#(which is - from what i got - 70% college students)

[gl1tzh]

im not a business major, heck im barely an adult and dont even know how to pay taxes, but one thing i know for sure: watcher is NOT gonna profit from this decision. it's bound to just make them all lose money.

i understand all their reasons but this idea is bad, like, bad awful. who even approved it???

[ghxstic]

⸝⸝ — YOU'RE MINE NOW .

⸝⸝ A/N :: serial killer! toji makes me feel some type of way <3 5.2k words.

⸝⸝ SYNOPSIS :: you're a college student, one dark night, the time was passing by normally, that is until infamous serial killer, toji fushiguro, breaks into your house with the intent to kill. you manage to run, but not for long, what will you do to save yourself?

⸝⸝ C/W :: dub-con, hunter and prey dynamics, mentions of murder / violence, breeding, mating press, slapping, degrading, mentions of impregnation, kidnapping, cheating, etc .

⸝⸝ TAGLIST :: @devmimi @luvbladez @snake-titan @zannivrs @fatenpara @lilithlunas @fartwithsplinters @beebopsalad @chaoticevilbakugo @getoswhore

a soft sigh escaped your lips as your eyes gazed over your notes, studying for a midterm at night was always a daunting task. a cup filled with coffee sat beside you on the desk, the only thing keeping you awake, sure the only thing coffee brought was a false sense of alertness, but it still kept you relatively awake. 

rubbing your forehead, you let out a small groan, for how long have you been studying? you started at around five thirty in the afternoon and now it's eleven at night, seven hours? you needed a break, desperately. 

standing up and taking your mug with you, you sat on your bed, placing the mug on the nightstand before laying down, your muscles tensed as your back got used to the new position, you have been hunched over your notes for hours now. making a small mental note, you needed to fix your posture. 

taking out your phone, the home screen flashed brightly, showing off your notifications, you had a handful of text messages, some from your friends, and some from your boyfriend. seeing his name on your screen made you smile.

nuzzling onto the soft pillow, you opened your phone, tapping in your passcode quickly before opening your boyfriend's messages. 

' hi baby, are you still studying? '

' remember to not overwork yourself, love you. '

your face felt warm reading his messages, gentle butterflies filling your stomach, clicking the keyboard, you were quick to type up a response. 

' hi! i just finished studying, my brain feels like mush. but coffee always comes to the rescue! how are you? '

you didn't know if he was awake at this hour, it was almost midnight after all, maybe he had already fallen asleep waiting for your reply, which made your heartache from guilt, maybe a bit of anxiety. unconsciously, your lips caught up teeth, chewing on it as you stared at your screen. but the message was opened, the little ' read ' coming at the bottom, which surged a new sense of alertness, he was typing. 

' i'm good, baby. i hope your study session went well, i know you're going to do amazing on this test. '

again butterflies filled your stomach, your hand went to your mouth as a small noise left your lips, a small squeal, he was always so sweet, constantly praising you and making you feel loved, it was like a dream come true for you. he had to be your soulmate, no other man has made you feel this loved, and truly, you have never fallen for someone so hard before. he was everything you ever wanted, kind, funny, handsome, he respected you and your goals, encouraging you to follow your heart instead of pushing them aside. he was absolutely perfect. 

as the minutes passed, the two of you kept talking, he asked you about your studying, about your day, if you ate, etcetera. and you did the same too, you asked about his day, how work went, how he was, overall the conversation was lively and it always left you aching for a response from him. the evening couldn't get any better. 

but that loving liveliness in the night was quick to end, a noise came from your living room, it was rather loud, making your body jump in surprise. your eyes moved to the door of your room, your door was shut, but even then your eyes were wide and you were high and alert. 

what was that?

your mind started to go 70 miles per hour, trying to rationalize the noise, you were home alone, was it the fridge? maybe it was refilling the icemaker? no, it didn't sound like the fridge, maybe something fell? right? sure. you nodded to yourself, letting yourself relax. your attention went back to your phone, going back to texting your boyfriend, but then another noise came from outside your room, now that scared you. something couldn't have fallen twice, there was no heavy wind inside your home or any pet that could hit a surface that could cause a noise.

slowly, you sat up on your bed, staying quiet to keep an ear out for any other noise. it was faint, but you still caught it, the creaking of wood, your floors were old and wooden, the floor constantly creaked when someone walked on it. 

there was someone inside your house. 

you grabbed your phone quickly, your hands shakingly wrote your boyfriend a text. 

' there's someone inside my house. '

you didn't have any time to give more context, you stood up from your bed slowly, maybe it was a friend? that sounds normal? right? 

but no, your friends wouldn't stop by your house without telling you first, there was an intruder inside your house. you hoped it was just a thief, your feet stood in front of the door, as quiet as you possibly could. but your heart was hammering against your chest, you were horrified, you could hear the steps, getting closer and closer to your room. finally, your fight or flight kicked in, hide, you need to hide, you need to call for help too. 

you rushed to your bed, quickly arranging the sheets so it seemed like the house was vacant before hiding under it. you had no idea if this was a good idea, your house has never been broken into. your hand gripped your phone tightly, your hands quickly opened the call app on your phone, you could see your boyfriend was messaging, spamming you, but your ringtone was off, so there was no noise. you didn't care though, your main focus was to call 911. 

you opened the dial and quickly punched in the number, pressing your phone to ear your breathing was shaky, it felt like someone pressing on your chest. 

"911, what's your emergency?"

a woman's sweet voice came from your phone.

"someone broke into my house— send someone please— i-im alone, please—"

you whispered, your voice was shaky, your eyes focused on the door as you hid. 

the door's knob turned, he was getting in. 

"okay ma'am, what's your address?"

your heart was stuck into your chest, your eyes wide as the door creaked open.

"ma'am? are you there? i see your location, the police are on their way." 

she spoke, but you said nothing, your hand was clamped over your mouth, as you tried to muffle your fast and shaky breathing. 

a deep chuckle filled the quiet room, "i know you're here." a new voice came in, it was a man, the person inside your room, it was a man with a deep voice, sending shivers down your spine, you heard him walk towards your bathroom. he opened the door and scanned the restroom, you heard him jank the shower curtain back, he muttered something before entering the room again, part of you cussed, you should've taken the opportunity to run away, but you didn't. 

he walked to your closet, opening it, empty. just like the bathroom, his eyes narrowed, his back facing the bed, not in the bathroom or closet? he turned around, his hand gripping the handle of his blade tightly, his gaze fell on your bed. clever girl. 

slowly walking over, he stood by the end of the bed, kneeling down, he leaned down to see if you were under there. 

your back was facing the end of the bed though, you were frozen rigid, you knew he was there, you knew he had found you, but you didn't know he was bent over, you didn't know he was watching you. his eyes were piercing through you. the call with the 911 operator was still on, she was trying to reach you, asking if you were there, but you couldn't say anything. 

the man reached out for your ankle, you didn't know, you didn't know until it was too late.

a large hand gripped your ankle, before you could even say or think, your body was pulled from under the bed. your hands tried to grip the floor, trying to pull away but he was stronger than you, much stronger. 

once you were exposed, your body was shaking like a leaf, your eyes were wide and teary, your eyes met his. something about seeing the man in front of you broke you. a scream left your lips, as you tried to kick his grip away. 

he stared in amusement, trying to kick him off? how cute. his grip got tighter, painful, he was definitely going to leave a bruise. 

"c'mon kid, stop kicking 'n screaming, you're only making it harder for yourself." he said, but you didn't falter, you caught a glance of his knife, it only encouraged you more, if you were going to die, you were going to die trying to run away. 

toji tsked, he got on top of you, one hand holding your ankle while the other gripped your chin, the blade was so close to your skin. now, he leaned down to your level, his dark eyes connected with yours. now you could really see him, messy black hair, he had a scar on his lips, dark bags under his eyes, he was much older than you, maybe in his early 40's? but his gaze. the murderous glint behind his eyes, it made your heart fall to your stomach. 

he was familiar, you knew him from somewhere, your brain worked on trying to see why you knew him. why was he so familiar, then it hit you, he was on the news, his headshot. his name was toji fushiguro, he had been on the news recently, he was a serial killer. he had been accused on at least three murders recently, and suspected for more. now the realization hit you, you were going to join that list. there's so many things you haven't been able to do in life, you haven't even graduated college, this was your third year, you haven't gotten married, you haven't had kids, all those traditional adult steps that you didn't care for then were now the most important thing in your eyes. you haven't seen your boyfriend, your parents, your family, you haven't been able to say goodbye to your loved ones. the realization was heartbreaking. 

"just give in 'n it'll be less painful, 'kay?" toji spat, a twisted smile coming to his lips as he saw the realization hit you. the way you got that hopeless look on your face, how cute. 

what he didn't expect was for your knee to crash against his groin, that really caught him off guard. while his hand gripped your ankle, he forgot about your other leg. a strained groan left his lips before he moved away, he let go of you before yelling curses. 

seeing now that his hands were off you, your window of freedom opened and you didn't hesitate to take it. you scrambled to your feet and ran out of your room, your adrenaline spiked and you were going to take advantage of it. toji was doubled over himself, he watched as you left, he cursed to himself, fucking bitch. he heard the backdoor slam open, he wasn't going to let you get away. grabbing the handle of his knife again, toji got to his feet and ran after you. you want to play hunter and prey? fine. just know, you'd be hunted.

you had run out the backdoor, your backyard was practically a forest, you knew your way around the forest, you hoped you had the advantage, that he would get lost and stop following you. besides, the police were supposed to be on their way. 

you were barefoot, sprinting down the wooded area, barely paying attention behind you. your adrenaline was so high you could barely notice the ache of your legs or the burn in your chest.

you thought you had the advantage, but toji was right on your tail, he was fast, faster than you expected, even if you ran as fast as you could, he was faster. you were truly the prey here, you were stupid for underestimating him. 

your sprinting got caught off when two large muscular arms wrapped around you, one pressing the knife tightly against your throat, with one harsh slash he could easily slit your throat. your eyes were wide as you felt him against you, you were breathing heavily, and now your muscles started to register the soreness, making it hard to even stay standing upright. toji was breathing heavily too, his warm breath brushed against your ear. his chest was heaving against your back.

he laughed at your worthless attempt to run away from him. "you're really fucking stupid huh? - hah - now look at you, all worn out and useless." toji degraded. 

you let out a small whimper, tears building up at your waterline quickly, "p—please, don't kill me, i'll do anything! i won't tell the police, i promise! just let me live!" you cried out, tears streamed down your cheeks like a waterfall, sobs leaving your lips with no end. toji only tightened his hold on you, he stayed silent for a few seconds, "yeah? you'll do anything?" toji questioned, you nodded your head quickly, small hiccups and whimpers leaving your lips, not hesitating at all. toji hummed in reply, you were waiting to see what would happen, part of you expected to be let go while the other expected your neck to be sliced open and you'd be left there, to bleed out in the middle of the forest. 

but instead, toji shoved you to the ground, the collision knocked the breath out of your lungs, weakly, you turned around stared up at toji, you didn't know what go expect, but you didn't expect his hands to be untying the knot on the waistline of his pants. 

then it hit you, he was going to fuck you, normally you wouldn't allow this, but if it meant you'd die, you just let him do what he wanted. 

"pull your pants down." toji commanded, standing over you, with a small sniffle, you started fumbling with your pajama pants before slipping them off slowly. as well as your panties, leaving your lower body bare, you felt ashamed, were you really letting this happen? not wanting to get brutally murdered by the man before you, you just complied, spreading your legs, trying to keep the killer happy. seeing you like this made his cock twitch, oh you were so desperate, he could tell, but he liked that. he liked dumb little girls like you. 

he kneeled in between your legs, pulling his shirt up slightly, revealing the lower part of his abdomen, you couldn't help but stare, his happy trail starting under his belly button, and his v-line was pronounced, it leading down to the bulge under his baggy pants. 

he pulled his waistband down, his cock springing out nicely, causing your eyes to widen slightly, it was so big, so thick, precum adoring his tip. this made your muscles tense, did you really want to do this? was it too late to run away? was death the better option? your boyfriend flashed through your mind, making guilt to wash over you, if you survive this, he would understand right? probably, but would he forgive you? you didn't know, you were too focused on your own regrets that you didn't notice how toji had towered over you. 

seeing how your mind was somewhere else, toji pulled his hand back, slapping you across the face before gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him, you were brought out of your guilt filled daze and stared at him, like a deer caught in headlights, your cheek stinging from the slap. "if you pull any more tricks, i promise i'll kill you. i'm being nice with you, 'kay?" he warned, his voice laced with pure venom, this time, you knew he wasn't messing around, nodding your head, you replied. "y—yes, i p—promise." you whimpered, toji grinned, "good girl." he praised. 

taking a hold of his cock, toji pressed it against your entrance, but before he could push in you spoke up, "w—wait, no prep or anything?" you questioned, but toji only laughed, he took a hold of your hips with such ease, he held them up so your cunt would be closer to his lips. due to the position, your back dragged against the grass under you. what was he going to do? toji then spat down on your cunt, making your hips buck against the air at the feeling. a soft noise left your lips, toji pressed his thumb against your cunt, spreading the saliva around so it coated your slit. then he dropped your hips down.

"there, i don't want you breaking with just the tip." toji spoke, his hands helping his cock press against you, something about his words made your cunt clench around nothing. the way he spoke about himself just made you feel some type of way, but you didn't know how. his confidence made you squirm, but you were still grateful that he at least prepped you a bit. 

toji rubbed his bulbous tip against your hole, you just needed to calm down, your eyes shut, trying to imagine something to distract you, you imagined your boyfriend, maybe if you imagined him while toji used you, you didn't have to feel too guilty? maybe it will make time pass faster? you just wanted this to end so you could be left alone, that is, if toji was kind enough to let you go. something inside you said that you were being too hopeful, but at this rate you needed more positivity in this situation. 

since your eyes were closed, you didn't notice how close toji was to pushing his cock in, his thick cock was pushed inside you stretching you out further than ever before, a sharp cry of pain left your lips and your eyes practically shot open, your hands instinctively gripping his shirt, tears built up in your eyes for the pain of being brutally stretched out like that. toji groaned though, your walls practically suffocated his cock, they were so tiny compared to his girth, it made his eyes shut in bliss. 

small sobs left your lips as you tried to accommodate him, it's either this or death, you reminded yourself as you tried to calm down. but god, it was so hard, he was so big, you swore that if he moved he would break you. he was so deep inside too, you didn't think it was that deep. toji pressed his palm against where your womb would be, "am i too big for ya, kid? i can see my cock inside ya." toji mused, pressing down on the bulge in the bottom of your tummy. you whimpered, teary eyes moving down to where his hand was, holy shit, there was a tummy bulge, the sight making your cunt clench around him, sudden arousal pooling to your cunt. 

"ya like that? you like having my cock?" toji teased, his hips pulled back before rolling his hips against yours, feeling his thick cock rub against your walls made you whimper, your little hands gripped his shirt, while your gaze was still on your belly, watching as the stomach bulge disappeared but appeared once more when he pushed in. his thrust was slow, mostly because he was interested in watching how you took his fat cock, not because he cared for you. his next thrust was harder, uncaring. 

what did you expect? he has killed countless people before and he showed absolutely no care for them, why would he care now? toji wasn't your boyfriend, he wasn't someone you shared a story with, he was just an obstacle. he was using you for his needs and you were letting him. 

your lips parted as shaky breaths and gasps slipped past, fuck, toji's hands moved to grab your legs, he easily folded your body into the position he wanted to, your legs were trapped in between his thighs and his arms, his body shadowed over you. he had you folded nicely into a mating press. the new position gave you the illusion that his cock was just hitting deeper than you expected. 

the small breathless gasps that left your lips slowly turned into small moans, you couldn't control it, the full feeling he gave you made your stomach twist. maybe it was the danger, he could kill you right now, but he wasn't, the older man was enjoying your little cunt wrapped around him.

he kept fucking his cock inside you, but as much as you hated the idea of sleeping with another man before, you couldn't help but enjoy it now. you tried to keep your moans and whines minimal, a voice inside your head telling you that the police would find you like this if you let yourself loosen up. now, were you afraid to get caught due to your dignity? were you afraid they would see you in such a vulnerable state? or were you afraid that they would see you enjoying it? what would people think if they saw the way your little hands gripped his biceps? what would they think if they saw your face twisting in pleasure? what would they think when they heard your cunt squelching as he fucked you? that didn't matter now. 

you couldn't help but enjoy it, the danger of the situation only adding more to your senses, like this you realized toji was an attractive man, much older and insane, but his facial structure made your walls flutter. having his face so close to yours, his breathing gently caressing your skin, how his lips were parted and deep, guttural groans left his lips. 

toji placed his large palm on the side of your head, he pushed your head to the side, your cheek pressed against the dirt floor, he angled his hips again, keeping you folded into a mating press, but with his palm staying pressed against your head the power of his thrusts got harder and faster. 

the noise of skin slapping echoed through the dark and quiet forest, as well as the sinful noise of your cunt sucking toji back in greedily. 

"you hear that? sucking me back in like a whore, and just a while ago you were crying 'n screaming." toji spoke with a wicked smile on his lips as he fucked you senseless. "i wonder what that lil boyfriend of yours would say seeing ya like this—drooling on the cock of a murderer." toji mused, now at the mention of him your eyes widened, first the guilt rushed through your body, then a question popped in your mind. how did toji know about your boyfriend?

"h—how- how do you..k—know?" you asked weakly, the hand that was holding your face down now gripped your chin, he pulled your face so you could see him properly, his face was so close, it startled you. 

