#expecting me to do 8 hours when i feel like shit is a lot

[evanescencelovrr]

Part 8 college!simon x reader. Reader works her first shift at the bar and meets team 141 🙊 feel free to like comment & reblog!

Masterlist here ✉️

First shift. You muttered to yourself, buckling your black belt in your jeans. All black outfit, perfect for waitressing. Your hair was tucked in a bun to keep it neat, some strands fallen. Closing shut your mirror, you eyed your dorm room, taking off the lights before leaving with your bag.

“I wonder what that crew is like…apparently they must mean a lot to him.” You said, under your breath as you walked to the main street. The bar was located behind Campus apparently and took about 15 minutes to reach. It wasn’t horrible—you saw shitty motel buildings and broken neon lights along the way.

Cars passed by every now and then. Your mind drifted back to Simon. Maybe that was where he got those eyebags from—working all these night shifts.

The bell rings as you enter and of course, you hear an electric guitar strumming over the speakers. Glasses clink and the displays are showing a football match. You nervously approach the counter and soon a man comes in—mohawk, beard and sharp eyes. Tanned. Tall, muscular and a rag thrown over his shoulder.

What you didn’t expect what his strong scottish accent. “Aye, y’er ere’ fa’ the job, lass?”

“Yes—“ You furrowed your brows, slowly comprehending it to which he barked out a laugh. You weren’t sure you heard him right and the words just spilled out your mouth.

His shiny teeth glittered in the lights. “C’mon, love, no reason t’ be scared. Names Johnny.”

“Of course sir—“

“Johnny.” He said firmly, eyes cutting a glance at you as he began cleaning the glasses with his rag.

You nodded and bit your lip—first mistake. You then made your way behind the counter, boots thudding against the ground. You always wore your lil platform combat boots—added a nice touch.

“Lieutenants got a hold on’ ya?” Johnny said suddenly, eyeing you. Confused, you turn to look at him and you shake your heard, lips tugging down a bit.

“I wouldn’t—“

“Damned man. Cannae help it, you’re a pretty one.” Johnny smiled, rolling his eyes and grinning.

You stare mildly shocked at his carefree attitude, not knowing what exactly to say—or how Simon would respond to this.

After a pause, you then say, “Show me around, yeah?”

“Look at er’ givin’ me orders.” Johnny teased and then got to work, dropping his causal persona. He led you gently to the kitchen, showing you where to restock the fruits. Oranges went in one crate.

Apples in another.

Lemons to the side.

You nodded.

He then showed you how to clean the damn ice maker, which took a good portion of training. He even had you do it, watching you. A half hour at least passed.

“Y’er gettin’ it.” Johnny said, pleased. He patted your back hefty, and you nearly groaned at each pat. He was heavy handed.

You scoff a bit and smile, slowly getting comfortable. After that, was washing and soaking the glasses in lukewarm water to get stains out and debris. And then drying them. And then placing them on the hanging racks by the bar counter for use.

Just then, the door rung and Simon walked in, ready for his shift. When he rounded the counter and saw you, back facing him and drying a glass, he froze momentarily. He then slid his hands into the dark wash of his jeans, black button up wrinkling.

“See ya’ made it in one piece.” A gruff voice said from behind you. You recognized it.

You turned around and grinned, brow raising slightly at his appearance. He sure cleaned up nicely, although his stubble remained rough, hair uncombed. It looked like he ran his fingers through it multiple times.

“Johnny over there s’been keeping me alive. Does he always have a knack for teasin’?”

“Shit, shoulda mentioned that to ya. Don’ let em’ talk his way in y’er panties.” Simon said gruffly, although eyes flashing in amusement. His heavy lidded eyes raised and you found yourself staring a bit longer than necessary, and then turned around. Carefully rearranging the glasses so they stood upside down—the wet ones draining.

“Would be funny all he found were a pair of balls. Steel ones.”

With that, Simon let out a small laugh. A choked out chuckle, shoulders jerking up and grin stretching wide. The curve of his nose wrinkled, eyes flashing down to undo his cuffs to raise his sleeves over his hair forearms.

“Steel ones you said? Quite the image.” And with that, leaving you dazed and flustered, he went off to the kitchen.

——

As Simon approached the kitchen to begin slicing the oranges, and lemons, Johnny appeared.

“Ya’ got a lass under ya now?”

“Shut it, before I stuff Price’s unwashed sock in y’er mouth.” Simon is at it, gruff and glaring. Brows pinched together, big hands cradling the lemon. He tosses it up, then catches it, giving a sharp glance to Johnny who grins mischievously.

“I ain’t signin’ myself up fa’ tha’.” Johnny winced playfully and moved back, to which Simon found it pleasing. Even at work, he was still regarded as Lieutenant—which should still be. Regardless of being at base or not. His position would remain.

He then glanced at you, who leaned against the counter and spoke to a customer. Your grin, although some strands fell delicately, most was tucked away neatly. You shook the drink, mixing and poured it over.

You seemed to be adjusting pretty well.

‘’Aye, lass, come work the back, yea?’’ Johnny called out, from the kitchen. You moved swiftly on your feet, after given the man his drink to which he dropped tips on the counter.

‘’Ya forgot—‘’ Simon started when you breezed past him, sighing through his nose. He walked up, cleaning his scarred hands with the rag, and then slid the tips over.

‘’For that girl.’’ said the man, drinking his mojito and eyeing Simon. He didn’t like this fella. Something itched at him. Maybe it was the sly twinkle in the mans eye, the slight lift of his lip. Bushy eyebrows peeked out.

“Didn’t need ta’ explain yourself.” Simon muttered, stuffing the tips in his pockets, although in his left, making sure to keep his tips separate from yours. Seems you still had some learning to do.

The man returned to his drink, although occasionally eyeing Simons back who now worked the front of the bar. He used the calculator to punch in numbers. Just then, a crowd of people came in—as usual. Night settled now and chatter arose in the bar.

Barstools shook as people sat, slamming hands and cheering. Simon approached and leaned his hands on the edge, eyeing them. “What ave’ we got?”

“Whiskey, neat.”

“Same here.”

“Gimme a scotch, good man.”

Behind, you worked cutting the oranges skin off. Stealthy hands worked and even Johnny let out a whistle. “Things ya’ canna do with those hands.”

You found your breath catching and you shifted on your boots, leaned over the table. You pinched your brows. “You woke up cheery today.”

Johnny laughed and sautéed the vegetables, steam rising. A crackle sound rung in the air, then hissing as he mixed in steak. About halfway, he flipped it expertly. “Jus’ focus on makin’ them hands work, yea?”

“You got it, Johnny.” You quirked, releasing some of your rigidity. He grinned, eyeing you for a second appreciating your tenacity. Slowly, you were getting used to this work environment. It appeared to be smooth, occasionally filled with teasing and banter. Maybe this wasn’t so bad—you thought.

Simon didn’t like as soon as you arrived—new recruit—you’d gotten stares. What he didn’t like were the usual assholes that crept up here every night. He figured he should give you a heads up, although maybe you knew. He wasn’t sure.

And he also wouldn’t lie, you were a pretty thing. He stilled himself once he realized his train of thought, then went back to shaking the drink harder. Almost as if threatening the damn drink. Brows pinched in semi focus— and a hint of irritation at himself. He then removed the shaker and poured smoothly the drink into the glass, pushing it towards the rugged man.

Just then, he spotted Price who arrived. He took his jacket off, resting it on the hook in the small closet next to yours. The man didn’t take long to realize what had changed. ‘’We got a new one?’’

“Aye, shes in the back.” Simon responded, voice lowered.

“She?”

“Got a problem?”

“Nah, just thought you’d bring in a little lad, is all.” Price grinned widely, small eyes crinkling. His mustache brushed his lips.

Price earned a look from Simon. His usual stoic, and cold demeanor not wavering. As Simon leaned against the soda machine, he then perked up when a woman approached the bar, lipstick smudged and hair a wavy mess. Price took this to his advantage and moved to the back.

“Gimme—“

“Gimme a…Malibu mixed with pineapple and cranberry.” She mumbled, grasping the counter and smiling at Simon.

Price then saw you, peeling away at the oranges skillfully. Beside you were a whole basket—unpeeled. And another—ready to go. Price grabbed his apron and tied it round’ his waist, chin tilted down, eyes not leaving you. “Recruit, see ya’ made it to the team.”

You jumped as you were stuck in focus and the man smiled, one corner lifting up. He looked like a millennial dad, you thought. Shifting on your boots, you watched as deft fingers made a skill-full knot behind his back and then he moved to the table beside you.

He grasped at the large knife, as it shined in the overhead light.

“Names y/n.” You said, Johnny taking a long glance over at the scene as Price began slicing smoothly at the chicken.

“You up for waiting tables?” Price said gruffly.

“You got it, sir.”

And at that, Price gave you a smug smile, eyes flashing over you. Johnny then prepared a plate, handing it to you. His tall form towered over you for a moment before going back to prepare another round.

“That ones’ fa’ table five, love.” Johnny said and your eyes peeked up at the nickname. Honestly it seemed casual for him—maybe there was no meaning behind it.

Nodding, you grasped the plate and then caught eyes with Price. He was busy slicing the flesh clean.

Wasn’t so bad for my first shift, you thought.

[meanderfall]

I feel like I'm in low-power mode

[jnnul]

I JUST READ THE DATING RINA DRABBLE AND DIED HEADASS……………… do u have any thoughts for dating ning? :3

word count: 933 words a/n: LMAOOOO that's so real anonnie that's me with ningrina on any given day tbh genres: fluff and nsfw content

ningning is THE girlfriend tbh

very feminine, very princess vibes

but i feel like ningning is the epitome of a 50/50 girlie

she will definitely expect princess treatment but she will also def be giving princess treatment

it doesn't matter age, gender, race, nationality

you are her princess™️ just like she is your princess™️

for example, she might be the one to ask you out on a date

but once you hit it off, she'll expect you to be the one to make it official

i honestly feel like ningning would ask you out within like a couple hours of meeting you

she gets your number, thinks you're cute, and then asks you out on a date

and on that first date, she puts her expectations for a relationship out in the open and highkey she's just so confident in what she wants that you're like ???

i'm??? in love with her???

(she knows you are)

once you ask her to be your girlfriend, she absolutely dotes on you

there's a new side of her that you've never seen before

she's like a sweet best friend that also drops 2 grand on w/o batting an eye bc she saw you eyeing a pretty watch and what her baby looks at, her baby gets

and she expects that you love her like that too!!

not monetarily, but definitely at least in emotional aspects

affirm her feelings, express how much you love her, initiating dates, buying her flowers randomly to surprise her

but outside of that, she wants you to be her best friend and vice versa

like she genuinely wants to have inside jokes w you, do stupid things w you, and lowk wants to be your absolute best friend

def isn't very controlling and she herself has a lot of friends

but she def prioritizes you the most out of everyone

and kinda wants you to do the same (or at least have her in the top 3)

is actually the best person to rant to bc she'll just listen to you like this 😍 while you're swearing like a sailor

will def join in and bash whoever's making her bb feel bad

but thinks you're so incredibly lovable regardless

lowk loves showing you off in public?

like she doesn't care when you're wearing revealing clothing or when ppl are checking you out, in front of her, mind you

bc she knows that you're hot and she appreciates you knowing that too

what she draws the line at tho is literally anyone threatening her spot in closeness to you

lowk will get toxic abt it too

like if she feels like you met someone who's able to make you laugh like she does, she immediately brings it up to you

and asks you to distance yourself from them

unless she's 100% sure that it's platonic from their side

bc she trusts her baby

but not the rest of the world

hand in hand w the whole showing you off/best friend thing

she loves going clubbing w you!!

the best thing abt dating ningning is that she makes you embrace life to the fullest

genuinely 0 shits given to the world

you're violently drunk after 12 shots at the club? she's holding your hair/clothes back as you hurl your guts out and she's still having the time of her life

will take so many pics of you two together

like actually she has to upgrade her icloud storage every 3 months

bc she doesn't want to delete a single picture of you

or the two of you tgt

probably singlehandedly supporting apple atp

so incredibly in love w you <333

[NSFW CONTENT BELOW]

ik so many ppl hc her as a pillow princess

and she def has her moments!! where she just wants to be spoiled rotten

but she love love LOVES putting in the work when y'all are getting nasty

highkey that's one of the only things she'll rlly go 75/25 on

she has an y/n fixation so you can expect her to go down on you (wtv that looks like for you!!) 25/8

you're watching tv? her hands are in your pants

you're washing the dishes? she's backhugging you and her hands are in your pants

you're breathing? her hands are down your pants

NINGNING JUST WANTS TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD ALL THE DAMN TIME

i don't rlly think she's into power play

but she's def prone to 'taking the lead' in bed

i also think that once you guys get more comfortable w each other, she lets out her inner freak

like i genuinely think that she'd leave you tied to the bed w a vibrator at your core and just watch you

she thinks you look gorgeous when you cum

and therefore, overstimulates you whenever she can

not a fan of edging bc she hates seeing you cry

but she will use it against you if she ever feels like you're not loving her as hard as she wants to be!!

also lots of romantic, heated sex

where she pushes you up against a wall and kisses the shit out of you

and then takes you to the bedroom where she has a bunch of fairy lights and candles lit

she's v v spontaneous tho so she can flip the vibe however you want!! will never do the same thing twice!!

aftercare has to be 50/50 tho!! she runs you a bath and massages all of the sore spots and you make her cheese toasties <333

overall, ningning who is your needy/sexy/silly best friend and girlfriend all in one!!

