#but I've tried to break out of my habits and do things like buy things that make me happy

[bandgie]

Agora Hills

Changbin x fem!reader

synopsis: You thought breaking up with Changbin was for the best, but he's here to remind you that's completely and utterly wrong.

warnings: MDNI 18+, suggestive themes, exes-to-lovers, rich!changbin, he's an asshole but means well, some angst mostly fluff, thats it lol

1.5k words

It's not as though you hated Changbin, quite the opposite actually.

He's caring, sweet, and would rip the shirt off his back if you asked. He would treat you well, spoil you like a baby. He's really the whole package...all for one thing.

As sweet as he is to you, he's too snobby with other people. You knew he had money, lots of it. Anyone with that amount to their name can let it get to their head, but Changbin loved showing off how much he had. You couldn't do it anymore.

The final straw was when you were out on a double date with your friends. The restaurant wasn't up to Changbin's taste, and he made it very clear he did not like it to everyone. You tried to awkwardly laugh it off, but it was hard not to when he said, "This is why I don't like hanging out with the middle class, no offense. You guys just have no taste."

You saw red. Here was your boyfriend belittling the class your family has had to work their way into. With clenched teeth you apologized to your friends, broke up with Changbin, and had your friends drive you home.

It's been two weeks, and he's been calling you nonstop. Text after text, call after call, voicemail after voicemail. When you weren't picking up, he started sending gifts to your door. Jewelry, bouquets of flowers, clothes you knew cost more than your rent. Changbin had a habit of showing his love through materialistic ways, but it was getting annoying having to return them back to his address.

"You should ask for a car," your roommate chirps. 

You only rolled your eyes and groaned in return. You slumped further into the couch before burying your face in your hands. 

"You're supposed to be helping me," you say frustratingly. 

"I am," she protests. "Your shit car is breaking down, again, and you and I both know damn well your little sugar daddy would love to buy you a better one."

Angrily, you place your hands on the sides of the couch and sit up. "He's not my sugar daddy! Don't call him that."

Your roommate tsks and shakes her head, "Whatever. Have you called him at least?" 

You shake your head back, "I haven't spoken to him since that night."

"Well, maybe you should," she reasons. "Some guys need to hear it more than once, especially if you just up and left him like that. Who knows, maybe you can work things out too."

"I have," you stress. "He's just so...ignorant sometimes. And plus, I can't take him back after what he said to you."

Rather than seeming upset, your roommate shrugs. "I've heard worse. Plus I don't think he meant it in a bad way, like you said, he's just a little ignorant."

Her aloofness makes you both on edge and at ease. It's good to hear that she wasn't as offended as you thought she'd be, but her being so nonchalant about your situation is irritating. 

In times like these, you wish someone could just tell you what to do. 

"I say you call him," she answers your prayers. "If he's an ass, it only proves that you were right to dump him. If he's not, then you either owe him a better breakup or another chance."

Finding resolution, you stand to your feet and grab your phone from the coffee table. "You say it like it's so easy."

"That's because it is."

-

Changbin picks up on the first ring. Not that it should surprise you, but the rehearsed words die in your throat when he answers with an overly excited hello?

When you don't answer he prompts you again, "Baby...are you there?"

You can feel the way your heart clenches at the pet name. It's only been a mere two weeks since you've heard his voice and you're already wanting to cry. 

"Don't call me that," your voice is small. 

"Why not?" He asks. You can hear how shaky his voice is, but you convince yourself it's the static. If he really cared about you, he wouldn't have said that in the first place. "Are you not my baby anymore?"

You have to chew on your bottom lip and look up to the ceiling of your room to keep yourself from crying. A few seconds pass before you speak, "I dunno...Changbin you really...you really messed up."

"I know, baby, and I'm so sorry. I'm stupid. I hurt you and embarrassed you in front of your friends. I would do it over again if I could, baby believe me. We can fix this, I can be better. I love you, you know that."

He's right, you do know that. There wasn't a moment in your relationship where you doubted his love for you. Changbin has been a little snobby before, but that doesn't compare to his overwhelming adoration for you.

"I love you too Binnie," you sniff. "I wanna fix this too."

You swear you can hear him smile behind the phone. "That's all I need to hear baby. You mean so much to me that I can't even explain it, you know that?"

Despite the tears on your waterline you laugh, "Yeah I do Binnie. You mean a lot to me too."

Changbin laughs with you. "I miss you baby...it's so lonely in my mansion."

Whatever tenderness you had filling your heart dissipates and is replaced with agitation. "Jesus this is exactly what I mean! It's those little stupid fucking remarks that-"

"No! Baby baby I didn't mean it like that! It's a Doja Cat song-"

"-and here I was really wanting to make things work and you just-"

The two of you begin to talk over one another, the previous confessions nearly forgotten. It takes Changbin profusely apologizing and begging for you to stop arguing. 

"Over the phone isn't gonna cut it. I'll send a limo and you can come over. Please baby, we can fix this."

You sigh heavily and collapse on your bed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Okay."

-

No matter how many times you enter Changbin's house, if you can call it that, it always leaves you breathless. Polished floors, high ceilings, with chandeliers dangling up above you. It's clean, not a speck of dust in sight, most likely thanks to the many invisible housemaids. 

He had ushered you to his room, sitting you on his couch as he remained standing. 

It felt good to see him, even if you were pissed. He was as muscular as ever, a black tank top showing his pecs and arms deliciously. He must've worked out before you came, he tended to use the gym as a stress reliever. 

"There's really no excuse I have other than I'm stupid." Changbin starts. 

You let a small breath of air out that mimics laughter, "You don't have to tell me that.

Changbin smiles at you, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Yeah." He pauses. "At the dinner, I really don't know why I even said that. I didn't mean to hurt you, or your friends. It's was inappropriate and fucked up of me. We can go and I can apologize to them. Anything you want me to do, just name it."

Timidly, he gets on his knees between your legs and takes your hands into his own. "I love you. I love everything about you even if I complain like an idiot. I'm just not used to...some things, but I don't want that to be the end of us. I can learn, and I can change. Just don't leave me. Please."

God, if there's one thing Changbin is good at, it's begging. His hot breath fans over your bare legs, sending chills up your body. You can feel the heat of his body rolling off onto yours. He looks beautiful. His dark, messy curls that sit at the top of his head, the broadness of his shoulders, the way his lips pout. 

As big as he is, he's still a baby.

Your baby.

Gently, you untangle your hands from his, and his face drops for a moment. You quickly place them on his face, pulling him forward until his lips meet your own. 

Changbin squeaks at the feel of your kiss, but his initial shock turns into passion. He grips the side of your face with one hand while the other steadies himself on your knee. It's gentle, the way he pulls back for a moment before diving back in.

There’s nothing but love in his featherlight lips enveloping yours. All you can feel is him, his passion, his devotion to you. All the things he wants to say- no, he needs to say is conveyed through the kiss.

His hands snakes to the back of your head, pushing you deeper into his mouth. It doesn't take long before his lips don't feel like enough, and you're both opening your mouths to taste each other. 

It makes your heart swoon to know that he tastes the same. Familiar. Safe. 

Changbin grows bold, the hand on your knee moving up to grip the plushness of your thighs. 

"So, you forgive me?" He asks between kisses.

You pull back and pretend to think, "I don't know. Why should I?"

This makes Changbin smile, fully. "I can show you. Would that be better?"

The hand on your thigh inches to the hem of your shorts. The way his warm fingers caress your skin makes you involuntarily open your legs a little wider. 

"I guess that'll do for now."

a/n: this is a little different from what I usually post, but I like it. hope you do too! thank you @then-make-me for editing/proofreading!

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 18 | Hangman x OC

Summary: It's hard for Jake to come to terms with the fact that Jessica thinks he's good enough for her. He doesn't want to doubt himself, but changing your habits is hard. Jessica feels like she's inching closer to getting tenure before Brian returns, and she allows herself a break from work to celebrate her boyfriend's birthday.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral, angst, language, mention drinking and driving, 18+

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jake opened his eyes and groaned softly, snapping them closed again to shut out the warm sunlight on his face. 

"Good morning." The softly whispered greeting and the gentle fingers in his hair told him he made it to Jessica's place before he passed out. And now he had a hangover. He lost control of himself last night at the bar, and he drove himself to his girlfriend's place and went to sleep like some sort of asshole. 

"I'm sorry," he croaked, trying to swallow against his dry mouth. "I'm so sorry."

Jake felt her lips on his forehead, and he melted at the sweetness of it. He'd been terrible last night. Not at all the kind of man she deserved. "Do you want me to try to make you breakfast?" she asked, her lips skimming his ear.

"No. I want you to stay right here with me."

"Okay," she replied with a little laugh, and she let Jake hold onto her, tucking her head under his chin. Losing this now would be the worst thing that ever happened to him. "Did you have fun last night?"

He swallowed again. "I knew you were busy, and I didn't even mean to bother you."

The way she touched him was almost too much to handle. Her fingers were teasing along the shell of his ear as she played with his hair. "I'm not too busy for you."

Jake opened his eyes again to see Jessica looking up at him. She was actually perfect, and it hurt him to say, "There were some girls at the bar last night when I was with Bradshaw."

The puckered wrinkle that appeared between her eyebrows sent him into an immediate panic. "Oh." She started to pull away from him, but he couldn't let her.

"Jessica." His voice was just a harsh whisper. "No. Not that." She froze up in his arms as he said, "I just... I've never turned women down before." He felt absolutely disgusting admitting that out loud to her, but he had to. He kind of even needed to hear himself say it. "Last night was the first time. Because of you. Because of us."

Her posture softened incrementally as she asked, "What happened?"

It was more the way he felt about everything. "Nothing really happened," he replied, kissing her cheek. "Just me feeling like I'm not good enough for you. And then I drank too much."

She was quiet for a moment, and he braced himself for her judgement. Surely if he could see he wasn't good enough for her, then it must be glaringly obvious to Jessica too. But her fingers made their way back up into his hair. "I take it they flirted with you and Bradley? Tried to get you to buy them drinks? Touched you?"

"Yeah," he grunted. "Wanted us to teach them how to play pool. I had to aggressively tell them no. Then I sat at the bar with Penny after Bradley left to pick up his wife. I drank a little too much and then called you."

Jessica wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled in closer again. "Are you sure you don't want breakfast?"

He was completely taken aback. Jessica's fingers skimmed the hair at the back of his neck as she kissed his nose and cheek. "You're not upset? That I literally floundered over how to say no to someone? That I didn't even know how?"

She shook her head slightly. "Why would I be upset? You're handsome and funny. You're going to get hit on. Girls are going to flirt with you and touch you. Are you going to cheat on me?"

"No!" That was the easiest question he'd ever answered. Last night caught him off guard and threw him for a loop, but that was never a question at all. "Of course not."

"Okay, then," she whispered. "I think I understand how you used to be with women, and I'm not upset about it. I don't think you'd be as good of a boyfriend as you are if you weren't serious about me."

"I'm serious," he told her, tangling his fingers in her long hair. "I am."

She grinned and closed her eyes, before her smile faded a bit. "You didn't judge me when I told you about Brian."

Jake ground his molars together. "Because absolutely none of that was your fault, Baby."

"Well, you didn't do anything wrong either." But then she froze, eyes fixed on his face. "Wait. Did you drive yourself here last night?"

He swallowed hard. "I did."

"Jake!" she gasped, panic in her voice. "What were you thinking?!"

Jessica rolled him onto his back and straddled his waist with her hands on his chest, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears. He rubbed her arms as he said, "I sat at the bar and tried to sober up first, but I needed you."

She actually sobbed. "Don't do that ever again! You could get hurt. Or hurt someone else. You could have called me for a ride." Tears fell from her eyes and slid down her cheeks, and it hit Jake right in the jugular that she was more upset about this than anything else. 

"Come here," he whispered, collecting her against his body. "I'm so sorry, Jess. I'll call you next time. Or I'll get a ride. I was so caught off guard without you around, I couldn't even think straight."

Her lips found his neck as she said, "Well next weekend is your birthday, so I'll be at your fancy Navy bar with you then."

"That'll be perfect."

She laughed softly. "But I'm used to the literal dive bar that is Chippy's, so I might not fit in."

"You will. And Penny has Sam Adams."

With another kiss to his neck, she sat up on him and wiped her eyes. "Breakfast?"

-----------------------------

Jessica wasn't oblivious to the signs. She knew Jake must have been a bit of a playboy before. It seemed like maybe she was the first girlfriend he was serious about. And she was okay with that. Very okay with that. If he was trying to get his footing under him, then that meant he wanted this to last. 

He stumbled into her kitchen, half dressed with his hair sticking up everywhere and Jessica in his arms. "I'll make breakfast. You might never have to cook again."

"Oh, I love the sound of that," she giggled as he looked in her refrigerator with one arm wrapped around her waist. 

"Okay, you really need to go grocery shopping, Jess."

"What's the point? You've been spoiling me nonstop."

He just grunted, but he had a smile on his face, and a few minutes later, she was eating an omelette. Between bites, she asked, "What do you want for your birthday?"

"Nothing," he replied, taking a bite of his own breakfast. 

She smirked. "Maybe a quiet night in together?"

"I want that every day, Baby," he said as he inhaled the rest of his food. "Not just for my birthday."

If he really didn't want anything, she hoped he wouldn't be annoyed that she got him something. She had it all wrapped and ready to go by the middle of the week. 

On Wednesday morning, she was standing at the front of her largest lecture, organizing her notes, when she saw Dr. Rosenthal bustle in. He looked tired, and once again Jessica felt bad that there would be no way to really repay him for everything he was doing for her.  