"i know everything about you, y/n l/n." toji spoke, a twisted grin on his lips as he saw the horror wash through your face, even as he made this revelation, he kept fucking your cunt like a fleshlight, making your insides into mush. 

he knew everything about you? a new feeling of unease built up in your stomach, had he been watching you? for how long? what does he know? "i know about your studies, friends, your family, your boyfriend.." toji drawled, with every word he slammed his cock down inside you to add more punctuation, his cock knocked against your cervix as he did so, sharp moans leaving you lips as he did so. 

you were shocked, why you? so many questions filled your brain, but keep track of them was getting hard as toji kept fucking you.

you stopped caring about the consequences, the questions, you didn't care, at least not now. not when your cunt was stuffed and toji kept moving. your head turned to the side, moans leaving your lips, your tone getting louder and more high pitched. 

atta girl. finally giving in. 

toji kept slamming his hips against yours, his hand gripped your shirt before yanking the hem up, your tits bounced at the force of his thrusts. leaning down, he put his lips on your nipple, sucking on it so hard it bruised, this repeated for the other, then he littered hickies on your chest, marking you as his. 'property of fushiguro' he thought, he leaned back, your head was still to the side, that was no fun. if you were going to keep moaning like a whore while you got fucked, he at least wanted to see your slutty face. 

he yanked your face so you would look at him, "look at me while i fuck you, 'kay?" toji ordered, and you nodded weakly. so obedient. 

you were sopping, your slick coated your cunt, his cock, balls, and pubic bone, as well as your thighs. you really were enjoying this, huh? he never imagined you to be like this, from all he knew you and your boyfriend were slow and vanilla, you weren't being taken care of sexually if you were this messy. no worries, toji is here now. 

your cunt started to tighten, and your moans were practically incoherent babbles. "m'gonna— c—cum!—toji!—" you cried out, a horrible pressure had been building up for a while now. throughout the time your arms had wrapped around the older man for some type of support. you could barely handle it anymore, the pleasure was way too much for your body to handle. you kept babbling about your climax and how close it was, toji let you cling onto him while his lips were on your neck, bruising and biting your skin. 

finally, the pressure snapped and your body jolted against his, your back was arched and your head was thrown back against the dirt floor, your eyes rolled back as a sharp cry left your lips. now you were nothing but a mess, hearing you cry like that made toji tense, the way your cunt squeezed down on him, milking him, he was getting close too. your walls fluttered and your body shook. 

you laid back, your arms resting against the floor and your gasped and panted, glossy eyes looking up at toji. his large palms moved your thighs again, this time he pressed them tight against your chest, your calves rested over his shoulders as he chased his climax, he was grunting and groaning. 

"when i cum, m'gonna fill you up, maybe get you pregnant, how does that sound, huh? then you can be with me." toji grunted, but instead of a cry or argue, you just nodded your head like a dumb bimbo, still crying his name as your body tingled in overstimulation. 

"mmyeah–! breed me, p—please!—" you moaned, your constant begs and moans were fucking killing him. in all these years he's never fucked someone like you, you had him in a fucking chokehold. he was sweating, you both were, his ebony colored hair was stuck to his forehead, he grunted as his thrusts got sloppy, he was going to cum, he was going to fill your little cunt to the brim. make sure you get pregnant with his kid, just so he can have you to himself. 

his cock twitched, and with a deep groan toji came, he had shoved his cock inside you, letting it pressed against your cervix before his cum spurted out, thick, warm, and milky. it painted your walls nicely, stuffing you nicely too. his body weight was pressed against you, making sure to keep you filled. slowly, he rolled his hips against yours as he came down from his high, his breathing was heavy and so was yours. your brain practically stopped working, all you could think about was toji, only him, your body was limp and sore, and your cunny was nice and filled. 

toji pulled out, his eyes watched as your stomach bulge left and your cunt oozed. he pulled back from your body, his gaze still on your cunt, with two fingers he pushed his cum back inside you before shoving his soft cock back inside his pants. 

now, you could barely think straight, what was he going to do with you? he snatched your pants and panties off the floor before haphazardly putting them back on your body, he then pushed your shirt down, but what about now? he remembered you were in a call with emergency services, which was a pain in the ass, toji stood up from the floor, he saw something glimmer, his blade, he grabbed it and shoved it into his pocket. he couldn't take you back to your house, with a groan, he pulled you off the ground with relative ease, with those muscles of him, you weighed nothing to him.

your head  rested against his chest, you were so ungodly tired now, that you couldn't process anything and just drifted off in the hands of a murderer. 

now that he minds, it's better to deal with you when you're asleep, he doesn't want a moment of clarity to hit you and cause another fit like before. 

when you woke up, you were in another room, another place, your head was pounding. you barely remembered anything, reaching for your phone you saw nothing, then reality started to set in, you remembered the night before, the intruder, the game of predator and prey, and the way you got out of dying. you panicked, throwing the sheets off before scanning the room, maybe there was a phone here that you could use? when you saw nothing you aimed for the door, ignoring the soreness in between your legs, slamming the door open you rushed down the hall, only to slam against someone. 

"look at that, you're awake."

looking up, you met his eyes again, toji, it was him– you gulped, "where am i?" you asked, ignoring his comment, "my house, or should i say, our house?" he replied, smile crawling to his scarred lips. your eyes widened, "what are you talking about?" you questioned our house? what the fuck did he mean?

"after last night, after that little show you gave, i realized i wanted to keep ya, and that's what i'm going to do." toji said so casually, causing your lips to part, your words catching your chest. "b-but i– i have a life! i have college, family, friends, my boyfriend!— you're insane if you think you are just going to take me away from that!" you yelled, but he didn't care. "we'll figure that out later, and a boyfriend? yesterday you didn't care about him, why worry now?" toji laughed cruelly, shame and guilt filling your mind. 

"it's not like that and you know it.." you argued back weakly, not being able to meet his gaze, "yeah? yesterday you were like a dumb whore, crying over cock. i don't wanna hear your excuses." toji reminded, the more he spoke the more sick you felt, but you were mostly sick of yourself, because you knew all that was true. without replying, toji spoke up again. 

"besides, it doesn't matter if you run away or not, you're mine now, kid. and i will always find you."

ⓒ VMPIRX on TUMBLR do not repost or copy my works.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA (30f) for losing my cool/snapping at my roommate and friend (30m, who I will call Kyle) because he was too loud playing games online with his friends?

For context, in case it's needed: this happened a couple months ago, but it's been on my mind. We are both autistic and thus got a late start in our adult lives, in several ways. We have been friends for 10 years and have lived together for roughly 7 of them, on and off (we adopted 2 cats together many years ago, its just easier like this so we dont have to separate them or force one of us to be away from the cats. we love them very much. kind of a coparenting situation lol). Kyle has a salaried tech job that's remote for 70% of the time, and I've recently become a full-time online college student after failing to "make it" without a degree.

We live in a tiny 2-bedroom house that Kyle's family owns. We're only charged for utilities, which is why neither of us are leaving anytime soon (contrary to what you might assume, Kyle does not make a lot of money), especially since it's giving me the opportunity to go to school full-time and not worry about rent. Kyle helps me a lot with groceries and other necessities and I do most of the chores.

So we are always basically on top of each other, and sometimes we get on each other's nerves. We try to be respectful of each others' space, but it's hard because there is not much space in the first place.

I had a really busy day studying and doing homework, which is basically every day for me, since I'm taking 6 classes, 4 of which are STEM classes. So I tend to fall asleep early if I'm not unintentionally pulling all-nighters. I was trying to sleep when this happened around 9pm.

He usually closes his door because he knows he can be very loud, but it doesn't help much. I ended up having to close my own door to try and drown out some of his yelling and laughing, which I understand is going to happen and I try not to hold it against him.

But then he opened his door and left it wide open, so I could hear everything, like he was in the same room. Something really funny must have happened because he started scream-laughing.

Despite this being a semi-regular weekly occurrence, I was really startled. I figured, it probably wasn't intentional and he'll try to quiet down and close his door. I tried to relax and as soon as I started to fall asleep, he did it again, except louder.

This time he didn't stop, he was full-on screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs. Kinda like those game streamers/youtubers where literally all they do is scream the whole time? Very similar. My cat, who was asleep under the blanket on top of me, got startled awake and scratched the shit out of my leg.

I think this all triggered a "fight" response because I was suddenly just so incredibly pissed at Kyle, which I tried to get under control, but he would not stop screaming and I literally could not hear myself think.

(I cannot wear earplugs or have anything in/covering my ears for huge sensory reasons.)

Then my cat wanted to leave the room to see what the commotion was, so I had to open the door, which gave me a direct line of sight to to Kyle at his computer.

I walked over to his doorway. Tried to knock and call his name, but he didnt notice with his noise cancelling headphones on. So I slammed my hand against his door to get his attention & yelled "Hey! Shut the fuck up, Kyle!"

He looked surprised to see me and laughed and kinds waved it off and said "sorry, it got a little intense" and he started to explain what they were doing.

I cut him off and said "I don't care. Shut the hell up." He said he could close his door again, and I said "No, you need to stop. Just stop! You're freaking the cats out too!" and I pointed to my leg with huge bloody scratch marks, shut his door, went back to my room, shut my own door. And of course after that I had adrenaline coursing through my body and I couldn't fall asleep anyway.

After that, I didnt hear a single sound from his room apart from an occasional quiet laugh. I started to feel guilty. I think I overreacted and ruined his fun. I know this is his way of blowing off steam halfway through the work week.

I also felt embarrassed because his friends probably heard me throwing a fit. We have lived with them before, and they're exactly that loud every single night. I have had to ask them to quiet down multiple times, and Kyle told me later on that gave them the impression that I'm. Well, "neurotic, controlling bitch" was heavily implied. Kyle is usually a lot more chill, but being around these guys influences him to act more like them.

But, I guess being loud while having fun isn't a crime, especially when it's not even 10pm yet. I feel like I proved his friends right, maybe.

The next morning I apologized, he apologized too, and everything seems to be good between us, but it's been a while and he's a lot quieter during game night now. He's such a reserved and stressed out person, he hardly ever laughs except when he's playing games, so I feel like I destroyed an important outlet.

I told another friend what happened and she said I didn't overreact at all and she would have flipped out way sooner if her husband did that. (Not sure it's comparable I mean we aren't married lol) And for the record, this friend and her husband were once part of a now-fractured friend group including Kyle and his game night friends, but grew apart, for a lot of reasons, but I think mainly because the Loud Gamer Friends never really grew up while everyone else matured and moved on to different phases in life.

Basically my friends current impression of Kyle is that he is a decent person but incredibly emotionally stunted and feels like he may unintentionally cope in ways that often hurt me without caring as much as she thinks he should. Which....feels partially accurate, I guess. But isn't that placing too much responsibility on him for my wellbeing? He does a lot for me, so it felt like an unfair thing to say.

My mom on the other hand, seems to fully think I am an asshole fun-ruiner. She thinks I should have tried harder to calm down. Maybe I should have approached him sooner - nicely.

And I agree. He probably would have tried his best to oblige even if he couldn't fully succeed. But that's the reason I didn't bother - in the past he has only been able to honor that kind of request for maybe 10-15 minutes, then forgets, and it's exhausting to keep reminding him.

Anyway... what does everyone here think?

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

What’s That Van Halen Song?…

Summary- An opportunity for some extra college credit lands you tutoring a few students from Hawkins High, and it seems like one of them has a little more trouble than the rest.

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None :)

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @gvf23

(Tag list is always open, let me know if you’d like to be added 🖤)

Word Count- 2.9k

You sighed sitting at your usual table in the library, waiting for the next student. Ever since you graduated and started your classes at the community college, you’ve found a little extra time to help out the other students at Hawkins High. It was always nice when you had the college tutors help you out with your classes and you figured it was best to keep up with the tradition. After all, with their help you were able to graduate.

You opened up one of your notebooks and started scribbling away, wanting to try and kill some time as you waited and waited. Usually you never had to wait this long for someone to show up. It was always maybe a 5, 10 minutes maximum wait, but there was only one student you knew always showed up late.

“Hey! Sorry I’m-“ Eddie said to you as he approached your table, not before being cut off by the librarian shushing him to keep his voice down, “Sorry i’m late.” He said quietly.

He pulled out the chair next to you and set a few notebooks and folders onto the table.

“It’s alright,” You gave him a smile, “were you able to get that last test back?”

Eddie nodded quickly and opened up the folder in front of him, flipping through the various papers that were stuffed into it. You watched as his fingers moved through the scattered quizzes and exercise sheets, and you even noticed a few doodles on them, little dragons and demons and swords. For someone the same age as you, it really seemed like he never grew out of the same things you saw from the freshmen you helped tutor. Still scribbling little doodles on his papers, still getting sidetracked and distracted when you were trying to teach him, he was just a big kid. As cute as it was, you knew something had to change if he wanted to graduate on time.

“Um… Alright, here it is-“ He finally found the test he had been searching for in his jam packed folder, “-and here’s a quiz we took beforehand.” He placed the two pieces of paper onto the table and you moved them closer to you to compare his work.

“Alright, so you got a 73% on the quiz, which is a lot better than last time! But you only got a 70% on this test Eds, did you look over it and figure out some things you did wrong?”

“Yeah,” He nodded and moved a bit closer to you, pulling the test towards him to show you his work, “I think for number 3 i just forgot to carry the 2? And for this one, number 7, i forgot which equation is used for this type of graph so i kind of just winged it…”

“Eddie…” You said to him in the same disappointed voice you’d heard nearly a million times beforehand from your own parents, “we spent the last few sessions studying for this test! I know you’re smarter than just a 70%. Did you ask if you can do anything to bring the grade up?”

“Yes! Mr. Jackson said that if i came back tomorrow with a full corrections sheet on the problems i missed then he’ll give me back half points for all of them.”

“That’s great! See, even he knows you’re smarter than a 70%.”

Eddie smiled to you. He hasn’t really gotten this kind of treatment from someone like you before. You were the same age and he didn’t feel any differently towards you than he did the other people his age. But you were different. You were someone who encouraged him to do his best, even when his best isn’t perfect. He had to admit he had a slight little schoolboy crush on you, but with you being so sweet to him how could he not?

You were smart, independent, someone who knew exactly what you wanted and that’s what he strived for. He wanted to be able to live his life the way you lived yours. Carefree.

The two of you had plenty of conversations that didn’t surround his classes, and from the few things he knew about you he knew you would be a pretty cool person. Hell, if you went to Hawkins with him he could’ve sworn he’d have done better just to be able to go off to college with you and not have to leave your friendship behind.

He liked you. And he was certain that if he knew a little more about you he may even love you.

“Eddie?” You asked him with a giggle, pulling him out of his trance.

“Hm? What?”

“I asked you to show me all the ones you got wrong so we can work on them.” You giggled again.

Situations like this weren’t uncommon with Eddie. Every time he lost his train of thought or get sidetracked you always figured he just had a difficult time paying attention, which is what led to his grades being how they were. But every time you caught him losing track of whatever it was you were saying he had the littlest twinkle in his eye when he was looking at you.

He moved his chair closer to you and flipped through the packet of papers to show you each question he had missed, and thankfully it was only a few.

“Alright, so i know that we’ve gone over a this stuff right before you took this test, i have a couple of things to look through from the other kids i tutor, do you think you can try to do your corrections without my help first?”

“I think i’ll be able to.”

“I think you will too,” You said to him with a smile, “do it yourself first, and when you’re finished i’ll look over it with you to see if you’re still struggling.”

Eddie nodded with a smile and took his papers back, opening up his notebook and turning to a blank page to start on his corrections. You opened up one of your folders and took out a few papers to look over as Eddie started fixing his work. Every now and then you’d glance over at Eddie to check on how things were going and he’d quickly adjust himself in his chair, turning his eyes back onto his paper and working on whatever problem he was stuck on.

You’d give him a little smile each time you looked up, and it was quite cute to see him get a bit flustered. For someone who looked like he did, it was a pleasant surprise for him to act this way.

When you first started tutoring him, you had to admit it was a little nerve wracking. He was older than any other high school student you’ve known, and thought it felt a little strange to be tutoring someone your own age, those feelings soon faded once you really sat and got to know him.

He was kind, passionate, he was someone who had been a lot nicer to you than some of your own peers at school. And you could see from helping him through his classes that he was smart. He had an amazing imagination and he excelled when it came to story building, and it showed in a few of his DnD campaigns he had told you about.

It was just math that he really struggled with.

When you glanced back over at him after looking through and editing another essay from one of the other students, you could see him staring off at the paper in front of him, making little doodles in the corner. He always had the worst attention span. You focused in on the little doodles he was doing in the corners of his paper and it seemed like the strangest thing for him to be drawing.

Hearts. Hearts of all different shapes and sizes, a few with arrows in them, a few big hearts filled with little ones. All of them surrounding one bigger heart, with something scribbled right there in the middle, but before you could get a good look at whatever he has scribbled in the center you went right back into tutor mode,

“Eddie.” You said to him in a stern tone, wii joy getting his attention as he looked over to you, his hand covering up his little doodles in the corner, “I thought you were doing your corrections?”

“I am! I’m just… taking a break.”

You looked over to his notes and saw that he had already worked through three of the questions he missed,

“Tell you what, you get five of those finished and we’ll take a break, ok? Just please try and focus on your work.”

“I will! I’m focusing, see,” He turned the page of his notebook and began working on another problem, “focused.”