[markster666]

I'm not sure if I've made a request with you but if I have please feel free to ignore! I just can't stop thinking about reader just going up to Vox and asking if they can play videogames and use his head as the monitor. idk I just wanna fuck with Vox he's hilarious

My Life is Like a Video Game (Literally) - Vox x Reader (SFW)

Pairing: Vox x Genderless!Reader

Tags: Vox, SFW, Comedy, Not a lot of plot, Vox is pissed off, Vox x You, Cursing

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: 575

A/N: I saw this request come into my inbox a bit ago and I died of laughter. I hope this lives up to your expectations. Unedited, so apologies for any spelling mistakes. Enjoy. LMFAO

You cursed in disgust as the lights went and fucked themselves. You knew Vox had a temperament and when it got BAD, the power shut off everywhere. You were in the middle of beating a really hard boss on Dark Souls, one you spent DAYS UPON DAYS trying to complete, only for his fuck-head lookin' ass to ruin your almost perfect run of it.

You threw down the controller and groaned. You decided to get up and mindlessly walk around the room, actually putting in the time to throw your dirty clothes in the pantry and make your bed.

You were hoping Velvette or Valentino would've calm him down by now, but the complete darkness and lack of gaming audio states otherwise.

You hastily put on your comfort jacket and shoved open your door and slammed it behind you, murmuring obscenities as your feet scuttled down the hallway. Your arms were crossed from how cold it was (the heater electricity was shut off too).

You knocked on Vox's door, stabbing back a foot or two in anticipation of the door opening.

After a few moments, you shouted "VOX!"

Still no answer.

You raised your voice even more, "VOX! OPEN UP THIS FUCKING DOOR OR SO SATAN HELP ME-"

The door opened, slamming against the wall and threatening to break.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT Y/N?!!"

His eyes were glowing red, a snarl coating his face. His hand was still on the doorknob, ready to slam the door in your face at a moments notice.

You rolled your eyes, "I was in the middle of a Dark Souls boss fight and you decided that THAT was the perfect time to completely cut all power."

He groaned in frustration.

"I'm SORRY, okay? I don't know what else to tell ya."

He started closing the door but you pushed past him and into his computer room.

"There's only ONE working TV in all of Pentagram City now..."

He frog blinked at you, closing the door with a look of confusion on his face.

"Um... What are you trying to say?"

You turned to face him, arms on your hips and looking him up and down.

"May I PLEASE use your head-screen thingy to... beat the Dark Souls boss?"

He looked DUMBFOUNDED. Like there's absolutely no fucking way you just asked him that.

"That is probably the dumbest fucking request I have ever gotten from you. No, absolutely not. Power will be back on soon."

He pushed past you, sitting in his chair and rubbing his eyes in exhaustion and stress.

You smirked and went up behind him, massaging his shoulders lightly, leaning in close to his ear.

"I'll go and spy on the Radio Demon for ya."

He perked up at this thought, swiveling his chair around to face you.

"Oh? Ya don't say?" He folded his hands on his lap. "Fine, then, but ONLY 10 minutes."

You squeaked in giddy, sitting down and crossing your legs on the floor, booting up your controller and he switched his monitor to Dark Souls, trying to stay as still for you as he could.

It ended up taking 8 hours because you had beaten the boss but wanted to keep playing so you just didn't tell him you beat the boss.

And you left him even more angry than he already was. :)

Oh and you also didn't spy on Alastor you truly couldn't give less of a shit.

[starberry-cupcake]

I could have just gone ahead and finished the book, but I adult life is interrupting so I stopped mid-fight and that's what you're getting, since I think it'll be a more sensible length this way.

previously, in gideon the ninth

this happened (also, this is the tag for all of the stuff)

currently, somewhere before ending the penultimate chapter, I think:

WELL, WELL, WELL

GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT ABOUT DULCINEA DEL TOBOSO SORAYA MONTENEGRO SEPTIMUS

I GOT YOU, BITCH

YOU DIDN'T GET PAST ME

ok, let's back it up a bit, but I needed to get that out of my chest for a sec

out of my guts, like the key she hid in the 5th necro bride's body

(too soon)

anyway, after yandere simulator w/inner chad left the room, gideon, harrowbean and my qp wife realized palmolive was gone

and everyone knows where he went because his dick has been a compass the whole time

or, like gideon puts it, he's been a weenie

camilla, the light in the dark, the sun to my moon, tells gideon and harrow that palmolive has been corresponding with dulcinea since he was like 8 and she was like 15 and he's been in love with her the whole time

and that he's made his lifelong purpose to save her life

there are many levels of Issues here

but at this point, we don't have time to unpack any suitcases

all this just proves to me that camilla has been carrying all the weight of the world on her shoulders even more, but anyway

they also feel confused as to why dulcinea has been ghosting palmolive massively since HE PROPOSED TO HER

palmolive, my man, my dude, just...what the fuck is your life

what are you doing, my guy

anyway, I immediately started thinking some soul possessing or some stuff like that could be going on, like she's not herself, but there's no time to theorize much

gideon feels terrible because she's been flirting with dulcinea in front of palmolive's salad all along and says something like "why do I have to be so attractive?" to which harrow answers something like "if you weren't, people would deck you after 5 minutes" which is a very good read

so gideon goes to find palmolive and he stops her with necro magic and enters dulcinea's room and outs her as the murderer

who is surprised??? not me, of course

so, basically, ducinea The Real One died at some point before arriving like protozoa, and this bitch here is a previous lyctor whose name I cannot remember so we will call her not!dulcinea

the real dulcinea was the other roasted body in the furnace

and protozoa was killed by her also which, again, the sword through the heart was a good indicator it wasn't an accident, but harrow was the only one who saw the body

non!dulcinea is a lyctor of the seventh that served the emperor and did the soul slurping thingy and already has her cav within her ("inside her" sounds...not great)

and she wanted to stir some shit up to get the man of the hour to show up and get revenge and whatnot

the emperor, coming back to canaan house from some holidays that took longer than he expected

it's not totally clear, because there's still a lot we don't know, but it sounds a bit like a toxic relationship with an authority figure

palmolive then proceeds to immolate himself like superman going super solar flare, but not being able to heal himself after, unlike superman

after that, all hell breaks loose

not!dulcinea tries to kill gideon

camilla tries to kill not!dulcinea

harrow also enters the fight and brings gideon's sword

like, the real one

you can hear the audience cheering when she catches her sword like it was filmed in front of a live studio audience

gideon and harrow team up against the mega massive monster junji ito concoction that killed isaac

they do the mind mesh thingy

harrow unlocks a new power

like in the sims

she also passes out for a bit

gideon gets her knee and shoulder fucked up

camilla is amazing and does amazing things

non!dulcinea seems to be too tough to win against

yandere simulator twin w/inner chad enters the chat

they fight like goku and vegeta for a while but non!dulcinea ends up using her like a battery

which is, to me, the revenge of duracell bunny nephew from beyond the veil or wherever he went

like, poetic cinema fate

I have no idea where regina george twin is at this point

last we saw of her, she was crying in a corner

which, mood tbh

so, where I left off for now, we've got three survivors accounted for: gideon, harrowbean and my qp wife, there's a lost twin somewhere in there and then there's yandere simulator twin being used as a charging pad by non!dulcinea

I want to take a moment to point out something, though

I want to briefly point out how MASSIVELY FUCKED UP EVERYONE WAS COMING INTO THIS

like, harrow was "oh no, we mustn't let people know you're not actually my cavalier and that I puppeteered my parents and that there's a frozen barbie in the ninth" and gideon was "oh no, I mustn't let people know I'm not a ninth cav and I don't use a rapier and I have a complicated relationship with my necro"

and everyone else LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE WAS BEYOND FUCKED UP

maybe the second weren't because they were ignorant asshats, but EVERYONE WAS MESSED UP

NOBODY HERE WAS FINE

you got the third, with a non necro princess and a feral real necro doing the work of both and chad as their support, look how that turned out so far

the fourth, who weren't tall enough to reach the top shelf and weren't even allowed their keys

the fifth who knew too much so they were goners after throwing a party

the sixth, with a guy who had the hots for a woman twice his age that he had a grey's anatomy fantasy to save that powered his entire reason to be there (and a cav who didn't use the right equipment but is great 10/10 no notes)

the seventh, who's THIS MESS

and the eight, who were doing the creepiest thing possible at all times and couldn't even do it properly

the only ones here who came in without dirty laundry were the second and that's why they were easy targets

everyone else was shady af

the best reality show you've ever watched

anyway, see you for the next one when we'll know who wins between one old lyctor and 3 bad bitches (or 4, if yandere twin is still alive, or 5 if regina george twin shows up again)

[deafsignifcantother]

if music be the food of love, chapter 8

♥ here you go lovies, it’s series time | chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven, chapter nine ♥ summary: uhm yeah he confronts you and goes all demon on you but you're like "babe it's just us babe look at me". reader getting ready to jump off a bridge at any moment because this is the worst confrontation she's been through (but she's having a stone face to not let him win). ♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic to romance) ♥ word count: 3.7k ♥ pinterest board ♥ notes: she's on artfight, and once again i'm getting catholic on you guys. she also is speaking more often. this story is NOT going to get nsfw but i like a lot of mildly sensual things bc I feel like alastor would do crazy shit and not realize how sensual it is. i wrote this while high (it's 3am) ♥ no tag list rn :3

And so you walk, head tilted downwards, back to the hotel. Chatter silences, and people eye you. Instead of sprinting away, they just back up, not knowing your next move. You watch every crack on the street as you step on them, crushing the gravel and tiny bits of concrete.

Zestial had walked you to the door, basically saying his form of "gg" and leaving you alone.

You think of the place where Alastor found you. Leaving Zestial's little study within Carmilla's professional ownership meant walking through that area and that memory.

Just two overlords find an interest in each other, sparing each other's life in a plan to corrupt the other. That's not exactly humorous.

You suppose it's possible that you'd both somehow taken a form of emotional poison, and it had only taken effect just now, but that's only an excuse for corrupt passion. But at the same time, it's not hard to imagine how this physically attractive person, who's been touchy since the day you met, could have lured you in.

The cars coming up the road don't crash like you expect; they only speed up. You're not angry anymore, that's good.

The demonic deer died without a clue of what would happen, the woman died from drowning. It's a bit reminiscent, isn't it?

The hotel is a cemetery now. Each person inside could be tumbling out the moment the doors open. This is both a suspension of your imagination and the sudden thought that you made Alastor angry. He would have come for you first, right?

The two-door entrance, where you can't lock the doors with the key still inside, felt like introducing your doom. He'd know you're back. Are his ears twitching to the sound of your music? It's hard to imagine that any force outside his heart can penetrate his robust interior. You're special to me because I happen to love you quite a lot.

What kind of expression do you have? Do you look scared shitless, as you feel?

You open the doors, peaking your head in before anything else. You pause to catch your breath. Husk is looking off into a distance, and from this angle you can't tell if his eyes are locked into something or if it's a drunken stare.

When he notices you, he smirks, shrugs, a drunken stare. How dare he have the audacity to smirk at you?

If it hadn't been for the disaster of under an hour ago, Alastor might have given you the usual space. And if he had, you wouldn't have the sense that Alastor was just around the corner. Unless you're delusional with paranoia, it looks like he's on the verge of blurting it out.