She hopes this would be the lecture that really wowed him. She'd been teaching these topics since she was a grad student, and she was damn good at it. He was still getting his notebook ready when she was about to call everyone to attention, and that's when she heard it. Skateboard wheels on the industrial tile floor. Luca skated in through the lecture hall doors, and then he popped his board up into the air. It looked like he was still in his pajamas, and Jessica wanted to die from the look of disgust on Dr. Rosenthal's face.

"Luca," Jessica said, shooting him a pleading look. 

"Hey, Dr. Reed," he greeted. "Surf's looking good today, but here I am!"

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Maybe trying to relate to her students and find common ground with them during her office house wasn't the way to go after all. When she opened her eyes, Dr. Rosenthal was shuffling some papers around; he had all of her notes, including those regarding which students were passing and which ones were failing. He would see Luca's low grade any second now, and she hoped this wouldn't hurt her.

But Luca's grade was slowly but surely coming up in this class, and Jessica was actually really proud of all the work and effort he was putting in. And she immediately resigned herself to the fact that it would be more important for one of her students to be comfortable and confident enough in her class to get a passing grade than it would be for her to get tenure. Luca brought up a few wrinkled pages and handed them to her with a smile before taking his seat next to his skateboard. It was all of the extra practice problems she gave him during her office hours last night. He'd finished all of them in less than a day, and they looked to be correct at first glance. 

She nodded at him, set them aside and collected herself. She made a few announcements and ensured that everyone's attention was focused on her, and then she started teaching. Even though she knew Rosenthal was there, she tried not to look at him. Surprisingly, when she asked if anyone could answer one of the problems she wrote out on the board, Luca raised his hand. 

When Jessica called on him, he said, "I think it's like.... 200 meters per second?"

"Yes!" she replied, kind of surprised but very pleased. "Nice work, Luca." And honestly, that's why she was here. Even though she had to teach Brian's class which was outside of her wheelhouse later this afternoon, she would get more practice problems ready for Luca as well.

At lunchtime, Jessica decided to stop by and see if her friend was around. They wouldn't be able to talk much about the tenure review, but at least maybe they could eat together. Besides, her office was bigger and nicer, and the math hallways were quiet at this time of day.

Jessica could hear her friend's soft laughter before she saw her, and when her office door came into view, she was standing there with her husband. "I don't want to go back to work," he told her with a smirk on his lips and his big hand on her butt. "I want to stay for round two. Maybe sit in one of your lectures and be your top student." When she tried to sneak away unnoticed, Bradley called out, "Hey, Jess." His wife spun around with a smile, but he kept his hands all over her. 

"Hi! Did you stop by for lunch?"

"Yeah," Jessica replied, and she was sure her cheeks were flushed. "But you look busy."

Bradley kissed the side of his wife's neck and whispered something in her ear that made her eyes go wide, and then he was walking away as he told her, "I love you." He winked at Jessica and said, "I was just leaving. Have a nice afternoon."

Jessica held her little lunch container from Jake and examined her friend's dreamy expression. This wasn't the first time she felt like she was interrupting them, and she wondered how often Bradley actually stopped by for a few minutes at lunchtime. And then she felt her cheeks grow warmer. "Sorry I'm interrupting... again."

Her friend laughed. "You're not. He interrupted my lunch."

"Yeah," Jessica whispered. "But he brought you dessert."

Both of them were laughing hysterically as Jessica followed her into her office.

--------------------------

Jake knew Jessica was busy, but he always felt better when he was with her. He'd been avoiding her office hours so she had time to keep tabs on the new students she'd absorbed from Brian's class, but that also meant he didn't get to have a mid week sleepover. On Friday night, he caved and called her when she was probably on her way home from campus. Tomorrow was his birthday, and he'd been hoping to have her sleepover, but he wasn't about to invade her schedule at the moment. He stripped off his undershirt and collapsed on his bed as the phone rang and rang.

"Jake!" she gushed when she answered. Even the sound of her voice made him a little dizzy. "How's the birthday boy?"

He chuckled. "That's not until tomorrow."

"I know," she said, "but it's really a celebration all weekend long, right?"

"If you say so, Baby."

"I do say so," she replied. "I'm just getting in my car now."

He hummed as he thought about her in one of her little skirts and sweater sets and high heels, and almost instantly his cock responded. "You're getting in your car?" he repeated, picturing her sliding across the soft leather interior. 

His hand slipped inside his black briefs without him even thinking about what he was doing. It had been more than five days since he'd fucked his girlfriend, and he was starting to ache. He had no idea how he'd ever be able to handle a deployment now as he wrapped his hand around his cock. 

"Yeah, but there's a road closed, so it's probably going to take me forever," she mused as he heard the engine start up.

Jake grunted. "Just as long as you get home safe, Baby. You want to tell me about your day?"

"It was so good!" She sounded really upbeat and excited, and Jake tried to listen to every detail with his hand just sitting there, but it was impossible. Her voice was too sweet. She was the only one he ever wanted. He started stroking himself when she said, "I was thinking about you all afternoon. I taught the same problem that you answered correctly in my back to school mini lecture. You know... the night we met."

He moaned. "Best night of my fucking life." He pulled himself free of the elastic and stroked himself slowly as he said, "Imagine, a hottie with a PhD offering to buy me a three dollar beer."

She giggled which left him groaning. Then the line went quiet. "Are you... what are you.... it sounds like you're touching yourself?"

"I am," he replied. "I just started. Your voice is too sweet, Jessica."

"Oh," she sighed. "Guess what I'm wearing."

"Fuck. You're making it worse," he complained playfully. "Are you in one of those little skirts?"

"You know, I think I might be."

"And high heels?"

"Always."

"And one of those soft little sweaters?" he moaned.

"Yes, my green one."

That one was his favorite. It was the same shade of green as that lingerie set he loved. He was a mess, looking down at his cock, unsure whether he wanted to rub this out quickly or make it last. "I wish you were coming over tonight, but I know you're busy as hell."

"Jake, of course I'm coming over. I'm already most of the way there. Don't you want me to?"

He let out a sigh of relief. "Jesus, Jessica. I need you. Yes, I want you to come over."

She laughed and asked, "Are you going to keep touching yourself until I get there?"

He took a few deep breaths. "If I do that, then I won't be any fun when you get here and I only last three minutes."

"Maybe that's true... but I'm sure you can muster up what's needed for round two. Right?"

"For you? Absolutely," he promised as he eased his hand up and down his length. 

"I'll be there in five," Jessica said before ending the call, and Jake stood and tried to walk around his condo. His dick was rock hard, and he occasionally stroked himself to relieve some of the need, but he wanted to wait for his girl. 

"Damn," he groaned through gritted teeth. He hung out of the top of his underwear and bounced with every step he took. Then he finally heard the knock on his door. He opened it without even checking to make sure it was her, and Jessica gasped when she saw him.

"Hi," she said as her wide eyes and parted lips gave way to a little smirk. She was wearing the little outfit he'd been able to picture just perfectly, and her hair hung around her face in soft waves. "Want me to take care of that for you, birthday boy?"

"If you wouldn't mind," he replied, closing the door behind her, and much to his delight, she tossed her bag aside and dropped right to her knees. His cock was inside her warm, wet mouth immediately, and he was being treated to the luxury of her tongue drawing lazy circles along his length. "Jessica."

She hummed as she took him deep and started to suck, and he knew it was absolutely a lost cause. He just smoothed his hand along her hair before taking a fistful at the back of her head and let himself enjoy this. He grunted softly at the perfect feel of her as she bobbed along, looking up at him with crooked glasses. 

"Fuck." He came as soon as her fingers grazed his balls, and he watched her sputter and swallow all of him down. Her movements started to slow, and he was almost twitching from overstimulation when she finally withdrew him with a little pat on his hip. 

She was smiling up at him as he released her hair. "Shit, Jessica. What was I thinking? You shouldn't have been walking around alone after dark, Baby."

She kissed his thigh, and then he started to pull her to her feet. "It's not that dark out yet, and besides, a very nice man with a knife walked me inside from the parking lot." When his eyes went wide, she cupped his cheek and said, "I'm only kidding."

He groaned and kissed her, tasting his cum in her mouth which just made him feel even more protective. In a lot of ways, he was still getting used to being in a relationship, but he really didn't want to fuck this up. "Next time, even if it isn't quite dark yet, I will come down and walk you inside."

"Even if you have an erection?" she asked, snuggling up in his arms. 

"Especially if I have an erection. It'll scare off the guys with knives," he whispered, making her laugh. The words were right there. They were always right there. He realized it after the fact that he almost told the girls at the bar last weekend that he was in love with his girlfriend. He kissed her forehead and said, "I wasn't sure if you were coming, so I only have leftovers."

Jessica moaned. "Jake Seresin leftovers are still peak gourmet, and I'm starving."

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the kitchen and set her down on the counter before he tucked himself back in his underwear. She was all smiles as he opened the refrigerator and started naming what he had in there. "Surprise me," she whispered, and he started heating up a huge bowl of chili to share with her. 

When he pulled out two forks, he kissed her cheek and said, "Why don't you tell me all about your week? And then I'll take you to bed."

----------------------------

Jessica thought about saving his present for later, but right at midnight, she kissed him and whispered, "Happy birthday." He smiled even though his eyes were closed where he lay on the pillow next to her, completely sated. He'd done a fine job of unwrapping her, kissing every inch of her legs before removing her skirt. Tasting her everywhere while she modeled her green lingerie for him. Fucking her nice and slow until she was practically begging for more. 

When she started to climb out of bed, he reached for her hand. "Where you going?" His voice was raspy and sounded a little tired. 

"To get your birthday present."

"I only wanted you," he replied, and she just looked at him and wondered how he could be so sweet. She loved the way he really seemed to care what she was doing and wanted to be involved. He'd been sweet through the fraternity fundraiser and even through everything with Brian. Honestly, the little wrapped box inside her overnight bag didn't contain much, but she hoped it would convey how she felt. 

"Well you got me and something else, too," she whispered, kissing his hand before slipping out of bed. She could feel his eyes on her naked body as she rooted around for the gift, and then she returned with it. She handed it to him and slipped back in bed next to him. "You can open it now since it's officially your birthday."

He just looked at the black and green striped wrapping paper for a few seconds, and then he set it down and turned toward her. Jake kissed her with so much feeling, it knocked her breath out of her lungs. "Thank you," he whispered, his forehead resting against hers as he stroked her cheek with his rough thumb. "I can't even remember the last time I got an actual birthday gift. Even my mom and dad just send me a gift card every year."

She kissed him this time before she said, "Well maybe you should lower your expectations a little bit." But he just shook his head as he picked up the box and started to unwrap it. 

"Jessica," he whispered when he held the framed print of a Super Hornet in one hand. "This is so cool."

She smiled as he examined it closely, taking in all of the hand drawn lines and detailed markups. "It's kind of like the top secret F/A-18 schematics that you let me look at."

He turned toward her and raised an eyebrow. "Baby, I stole those for you."

She could feel her cheeks heat up as she buried her face in his neck. "I know," she whispered. "And I thought this would always remind you of me."

He gently set the frame down on his nightstand and pulled her on top of him. "Everything reminds me of you. And I think about you all the time."

But she still felt embarrassed for no reason even though she was basking in his words. She kissed his neck softly and reached up to run her fingers through his hair as she whispered, "Same, birthday boy."

She was starting to doze off when he said, "In the morning, will you help me decide where to hang my gift?"

"Of course."

"And we can make waffles again? And if you're a good girl, I'll eat your pussy again."

She giggled. "If that's what you want for your birthday breakfast, then sure."

He let his hand trail down her back to squeeze her butt. "That's absolutely what I want for breakfast. A real culinary treat." She rolled her eyes, but he didn't seem to be kidding. "And then tomorrow night, I'll take you to the bar and show you off to all my friends."

"And you'll buy me a Sam Adams while I cheat on Chippy."

Jake barked out a laugh. "What Chippy doesn't know won't hurt him, Baby."

-------------------------

The birthday boy better buy her all the Sam Adams she wants. And I just know for a fact Chippy will be able to tell she went to another bar! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 19

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[megamindsecretlair]

Girlll... i cant get outta my mind the idea of tyrone fkn his girl soo good and deep.. like it’s so emotionally relieving this nigga damn near givin out free therapy

her tearful eyes rolling back while she chants “where u been all my life”

They both sprunggg. and ofc tyrone’s smug ass is flattered & making it worse by hitting that spot over and over. Talking sweet but so dirty & taking over all her senses <33 oooh

A/N: Couldn't get this ask outta my mind so sorry to the ones that came before!! I guess I never updated ya'll. My bad LOL. I hadn't expected the last Tyrone fic to be the last before my vacation. I'm baack. But came back with a nasty cold. So I'm not sure when fics will resume full time, but this was too good to pass up! Thanks for trusting me with it, I hope I did it justice! I wanted it to be a drabble but just kept going. There's worst problems to have so I won't complain. Also, more apologies to the Tyrone asks. I've started Snowfall soooo Franklin Saint fics incoming! This taglist is getting so huge! Thank you! If you want to be added/removed, let me know! Make sure your ages are in your bios, I won't tag empty blogs.

Worship

Pairing: Tyrone x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem receiving), cum play, possession kink, size kink, all consensual. Praise kink. Use of n-word. FLUFF. Soft Tyrone.

Summary: *see ask* Date night turns a little steamy.

Word Count: 3,251k

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @notapradagurl7 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee

There was no special occasion. The stars aligned for you to have a rare night with nothing to do. Tyrone didn’t have anywhere to be that night. He took you out to dinner and you had so much fun getting ready for him. 