You chuckled and went back to your work, looking over the other students papers as Eddie did his best to finish up the last two problems before your break. However, just as you put away one paper to grab the next, you could hear the eraser of Eddie’s pencil tapping onto the paper of his notebook.

You glanced over to him and saw him gently bobbing his head, his lips mouthing out a few words as his curls bounced back and forth, following the rhythm of the eraser against the paper. He had only one more problem to do, but his attention span was really affecting his work.

“Eddie.” You said to him again, stopping his motions as he looked to you once again, “We really have to fix that attention span of yours.” You said with a giggle, reaching over to grab his notebook to check his work, but he quickly snatched it back.

“Wait! I’m not finished yet, one more to go right?”

“Yeah, but if you’re gonna get distracted i can at least check what you have done so far. I’m sure you’re doing fine! Just let me look-“

“No.” He gripped it tightly in his hand.

“What do you mean no? I’m sure you did fine, just let me see.”

You reached your hand out for him to give you the notebook and he reluctantly handed it off to you, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at the desk as you flipped through the pages. You finally found the page with his corrections, the little hearts in the corner were a dead giveaway. It was when you saw what was scribbled in the middle of that big heart that you understood why Eddie was so reluctant to give you the notebook.

There, right in the middle of the heart in his notebook, were your initials. EM + (f/i)(l/i).

You looked over at him in his seat, not giving away any indication that you had spotted the initials, and saw the bright blush on his cheeks.

It was finally starting to click.

The way he had acted around you in the past, the way that he would hang on to every word you said as it left your lips. He had paid attention to every single thing you told him at every tutoring session, and even though he knew this stuff like the back of his hand, he was back every week. With you.

You smiled a bit and giggled to yourself, Eddie glanced over at you with a scared look in his eye. He was hoping it wasn’t him you were laughing at,

“What?”

You slowly closed the notebook and placed it onto the table between you, looking over to him with a smile on your lips,

“You never needed my help with your classes, did you?”

He got silent, his cheeks a bright red, knowing you had him all figured out. He gently shook his head as he looked back down at the table, too embarrassed to look up at you.

A little smile formed on your lips as you thought over all the past tutoring sessions you’d had with him. Each and every time you’d notice his little glances, the way he would pay such close attention to your voice and still have a hard time with his work, and no matter how long you had worked together to bring his grade up he always brought in something new he was struggling with. It all made so much sense, and you felt like an idiot for not being able to notice it before.

He had a crush on you.

He had a crush on his tutor.

You giggled, placing your hand over your lips to try and stifle it, not wanting to embarrass him any more than he already had been,

“I’m sorry, i don’t mean to laugh, i just…” Your mind kept wandering back to all the times you had heard Eddie humming and tapping along on his notebook, each and every time you had heard it, it was all the same melody. The same song. You knew exactly what it was, you just couldn’t put your finger on it,

“What’s that Van Halen song?”

He finally looked up to you, the corners of his lips curling into a gentle smile,

“Which one?”

“You know the one. The one you’ve been humming every time you come to see me?”

“Oh, yeah,” You finally got a laugh out of him, “Hot For Teacher?”

“Yes! That’s it, that’s the one!”

The librarian at the front desk looked over to the two of you and put her finger over her lips, signaling for you both to quiet down. You gave her a nod and a quick and quiet ‘Sorry’ before going back to Eddie,

“You must really like that song, hm?”

“Well…” Now he was getting bashful, “It’s not a favorite, but i always think of it whenever i come to see you.”

You smiled with one another, though Eddie was still unsure of your feelings towards him. You knew he liked you, and though it felt very strange to have one of your students have a crush on you, you knew it was innocent. Hell, if he wasn’t a student you’d go out with him in a heartbeat, but not now. Not like this.

“I think that’s sweet. But you didn’t have to have your grades suffer just to spend time with me, we could’ve always just hung out if you asked.”

He was taken back, eyes widening,

“Really? All i had to do was ask?”

You nod and giggle as he leans back in his chair,

“Well shit, if i knew that i wouldn’t have fucked my algebra grade up this bad.”

“How bad is it?” You asked him, though he gave you no answer, only looking back down at the table, “Eddie.” You said more sternly.

“…63% in the class.”

“Eddie!”

The librarian looked over at you two once more, this time her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. She didn’t even have to say a word for you to quiet down.

“Eddie,” You whispered to him, “you’re so close to graduating, why would you mess your grade up that bad?”

“I don’t know, i just like being able to spend time with you.”

You sighed and smiled to him. Though it was always nice to be able to see him and spend time with him after school in the library, you knew he was so much smarter than this.

“I’ll tell you what, because i know you’re smart enough to get at least an 80% by yourself wirh these corrections and the next few assignments, how about we make a deal?”

He looked to you strangely,

“What kind of a deal?”

You smiled and tore a little piece out of his notebook, grabbing your pen and scribbling down your phone number on it,

“When you graduate, if you get higher than an 80% in this class, i’ll take you out on a date. Sound good?”

He perked up immediately, not expecting you to be so upfront. He nodded quickly, still not being able to say much. He was still a little embarrassed.

“Good. Here,” You handed him the little slip of paper, “if you actually need help with something, go ahead and call me. And make sure you let me know when you graduate ok?” You smiled to him as you saw the pink on his cheeks, he mouthed the number in his hand to himself as you stood up and started collecting your things.

“Wait, are you going?” He asked you as you placed your few notebooks and folders into your bag.

“Eddie, you and i both know you’re smart enough to get all those corrections done on your own.” You stood up from your chair and pushed it in as you slug your bag over your shoulder, “And remember, if you do need help, you have my number.”

He nodded again and straightened himself in his seat, opening up his notebook to the next blank page and starting his corrections once more. All he really needed was a push in the right direction, and he was glad you were the one to help him get there.

You gave each other a smile and a quiet wave as you made your walk out of the library, only to quickly turn back. You approached Eddie once more, pushing his bangs back and giving him a kiss onto his temple,

“You’re gonna do great. This is your year, remember?”

He looked up to you and you could see just how much that meant to him.

After all this time, after everything you’ve heard about him, after all the times you’ve had to get him back on track after getting distracted or showing him the same problem solving methods nearly a hundred times, you still didn’t give up on him. You made him want to work his hardest.

He wanted to finish this year, finally, all for you.

[thebiggerbear]

Something Like This

Summary: A Nor'easter hits Boston and luckily for you, you don't have anywhere you need to be except right here snuggled up with CJ.

A/N: So, I started writing this back in January. We got quite a few snowfalls that month and I had wanted to write some cuddle time with CJ and the reader from the "I hate you" prompt. I wrote about 70% of it but then got distracted due to busy times at work and in life. But after this latest snowfall, I picked it up again and had to finish it. This wasn't originally meant to be for Valentine's Day (obviously) but I changed it up a little since the timing worked out. It's not much but I hope it's alright. Btw, I love snow, just not shoveling it lol.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in any future CJ or Dawson's Creek works.

Sequel to this prompt response

Warnings: pure fluff; implied sex

Word Count: 5995

Please do not do any of the above. Thank you for your understanding.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

CJ Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @illicithallways; @nancymcl; @muhahaha303

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You opened one eye and turned to glance out the window after hearing a low whistle. You watched as snow flakes whipped around in a furious dance against the glass before moving on. “Wow, it’s really coming down out there.”

You felt your boyfriend nuzzling your ear. “Yeah, it is,” he murmured. “Not that I mind.”

You couldn’t help but smile and turn to face him. You saw the blissed out grin gracing his handsome face and the affection in his green eyes as they settled on you. You ran your fingers gently through his hair, making him let out a tiny contented sigh as he burrowed into your neck. 

The meteorologists had predicted a Nor’easter for the weekend, one that was going to produce at least a couple of feet of snow after a 24 hour period, and predictably, people panicked and flooded the stores. Being a college student, you hadn’t needed to make a mad rush to the store to buy bottled water, canned goods, or bread; that was something you normally had in your stash. But the storm was something everyone on campus was talking about. Some students who didn’t want to stick around for the mushy white stuff headed out early on Friday for a warmer (or at least drier) destination. Even some professors had canceled classes in the early afternoon even though it wasn’t supposed to start snowing until well after midnight. During all of this hubbub, CJ had called you and suggested you come stay at his place for the weekend. Considering you didn’t want to get stuck with Stacey and her boyfriend (you had heard her making plans earlier that day) and you hadn’t seen CJ since Tuesday, you were completely on board with that plan.

You had brought what you considered to be your own personal snowstorm kit which consisted of hot chocolate mix (with tiny marshmallows of course), a big cozy blanket, and the warmest pajama set you owned. They may or may not have bunny rabbits dressed in sweaters, hats, and mittens enjoying a snow day on them. And CJ may or may not have laughed and enjoyed teasing you when you put them on Friday night for the first movie of the evening. He hadn’t been laughing long though when he discovered how easily he could unbutton your shirt and get his hands in there or how quickly he could undress you. 

CJ had his own preparations he had made. He had candles, flashlights, the same type of food and drink stash you had with a few differences, blankets, extra pillows, a few movies picked out and ready to go by the TV, and enough Twizzlers to last you the weekend. You had happily kissed him for that last one; he knew how much you loved Twizzlers.

Sure enough, the snow started right after midnight and hadn’t stopped. Boston was covered in a thick white blanket that just kept growing and growing no matter how many plows made their way through the streets. Now it was Saturday afternoon, with the storm halfway over, and it didn’t show any signs of slowing down any time soon. Feeling CJ pressing gentle kisses to your neck, you were just fine with that.

You hummed happily and closed your eyes, enjoying the sensations of his lips on your skin and his hands sneaking under the hem of your shirt to caress your back. “I love this,” you whispered.

“I love you,” he whispered back, making you smile as he worked his way up to your jaw line.

“We just showered and changed the sheets an hour ago,” you whined when you felt his fingers trail from your back to your front, sneaking under the waistband of your pajama pants. 

“I have extra sheets,” he reassured, placing kisses to your cheek and then the corner of your mouth. 

“You’re insatiable,” you teased. He had already had you twice this morning and once last night.

“So, I love having sex with my girlfriend, sue me.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully before pecking your lips.

“We have all weekend,” you reminded him. Thankfully, his roommate had made other arrangements for the impending snowstorm, something you highly suspected CJ had urged him to do. “Besides, I wanted to just snuggle for a while and maybe make out a little.” You pouted up at him.

He studied you for a moment and then let out a chuckle. “Just snuggling and making out, huh?”

You grinned and nodded, loving the sight of his smile. CJ may be an attractive guy with handsome features, but his smile made your heart leap inside your chest every single time. Enough that you were starting to worry that you should probably go to the doctor for a checkup, but damn did you love his smile. Had you been able to see it through the months of phone conversations the two of you had, you probably would’ve been an absolute goner from the get go.    

“Okay,” he sighed and moved his hand out of your pants and flopped onto his back next to you, pulling you further into his arms. “Happy?”

“Very.” You picked up his hand and began to play with his fingers while he kissed the top of your head. His free hand rubbed up and down your back in soothing circles and he let his cheek rest against your hair.

You both stayed quiet for a few minutes and just listened to the wind howling outside every so often.

“You know, Y/N, I never thought I’d be able to have something like this,” he quietly admitted to you. “A relationship with a girl where I’m sober…and happy.” You smiled, squeezing his fingers in between yours. “I had a plan I was sticking to until I graduated and nothing was going to change it. But then I met you.” You glanced up to find him watching you, an affectionate smile on his face. “And it all changed.”

The words should have made something in your chest warm but instead a spike of anxiety flowed through it instead. He was supposed to be in New York City right now, not Boston. He was only here because of you, because he didn’t want to be two states away from you long term though you had promised you would visit if he went. Nope, he decided he was staying here and finishing out his education at Boston Bay no matter what you’d said to try to convince him not to miss out on an important opportunity. As far as he was concerned, he’d made his decision, he was good with it, and it was case closed. 

So, a part of you started to worry but knowing you as well as he did by now, he leaned forward and kissed you until the worry began to fade away. “And I couldn’t be happier that it did,” he whispered to your lips before kissing you again. You felt him shift an arm away from you but before you could look to see what he was doing, he deepened the kiss and you melted into him.

A moment later, he pulled away, making you whine and reach for him when suddenly there was a bouquet of red roses in your face causing your eyes to widen in surprise. CJ was beaming down at you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

Your mouth dropped in shock. You had been so busy the last two weeks, you had completely forgotten the holiday was today. Truthfully, you had never bothered with the holiday before. To you, it was nothing more than a day that Corporate America hijacked to make even more money off of the backs of its consumers. You had never put much stock into it before, not since you reached high school. And now, you had someone you deeply cared about, someone you loved, and you had made the worst mistake you could’ve made by forgetting the holiday while your amazing boyfriend obviously hadn’t. 

“Th-Thank you,” you stammered. He offered the bouquet to you and you gratefully accepted them, leaning them up to your nose to gently sniff their wonderful scent. “They’re beautiful.”

CJ carefully moved to the side and sat up against the headboard, watching you with a grin. “Only the best for my girl.”

“You know I have to ask how.” You had been here since last night and never once had you come across any flowers. Not to mention, there was no way any flower deliveries were being made today. You idly wondered just how much money florists across the city were losing.  

He inclined his head towards the other side of the room. “Mike’s closet.”

You shot him a look of disbelief. “And they survived?”

CJ laughed and gave you a nod. “They did. I’m not going to lie, I checked on them in the middle of the night when you were asleep. I was worried they would be all wilted or that we might have a Little Shop of Horrors situation suddenly on our hands.”

You snickered and sat up next to him. “If it starts asking me for blood, I’m putting it back in Mike’s closet. It can be a very belated Christmas present.”

He shook his head, chuckling, and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “I’m just glad they held up. I got them delivered last night before you got here. I put them in water and when you were in the bathroom before, I took them out, dried them off, and hid them on my side of the bed. They seem to be doing okay.” He studied the flowers to make sure.  

“They’re perfect,” you whispered. They really were. They could have been dying or missing petals or even a cheap bouquet from the convenience store, and they still would have been perfect. No one had ever given you flowers for Valentine’s Day before or any flowers period — no one other than your dad that is. 

CJ smiled over at you and leaned in to kiss you. “I’m glad you like them.”

“They must’ve cost you a fortune, though.”

He waved his free hand dismissively. “Worth it.” He pecked your lips again. “And I made reservations for us for Tuesday night at that seafood place you like.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “The super expensive one?”

He shrugged. “I was going to take you last night but I knew it would be packed. So this way, we avoid the whole crowd of everyone trying to cram in a romantic dinner at the last minute and we can just enjoy ourselves on Tuesday.”

Shame began to unfurl in your chest. He had really thought of everything. Now him lighting the candles last night, the Twizzler stash, him insisting on ordering your favorite takeout — all of it started to make sense in a different way than they first had for the romantic weekend you both were holed up in for the snowstorm. How could you have been so blockheaded not to realize? Granted, you both never talked about what you would want to do for this holiday; it was your first one since you began dating. But you still should have realized. Now CJ had gone all out for you, and you had nothing to give him in return. He had even been thoughtful enough to choose not only your favorite restaurant but a night where it wouldn’t be so crowded since he knew how you felt about being in the same room as a massive amount of people. You had the most amazing and considerate boyfriend and you literally had nothing for him. What a crappy girlfriend you were. 

And due to the snow, you couldn’t even try to make up for it by making plans or reservations to take him anywhere (you would have sat in a crowded restaurant for him if it made him happy), or go to the store to get him anything or even purchase ingredients for a meal you could cook for him. You hadn’t even brought anything sexy to wear to bed for him, just your old comfortable PJ’s. Girlfriend fail indeed.

Your smile started to fade and you glanced up at him worriedly. “CJ…I didn’t…I wasn’t—”

He gently kissed your nose. “I know. We never talked about it and I knew you were busy these last two weeks. I just wanted to do something nice for you. I know how you feel about this holiday and well…I wanted to change that up a little. Give you some good memories.” He stroked a petal of the rose closest to him before turning a warm smile on you.

You could feel a familiar stinging in the corner of your eyes. He remembered what you’d told him in one of your many phone conversations when you’d been getting to know each other. You’d been discussing each holiday and sharing both of your thoughts when it came to each one. You didn’t care for Valentine’s Day and when he asked why, you surprised yourself by telling him the truth. In high school, every year, roses were for sale. You could choose between red, pink, and yellow ones; they were approximately five dollars each. You could give it to the person (or people) you bought them for directly, leave it taped to their lockers, or have them delivered to the class they were in. And each year, you were one of two people out of your whole class who never received any. You weren’t a social outcast by any means but you weren’t part of the whole cliques business, preferring to do your own thing. No boy was interested in you and while you had friends, they weren’t the type to buy yellow roses for all of their friends on that day. You and Charlotte Campbell never received a rose in any capacity. And that only held true until junior year when finally you couldn’t take the sad expression on Charlotte’s face anymore as she watched deliveries being made in class, knowing that she was going to be crying her eyes out in the girl’s bathroom before next period, and you did something about it. You ignored the shocked look on Justine Helman’s face when you purchased a pink rose and gave her instructions on where and when to deliver it. The surprised and grateful smile on Charlotte’s face later in History class when a student had delivered the rose to her had been worth it. So much so that you repeated the process in senior year. You had no idea if she ever figured out they were from you (Justine was known to be quite the busybody), but you hoped that regardless, it gave her a little bit of happiness in that moment each time the holiday rolled around.

