went after him but he said he needed space so I let him go.... I'm sure you can expect him at your door sometime tomorrow "

" I hope so because you and Pope are still my best friends despite all this shit "

" good.... I'm really sorry (Y/N) "

" it's alright JJ.... I'm not about to flush several years of friendship down the toilet over this. At least not with the two of you. In John B's case he'll be lucky if I ever even look at him again "

The two of you were now back in front of Topper and Kie. You gave JJ a hug and a quick goodbye before sitting back down next to Topper and then watched as he returned to where John B and Sarah stood, Sarah looked to be having a mini melt down as her makeup ran down her face. This caused you to laugh a little bit enjoying her current state.

" we're the same you know " Topper mumbled which caused you to look away from Sarah and over at him

" yeah but that's okay because we have each other. We'll get over this.... together " you smiled softly

" You're really pretty " Topper said suddenly which caused Kie to snort

" dude.... she's been single for like 6 hours I think you might wanna give it at LEAST a day or two before you make your move " Kie said while laughing which caused you to lean over and whack her arm.

" You're really pretty too Top " you giggled as you looked at him

He just rolled his eyes and leaned into you and you couldn’t help but feel as if this was the start of a beautiful friendship..... maybe even something more.

#topper thorton x reader #topper obx #topper #topper imagine #topper thornton #obx #obx fic #topper x reader #jj maybank #rafe cameron #sarah cameron #pope heyward #kiara carrera #john b outer banks #outer banks #topper thornton fanfic #topper fanfiction

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

C A L L  M E  C A T, chapter nine

January 2017

We had time off near the holidays, space for all of us was good. The rush of our record deal and newfound fame was suffocating in moments, exhilarating in others. 

Niall journeyed back to Ireland and Miles back up north to Massachusetts. Jules’ parents were only in Connecticut, and Harry had already made the trip back to the UK to see his family. 

By the time the New Year came, I was sick of being in Florida with no friends and minimal interaction from my parents. Our last night together as a band was the night of my drunken exit, something that we all knew was awkward and tense but didn’t dare to mention the next morning. 

Being around my parents made me drink less just because I feared becoming them. Which was probably good for both my liver and my mind, but bad for my emotional state. It had been a few weeks since I’d spoken to Miles or Harry. Jules would check in just to make sure I hadn’t murdered my parents yet, Niall sent pictures of his nephew and the pints he was drinking back home. 

I sat on the back patio a few days into 2017, sunglasses on to block the sun and hoping to get a bit of a glow on the unseasonably warm day. My phone buzzed beside me and pulled my attention back to the pool in front of me, my parents were both at work and I finally had a minute without them to gather my thoughts. 

Nothing about the sunshine state made me want to stay, especially not the locked door down the hall that had been untouched since 2011. The bed was likely unmade and I was sure dust had collected on the trophies that lined his shelves. 

I picked up my phone and read the message that had just come through, one that made me want to abandon my home state more than I already did. 

Harry Styles (1:03pm): Random question, are you still in Florida?

I looked around the backyard, boats buzzed by on the water and the waves glimmered in the sun.

Cat Fonder (1:04pm): Unfortunately

Harry Styles (1:04pm): Me too.

I pulled up the phone and read it twice before I pressed the phone icon near his name. It rang once before he answered. 

“Hi!”

“What are you doing in Florida?”

“Well--bit of an airline issue, so I ended up on a flight here instead of New York. I’m stuck here overnight.”

“That sucks,” I admitted, turning on my side on the pool lounge chair. “What are you going to do?”

“Well,” he took a pause, but I could tell he’d already decided. “You’re going to come get me at the airport.”

“What makes you think that?”

He laughed on the other end of the phone. “I mean, you wouldn’t let me sleep overnight in the Miami airport would you?” I let out a groan for him to hear, laughed a little when he threw in: “I know you have enough bedrooms at your parents house.”

Marta, our longtime housekeeper and an adopted member of our family, slid open the door to the living room. “Do you want lunch?”

“In a few!” I called back to her. “Harry--you can Uber here if you want.”

“Oh just come pick me up--how far do you live from the airport?”

“From Miami? Like an hour and a half!”

“Which is exactly why I’m not paying for an Uber, Catherine.”

I exhaled through my nose, licked at my lips, already regretting the decision to take one of my dad’s cars into a Miami afternoon. The air was sticky and the climb in my heartbeat made me feel stupid and childish. Harry’s chastising on the other end didn’t help. 

“Did you hang up on me? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Cause I’m trying to think of a plan to be in a car with you and not kill you.”

He let out a belly laugh at this, noise from the busy airport terminal was seeping through the speaker and into my ears. “I’ll make sure we don’t lay any hands on each other.”