You threw on the dress from the back of your closet that you had been saving. Took your time with your makeup and hair. The anticipation made it a treat. You had been out with Tyrone before, but tonight felt good. 

At dinner, conversation flowed naturally. It was easy and Tyrone made you laugh more than you had before. You laughed to the point that the other dinner patrons gave you scathing looks. But you and Tyrone only had eyes for each other.

It has always been like that between you two. Your eyes found each other across rooms or down the aisles in stores. Tyrone pretended to hate running errands with you. But you had a sneaking suspicion that he liked the domestic shit. He liked when something caught your eye and you’d run back to him bouncing on your toes, giving him puppy eyes, and asking him to buy things for you.

You hated asking for shit. He tried to break you of that habit. You still didn’t like it so you compromised with little shit you found in stores like fuzzy socks or a new stuffed toy. 

After dinner, Tyrone was in no hurry to rush you back home. Instead, he took you to the Venice pier and you walked along the boardwalk at sunset. The California sun was lazily slipping below the horizon and people were still trying to hawk their wares before it got too late and the cops came around. 

People skated in the park and other couples were walking along. The storefronts had people rushing in and out. Tyrone held your hand and listened to you babble about anything that popped into your head. The annoying neighbors, the yard needed fixing, your stupid ass coworkers. 

“One of these days, I’ma convince you to let me take care of you,” Tyrone said. He pulled you into him and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. This close to the beach, a chill spread from the breeze off of the ocean. 

“You already take care of me,” you said. Tyrone kissed your cheek. 

“More. I know you hate that job,” he said. 

And you did. You had been together for a while, but there were still some things you were too proud to accept. “Being taken care of” wasn’t in your vocabulary. You were learning. You needed more time. And Tyrone was content to wait…mostly. 

You looked up and found yourself on the long stretch of road in between Santa Monica and Venice. Under the pier, Tyrone stopped and slipped off his kicks. You took off your sandals and you trudged along the sandy beach until you were stepping into the icy water. Your feet sank into the wet sand and squished in between your toes.

Tyrone stepped behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He placed his chin on your shoulder and inhaled your sweet perfume. He kissed your neck. He stepped into you until no part of your backside didn’t touch his front. And you noticed that he was a little excited.

“I’m always excited around your sexy ass,” he whispered in your ear. 

You giggled and shook your head. It amazed you that you were still so needy for each other. You were needy for each other’s time, touch, and words. You stood and watched the horizon. 

Oranges, pinks, and purples meshed and collided to form a painting in the sky. The few seagulls flying around were trying to scavenge leftover food from asshole tourists and LA natives. The salty air was refreshing and cool.

“I want to give you the universe, baby,” he said with a sigh. 

You rubbed his hand around your waist. “You already give me so much,” you said.

Both of your tones were soft and wistful. This moment required a certain reverence for some reason. The joining of two people so madly in love that it hurt to contain it. On more than one occasion, you found yourself out of breath with how much you were in love with this man. 

“Sometimes I feel like it’s not enough,” he said. 

You turned around in his arms until you could look into his dark brown eyes. You wrapped your hands around his broad shoulders. 

“You know that I love you for you, not for what you give me. You are enough for me,” you said. 

Tyrone smirked and kissed you. You thought it was going to be a little peck but he captured your lips with his and kept exploring your mouth. His tongue licked your lips and pressed inside. He swallowed your sighs and held you closer, his arms tightening around you. 

He withdrew from your lips slowly, reluctantly. He rubbed his nose against yours. “I fuckin’ love you,” he said.

“I fuckin’ love you. Take me home, Tyrone,” you said.

Tyrone chuckled and kissed you again, stepping close until you felt his noticeable bulge. “Shit, I’on know if I can make it that far,” he said. 

You giggled against his lips. He said shit like that until he had you folded like a lawn chair and had cum at least three times. 

Tyrone pulled away from you and brought his hand up to caress your cheek. How did you get so lucky to find this man? This man radiated love and strength with every dip of his lean as he walked and the set of his shoulders. He took every one of your insecurities about being a thick girl and mildly shy and tossed them in the wind. You felt him. You never questioned his love.

Yet and still, you didn’t know what you did to luck out on him. You thanked whoever was listening that you got to enjoy him for as long as possible. 

Tyrone dusted as much sand off of your legs as he could manage. You walked back to the car with anticipation building in between you like a living thing. Tyrone kept touching you. Finding ways to “stabilize you” and “make sure you’re straight”. He’d pull you into his side to step around a tiny ass rock or pull you closer to whisper something nasty in your ear.

“I can’t wait to taste between your legs. Bet that pussy ready for me, ain’t it?” 

“Tyrone!” You’d say and squeeze his hand. Your cheeks would burn and your heart would skip a beat. 

“Tell me she ready for me,” he whispered against your neck. 

“You get on my nerves!” You couldn’t form the words. Of course you were ready for him. Every time you saw him, your panties were instantly soaked and hot. Tyrone licked your neck and you giggled. 

“Boy, focus on gettin’ us home!” Tyrone laughed and you made it to the car. He had towels in his trunk so that you didn’t have to get sand absolutely everywhere. He knelt on the ground and cleaned off your legs one by one, smirking up at you while he played with your feet. 

You swatted at his head and giggled. Tyrone cleaned off his legs as well and you climbed into his car. Tyrone sped all the way home, rubbing your leg with one hand while his other stayed on the steering wheel. 

You felt like you were going to crawl out of your skin with need. Everything was in hyperfocus. The bright street lights took on a hazy hue blending between the golden lights and reds and greens of the traffic light. 

Blessedly, you made it home. Tyrone barely pulled into the driveway before he was opening the door for you and yanking you out of the car. Your giggles mixed with his huffs as he slammed the car door and pulled you into the house. 

You were apart for half a second while he closed and locked the door. Then his hands were searching for yours in the dark, your lips seeking each other. Your kisses were rushed, hurried, needy. 

He pushed you into your bedroom, forcing you to walk backwards. But you weren’t scared. You trusted him to guide you. 

He turned on the light and it stung your eyes for a bit. You blinked a few times until you could see the raw desire in his eyes. 

His breaths were coming so fast that you saw the rise and fall of his chest. “Turn around,” he said.

You turned as he said. He stepped close and his warm breaths fanned over the back of your neck. It raised goosebumps on your flesh. 

He unzipped your dress and let it slide over your skin until it pooled on the floor. He sucked in a sharp breath as it revealed your black lingerie set. A simple bra and panties but there were strategically set lacy parts that were like peek-a-boo windows. 

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he said. 

“Sweet talker,” you said with a giggle. 

“I’m serious ‘bout that shit,” he said. 

He spun you around and kissed you. He took off his jacket and his black T-shirt and then rejoined your lips. His jeans went next until it was just his dark boxer briefs. Fuck, he was beautiful. Thick. He had a beautiful ass, strong thighs, and a wide chest.

Tyrone slipped your panties off and groaned at how some parts clung to you. Cool air kissed your pussy and you shivered. With no warning, Tyrone pushed you onto the bed and spread your legs. 

You yelped as your ass hung off of the bed. He knelt on the floor and threw your legs over his shoulders, spreading your further. He bit his lip as he looked at your pussy.

“I’m the luckiest nigga in the world,” he said. 

He suckled on your pussy, immediately catching on your clit and you cried out. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you yelled. 

You weren’t prepared at all. You had no idea how fast he was going to devour you. Tyrone always kept you guessing. Sometimes it was fast, sometimes it was slow. Your fingers dug into your bed sheets as he fully supported the lower half of you. 

That annoying voice in the back of your head wanted to protest. He couldn’t support all of you.  

You told that voice to shut the fuck up and enjoy his lips on you. You moaned as he swirled his tongue. In no time at all, you were already cumming on his tongue with a loud cry. 

“Oh shit,” you said.

Tyrone chuckled and nuzzled the top of your pussy, kissing you there. “Mhm, that was too quick. Gimme another one,” he said.

“But–” 

Tyrone went back to flicking your clit with his tongue. You were still sensitive from your quick orgasm and your hand flew to his head to push. Tyrone flattened his tongue and licked you from entrance to clit.

“Move yo fuckin’ hand,” he growled and returned to eating you out. That didn’t even seem the proper term. You moved your hand but you wanted to put it back. He added a finger to push inside you. Then he added two and pumped it into you while he continued to lick, suck, and slurp up all your juices. 

You were cumming again, cursing and squirming. Tyrone kissed your thighs as you wiggled and writhed beneath him. He nipped the skin between your thigh and pussy and you jerked. He laughed evilly as he stood up. 

“Let me see them titties,” he said. 

“Tyrone, please, I can’t move,” you said. 

“The hell you can’t. C’mon beautiful,” he said. He grabbed your hands and made you sit up. You were boneless and leaned forward to lean your forehead against his stomach. He smelled so damn clean and sexy. He chuckled and rubbed the back of your neck. 

You kissed his stomach as you took forever to slip off your bra. “Mmm,” Tyrone moaned as you bared yourself to him. 

You scooted further up the bed so that he could climb on. “I ever tell you how fuckin’ sexy you are?” Tyrone asked.

“Shut up,” you mumbled. 

He chuckled. Your body was sensitive to the touch and the bastard knew it. He kissed your belly, licked your stretch marks, and settled in between your legs. He kissed and bit his way to your nipples.

You jerked beneath him with a hiss. “Shit,” you said. 

“So. Fuckin’. Sexy,” Tyrone said. With each word, he kissed your titties. After he spoke, he laved his tongue around your nipple and sucked hard enough to make you buck off of the bed. 

“I promise, I’ll give you everything,” he said. He kissed his way up your skin until he got to your neck. He paid special attention to kissing your neck and licking your pulse point. You ran your hands over his back and neck, rubbing the back of his, and playing with his thick braids. 

“I want to give you a real home, baby. Buy you everything you need,” he said. He kissed up your jaw and kissed you. 

“Tyrone,” you whispered against his lips. 

“I want to make you comfortable. I only wanna see you smile,” he said. 

“You already make me the happiest woman ever,” you said. You tugged on his braids until he leaned up and looked into your eyes. 

“I’m so happy already, Tyrone,” you said. 

He gave you that rare sexy smile. Where he smiled wide and it transformed his face. Your heart shattered. He killed you with that smile.

“I can’t help it. You make me wanna be a better man,” he said. He kissed you, cutting off whatever you were going to say. 

As you kissed, his hands explored your body. He rubbed and kneaded your beasts. He squeezed your nipples to the point of pain and then rubbed the sting away. He grasped your waist and slipped his hands around your ass. He grunted and massaged your booty. 

You moaned and brought your legs up to wrap around his hips. “Mhm,” he said. He pushed your legs until your knees almost hit your shoulders.

His hand worked at his briefs until he was able to free himself. The tip of his dick gathered up your arousal and pushed inside of you. “Fuuuuck,” you moaned. 

He sank in inch by inch with a clipped moan. He kept eye contact as he slid home and you opened your mouth but no sound came out. He stole the air from your lungs like a nasty thief. “Breathe baby,” he commanded. 

You panted. You couldn’t get a full breath. He stopped sliding in. A smirk played on his lips while you adjusted to his size.

“Dammit,” you struggled to say. 

“Relax, baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He kissed you, pressing his tongue inside. 

Your nails dug into his shoulder while you tried to accommodate him. Tyrone kissed his way to your ear. 

“I know you want this dick, so quit fuckin’ playing with me.”

His deep voice and nasty words made you clench around him and he slid in more. He chuckled and kissed your ear. “You like it when I talk nasty, don’t you?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded. 

“Pussy so fuckin’ tight. Open up, baby. Let me give you all of it,” he said. He licked the shell of your ear and you moaned. 

Tyrone pushed his hips in and he stretched you out. “With yo pretty ass. I’m so fuckin’ lucky to be with you,” he said.

You took a deep breath and managed a weak laugh. “I’m the lucky one. You make me feel so good,” you said. 

Tyrone bottomed out and hit some spot inside of you that made you bow your back and cry out. “There’s my fuckin’ spot. My girl need that shit deep, don’t you?” 

He was impossibly deep. It felt like he was in your heart. You were practically folded in half. Tyrone pulled out and then slid back in faster. For every slide out, he came back in twice as hard and made you cry out each time. 

“Oh fuck, Tyrone. Wait!” You said. He was bouncing you so hard, that the top of your head grazed the headboard. It didn’t hurt, but if he slammed any harder, he’d send you through the wall. The thought alone made your pussy clench around him and he groaned. You brought a hand up to brace against the headboard and protect your head. 

“Can’t,” Tyrone said. He placed his hands on the back of your thighs as leverage and slammed into you over and over. He pounded relentlessly. 

You cried. “Please, please,” you chanted over and over. The hand not on the headboard was pushing at his chest. But not to push him away. Just to steady you and match his rhythm. 

“Fuck, missed this. Missed you. Missed my pussy,” he said in between grunts. His eyes were locked on yours. On your expressions and pathetic whining. Sweat beaded on his head and ran down the side of his face, disappearing into his light beard. 

“Tyrone…” your voice was breathless. Your throat burned from your harsh breaths. 

“So fuckin’ beautful. Look how you take my dick. You takin’ all of it. ‘Cause you deserve it, don’t you, baby?” 

“I’m…” You couldn’t speak. Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head. You saw an entire universe of stars in the back of your eyelids. Tears ran down your cheeks. Your body tensed before you exploded and shattered. Your body broke apart, came back together, and ripped apart again. 

Tyrone was saying something but you couldn’t hear him. Your moans drowned out all sound. Tyrone kept pumping into you as if he was truly trying to fuck you through the wall. He joined you and unloaded inside of you. He pumped you full of him and the filthy squelching was like its own music.