You face your fears and walk closer to the foyer, letting the door close behind you. Your eyes dart to the couches, but there is no sign of him.

Even though two demons can sneak up at each other simultaneously, you remain across the hotel from each other.

Husk throws a bottle your way, and it crashes against the wall. You don't jump; you just turn your head slowly.

"His tower." He points upwards.

Good, because you're not going up there. You have space until Alastor decides to come down. He'll likely intrude in your space if you attempt to walk to your room. Should you stay here with Husk? Is that going to summon him quicker?

"Husk."

He rolls his eyes, internally begging for you to leave him alone.

You approach, feet echoing through the silent room. A chill runs up your spine from his hard stare. Was he offended from earlier? It doesn't matter; he's going to indulge.

"When was the last time we saw each other, before all of this?" You suddenly ask.

"At a bar, probably. You'd think you were smarter than me and I'd win every time," he laughs at the memory. "Why? Wanna try again?"

You shake your head. "Was I by chance with Alastor?"

"No."

"In other words, we spent time alone, without Alastor."

"What the hell is your point?"

"Nothing," you give him a smile, "I'm just wondering."

He smiled at the memory, what a cute sentiment.

He growls. "I can tell when you're acting stupid. Stop this little act, it's not going anywhere."

Your smile grows more. "When was the last time you thought about me since then? Before you saw me?"

His eyes squint. "What?"

"Am I not allowed to ask questions?"

"No." He signs again.

You lean further on the desk, nodding with a faux understanding expression. "What if we make an unofficial deal?"

"No."

"So," you continue anyway. "You tell me something I want to know, and in return, I tell Alastor to leave you alone when I'm around. You know he'd listen to me. How does that sound?"

"You could have just bought me beer."

"Will that work?"

His hand goes to his forehead, trying to rub the drunkness from his brain.

"If you don't forget your promise."

You put a hand out, getting his attention again. "And we can gamble again, like old times."

"Sure." He places his hand on the table, staring at them, flexing his claws to prepare for his following words. "What's the question?"

"Did you know Alastor was going to bring me here?"

As he hit his fist on the table, it vibrated, a bottle on the wood shaking a bit. He hadn't touched the drink since you walked over.

His hands lift before dropping again. He wants to sign another why, but that won't satisfy you at this point.

"I think so."

"You think so?"

"He said old friend. I didn't think about it too hard. He said you could help us."

Your spine straightens. Your shoulders raise, your eyebrows furrowing. "That I could help, that's what he said?"

And not that he wanted to be near you again?

"Don't let it get to your head," it's a strange comfort. "He's... Hey, just be cautious."

And then his ears flicker, eyes looking behind you, and you embrace the inevitable. If you could predict the future, you imagine Alastor's hands gripping your shoulders and instantly throwing you to the floor before eating you alive.

Warm breath brushes against your neck, the bangs of a familiar friend hitting your head. Husk turns away. You try to do the same, but a hand wraps around you and pulls you around.

"May I walk you to your chambers?"

"Always such a gentleman."

"Yes, I'm afraid that's true."

What does that mean? Ugh, he's the worst.

His grip doesn't leave you as he forces you to his side, the other hand holding his cane behind him, neither available for communication. This is better than getting his constant teasing.

But he's definitely been planning this since the moment you left. The more you reflect, the more genuine he seems. He hugged you after the meeting and invited you into the kitchen just to rest with you.

As the two traveled, nothing happened for a while. You just try to match his steps while getting comfortable in his rough grip.

And your room approaches. The optimistic part of you wants him to drop you off and leave you alone for the night. But, of course, that wasn't his plan. He stood in front of your door. Did he expect you to open it?

He just stared at it, smile dark, expecting, ready. His grip on your releases.

You reach a hand towards the door knob.

And then the door of his room slams open. A tentacle wraps around your waist, pulling you into the room and lifting you from your feet. It only lets go when Alastor closes the door from behind him.

You don't back away when he strides long and stands before you. He growls, showing his gums and his eyes showing nothing but resentment. He looks at every part of your calm face. His hands lift to grab you but then drop, once again expecting you to move.

After a few seconds of motionless stares, he lifts a hand, touching your speaker, the fast heartbeat pulsating against his fingers. He digs his fingers in the tight space between your skin and the metal. And then he slowly removes it, revealing the strong muscle layer beneath it. You sigh.

You often used to do that, placing your speaker somewhere to sneak up on a victim.

The music goes silent. Alastor kindly holds it in his hand, not letting his claws pierce it. You hate it when your speaker isn't a part of you. It feels as if your heart has been ripped out, and though it causes no pain, the emptiness is a physical and mental anguish.

And then he walks past you, placing the stereo on the table between two lounge chairs. The fireplace ignites. You look at him while he motions to the chair across from him, buttoning down his overcoat and laying it on the head of the chair.

Something horrible is advancing, slowly but surely the situation will only get worse. You try to have a normal stride as you sit on the opposite chair, pushing your dress under you more comfortably, trying not to fidget with your lace, red sleeves.

Whatever passion he shared for you only exists to show signs of warning, his smile more threatening than ever. If you end up dying, you'll die with a look of astonishment on your face.

"Dearest, how do you feel?" He asks. What a pointless question. Does he really expect you to answer? What a sensitive, compassionate question. You almost run away once again.

"Did I betray you?" You ask. "Do I need to apologize?"

His smile widens. Your tone is almost non-caring.

"I'd appreciate an apology, yes."

"Well, I'm sorry for doubting you. I still don't know if you were just joking or not, but judging by this reaction, I, uhm... I'm sorry."

"It's not just anger," he reads your mind.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Jealousy? Aggravation? Hatred?

He continues before you have the chance to lift your hands. "I am fearful, too."

He crosses his legs, soothing his suit. His fingers interlock and rest on his knees, looking at you expectantly, waiting for your response to his rare sensitivity. But then he changes his mind, suddenly raising his hands, signing faster than usual. "Think about it. I presume you've grown to consider me some beast that comes from out the woods. And at the same time, you're just a girl who has clung to me. What does that make you? You melt into my touch while trying to get as far away from me as you can."

"You do the same thing."

And in an instant, his claws sharpen, his hair goes into spikes, and he grips onto the chair. You fight the urge to react in fear. This is just his emotive wall, you remind yourself. At least he's trying.

He isn't giving you room to respond; he hasn't been. "How insensitive. You're trying to dissect me but it won't work, I can see through you."

A stiff shrug is your only response. You squeeze your hands to soothe the shaking before you respond. "You're a trendsetter."

His body grows, contorting, and he lifts himself from his chair, both hands reaching to grab you. Even this smiling shadow circles you. The lights flicker before shutting off completely. The only light is the fireplace and the glow of his eyes, not including the green aura his anger lets off.

"You think this is a joke?"

Not at all. Acting like a scared little girl will only feed his ego; knowing his words messed with you will satisfy him.

This reaction is what you wanted. You stand, hands nearing his face, leaning close, straining your own life by swooping his bangs out of the way, pressing a kiss to the target on his forehead. You force your forehead on his. His hands immediately claw into your skin, a threat, a warning that he's going to break you in half.

But you speak to him, a low whisper. "Your love is not a joke to me."

His hands touch your stomach as he shoves you away. You fall to the floor, body having missed the chair behind you.

"Enough," he signs. "Do not touch me lest I'll take your soul."

You don't even try to sit up, head on his carpet. Your hair falls on either side of your face, and you keep your eyes on Alastor as he crawls just barely over you. You keep a straight face. "You wouldn't hurt me."

One of his hands raises while the other plants by your side, wrist brushing against your ankle. His bowtie is crooked, his collar half up and half down. The disordered fashion is unlike him, you've never seen it before.

"Physically."

And that hand presses on your stomach, clawing at it until the fabric of your dress rips. The warm air hits you. His threatening nature doesn't cause the usual butterflies.

He sits up. "I hate this dress."

When you tilt your head, he continues. "I hate the good memories, I hate cherishing you."

You raise to your elbows, but he slams you back down.

He finally crawls over you, knees cradling your thighs, his hands on either side of you. Your fingers brush against his. He leans down, putting his forehead against yours. His breathing is heavy, his smile is closed, and his lips threatening to open in a snarl. You keep your eyes open; his are calmly closed. Around a minute pasts, the longest minute of your life. His breathing slows, and his body returns to normal. His head remains in front of yours, almost shielding your eyes from his transformation. He tilts his head, not leaning in but changing the angle of his access.

And as quick as he can, he leans back, arms stiff and straight, eyes expansive with fascination. You try to calm your eyes and remain stoic, but your lips part, and your eyes shine in response. He runs his eyes through your upper body, with no sense of salaciousness, staring at the hole in your chest and your hands, relaxing against the floor.

If you're ever in danger, he thinks, it will be the end of me.

"That."

"That."

"Yes, that."

Like the rest of this conversation, you wait for him to interrupt you, but his arms relax. He can't stop staring at you, unblinking. Finally, you shift uncomfortably under his stare.

"What?" You pinch your fingers together.

His smile widens. He looks so attractive when he looks down at you like that, attempting to calm his breath, his red button-up wrinkled with violent movements. You log this memory into your brain to hold onto forever.

"The forehead touch, the first time we did that you were wearing this."

His hands slide down your waist, and you try to jolt away. His hands move back. "Apologies."

"I didn't know you liked the forehead thing so much."

"My darling, can't you remember that I initiated it first? But you refuse to remember, silly girl, while I can never forget. There was a swirl of love in your eyes, I had never seen somebody look at me like that. You had lost your mind."

You smile, lips lifting unintentionally. "Didn't you run away?"

His smile drops only a bit. He shakes his head, hands not lifting anymore, and he stands, offering a hand to you. As if you weigh nothing, he lifts you to your feet with one motion.

You change the topic, intending to save yourself. "May I touch your collar?"

He tilts his head up, still remaining silent but smiling, the corner of his mouth returning high on his cheeks at your touch. Your fingers fold his collar back, straightening his bowtie and tightening it. "There you go."

He grabs your wrists, puts them to his lips, and kisses them softly. Instead of dropping them immediately, he leans into your knuckles, holding himself there until you grab both cheeks. His eyes close, and he smiles small.

Can't wait to tell Zestial about this.

This embrace has only ever been in your imagination. You never pictured how warm Alastor was, how he admitted to liking (loving? still difficult to process) you, the way he held your speaker as if it was a newborn kitten, his claws never drawing blood on your skin no matter how much he wanted to, and you'd definitely never imagine his small smiles.

Is this what he has been wanting all along? Was Husk just seeing the worst in him?

Alastor's hands hold your shoulder blades as he pulls you in enough for your hands to still touch his cheeks. His hair rests against the top of your head, making you smile.

But with a twitch of his hands, you both realize something. You have yet to say it back. You bite your lip, leaning away, still not removing your hands from his face. His eyes peek at you, red eyes glowing. Your hands remain in their place.

Think of Zestial's advice, think of Zestial's advice, think of Zestial's advice.

A deep breath leaves you. He straightens his body, your hands falling from him. All you do is lift up your fingers, ily, not sign the sentence, and put it against his chest. He doesn't look at your hand. He stares at you.

Your other hand signs a soft "Please."

For now, he'll accept your hesitation. But he won't again.

You return your hands to yourself. "Let love be without dissimulation." His ears press to the back of his head. He tries to grab your hands, but you don't stop, so you take a big step back. "Abhor that which is evil and cleave to that which is good."

"Those verses mean nothing." His claws bump into each other as he signs, his precise angles long gone.

"They do to me, let love be genuine, Alastor. Mutual affection, don't you understand?"

Another argument approaches: "Do not bring those verses into my life, any of them. You challenged me once, and I will not let you challenge me again."

He points his finger at you, and you stare at it. "Is your love genuine?"

"You're letting words play in your head," he points to his temple, doing the crazy motion. "You're doubting me again."

"You didn't answer."

He reaches forward, fingers curved to emphasize his claws, but he stops his grasp only centimeters away from your shoulders. "My dear, you're driving me crazy."

"You ruined my dress."

"You're always so good at changing the subject."

You can't help but smile. Alastor's anger becomes less threatening the longer it lasts; his sharpened hair and strong shoulders just make you want to caress him into normalcy.

The lights flicker back on. You look around, eyeing the environment you didn't get the chance to see before. "So this is your room?"

His hands drop dramatically.

You sign, "I'm a bit disappointed there's no huge portraits of me, how dare you."