And from there you slowly began to realize that the holiday was an excuse for florists, candy companies, greeting card companies, condom companies (CJ chuckled at that one but didn’t disagree), lingerie departments and boutiques, jewelry stores, and movie studios and TV stations to make more money. Like one big conspiracy they all partook in for the almighty dollar. So, every time the holiday came around, you rolled your eyes and refused to even acknowledge it. If you loved someone and they loved you, you didn’t need a corporate-infused holiday and two empty bank accounts to show it. That’s where you had stood on the holiday of love and you were determined to keep that stance for the rest of your life.

But then you started dating CJ and now…now you were ready to tear up because he had remembered what you’d said and wanted you to have a good memory on this day for once. You launched yourself at him, kissing him passionately while being careful not to crush the flowers. “I love you,” you whispered when you both needed air.

He moved his hands up to your cheeks and wiped tears away with his thumbs. You had no idea they had escaped. “I love you, too.” His brows drew together as he studied your face. “This was okay, right?”

CJ had never celebrated the holiday with someone either. He’d never been in a relationship when it would roll around on the calendar before this one. So this was his first time acknowledging it, too, to anyone outside of family and friends. 

You gave him the most grateful smile you could. “Yeah. More than okay.” You could see the relief playing over his expression. You reached behind you to gently place the flowers on his nightstand and turned back to him, cupping his face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’m really glad you like it.” His soft smile made a leaping sensation happen in your chest.

“Like it?” A glimmer of worry shined in his green eyes. “Oh, you are so getting laid right now, pal.” You started to pull him to you as you leaned back onto the bed. He laughed but it got cut short by you kissing him deeply. You moaned into his mouth when he settled in between your thighs and you cradled his hips with your legs. You began to hurriedly unbutton your top when his hands stopped you and he lifted up for air. 

“Wait, wait.” You gulped for air, watching him intently, wondering why he was stopping you. “As badly as I want this, and it’s really, really badly, I actually have a plan.”

You arched your brows in question. “A plan?”

A small raw sound escaped his throat as you rubbed up against him, feeling him growing impossibly harder. “Yep. Damn, I’m going to have to start thinking about Kierkegaard, aren’t I?” 

You had been smirking, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as you continued to tease him, when that caught your attention. “Kierkegaard?”

He nodded emphatically, his eyes closed, as he tried to pull away from you but you locked your legs around him. “Yeah,” he nearly moaned out as you grinded against his erection.

“CJ,” you called in your most seductive voice, a tone that you knew drove him crazy, as he’d told you one night after phone sex during finals week. That had been the first time you’d attempted it and boy, had that turned out to be one fun evening.

You both had been stressed and unable to make time for one another, so you’d taken the situation by the ‘nads, literally. You were nervous; you weren’t sure if this would be something he liked or if you would screw up or if you would sound horrifically laughable. Before you could chicken out, you’d called him up one night near the end of his shift.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

“Hello, CJ. I seem to be having a problem that I think only you can help with.”

“Oh? And what’s that, Jo?” You could hear the smile in his voice, having recognized yours right away. You felt a little bit of a thrill at him using your old name; it just added to the excitement of what you were about to do.

“Well, the thing is, my boyfriend and I haven’t had much time to see one another. Finals, you know?”

“Yeah, finals week can be brutal.”

“Mmm, you know what else is brutal? We haven’t had sex in almost two weeks.”

It took him a moment to respond and in that time, you wondered if maybe you had already screwed things up. Perhaps you shouldn’t have started this while he was on shift. Perhaps you had made him uncomfortable or you sounded like an idiot as you had feared, probably both. You were just about to backtrack when he quietly cleared his throat. “That does sound pretty brutal. Maybe you two should make some special plans to remedy that once finals are over.”

Relieved, you let out a drawn out sigh into the phone. “But that’s at the end of the week. I’m not sure I can wait that long. I’ve tried taking care of things myself, you know? But it’s not the same.”

“Well, perhaps you’re not using that…method correctly. Maybe you should tell me what it is you’re doing and we can figure it out together why it’s not working. Don’t leave out a single detail. I’m here to help.”

You smirked and shook your head. “Well, that’s sort of what I was thinking, CJ,” you played along. “But, I don’t think that it’s anything I’m doing wrong in the process. I think it’s that my boyfriend isn’t present when I do it. So, I was thinking maybe you could pretend to be him while I do it and we’ll see if maybe that will help, you know?”

“Whatever you need. That’s what I’m here for.” You could hear his voice getting deeper and you felt a flipping sensation in your stomach. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” you whispered huskily. “How much longer do you have before we can do this experiment?”

“I’ve got ten minutes left.” He then lowered his voice. “I can be at your place in twenty.”

Oh God, you would have loved for him to come by but Stacey and her worse half were expected to walk through the door in the next hour and you wanted to continue this game for lack of a better word. “Uh, uh, uh. No can do, CJ. My boyfriend wouldn’t like it and we’re supposed to do this over the phone. You’re helping me so I can make it through the next week until I see him again, remember?”

“But if my shift is over in ten then how—”

“Now, CJ, I believe we exchanged room numbers, didn’t we? In case I ever needed your help outside of your hours at the helpline?” You then lowered your voice again. “And, baby, I really need your help on this one.”

You heard a quiet gulp on the other end of the line. “R-Right. You know, Seth just walked in so I’m going to clock out early and head home. I’ll call you when I get there, it should be no more than ten minutes, give or take.”

“Make it seven,” you huskily commanded before hanging up the phone. You snickered, wondering if he would literally run those three blocks to his dorm if he had to. Sure enough, when he called you eight minutes later, panting and breathing out, “I’m here. I’m here,” you knew you had been right. That had been one explosive night and you had not only discovered something new about yourself but you also discovered something new about him as well. You liked to tease him and be in charge sometimes; he liked being teased and he liked for you to be in charge sometimes. Win-win and it had done wonders for your confidence in the bedroom. You had certainly never done anything like that with anyone else. That was another thing you loved about him. CJ allowed you the room to explore and you felt completely safe with him to do so. 

There may or may not have been a few more illicit call-ins at the end of his shift, and there may or may not have been another week or two that you purposely didn’t see each other so it could lead to fantastic phone sex, desperate and passionate sex when you reunited, or both. 

So now, you decided to use that tone on him once more. “Why are you trying to pull away? I want this really badly, too.” You gently dragged your nails down his bare chest down to his navel, knowing how he loved it when you did that. Sure enough, you heard a tiny gasp coming from him. You lifted up to whisper in his ear, “You can still have your plan but let’s do this first. Come on, CJ, I know you want this just as much as I do.” You nibbled at his ear lobe. “So, I love having sex with my boyfriend, sue me.” You couldn't help teasing him by repeating his words back to him.  

His eyes snapped open and he gently pushed you back on the bed, his hands carefully pinning your shoulders down and his chest heaving in and out. You could see his pupils were blown wide with lust. You knew then if you just nudged him a little more, he’d give in and you wouldn’t leave this bed for the rest of the day. “I really want this but I also want you to see the rest of my plan just as much. And we need energy for it. I’m more than willing to give you what you want later but right now, let’s go see what I’ve got planned first, okay?”

You gave him the sad puppy dog expression as he called it, and predictably it made him chuckle. “Okay,” you agreed. Considering how much trouble he’d gone to in order to surprise you on this holiday, you’d do as he asked and stop teasing him. You unhooked your legs from his waist and he released your shoulders. He began to lean down to kiss you in thanks but he seemed to think better of it and lifted his head once more. 

“So, what’s the plan?” You asked.

“Did you happen to bring gloves and a hat in that huge bag of yours?”

Your eyes widened and then narrowed. “Why?”

He grinned down at you and ran a tender thumb along your cheek.

CJ had told you to get dressed and to bundle up. You had begrudgingly done so, not happy that you were obviously leaving the warm cocoon you had both been in since the storm started, but it was what he wanted and you were intent on giving him anything he desired today. Sure enough, he led you out of his dorm and down the street. The thick snowflakes were still coming down steadily but at least the wind wasn’t as bad as it had been earlier. It was almost peaceful, your gloved hand in CJ’s, you two being the only ones out and about. The lack of sounds of city life and the white landscape painted a picture that was beyond beautiful. 

You came to a stop near a park and CJ turned a smile onto you before trudging inward, bringing you along. He settled on an open spot and let your hand go. “Remember when you told me about those snow days you used to have?”

Your lips parted in shock. He really did remember almost everything you told him. You should be used to it by now but it still managed to surprise you every once in a while. Back then, you had no idea just how much he looked forward to your phone calls and how much he truly enjoyed talking to you as you got to know one another. 

You had told him about the snow days you had from elementary school, the rare ones where you would get more than a foot of snow. You didn’t have any siblings and your dad, who was usually busy with work, would take you outside to do all kinds of fun things. You made snowmen, you had snowball fights, you would go sledding…he had even made you a small snow fort once. Afterwards, you would both go inside and your mom would have steaming mugs of hot cocoa with marshmallows waiting. Those days were some of your best childhood memories.

CJ grinned over at you and then began to make the bottom part of a snowman. You let out a tiny squeal of excitement and hurried over to help him, earning you a laugh. 

It wasn’t long before you had the snowman built. CJ reached into his pockets and pulled out buttons, a carrot, and an old pipe that he told you he had managed to buy this week when you asked where he’d gotten them from. You felt that familiar warmth in your chest when you realized that he really had been planning this longer than a day or two. Again, you felt horrible that you had been so oblivious and that you had nothing in return for him. You were resolved that you were going to make this up to him, though. Big time. He could pick all the movies you would watch for the next month. You would play all the mini golf he wanted (when the weather cleared up of course). You would let him choose the takeout and restaurants for however long he wanted. You would do everything he wanted to do and give him whatever he wanted.

He placed the items on the snowman and slipped out a beanie hat to finish off the look. He stood back with you as you both studied your creation.

“Something’s missing,” you wondered aloud.

“Sticks for arms? I can find some.”

“No…something else.” It finally hit you and you removed the scarf from around your neck, the one CJ had lent you, and wrapped it around the snowman’s. “There.” You beamed over at your boyfriend. “All done,” you informed him in a singsong voice. CJ smiled warmly at you and his eyes held a familiar gleam of affection as he stepped forward. He removed the scarf from the snowman, making you frown. “Hey! Now he’s incomplete again.”

He took a step closer to you and shook the scarf of any snow remnants, gently wrapping it around your neck once more. “You need it more than he does,” he murmured, placing a tender kiss on your nose. 

You couldn’t help but smile at his sweet gesture. You lifted up to kiss him when he took a few steps away from you, making your brows furrow. He grinned and suddenly fell backwards, making you gasp and hurry over, falling to your knees beside him. “CJ, are you alright?”

He chuckled and looked up at you. “What was the last part of the story you told me?” He began to move his arms and legs in a familiar motion. 

“Snow angels,” you whispered.

He continued making one and you crawled a little distance away to plop onto your back and make one of your own. You couldn’t help giggling as you did it. God, this was amazing. Why had you ever stopped doing this once you were no longer a little kid? Why weren’t there any other adults out here, minus children, doing the same? This was incredible.

You had just finished making your snow angel when CJ’s face appeared in your vision. His smile rivaled yours. 

“You ruined your snow angel, silly,” you teased, knowing it wasn’t intact from him crawling from nearby over to you. 

He shrugged. “I don’t need it, not when I’ve got the real deal right here.”

Seeing his eyes intent on you, you knew it wasn’t just some cheesy line he was using on you. As much as you loved him, there was a part of you that didn’t understand the reverence he looked at you with sometimes. You didn’t feel you deserved it and sometimes it scared you that he might have put you on a pedestal that you were destined to fall from, being human and all. But when you would remind him of your imperfections, he would simply shrug and remind you that he wasn’t perfect either. He didn’t want perfection; he wanted real, something like what you already had. “Although, I’ve got to say, you’re pretty damn close to perfect,” he’d murmured in your ear. You had gently swatted his shoulder, which made him laugh, and he’d given you a tender smile. “Perfect for me,” he added. You had kissed him thoroughly for that sentiment and he had nuzzled you as you both settled in to watch whatever horror movie he had picked out.

You now lifted your arm up to grab hold of the collar of his coat to pull him slowly down to you. You pressed your lips to his and heard his hands settling on either side of your head, anchoring him so he could keep his weight off of you. “Thank you for today,” you whispered. 

His smile grew bigger. “You’re welcome.”

You bit your lip nervously. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything planned for you. I didn’t even think… But I’m going to fix that. Starting this week. I’m going to—”

He kissed you again, effectively shutting you up. “Today has been a good day for me, too. I don’t want anything else so don’t worry about it.”

You gave him a look. “But that doesn’t make up for—”

“Tell you what, how about we head back to the dorms, get some hot chocolate going, and then you can make it up to me.” He gave you that all too familiar salacious smirk.

“CJ,” you laughed. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

You thought it over for a moment, studying him intently, seeing the red in his cheeks and nose from the cold, and tiny snowflakes hanging from his eyelashes. “Okay,” you agreed. “But we need to do one thing first.”

His smirk grew into a triumphant one. “What’s that?”

You instantly scooped up snow on your right and gently hit the side of his head, causing the snow to fall down the left side of his face and onto you, making you twist and squirm underneath him to keep most of the mess from pelting you. 

CJ glanced down at you in shock, one half of his face covered in snow, his beanie completely saturated with it. You laughed and he immediately caged you in between his arms. “Oh, you’re going to get it.”

You hit him with another snowball and as he recovered, you crawled out from underneath him, laughing. You had just gotten to your feet to run when he tackled you, making you shriek, and began to pelt you with snow. An all out snowball war ensued and you couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed that much. Eventually, CJ won (you let him win though you would never tell him that) and he hovered over you, snow covering every inch of him, smugly smiling down at you. Now, this was perfection. You had never seen a more beautiful sight and your heart had that leaping sensation in your chest again. You hoped that no matter how old you got one day, you never lost this memory. Not only of how he looked but also how much you truly loved him in this moment. 

You lifted up and kissed that smugness right off of his face. It wasn’t long before you were back at the dorms and he had snuck you into the showers with him, promising hot chocolate after you both got warmed up. As the hot water rained down on you both, you gasped as he teased you from behind, his hands roaming all over you. You turned in his arms to face him and wrapped yours around his neck to keep steady. You gasped again when he picked you up, urging you to wind your legs around his waist, and moved you under the spray so he could use the tile wall behind you as leverage.

CJ kissed you deeply, neither of you minding the water trickling down over your faces. He broke away and stared into your eyes. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he murmured.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you whispered back to him, smiling, before his lips covered yours once more. You quickly thought back over everything from today and his words came back to you. “You know, Y/N, I never thought I’d be able to have something like this.” “A relationship with a girl where I’m sober…and happy.” The truth was you never thought you’d be able to have something like this either. But you did; you had it. And like CJ had also said, you had never been happier.

[jungle-angel]

The One With The Holy Hand Grenade Of Antioch (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Something happens at a Friday night rager but Rhett and his frat brothers decide they're not gonna get mad.....they're gonna get even

Warnings: Sexual harassment, grabbing of a boob, frat boy revenge etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @attapullman

The Delta Tau Epsilon house was alive with the booming of music, the hollers and shouts of the drunken college students filling every corner of the house and the shenanigans that had followed them there.

The basement was no less than noisy with everybody packed shoulder to shoulder, dancing to the 70s, 80s, 90s and Early 2000s throwback music that boomed from the speakers. Beer and drinks spilled from red solo cups and onto unsuspecting freshman while a few sang along noisily to Sly And The Family Stone's "Thank You" and showing off their best disco moves.

You were behind the bar in the basement helping Cairo make everyone's drinks and enjoying the shenanigans yourself.

"I swear to Jesus, if Kyle ends up emptying the whole keg I'm gonna have to cut him off," Cairo remarked.

"Cai c'mon they're a bunch of drunken frat boys, what else are they gonna do?" you laughed.

"Oh I'll tell ya'll what I'm gonna do," he answered, laughing a little and snapping his fingers. "Imma come up into his room with a garbage can lid and give him the rudest awakening of his life!"

You laughed as you cracked open a Long Drink and filled a red solo cup with it, handing it off to one of the football players.

"Need a refill!" Foster teased, slamming his cup onto the bar.

"Sorry Babes, bar's closed!" Cairo joked.

"It's not even midnight!"

The two of them bickered back and forth as more barflies began to make their way over. You laughed when you had to spray one of the Iota Nu boys with the keg nozzle to shoo him away, the others around you laughing in return.

"Hey pretty thing,"

You turned around thinking it was Rhett but no. To your horror it was Smithfield Green, the leader of the notorious Alpha Beta fraternity. You felt your heart jump into your chest and your throat going dry when you saw him.

"Sorry Smitty, bar's closed," you told him.

"Not by the looks of it around here," he sniffed. "Don't suppose you wanna get outta here and I could show you a really good time?"

"No thanks, I'm all set."

"Oh c'mon you know you wanna....."

You yelped a little when he tried to grab your boob which quickly caught Cairo's attention. "Hey!" he shouted. "The fuck do you think you are?"

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Smitty retorted.

"I fuckin asked you first."

"Think you're so tough there huh?" Smitty questioned. "You sound like a fuckin girl."

"I might sound like a girl but I could easily have you on the ground and your balls dangling from the bumper of my car," Cairo hissed.

"Oh I'm sure you'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Eat me pervert," Cairo sneered. "And if I ever catch you trying to touch (y/n) ever again, that just might happen."

Smitty laughed and sauntered away with Cairo flipping him off behind his back. "You ok hon?" he asked.

You nodded, still a little shaken by what had happened. "I think I need to go get some air for a minute," you told him.

"Go get some air, I'll finish up here," Cairo assured you, giving you a hug.