Tyrone stayed inside of you and moved every so often. You were surprised that he was still hard. He rotated his hips and you moaned, pushing at his chest. 

“Where have you been all my life,” you cried. Your legs were still pressed against your chest. It should hurt. But Tyrone knew your limits. And he wasn’t done wringing every last orgasm out of you tonight. 

“Prayin’ for you,” he said. His lips hovered over yours so that they were touching but not fully kissing. 

You couldn’t take anymore. He was too sweet. Too perfect. He gave and gave and you didn’t know how you could repay him for everything. For healing things inside of you that you hadn’t realized were broken. For seeing all the cracks inside of you and pouring love into them. 

You shook and cried and he kissed your cheeks. He kissed them both, alternating between the two. You were sure he tasted the saltiness of your tears but he didn’t seem to care. He kissed them anyway, looking into your eyes. Right when you stopped moaning, he’d move his hips and remind you that you were still connected. Still joined. That his cum was still oozing out of you, aided by your arousal. 

“I will protect you as long as I breathe, baby. You’re mine, forever,” he said. Then he kissed you and proved for the rest of the night that you were his.

&&&

Loved this? There's more! The Secret Tyrone Files Masterlist

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for calling out my friend's spending habits?

✈💸 to find later

I (NB 20s) have been struggling to find employment for a long time. I've been struggling a lot with money- I'm technically indebted to my bank due to an overdraft I dipped into during my last weeks of university while paying off surprise fees, and in the entire year since have been unsuccessful in paying it off for any meaningful length of time. The stress has been immense and I've been avoiding like the plague any kind of personal purchase or leisure activity that might cost me anything. It's a mindset that's been making me profoundly miserable and that I'll probably struggle to get out of for a long time.

However, in the past few weeks, I've managed to land what I can only describe as my dream job. It doesn't start for another couple months, and the pay won't be fantastic (it's an internship), but without a doubt it will change my life. Desperate to do something nice and give myself a break, members of my family agreed to lend me money via plane tickets to do a nice trip this summer and see my best friends abroad, my last big hurrah before entering the full-time workforce for the rest of my life (and being able to pay them back). And I've been really excited! I've been saving even harder than usual, scraping up cash and politely asking grandparents. It won't be easy to support myself in another country in my financial situation, I understand that, but I'm at a point where I think I can do it for a short time and not be a burden on the people who are hosting me.

However, the only issue comes with my friend (NB 20s). I've known them for years, we're extremely close, and we've been waiting for a chance to see each other again for most of that time not knowing if it would ever happen due to my financial situation, so this is the opportunity of a lifetime. They really want to host me, for at least 2 weeks, and do all these nice things together we've been planning. But in the past month or so they've all but drained hundreds of dollars from their bank account in art commissions and room decorations for themself, all of which they've been excitedly showing off to me and our other friends, all the while running out of money entirely. They can't pick up work from their (seasonal) job anymore, either, so there's no way for them to earn back the money now, and recently they've started having to push their commissions just to cover their student loan payment this month. In ordinary circumstances I wouldn't mind and would try and help them out, but I won't be in any financial position on the trip to cover their bills as well as my own (at least not regularly), and I feel like this would have been so preventable if they'd just... picked less wildly expensive things to buy as a treat, knowing the circumstances.

They've said they're also stressed and need to buy themselves nice things sometimes, which I totally agree with! I'm not that much of a party pooper, they are in a rough situation themself right now and the stuff they bought does make them genuinely happy. But it also sucks to watch them then have to struggle to pay for bills and necessities because of it, and I feel really selfish for thinking of it in the framework of our time together later as well. I've done my absolute best to be able to spend at least a few weeks having a great time with them not worrying and pinching pennies while taking care of myself, but now I'm worried we're just going to spend the trip with both of us stressed out of our minds and stuck at home struggling to pay for gas. I'm an anxious person, and the few times I've tried to bring up my worries in a more gentle way, they've vehemently reassured me everything will be fine, but now I'm leaving in just over a week and everything seems like it's getting worse instead of improving.

I know I should be just glad to spend time in their company, even if it is just at home, but I can't stop feeling like the way they've been spending money in the leadup to this has been really irresponsible and preventable. But even if so, it made them happy in the moment so i should be happy for them too, and surely it's just straight up none of my business? It's also not like they can take it back now- it's already happened, and they can't earn the money back if they wanted to. I feel like if i called them on it at this point it'd just be a dick move and come across pointless and jealous, but I also can't help but think it's unproductive to let this gnaw at me the entire time, like I should really be communicating this kind of upset and talk it out first in case it comes to a head and boils over and ruins our whole time together.

I'm aware I'll be long into the trip by the time this posts but it'd be nice to look back and see other perspectives.

[mysadblacksoul]

Backslide - 3/13 of the Clancy album

Grab a coffee and let's start this madness

MV

Tyler is wearing the same clothes that he wore in Overcompensate MV to I would assume that this MV takes place right after

Let's break down the signs first

We see the return of Ned Bayou as well as FPA, now standing for Food Petrol Etc.

You can buy 9 buns for $21, love the symbolism

There is a Jim sign omg. Baby is having his own bubblegum business

Of course the Bishops sign with 9 lines marked on it

I could've sworn that the black sign says "Dema Vapes", but looking closely I believe it's "Velma Vapes" lol

What is more, the cones (?) are yellow and I'm pretty sure that the fact that there are 5 of them is not an accident

They sold him bread that went bad lol. Nah for sure it's not the case since he gives the same bread to a child

But I believe that the scene and the lyrics are closely tied with Stressed Out

Now the next scene is interesting

I think that the bad weather is a simple metaphor for feelings of anxiety or fear

We can see that Tyler was contemplating then he was suddenly pulled from his thoughts

This is when the scene changes to normal, right? Exactly on the line It's over my head

Then we move to the scene with the kid

And I really believe that this little lad is personification of Ned

Like he has the same boba eyes lol

No but for real, this is parallel to Chlorine - kid is giving Tyler a cup just like Tyler gave to Ned. Yet he accepts it and drinks whatever is inside and Ned just shudders

Another interesting thing, that could make my point more valid is that the kid literally asks Is that a stain? You should change / Are you doin' good? / Did you solve all of your problems? like he knows Tyler very well and is in a way looking out for him

It's like he's keeping Ned by him - okat I'll stop

It might be a stretch, but the N kinda looks like a mirrored band symbol, do you also see it?

If 0.75c is equivalent to the cost of one bun than Tyler is being ripped off since he paid $21 for the pack instead of $6.75 lmao

Something is really wrong with those buns lmao

Then the mood changes again, but this time is even worse. Like his mental health is declining even more and even faster

The bread is wet, the day is ruined, thanks Mr. Joseph

You killed it Josh, love your creative mind

*funny music stops*

Now let's talk about the way how the MV is looping itself

I would say that it is a demonstration of the twisted circle that is life

Maybe it's a very basic analysis but I think of all the complicated lore-oriented MVs this one is uncomplicated

What is shown here is how our psyche can play tricks on us and how we can complicate a rather simple situation ourselves

If Tyler hadn't had dark thoughts then nothing would have happened to the bread, so he would have just gone and given it to Josh

This shows how our psyche itself can abolish the situation in which we find ourselves

Looping, on the other hand, shows that as long as we don't do anything about it ourselves, we will be stuck in this fishbowl (see what I did there?)

Maybe it's one big AD to check your mental health and a sign to try to get better

Lyrics!

Rat race, place to place, adding weight / Tendencies on repeat, innit? - rat race for sure happened in Dema, and repeat is literaly the loop, innit meand that Clancy is canonicaly British

Benefit from a shoe with no lace - shoe with no lace would make you fall back on the behaviour that you are running from

Take the seat with the crease in it - seat of someone who already tried to change their life, or even who had the same dreams and hopes for better future like Clancy

This could be parallel to When I leave, don’t save my seat/ I’ll be back when it’s all complete from Chlorine

I don't care, you control me / Leading me anywhere - well, all I should say is Dema don't control me and we all know the rest of the story

I don't wanna backslide to where I've started from - he doesn't wanna go back to his back habits as well as doesn't wanna go back to his life before he tried to escape

There's no chance I will shake this again - if he falls back one more time that will be the end of him. His psyche won't take it anymore and his plans will be buried

'Cause I feel the pull, water's over my head - this is parallel to Fall Away And I, I can feel the pull begin. But it also gives me the parallel to Holding On To You MV, the scene with the rope

Strength enough for one more time - like I said, this would be the last attempt to change everything

Reach my hand above the tide - it could indicate that his physical strength is also wearing out

I'll take anything you have / If you could throw me a line - again with the line. But it also can mean that he can endure anything now, he just needs a little helping hand

I should've loved you better - this line can be directed both to himself but also to the person who extends his hand to help. He might not have appreciated both parts before and now regrets it

Do you think that now's the time / You should let go? - This line is like both a request and an apology. As if he wants to say “I'm sorry I treated you badly before but please don't leave me when I need help”

Bad place, on a hundred-dollar bass - this line is also giving me Stressed Out. You can imagine the cheap bass being transported on the bicycle right?

Kinda wishin' that I never did "Saturday" - I think that he doesn't mean the MV irl lol, but the regret of taking part in Bishops' manipulation altogether

Is that a stain? You should change - a play with mentioning Saturday and the lirycs She said that I should change my clothes

Are you doin' good? / Did you solve all of your problems? - like I said before I believe that this is Ned looking out for Clancy, wishing him well

Thanks for asking, in a way, but / Accidentally uncovered a new one yesterday - safe to say that he is not doing better lol

What happened to what I brushed under the rug? - what happened to how well he used to be able to hide his problems and true feelings

I used to be the champion of a world you can't see / Now I'm drowning in logistics - if viewed as a fact that he created this world it now looks like he wants to regain all control over it. Logistics is to take care of the management of planning. And once again we see the mention of drowning

The bridge is acting as an externalization of his myhs and fears that even if he is outside the Dema, the Bishops will still have control over him

The entire song is about both regaining conrol over the world of Dema but also regaining control over himself, his psyche.

The main theme is about not going back to old habits.

The most important thing here is progress and pushing forward.

Because one wrong move can make all the work in vain and we will sink to the very bottom.

Safe to say that I liked it haha

[strawburry01]

That's Not Me

Summary: Reader and Angus listen to your record collection and bond over music and parent problems (it's not very deep)

word count: 2k

Authors Note: this is actually the first stuff I've ever put on tumblr and I've currently been working on this as I'm insanely doped up on wisdom teeth painkillers so sorry if it reads weird. I'm trying to start writing more in general n shit so you have any weirdly niche or specific scenarios or desires pls just shout em out (i see you, you're valid). ALSO: Walk with me here, you're telling me Angus Tully wouldn't be a big fan of the Beach Boys? I know this sad ass mfer would eat Pet Sounds up. It's a short album, do yourself a favor n listen to it (or at least check out the songs I took the blrubs from for this) cause it's some GOOD STUFF. That's all.

You stood over the lone dresser in your room. Your prized possession of a small record player balanced precariously on top of it with your stack of records spread out across the rest of the top. You’d been collecting records even since your first year at St. Mary’s, despite the rules against it that the sisters there tried to enforce at every opportunity.

But they had left you here, alone, at Barton so it’s not like they could complain about it now. Nobody was even here besides you, that odd Professor Hunham, the sweet chef Mary, and that Angus Tully boy. It had been a few days since the rest of the boys had been picked up in a helicopter, leaving the four of you to the echoing halls of the empty school. 

You plucked the new Fleetwood Mac album out of your pile and slipped it onto the turntable before placing the needle gently down onto the black vinyl. Stevie Nick’s smooth vocals began to tinny out of the small record as you tapped your foot to the song as you continued to rifle through your stack of records. 

Your parents had left you to stay at St. Mary’s for break as they were stuck on some business venture in Germany. A pro of these trips, they funded your buying habits in exchange for your passive agreement when it came to these sorts of holidays. You missed the days when you were so young they had to just drag you along everywhere they went. You felt like a real family then. Now it just felt like you were a burden to them- another person for them to give their money to. 

“Where’d you get that?” a voice asked from the doorway, startling you out of your thoughts. You quickly swing to the doorway, still gripping the empty sleeve of Fleetwood Mac. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, it was just the lanky figure of Angus, eyeing you with his arms folded. 

“Ever heard of knocking, ya’ prick?” you said, rolling your eyes as you turned back to the music.

“Where’d you get the record player?” he asked again, taking a step into the room. You shrug, keeping your focus on the records and not Angus deciding to invite himself in.

“I stole it from the confiscation closet at St. Mary’s”.

“Really?” he said in shock, almost impressed.

“No, of course I bought it you weirdo” you laughed. He looked much less impressed. “I bought the record player with my own money from working at the pool over the summer, but my parents have given me money for most of these records” you explain, gesturing to the stack. Angus took a spot right next to you, his air of cigarettes and old book pages wafting by you. He stands silently as he begins looking at each record. For him previously having taken every chance for a smart-ass comment at your expense, his silence was a welcome change. For a few minutes the two of you just stood, side by side, flipping over albums and making hums of approval.

“You have Pet Sounds!” Angus said, perking up, as he picked up The Beach Boys album. You can’t help but look over at him. The corners of his mouth are actually pricked up for once, like he’s actually happy.