Goosebumps rose on my skin, his voice almost melodic when he said see you soon!

I grabbed the keys and took a sandwich for the road from Marta, prayed to some type of higher power that I didn’t rear end someone or fuck up my dad’s Mercedes. He drove the Tesla to work, which was good, honestly, because I wouldn’t even know how to turn that one on. 

It took me only an hour and fifteen, which didn’t seem like a result of my timid driving but more the lack of traffic and time of day. When I rolled up to the baggage claim and saw him standing on the curb with sunglasses pushed up and a hood over his head, I rolled the window down. 

“How’s the disguise working?”

He made a face at me, stuffed his suitcase in the backseat and climbed in front. “You joke, but there were girls who literally cried when they saw me. And a few photographers, I think--which is really weird.”

“Really?” I looked over my shoulder and put on my blinker, hoping to merge effortlessly over three lanes to get out of the hellhole that was Miami International. 

“Yeah--don’t know why but people apparently like our band in Florida. Hometown pride, maybe.”

He had a point--apparently my name had been one of the most searched google phrases in the state at the end of 2016. But we weren’t really paparazzi level yet, once or twice in New York or LA when we’d do shows, but they’d yet to really follow us around.

“Okay, well you might have to be silent the rest of the ride if you want to get to Palm Beach in one piece.”

He turned towards me with an amused look. “Do you suck at driving?”

“No,” I said, looking over at him quickly, a car merged in front of me and made me swerve to the side a little bit when I took my eyes off the road. 

“Jesus fuck!” He laughed, “oh god--you would be absolutely rubbish at driving. This is actually extremely on brand for you.”

“I’m not rubbish at driving,” I twisted my face. “I’m just out of practice.”

We made it four miles away from the airport before he demanded that I get out and let him drive, arguing that even if the steering wheel was on the other side and we drove on the wrong side of the road, he’d be a safer bet. 

He got a coffee at a gas station and took a picture of me with the girl behind the register, more pleasant than I’d ever seen him be. He put the windows down and played me the songs he’d been listening to over the holidays and laughed when he pointed at my hands. “You got a manicure!”

I hid my face, embarrassed at the sellout I’d become. Thirteen whole days in town and my mother had convinced me to sit beside her, watch daytime talk shows while the spa ladies buffed and snipped our cuticles. 

She made me, I laughed. You might end up with one too before you leave.

We rolled up to Island Drive right before my parents got home from work and Harry leaned towards the window to get a better view of the house. His mouth hung open when we turned into the shrub-lined driveway. “Jesus, Cat. What do your parents do again?”

“Work too much,” I told him. “Mom’s a dentist and my dad’s a financial advisor. They’re super obnoxious so please try to interact with them at a minimum like Marta and I do.”

“Marta?”

“Housekeeper, my old nanny--she’s part of the family.”

He nodded, still taking in the fountain and manicured lawn when I pulled his suitcase from the backseat. Harry had known that my parents were wealthy--mainly from the time that Miles made me sound like an obnoxious rich kid when we wrote at their apartment. But Harry was apparently surprised by the level of wealth that was held in Palm Beach. His lips parted when I brought him in the front door, views of the water over the crest of the lawn and the pool, eyes landing on mine after a few seconds. 

“And you moved to New York, why?”

I kept my voice quiet, didn’t want Marta to hear my bluntness from the other room. “To get out of here.”

But soon she smiled and rushed over, eager to take Harry’s suitcase and bring it to the guest room. She offered him tea and coffee and all of the snacks that he joked he would have held out for if he knew she was here and waiting.

I brought him upstairs to show him the room he could sleep in, around the corner from mine, a view of the side yard and the gardens that a landscaping company tended to every Saturday morning. I laid the ground rules: no mentioning our partying, no mentioning times when I’ve been too drunk. If he wanted a free place to sleep with good food and a king-sized bed, he needed to keep his mouth shut about that stuff. 

He saluted me and stifled a laugh. “Yes ma’am.”

“I’m serious,” I told him. “Just be quiet, don’t give them a reason to ask you any questions.”

“Alright--I mean, come on, they can’t be that bad.”

As if on cue--as if Harry showing up in Florida wasn’t enough bad karma for one day--the alarm beeped downstairs letting me know one of them was home. Lorna first, she came in with big sunglasses and greeted Harry with a smile, her hand outstretched for her afternoon glass of Chardonnay before Marta could even hang her keys up by the door. 

Frank strolled in a little after six pm, dinner was almost ready when Harry excused himself to the bathroom and I took it as my opportunity to corner my mother before she was too drunk to remember it. 