He waited until you disappeared before waving and snapping his fingers, motioning for Foster to come over to the bar.

"Yo what's up?" Foster asked him.

"Smitty tried to pull a fast one on the First Lady," Cairo answered.

"Are you fuckin serious?!" Foster exclaimed.

"No, I'm not......chain call, now!"

Foster nodded, slapping his palm on the bar before heading up the basement stairs to find someone to start the chain call. He quickly wrote down what had happened on a sticky note so that word wouldn't change going up, finding Bo and Kyle in the little room off the basement bar room, engaging in a rather intense game of Cards Against Humanity with a few other freshmen.

"Yo we've got a Code Red boys," Foster told them.

"Sup?" Bo asked.

Foster showed him the note and the two were off to find the next person. The message traveled to Ravi Sharma who then handed it off to two of the new pledges and then to Sammy Inoue. Up and up and up the chain it went until Rowdy Collins, the football team's new kicker, raced up the stairs to hand it off to Kayce.

"Kayce!" he announced, pounding on the door.

Kayce opened the door, zipping up his jeans. "Bro what the fuck?"

"We've got a Code Red, go get Rhett."

"What's the Code Red?"

Rowdy showed him the neon green sticky note that had been passed around. Kayce's eyes went wide, his jaw slack with shock. "You fuckin serious?"

"She's outside in the backyard," Rowdy explained.

Kayce hurried off to Rhett's room down the hall and pounded on the door. "Bro you're never gonna believe this," Kayce told him when he opened the door.

"What? Did somebody get beer up their nose again?" Rhett asked him.

"No it's (y/n)," Kayce answered, showing him the note.

Rhett read the message, his eyes going wide. "Where is she?"

"Out back."

Rhett hurried his way through the chaos of the rager with Kayce close behind him. The night air was still just a little bit chilly as he sat down beside you, pulling you close and kissing the side of your head.

"You ok?" he asked.

"I'm fine," you told him. "Just a little shaken that's all."

Rhett kissed the side of your head again, holding you as he kept his lips pressed to that spot. "It'll be ok darlin," he assured you. "Ain't nobody ever gonna do that ever again."

**************************

The clang of the old ship's bell in the kitchen roused everyone in the house from their sleep, the house's residents clambering down the stairs, some still in their shorts, others in their mismatched pjs or a few still in their clothes from the night before. All of them lined right up and stood straight at attention as Rhett strode silently up and down the line.

"Alright boys," he announced. "Last night, it seems there was a little incident regarding the First Lady. Anybody recall what happened?"

Foster was the first to raise his hand. "First Lady was groped by Smitty Green at 10:02 pm in the Delta Tau basement, no injuries or marks but the boob in question was indeed grabbed by said parasite......SIR!"

"And do we let slimy little Alpha Betas like that grope our other halves?" Rhett questioned.

"FUCK NO!!!!" the Deltas thundered.

"Men," he continued, pacing up and down the line. "When ya'll were pledges, ya'll took an oath to protect your lady or your other half with your life. I know every single one o' ya'll would never do that to a lady or to anybody else. But those slimy little tapeworms think they can just crawl on in here and take whatever they want. So what are we gonna do about it boys?!"

"GIVE 'EM HELL!!!!"

"That's what I wanna hear!" Rhett bellowed. "Now lets go get'em!"

The Deltas let out their loudest war yells in response, shaking the house down to the studs as they charged off.

***************************

The street was completely silent outside the Alpha Beta house with not a soul around, save for a sun tanner on the rooftop balcony.

Each of the boys in the Delta Tau fraternity marched across the street to the Alpha Beta house, the hoods on their sweatshirts pulled over their heads and an empty plastic binder in their hands. Their voices had become one as they chanted like monks walking towards holy ground.....or in this case, unholy ground.

“Pie Iesu Domine, dona eis requiem,” they chanted, hitting their foreheads with the binders.

They repeated the little ritual with Rhett and Kayce leading them in the front, the two of them biting their lips as they tried not to laugh. As soon as they had reached the front of the Alpha Beta house, they faced their brothers who had halted on the other side of the street.

"KNEEL MY BROTHERS!!!" Rhett commanded.

All of them knelt and bowed their heads to the ground. Rhett and Kayce removed their hoods first before the others followed suit.

"Brother Kayce," Rhett announced.

"Yes?"

"Bring forth the holy book of the Delta Taus."

Kayce pulled out the book that had been written by all the other Deltas who had come before them. "A reading from the book of Armaments, chapter two, verses nine through twenty-one," Kayce announced, reading as loudly as he could. ""And Saint Attila raised the hand grenade up on high, saying, 'O Lord, bless this thy hand grenade, that with it thou mayst blow thine enemies to tiny bits, in thy mercy.' And the Lord did grin. And the people did feast upon the lambs, and sloths, and carp, and anchovies, and orangutans, and breakfast cereals, and fruit bats, and large chulapas..."

"THE SHORTENED VERSION DIPSHIT!!!!" Rhett commanded.

"Right, right, gotcha," Kayce snickered. "And the Lord spake, saying, ''First shalt thou take out the Holy Pin. Then shalt thou count to three, no more, no less. Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch towards thy foe, who, being naughty in My sight, shall snuff it.'"

The brothers all arose and pulled out the huge water balloons from the bags at their sides.

"Gentlemen!" Rhett ordered. "Ready your weapons!"

The Deltas made ready.

"Step to the edge!"

They stepped to the edge of the sidewalk.

"FIRE AT WILL!!!" Rhett ordered.

With a swing of their arms, the Deltas lobbed the entire house with the huge water balloons, startling the Alpha Betas who had come outside to see the commotion, only to be soaked with the freezing cold water, including Smitty himself.

"Whatcha think darlin?" Rhett asked.

You pulled your hood from your eyes and placed a kiss on Rhett's lips. "Best revenge plan ever," you chuckled.

Rhett helped you load a rather large water balloon into the slingshot the boys only really ever used at pool parties, sending it flying right onto Smitty who quickly ran back into the house. So far, this had been yours and Rhett's best plan ever.

[1americanconservative]

Patrick Bet-David Noticing Some Amazing Coincidences With These College Protests, Things Like Both Election Year Protests started around the same time: The George Floyd BLM riots happened in May 2020 Now in May 2024, College Protests are happening The media is repeating the exact same lines, “If one student dies” David “If one student dies, it's as if they want this” “The date is May 26th, you can Google this, 2020, when George Floyd died and all they needed was a story like that. They need chaos. Today is May 2nd. We are roughly a little over three weeks away from that date with George Floyd.” Now Breaking Down The Money Trail: Do you know what percentage of the revenue that Harvard got in their endowment in 2021 came from actual tuition of students trying to get a degree from Harvard? Tuition, degree, Harvard. What do you think it is? A lot of people say, well, $60,000, $70,000 a year. $80,000, that's how they make their money. Really? Only 10% of their endowment came from actually doing their job, educating students. Do you know 39% came from donations? Do you know 10% came from gifts? Do you know nearly 49% of the money Harvard got in 2021 is from donations and gifts? Only 10% is from students. So let me ask you a question. Let's paint a picture here. Let's just say, let's just say the professor of Harvard, the dean, the president of Harvard, of Columbia, their assistant says, Mr. President, we have two people waiting for you on hold. Line one is, your number one student's parents. How much money did they give us last year? I think outside of the tuition, around $300,000. Who's on line two? George Soros. Oh, oh, tell Mr. Jackson, the number one student's parents, I'll call him back. Please put Mr. Soros through. Hello, Mr. Soros. How can we help you? Oh, because you gave so much money and da-da-da-da-da and all these other endowment money being given to them. FYI, let me go a little bit deeper for you. Do you know China, since 2019, 2018, they've given roughly $400 million to universities in America. Do you know what university they gave the most money to? 70 million went to Harvard. Who's Harvard's number one customer? Students? Or these people that are giving massive donations to them, who's their number one customer? It's very strange when you sit there and you ask yourself, why are they doing nothing about it? Why are they okay with Palestine flags going up and not America's flag going up? It's because we're not asking the right question. The moment we find out who the number one customer is, that gives the most money, it gives you a lot of perspective to realize, if you ran A, you do construction, you're a general contractor. You have two clients. One of them gave you $50 million of business to big buildings last year. The other one gave you $10 million. Which client is more important to you? So why are people confused? These professors, these professors that we're all trusting our kids with who hate America, we're supposed to spend that kind of money and send our kids there that are being controlled by the people that are giving the donations who hate America, and we're supposed to be okay with that. Yeah, I think we're naive. I think we need to start exposing and talking about some of this stuff. I'm going to put the link below for you to watch. But I wonder. Who do you think, from all the stuff that I just said to you, who do you think is their number one customer? You? The students? The parents? Or those people that are giving the most donation to these guys? I don't think it's a tough question to ask, but I want to ask you, what do you think? Comment below.” This is a summary of what’s being said, there’s much more good details in the video.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Lore: Music

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. There's a lot of lore; I don't know everything. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

Useful for bards and priests, one assumes. I had to look up so many songs I'd never heard of to have a clue what half the comparisons were...

Musical education in the Realms (plus what the core Colleges (Lore and Valor) translate to in the Realms (where they aren't called that))

Musical vocabulary

Instruments

Music itself, including: operatic, 'symphonic'-ish, renaissance-style, hymns, 70s folk bands, and 70s rock music. [Popular music | Hymns | Opera | Demihuman traditions] (we got music that sounds like Leonard Cohen, Sinéad O'Connor, 70s folk music, 50s folk music, ELO, Genesis...)

Education

The majority of trained musicians, including bards, start off being apprenticed to accomplished bards willing to tutor, and some seek out Bardic Colleges. The exact focus, quality and curriculum varies by the institution.

To be admitted one must have some experience performing, and be able to pass an audition. They will perform before one of the master bards of the college, as well as one 'invisible' listener they're unaware of. Both masters must agree that the candidate is worth teaching or not for admission, if they don't agree further auditions will follow until they do agree on a verdict.

'Low-order' colleges generally concentrate on mastery of pitch, timbre and nuance. Students are taught to sing scales and perfectly duplicate overheard notes and tunes with their voice, as well as memorizing a set of tunes on a range of instruments to familiarise themselves with different keys and methods. The crafting and repair of one form of instrument is also part of the training.

'High-order' colleges offer a wider range of instruments and repertoire, teaching the history behind the music and lyrics, as well as some language tutoring - not necessarily to speak the language, but to be able to sing such songs perfectly.

New students to any college will be taught the basics in classes at first, but very soon will be passed onto a tutor for one-on-one tutoring.

Pretty much all official colleges in the Realms would make you a College of Lore bard in core DnD terms.

What is called The College of Valor does not actually involve colleges, and is found amongst warrior cultures like Orcs or the Illuskan Northmen, Uthgardt and Reghed: skalds - warrior poets, lorekeepers and clan storytellers.

The most prestigious colleges are the College of Fochlucan in Silverymoon, an ancient bardic tradition which I assume from the name is supposed to be from Ffolk tradition (the Moonshaes). This college has close ties to the Harpers, though most members will stress that their mission and activities are separate to avoid being targeted by the Harpers' enemies.

The College of the Herald is also found in Silverymoon and was founded by a Harper in 922 DR to preserve history. The college maintains a strict neutrality towards the conflicts of the world, and its focus is on preservation of history, folklore and legend over music.

The College of New Olamn, once Ollamh, another ancient bardic tradition, is in Waterdeep, established in 1366 by wealthy patrons of the arts.

On a less formal level, priests of Milil are charged with spreading music and teaching as many as possible to play and sing, and followers of EIlistraee are to 'nurture beauty, music, the craft of making musical instruments, and song wherever they find it.'

Vernacular

'Minstrelsy' is a term for live music, not including hymns and holy music. Recorded music does exist, though mostly in the form of spells that exist to capture and play the song back on command. People like to use them for study, meditation, fun, etc. If you don't have access to magic, due to cost or general mistrust of the stuff, the Gondians have invented music boxes. You can also get those jewellery boxes with the spinning dancer that play music when they open.

A 'song' is monophonic performance or piece, consisting pof a single vocalist with no instrumental accompaniment.

'Allsong' is the term for polyphonic pieces; covering vocals with instrumental accompaniment, multiple singers such as choirs, and orchestras.

'Newclang' is recent music that starts playing with or breaking conventions. May be viewed as a brilliant invention or modern pop garbage, depending on your tastes.

'song-cycles': 'extended stories told by ballads being sung in a particular sequence. Most of these are 'later inventions,' concocted by a minstrel or bard stringing together their personal favourites (or tunes that they could perform well, and that were popular with paying audiences) into a story of sorts, and then knitting them together with altered lyrics, additional linking songs, and sometimes short spoken-word orations, into the tale of one hero's life, or a romance, or the reign of a villainous king, or the saga of a fearsome dragon or other predatory monster (and its eventual defeat).'

If the performance is 'wordless' then there are no sung lyrics. There might be vocalisations along with the music, but as per the name, no words.

The concept of sorting music into genres apparently hasn't much occurred to anybody yet; music is music in most people's eyes. Historical music trends are named after popular artists of the time. Still you have lammuer (slow waltzes), whirls (reels) and tonsets (courtly formal dances).

There is no standard agreed upon scale that is used by the whole of the Realms.

-

Instruments

The instruments most frequently seen in the hands of common minstrels are lutes and harps. Bells, clapping or stamping one's feet, rhythm sticks and a small wooden pipe akin to a penny whistle serve as accompaniment, and for major percussion instruments you have hand drums and 'great drums' (kettle drums).

Ocarinas, kazoos and mouth harps are pretty common.

Yarting: An acoustic guitar, basically, with origins in Amn and Calimshan, but variations exist everywhere.

Songhorn: Recorders

Straele: A violin-like instrument, shaped a bit like a metronome and played cradled in one arm (preferably while sitting).

Great staele: Cellos and basses

Drone: A large, stationary double-reed instrument with a bladder and several mouthpieces, played by multiple musicians and sounding either like the drones of a bagpipe or an organ or synthesizer.

Jassaran: a crude 'keyboard-and-wires' instrument invented in Sembia that sounds something like a harpsichord.

Artang: A dulcimer, though artangs are only plucked or bowed.)

Shawm: A gnomish instrument that's something like an oboe or bassoon in form. There's also a bellows powered variant.

Zulkoon: A Thayan pump organ. Pipe organs also exist.

Tantan: tambourines. Popular with halflings.

Longhorns: flutes

'Birdpipes' or Shalm: pan pipes. Most popular with Lliirans and elves, particularly copper and green elves.

Tocken: carved oval bells set to hang so that they can be lightly struck. Instruments such as this are found in subterranean cultures (Dwarves and goblins, mostly). The sound echoes through the structures.

Glaur: Basically a trumpet (more specifically it sounds like a renaissance instrument called a serpent), shaped something between a cornucopia and a saxophone.

Gloon: Much like a glaur, but lacking in valves and it produces a markedly mournful sound.

'Whistlecanes' or thelarr: The bane of parents. Basically just a cut reed you can whistle with. People like to give them to children, who do as children do and proceed to give everybody ear aches from badly played instruments.

-

Music

With a note that a lot of the following kind of applies to the Sword Caoast, Heartlands, Cormyr, Dalelands and etc. Different regions of Faerûn have different music. The kind of Thayan music you'd hear in alehouses in East Faerûn, for example, apparently sounds like this. (Songs with such tunes are called 'thaeraeden,' or 'life laments', and the lyrics are often melancholy questions and challenges. Usually break up songs and unrequited love, the usual.)

So, switching out more modern instruments like drumkits and electric guitars, this is the kind of music you'd apparently expect to hear from minstrels, street and tavern performers and etc. This is basically turning on the radio:

Popular ballads and songs sound something like:

These: X, X, X, X,

Stuff like Leonard Cohen. X

1970s folk music, like Steeleye Span and Maddie Prior. Like the Prickle Eye Bush X, X.

Tongue-in-cheek songs like the Irish Ballad are popular with the working class. I feel like that one specifically would be popular with drow and Bhaalspawn, personally.

'Easy listening' being played in the background while you're passing the evening at a tavern sounds like standard Renaissance fare like Packington's Pound and My Thing is My Own.

Dance music would sound something like this: X

The kind of music you're likely to hear at an upper class party is going to be bringing in musicians and possibly orchestras and dancing. Stuff like this: X, X, X, X,

Orchestral music doesn't utilise strings very much, and prefers to use vocalisation in its place. You generally get more stuff like this.

-

The Opera

Inasfar as I can tell, the opera is exactly what you expect.

The most famous/popular operas include:

'the War of Three Castles:' Featuring a bunch of kings throwing their sons and daughters off to lead armies against each other. Disaster strikes, two princes and a princess are trapped in a tomb in the Underdark and a love triangle ensues. The princess decides fuck that nonsense, she will have both or neither but she's not having this drama, and they work out a polyamorous relationship, and agree that they will go home and have a 'marriage of three crowns' where they all marry each other, even if their fathers may try to stop them or execute them for it. Then they get back up there, discover that their fathers have been killed turning the entire region into a war torn region. They recover what is left, and they get married and unite their kingdoms in peace and like happily ever after.

'Alvaericknar:' The lovable rogue archetype who shares his name with the title bites off more than he can chew trying to rob a lich - who kills him. But he's prepared for that, and due to ensuring that the lich killed him in a spot that would set of several enchantments he manages to come back as undead, and proceeds to continue his hijinks. 'As an undead, he goes right on being a swindling, fun-loving rascal, only now he doesn’t need food or drink or shelter.'