“You like the Beach Boys?” you asked. He glances over in your direction with his big brown eyes with an incredulous eyebrow raised, in disbelief you would question such things. You can’t help but feel your stomach flip. Honestly how dare someone so annoying be graced with such eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I? They’re really good” he said as he turned back to the album, “d’ya think you can play it?” he asked as he handed it over. You take the album and slide the vinyl out as you place it onto the tabletop. Angus takes a seat at the foot of your bed, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

“Make yourself at home” you sarcastically said as you started the record, before leaning against the dresser, facing the bed. He laughs.

“Such a generous host” he quips as Wouldn’t it Be Nice starts playing from the album. The song seems to zone him out as he stares into the wall behind you, gently nodding along to the music. 

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long

“What are you still doing up?” you ask, breaking him out of his trance. It was almost midnight, and Hunham would certainly kill you both if he caught wind of you two conspiring. 

“What are you still doing up?” Angus retorted, “it’s not very St. Mary’s of you to be up late listening to such devilish music” he mocked, waggling his fingers in the air for effect. You can’t help but laugh. He loved acting like your hijinks were an act against God ever since you’d been moved over for the break, all just because you went to St. Mary’s. 

“Oh please, the sisters have started praying for my ears because I listen to anything with a guitar,” you say as you swat at him. “They found my single Johnny Cash album and made me clean the dishes for a week to learn…something”. Angus snorted at that and shook his head as the next song faded in from the speakers.

“How have you not gotten kicked out yet?” he asked, “it seems like you just hate it there”. You half heartedly shrug and sit on the corner of the bed he isn’t occupying, your legs graze each other before he quickly moves it closer to his side. You’d be lying if you said your breath didn’t catch in your throat a little. It was a weird experience- being stuck in such close quarters with someone for about a week now. You had both started throwing crumpled up notes to each other during the mandatory class/detention time Hunham prescribed to you both. Most of the notes were just complaining about the situation, how cold it was, how bad Hunham smelled, how hungry you were, how much you wished you were both anywhere else. You drew Angus back a beautiful stick-figure masterpiece of the two of you laying on a beach, although he got pretty mad at how dramatically messy you’d made his hair.

 He would never admit it, but he kept it and used it as a bookmark. 

“I do hate it, but my parents have moved heaven ‘n hell to keep me there, so I’ve kind of just given up on getting out” you said as you looked down at your feet, swinging back and forth above the floor. He silently nodded, sitting with it for a moment before adding.

“My parents are just waiting for me to mess up so they can send me away” he said quietly, suddenly having a vulnerable air about him. He’d never brought this up before to you. Sure he was a bit of a prick, but he didn’t deserve to get sent off to another school just for being annoying sometimes. He balled his fist in an anxious tic on his knee, and before you can stop yourself, your hand is on top of his fist to try and calm him, or be there for him, or just show him he’s not alone, or maybe you did just secretly want to hold his hand, somewhere deep down.

“It’ll be okay” you respond back, softly. You both freeze at your hand resting on top of his. Everything goes silent except Brian Wilson’s voice coming from the record.

Being here with you feels so right, We could live forever tonight, Let's not think about tomorrow

He slowly unfurls his fist and gently begins to entwine his fingers with yours, his hands are warm, and vaguely shaky, like he’s ready for you to pull away at a moment's notice and act like this was all him imagining it. You wait a second before you gently lean your head onto his shoulder, the scent of cigarettes strong from his jacket, and you can hear him inhale sharply before realizing you’re not leaving. 

“You don’t have to pity me y’know. I’m an asshole to everyone, I get what I deserve”

“Shut up Angus”

“Okay” he said with a small laugh as he absentmindedly moved his thumb back and forth on your hand for a while before breaking the silence, “d’ya want to, uhm,-” he says before tripping on his words and going silent again. You can’t help but laugh at him getting stuck on his words, truly a first for him. You nudge your head so you’re looking up at him from his shoulder. He stares intently ahead, as if avoiding your eyes. 

“Want to what? Kiss? Do I really have you this nervous?” you tease him which draws a quick reaction from him. He glares down at you before his face softens and he looks away again. 

“So what if you did” he scoffs and suddenly stands, letting your hand go as he heads to the door. 

“Angus wait I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that-” you say, starting to apologize and follow after him as you stand up. The record skips with an unfortunate scratch before continuing to play. You grab the cuff of his jacket before he can leave.

They say I got brains but they ain't doing me no good, I wish they could

“Angus wait-” you say as you try to pull him back. He turns and suddenly your face is in his hands and his lips are on yours. Before you can react he pulls back and lets you go, leaving him standing in front of you, waiting for your move. 

“I’m going now” he says before turning again to leave the room, acting as if he didn’t just kiss you. You slide by him and slam the door in front of him before he can actually leave. Your back props the door shut as you face him, holding out an accusatory finger.

“No- you’re not just going to kiss me and leave and act like you didn’t just do that” you say, feigning some sense of authority as you look up at him, your finger in his face. His lips twinge upwards again before he goes serious again.

“Should I not have?” he asks, “you were the one who put the idea in my head” he said with a smirk. You jab your accusatory finger closer to his face as you try not to knee him in the crotch right then and there. 

You open your mouth to reply, but before any noise can come out there’s a knock on the door.

“Miss? Everything alright in there?” Hunham asks from the other side of the door. While you stare at Angus in petrified horror for the next few minutes, he can’t help but look rather satisfied with himself. 

“Oh everything’s just fine professor, thanks for your concern!” you answer back, faking a cheerful tone as your eyes never leave Angus’s face, who is failing to conceal his laughing behind his hand, watching you struggle to maintain your cool.

“Mr. Tully doesn’t happen to be in there with you, is he? I noticed his room was empty,” Hunham adds through the door. You stare at Angus’s dumb smirk on his face, scrunched to the side of his face, with his stupid brown eyes looking down at you with a mix of attraction, humor, and misfortune. You grab his jacket collar and pull his face to your level, before swiftly kissing him with the fervor only someone knowing how much trouble they’ll be in for doing so could have. You quickly let go of his jacket and swiftly nudge him back before looking his speechless figure up and down and swinging open the door. 

You fake a large toothy smile for Hunham as you hold your hands in front of you, mustering up any energy you had left for the performance of a lifetime.

“Just showing him my record collection sir. I didn’t realize the Barton boys had such a passion for the music arts” you say, looking over at Angus from over your shoulder to see if he was going to be any help in this. He of course wasn’t and just stayed quiet as he brushed past you to the hallway with Hunham.

“A lovely collection” he murmured in the hallway as he finally made eye contact with you from behind Hunham who shakes his head and sighs.

“I wish you two wouldn’t be slamming doors at midnight, but the music arts is an exciting and important endeavor. Off to bed though, say your goodnights,” he said, as he elbowed Angus, certainly not letting the two of them alone again.

“Night” Angus tells you with his smirk, putting his hands back into his pockets. 

“Goodnight Angus, perhaps we can continue our conversation later tomorrow” you say, leaning against the doorframe with your own smirk looking back at him. Hunham tuts Angus back down the hall but not before he quickly winks at you, and you can only laugh at it all.

[thee-morrigan]

ode to a conversation stuck in your throat

The Wayhaven Chronicles Ava du Mortain/Petra Carlisle (f!detective) 4.3k words rated G read it on AO3

Petra hides from her own welcome-home party by organizing her bedroom. Ava plays a word in Scrabble I've only ever seen in Chaucer. Both of these are totally normal behaviors. (also shout-out to @serially-wayhaven for having the Brilliant and Inspired idea that A would use Middle English words in Scrabble. Most correct take of all time, tysm for the inspo 💖)

—

She had been in her room when Ava found her, cross-legged on her bed, somewhat aimlessly rifling through a cardboard box, one of several such half-emptied boxes lining one wall of her bedroom. Strewn across the bedspread next to her lay a scattered sweep of trinkets she'd evidently been sorting through when Ava interrupted her.

"Avoiding your own party, detective?"

"Technically I'm not a detective anymore," Petra replied, looking up from her unboxing and smiling at the woman in her doorway.

Ava shot her a look that suggested she was missing the point. "You're still the guest of honor."

"It's my party, I can hide if I want to?" Petra offered back with a sheepish grin.

Ava rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth twitching in amused exasperation. "Seems unusual for you, though."

"Unusual times," Petra shrugged, turning her attention back to the box in her lap. "And I think I just needed a break," she admitted.

Ava studied her for a moment, her keen eyes softening as she took in the other woman's unusually subdued demeanor. Tried not to take in the amount of long, bare leg currently on display, thanks to the small white shorts Petra wore.

"I can understand that," she said finally, leaning against the door frame and crossing her arms. "Things have been... turbulent, to say the least."

Petra glanced up from her task and offered Ava a small, lopsided smile. "That's one way to put it."

Ava hesitated, stiffening a bit and looking as if she might be contemplating a retreat. "Would you prefer to be alone?"

"No, stay," Petra said, her smile lingering. "Please."

Ava nodded, once, a hint of something like relief flashing across her face as she pushed herself off the door frame and stepped further into the room, letting the door swing shut behind her. Whether to buy herself time to decide where in the small space to situate herself or from the force of a habit centuries in the making, Ava paused a few steps in, eyes sweeping across the room as though she were considering the strengths and weaknesses of its layout (few and many, respectively).

She jerked her chin towards the box in Petra's lap. "You're...unpacking, then?" She glanced sidelong at the assortment of objects next to Petra's bent knee, trying to determine any possible thematic coherence to the spread, though none presented itself.

"It needed doing at some point," Petra replied, her own gaze flicking across the haphazardly sorted items beside her: a pile of faded postcards and Polaroids, several brightly colored notebooks, and what appeared to be a small, stuffed walrus in an improbably bright shade of blue. Little more than a jumble of memories, and ones she'd been on the verge of re-boxing. "I think this one is probably better left as it is, though."

"Why?" Ava asked. "What's in this one?"

"Other than a mess, you mean?" Petra answered with a huff of a laugh. "I think this one is mostly stuff from undergrad. It was probably in this box already when I had to pack everything up for the...renovations." She pursed her lips, though whether in thought over whether that were truly the word she wanted or resigned amusement at the memories it brought to mind, Ava couldn't quite tell.

"Renovations," Ava echoed dryly, corners of her mouth quirking upwards. "An interesting way to describe your upstairs neighbor's bath crashing through your ceiling."

Petra laughed then, a hint of her usual good spirits sparking in her eyes. "It did result in renovations," she defended, her fingers tracing along one corner of the box. "Not ones I'd planned for or particularly wanted, but renovations nonetheless."

"I suppose that's one perspective," Ava conceded, her gaze softening as Petra's laughter filled the room. In that moment, she looked a little less weary, a little less subdued.

The room became quiet once again, silent save for the soft rustling of Petra sifting through the hodgepodge contents of her college self and the muffled chatter and laughter from the party outside her bedroom door. For a moment, Ava let herself watch her, eyes tracing the curve of her shoulder as she leaned over the box, the delicate lines of her fingers as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, dark strands lined with silver in the dim glow of the lamps she had placed about the room. Her gaze lingered on Petra's profile, features cast into soft relief by the warm wash of light. She felt the now too familiar longing to reach for her, accompanied by an equally familiar ache pushing against her ribs.

She cleared her throat, pulling herself out of her reverie. "Find anything interesting?"

Petra shook her head, not looking up from the box. "Nothing too exciting," she replied. "Just some old papers, some cards from friends, that sort of thing. Oh!"

A faint smile tugged at her lips as she gingerly lifted a worn-out Scrabble box from amidst the clutter. It was worn at the edges but still intact.

She held it up and wiggled the box slightly. "Ava," she started, her grin widening, "Any chance I could interest you in playing a game with me?"

Ava's lips twitched at the proposition, the tension that had settled between her shoulder blades unwinding at the sight of Petra's brightening expression.

She looked at the box, then at Petra, and inclined her head, trying to keep her voice steady. "I think I could be persuaded. Though you would likely find Nat to be a more worthy opponent for such a game," Ava said, although she had already crossed the remaining distance between them, moving to perch at the foot of bed across from Petra, her back ramrod straight as if she needed the posture to keep more than her spine in check.

"Perhaps," she replied with a shrug, shifting the half-unpacked cardboard box off her lap and onto the floor, settling the game box on the bed between them. "But I'd rather play with you."

Though her tone was playful, her eyes were serious as they met Ava's. For a fleeting moment, the world seemed to shrink until it contained only the two of them and that single, sparkling thread that seemed always to stretch and tangle between them. Ava felt the weight of Petra's gaze, tangible as any physical touch as it traced the contours of her face. "Very well," Ava conceded, her voice whisper-soft. She reached for the box, her hand brushing against Petra's for a fleeting moment. A soft shiver ran through her at the contact, and she jerked her hand back as if even that brief touch had burned her.

"I suppose it would be impolite to refuse, especially since this is your party," she added, trying to regain her composure.

"Indeed it would," Petra agreed with a soft breath of laughter, though her grin dimmed a bit, face growing a little more distant, as if she were reeling herself back in.

# The better part of an hour later, and the two were in a deadlock.

“Thirty-two points,” Petra said evenly, though she couldn’t quite hide the pleased grin curling up at the corners of her mouth as she sat back from straightening an e.

“Xebec?” Ava asked, one pale brow arched with obvious curiosity.

“It’s a Mediterranean sailing vessel,” Petra replied promptly.

“Is your memory that good or do you simply make a habit of reading the Scrabble dictionary for fun?”

“A woman likes to maintain an air of mystery about these things,” she grinned back.

Ava laughed then, quiet but open. Petra wanted to bottle that sound and mount it on her wall, like one of those ridiculous, tacky singing fish that were so strangely ubiquitous in the early 2000s — wanted to be able to release that unexpected waterfall of melody whenever she needed a boost of serotonin.