I knocked on her office door twice, waited for her to look up from her computer before I took a few steps inside. “Hi, dear,” she said, a small smile before she looked back to the papers on her desk. 

“Hi--I just wanted to uh, ask you a favor, actually.” I approached her with my hands on my hips, unsure if I’d get her full attention or if I’d have to snap my fingers to get her eyes back on me. I sat down in the chair across from her, a formal chess move to let her know I was serious.

“What’s that?” She leaned back in her chair and waited for me to spit it out. Her direct eye contact made me nervous, I stammered over my words and tried to sway her by bringing my dad into it. 

“I, uh, just asked dad the same thing--he said it was fine.”

“Just spit it out, Catherine.”

“Can we not talk about Cameron in front of Harry?”

She set down her glasses at this, watched me for a second before she tilted her head to the side. “Okay.”

“Like, at all. Okay? Not even once.”

She sighed, almost as if my request was painful for her to consider. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

Maybe she’d tone it down with a stranger in the house. Maybe not talking about Cameron for someone else’s benefit would make her respect the limit more than she had in the past. 

I had hoped for so long that one day it’d stop, one day she’d forget his name or leave it out of conversation even if just for my sake. But my mother was too selfish for that--always forgetting that while she was grieving a son, I was grieving my other half. 

I should have known she couldn’t help herself--she had to relive the moment over and over, desperate to keep herself alive in the past as if it was safer than the present. His name slipped  out of her mouth like she didn’t even realize it, I nearly choked on my asparagus at the dinner table when she said it.

Harry was busy making small talk about our upcoming album, the studio sessions we’d be heading into once we flew back to the city. “Our manager said it’ll be good timing to release an album, makes us eligible for award season the following year.”

She pretended to be interested, pretended to care for a second about our careers, but then she did it. “Reminds me of the time Cameron won that award--”

“Mom,” I said it quick, my hands falling to the table with a thud, fork and knife in my grasp when I cut her off. “Don’t.”

The noise startled Harry, but the genuine smile on his face only faltered a little. “No, I’d love to hear the story,” he didn’t even have a clue to the fire he was igniting.

“We talked about it mom,” I gave her a death glare--which I could tell threw her off. She was frozen, torn between pleasing her dinner guest and pissing off her daughter, two of her favorite past times. 

She gestured at Harry. “Well I don’t want to be rude, Catherine.”

“Dad,” I looked over to see him on his phone, my voice pleading for him to intervene. 

“Lorna, leave it alone,” he said, disinterested, phone screen still lit up like he was begging for a distraction. 

“Oh,” she sighed, sarcasm threaded in her words. “Right--we don’t go there.”

Harry was across from me, mid-bite of his steak. He looked from me and to my mom, then back, while he chewed. He had no clue what was happening but he could tell he’d said the wrong thing. 

My mom picked up her wine glass, brought it to her lips and offered a sweet smile in Harry’s direction. “Nevermind, dear--don’t want to upset Catherine.” 

I rolled my eyes and stood from the table, “Harry, do you want to go for a walk?” 

He was caught off guard, still uncomfortably in the middle when he nodded quickly, stood from the table and thanked both of my parents for letting him stay the night as I headed for the front door. He hurried out behind me, his voice barely a whisper in the hallway. “Did I do that? Did I fuck up?”

“No,” I said, calling to Marta over my shoulder. “Dinner was delicious, Marta! We’ll be back!”

“What even happened in there?” He asked, still a few steps behind me once we walked out onto the moonlit driveway. 

I stopped short and turned around, the anger in my chest was threatening to spill out and onto the concrete. “Nothing--my mother is just fucking stupid and selfish.”

“So the intimidating level of rage coming off of you is not my fault?”

“What? No.”

I spun around again and headed for the street, a left turn towards the familiar route that I’d escape to when something like this happened. He walked beside me on the tree-line street, silent and steady until the neighborhood opened up. The same empty field at the end of the road that gave access to the lagoon, the same location I’d come to so many times after storming away from dinner as a kid. Doing it at 22 felt no different than at 15.

He shoved his hands in his pockets when we stepped onto the grass. “What is this place?”

“I don’t know--an empty field at the end of my street.”

“Is this your ponder spot?”

I looked over my shoulder, his face was lit up by the glow of the streetlights. “Ponder spot?”

He nodded and offered a shrug, “you know, the place you run off to when you need space.”

I bit back a laugh, embarrassed that his words couldn’t have been more accurate. He took my silence as confirmation, followed me over to a picnic table that sat close to the end of the water.

I threw a leg over the bench and let my head rest on top, a groan escaping my lips once I felt his weight shift the structure. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head but didn’t lift it, so he let me sit in silence for a little while. A breeze blew my hair around and after a few minutes, he sighed, like he already knew the answer but wanted to ask anyway. “Do you want to tell me who Cameron is?”