'Downdragon Harr': An evil sorceress turns a princess into a dragon, uses magic to disguise herself as the princess, murders the king and takes over the kingdom. Her first decree is to have every dragon in the kingdom slain (all dragons are played by bassi profundi). A knight with a magic sword wounds the princess in her dragon form, and the enchantment on the blade breaks the spell on her. They fall in love via duet, and then go to the most ancient wyrm in the land (the titular Harr), wake him from his centuries long slumber and use him as their steed to fly off and challenge the sorceress. 'She sees their approach and uses mighty sorcery, that drains the life from most of her courtiers and all of her guards, to slay the dragon as it dives down on the castle—but in death, it slays her, crashing into the castle and crushing her to pulp under its great bulk as it slides to a (dead) stop. (It sings in death, and so does the queen from somewhere under it.) The princess and the knight begin their happy rule, and wedded bliss, atop the carcass of the great dragon.'

One suspects dragons do not care overmuch for this opera.

-

Hymns:

Religious music is typically plainchant, a form of music that usually consists purely of vocals (typically a solitary singer). There is no set rhythm, as the song consists of singing prayers and religious verse. Sometimes there's the occasional accompaniment from a instrument, such as an organ, or a slow heavy drum beat, in the case of Banite hymns.

They can be more complex: polyphonic hymns involve 'two or more singers or instrumentalists playing independent melodic lines at the same time.'

The hymns of most faiths sound most akin to Gregorian chanting. At its softest and most elaborate, you get something that sounds something like a simplified Enya song.

-

Elves

Ah yes, the mysterious and magic melodies of the Tel'Quessir...

Which apparently sound a lot like, say, Don't Bring Me Down, Land of Confusion, Domino Medley, Mr Blue Sky...

They also have your Enya and Loreena McKennit type stuff.

Replace the guitar with a harp, maybe throw in a flute, that's elven music. It's rock. Elven instruments are the only instruments thus far capable of sustain. The effects on the vocals can be replicated by elves, who have a strange quirk with their vocal chords where they can produce two notes/sounds at once, distorting their voice in a way that's similar. Some have a genetic quirk that allows them to sort of say 'two things at once.' Generally elves prefer softer singing voices.

Elven musical performances feature galadrae - three dimensional illusions depicting scenes to go along with the song, not dissimilar to what one might see at a modern concert. Generally the theme is the history/story behind the piece.

Common elven folk songs are apparently these: Laeryn's Lament My Love Green And Growing Blood of My Sisters The Moondapple Stag Knights On The Ride Thorn Of Rose Winterwillow [an instrumental] Greenhallow Mantle Stone Fall, Tree Rise The Lady Laughing

-

Dwarves

Dwarves like drums and metallic percussion for their music, and vocals tend to be plainsong.

Large clanholds with volcanic vents may build giant complex pipe organs.

'...usually dwarves play piano-like personal instruments (strings hit with hammers; hitting things with hammers is the dwarven way). Most such dwarf instruments look more like an accordion (small portable keyboard) and have metal strings.'

-

Gnomes

Gnomes like drones and oboes (or shawms, I guess). Traditionally, history and lore has been an oral tradition kept by women, so it wouldn't surprise me if some lorekeepers sing it.

-

Halflings

Halflings are apparently known for their comic, and usually bawdy, operas, which are popular with gnomes and dwarves. Titles include 'Ravalar’s Roister In The Cloister; Yeomen, Bowmen, and The Taming Maiden; The Seven Drunken Swordswingers Of Silverymoon; The Haunted Bedpan; The Laughing Statue Of Beltragar; and The Night Six In-Use Beds Fell Into The Castle Moat.'

Outside of that their music overlaps a lot with human music trends.

-

Orcs and goblins

Heavy drumbeats, gongs, warhorns and rhythmic shouting/chanting.

-

Dragonborn

Nothing outside of BG3 that I see, so I'd go with what the game says: throat singing.

[eddies-house]

The Under-Ground

Chapter One - Welcome to The Under-Ground

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 |

Modern!Barista!Eddie AU - In which you work at the local Hawkins coffee shop where you thought you'd be able to escape the horrors that were high school a few years after graduating. Until one of those horrors lands a job in the closing shift with you...and you have to train him.

Enemies to Lovers, Modern!Barista!Eddie AU, Eddie x Fem Reader

5K Words

Warnings - Eddie is an asshole, eventual smut, I don't think there's anything else but please let me know if I missed anything

Author's Note: I finished this sooner than I thought I would...pls let me know what you think, I am having so much fun writing this so far and I can't wait to keep going

Masterlist

Next ->

The chill Autumn air infiltrated the apartment and left you shivering, the wool blanket atop your comforter did little to aid you in getting warm.  That’s what five hundred dollars a month got you in small town Hawkins, it's what you could afford.  Old striped wallpaper that alternated a faded baby blue and pale yellow that seemed to have been glued to the wall since the 70’s barely clung to the walls, a majority of it peeling and begging to be torn off.  The stained white linoleum throughout the kitchen had seen better days and the carpet in the living room and bedroom was dingy, so dingy that no vacuum could possibly come close to cleaning it.  The lock on the door was on the verge of breaking and almost didn’t work–almost.  And of course the heater was definitely broken, the creepy landlord would take his sweet time to fix it, leaving you with a freezing apartment as the seasons changed and Hawkins welcomed the fall.  A broke college student by day and a barista by night, these are the cards you were dealt for now.  

Classes at the community college had finished for the day, rotating to the night courses.  A few papers were due next week, one for your business class on the effects of product promotion in business growth that happened to be stressing you out extra.  Your fingers tapped away at your laptop from your mattress nestled in the corner on the floor of your tiny bedroom.  4:30PM, the time in the corner of the screen read, just half an hour before your shift at The Under-Ground.  With a groan, you click save on the document and shut the laptop which was certain to be opened later tonight after your shift only to continue the torturous essay.  Begrudgingly you began your pre-work ritual of grabbing whatever snack or meal you had in the fridge, scarfing it down, and then tidying your appearance a bit while listening to your daily playlist named “Eh” on Spotify.  Today’s vibe was set by Dreams by Fleetwood Mac.  

The rusty bathroom faucet sputtered water before allowing a full stream to flow into the sink.  You splashed some water on your face to feel more alive although it may have been a mistake in hindsight since the apartment was already cold and rather than feeling refreshed, you felt like a wet dog.  Dabbing your face with a towel hanging from over the rod where the tie dye shower curtain hung as well, you collected any leftover mascara from the previous night beneath your waterline and around your eyelids.  Moving to the compact closet in the bedroom, a simple outfit of jeans and a maroon knitted sweater you’d ‘claimed’ from the lost and found at the college were chosen and paired with your only signature docs.  Lastly, your apron was tied around your waist in a neat knot.  

Grabbing your keys from the laminate countertop and shoving your laptop in your bag, you make your way through the damaged and scratched up wooden door that was the entrance to your apartment, the number seven nailed to the front of it.  “God dammit.” you jam your key in and out of the lock, twisting and repeating until it finally clicks in place.  The door leads right outside into the biting air and you scurry down the concrete stairs while avoiding touching the nasty railing, Mrs. Harrison’s chubby cat, Raphael is perched right at the bottom like he always is.  His large green irises stare up at you, giving the appearance that he was just a fluffy ball of black fur with eyes.  “Ralphy” you mumble your nickname for him affectionately as you steal a pat from his head on your way out of the apartments, a small meow chiming through the air.  

The Under-Ground wasn’t a far walk but it sure did seem that way the colder it got.  You’d been working there since the Spring and so far had no issues with weather but you knew it would bite you at some point.  The walk through downtown Hawkins is crisp and cloudy, leaves blowing delicately from the trees and laying perfectly in the street, colors varying from red, orange, and brown.  It was mid September.  Patrons wander about the streets attending to their daily errands.  Teenagers mess around at the entrance of The Hideout, no doubt attempting to use their fake IDs only to be turned away by the bouncer, Stan.  

Joyce Byers cleans the storefront window of Melvald’s, taking care to not miss a single streak.  Her face lights up as her son, Will approaches the store.  Max Mayfield skateboards past you down the sidewalk at lightning speed, the only reason you know it's her is a flash of her flaming red hair as well as Lucas Sinclair trying to keep up with her on his own board, a nervous expression written on his features as he carefully maneuvers.  Nancy Wheeler hurriedly gets into her car, wrapping up her workday at The Hawkins Post while Jonathan Byers gives her cheek a kiss and heads over toward Will and Joyce.   

The Under-Ground comes into view as you round the corner, the brick building vacant of customers at the moment from what you can tell through the windows.  The evening rush hasn’t picked up yet, usually kicking in at around six when the college students like yourself would make themselves at home and study over lattes and espresso shots.  The bell chimes above the door as you pull it open, the smell of coffee beans and pastries flooding your nose and some upbeat jazz playing through the speakers.  Robin sits atop the counter much to the boss, Ronnie's dismay but he’s not around to scold her.  Her dirty blonde bob is freshly trimmed, bangs laying just right across her forehead while she has a lollipop sticking out her mouth and she skims through a magazine lazily.  One leg is hitched up onto the counter with her bright yellow converse on display, knee to her chest.  She’s wearing jeans with a few holes and a vintage tee.  Her bright blue eyes glance up and land on you, face lighting up as she greets you.  “Hey, Robin!” you greet back, making your way behind the counter to clock in on the computer.  

“You’re lucky, it’s been dead for hours.” she says while setting aside the magazine.  “Think it’s gonna rain too so it’ll probably stay that way.” she continues.  

“Good, I can probably catch up on some homework then.” you hum, punching in your employee number.

“Oh and some new guy is supposed to close with you tonight, I think you’re training him.” she mentions.

“So, no catching up on homework then.” you sigh.  Training someone new wasn't necessarily difficult however it was draining since you already knew how to do everything like the back of your hand.  Dumbing it all down always took a minute since you had to slow down and give them time to catch on.  

“Did Ronnie say who?” you ask, turning to face Robin.  Hawkins was small which meant that everyone knew everyone.  Which was unfortunate sometimes since that also meant everyone knew everyone's business.

Robin hops off the counter, hair bouncing as she does.  “Nope, I just know that it's some dude.” she crunches down on her lollipop and discards the stick in the garbage a few feet away.  

With a sigh, you head to the back room to put your bag in your locker only to find Steve lounging at the lunch table, his feet crossed on top of it while scrolling through his phone and two legs of the chair he occupies off the ground as he balances.  Today he sports some red corduroy pants and an ivory crewneck sweater finished off with converse, just like Robin’s, only black.  “What’s up?” he greets, not once looking up from his phone.  

“Scrolling through Tinder again, Stevie?” you mock while setting your bag in your locker for safe keeping, hooking the lock around the metal and clicking it into place.

“Actually, it’s Grindr.” he says matter of factly.  

“My bad, you find anyone cute?” you ask, peering over his shoulder, his aftershave smelling subtle and pleasant.   

He lands on a cute blonde guy with green eyes, most likely from a town over.  “Not really.” he exhales, running a hand through his voluminous hair.  

“Well what about him?  He’s pretty cute.” you encourage.  

“Dude, it says he likes to do Karaoke for fun.” he glances behind at you with a raised brow.  You shrug, unaware of why that would deter him.  

“If that's not a red flag, I don’t know what is.” he states, shutting his phone off and shoving it in his pocket while standing, making his way to the vending machine.  “What happened to me, Socks?  I used to pull 'em left and right and now no guy or girl will give me the time of day.”  Socks was your nickname given by Steve and Robin after the dreadful incident where a pipe burst from one of the sinks and you happened to be standing in front of it, the bottom half of your pants along with your socks becoming soaked.  The rest of the evening you worked your shift without shoes, only in your sopping wet socks with your jeans rolled up.  It had been an ongoing joke since, although you always reminded them how horrible it is to go around in wet shoes, the squeaky sound they would make against the floor and the squishiness of the soles.  They always disagreed, insisting that it would be worse to work in only socks and how they’d just opt to continue wearing the drenched shoes.  

“Steve, I think Grindr and Tinder and all the dating apps might be giving you unrealistic expectations.” you tell him truthfully.  

“Okay, but who the hell else am I gonna find in Hawkins?  Been there, done that, this is my only option."  He inserts a dollar into the vending machine and punches in his selection, shortly after a bag of pretzels falls.  

“Pretzels, Steve?  Really?” you taunt.  “How bland of you.” you deadpan.  He pulls open the packaging and tosses a pretzel in his mouth all while giving you his signature pout.  “Maybe that's your issue, you dumb yourself down for these people you don’t even know.” you continue.

“Wow.” he raises his arms in disbelief, a hint of humor evident.  “That…” he flings a pretzel at you, hitting your chest.  “...was mean.” he sasses.  “But probably true.” he finishes.  “Don’t you have a job or something?” his head tilts toward the door.  

“Yeah, and so do you.” you shoot back, grabbing his apron from where it hung over one of the breakroom chairs and throwing it at him.  

Exiting the room, you hear Steve chime in one more time.  “I’m off in like fifteen!”  Your shifts always overlapped with Steve and Robin’s, them usually taking the morning to afternoon shift and you taking over closing.  Ronnie would always hang out in the back office so you didn’t have to close alone but that was pretty much the extent of his labor.  The beans needed to be ground for the next day, chairs stacked on the tables, bathroom tidied, ingredients prepped, counters wiped down, etc.  And you were always the one to do it, not that you minded so much.  Ronnie never micromanaged and you had gotten good at closing so it became somewhat of a meditation time.  The town winded down and the dim lighting provided a relaxing glow, almost as if you were in a spa.  You could at least pretend anyway.

Robin was making herself a latte, carefully pouring the milk over the coffee in an attempt to make a design.  She’d been practicing for weeks with no success.  “Dammit!  Another wasted latte!” she slams the small pitcher of cream onto the counter.  

“That for me?” you question over her shoulder, spotting the blob of white draped over the coffee.  You ended up drinking them most of the time, always looking forward to your daily latte handcrafted by Robin.  

Letting a breath out, she hangs her head in defeat.  “It is now.” 

Steve saunters out from the back, stopping in his tracks right next to Robin.  “Another one?  Seriously?” he mutters before continuing to the espresso machine to make probably his fourth drink of the day.  

“When is the new guy scheduled to come in?” you ask as you pour yourself an iced coffee.  Everyone was allowed one free drink a day however it was never enforced unless the owner, Ronnie’s mom was around.  She owned The Under-Ground while her husband owned The Hideout.

“5:30, I think?” Robin answers.  The clock on the register currently reads 5:20.  Steve glances at you, trying to hide a smirk as he quickly looks in the other direction.  

“What?” you demand.  Shaking his head he continues pouring an espresso shot into paper to go cup.  A tug on his sleeve doesn’t get him to budge.  “Steve, why did you give me that look?!” you hound him.  

“Nothing!” he raises his hands in defense, a shit eating grin on his face.  

“Steve.” you narrow your eyes at him, brows knit in frustration.  

“Yeah, Steve.  What do you know that I don’t?” Robin steps towards him while crossing her arms in offense.  

“Nothing!” He lies, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Steve.” Robin glares at him.

“Y’know, this is already getting to me.” he points to his cup.  “I gotta run to the bathroom.” he rushes to the back once again, holding his stomach and pretending to grimace in pain.

“What’s up with him?” you look at Robin, the two of you left standing there without any idea.  She shrugs, handing you the botched latte she just made.  

Pushing aside your theories, you begin setting up for your shift, restocking the cups and making sure there’s enough whip cream in the canister.  The Under-Ground had a very cozy vibe, dark mahogany woods decorating the interior, little twinkly lights draped above the windows, and a snug book nook tucked away in the back corner with large shelves that took up the whole wall.  Accompanying it are a few tables and chairs, their wood matching the counter and on top of each table sits various houseplants that you’d have to remind yourself to water.  

Robin tops off the pastries as she always does at the end of her shift, adding some chocolate croissants, blueberry muffins, brownies, and a brand new lemon loaf to the case.  She finishes off by wiping off the glass with a rag and then ensures the display of gift cards and bags of coffee beans on the counter is dusted off and pristine.  

You busy yourself by restocking the to-go sandwiches in the open cooler at the front of the counter, making a note to also grab a few more parfaits from the back since those were running low as well.  A few books are scattered among one of the tables so you take it upon yourself to collect them and tuck them neatly back on the book shelf.  Other than that, nothing else is left to do and you should be ready to start training the new hire without any distractions.  You reward yourself by sipping on the latte, the bitter taste gracing your tongue and warmth coating your throat.  Robin disappears to the back briefly, coming back out with her bag while shoving her apron into it, ready to clock out the second it hits 5:30.

The roaring of an engine suddenly echoes in the streets, an obnoxious sputtering filling your ears as you glance up and out of the front window.  It comes to a screeching halt as a motorcycle pulls up into one of the parking spots horizontally rather than vertically like the rest of the vehicles.  Jackass, you think to yourself as the owner kicks the kickstand down.  He wears a standard black motorcycle helmet, a leather jacket, ripped black jeans, and some combat boots, a walking stereotype for some kind of punk ass kid.  

Jim Hopper catches him, his cop car parked a few spaces away while he does his crossword in the driver’s seat.  You can’t quite make out what's being said but as Hopper exits his car in a hurry,  you can tell they have most likely had run-ins like this before.  The jackass looks up in aggravation as he still straddles the bike, the sky reflected in the visor of his helmet.  Hopper appears to be telling him off but not giving him a ticket when he most definitely should.  Jackass reparks the bike correctly, gesturing to it as if he’d performed a magic trick, Hopper with a hand on his hip and a scowl on his face.  He points a finger at him, muttering one last thing before retreating back to his own car, eyes never leaving the guy.  