She watched as Ava studied the Scrabble board, her lips pressing together as she mentally shuffled around letters and possibilities. Petra couldn’t help but study her in return, those green eyes alight with competitive focus, her nose scrunched slightly in concentration, which Petra found endearing in a way she couldn't quite articulate.

“Shend. Twenty-two points.” Ava’s voice pierced through her thoughts, drawing her back to the present moment.

"Shend?" Petra asked, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow. "Is that even a word?"

"I assure you, it is a word. Although you are free to challenge it, if you'd like to forfeit your next turn."

Petra narrowed her eyes, tapping one violet nail against the wood of her letter rack, lips pursed as she considered. Ava's face was, as ever, impassive — a mask of cool, collected certainty. But she could be certain and still be wrong.

"Challenge," she said finally, sliding her phone out of her shorts pocket.

Ava crossed her arms and watched as Petra tapped away at her phone, brow furrowed in concentration. And smirked when, after a moment, Petra gave an indignant hiss. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

She squinted at Ava. "This should not count."

"So it is once again my turn?"

"It's archaic."

"But an acceptable word."

"It's Middle English!"

"But it is permissible."

Ava's smile broadened, pleased, and Petra couldn't ignore the flutter of warmth that spread inside her at the sight. She turned her attention back to her own tiles. "Just...play your next word," she muttered, the corners of her own mouth twitching upwards despite her vexation.

Those green eyes glittered as Ava drew fresh tiles and turned her focus back to the board. After another moment, she announced, "Waded for twenty."

Petra shot her a teasing grin. "Back in this century, are we?"

Ava rolled her eyes but shrugged good-naturedly. "I didn't want you to have to forfeit another turn simply because you didn't know a word."

"How very considerate of you," Petra replied, lips quirking as she dropped her eyes to her tiles. Her fingers ran over the raised letters as she mentally formed and discarded potential words before scooping up a handful of tiles, arranging them neatly on the board.

"Quetzal." She looked up at Ava with a triumphant glimmer in her eyes, the corners of her lips curling upwards. "For 127 points. Plus la, so one twenty-eight total."

"One hundred and—" Ava started incredulously, her eyebrows raising as she leaned forward to study the board.

"It's a bird," Petra explained, her triumphant smile morphing into a teasing grin. "From Central America."

"I know what it is."

"And a Q and a Z on a triple-word score..." Petra hummed, propping her chin on one hand, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Ava narrowed her eyes at Petra, but there was no real heat in her gaze. Instead, she let out a huff of laughter before shaking her head in disbelief. "I ask again: do you spend your free time studying the Scrabble dictionary?"

"You should know better than anyone how little free time I have."

"And yet you somehow find a way to acquire an encyclopedic knowledge of high-scoring Scrabble words," Ava retorted, her gaze fixed on the board before them. Her lips were pinched in deep thought as she studied the sea of letters sprawled across the game board.

Just as Ava reached out to arrange her next set of tiles, the door bumped open, the no-longer-muffled noise of the party beyond breaking their tranquil bubble and causing both women to look up at the surge of noise.

Tina leaned against the door frame, her silhouette bathed in the soft, amber light spilling in from the hallway. "Well, look at this," she said with a mock gasp, the words laced with humor. "Petra's actually found someone brave enough to face her across a Scrabble board."

Tina’s grin widened as she stepped into the room, a gust of laughter and chatter from the party beyond entering with her, breaking the fragile quietude of their bubble.

Ava raised an eyebrow, glancing across at Petra. To her surprise, Petra blushed, a soft pink dusting her face.

"Hi, Tina," she said, leaning back away from the game and folding her arms.

"Hey." Tina's grin grew wider, her gaze traveling from Petra to the letters scattered across the board. "No wonder we couldn't find you."

"Well, you would've had to look in like, four whole rooms for me, so I can understand the difficulty."

Tina ignored her and leaned back against the door frame, shifting her Cheshire-cat smile to Ava. "She didn't tell you?"

Ava lifted a brow. "Tell me what?"

"We should probably get back to the party," Petra interrupted, unfolding herself from the bed and rising, stretching as she did so.

Tina was unable to contain her mirth, her eyes dancing with delight as she glanced back and forth between a flustered Petra and the bewildered Ava. “Petra here,” she began, jabbing her thumb in Petra's direction, “Used to be quite the sensation on the Scrabble circuit. Nationally ranked, too."

"Yeah, like five years ago! It's not that big a deal," Petra objected.

"No one will play with her more than once," Tina continued, ignoring Petra's protests. "Because she's insufferable about it."

"I am not insufferable," Petra muttered, rolling her eyes, flush deepening.

Ava's eyes widened as she took in this new information, her gaze shifting to the game board then to Petra. There was an amused twinkle in her eyes as she said, "There's a national Scrabble circuit?"

"Sounds made up, right?" Tina tilted her head toward Ava, still grinning as she pushed off the door frame. "But it's totally true. You should ask to see her trophies sometime."

"I don't have trophies."

Ava's mouth curved upwards.

Petra scowled. "I don't!"

Then: "They're medals."

Tina tipped her head back and laughed. "Medals! That's even better," she declared, clapping her hands together.

"Go away, please." Petra groaned, dragging a hand through her dark hair and squeezing her eyes shut.

Still giggling, Tina raised her hands in surrender. "All right, all right. I'll let you get back to your game. Just wanted to check in on you."

"And make fun of me, apparently," Petra muttered, her arms crossed over her chest. The flush still hadn't faded from her cheeks, although the corners of her mouth kept twitching upwards.

Tina gave her a wink. "That's just a bonus," she said, before turning on her heel to exit the room. The door closed behind her with a soft click, muffling the party's noise once more.

Ava’s gaze remained fixed on Petra for a long moment as repressed amusement simmered in her eyes.

"All right, all right, don't look at me like that," Petra said, attempting to muster a glare and sinking back into her seat on the bed.

"I suppose I should feel pleased," Ava murmured, a teasing lilt in her voice. "I managed to play at least one word you didn't know."

"Because it was from the twelfth century."

"Perhaps," she said, her eyes turning back to the Scrabble board. "But a word is a word. Not that I think it has done much to improve my chances of winning this game."

"Admitting defeat already? How unlike you," Petra teased, folding her legs back underneath herself and propping her elbows on her knees, chin resting in her hands as she leaned forward to survey the board and their scant few remaining tiles.

Ava tilted her head and smiled slightly, her gaze locked with Petra's. "Why would I admit defeat when the game is not yet over?"

Petra chuckled lightly, her eyes sparkling with undisguised mirth. "Fair enough," she said, eyes shifting once again to the game board.

# In point of fact, the game had been over for awhile. At least in terms of determining a highest final score, anyway, given the well-padded lead Petra had secured for herself with words like "quetzal." "Hey, thank you, by the way," Petra said, pausing their cleanup of the finished game and wrapping one hand loosely around Ava's wrist.

The other woman's eyes flicked down to Petra's hand, though she didn't pull away. When she looked back up, her eyes showed only confusion. "For what?"

Petra shrugged, hand falling back to her side. "Just...I dunno. Hanging out with me, I suppose." She gave a light laugh, raising her eyebrows at Ava. "And maybe for not being a sore loser."

Ava's lips twitched at the corners, a ghost of a smile. "Consider it a welcome home gift, agent."

Petra snorted softly. "Guess I'll need to get used to your calling me that from now on."

"It will be an adjustment for us all, I'm sure. Though not an unwelcome one."

"Well, original offer stands," Petra grinned, leaning forward and sweeping tiles from the board and into her open palm. "Unless my new job requires I change my name, you're always welcome to just use that."

She brushed a hand over her hair, curving it behind an ear where it had fallen in a smooth, dark sheet across her face when she'd bent over the game board, glancing up at Ava as she did so. "Not that I expect you to. I mean," she corrected, mouth smoothing into a tense little smile as she looked back down at the board. "I know you prefer to...not do that. Which is fine! Whatever is more comfortable for you is fine. I want you to be comfortable around me. I mean I want you to be comfortable in general, obviously," she fumbled, giving another awkward hiccup of a laugh before pressing her lips tightly together and refocusing her attention on the Scrabble board, feeling her cheeks heat as she did so.

Conversations, she thought, unfortunately did not reward one for using all the words they knew in one fell tumble.

Not that Scrabble really did, either, of course. Bananagrams did, though. That game would have been the more apt analogy, she supposed.

...And now she was rambling in her own head, too.

Speaking of Bananagrams, she thought.

She did want Ava to be comfortable around her, though. For lots of practical reasons, of course, not least of which was their increasingly close work together. But also because she liked Ava. (More than liked her, actually, but she shut down that line of thought fast and hard, slamming and dead-bolting that particular mental door before it pulled her in like a tiny black hole.)

But liked her as a person — as a friend, she hoped — too. She hadn't regretted that disaster of a kiss, or any of the rest of it, even if, in hindsight, she might wish to have navigated that whole...encounter...differently. But she would regret it, she thought, if it meant no more evenings like this, no more conversations that didn't feel like playing hopscotch in a minefield.

Ava regarded her for a moment, then another, before she, too, began collecting tiles, perching once more on the foot of the bed across from her. A quiet settled between them, not entirely uncomfortably, the quiet scraping of wood on cardboard, the muffled clink of bagged tiles against one another, and the somewhat less muffled sounds of the party beyond Petra's bedroom door the only sounds.

Ava was the first to break it, sitting upright as Petra slid the lid of the Scrabble box shut, letting it rest on the bed between them. "It wasn't a bad way to spend an evening," she admitted, her tone softer than usual.

Petra blinked, the words sinking in. "No," she agreed cautiously, her gaze flicking to Ava's face and then back down at her own hands, pressed flat against the cardboard box. "No, it wasn't."

"Even if you did neglect to mention your...past accolades when you suggested this particular game," Ava continued, a wry smile once again playing at the corners of her lips.

Petra looked up again, that lingering rigidity easing from her a little, and she arched a brow. "Would you have preferred we played something else? I'm sure Tina had many additional drinking games she'd have loved to pull us into."

Ava shook her head, that almost-smile stretching just a little bit more as she huffed a laugh. "I do not care for losing," she began, and Petra snorted, rolling her lips together to keep from whatever laughter or commentary was itching to spill past them, though her eyes still danced with amusement.

Ava gave her a withering look, though it wasn't terribly convincing. "As you know. But I would rather lose to you in any board game, any number of times, than participate in further rounds of —" she tipped her head toward the noise coming from beyond the closed door. "—that."

The look that crossed Ava's face — deeply, intently unamused — undid her, and the giggles Petra had been holding so valiantly at bay bubbled forth. She clamped a hand over her mouth, but it did little to muffle the sound, warm and bright and infectious, sunlight piercing storm clouds.

"I never realized I was quite so entertaining." Ava tilted her head to one side, arching a single eyebrow at Petra's amusement, but the corners of her lips twitched upward nonetheless. It occurred to her that she hadn't seen Petra laugh quite this openly — this freely — in a long while.

The laughter slowly faded, leaving them in a comfortable silence within the confines of the room—away from the party, away from the outside world. Petra's hand fell away from her mouth and landed back onto the Scrabble box. She smoothed her thumb along one edge of it, eyes settling on Ava again.

"Next time there's a party we both want to avoid," she said, eyes still glimmering with residual mirth, "I promise to let you pick the game."

Ava raised a brow, her smile still tracing the edges of her lips, all the while a soft chuckle escaped her. "A generous proposition," she responded, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. "I might just take you up on it."

"I hope you do," Petra said, her voice laced with sincerity.

"I should actually be thanking you," Ava said after a moment, her tone dropping into something softer, something vulnerable. "For providing an excuse for a reprieve from... that." She tipped her head once more towards the door, her gaze following suit, as if she could peer through the wood and paint to the party on the other side.

"It is nice to have something almost resembling a break," Petra agreed with a lopsided grin, although her eyes lingering on Ava were somber as she studied her expression. As ever, she gained little insight from the profile of the commanding agent. "Though I don't imagine we're likely to get many such moments in the near future. You probably least of any of us, I'm guessing."

Ava's lips compressed into a thin line, a faint shadow of acknowledgment flickering across her face. "The nature of our work seldom allows for such... indulgences," she acknowledged, the familiar weight of duty and obligation settling across her shoulders like a well-worn cloak.

Petra nodded, understanding the unspoken burden that came with the roles they played— figures on a relentless, ever-turning carousel. She reached out, her fingertips brushing against Ava's hand in fleeting solidarity before she pulled back again, folding her hands in her lap.

"Ava..." she started, then paused, looking down at her hands again, her restless fingers, for a long moment. “If you ever need a place to go—a place where you don’t have to be decisive and tackle the hard stuff—a place where you don’t have to be the commanding agent—I can be that. If you wanted." She looked up from her hands with another half-formed smile, all blurred edges. "I won't even make you play Scrabble with me again."

“I cannot.” The words fell, quick and solid, from Ava's lips, as if pulled from rote memory, as if she had practiced denying herself the mere suggestion of seeking solace for so long that it had become basic instinct. Weighted by a lifetime of forging herself into something impenetrable.

Petra nodded slowly, a single dip of her head, something like resignation tightening along her jaw, her mouth. She couldn't really say she was surprised, or even truly disappointed, although she felt the bud of something like it pushing against her ribs.

Then Ava did surprise her, just a little, because she spoke again: “I do not know how.”

It was as if the words stumbled out from behind that stoic facade, laced with a vulnerability that Ava seldom allowed to surface. Her gaze shifted away from Petra's earnest eyes, fixing on some distant point, as if she were viewing a tapestry woven with the complexities of her own inner conflict.