That got me to raise my head. “Definitely not.”

He smirked a little, a tiny nod as if to tell me he wouldn’t push it. He reached a hand over and patted my thigh, chin in his hand as he watched people cruise by on their boats. 

For the first time I felt comfortable with him--not pressured or panicked. He brought his eyes over to me and then fished into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a small joint, a dimple appeared on his cheek when he said: “I found this in the guest room.”

“Shut up,” I laughed, pulling it from him and sniffing it to inspect. “Did you really?”

He nodded, “which one of your parents is the stoner?”

“Well my mom is too high strung, so--must be Frank.”

He pulled out a lighter and held it up, watched when I placed it between my lips and then inhaled. I passed it over to him, thankful for a buffer between us now aside from the moon and the breeze. 

Smoke escaped my lips and floated towards the stars, he drummed his fingers on the table before I passed it to him. “Do you feel overwhelmed ever?”

“Ever?” He laughed at my question, licked his lips and then looked out over the water. 

“I mean by the music stuff lately.”

He shrugged. “Excited mostly. Why? Do you?”

I nodded, unafraid to admit that being home brought a different layer of complexity to life. “My parents will just never get it.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not successful.”

I looked down at the faded wood and the fresh coat of polish on my nails. “It kind of feels that way, though--you know, if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, did it really happen?”

He stared at me for a second, sure that I was joking. “You’re mental,” he said. “The tree is down on the ground, of course it fell. Who fucking cares if they were around to hear it or not?”

I nodded, took the joint back from him and took another inhale, reminded of the first time we did this type of thing. 

He passed it to me, watched as I let smoke dance through the chilly air before he asked: “Why do you go by Cat?”

Another shrug, how I answered most questions these days. Do you have nightmares about it? Do you think about him all the time? Do you feel easily agitated? 

“Just don’t like Catherine. Too formal.”

I didn’t want to get into it. My mother calls me that, my brother called me that, all good reasons to pack up and leave behind in the childhood bedroom that held bad memories.

“I like Catherine,” he admitted. “S’pretty.”

I let my eyes sweep over to him, the moon reflected in his eyes, curls of hair poked out from the beanie on his head. “Just--don’t call me that, please.”

He laughed, completely unaware of the way it made my chest heave in the shower or the way it sent a shiver down my spine when my mom had to cut herself off--Catherine and Cameron--no, just Catherine. 

I had to correct her now too. Catherine felt like it needed to be followed by something, another name, the one that had been linked to mine since birth, born two minutes apart. 

“I think you’re pretty fucking successful, you know.”

I glanced over at him. “Yeah?”

A single nod. His short hair was still something to get used to, it bent in the wind and blocked his eyes when he turned to look at me. “I will never admit I said this, but, we’d be nothing without you.”

“Well, we only got big once you came along.”

He smirked, “so you’re aware of that?”

I gave him a shove, shaking my head at his stupid ego. His eyes lingered on mine for a second, his knee knocked against mine when he flicked the joint and then he let out a sigh. 

I wanted to lean in and kiss him, and I probably would have if it weren’t for Lila. As far as I knew she was home in New York, maybe in Jersey with her parents or siblings, but certainly an obstacle to whatever kind of intoxicated hook up could have happened between us.

I cleared my throat and looked up at the sky. “Do you want to go write a song?”

He smiled, a soft one, nodded a few times and patted me on the thigh again before he stood up and offered me a hand. “I’d love to.”

He followed me back to the house, up the stairs to my bedroom and stared at the ceiling while I plucked at the guitar. 

I don’t know where I wanna go,

But it’s far away from here

Don’t know what I’m running from

If it’s you or me, my dear

He watched, listened, nodded along while it poured out of me, more of a witness than a participant. 

It’s good, Cat, he said, keep going.

Everybody’s talking now

But no one seems to say  a thing

I do my best to drown them out

I just wish that I could be

Somewhere far away from here

Back to myself, back where I could see clear

Somewhere far away from here

Won’t somebody take me far away from here?

Sleep was heavy on my eyelids, Harry down the hall and a rough version already sent off in an email to Niall before I realized he’d said it. Four and a half years of begging him to say it, call me Cat, hoping one day he’d just give in and go along with it. All this time I thought fighting him and pushing him away would make it happen. 

It was fitting, I guess, that it was the exact opposite that finally got me what I wanted. 

**

Niall was excited that Harry had accidentally landed himself in Miami, and he was even more excited when he learned that I told him he could stay with me an extra few days before I was due to return to Manhattan and the responsibilities of work. 