When you're eyeing the bones on his wall, he puts his overcoat back on, pulls the sleeves down, and buttons his waist. The rip around your stomach is the most visible part of your appearance, he snaps it away, glancing off to the side nervously. He needs to control himself more. He needs to stop acting like such a baby around you. But how you look at him draws him in more than anything; he's truly never been around someone who has treasured him as much as you do. Your eyes light up whenever he touches you, and you sulk when he pulls away. Do you live off of the contact? Sometimes it feels like it.

So when you turn to face him again, hands rubbing against the place on your stomach where the rip was, his eyes twitch a bit and watch your hands.

"Ah, my dear, put those hands to better use."

You squint, tilting your head before he wraps his arms around your thighs and lifts you up. You let out a loud woah, hands gripping his neck, his face plush against your collarbone. He feels the dip of the empty space where your speaker once was.

He spins around, gaining laughs from you, his main goal. He wants this night to be a good memory. Your hands roam upwards to the back of his head, your nails digging into his skull, pulling on his hair. He groans, vibrating against your skin, tightening his hands on your thighs. When your hands run up his hair, puffing it up with your touches, he feels a chill down his spine. So that's what that feels like. It's thrilling.

Before you can even process the lack of contact, he throws you onto his bed. You bounce in place, the pillows moving alongside you, and a shadow pulls you higher up, wrapping a blanket around you.

Alastor swipes his hands together, almost clapping. "Get some rest, darling!"

And traveling with his shadow, he looms over you, standing, holding your speaker in one hand. He slips it in place, the music pulsating before starting off again. How exquisite, you must love him.

"Alastor." You try and sit up.

"No, no, darling, put your little head to rest." He pushes you down. "We have to make sure you don't start sulking again, I don't want my residents being tortured by your dear melodies," he snaps his fingers and puts you in your nightly clothes, the red dress draped over the same chair, his coat was, "I'll always be here if you need me."

"I know." You stare at him through your eyelashes. He definitely wants you to try to sleep so you don't go roaming around flustered. What time is it even? Considering his little meltdown, you won't try to test him on it.

"Well," he stands, and you realize how tall he is from this angle. "Try and have good dreams."

You just scoff, turning to your side, capturing a second pillow in your grasp, and cuddling with it. Alastor definitely doesn't use this bed, it smells like nothing at all. Disappointing. You need to change that soon.

[outerbankies]

so I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep, and I'll watch you forget me like I used to feel you breathe..." for the prompts

new light: last kiss

new light masterlist a/n: thank you for sending this in!! the 2k prompt celly slooowly trucks along. this takes place in part 9 of the og series!

When Rafe told Topper that Ward had called him home, he should’ve expected this exact scenario.

And yet, it’s still somehow a surprise when Topper and Kelce pull up to Tannyhill on Friday evening, mere hours since Rafe even pulled in himself. It was an exhausting drive home, and an even more exhausting talking-to from his father afterward. Add onto that that he hadn’t been sleeping much at all in the past week, and Rafe felt like half-dead climbing into Topper’s Jeep.

“Lodge?” Topper had asked. 

Rafe had shrugged, looking away with intention before he could see the look his friends exchanged between themselves. But the view out the window was no better when Topper drove right by your house. 

You were everywhere here.

Rafe knew coming home would be taxing. But it was like he could feel you in the stubborn humidity still hanging around in October almost as clearly as he had felt you in California only a week ago. In June, you’d insisted on leaving a window open to sleep because you missed the sound of cicadas in the summer, and Rafe would wake up sweating buckets to find you sleeping peacefully to his side, bodies pressed so closely together he could feel your chest moving when you breathed.

And it was he could hear your laughter in the sound of the ocean waves crashing on his drive right by the water, all the way out to Figure 8. The salt in the air, the chaotic noises of the marina. 

After a few drinks, Rafe figures he’ll probably be able to see your outline walking through town.

Topper’s whistle is shrill in his ear, and Rafe really needs to do a better job pretending he’s alright if he’s going to make it through this weekend without spilling anything. 

“Dude. What’s with you?” Rafe is asked. Even Kelce, never not known to fill an awkward silence, is looking at him silently from across the table. 

“Nothing,” Rafe decides sipping down the rest of his IPA until its foam. Wordless eye contact with Charlie at the bar, and another one’s coming.

“Old man give it to you pretty good today?” Kelce asks.

“Kinda,” Rafe answers. He can’t really remember at this point. It was a lot of the same; a lot about you. His distraction, his hindrance. His everything.

“Alright then. So… shots?” Topper asks hesitantly. Rafe shrugs, his go-to for the night he supposes, and Kelce nods emphatically; Topper’s taking that as good enough, venturing to the bar. Rafe watches him try and fail to cut through a pack of tourists with no luck. Tourists, at Rafe’s dingy bar on The Cut, this late in the season.

“Rafe.” Kelce says, and it sounds like it might have been the third or fourth try.

“Sorry, dude,” Rafe replies. “You know, I think I’m going home after this round. I’m exhausted—been driving all fuckin’ day.”

“No, no worries,” Kelce says. “I was just asking if you saw McCall’s story the other night.”

Rafe sees Kelce’s phone in his hand and averts his eyes as quickly as he can, squandering the urge to start choking on his spit by loudly clearing his throat. He trains his focus on his empty pint instead, dragging the glass and its condensation back and forth across the table, wondering when his new one—or better yet, that round of shots—will materialize. “No. I haven’t. You follow McCall?”

“Yeah, she’s hot. And shit was so funny, dude. Y/n/n was hammered last night,” Kelce laughs.

Rafe should’ve know that’s where this was heading—why else would Kelce bring that up. But he’s 15 again. Then 19, 20 and 21, too. All those ages in between. He’s every age he ever was before he finally got you to fall in love with him, dreading the moment Kelce inevitably brought up your name. 

Things were a little different this time. Rafe’s not an embarrassed and lovesick teenager willing his blush to creep back down his neck. He supposes he’s more of a man now, jaded and stuck walking around his hometown like an open wound, while you’re out with your friends. But he guesses he is, too. 

He should be happy, shouldn’t he? That you seem to be having fun? He’d ended it. You’d agreed. Even though he could tell you didn’t want to, you had. In way, you’d let him go, too. You’d made a choice just like he had, and maybe it wasn’t getting you down as much as it was him. He’d broken your heart, and you’d deleted your photos together and went out drinking with your friends. 

God, where are those shots?

“I didn’t even know Y/n still drank like that,” Kelce continues. “Not without you around anyway. I’m talking senior ditch day levels of shitfaced, if you remember that.” 

You blacked out on Kildare’s senior ditch day, Rafe remembers it well. Because he’d been the designated driver for Matteo’s party, which meant he was the one who had to then decide which friend was sober enough to watch the rest of your friends while he got you out of there, safely out of that house and into your own, all without losing it on whatever guy from the lacrosse team had got you that way and whatever friend of Rafe’s hadn’t been watching it closely enough. Rafe had been the one to hand you off to your younger brother, praying to god Dylan wouldn’t tell and make Rafe complicit in your parents’ future disdain. And he’d been the one to receive an embarrassed text from you the next day. And he’d been the one who didn’t care, just glad you were okay. That Rafe could never fathom sharing a first kiss with you, but the last one would make a lot more sense to him.

“Yeah, well. Not really my problem anymore,” he snaps, before he can decide to do otherwise, residual anger from that day toppling over the mess of emotions he already was.

Kelce rolls his eyes. “Please. You were making her your problem before she ever even was. And I’ll drink to that, actually—I wonder where those shots—”

“I broke up with her.”

Kelce cracks a grin, letting out a surprised laugh. A few seconds go by, and the grin falls. “I know you’re not joking about that, Rafe.”

A sad country songs takes over on the speakers, and Rafe hides his face in his hands, unable to bear the look on Kelce’s face when it finally dawns on him. It was hard enough around the only others who knew, and Rafe would honestly prefer his roommates in Georgia were still as oblivious as Kelce had been a few seconds ago, and as Topper still is at the bar right now. He’d tried to keep it that way, for a while at least, but it didn’t take long after Graham picked him up from the airport for his best friend to figure it out. 

Graham must have passed it on to Sawyer and Cody soon after, because he didn’t get a second of normalcy before the kid gloves came out. Those guys didn’t even know you, hadn’t even seen Rafe around you save for grainy FaceTimes over the summer, the ones Rafe had cut off in favor of giving you his undivided attention. He can’t believe he was even nervous at the idea of you meeting them at this point—he’d give anything to stress over something so idiotic now.

But Kelce knew you, better than he knew Rafe or maybe just the same. And Rafe didn’t know what to make of Kelce having no idea of what had happened, indication you’d told him as much as Rafe had. When his friends showed up at Tannyhill today, he’d half expected the death glare he’s getting right now when Rafe picks his head up again.

“Say it again.”

“Kelce,” Rafe groans, pained.

“Say it again,” he presses. “Say it one more time, Rafe, and I’ll know you’re serious.”

“I broke up with her,” he says. “We broke up.”

“You broke up with her?” Kelce repeats. “Or you broke up?”

“Whoa.” 

Topper’s reappeared, a flight of shots in his hands that Rafe is shocked actually make it onto the table and don’t smash all over the sticky ground. 

“Whoa,” Topper repeats dumbly. “What? Who broke up with who?”

“I don’t know, Top,” Kelce says, scooting his stool back, the feet scraping loudly on the same sticky floor. “‘Cause I’m having trouble understanding, too.”

“Can you not be so fucking dramatic?” Rafe sneers, picking the shot glass closest to him and downing it without a thought. He downs the second closest, too, just for good measure. 

“I’m gonna call her right now,” Kelce warns, his phone already in his hand. “You have one more chance to tell me this is the dumbest fucking joke you’ve ever told.”

“Guys,” Topper says hesitantly. He glances between Rafe and the only remaining shot, worried.

Rafe looks to Kelce, and having no doubt he’s serious, gives the only reply that comes to mind. “Will y’make sure she’s alright?”

“God fucking dammit, Cameron,” Kelce sighs, beelining for the front door, somewhere Rafe is glad he won’t have to hear whatever comes out of his mouth next. 

Topper sits down, looking bewildered, picking up that third shot. He offers it to Rafe, who waves him off, before taking it. “I’m sorry. What?”

Rafe hasn’t cried, Rafe doesn’t cry, but if his best friend makes him say it one more time then he might have to put stock into the tightening in his throat or the pressure behind his eyes he’d been feeling since he left California. 

He’d been sleeping in your bed a week ago, waking up hours before you because his body was still ahead, content to let you sleep as long as possible while he took in everything he felt being close to you again, how your face and hair and nails had subtly changed since he last got to see you in August. How you had pictures of him by your bed, stuck on your mirror in your bathroom, hanging in the hallway and even under magnets on the fridge downstairs. How your blinds were in need of fixing, your sheets smelled just like they did back in Kildare, how the stack of books on your bedside table—one of their pages split down the middle by a polaroid he knew was of him and Wilbur—was so close to falling off Rafe barely dared to set his phone and wallet down but did anyway. 

Because they fit, just like he somehow fit in your bed and in your heart and in your life, so grateful in these moments he got to love you without thinking twice about it, wondering how he ever got along without them. And you’d wake up with fake annoyances that he hadn’t woken you up with him, kissing him sleepily before going downstairs to start a pot of coffee. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Top,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Well—tell me what happened, to start,” Topper says. “Or—are you ready for that?”

When Charlie finally, finally, brings over another beer, Rafe figures he might was well try. “I felt like I wasn’t doing anything right. She’s crying all the time, I’m fucking up and pissing her off left and right. Her friends… fuck, I don’t even know if they liked me. I’m sure they don’t now.” 

“But that’s not why…”

“I know you’re trying to understand, but—”

“And I can’t, dude. What? You broke up with Y/n/n?”

“Yes, dude, fuck! Alright? I broke up with her. I fucked it up. I don’t know why everyone’s so fucking surprised—I was bound to screw it up at some point, wasn’t I? I’m a mess, I lied to her, I was never gonna be good enough for all of it or her.”

“You lied?” Topper asks. 

“I lied to my dad,” Rafe corrects, frustrated. “Why  do you think I’m here? This is my life. This. My job, my dad, this shitty bar on this shitty island. And she’s…”

So good, too good. Way too good for Rafe.

Topper must agree to an extent, and Rafe doesn’t know why that makes him feel better, that his friend lets the silence drag for so long. Maybe it gives Rafe time to convince himself he hadn’t fucked up, that he’d made the right move in letting you go. He doesn’t know how he ever convinced himself this wasn’t the only way this could end.