Steve emerges from the back again, carefully.  “Shit.” he mumbles.

Your gaze moves from the scene outside to behind you at Steve who is also now looking out the window.  This provokes you to look back outside.  Just as you’re about to ask, the jackass removes his helmet, revealing a head of wild brunette curls, his hand adorned in chunky rings as he grips the helmet.  Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention back to inputting some inventory in the computer.  Out of the corner of your eye you can see that he’s making his way toward the door.  “Are you kidding me?” you say under your breath.  

“Thought trendy coffee wasn’t his style.” you say to no one in particular.  Steve inhales as if waiting for some kind of impact.  

“Oh…” Robin says in some kind of realization.  

The bell above the door rings as he swings it open, striding across the shop and in front of the counter, his eyes are a dark abyss as he looks from you to Robin and then to Steve.  

“Munson.” Steve acknowledges him.

“Harrington.” he says back, a tinge of disgust rolling off his tongue.  Robin’s eyes are wide as they shift between you two.

“What do you want, Eddie?” you bite, voice full of malice as you glare up at him.

Bringing his hand to his chest, his face contorting into a mock pout, he sets the helmet on the counter.  “Ouch.  That make you feel better, sweetheart?”  Sarcasm drips from his tone.

You scoff about to tell him to leave but he just continues.  “Make you feel all big and bad?  Get it out of your system yet?” he taunts, a smirk playing on his lips.  

“Oh no.” Robin says quietly, leaning over you to clock out and then subtly making her way around the counter.  

“Why don’t you get the hell out of here and find someone else to dick around with?” you snap, grabbing his helmet and forcing it into his hands. 

A cocky look takes over his features.  “Well what if I’m a paying customer?” 

 “I have the right to refuse service so, I’m refusing.” you can feel anger coursing through your veins, blood running hot.  

“That’s unfortunate.” he frowns, moving to make his way behind the counter.  “For you.” his stare burns into you, two black holes nearly swallowing you up.  

“I don’t have time-” you begin but are cut off when he reaches over you and starts typing away at the computer, clocking in.  His cheap cologne and cigarette smoke flood your nose.

Steve looks at you apologetically as Eddie passes him on his way to the back.  A silence lingers as you process that you’ll be forced to work with the one person in this town you can’t stand.  Eddie Munson was the new hire and of course he had to be scheduled on the closing shift with you.  Life couldn’t get any worse than this, a shitty apartment, and now a shitty job that you used to love combined with mountains of homework.  Your eternal hell.  Work was supposed to be a place you could briefly escape.  Sure it was still work but you didn’t mind.

“Steve!” both you and Robin scold him at the same time.  He squeezes his eyes shut in preparation for more yelling.  

“You knew Ronnie hired him and you just didn’t tell me!” you seethe.  “You could have warned me!  I could have switched shifts or something-or, or–or tell Ronnie he’s a criminal or something!  So he wouldn’t get hired!” your eyes are bulging out of your head as you reprimand the poor guy.  

“Okay, see, the way you're reacting right now doesn’t give me any confidence that you would have reacted any differently if I told you earlier.” Steve explains while clocking out.  

“So you think springing it on her like that was any better!” Robin says loudly.  Steve contemplates for a moment.

“Look, Socks.  I’m sorry.” he apologizes sincerely.  

“Socks?” Eddie stands in the doorway that leads to the back, now free of his leather jacket and wearing a black Metallica tee.  “What kinda fucked up thing did you do for a nickname like that?” he asks, a smug grin on his face.

“Oh, kill me now.” you drag your hands down your face in agony.  Steve and Robin slowly make their way toward the front door, looking at you sympathetically.

“See you tomorrow?” Robin awkwardly points finger guns at you before they speed up and shuffle out the door.

You sigh heavily, dropping your arms limply to your sides.  Turning around, Eddie is about to speak up again but you cut him off. 

“I don’t wanna hear it.  You don’t talk unless it's about work.  I’ll train you today and then I’ll ask Ronnie to move you to mornings or something.” you tell him in one breath.  

He laughs before replying.  “You’d like that wouldn’t you?  Hate to be the bearer of bad news but you’re stuck with me, doll.” he chuckles lowly.  “I only work nights.” he says with that stupid grin.  

“Who did I piss off for this to happen?” you mumble to yourself, rubbing at your temples.  “Put this on.” you shove an apron at his chest.

He grunts at the impact.  “No.” he simply says, refusing to grab it from you.  His expression is blank.

Scoffing, you shove it against him even harder.  “This is work.  We work here.  Stop acting like a damn child.” you say sternly.  

Now taking the apron in his hand, you think he’s finally come to his senses until he bunches it up and tosses it onto one of the counters, eliciting a groan from you.  You were foolish to think he would play nice.

–

Trying to train Eddie was as useful as training a fly.  He didn’t listen and would purposely mess things up claiming he didn’t know any better and he almost charged one of your only customers that night double the actual cost.  It was like watching a toddler, you couldn’t take your eyes away from him or all hell would break loose.  The cherry on top was all the snide comments he would make which led to more bickering.  

When it came to closing time at 9:00, you were exhausted and could practically feel the eyebags hanging off your face.  There was not enough espresso in the world to keep up with Eddie’s antics.  You were counting the money from the register, making sure all was accounted for, Eddie watching as he was supposed to be learning when really he was zoned out.  

“Alright, Socks, are we done here?” he says with a bored tone.  

You glance between him and the cash, still counting under your breath while ignoring him.  Poking your arm, he tries again.  “Socks.  I got things to do.” he continues.  “Hey, I’m talking to you–”

“--Oh my god, just go.” you break, finally completing your counting and setting the money back in the drawer neatly.  

“Fuck yeah.” he whispers, rushing to the back to collect his things.  Pinching the bridge of your nose, you only hope he quits before you have to work another shift with him.  Eddie wasn’t just an asshole, he was the asshole who was partially responsible for your shitty high school experience.  You know it's dumb, there’s no reason to let something keep a hold on you for so long but it just does.  It makes you cringe, it's like the equivalent to peaking in high school but opposite, and yet you can’t seem to look past it.

Nothing but the twinkly lights and the dim overhead lights lit up the shop, a moment of peace taking over you while the town outside laid itself to rest.  Shutting off the music and untying your apron to drape it over your arm, you do one more scan to make sure everything is set for tomorrow.  Satisfied, you head to the back to retrieve your bag.  Eddie passes you, almost running you over on his way out, his stupid helmet in hand.  

“See ya tomorrow, Socks.” he salutes as he clocks out, shortly after you hear the bell chime signaling that he had left.  He was overusing that nickname but you knew it would only please him to call it out.  You had to keep your cool until he figured out he didn’t fit in here and quit.  Exhaling, you unlock your locker, grabbing your bag and tossing your apron in before exiting and heading for the door.  

The door is locked and double checked as you step out onto the sidewalk only to find that it was still raining.  Just my luck.  Eddie’s dumb motorcycle roars to life again a few feet away from you, a nuisance to the tranquil town around you.  Rolling your eyes, you begin your damp journey home.  It’s not until you’re in front of the movie theater that you hear that damn bike behind you.  You think he’s going to speed past you, maybe splash some water on you while he’s at it but the engine rumbles as if right next to you–which it was.  

“Are you lost?” you spit, continuing to walk.  

He rides beside you slowly, irritating you to your core.  “Need a ride home?” he asks, slightly muffled by his helmet.  

You huff before responding.  “No.  I don’t need anything from you.  Get the hell out of here.”  You keep your gaze straight ahead as you walk, him still following behind.

“Sweetheart–”

“--Do NOT call me that.  Ever.  Again.” you scold, taking a moment to point your finger at him, your face displaying disdain toward him.

“Look, I may be an asshole but it's raining.  I can give you a ride.” he coaxes but it doesn’t work.  You keep on, the rain drops collecting on your eyelashes.  

“Get bent, Eddie.” you say, now walking faster, hoping to evade him.

He lifts the visor on the helmet, now showing his eyes as he keeps up with you.  “Get on the damn bike.”

“Fuck you.” you snap at him.

Desperate, you start jogging across the crosswalk and that's when he gives up.  Glancing behind you, he flips the visor down and revs the bike before speeding off.  You weren’t stupid and you weren’t going to play into his little sadist games.  Life was already steamrolling you and you did not need some jackass to factor into it.  After a few minutes of walking, you finally rounded the corner and the faded powder blue apartments came into view, street lights illuminating the way.  The streets were sleek with rain and oil, giving off reflections of the traffic lights and buildings.  You were careful to scurry your way across the parking lot to avoid any of the creeps that hung around late at night.  It wasn’t exactly the best area, being notorious for drug deals and any other illegal side hustles.  

Raphael’s spot on the stairs was vacant due to the downpour which you frowned at, you always looked forward to seeing him upon coming home.  A few skeezy looking men stood nearby however they seemed to be involved in their own drama as they argued and took no interest in you.  Gratefully, you continued quietly up the stairs and hurriedly unlocked the door, jamming the key in the lock until it gave out to you.  

Slipping into your nightly routine, you begin to unwind as much as you can.  A quick shower awaited you since the hot water was limited and you couldn’t wait to munch on one of the sandwiches you snagged from work.  In your defense Ronnie had ordered way too many for the week and the back fridge was overflowing with them.  The local deli they came from, Anderson’s had some fairly good quality meats and cheeses so for that you were thankful as they pretty much kept you fed.  Tonight’s would be turkey and swiss with mayo on sourdough, your favorite.  The lights flickered on as you hit the switch, another quirk that came with the run down apartment.  The living room and entryway were now bathed in a warm and quite dim glow, or in other words if you wanted to read a book, it’d be quite difficult to see.  Shivering from being drenched in rain, you set your bag on the kitchen counter adjacent to the entryway and start taking off your damp clothes, peering into your room to toss them into the hamper and slipping into the bathroom.  It was a tight space, not a whole lot of room to do much but it was home.  

Turning the faucet to ‘hot’, you wait for the water to get warm enough to bear, the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom still bothered you no matter how long you lived there.  You stood on the bath mat feeling the water with your finger until it was to your satisfaction, stepping in and feeling welcomed by the sudden warmth you’d been waiting for all day.  In that moment you feel relief from the pressures of the world, the deadlines, bills, loans, essays, all of it.  Everything melts away for approximately three minutes and that's when the water starts to turn cold again, returning you back to the dreadful reality you wish you could neglect.  

But to your dismay, the cycle just starts all over again, keeping you hostage.

~end~

Next ->

Masterlist

tags - @mmunson86 @haylaansmi

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

PSA that I will be traveling for a bit so don't expect a round up for the next couple weeks, but some new shows will be starting when I get back, yay! Before that, though, we still have a couple things going, though I can't say it was a great week in this particular corner of bl. Both of these current airing shows are on Gaga.

Love is Better the Second Time Around

I did not much care for this week's episode, and it was disappointing to see this show's streak of excellence broken. The ideas behind what they brought into the story in this episode could have fit if they'd used them differently, but the execution was just terrible. You can't suddenly dump a new antagonist, new backstory, and new conflict in the penultimate episode of a short series and expect that to land, especially when you make all of it so complicated. Did we really need a sexually harassing cousin, an illicit photo, a disownment, a previously unheard of sister, and a rich family trying to force Iwanaga home to run their business, all at once? This was far too much Plot Stuff, most of which added little to the story and all of which there is no time to meaningfully address. And the worst part is it derailed us from the relationship repair narrative we've been on for the last month. Disappointing from a show that was so solid until this week.

My Strawberry Film

I can't believe I spent four hours of my one precious life on this slog of a drama. We ended the show as I feared we would, with everyone getting rejected, no satisfying conclusion to any aspect of the story, and a half-assed attempt at actual queer romance rep via a tortured backstory of Minami's mom and her high school friend who rejected her confession and now regrets it. I really, deeply resent that this show only allowed the dead character to have her romantic feelings finally requited, and in the end Ryo didn't even get to experience any relief or catharsis for his own, still continuing to suppress his feelings to the end. This show stayed mostly preoccupied with the het love lines to the end, and they got the vast majority of the screen time. I don't know what the writer thinks they are saying with this story, but all it says to me is that being queer is miserable and lonely for every generation and there will never be any relief. What a fucking bummer of a message and an awful note to end the Drama Shower series on.

Bonus: Silhouette of Your Voice

Sweet relief. Thanks to @my-rose-tinted-glasses I was reminded that I hadn't watched this film yet, and it's now on Viki so I finally got the chance! Adapted from the manga I Hear the Sunspot, this is the story of Kohei, a college student with a hearing disability who hires a classmate, Taichi, to take notes for him in class in exchange for bringing him daily bentos. It's such a cute story, and the two form a real friendship and then a romantic bond as they get to know each other. Kohei is reserved but kind, and he is misunderstood by most of the other students, and Taichi is bold and brash and hyper defensive of his new friend. It's not perfect--the ending was kind of weird, which @twig-tea tells me is because they did the beginning of the manga with fidelity and then just randomly jumped to the end--but it's a very pleasant way to spend 70 minutes. Recommended!

[abyssalzones]

I would love to hear more abt your college pre-egg-breaking fiddauthor thoughts if you'd be open to it

oh BOY would I

so when I think about college fiddauthor nowadays I mainly think about both my own experiences with ~navigating identity~ and how I would approach a gay FTM relationship from a semi-realistic 1970's angle, where you start to see a lot of what you'd call "milestones" I guess in LGBT history and public awareness. wait okay here's something I said to mer that can set a precedent for what I'm talking about

when it comes to me and my own journey of self discovery irt sexuality and transness, I feel like those two things are very intertwined, because the concept of identity in my eyes is very socially motivated. I've previously identified as a nonbinary lesbian and a transgender gay man respectively before getting to the point I'm at now, and don't feel like either of those things were incorrect necessarily, just how I felt at the time (and what I wanted out of a relationship, really). I think I literally got an ask ages ago questioning how I went from one to the other but Idk I don't think the gender journey is as simple or "logical" as people coming from a hetero-patriarchal perspective (that's a mouthful) seem to think.

and, And, from a Historical perspective, FTM experiences and butch lesbian experiences have Always been very intertwined, especially back in the early 70's when more people were starting to have some awareness (even in LGBT spaces) of this thing known as the Transgender Lifestyle. I'm flattening things quite a bit here and I know for a fact there's a lot of variation between experiences, especially depending on your social circles, but from what I can glean a lot of the time transgender men weren't very well known and so a lot of the time you would just ID as a butch lesbian and/or present as a man socially, sometimes for safety reasons. and there's a lot of overlap there too that continues into contemporary transmasc spaces today :]

historical justification aside I basically think college would be a major turning point for self-discovery in both of their lives, but more-so for fiddleford than ford? I've always assumed based on everything we've seen that fidds was basically the only friend ford had in college, which definitely would have influenced him in important ways, but other than that I think he invested most of his time in studying and developments in gender were an afterthought. ford's FTM identity starts from a place of "failing to be a woman" and then develops with his pride in being a huge weirdo. in my mind that can only really happen once he's in gravity falls and has basically sacrificed his connections with other people/the world to live as his truest self, whether that's researching anomalies or living as a man.

fiddleford, however, I always think of from the perspective of someone bucking to societal expectations for safety reasons. this is because of a lot of things: ford's possible feelings of abandonment in favor of Normalcy (who can forget "Go back to your doting family and a life of fear and compromise!"), his jumping into a nuclear family immediately out of college, But also packing up and driving to oregon in a matter of days after ford asks for his help... when he has a kid who could be no older than 5 or 6 at home...? I sort of see his presentation as a foil to ford's, trying to mimic cishetero ("hetero") normalcy vs. being the Lone Transsexual Freak. I've gotten horribly off topic from the college thing hang on

basically I imagine them in their uni days like two weird butch gay women that are just, totally socially unapproachable. fiddleford is the more outgoing of the two as he's been voted "most likely to actually have other friends" in my mind, so if anyone was going to gay & lesbian student association meetings it would've been him, but otherwise ford is too busy ignoring his feelings. "I don't care if I'm a man or a woman I'm too busy studying. go away." but of course they find enough solace in eachother's company and their different-but-distinctly-similar weirdness that it forms an unbreakable transgender bond. freak4freak if you will. fidds settles on a bisexual identity without thinking about it too hard because honestly the conclusion here is that it doesn't matter if his roommate is a woman or a man he just knows he needs to do terrible things to him over d&d&md (sorry) (not really that sorry though.)

it's actually funny you bring this up because I'd been workshopping a short comic set in their college era that touches on this stuff a lot. not sure when that will ever get done but I can tell you it's. uhm

yeah they're kind of weird.

[ilumin]

Thinking of...

College rommate!Kaeya who's so popular, everyone on the campus knows him. He's handsome, polite, very flirty and so, sooo annoying.

Ever since you two started to live together, he was like a nightmare. He was always making weird comments about you, like- "oh, you should smile more", or- "you got only 70%? Honey, I thought you could do much better than that!"

And the worst part? Everyone loves him. And he knows it. He's completely aware of what impact his words have on other, and which string he needs to pull to get what he wants.

He's annoying, mean, very full of himself and-

"Hello, my dear roommate, can I ask you a favor?"

Speak of the devil.

"What do you want" you rolled your eyes, already irritated by his presence. He just asked you a question, and you want to smack him in his stupid pretty face.