He was eager to see my town, made me drive him by the high school and the parking lot where I learned--or failed, according to him--to parallel park. He swam in the pool and spit water in my face, completely deconstructing the wall I had managed to build over the last few years with a single glance in my direction. 

He promised he stayed because he was having fun, not just because flying home with me meant a first class seat.

It was rare, these days, too, that I found myself on a boat. A few times since the accident, maybe three or four. But his excitement and delight was contagious when he learned my parents still had one--the same one--and it was down on a dock off the backyard. 

I let the motor hum to life, pinks and purples splashed over the sky on our last night when he popped a bottle of champagne. I wondered if Lila knew he was here--he seemed undisturbed by his phone and altogether disconnected and unplugged. 

I drove us out to the middle of the lagoon, dropped anchor and told him about the time I learned to swim off the back. I was three or four, always in a life vest and completely unaware of the irony that my life was accumulating. 

Cam would jump off first, his floaties on his arms as he swam over to my dad who’d be in the water already. My mom would clap and snap pictures, throw us a noodle or two and then wrap us in towels back on board the boat. 

Harry was treading water beside me, though, hair dripping wet after he’d pulled off his shirt and shorts. 

I laughed when he dared me to jump in after him, said he hoped my swimming skills were better than they were back then. He splashed enough water at me on the boat before I gave in, promised he wouldn’t watch me undress and wouldn’t tell a soul that we’d been this cliché, swimming in our underwear and conversation laced with champagne giggles. So I tossed my shirt to the side and shimmied out of my shorts before I let myself sink under the surface. 

When I came up, he was watching me. 

“What?”

“Nothing--just--s’been nice to hang out with you.”

I twisted my face at his kindness, crinkled my nose at the friendship that had suddenly blossomed in the cool Florida weather.

The laughter from another boat floated over the waves, a big splash is what did it. 

I looked over, searched for the person only a hundred yards away, desperate for their head to emerge from the water, unlike his. My heartbeat was in my ears, throat tight and shoulders tense.

“Where are they?” I asked, my head turning frantically. “Do you see them? Did they come up?”

“What?” Harry followed my gaze and the smile faded from his lips. “What are you talking about?”

A man popped back up, a group of people on the boat cheered for him and sang along the music that hummed from their speakers. Harry could tell something was wrong, I tried my best to slow my breathing when I realized what was happening.

I swam over to the boat, hands clutching the ladder as I pulled myself up. My breathing was sporadic, the images flashing through my head with no option to pause. Allie’s voice, Will’s voice, the feeling in my chest when I knew he was dead and we couldn’t do anything about it. 

But I was acutely aware of the moment around me, Harry climbed up to the boat behind me and had a terrified look on his face, green eyes searching the floor for a towel before he draped it over my shoulders. 

“You’re alright--Cat, you’re alright, it’s okay,” his arms were around me when a sob slipped out, eyes stung from a mix of salt water and tears. I couldn’t do this, it couldn’t happen here and now. 

The waves from that day couldn’t show up, drag me under until I couldn’t breathe like he couldn’t. Not in front of Harry. 

“Hey,” he said, moving my shoulders to force me to sit down, his knees across from mine when he looked me in the eyes. “You’re alright, nothing’s happening.”

I nodded, licked at my lips and wiped at my eyes with the towel when I blinked a few times. Feet on the boat, hands around the towel, I could see blue and white and the keys in the ignition. “Okay,” I said, more grounded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, hands on my knees now to keep them from shaking. 

Silence for a minute when I looked back at the other boat. They were fine. No one was drowning. I wasn’t drowning. I was on the boat and Harry was on the boat. 

The sun had sunk lower now, almost meeting the horizon when I met his eyes again.

“When did he die?”

“What?”

“Your brother.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He plucked at his lower lip, he dropped my gaze for a second and then sighed. “It’s okay, Cat.”

I felt the water in my eyes at that, let my head swivel side to side to argue his claim. “No,” I said. “It’s not okay. This is why I don’t talk about it.”

“Maybe that’s why this is happening, then. Maybe you get like this because you refuse to talk about it.”

I pulled away from him, angry at his accusation and the way he sounded like he knew me better than he did. 

“Unless the two ten-year-olds in the frame above the guest bath are just random people,” he shrugged. “That’s Cameron, right?”

I was caught--unsure where to go and stuck on a boat with him. I didn’t look at him, kept my eyes on the floor and nodded slowly. 

He repeated his original question. “When did he die?”

“The summer before senior year of high school. He drowned.”

A breath of air escaped from his lips, like he’d expected a different answer. Cancer, maybe. A terminal illness or something less violent and avoidable. 

“Were you--with him when it happened?”

I wiped at my eyes, wishing the tears would stop and the memories would, too. “In the boat--we were drunk.”