Topper finally nods his head in recognition. “That’s heavy. No chance you’ll work it out?”

He barely thought at all this week, going through the motions like a zombie, ignoring his roommates when they changed their tack and decided Rafe needed to get over it by going out or calling up an old favorite. The nausea that kind of thinking gave Rafe left him with no other choice but to start locking his door and stop answering their texts until they’d worried he died.

Kelce approaches the table again, and Rafe looks for any sign he can that will indicate how it went, but he only addresses Topper.

“I can’t get a signal outside—fuck The Cut—I’m gonna try the bathroom. And you,” Kelce says, pointing at Rafe. “You better find your own way home until I can figure out if I need to punch you in the face or not.”

“Stop, Kelce, what the fuck, man?” Topper says, watching him go. But he stands to follow him before turning back to Rafe. “I’m gonna go cool him off, alright? Don’t go anywhere, you’re shitfaced. We can work this out.”

Rafe watches them walk away, wondering briefly if he’s gonna lose either of them over this. He might deserve it, he decides as he ignores Topper’s only instructions, tossing a few bills at the end of the bar along with all three shot glasses stacked neatly inside the empty pint he’s holding. Charlie nods at him as he does.

Rafe pushes the door open, deciding he could use the walk.

[anarchistfrogposting]

I don't consider myself an anarchist but i'm pretty sympathetic, there's just some stuff i'm not sure yet would work well under anarchism as i understood it after reading the bread book.

What would incentivize people to work, for example, at oil rigs away from their communities doing dangerous work?

Would it be that they'd have a smaller expectation for how long they're suposed to work? Like, instead of you working 9-5 for 8 months instead you work 9-5 for 4 months and then can just do things you like the rest of the year?

Yes hi hello! This post re-emerged from the depths of accidental deletion!! I’m getting the bus to go get a burrito so let me talk about this one!!

Kropotkin actually talked about dangerous work; after all, some work is just inherently and unavoidably a bit more dangerous than others: so what’s the point? Why bother?

To start, resource extraction is going to be inherent to any industrial economy, but it’s worth pointing out that when you eliminate a lot of overproduction, an inefficiency inherent to capitalist economy, the demand for extraction is going to shoot down in a big way. That’s a big reason why a lot of the more hardcore environmentalist movements have been radical leftist ones; it’s features inherent to capitalism which are bringing about the downfall of the environment which sustains us.

Another big consideration to make is that a lot of the danger of these fields arises solely because the demands of the profit motive incentivise management to overwork/underpay/cut back on or wholesale eliminate critical safety measures; there’s a reason why unions and collectives in those fields are such critical players in the constant battle to keep people safe.

There are quite a few fields in the domestic/public sector, as well (think electricians, certain waste management professions etc.) which are (and were more so in the past) fairly dangerous but are not generally regarded as such because they’re regulated well in the public domain/have very strong unions/have otherwise strong safety regulation.

This stuff gets safer and safer as we improve the automation of our economy, as well.

It’s worth remembering as well that those remote professions and operations are, in a way, their own communities, as well, and for some people travelling long distances away for more lonesome work is quite an attractive prospect; I once knew a geologist who said he found the relative isolation quite peaceful. My great grandad did some remote mining and he always talked quite positively about it when I knew him (although this is very anecdotal - if anybody in the field wants to weigh in I’d be more than happy to hear what you think).

About hours as well;

If there’s no profit motive, then industrial processes are going to be driven by how to do them as safely, efficiently, and easily (among other stuff). The demand for hours is going to be a lot less tough because you’re going to be able to have more workers and source better equipment without worrying about how it will cut into your bottom line; so yes, the hours will be shorter and the shifts less demanding, with a greater support network and safety network when shit hits the fan. All of this, of course, makes this kind of work a lot more attractive.

But what about dangerous work in general? Why would anyone put themselves in danger?

You just have to look at the tremendous danger that volunteers face to understand that humans don’t really need a profit motive to put their lives on the line to better their communities and the world, or to feel part of something greater than themselves. Not everyone is going to want to do that, and that’s ok, but some people really derive a lot of happiness and fulfilment from dangerous work.

Humanity is flexible and diverse; working together to champion that is our strength, and it always has been.

[papermint-airplane]

I'm really not doing well guys. Tl;dr my life sucks a lot. That's all you need to know.

My job is still jerking us around on the layoffs. They started in October of last year with "we're selling the department and laying everyone off in February" then when March rolled around and nothing had happened yet, told everyone "lol just kidding the buyer dropped out". So a lot of people quit because this clown company just told everyone it was willing to sell their jobs out from under them and didn't give a shit who was affected or how.

My job is not a job that can function when short staffed. It was already short staffed before they pulled this fakeout layoff shit and now we're lucky to have two people scheduled at any given time. They're paying thousands in overtime, begging people to come in even for a couple of hours on their days off because we don't have enough people to cover one shift, let alone the three they need because the department is 24/7. Customers are rude and entitled. I've been threatened, I've been called horrible names, I've been told I'm a shit human being and don't deserve to live. I'm not allowed to hang up on them. I'm expected to sit there and just take it and not say anything. Most days, we're so busy that I can't take my daily fifteen minute break or even get up to go to the bathroom. And that's only scratching the surface of what goes on at my job.

I have had a history of overworking myself in that job and everyone knows it. I've had literally hundreds of public panic attacks, three full-on mental breakdowns where I was screaming and literally tearing handfuls of my hair out in front of my coworkers from stress, ended up in the hospital twice because I thought I was having a heart attack, and took off three months in 2020 to check myself into an inpatient mental healthcare facility all the way across the country. I have had countless meetings with my supervisors and their supervisors and HR about the toxic work environment and shitty management. I had to beg them to take me off my 8 day rotation (four days of ten hour shifts, four days of eight hour shifts, all in succession with no days off in between) because I started shaking and laughing uncontrollably around day 6 because I was having a literal fucking breakdown. I have literally had to be taken away from work in an ambulance before.

On top of my anxiety being the worst it's ever been (and that includes when I lived with my abusive father), my depression has gotten so bad that all I can do nowadays is work and sleep. Sometimes I don't even get fully in the house before I pass out because I'm so exhausted. I have woken up on my living room floor after work more than once. I told them that I could no longer work shifts like that nor could I take overtime for my own mental health. And they still act like I'm lazy because I don't work 14 hour shifts daily. Bitch, I'm barely holding it together with my weekly 40 hours, and I'm expected to work every Thanksgiving and Christmas but that's just not enough. Nothing I do is enough. And now I don't even have enough energy for the few things I have that I still enjoy. Want to know why my Sims story is on hiatus? Because I have to force myself to do literally anything other than sleep. My house looks like a disgusting hoarder's nest because I can barely move on my days off. I cry all the time. I can't stand to be touched. I shower excessively because I feel filthy when I come home from work in a way I can't adequately articulate. My eczema is so bad that my neck and face are literally covered in bloody red rashes. I look horrible. I feel worse. I have gained over 150 lbs since starting that job in 2006. My thyroid is busted. Some days, I truly believe that I died long ago and this is my own personal Hell.

Now they're telling us that "we definitely have a buyer for the department and all the contracts have been signed". They said there'd be a transition period, after which we'd be laid off but we'd be told when the transition period begins. Now, we got an email telling us we're halfway through the transition period and are probably getting laid off in August "but we don't know when in August, so stay tuned." At this rate, I'm likely to show up one day and be told to go home. I have no idea when that will be and I have no way to know how to prepare.

The only reason I'm still putting up with this bullshit is because...well, to be honest, I've put in a lot of applications and got absolutely no replies. I'm an unemployable useless sack of shit. My company is at least giving us a really good severance package. I'm getting 17 weeks of pay (one week for every year I've worked there) plus another four weeks of pay, plus a $1000 bonus for staying through the transition period. I think I will also qualify for unemployment. I'm trying not to freak out but I don't know what I'm going to do when my severance runs out. I have only had two jobs in my entire life: a grocery store job when I was a teenager for 3 years and this job that I've had for nearly 18 years. My resumé is one page. I have no skills outside of this job. I'm never going to get hired anywhere that's going to pay me anywhere near what this hellhole of a job paid me.

I truly wish I were brave enough to kill myself but I'm not. I keep living and it keeps getting worse and I'm bombarded with hundreds of news articles and Tumblr posts every day telling me how the world is falling apart around me, so even if by some miracle I manage to find a job that pays me enough to fucking live, I don't have a future anyway. I'm almost 40 and I keep waiting for my life to begin but it never does. And it never will. I will never be happy. I will never be safe. I don't deserve happiness. I don't deserve safety. My own fucking parents hated me from the moment my mom read the lines on her pregnancy test. If my own parents can't love me, nobody can. I'm on medication and in therapy but sometimes, I wonder if it's doing anything at all. You can't fix what's wrong with me. I was just born wrong. And no matter where I go or what kind of job I end up in, the same shit will just keep repeating over and over and over because that's all I deserve. I'll just keep on hurting until global warming or war takes me out and I end up in real Hell.

In an hour, I'm going to regret writing any of this and probably delete this post. Because I'm supposed to take it and not say anything.

My Sims are the only thing that gives me any comfort anymore. Even then, I don't have the energy or attention span to do the things I want. I'm just as irrelevant on Simblr as I am in real life. If I disappeared tomorrow, nobody would notice.

[velvetlilacsdaisies]

Flames & Weapons pt. i

OC!Fem!Reader x Garrick Tavis, OC!Fem!Reader x Bodhi Durran

Word count: 3.5k

Synopsis: What happens when you attend Basgiath war college as an infantry cadet with your lover, your ride or die best friend and your twin brother? Alot of fucking shit. Follow the story of our oc’s Allie Henrick and Katia Lalley as their bond of friendship remains strong as their dynamics of life change around them. What happens when they meet two fellow first year riders in their first year? Will their world change forever? Then again nothing can be as expected in war college. Stay tuned as our oc's become badass infantry cadets.

Warnings: swearingggg (a lot.), iron flame spoilers???, NO USE OF Y/N!!, mentions of cheating, let me know if we missed anything 🤭

Author’s Note: SURPRISE!! A month in the making thx to my procrastination hehe sorry allie. This is a self indulgent fever dream of a collab between @garricks4thwingqueen (president of the garrick tavis fan club fr) it’s first person original character fic. Primarily focusing on GarrickxOC but with side quests of BodhixOC as well. It’s an entirely new perspective for me to write bc i do y/n pov or third person so this was a treat. We hope you all enjoy!

Three years…three years I had spent in that toxic cesspool of a relationship. For what? For everything I had an intuition about to be true? Fucking incredible. Nothing like being right and a fool, maybe once RSC started Malek could put me out of my misery, and save me from the overwhelming amount of embarrassment I felt. The clock tower in the courtyard sounded alerting it was a quarter to 8, indicating it was almost time for Battle Brief as the chatter in the halls started to die down outside my door.

I sighed, finally rolling myself out of bed after lying there, staring at the ceiling replaying the events of last night since the alarm on my bedside table went off an hour ago, but I was numbly stuck in the warmth of my blankets. What a waste of time… I’ve repeated that to myself for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning.

I barely had enough time to get dressed in the navy blue uniform I grew accustomed to, and put my auburn hair into the slicked-back bun I had to wear, my hair was barely unkempt and uniform not as crisp as the codex required. I was sure to get yelled at by one of the executive lieutenants today, but I didn’t quite care, too numb to feel the usual anxiety I would feel about abiding by the stupid little handbook we were given in the beginning of the year. I dreaded every second of the thought of going to Battle Brief. Being forced into proximity with Zachariah made my stomach churned at the flashbacks of last night.

Minimal conversation was my goal for today, I thought, setting the agenda internally for myself as I walked to Battle Brief. Just make sure my battalion doesn’t do anything stupid and stay in line. I didn’t need to get reprimanded anymore than I probably already would be today. Plus after the night I had prior, I just couldn’t bother with much interaction with anyone. It’s bad enough I had to show up for classes. I put my bag on my shoulder and made sure that my door was locked as I made my way to the academic wing of the infantry quadrant. I was never more thankful for having my own room, one of the primary perks of being a Battalion leader.

I entered the somewhat crowded hall that was used for Battle Brief. A giant map in the middle of the room, showing all of Navarre. Keeping my head down as I made my way to my usual spot.