"I need your help with a project. You're pretty good at physics, aren't you?" Kaeya leaned against a door frame, looking at you with his arms crossed. You hated the way he was looking at you. Even with all your hatred toward him, you need to admit - he was pretty damn hot.

"Yeah, I suppose to" you looked back from him to your laptop, trying to ignore this fucking warm building up inside your chest.

"Splendid. So, as my roommate, what do you say about some pizza and a small study session? My treat if it helps" his smile, oh, his smile. It was bright as a sun, which made him even more annoying. Now he's going to make you blind?

"Why should I help you, hm? When I asked for a help, you ditched me." you turned on you chair, raising a brow at him.

You could swear that, for a second, his posture seemed... Nervous?

"Ah, yes. But I think I've already apologized for that couple of times." Kaeya smiled again, coming back to his "mysterious" (his words, not yours) himself.

And yes, he did apologize, he even bought you flowers as a sorry. You bit the inside of your cheek lost in thoughts. You knew, you were completely aware how this'll go, but-

"Alright. But because you've promised, you're paying for everything."

"Sure thing, sweetheart"

"And don't call me that!"

"What? Wait, hold on-"

"Ughh, I've already explained it four times now, Alberich!" you throw your hands in the air. Youre tired, he's tired, and the pizza is already cold.

"I'm starting to understand why Albedo's drinks so much coffee after every study session he has with other students"

"Are you assuming that I'm the dumb one?" Kaeya laughed, taking a slice of pizza from a cardbox and then taking a big bite.

"You're dumb all the time, but being honest - why did you sign up for this project? If I'm not wrong, it's not even that important to the final grade and only few people volunteered" you squirm I'm place, trying get more comfortable in your seat.

"Why you, a person who's clearly just not into maths or physics, volunteered?" You raised your brow, looking right at him.

You started to observe his body language which seemed... On edge. Kaeya straight up a bit, his shoulders tensing and his eyes flew all around the room.

You two stayed in a silence in a moment, Kaeya chewing as long as he could to avoid answering and you, still staring at him and waiting for any respond.

Clearly loosing his confidence, but not wanting you to realized that (even if you already did), he finally swallowed last bits of pizza as he finally spoke.

"Would you believe me... If I would say I wanted to spend some more time with you?" His gaze finally meeting your face.

"What?" Your eyes wide in shock, as you look at him.

Kaeya? This Kaeya Alberich? Wanted to spend some time with you???

"Am I tripping or they added something to this pizza"

"I'm genuine, sweetheart." He's face surprisingly soft with a sweet smile, as he looked at you.

You both stare at each other, silence slightly uncomfortable, while you tried to gain your thoughts.

And then, it strikes you.

You're blushing.

You quickly looked away, not wanting him to see you at such vulnerable state. You hated him! Hated everything in his character and doings, so why, why on earth, you're feeling like a lovestruch teenager?

"And... That's why you asked me for help?"

"Actually yes." He shrugged, taking another bite of his pizza. He seemed not scared at all. Where in the meantime, you were still processing his words.

Kaeya was mean, very full of himself and dumb. You hated him with all your being, because only a glance from him could make your heart flutter. He could say your name and your knees was already weak.

You hated him for so long, you can't just give up on it like that.

"So... Would you like to go on a date with me, sweetheart?"

... Or so you thought.

HELLOOO!!! Hi, another "Thinking of..."!!!

I'm so glad you guys liked the first one so much, maybe I should make a small series?

This time, I don't have any incredible art- just a small sketch. This one fan fiction firstly had a complete different storyline so-

But besides that, here's some blushy software Calvary captain

Anyway, again, not proofread- let me know if there's anything you find!

→Masterlist←

[thislovintime]

Photo by Matthew Asner:

“First day of school in 9th grade. I am nervous as hell because it is my first day of high school and it’s all new. I walk into my Social Studies Class and am greeted by the teacher who just happens to be Peter Tork of The Monkees. A guy I watched goofing around on TV religiously as a child was teaching me about the world. He was a tough teacher. We had a thing in his class where he would always think that I wasn’t paying attention. He would always make a point of stopping what he was teaching and say to me, ‘What did I just say`’ I would always answer him correctly and it always seemed to frustrate him. He was very smart and loved to read from Mao’s Little Red Book. I was truly happy for him when The Monkees started touring and he found success again. I took this picture in our schoolyard at New Dimensions High School.” - Matthew Asner (Ed Asner’s son), Facebook, July 1, 2023

“Since September he has been teaching English, math, drama, Eastern philosophy and ‘Rock Band Class’ at Pacific Hills, a private secondary school in Santa Monica, Calif. A college dropout, Peter got the job on the strength of his interview with Dr. Penrod Moss, the school’s director. ‘I like to hire people who are independent and creative,’ Moss said. ‘I was impressed by his personality and his ability to speak.’ […] While Tork the musician still has dreams of one day returning to the rock circuit, Thorkelson the teacher is happily planning his next course, ‘Mao, Marx and Mama.’ ‘I’m doing something important,’ he says. ‘I never do anything less than important.’” - People magazine, April 5, 1976

“For some time, [Tork] said, the students in his high school classes had trouble forgetting their teacher was once a teen idol. ‘Until I gave out a few F’s,’ he added, grinning.” - The Clarion Ledger, November 1, 1979 (x)

“I was a schoolteacher in Southern California, and I taught music as well as academics, and I really very much love to teach, and, and I think that if circumstances show me that I am not to entertain anymore or my entertaining career per se winds down, I would very, very much love to coach young entertainers.” - Peter Tork, Headquarters radio, September 1989

“[A]s a teacher, I realized that in order to teach something well you need to understand what your student is going through as they try to learn.” - Peter Tork, The Journal Times Online, August 12, 2005

On a 2018 blog post at the Monkees Live Almanac, one former student, Mark, commented: “Best high school teacher I ever had […]. Tremendous empathy.” (x)

“I taught English and social studies. And sure, the kids probably saw me as a Monkee, but they got over that in a hurry. Once I lost my temper at the kids, they’d see I was just like all the others — and I probably lost my temper too many times, since I was in an angry state back then. I have a life now, that’s the difference. I have a spiritual core. I’m not Shirley MacLaine but I believe in greater or lesser worlds and consciousness. Most people think of themselves as cut off from each other; others know there’s a connectedness that can be tapped into.” - Peter Tork, The Boston Globe, August 10, 1989

“In the mid-’70s, Tork got jobs teaching English, social studies and music at two private schools in the Los Angeles area. The first job, which he enjoyed, was at ‘a radical progressive school in Santa Monica.’ The second was at a school he describes as ‘a holding tank for budding fascists. I couldn’t hack it. I found more integrity in being a singing waiter’ — his next job.” - Los Angeles Times, October 20, 1992 (x)

More about that next job here.

[positivelybeastly]

So, a very dear friend of mine asked me why I think that Hank is such a performer - why he's so good at it, why he enjoys it so much - and it's one of those things that I think is so integral to Hank's character that really determines if you 'get' Beast or not.

I think the brass tacks of it is - he enjoys the attention, he enjoys the affirmation, the praise. There's some lines of dialogue from his parents that state that he was basically the best case scenario they could've hoped for, considering his father's radiation accident - sure, he was weirdly strong, sure, his limbs were oversized, but he was otherwise extremely healthy and intelligent and not deformed like they feared he would be.

So there's a degree of a miracle baby thing going on, where they showered him with love and attention and found it hard to be genuinely angry with him, and especially as he went on, as he got more and more plaudits for being brilliant, I think he chased that high a little bit.

He throttles back a bit when he's older, to try and hide because mutant and he does like being normal even if he loves being praised and affirmed as well, but everyone is telling him to keep going, to be as brilliant as he can be - which, to him, means be VISIBLY brilliant, be VISIBLY great at what you do.

And even when he joins the Avengers, even after he achieves that status symbol, he's STILL chasing that affirmation, he's starting to create impossible standards for himself. He feels notably down when he isn't contributing in fights or with his scientific acumen, he takes it hard when people criticise him, and he starts to feel the need now to be a public face for mutantkind.

It's not really something he mentions as being a thing in Avengers because 70s Avengers wasn't all that interested in addressing the mutant angle, but it does become a plot point in New Defenders, where a college student calls him out for being one of the most public mutant faces there is (remember, this is before Xavier outed himself, so, like, the public mutant faces are probably Hank, Magneto, Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver . . . PROBABLY A LOT OF VILLAINS, and the X-Men, but they're secretive and known only as a weird paramilitary group) but not DOING anything with that status. And then he takes that hard, and forms a mutant advocacy group, because he wants to be good and be seen to be doing good.

There's also the aspect of needing to aggressively perform both masculinity and humanity - especially in Avengers, he's so hypersexual and so casually intelligent (he spends an entire issue just alternating between the dozen languages he knows for fun) because he wants you to consider him a man, and a human, before he's a Beast.

That's an element of his character that you see really obviously in his human form, where he's a fucking walking thesaurus, but there, it's to stand out, to seem smart, there's a degree of smugness and 'look at meeeee,' but the instant he turns blue and furry, it's more about 'look at me not being a freak.'

That only intensifies when he becomes feline, where you see a sort of melding of the two - he's a lot less casual with his speech, he almost slides back into his Big Words mode, but he also wants you to consider him friendly and approachable, so how much he drops a million dollar quote or word starts to oscillate depending on his audience. He changes depending on who he's talking to.

He also almost never shows his teeth when he smiles.

As for why he's so good at it - practice, a lot of reading, and I think a degree of underrated emotional sensitivity. In his way, he's more empathetic and kind and gentle than Jean can be - granted, Jean was fucking MEGA PISSED over the affair with Scott, but if you look at the way he treats Emma, it's very soft and teasing and nurturing, and he stands up for her even against his best friend Jean, who had psychically brutalised Emma.

She has the cheat code of telepathy, but Hank is just - naturally warm and tender. He's a very sensitive soul, not just in terms of being vulnerable but just knowing what people need to hear and being there for them. He's even capable of empathy for Mr. Sinister of all people.

If Percy had even an ounce of this insight into Hank's character, X-Force Beast would just be a performance. "This is what Krakoa needs, so I'll become it," but he just. Doesn't. Get. That. There are glimmers of it! HE'S SO CLOSE. SO CLOSE TO GETTING IT.

This SHOULD be why X-Force Beast is so overtly evil, why he's so despicable, why he's so stupidly villainous - because it's a performance, because that's the only kind of evil Hank can do, and it's KILLING him to do it. One last great performance, to save everyone he loves.

THAT. THAT. WHERE DID IT GO, BEN?

And, like . . . he's getting . . . a reaction. It isn't the reaction he wants, it isn't a reaction he enjoys, but it's a reaction, people . . . ARE paying attention to him, so in a way, that's telling him to keep going. Like, that'd be such an interesting, fucked up dynamic to lean into, that this is just a bit that went too far, that Hank can't stop himself, that his emotions are all fucked up and no-one can tell it's a performance anymore and no-one can pull him out, that he became the performance, but no.

Just evil.

It just sucks because I bet we're not even going to get a resolution on X-Force Beast's feelings about Krakoa and the Hellfire Gala. About the idea that he was the necessary bastard but it didn't keep them all safe, that all of his plans and gambits failed, that he sacrificed everything for nothing. Judging by X-Force #48, he's probably just going to do some Bond villain shit and get taken down. In his own villain turn, he's just - stripped, of all emotional complexity. There isn't a character there. It sucks, man.

It isn't even subtextual. It's just. It's there.

Like, Hank's fatal character flaws are: a complete insecurity in his own self-worth, a worrying fear that he's failed at everything he's ever tried to do, an anxiety that he's not truly human, never will be, never can be, and will in fact only get worse.

THOSE ARE ENOUGH TO BE GETTING ON WITH.

And he ameliorates those things by being charming and funny and playing to type so people like him.

Like, if these writers understood Hank, they would USE that by emphasising the fact that Hank's insecurities and fears and anxieties are growing to such a scale that it's affecting his ability to make emotional reads on people, and thus he's playing the WRONG role that he thinks they want from him, because that's tragic, and that's understandable, but instead they make it that he's just got an ego, or that he's just plain evil.

LIKE.

YOU COULD LITERALLY HAVE HANK BE PAGLIACCI.

"Heard joke once: Man goes to doctor. Says he's depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain.

Doctor says, "Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up."

Man bursts into tears.

Says, "But doctor...I am Pagliacci.”

Hank is always playing the clown, because it makes people happy and that makes him happy, but when they aren't happy, when the jokes don't work, there's no clown to make him feel better. That's when the bottom falls out. That's when you start getting the troubles. And that is tragic.

THAT is how you justify Hank doing horrible things, by making him chase ever greater jokes to tell, ever greater acts of devotion and amusement and entertainment for his audience, desperately hoping it'll bring the soothing balm of someone telling him he did good, because that is horrible, and that is real, and that is so sad.

But nah, evil.

[raccoonfallsharder]

When I saw the first guardians film in middle school, my love of our favorite raccoon began. Finding a community of Rocket lovers after keeping it silently inside for so long is special (in a way I can't articulate without sounding goofy bc it's an anthropomorphic raccoon we're talking about here). I graduate from college this weekend and want to thank you for your stories getting me through hard times and motivationless days. It's given me a knew way to enjoy the movies I've watched so many times :) What was the media that got you super into Rocket and inspired your fiction writing? Much love!!

first and foremost, i want to congratulate you. school is not easy, and i swear it gets harder and feels more high-pressure/high-stakes every year. i hope that your time at college has given you more learning experiences than all-nighters, more opportunities than stressors, and more joy than hardship. and i hope that you are able to take everything you’ve earned and enjoy your freedom from university surrounded by good people, with plenty of time and resources to do the things you love. if you haven’t yet, please take time to sit and breathe and really soak up the fact that you did this. be proud of yourself. you fucken deserve it.

secondly, i read this while walking to the parking garage at 11pm after helping at an event for my college students (i work at a university) and i had to sit in my car and wait till i stopped tearing up so i could drive home. this truly made me so happy and im so glad my silly stories made things even just a little easier for you. ♡

so, my falling in love with rocket was a process. (cue me narrating this for three paragraphs like a schoolgirl with her first crush)

when we first saw rocket’s back in gotg1 i was like, oh. he’s in so much pain. between that + his fucken sarcasm, i complained afterward that the movie would’ve been so much better if he was the main character (lol). i started lazily dabbling in comics content then. i hadn’t been big into marvel comics before (more of a dc/image comics kid) but rocket and groot were becoming my faves. i loved gotg2. so much more focus on rocket, and yondu’s arc had me bawling like a baby. gotg2 made me like gotg1 more, which is part of how i judge the quality of a narrative series tbh (and why i think series are so hard to make). when the first gotg3 trailer came out and it was clear this was rocket’s story, i was obsessed. i didnt watch any additional trailers or read any more comics — rare for me. i wanted to go in completely blank. then i went back to the theatre to rewatch it three additional times (i have never before gone to see a movie more than once in the theatre). i was like… almost bursting with love for this stupid raccoon at this point.

then i got around to reading his grounded comic arc, and it was like — the dam burst. i hadn’t written fanfiction since 2017ish, and hadn’t been on tumblr since 2016, but i was like — i have to write about this fucken raccoon. i need to take care of him lol.

so when you ask what media - i guess all of it? in increments? because of course now ive watched most of his various cartoon incarnations, read probably 70% of the comics content, halfway through a stream of the 2021 game, have one of the novels (sitting on the tbr pile) and frankly the love just continues to grow.

now that ive taken up thirty-two years of your life, i just want to say im so glad you found this fandom and this community. he may be an anthropomorphic raccoon but he’s meaningful to people, in so many ways. im so very very glad that he could be that for you, and that you’re here.

congrats again, nonnie. i hope post-graduation life rewards you with supportive people who love and understand you, with joyful new experiences, good health, and everything you need to live happily and fully.

[granulesofsand]

🗝️🏷️ mentions of fights, trafficking, the shitshow that is life

I’m so tired. We’ve been up 36 hrs against our will cause the people in the shelter be fighting right outside our room, tried to break em up and got bit while the staff stood there wide-eyed.

Went to the library Monday and Tuesday, technically it’s Wednesday now, looked into universities out of state so we could get our degree without looking over our shoulder all the time. Turns out we are required to apply as a transfer student, but are immediately disqualified because we don’t have the credits or GPA — which is 70% not our fault, we were being trafficked and weren’t allowed to get legal help or accommodations for the wounds we kept coming back with — even that damn bus driver who never let us board, who publicly announced that our lack of mobility was not his problem. But no exceptions.

Yesterday I was searching up community colleges in the states with the 4 years we like, trying to qualify as a resident in those areas. We’re homeless, no permanent address, so the hope is we can move our ass out to a shelter there and apply for scholarships. Found some places that are cheap enough, offer housing for better than the area, few that got meal plan (it’d cost us, but easier to do schoolwork when we don’t gotta be foraging food in our spare time).

This shelter, though shitty, is about as good as we’ve ever seen. Our case manager says he’ll help us find a way there and a place to stay, but that we’d be paying transportation. We can fit all our shit into three bags including our school bag, might be able to rearrange and shove that in the big suitcase. I hope they’ll let us take two, we got some nice clothes from the Goodwill we won’t be replacing anytime soon. We still have to wait for our SSN to come in the mail, can’t apply for shit without that.

And our chronic dehydration is making our skin crack and peel, so we’re looking like a million bucks (/sar).

We’re alive, though. As much as some of us regret the sacrifices we made to leave, we couldn’t have made use of those luxuries dead. If it takes us another two years, that’s what it takes. We’ll get there — crawling on our belly and running on spite, but we’ll get there.