“Well if you ever feel like trying…if you ever need a break, I can be that. I will be that place. For you.” Petra said gently, her voice a low murmur in the quiet of the small room.

She waited a beat, then another, and when Ava still said nothing further, she shrugged, rising from the edge of the bed and moving towards the door, the world beyond. As she reached the doorway, she turned, twisting back towards Ava, still seated at the foot of her bed. "If that ever feels like something you might want. Now or five years from now. Or whenever. Standing offer."

The corners of Ava's lips turned upward in a small smile, gaze softening as she looked at the other woman. "I'll keep that in mind, Petra," she murmured.

"I hope you do," Petra said, quietly but not weakly. With another flicker of a smile, small but genuine, she pulled open her bedroom door and re-entered her party.

[pianocat939]

Could we please get more of the yandere rottmnt with a younger sibling reader?

Sure! I've been kinda laughing for a while now over some random shitposting haha.

Tw: mention of murder, overprotective behaviour, controlling behaviour, crack and fluff

Some Hcs with Yandere Turtles with Younger Sibling MC

(MC is a turtle mutant for those who don't know)

✦Ramona✦

As we all know, he's the mama of the group. That solo mission episode where Mikey got babied at times? Yeah take that but amp it up.

He likes to carry you around just so he knows where you are and what you're doing. He especially does this if you're in the Hidden City.

Works together with Mikey and Donnie to have a nutrition management system. Primarily because he has a habit of spoiling you.

Bedtime at 10. No questions asked.

"No, you are not going to stay up until 3 AM giggling at videos on social media. Now, bed."

Asian kids, you know how your mom/dad just walks in and randomly gives you cut-up fruits? That's him. Gives you a hug when he leaves.

You are not allowed to touch hot foods/containers, let big bro handle it.

✦Le' bottomsworth✦

The spoiler/rule breaker brother ig.

You need to buy/get something but aren't allowed to leave? He has you covered, just say the word and he's sassily homosexual walking over there.

Teaches you sword art when you guys are free. Lets you win before going in for the "kill".

If you can't sleep bcs it's too early/insomnia then he'll know. He teleports or pokes a head through and keeps you company.

"Yeah so um. Do you have any dirt on Donnie? I need something good to attack him with."

You guys break rules together. It pisses both Raph and Donnie.

Texts you memes at 3 AM with 13 emojis alongside.

If you ever speak about a friend he'll get jealous real quick. He'll start interrogating you and makes up his mind to frame them somehow.

He teaches you self-defense yet does everything to ensure he does most of the actual fighting. He's not risking it.

✦Da Hermione Granger but in Purple✦

Builds you a protective shell whether you like it or not. You will wear it at all times other than sleeping. Oh did I mention there's a camera on the back side?

I know siblings aren't supposed to have favorites but Donnie will have a personal beef meter with Leo. (Right? I'm an only child so idk)

"I'm the favorite. Why else would they come to me every day? Leo, you stand nothing against me."

Tries to teach you about his tech, not only because it's his special interest but so he can brag he's the better parental-brother (oh and favorites).

Loves playing video games with you.

If he doesn't like certain media on your phone/devices he'll eliminate them. Including some of the memes Leo sent.

Shares his playlist like it's the last thing on earth to do.

If you like an interest in something and he notices it he'll buy/invent stuff.

✦Mi Left Gripper✦

Aww, it's your twin. Welp time to activate clingy af.

He whines if he isn't in the same room as you, to the point Raph and Leo have to pry him off.

Loves cooking your favorite meals! It's his way of showing that he loves you so much and that everybody else should burn away.

Draws you a lot too. If you're an artist he likes exchanging art styles, portraits, anything really.

Freaks the fuck out if sees even the slightest inconvenience in front of you.

"OMIGOSH! YOU STUBBED YOUR TOE! DONNIE, EMERGENCY CALL!"

Do you like fashion? If so, please exchange outfits with him so he can take the clothing to his secret shrine of his adorable twin!

Will jump on top of you to wake you up.

✦All✦

No leaving the lair without a trusted member of the family.

Friends can only be friends after background checks and approval.

Daily head pats are a must.

——————————————————

That was really on crack ok. Do you guys like the names I chose? I used all my brain cells for "Mi Left Gripper".

- Celina

[pokemonshelterstories]

Hi! As part of my care for him - and for my health too - I'm in the habit of taking my larvitar with me on hikes in one of our local parks that has a history of volcanic activity. It's got plenty of rocks for him to munch on, and he always eats, but lately I've noticed that little scoundrel has taken to eating the landscaping rocks I've been buying for a big gardening project. He always has access to the outdoors and will therefore have access to the garden, so do you have any tips on how to break this new habit? I only hope the landscaping rocks won't be harmful to him.

it's probably the texture. a lot of pokemon enjoy eating things that are really crunchy because it gives them mental stimulus to have to chew their way through them. crunchy foods can also help with dental health!

that being said, larvitar shouldn't be allowed to eat more than 10% rock in their diet. doing so can cause gut slowdown and impaction, since rock lacks the moisture that the soil they naturally eat contains. you'll need to block off the rocks so that he can't access them or replace them with something else if you want him to continue to have free access to your garden. training him not to eat the rocks while you're not around is a matter of teaching a good "drop it" command and recalling him when he tries to eat them, but unless you can keep an eye on him while he's out there, i wouldn't keep the rocks somewhere he can get to. that would be like leaving out a giant sawsbuck bone and expecting a mabosstiff not to eat it when you're not around.

[beyondthisdarkhouse]

So is there, like, a limit to what *kind* of stitches you can take out with a seam ripper? When I try to mend something, usually one of two things happens--either I try to yank a big snarl through the fabric, tear it, and have a new place to fix, which I usually do by just sewing the edges of the hole *to* the snarl since it's already there; OR if I'm being especially painstaking I will manage to catch the huge snarls *before* pulling them through, and then I pass the next few stitches through the snarl to hold it together and down and keep all the loops from unraveling. In either case, while I can usually manage to keep the outside of the garment looking reasonably clean the inside doesn't so much have seams as it has keloids--basically a big running knot of stitches looped back on each other, that I just keep doubling back on and stabbing until the needle won't go through it anymore because that's the only way I know to secure it.

Am I just stuck with them? Or if I ever learned to sew properly, would I be able to unpick those mends and redo them? (Or, more likely, get an actual seamstress to redo them?)

(If it matters--most of the garments I've tried to mend by actually sewing are jersey knit; woven fabrics I usually just use those iron-on patches on the inside.)

Oh boy JERSEY. It's a lovely spoilt brat devil of a fabric. I love it so but it's very prone to problems. I myself have absolutely done the overlapping row-on-row of raddled fabric bunched into a seam. I'm going to go backwards, starting with the assumption that holes will happen, before talking about unpicking methods that might prevent the formation of holes to begin with.

Because I mean, sometimes it is all such a pain in the ass that I just sew a new seam further into the fabric and cut the old seam off with scissors, if that won't mess up the thing I'm repairing. Alas, it often will mess it up, and then getting fancy is required.

The simplest answer is to get a stretchy fusible interfacing that will work like an iron-on patch. Your search terms here are "knit fusible interfacing" and "weft fusible interfacing"; you can buy it off the bolt at fabric stores. I use it when my t-shirts get random little holes in the fabric and I want to prevent them from getting any larger--I just cut a little circle of interfacing and iron it onto the back of the fabric. You could cut pieces big enough to cover your keloid areas, iron them down, and then sew through the interfacing with more confidence.

It is possible to darn knit garments, using thread to catch the loops that have been dropped and create a bridge of new stitches that hold it all together. People absolutely do darn T-shirts and fine fabrics like jersey; I personally only do it for knitted items that are extremely precious to me and have large yarn and a big gauge, because I find it a pain in the ass. There's traditional darning where you catch the loops at the perimeter of the hole, then create a woven web of threads over the gap, and Swiss darning, where you duplicate the knitted structure.

A lot of the problems with knit fabric originate with the needles used to sew them. Ordinary sharp needles have the unfortunate habit of piercing and breaking the threads of the fabric they're sewing, and those broken threads can begin to unravel and create holes. If the thing you're unpicking was originally sewn with sharp needles, you might be SOL and have to accept the holes as inevitable. Avoiding this problem requires ball point needles, whose tips have been carefully blunted so they merely push threads aside as they move through fabric. This is way more likely to be a problem with sewing machines, since they punch down with more force than handsewists generally use to push the needle through the fabric, but, you might benefit by doing your hand-mending with ballpoints.

So, with unpicking, one major secret is serger or overlock stitches. These are made by machines that use three or four threads all at once to completely encase the seam in thread. They're used a lot in modern sewing because they're quick, easy, and make garments machine-washable. Hoowever, if you want to unpick the seam, you might find yourself thinking, "Where do I start?"

There is a secret to it. Here's a tutorial on the process, and here's another. Once you know which threads to focus on, the whole process gets much easier.

Which finally brings us around to unpicking seams, full stop.

The biggest problem with unpicking seams in knit fabrics is the extreme likelihood that you will not just catch the thread of the seam, but the thread of the fabric itself. In that case, your best bet is actually to turn the item out to its "good" or "right" side, pull the seam gently apart until the stitches are visible, and carefully pick them out from there. Here's a tutorial. This works with seams made by serger, sewing machine, or by hand. You just have to be wary of cutting the fabric itself when you're coming in to cut the stitch.

Whew! I don't know about you, but now I don't feel like sewing again for a week. (Lies. I will sew again after lunch.) This is as much as I think is useful. If you have more specific questions, I think I'd need to see photographs of the thing to give any more helpful answers.

[baura-bear]

can u pls talk some more about ryan kopel’s davey i am Begging (thank u for all the posts about uksies it is keeping me sane)

um. i wrote a lot.

"For me I think he's just gotten weirder and weirder as time goes on um, just, yeah, all his quirks and everything have started to come out much more than they were in December. Hopefully he will just continue to get even stranger" -Ryan Kopel about how Davey has changed as time goes on (from Wednesday's Q&A)

Thought that quote was fitting to start off with. Like I said, I saw the show in March so I definitely got a "weirder" version of Davey than I might have if I'd gone in December. I've listened to audio boots from pre-March and I can tell just from his line delivery how much his character has changed and it's incredible. (I would like to say I am interpreting "weird" as autistic because I say so). He is constantly stimming and his acting is so physical he's always bouncing around, limbs flailing about in such a cartoony way it's amazing. Rocks back and forth on his feet a lot, hugs papers, fiddles with strap of paper bag, taps thumbs together and wipes hands on front of his pants regularly. He also has a habit of clasping his hands together in front or behind him and it makes him look really sweet.

Even his growth from act 1 to act 2 is so fun to watch. When he first meets the newsies they ALL seem skeptical of him, Crutchie gives him BOMBASTIC side eye and Race is very snarky with him. You can see him get more comfortable with them, but there's still a bit of that hesitance which is so interesting to watch. He also gets much more comfortable around Jack which comes across in Watch What Happens (Reprise) and Jack's betrayal scene.

He also is very good at making Davey gay in a 1800s closeted young queer boy sort of way. Javey is strong in this production (if you hadn't figured that out from the numerous backstage pictures). Lot's of the lines he delivers towards Jack are very much Boy-Who-Is-In-Love-But-Very-Bad-At-Hiding-It. He gets SUPER embarrassed about Les looking at the bowery beauties and when he sees Jack's backdrop he very eagerly jumps forward and says "Thats!!- I mean. Uh. that's... really good."

Les and Davey's sibling bond is also so sweet, it's just as strong with every Les (I saw 3/4 of the original Les's). He's always got a hand on his shoulder or his arms wrapped around Les from the back. 99% of the show is Davey looking at Les with absolute astonishment at what he's doing "Buy a pape from a poor orphan boy?" "Oh- no he's not an orphan!" *cue Jack pulling Davey away*

Speaking of which. When Davey's trying to hawk his paper it's to the audience and the last thing he says before Jack cuts in is "Paper? anyone? Not for you"

There are so many good moments in act 2 good lord. I love Watch What Happens (reprise) because Ryan's version isn't so much that David is trying to convince Jack of anything, but rather that Davey already knows he's won the argument and he's being so cocky about it. ALSO THE WAY HE DELIVERS "we are INEVITABLE" is amazing.

I have so many thoughts about the stike rally. First of all when Davey goes up while everyone's chanting for Jack his reaction to the crowd is very much "Oh my god there are so many people here what do I do" rather than Ben Fankhauser's take of a more confident Davey. Multiple times Davey goes over to Medda like a proud little kid showing their mom what they did. When Jack enters (and starts suggesting they disband the union) Davey asks Medda if she knows what's going on and she looks so confused and heart broken by Jack's actions she just shakes her head at Davey. While everyone is yelling at Jack Davey tries multiple to get him to stop by stepping forward and touching his arm or shoulder and even saying "Jack, stop, please Jack stop?" and he actually tries so hard to be understanding. Of course all hell breaks loose and Jack ends up pushing Les to the ground which is what finally breaks Davey he says "What are you doing Jack?" and gestures to Les on the ground before helping him up and running off stage.

Before they print the Newsie Banner Katherine hands her notebook to Davey and he reads it over and writes something in her notebook before handing it back so they can print it.

"People like Joe don't talk to nobodies like us" Davey and Jack both smile sweetly and lean their heads together

I hope this was sufficient :)))))) it was very fun to write. If you made it this far I have one more message: go Listen to Ryan Kopel on Spotify

[kmackatie]

any or all of 4, 16, 44, 66, 80, 99 of the ask game for fanfic writers :)

hello! thank you for the asks

(ask me a fanfic writer ask)

due to length, this is under a cut!

4. what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

I have answered this one here!