"Allie you missed breakfast." My best friend, Katia, said concerned. I slid into my seat between her and my twin brother, Drew. He offered a tight-lipped smile in greeting. “You’re going to be sluggish through morning lessons.” She added.

"Fuck off, I’m not gonna die if I miss breakfast." I whispered snappily.

"Eat this," Drew said with a roll of his eyes, ignoring my foul mood, tossing an orange to me.

It landed on my desk with a thud, as I wasn't paying him any mind, no, my sole attention at this point was on my ex and the girl that had her arm wrapped around his waist as they walked into the enormous classroom. "Fucking hells, Chiara Reid?” Drew hissed lowly to us as they walked by.

"Oh shit?" Left the girl besides me lips as they both realized the cause of my current mood. Katia’s eyes now set to a death glare at the pair that passed by.

“I saw them kissing in the library last night. Dumb ass tried denying it all.” I sneered, pushing the lump that had formed in my throat down.

It was the last straw of the tension that had been building between us in the last few weeks. We had been together since we were teenagers, but I guess that hadn’t accounted for anything when you attend war college together.

The last few months were filled with fighting and arguing over his lingering eyes and neglectful behavior. It had driven me mad to the point that I felt crazy for even accusing him of such thoughts of cheating, but last night had confirmed my intuition was right. Fighting the burn in my eyes as silver tears lined them, threatening to spill. I would not get upset over some loser. Katia grabbed my hand, rubbing small circles on the back of it.

“I’m gonna beat his fucking ass.” Drew glowered, gripping his notebook until his knuckles turned white.

"It's not worth it Drew, he's in our squad you know the penalty," I murmured, glancing his way. "I guess I'm out of a best friend now.” He mumbled, slouching in his seat. I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, feeling guilty that I got in the way of their friendship.

Katia scoffed, “You’re more worried about losing a best friend than the fact he treated your sister like shit? Unbelievable Drew…”

“Yeah, well he was my friend first, and I warned him—” My twin grumbled, leaning over me to glare at her.

“Warned him? I fucking told him I’d castrate him if he ever did something to Al. And unlike your pansy ass I fully intend on keeping my promise.” Her green eyes were darkened.

Drew continued to haughtily argue in a hushed whisper with her trying to prove whatever point. I kept opening my mouth to try to shut them up, but they just kept volleying back and forth retorts to one another before I could get a word in.

I rubbed my temples, trying to focus on what our professor was debriefing instead. I didn’t expect my breakup to cause a full argument between the two people closest to me. Any other topic? Yes. Not this though.

Their voices started to raise as they used meaningless insults as jabs towards one another, causing the attention of the cadets around us to look at us. Including Zachariah and Chiara. The girl only had a smug smirk on her face, which made the impreding frustration that had been rising since I woke up grow even more.

“Silence.” Our professor yelled across the room. I slid myself down into my seat, making myself as small as possible in the crowd of infantry cadets now looking our way.

"Henricks', Lalley I didn't realize this was a socializing hour." The professor shouted mockingly. Instantly, Katia and Drew shut up, muttering coy apologies, both embarrassed they were caught.

“Now can we turn our attention back to the map.” The professor continued the lesson. I had to pinch Katia’s arm as she reached behind me to flick Drew on the side of the head. An “ow” leaving her lips as she finally stopped and actually started to take notes for class.

These two would be the death of me…

"Look I know you guys dated for years, but you had a hunch. Think of this as a celebration of a new chapter?” Katia sighed, stopping mid-route in our evening run.

"I just don't feel like doing anything extra this weekend, especially socializing." I groaned, lifting my hands and resting them on top of my head.

"Which is exactly what you need, to socialize." A mischievous glint sparkled in Katia's hazel eyes. I didn't like that glint. She had always been the rebellious one since we became friends years ago. She always got into trouble, and then I had to bail her out or succumb to her ideas. “We should definitely go to Chantara tomorrow night.”

She used any excuse to find a way to party or sneak off campus. I’m surprised I’ve upheld my titles with her as my executive squad leader with the antics she always seemed to get us into.

"This is the one weekend I'd rather just stay in my room—" I started to protest going back into a jog.

"Just humor me, Henrick." She rolled her eyes. "Besides, I'm finding the infantry dating pool rather incestuous at this point." She pointed in her mouth, making a gagging noise as she kept up her pace with me. "Anddddd Garrick and Xaden will be there and you're finally a single woman." She wagged her eyebrows at me. I just rolled my eyes at the suggestive expression on her face knowing what she was thinking.

"Fine." I huffed in the refreshing air of a late summer evening.

"Yay!" She squealed excitedly. "We're gonna have so much fun! Not to mention Garrick looked like he wanted to beat Zach's guts out before Drew stopped him; after the little spat you two had last weekend."

Garrick and Xaden…Any mingling between Riders and Infantry was frowned upon. The codex even goes as far to state there will be no toleration of inter-quadrant dating during a student’s attendance at Basgiath. But that hadn’t stopped us from becoming friends with riders. The four of us hit it off the first night we met.

I thought to myself silently as I thought back to that first night out in town during first year.

"Damn, we both clean up nice." Katia whistled.

She wasn't wrong, despite wearing our infantry winter fur-lined jackets, we looked good. We didn't have to wear our typical uniformed sleek buns, and finally could let our hair down for once. Despite the anxiety that brewed in the pit of my stomach, I was excited that my best friend had convinced me to sneak out.

I shook my head, "You're crazy, you know that right?" She linked her arm with mine, grinning maniacally in response as we left the barracks.

She led me through tunnels and stairs I’ve never been in since we started infantry a few months ago. “How do you know about this?” I asked again. She’s been rather elusive and secretive on how she even learned about Chantara, the town older Basgiath students would frequent on the weekends to drink, party, and shop at.

She pushed her brunette hair over her shoulder, shooting a wink at me. “It’s amazing what intel you can gather with incredible charm, good looks…a few gold coins.”

We reached an ancient iron gate that a couple second years were standing at. The smell of churam filled the air, making my nose scrunch up. The codex said the herb was forbidden from school property?

One of the second years grinned seeing my best friend. “Lalley, you’ve got some guts. I didn’t think you and your friend would actually show up.”

She walked up to the man, her smile alluring radiating under the dim patterns that lined the stone walls. “My promises and threats are never empty.” Reaching into her pocket, she set two gold coins down into the guy’s hand.

He handed a coin back to her, “promise me a game of darts later at Féasta?”

“Yeah, sure.” She replied coolly, her tone sultry. Though I could tell by the look in her eye, that was one promise she wouldn’t be following up on. I was ready to lose my composure, biting my lip to stifle the laugh about to fall from my lips.

His grin grew even broader. “Sweet, just follow the path through the clearing and you’ll see a fork—take the left. We just let a group of riders through not too long ago. Just follow their obnoxiously loud yelling if you’re unsure.”

She linked her arm with mine, using her free hand to wiggle her fingers at the man in goodbye. “Thanks Trey.”

She discreetly dragged me outside a reasonable distance from the gate before I burst out in giggles. “Thanks Trey?” Mocking her flirty tone.

“Listen,” she giggled lightly herself. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. And I’m desperate for a drink and a dance.”

“It must be so hard to be single.” I said sarcastically.

“We all can’t be fortunate to have their hometown sweetheart attend War college with us now can we?” She used her linked elbow to nudge me, causing me to shy away from her. She just pulled me closer. “You owe me the favor of being a wing woman tonight, I’ve covered for you and Zach too many times this year… and we haven’t even made it to squad assignments yet.”

“Whatever you say Kati.” I just rolled my eyes, shaking my head at her.

The walk into Chantara was brisk, as we giggled about what we should expect for our first night out of Basgiath. The town was lively, citizens of the town and students all throughout the town square browsing the market stalls that lined the cobblestone. Strings of lights glimmered lining the stalls, while musicians played on the corners. Everything was so lively to what we were expecting. There were three different taverns in the town square: Féastas, Lúchás, and Doyle’s. We decided to try Lúchás first seeing the group of riders Trey was talking about wandering in there, along with some couple infantry and healers.

“I knew I should have ordered food when I was up there because I’m starving.” My best friend said as she came back to our table with Lavender Lemonades.

The bar wasn’t crazy packed due to the cold weather, but there was a sizable amount of patrons in here. It was cozy, we had a table right next to the hearth, and I could see why most of the patrons were Basgiath students. The music from the band wasn’t ancient sounding, and the barmaids weren’t either. It was very youthful and merry than the taverns we had back home. Scanning over the decent sized room, my eyes landed on the opposite side of the room. On two riders more specifically, the one looked to be Katia’s type. Tall, tanned skin, dark hair. Though a scar marred his eye, it didn’t take away from his handsomeness. He would be perfect for her.

I did promise an attempt at being her wing woman tonight. My eyes kept lingering on the man next to him. He had an inch or two on his friend, longer dark hair that was more styled than his friend's unruly short waves. The most built man I’ve ever seen, Amari had to have designed her herself, his relic a masterpiece expertly marking his bulky biceps. I have a boyfriend…

“Huh?” I said as she was trying to get my attention, my gaze not leaving the far left corner of the room.

“For once would you not be in a daydream!” She chuckled until her gaze followed mine. “Oh wow, they’re hot.” She blurted.

"Shh, don't be that obvious," I said, slapping her shoulder while we both took in two very tall and handsome riders in their black leathers.

“Oh please like they aren’t even looking our way.” She scoffed, taking a sip of her drink.

But they were, well at least the taller one was looking directly at me as his friend tried to get his attention. And I couldn’t help to unabashedly stare back.

Garrick’s POV

“Garrick!” Xaden half raised his voice snapping his fingers at me, drawing my attention back to our usual corner of the tavern.

“What?” I peered over to my best friend.

“Were you even listening to what I said?” He acted annoyed.

‘Don't lie, you weren't.’ Chradh chuckled.

‘Are all dragons as sarcastic and grumpy as you?’ I chidded back getting only a huff of hot air as my answer. "Yeah, something about… OK yeah no."

Xaden chuckled, finally noticing what had caught my attention across the tavern floor. "You're obviously looking at the shorter infantry cadet, aren't you?” He nudged my side. “Only you would be the one to be six-six, and have a thing for extremely short girls, dude. She can’t even be more than five foot nothing dude.” He rattled off.

Xaden had a thing to point out the obvious and be rather talkative once he had a couple drinks in his system. Reminding me of his younger cousin, Bodhi, every time I had drank with him. I paid no mind to his rambling as I walked to the table the two infantry girls sat at.

“Where are you going? You don't even know if she's single." Xaden started to say as I couldn't help myself. I heard my best friend mutter a curse and his footsteps behind me.

"Could I fancy you two ladies to a friendly game of pool?" I asked the two girls. The taller one looked like she was about to speak first, but the shorter cadet with auburn hair was the first to open her mouth.

“Not even a ‘hi what’s your name?’ Typical rider fashion.” She had a brow arched in my direction, causing her best friend to giggle as she teasingly scoffed in my direction. Holding out her hand she beamed up at me. “I’m Allie, and this is Katia.”

That evening was the first night of what started the friendship of two first-year infantry cadets and two first-year rider cadets. Our friendship only grew over the last year as Drew and Zachariah started joining us. Though Drew and Zach were wary of the riders at first due to silly rivalry between the quadrants.

The next night, Katia met me outside in the alcove of the infantry courtyard like we always had since that winter in first year. The only difference was we no longer had to cough up gold coins to pay our way into town, and could go freely.

Our walk into Chantara was enjoyable as today had been the coldest day in July after our new cadets had joined us just a few weeks ago. My heart rate was almost pounding in my chest as we neared the tavern. Why was I so nervous? Yes this was my first trip into the town as a newly single woman, but that didn’t change much? It already felt like I was single by the end of first year anyway, and we’ve been to Chantara plenty of times since then.

We made our way to our usual end of the tavern where our crew usually hung out which now consisted of Drew, Katia, Xaden, Garrick, and myself. I noticed three extra bodies, two I didn't recognize at all but one had a shorter but similar build to Xaden, the second a female abou Katia’s height with short pink hair that was half shaven. Of course, Drew was shamelessly trying to flirt with her. Then there was the familiar mop of curly-haired dirty blonde 20-year-old I'd recognize anywhere.

"Sawyer!" I said excitedly, wrapping my younger cousin into a tight hug.

"Missed you too, Big Al." He chuckled. I flicked his ear at the mocking nickname.