He nodded, his focus solely on me when he leaned forward. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“You weren’t there,” I said quickly, defensively. “You have no clue what happened.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t. But I know it’s not your fault.”

I cried harder at that, vision blurred when I nodded. “It was, Harry--I didn’t realize how long he’d been underwater. I was too drunk.”

“It’s called an accident for a reason.”

“You’re not supposed to know any of this,” I reminded, eyeing him skeptically when I pulled the towel up to cover myself more. “Niall doesn’t know. Miles doesn’t know. No one knows.”

“Does Jules?”

I nodded. “Cause I’m a fucking moron and got too drunk one night.”

He laughed a little. “Why’ve you been hiding it?”

“Cause college was the first time I was just me. Not Catherine and Cameron, not one of two. I was just me for the first time and it was okay--it wasn’t sad or tragic that I was just me. I wanted it to be normal.”

He nodded in understanding, offered to drive us back to the dock if I showed him how. My parents were upstairs for the night, enough space for us to sit at the counter and heat up leftovers that Marta had made while we were out. He listened when I talked about the nightmares and the flashbacks, followed me up the stairs and nodded solemnly when I made him promise to not tell the others. 

He echoed his sentiment on the boat: it’s not your fault. He brushed a piece of hair behind my ear before he leaned in and kissed me outside my bedroom door, softer than before, and most importantly, sober. 

He followed me over to the bed, his touch gentle and warm when we slipped under the sheets. It was easy--slow and careful, not like the time before. He made me feel grounded, actually in the moment for the first time in a long time. He didn’t know it, but he made me feel seen.

Something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

It felt different to wake up beside him, knowing he knew and knowing he still thought I was a decent human. I looked over to see him, eyelids fluttered against his cheek when I stirred. 

A buzzing on the nightstand grabbed my attention, though, his phone vibrating with an incoming call when the morning sun crept in. A stomach dropping worse than ever, a shiver down my spine when I saw her name, a picture of the two of them side by side. 

Incoming call: Lila DiPretto

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author’s note: wowowowowowoooooww! A doozy of a chapter I hope none of you hate me too much for all of the emotion in this one! Things are heating up and now Harry knows Cat’s secret.....shit can only get weirder from here!

taglist: @mellamolayla @meganlikesfandoms @afterstylesmadeit @sing-me-a-song-harry @harryinsweatersandbandanas @stylesfics-xx @shawnsblue @avipshamitra @a-secretyoucankeep @groovybaybee @nearbyou @blueviiolence @kiwicherryharry @thurhomish @bopbopstyles @live-at-the-forum @ajayque @mleestiles @ashbabao @anssu-amry @odetostep @bemib @caritocp @ursogoldenshan @rainbowbutterflyboy @bubblegumstyles7 @1142590m @winter-soldier-007 @beingsolonely​ @sloanferg​ @ivanacats​ @mumplans​ @wastedsweetcreature​ @harryssugarhigh​ @wanderlustiing​ @sunflowers-styles​ @g0bl1nqueen​ @stepping-into-the-light​ @kara-246 @stilljosiegrossie​ @harrys-cherrry​

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[heyhey-heyward]

NO I DON’T | part five

series masterlist

summary: In which Rafe ruins a perfectly good night.

word count: 2.4k

let me know what you think! this is the final part, but I could be persuaded to do like an epilogue type continuation 

It was decided that everyone would get ready and meet at your house, with the exception of Pope, who had to go earlier and help his dad set up. Kiara was grinning from ear to ear as she watched you put the final touches one your look for the evening. A knock on your bedroom door startled both you and Kiara, and she rushed to answer it.

“Hey, is JJ with you?” You heard Kiara asked, poking her head out the door. You shook your head at her, still not understanding just why she was insistent on keeping your dress a secret for some big reveal.

“No, he’s on his way, though.” The familiar voice of John B filtered into your room. His answer must have been good enough for Kiara, because she stepped aside to let him in. “Wow, you guys look amazing. JJ is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”

“Shut up, JB.” You groaned, dropping to sit on the edge of your bed. Things had been awkward with JJ since your conversation at the ice cream shop, and you were doing your best to try and not think about it. Though, the confused look on John B’s face told you that you weren’t getting away with it so easily.

“Did something happen? Because he’s been really pouty since you took him shopping.” The brunette boy asked, and your gaze dropped to the ground in embarrassament.

“I may have… kissed him. On accident.” You hurried to clarify as you watched both John B’s and Kiara’s faces light up. John B was the first to react, a loud laugh that covered up the sound of your groan as you buried your face in your hands.

“What do you mean, by accident?” Kiara asked after swatting John B’s shoulder to get him to quiet down.