16. where is your favorite place to write?

On the end of my couch, sitting cross-legged with my laptop writing desk, with something on the tv. Generally, a tv show that I don't have to pay a lot of attention to, but having something playing in the background is the best for my concentration (it's that un-medicated ADHD mood, yolo!). My housemate is often sitting on the opposite end, and I've written...pretty much every nsfw fic while there. It works for me!

44. any writing advice you want to share?

Learn the rules, experiment with breaking them all, then find the ones you need to stick to. In general, experiment, especially in writing fic! It's the perfect place for it, it's low expectation, your readers already buy in, and you can do a lot with breaking the form. Also, read widely and find authors that you like and interrogate their work -- read it closely, find phrases and work out why they hit and work, don't be afraid of imitating and seeing how it fits with your style. Most authors will also love talking about their process -- ask them about it! Find a Discord server or a space where you can chat with other writers. It does wonders for getting the words down!

66. when have you felt the most confident in your writing? 

I have answered this one here!

80. do you try to put themes, motifs, messages, morals, etc in your writing? if so, how do you go about it?

I do often have themes and messages in my fics, though I hope I have done them well enough that it is subtle and becomes part of the fic rather than heavy-handed. the breath before the phrase was about joy, resting, and finding ways to be comfortable with a path you didn't expect to take. pieces of (you) me was about home and what that means when you lose it, and how you have to build the one you want. sleep, with benefits is a about letting yourself want things and believing you can have them. It's more about a mood for me, then a heavy message I shove in there.

99. was being a writer a dream of yours when you were little? or did it spring up when your older? or is it just a hobby? 

It was something I wanted when I was small, I grew up reading every free minute that I get, but through later years of school, I lacked a lot of confidence in pursuing anything I wanted. I had convinced myself 'I couldn't write stories'. It wasn't until a fandom a few years back (and some incredibly encouraging authors!) that I tried, and found I could actually do this, in my own way. I then fell into CR during 2020, and latched on to this incredible way of telling stories, the richness of the world, and the depth, and I wanted to dive into that, to find *what if* and *what else*, and again, I lucked into some encouragement from folk in the fandom and the rest is history. I have written more in the last three years than I have in the rest of my life, and it's definitely just a hobby for me, but it's one I love and I feel I can see vast improvements on now that it's become a consistent habit.

[kopivie]

here i am, steadily becoming more and more vulnerable with the very same person i tried to convince myself to hate.

at some point, i blamed violet for my eating disorder. we were pretty stupid kids -- the two of us improperly diagnosed (or completely undiagnosed altogether) and just interacting with each other and the world the only way we knew how. i distinctly recall him commenting more than once on the way i would eat certain things.

i suppose they were compulsive habits that i hadn't realized i was doing. i would do things like nibble at chips or brush the stray crumbs off of chicken fingers to eat last. those are the only things i can remember... but then he'd also comment on the fact that i was soft. not fat, just... soft. i wasn't a fat kid by any means, but... little things like that... they stick.

i became aware – too aware. i started eating while he wasn't looking; turning down his offer to buy me my favorite snacks despite both of us knowing i didn't eat lunch that day; i'd even go so far as to completely stop eating when i met his eyes at lunch.

(he always messages me while i'm posting about him, jesus--)

that behavior snowballed into something so wildly out of control. my rapidly fluctuating weight and fear of being perceived kind of stems from him and his innocuous comments. because i remember asking him later in life why he said things like that. why would you comment on such little things?

"because i was figuring you out."

that's all it was. that's all it ever was. and whenever we reminisce as adults, i find that he committed those little habits of mine to his long-term memory. harmless efforts to learn a loved one being warped into something so malicious that it negatively affected my health for years afterwards.

it's kinda scary what an insecure mind can do to you.

i'm saying all this to say that i'm having trouble eating right now. after all that work i put in to eat healthy, now i'm just... not eating at all. i need some encouragement; a little push in the right direction. and who better to ask for that push than my violet?

like i said, he replied to my message midway through typing this. i asked him to just.. tell me to eat. please. anything that'll give me the motivation to eat. and he did. the person i wrongfully blamed for my own poor mental state is helping me bandage my own wounds.

so... i'm eating. i'll probably be here all night until i decide that i've sufficiently eaten enough., but i'm eating. my hero.

(told him i appreciate him. that's my stand-in for the big L word for now. i'll wait until my break to say it – i gotta see how distance affected our relationship, if at all.)

[miss-tina-susanne]

Athenais once said...

"Yes. On top of being quite hot, I am also very exasperating."

"My brain is a bag of cats, and they are all scratchy, and tell me horrid things."

"Every morning, when I overthink, I run back home to Gahlen and set things on fire. It's become a habit. I sit in the study and watch fires spread all around me, and sometimes I shove my hand in there just so it quiets the madness in my mind. Except today. Today I decided to come back here instead, and not set your house on fire, because I have better manners than that."

"I'll be sure to add 'High Sentinel Hibernation' into my calendar, then. Bring you a fish every day."

"And the cats in my head DO talk. Your cats don't talk, maybe, and you do not have cats."

"I'm a little too deeply entrenched in feels to want to leave, and that irks me, because I know you don't feel the same. So I'm annoyed at myself for being this deeply entrenched, because, as I said: This should be fun, sexy, and easy. I should be sucking your dick. In front of a mirror."

"I'm not going anywhere. I just need to know that I'm staying for a reason."

"You know, I've been called 'too much' by many men in my life. And maybe I do want a lot. But I also want you. I want to be with you."

"He wouldn't have recognized me after that last death. Now he probably won't recognize his own mother."

"You know, the whole point about making an 'I would buy you a drink' joke in an empty tavern is so you don't actually have to do it."

"It's literally so simple. Repeat after me: When Celyn does pushups, he does not push himself up - he pushes the world down."

"I'd hand you back the hoe, but I have my reservations, being jealous."

"I tried to smile and wink, and then I felt myself throw up a little."

"He means absolutely the most charming, enchanting creature he has ever met."

"It's alright. Use your words."

"I have suddenly decided to take up the wimple and evoke eternal maidenhood."

"I'm going to fucking choke you to death."

"How dare you doubt my bosoms. They are wonderful in every life, of this I am certain."

"You're clearly a better woman than I ever will be. I'll hang up my hat."

"I promise not to break your bones. Or at least the one important one."

"Sure. You can stab her from the front and I will stab her from the back."

"Have you ever heard that tale of the alchemist king whose touch turned everything to gold? I wonder how he slapped the meat."

"Thanks. I gave myself an involuntary nose-twitch just for you."

"You didn't have to die to get me out of your head, idiot."

"I don't care. Let them writhe in agony. All of them."

"In short, he did a Chuen thing."

"Me? Jealous? Of undead dwarf babies?"

"I hate you. And I want to kiss you. And I want to murder you."

"You know how the sunlight hits the rockface of a cliff on hot days? And it must be so, so terrible to be that rock, burning with no real way to cool down. And then the ocean slaps you in the face with cold water, and it hurts, but it also hurts so good?"

"Studied a lot of centaur butts, have we?"

"My mind takes me here one moment, and then somewhere else, the other. I'm often terrible at focusing on things, but when you're around, there's an odd clarity I don't understand. Maybe you're slowly absorbing my crazy, in which case, you're already helping."

"For all intents and purposes, my hot bitch persona is really only useful for keeping people away."

"Athenais Alliette: Magnussing your powligmus since 1524."

"Special, like don't eat the glue special?"

"It's so easy to make penile jokes. And I am clearly five years old with a crass sense of humour."

"Gods, your hands are full. Are you carrying the burden of responsibility with you?"

"We crashed together like two forlorn stars, and now we cannot be pried apart for fear of destroying both. What a life."

"Darling, I know you're a potent man, but even a potent man cannot stop a fire with the strength of his urine."

"Catography is the art of making maps to every single cat you love."

[piecesofmicorazon]

today

a few things happened today.

this morning i woke up at 11am, even though i've been trying to get to a place where i wake up at 9am everyday... that's still a goal for me.

then i took some meetings, did my skincare, and ate some greek yogurt with honey and expired granola.

then i did some stretching. i talked to bj a little bit and decided that i wanted some new candles. i asked her if she wanted to come.

today i hung out with bj. we went to buy candles, go to sephora, and just hang out. it was so fun. everything is so fun with her. we spent time smelling candles and messing with each other. something i notice is that people are always smiling at us, like they're happy to see us together. everything is so fun with bj, even walking around stores and touching blankets.

then we went to sephora so i could buy some new stuff for my acne. that's another thing.. i started tretinoin because i had so many clogged pores. did i think it would becomes like this? hell no. everyday i wake up and i wish i hadn't started it. but this tret journey is teaching me patience, it's teaching me good habits like skincare 2x a day, how to wait for things, and seeing small progress day by day. 4-6 months, man! that is a really long time. but i am trusting the process, and for once, sticking with it.

today i saw this reddit thread that made me cry. i felt extraordinarily seen. https://www.reddit.com/r/tretinoin/comments/1874wm5/comment/kbcxe8c/?context=3

this skincare journey reminds me of the one in middle school. i had forehead acne like no other, and i never thought it would end. i tried every mask, diaper cream, face washes galore. and one day it just all went away. i can't wait for that day to come.

while we were in sephora and i was trying to find concealers, bj brought some perfume samples over to me. she was going to buy me one in the summer and i remember telling her not to because i already had so many. but smelling it today, it smelled amazing. bj always knows what smells i would like, she knows everything about me.

everything is better with bj.

anyways, i got 2 foundation samples and i swear i was going to buy the concealer, but i stole it. sigh.. sometimes it's really hard to break habits. could i not afford $15? was it really worth? what would bj think of me..

i really don't steal anymore. even though i really want to sometimes. but just like any journey, one day it'll come. where the thought doesn't even cross my mind. i can't wait for that day to come.

another thing that happened today is that i got a therapist! fingers crossed for this one.. seriously. she's asian, has expertise in lgbtq, educated, and it all sounds good on paper! she didn't even have openings but she does after one week of me inquiring? if that's not jesus... who is it? thank you jesus.

i know people say therapy is life changing. and i really hope it can be for me to. i realize i have so many things i have not processed. my heart breaks even thinking about it, but only in great sorrow, do we learn what joy means.

i can't wait to learn what joy means again.

[parm4carm]

Love you, Jade ❤️ And though I know it's not the most important thing right now, speaking out and often is more important, I do hope you are okay ❤️

hiii oh my god has it forreal been weeks since you sent me this?? i swear i just saved this to my drafts three days ago .. the passage of time truly fries my brain

first, this is so sweet of you to send to me and i'm so grateful that people still check in on me when i'm quiet online <3 i know i am a veryyyyy unreliable presence here but i really do appreciate all the love and i'm sending it right back to you <3

you've kind of given me the perfect jumping off point to just throw a lot of updates and ramblings in one spot bc truthfully i do not feel right posting normal posts and taking up space with things that are trivial in the grand scheme of things. i genuinely don't have the brain capacity for much else these days besides keeping up with palestine/congo/sudan etc related updates + the occasional few hours where i can watch a movie or a show without feeling guilty

(general life update dump below so beware bc i talk a lot)

brief mental state check in but i am not doing well! not just with the weight of the world but with everything else in my life lmao. pretty much everyone who knows me knows that the holidays/the winter are the roughest months for me so i'm usually radio silent :/ this year has been... so rough and i don't know why every year feels worse than the last but it really truly does! i'm particularly lonelier this year and it's honestly my fault. idk how to reach out to people when i'm so isolated tbh i feel like a burden at all times especially now that most of the people i used to talk to daily online and irl are doing way better than me and i'm just. always stuck here in this really shitty space i can't seem to get out of no matter how hard i try

i don't talk about my problems a lot online but like. after losing my childhood pet and then getting accepted to two different programs in one year (grad school and community college) and having to drop out of both AND dealing with a decline in my mother's health AND my grandmother's cancer scare AND my own financial issues AND unemployment i'm just exhausted. because of all of this i truly don't know how to function like a normal person or make friends or keep friends anymore i'm just miserable tbh

okay i know this is a hard pivot, but i thought i could just compile things that have brought me a little bit of happiness that i haven't talked about here! it's all on me to feel like this, but i have intense guilt about posting anything not related to current events, so this is my way around that! so.. enjoy i guess <3

personal stuff (you can send me asks to explain more if you want)

i beat my new years' resolution of watching 365 things this year – i'm up to 500 logs!

a lot of new tv (28 total, entire shows, rewatches, new seasons, miniseries, and documentaries included)

fixated on kpop this year and listened to 30 groups whole discography! i actually counted and it was exactly 30 lmao ask me ab my fav groups and biases if you dare

started drinking tea every day :)

redecorating my apartment and it's so much cozier now

i've become more of a snoopy/peanuts fanatic :)

to build on the new years resolution, i've added quite a few horror franchises under my belt :) my horror tag on letterboxd is roughly 250 now!

i think i'm finally breaking my lifelong nail biting habit??? fingers crossed!

buying more things secondhand and feeling way better about it! mostly clothes and dvds but me and my partner are huge fans of knick knacks

have tried a lot of new food this year :) and am cooking new recipes a lot more too!

went to the beach for vacation for the first time in ten years <3 went to this cool little record store and got a band recommendation from the owner that's now one of my underground favs!

celebrated ten years with my partner this year and although it's been such a rough year for the both of us and we're not nearly where we ever thought we'd be, we're more solid now than we've ever been!!! i really would not have made it through this year without them

honestly this year has been a blur 90% of the time so there's obviously been more little things that make me happy but! it's been a big year for consuming media bc i don't have much energy for creating anymore unfortunately