Sawyer was all that Drew and I had left for our family. Our parents were in infantry while Sawyer's were riders and we lost all of them in an ambush on an outpost several years ago, including Katia’s; her mom a rider and father an infantry cadet. The four of us easily had become a found family of our own.

We were introduced to the other new first-year riders; the man that looked like Xaden was his younger cousin, Bodhi, and the pink haired girl was Imogen. I remember Garrick and Xaden telling us stories about them, so it already felt like I somewhat knew them. Bodhi seemed more eager to talk to us than Imogen. She stood by Sawyer and Xaden’s younger cousin a majority of the time. Even as Katia tried to compliment her hair, she offered dry responses. But everyone fell into a familiar session of banter and catching up on what's been going on for the last couple of weeks.

Throughout the night, I got lost in my thoughts. The summertime had the bar packed to the point everything was so overstimulating. The music, the loud chatter, it was too much. Why did I even come here? It was stupid to listen to Katia, I should have just stayed back in my dorm. Everyone seemed to be having a great time, but I wasn’t.

Then I saw the familiar sandy brown hair at the entrance to the tavern. Zachariah. Chiara in tow with him, as I made eye contact with my ex. His face looked as if he saw a ghost, and quickly pulled her to the other side of the bar.

“Allie, what the fuck?” Sawyer was the first to speak up.

“Yeah isn’t that your boyfriend?” Xaden offered a glare towards the shorter man across the crowded room.

“Was her boyfriend,” Katia sneered. “Two timing piece of worthless—”

“Kati.” Drew gave her a look of warning.

“I still haven’t got to fulfill my promise.” She leaned back in the booth, crossing her arms. Xaden, who sat next to her, playfully shoved the side of her head.

“Pipe down, firecracker. You’re not going to do shit.” He smirked, as she swatted his hands away.

“Riorson, it was hair washing day.” She groaned. I rolled my eyes at her dramatics. At all my friend’s dramatics actually. I didn’t want to discuss the newly ended relationship tonight or have it made a big deal. But also I certainly wasn’t expecting Zach to show up with his new girlfriend to the tavern he knew my friends frequented at.

I felt a pair of eyes glance towards me from across the table, looking over I saw Garrick looking at me. His usual hardened look was replaced by a look of concern, his hazel orbs intently focusing on me. He cocked his head towards the back door, signaling me to join him outside. I followed him towards the door, once he got up, and into the cool evening air.

I didn't realize by now that I had tears threatening to escape until Garrick pulled me into his chest and wiped a tear from my cheek.

I had been so focused on lessons and training the past couple days, I hadn’t realized how much I bottled up trying to play it off. I was upset, frustrated, and beyond done.

“It’s okay,” he whispered as my shoulders began to shake from my quiet sobs.

Garrick had always been the one that I was closest to. He always somehow caught a glimpse of the ugly side of things in my relationship and was always conveniently there to pick up the pieces when Zach would storm off.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured against my hair.

Feedback is always appreciated, likes, and reblogs as well!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[the-s1lly-corner]

Down Time with the Creepypasta Guys

Another short thing to burn some time!! I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes :(!! Its v cold in my room rn and I'm shivering <\3

Slenderman;

Really, when the two of you have time together, with norhing to do, he mostly just goes along with whatever you want to do

Something tells me he'd much rather study and observe you, but I also feel like he'd join in whatever activity to humor you

Reading? Movies? Games? He won't turn you down if you ask politely

Dont expect him to go out in broad daylight with you, though

His favorite activities to do with you by far are reading, but he also enjoys slow dancing with you

Even just holding you and swaying is enough

Almost makes both of you forget he's a monster

Eyeless Jack;

Another one that's down with whatever you want to do

I feel like right off the bat Jack would want to stick with something simple, that doesn't take too much energy

If you bring something to his cabin that can play movies, he'll pull himself close to you and melt into your side

He may even sling an arm across your torso, if he feels confident enough that you won't freak out

Since I hc he lives out in the woods, he won't mind taking you around for a walk; as long as the weather isn't too bothersome and you don't run off and get hurt

Don't expect him to play games like tag with you

Laughing Jack;

Now this guy? Real funny guy

You two would probably get up to the stupidest shit tbh

He seems like the type to engage in friendly roast battles, not sure why

You two could spend hours poking fun at each other like this

Obviously you introduce him to comedy shows and skits, and generally show him things you find funny

If he wasn't an 8 foot tall clown he would LOVE to go to a fair or carnival with you, hell! He'd probably enjoy places like chuck e cheese

He seems the type to go bonkers over those places

Tim (Masky);

This is all assuming that you don't know about his whole proxy thing, since that's how I wrote the Christmas scenario a few days ago, so for the time being I'm sticking with that unless the prompt says otherwise!! So!!

Sleep

Lots and lots of sleep

He'll get red in the face if you bring it up, but he's a huge cuddlebug

Constantly holding some part of you during your nap sessions

Hand. Arm. Torso. Leg. Wrist. If he can get his hands on it, he's holding it

Will end up snuggling into you even if you two are sleeping on opposite sides of the bed

If you two really want to, you may go out and catch a movie, or go out to eat

Another thing you two often do is tend to the wounds that appear on his body when he's away... he seems to get stressed when he can't recall where they came from

Brian (Hoodie);

The park is probably his go to place to unwind

Watching clouds, feeding the birds, maybe walking along a trail or two

He wants to just.. chill, much like how Tim does, but he's far more willing to go outside than Tim

Though, he's not against staying in for the afternoon and doing a couples activity

He seems like the type to enjoy cooking and baking

Idk why

Matching aprons

Maybe he'll hug you from behind n guide your hands during it

Not to make you feel bad or that you're doing it wrong!!

He wants to be close to you, is all

And thars another one done!! Sorry if it's a little dry <\3 im trying to scrape my brain for ideas but I'm drawing blanks <\3

If there's any creepypastas you want me to add to my base list let me know!! If I'm comfy with adding them I'll add them!!

[nananarc]

Gonna disclose my income as a freelance artist because I feel like it might give some perspective. And mostly bc I'm feeling a bit burnout and I want pity points ok? Lol.

Context 1: For sake of simplicity, all figures are net income (minused all fees, charges, insurance, benefits, etc)

Context 2: I live in a big city in Việt Nam and the cost of living is relatively low. A salary of 1000$/month is considered really good for someone living alone with one pet, no family or children, no debt or other liabilities. Entry level jobs usually start at around 200-300$/month.

.

Let's start in 2021 because that's when it can be considered when I started doing art professionally.

In 2021 and 2022, I was juggling between art school, a part-time online side gig, building social media for my art, and of course try to get commissions. But coms were few and far between, mainly because I didn't have an online present before and I only hang in relatively small fandoms. So all I earn through side gig and art were only some change, in total avarage to about 40$/ month. Some months made up for no income months.

In 2023, things starts to be a bit better as I get more confident in my skill, but coms are still few and far between and months with no income is still common. Side gig was few and far between too and pay less. Overall I'd say it goes up to about 80$/month.

This year 2024, art school is done, I can finally do art full time. But I was severely burnout because all the accumulated stress since waaaaay before catch up with me and i couldn't cope anymore. I have to spend a lot of time resting instead. Fortunately, I received a decent amount of coms each month, and the new patreon surprisingly got a few supporters (I fully realistically expected it to sit at 0 for at least a year). Overall, I have an 8 hours 4 days work week: 4 hours a day on com and managing social media and other stuff that actually makes money; 4 hours a day on my own projects and personal indulgence that doesn't directly make money. As of now, my income is about 180$/month.

.

You are probably wondering how the fuck do one live like this in this economy.

It's because my family is middle class and can afford a freeloader like me in their house, receive their pocket money and tuition fee. I'm privileged.

But of course my family isn't rich and if just one catastrophic event happens to us, we'd be in bad shit. I'm constantly in anxiety of money, work, and the future. It doesn't help that I'm late 20s and many people around keep reminding of how I'm not making money yet still leeching off parents. It doesn't help that, for years all i hear about art is it will just lead to failure and no money.

.

But still, I am thankful of my family for letting me stay here. And all my friends and supporters for giving me money oc lol, but more importantly, believing in me more than I ever do in myself. I read all of your little tags, your keysmash and compliments, and I keep them all dear to my heart, and I went back to them everytime I need motivation. I can't see where my future as an artist will be, but I cling to your support and love as the will to keep going. Thank you all so, so fucking much. I'd have been literally dead in a ditch somewhere without you guys.

Anyway, idk, I've always been adamant about wage transparency (especially in a corporate setting) but I rarely see this in freelance artists. except to flex, to promote the hustle culture, or to sell some courses they made. Most of us don't want/can't subscribe to the grind and have nothing to flex either. All we have is this shit economy. I'd wish we could have been more open about this and many of us wouldn't have to feel so lonely and despair all the time.

[fanficwriterlover]

Safe With A Ghost

18+ Readers Only

Chapter 8: Home at Last

Summary: Price and Soap, do everything in their power to get back to Simon, everything was counting on them to get him home, hoping you'd hold yourself together until they got him home....

Expectations: Simon ghost Riley x f!reader, emotional, slight angst, etc. (Tissues on Standby Recommended)

Pet-Names: Pigeon & Little Lamb

Word Count: 2.6k

════ ⋆Safe With A Ghost MasterList⋆ ════

═════════ ⋆Chapter 9⋆ ═════════

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a long painful, two hour flight, Soap and Price finally landed at the base where they last landed. Immediately Price and Soap gathered their gears approaching a waiting humvee for them. Price looked at his watch as they got closer to the vehicle "Alright...Ghost sent me his location, he's at best 40 minutes from here. Let's move Sargent." Soap nodded his head hopping into the passenger seat "Aye, let's go get our LT." Price put the key in the ignition, getting it into drive, and flooring the pedal. Flying by the gates at this base, they were on the main road. Price gripped the steering wheel all he could think about was getting Ghost back with his family. After everything he and Simon been through, they were as close to brothers as one would consider. He remembered the day Simon and you even asked him to be the god child to your newborn~

After many hours of contractions and labor, finally their son came into the picture. He was in the crib in the hospital room, one which you had the nurses change three times because the roller was too loud, too rough, or smelled. Finally settling on the fourth crib the nurses quickly bustled out to get your guests to meet your baby. Simon couldn't help but snicker at your mood, being pregnant and after birth your hormones were truly everywhere. He was wearing his balaclava still, in a black Tshirt and jeans sitting in the sofa chair near your bed "Wow Pigeon, still got some fire in ya huh ?" You gave him a warning look as he raises his arms in surrender "Take it easy Pigeon." He stood up walking over to your bed, the whole birth he stood at your side holding your hand and looking into your eyes, he grabs your hand gently, which now you were no longer squeezing it tightly. Which he learned your grip strength was a lot stronger than he anticipated for such small delicate fingers. He lifts his mask up to his nose leaning closer "You did good tho love" you smile tiredly, you rested a bit already but the ordeal was still lingering "Thanks for holding on the whole time, glad you're not like other men who faint at the sight" you smirk at him as he blushed, he did during the moment take a glance and instantly regretted looking seeing the child's head. Killing seemed less gorey than seeing someone he loves go through such pain to bring life. He kisses you gently, which you indulge back, until a big burst of the rooms door flew up.

You look to the direction of the door hearing Simon grumble near your ear as you couldn't help but stifle a giggle. It was of course the 141 team. They all had come obviously to see the baby, Simon pulled himself away lowering his mask as Soap grinned "Aye, we interrupting something ?" He nudges Gaz to join in but Gaz was to eager to see the baby "I mean, gee LT, she just had your kid, don't get that excited now" you blushed, and you could already imagine Simon blushing under his mask but he simply snap back "Keep it shut McTavish" he glares at the Scottish man who shrugs it off walking over to your side "You look like shit lass, respectfully" you mumble softly "Feel like it, what happens when you push out a giant" this earns a chuckle from the group. Price was already leaning over looking at your sleeping child, he then looks your direction "Did good kid, that's one healthy big baby" you smile nodding your head "Emphasise on big" you smirk a bit as he chuckles "Aye, that he is. May I?" He indicates if he can hold the baby which you nod your head, Gaz seemed far too eager as well to hold the child too but it only felt right Price hold your son first. He helped you a lot and even made sure Simon reached out to you during the mission. He cradled the little one in his arms gently rocking "He's a cute little bugger...you all think of a name yet ?" He asks softly, one which neither you or Simon answered he seemed to have understood but then you spoke "Price, there's something I wish to ask you" he looks up at you curiously "What is it little lamb ?" Simon moves back over to the side of your bed, hands in his pocket, he then looks down at you as you glance at him his eyes giving you approval as you look back at Price "Would you be our son's Godfather ?" It was a question Price never would have thought he'd be asked. Not only did he swear to both you and Simon for both each other's safety now you both were entrusting him with your son. It touched his heart, but more so that Simon trusted him to be the person to raise their son if something happened to them. He smiled "Of course, I'd be honored."