“I don’t know! He was sneaking out of my room the other night and when I was saying bye I just… kissed him!” You explained, throwing your arms up in despair. John B was still laughing, and you could tell Kiara was trying to hide her smile, but you weren’t amused. “And then after we went shopping he asked me about it and I told him it meant nothing and that we’re just friends.”

“Are you kidding me?” John B exclaimed at your confession. He was still smiling, but most of his joy had melted away into an almost exhausted look, as if he was tired of dealing with you and JJ. “ You guys are both, like, in love with each other and neither of you can actually tell each other that. JJ probably died the moment you kissed him.”

“That’s not true—” You started to deny, but were cut off when your dad called out that JJ had arrived.

“Wait here, I’m going to make sure he did his tie the right way.” Kiara jumped up from her spot and raced out the door before you could even stand. You could feel John B’s gaze on you, and the bed dip as he sat beside you.

“What if I don’t know how to act around him now and ruin our friendship?” You mumbled, finally letting the fears you had about JJ out. John B huffed, and though you were studying your hands intently, you could feel him press a kiss to the side of your head.

“You’ll be fine. You always are.” He assured you. The soft side of your best friend was showing, and you were grateful that you had him in your life. You didn’t get the chance to respond, because you could hear Kiara calling your name. John B stood, offering his hand to you and helped pull you to your feet. “C’mon, let’s go to this stupid party.”

“Such a way with words.” You rolled your eyes, smiling nonetheless as you let him lead you to the top of the stairs. You linked your arm through his, and when you finally saw everyone that was waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, it felt as if you were in a movie.

Your parents were there, your dad taking photos as your mom watched on with pride. Kiara was grinning, caught up in the excitement of everything. But your focus wasn’t on them. You were too busy admiring JJ, who was smiling widely at you. You had already seen him in the suit, but coupled with the fact that he had styled his hair, he looked twice as good. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized he had a bouquet of flowers for you, and as soon as you reached the bottom steps you headed straight towards JJ.

“Hi.” You breathed, too caught up in how good he looked and the way he was smiling at you to realize John B had moved away from your side. Your mind was racing but all you could think about was the blonde before you.

“Hey. These are for you.” JJ thrusted the flowers towards you, and you laughed lightly as you took them. You barely had the chance to thank him before he continued talking. “You look really, really good.”

“You clean up nice yourself.” He was flustered, but so were you, and you weren’t sure what else to say. Luckily you were spared having to come up with small talk in your frazzled state as your mom started ushering everyone to set up for photos.

“Oh, you guys all look so nice.” Your mom cooed, and you groaned, embarrassed by her antics. Still, you smiled and posed for however many photos she wanted. Eventually you were freed, and the four of you couldn’t get into John B’s van fast enough.

No matter how much you didn’t want to go to Midsummers, you had to admit that you were having fun. You had found Pope pretty quickly after arriving, and for a while you were distracted from not knowing where you stood with JJ. Kiara grabbed your hand and pulled you onto the dancefloor, where you spent what felt like forever simply having a good time.

“JJ’s been practically drooling over you all night. Did you see his face when he finally saw your dress? I’m glad I made him wait to see it.” Kiara teased, earning an eye roll. You couldn’t argue, you had felt JJ’s eyes on you practically the whole night, but you were too stubborn to tell that to Kiara. Instead of responding, the upbeat song you had been dancing to changed to one that was much slower and you let out a sigh. Just as you and Kiara turned to leave the dance floor, JJ and John B appeared.

“M’ladies.” JJ pretended to tip an imaginary hat and you curtsied in response. He grinned at you, offering you his hand. “May I have this dance?”

“Only if you stop talking like that.” You giggled, not even noticing your other two friends slip into the crowd as your hands locked around the back of JJ’s neck and his landed on your waist. You started swaying to the music, quickly finding yourself lost in his baby blue eyes. You caught yourself staring and cleared your throat, looking away to try and save yourself some embarrassment. “So, how are you liking being a Kook for the night?”

“I’ve only gotten four dirty looks and been mistaken for a waiter twice, so that’s good.” He joked and you shook your head at him with a grin. It was obvious this wasn’t his scene, considering that this was probably the first time you had seen him so dressed up, but he clearly wasn’t hating it.

“I’m really glad you’re here, even though we were supposed to watch C.H.U.D. tonight.” You teased, watching as his smile widened.

“It’s a good movie!” He argued and you laughed loudly, drawing a few stares from the older couples around you. JJ’s hands squeezed your sides and he pulled you closer to him, the look in his eyes softening to a more sincere one. “But seriously, I’m glad I came too. Anything to spend time with you.”

Your heart soared at his words and you had to remind yourself not to completely melt under his touch and gaze. You shared a smile with him, and suddenly your eyes were fluttering shut as you both leaned towards each other slowly. You could feel his breath fanning across your face and his nose brush against your cheek, and then—

“Why are there so many Pogues on our side of the island?”

Rafe. The sound of his voice caused you and JJ to jump apart. The Cameron boy was smiling smugly at you and JJ, with his typical goons Topper and Kelce flanking him. JJ stepped in front of you, as if to be a shield from whatever Rafe was going to do.

“Just leave, Rafe. Don’t cause a scene.” You tried to reason, but the older boy just turned his maniacal grin on you. The crowd around you kept dancing, but John B and Kiara had returned and were watching the interaction from a few feet away.

“Why are you even hanging around these guys? You could do so much better. You’re a Kook now. You have a future, he doesn’t.” Rafe’s voice was sickly sweet, not bothering to look to JJ as he gestured towards him at the end of his tirade. The insulted blonde took a step forward as if he was going to fight Rafe, but your hand shot out to catch his arm. He stopped, but you could feel how tense he was under your touch.

“Come on, let’s just go.” John B cut in, sliding between JJ and Rafe to diffuse the situation. JJ’s jaw was set tight, but after a gentle nudge from his brunette best friend they headed towards the exit. You started to follow them, but your mom caught you on your way out, telling you that you had to stay.

While the first half of the party was fun, the second half seemed to drag on forever. Rafe kept sending you smug looks, clearly happy that he managed to ruin your night. As soon as you got home, you changed out of your dress and barely had time to bid your parents goodnight before you were hopping into your car and pulling out of the driveway.

Everyone was already at The Chateau when you parked your car. JJ and Pope took up residence in the two hammocks, and John B and Kiara sat in chairs nearby. When they saw you approaching, everyone but the blonde got up to give you a minute alone with JJ.

“Good luck.” John B muttered as he pressed a kiss to the side of your when passing you. You smiled at him, and once the three of them were all the way inside you finally approached the brooding boy.

“I was wrong, JJ.” You sighed, climbing into the hammock with him. He didn’t say anything, though he opened his arms for you to lay on side with your head on his chest. “The kiss was an accident, but it wasn’t nothing. Not to me, at least. I panicked, and told myself that you didn’t feel the same so when you confronted me about it, I lied.”

“You were wrong, then.” JJ mumbled. One of his hands moved up to brush up and down your back soothingly. You let out a sigh of content under his touch and waited for him to find the words you knew he was searching for. “I just… do you like me? More than friends?”

“Yeah, I do.”

You didn’t hesitate to tell him so. It felt good to finally tell him, and after everything that had happened tonight, you were hopeful that there was a chance he felt the same. You gathered all your courage and tilted your head up to look up at him, only to find him already watching you.

“Why?” The question was simple and innocent, but you knew he was still thinking about what Rafe had said. No matter how wrong the older boy was, JJ had been hearing things like that his whole life. It got to him from time to time, and it broke your heart to see the vulnerable look in his eyes.

“Because you’re the funniest guy I know. You’re so easy to be around, and I feel like I can do anything when I’m with you.” You confessed, pouring your heart out to him. It was all true, you meant every word and you wondered why it had taken you so long to realize how you felt. “You’re my person, J.”

Before you really knew it, his hand was cupping your jaw and he had leaned forward enough to press his lips against yours. It was soft and slow as a result of the awkward position you were in. When you shifted up towards him, the kiss deepened and his hand fell to your waist.

You pulled apart to breathe, though you didn’t get far. Your face hovered over his as you searched his eyes for answers to questions you hadn’t asked. He smiled, and you couldn’t help but notice that he looked much more relaxed than he had moments earlier.

“For the record, I like you too.” He joked, and you laughed quietly before pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. “Why else do you think I would put up with going to Midsummers?” You shook your head with a smile, brushing your fingers across his cheekbone.

“Well, I’m glad you did, even if Rafe is a massive jerk.” You hummed, leaning back in to press your lip against JJ’s again. This kiss was sweet and slow, neither of you in a hurry and just drinking each other in. Your whole body felt on fire and you distantly wondered why you had taken so long to tell him how you felt—or why it had taken you so long to realize you even had feelings for him.

“JJ, can you not do that in my hammock?” John B called from the porch, and you heard Pope and Kiara snickering beside him as you and JJ broke apart from each other. You didn’t bother looking at them, too entranced by the blonde that was looking at you as if you put the stars in the sky. You smiled at him, brushing a strand of his hair off of his forehead. JJ copied your smile, though he quickly glanced at the spectators on the porch.

“I’m just appreciating her.”

fin.

—

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