Remembering that day clearly, Price had made many promises. But to a family, his own family and friends, he'd give his life to make sure Simon got home to you and his son. Driving like a mad man down the road they were drawing closer to Ghost's location that he had sent. Right now they were getting no assistance from Laswell since this was an off the record job. Soap broke the silence "You think LT, beaten up pretty bad Capt. ? " Price grips the steering wheel, he could hear Ghosts grunts through the phone call, he definitely had some pain inflicted onto him, especially given the length of his absence. He was however more curious who would keep him alive that long, and why ? "I'm sure he did Soap. Right now let's focus on just extracting him out of there without much issue aye ?" Soap nodded his head "Got that Capt." They were 15 minutes out from Ghost's location they just hoped they would be a smooth rescue.

Ghost was sitting in the chair hold his stomach, his stomach was definitely bruising and feeling the pain. He could tell from the blood loss he definitely was paler he didn't think he could function enough. A knock came at his door, he frowned a bit, he knew Price was on his way but it was far too quick. Sitting silently Ghost waited to hear any movement, as he grudgingly stood up, despite the pain, he walked lightly on his feet leaning against the door until hearing a bigger knock and a loud familiar Scottish accent "Aye LT. wake your arse up !" Ghost grumbled yet smiled at the familiar sound as he opened the door seeing Price and Soap, both of them seemed relieved to see him, until seeing his state Price frowned a bit "You aight Simon ?" Ghost grunted but the wince in his eyes gave him away. As Price looked to Soap who seemed to understand, grabbing his arm and hoisting him over his shoulder "Aye I got ya Lt, let's get you out of this shit hole" Price smirked at Ghost as he grumbled "About fuckin time-"

Over a week later...

You were drinking some tea late in the afternoon, Gaz had decided to take Colton out to go shopping for some supplies. Which you allowed, your son needed to socialize a bit, and luckily he had his uncle Gaz to look after his best interests. Some days were easier than others but today was really hitting you, because today of all days was the day Simon and you promised to never keep secrets from one another and when you saw his face. The moment replaying in your head was almost torturing. How you remembered gawking at his handsome face, until he kissed you. The way the cool air seemed to immediately turn hot from the passion. Everything from then, all those years ago...wasted. Simon was gone. You rubbed over your eyes, this was so hard living without him, knowing he wasn't coming back. Especially with his duplicate of a son, who started to remind you more and more of Simon. Oddly, crossing your mind, you realized you hadn't seen much of Soap or Price. In fact they haven't even come to visit, it's been almost three weeks since you've heard from either, and Gaz certainly was dodging your questions.-

"Gaz, where's Price and Johnny ?" He always seemed to jump when you asked this question almost like you are asking a touchy subject which made you all the more curious. Gaz was a horrible liar...was obvious he laughed it off awkwardly then say "They're at base of course !" You cocked your brow, as if that was a good enough reason eyeing him to make him break "They're just super busy y/n, I'm sure they'll reach back out in no time ! Don't sweat your pretty mind on that." Tilting your head as if inspecting him "Gaz....what are you hiding from me ?" He seemed offended "I'd never ! I am just as much in the dark as you are !" You didn't buy that for a second. Even when you pried at him for more answers he'd still unwaver, it was infuriating.

You grumbled at the thought that everyone has been keeping you in the dark so long as a knock on the door snapped you out of your glare. Frowning a bit you thought was weird considering Gaz never usually knocked. He'd enter and shout it's him, so who else could it possibly be ? You set you tea down as you get up from the couch, walking over to the front door, you heard another knock almost as if you couldn't hear the first as you say "I hear ya, I'm coming..." when you opened the door, you're met with a big mohawk man grinning at you. "oh Johnny, it's you, where you been these weeks !" He gives you a big hug as you return it, Price standing at his side, as he was giving you a smile, with something else glistening in his eye tears ? You're surprised by this energy, it felt almost, uncertainty you didn't know what to feel studying their faces then asking "Is something wrong ?" Soap looks to Price then Price sighs out gripping his vest "Not at all little lamb, just been working to bring him back" they both step aside, and you didn't even notice the other figure behind them, but not just any figure...a man wearing a familiar skull mask, black shirt, and jeans. You were shaking, your body frozen in the spot. It seemed like Soap and Price vanished from your line of sight only focusing on the figure approaching you slowly. Your voice seemed to have vanished and your brain didn't seem to want to function, the only thing it mustered up was tears. The man was now in front of you, silent, his scent, it smelled so familiar, your eyes looking into his as his back to yours. It was deafening, then the most British, deep voice you missed to hear so long pulled you from your trance filling your ears, "Hey Pigeon...." Your mouth was apparently gaped open as you were fumbling on words now "What...how... you're...." It was racing you felt like you were going to have a panic attack, which the man you seemed to know but couldn't quite believe gently grabs you on your shoulder "Y/n, look at me, breathe slowly, lovie" his commands seem to soothe you, your eyes were frantic, slightly blurry from the tears wanting to stream down "S-Simon..."

Hearing your beautiful voice say his name, made his heart thump harder, he missed the sound of your voice. Everything...he couldn't believe it had been over a month since he has been gone almost dead. He never thought he'd have the opportunity to see you again, yet here he was at our home, in front of you in his grasp. "Yea...it's me Pigeon" in that moment you lunged yourself into his chest, as you buried your face into him crying out more, he cradled you gentle rubbing the back of your head as he could hear you muffling "You're alive..." Before sobbing more as he lets out a soft chuckle "Doubted me ?" You playfully hit his chest as it got a soft laugh from you. Everything about you washed over him, your scent, how small you were in his arms, your warmth, the sounds you made. Everything....it was something he never realized he'd miss. You broke away from the hug touching his masked face looking into his eyes with blurry tears, he couldn't help but smile, seeing the relief and love you had for him made him remember what held him together this whole time. You. "I can't believe you're here !"

You smiled more, your genuine smile, it was overwhelming as Simon nodded his head "It's thanks to Price. He found me. Got me home" you look in Price's direction as he holds his hands up "I did nothing. Simon you got yourself out of there. You fought to come home. I just made the bridge." You couldn't help but smile, the amount of relief and hope you held onto for so long that Simon would be alive really paid off as he was looking at you. Both of you could hear Price and Soap walk away giving you two space, as Simon reached up removing his mask. The man you loved for so long, and missed, his beautiful adorned scar face, tustled dirty cropped blonde hair and brown eyes bore into you. He leaned closer to your face as you did the same as he spoke near your lips "I missed you y/n" you smile gently crying more touching his cheek "I missed you too Simon" with that, sealing the pain and almost doubt if this was a dream, Simon crashed his lips onto yours, engulfing you into bliss a moment that made this day even more special besides the fact it was the day you two promised one another but also marks the day you two reunited again. The two of you didn't know how long you were holding each other, but it was then you noticed another car pull up, one you knew, as Simon looked in the direction of the vehicle, almost tensing at the sight. You gently give a squeeze on his arm reassuring him as you smile up at him, blinking away your tears "Someone will be happy to see you-"

He cocked his brow somewhat confused by that as he watched Gaz get out of the car, then go to the side of behind the passenger seat, you rubbed his arm gently, soothing him, as Simon realized who Gaz was grabbing. His son, Colton. He was more bubbly, and there was more strands of his blonde hair over his scalp since the last time he saw him. Gaz approached the two of you, holding your son in his arms as he nods his head at Simon "Someone's missed ya L.T" in that moment, Colton was already reaching for him, laughing excitedly with his wide eyes, Simon reached for him grabbing him, and pulling him onto his chest. Colton began patting his masked face touching his cheeks, Simon never cried, but there were tears welling in his eyes at the sight of his son. It was this moment he knew, he was home at last. With you at his side, Colton in his arms, and his team around him. This was the family Simon never expected but was grateful to have.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for Reading !

As adorable as an ending this is...I'm afraid my dear readers we are not finished, there's more to come and DON'T worry ! It'll be worth it !

ꨄ︎Taglist: @jadama20 @lunamoons-posts @babygirl-panda19 @kat-nee @marshallowy @bi-witch-bxtch @unit-1021 @wwe1rdc0re @crazy-phan-girl13 @v3rnom @niss2mpm

[youmakemyhearthowl]

Punk Princess

Ao3| Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5 | Part 6| Part 7| Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10| Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 (Next Part)

Hello and welcome to the story that I most would like to finish, It's been a while friends, and I have missed all of you. I'm going to go ahead and get this chapter uploaded now, it was written way back in January, when things started to go a little south for me in life, but I figured I could give you guy's this, while I work on making sure I can keep giving you this story in the most authentic way. So here's to you guys, and this shorter Chapter that I never got to release because life kicked me in the face. The next one I'm able to release, I want to be longer but I needed a 'fresh start' to keep telling this story and that meant getting this part out for you all to enjoy. And I really hope you enjoy. thank you for sticking around, and for being so understanding. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I hope I can keep bringing these boys to life for you soon<3

Steve had been on dates in the past, so he’s not really sure why he’s freaking out so hard to Robin while he’s getting ready. He knows how to do this, he used to be the king of doing this.

But it feels like so much more this time. 

Like life or death.

Which is so silly because Steve’s faced life or death before, and it was nothing like this. But god the panic he’s feeling is so all consuming at the moment he barely registers Robin's hands coming up to grasp his face, and squish his cheeks between them.

“I’m gonna need you to breathe, Dingus.” Steve lets out a soft whine when he registers her words, his eyes focusing on her soft smile. “What’s got you so panicked about this, Steve? You’ve been on dates before, and you already did the hard part of asking him out.” Steve brings his hands up to cup around hers and sighs, deflating completely. 

“What if like, what if he wants or-or expects more on the date? Like I know I’m a bit of a slut Rob’s, I own that shit, but, I’ve- I don’t know, what if that’s all he wants, like everyone else I’ve tried to be with? Like, I didn’t really have the best time with- with the hook ups when I was still figuring out my sexuality, you know?  And Eddie’s important, like so important and I just, fuck I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.” Robin squishes his face a little more as he talks, and his words come out a bit distorted. 

“Steve.”

“Yea I know, it’s dumb.” He casts his eyes to the side as she lets his face go. Hands sliding down his neck and arms till she’s holding his.

“It’s not dumb. But Steve don’t you want more on this date? I mean you’ve been talking about sitting on his dick for months now.” Steve groans, leaning forward to rest his forehead on hers taking a deep breath. 

“This is- Rob’s, I’m like, pretty sure I’m in love with the guy. I don’t think I’d survive if this was just a physical thing.” One of her hands releases his and comes up to flick his ear.

“So tell him that dumbass. You guys promised to communicate with each other, So do that.”

And just like that, a lot of that panic that was gripping his throat dissipates, a soft laugh bubbling up in his throat, because she’s right. Of course she’s right, she’s Robin. But that promise is literally the whole building block of his and Eddies relationship. That promise of Steve communicating, and Eddie taking the time to listen and vise versa. It’s what makes what they have now work.  

Steve leans forward and plants a kiss on Robin's nose that has her scrunching it at him. 

“What would I do without you, Robs?”

“Perish.”

“Fair enough”

~~

Steve has no idea why he was so nervous, walking through the woods with Eddie towards their date destination. Them- this, it’s easy. 

“Stevie, baby, light of my dreary life. You said drive-in movie, not fucking hike for an hour in the woods movie.” Steve laughs, glancing over to Eddie before reaching out and grabbing his hand, placing a swift kiss to his knuckles.

“It’s been like 10 minutes Eddie, and we’re almost there anyways.” Eddie shoots him a playful glare, yanking on their intertwined hands so Steve stumbles towards him slightly.

“Pretty sure you said that like, 3 hours ago.” Steve laughs, groaning and bumping his shoulder into Eddies.  Glancing sideways at him through his bangs, a soft swoop warming his lower stomach. 

“Eddie.”

“Steve.”

“Ed’s.”

“Stevie.”

“Edward.”

“Babygirl?”

Steve kinda short circuits at that, stumbling slightly and shooting a playful glare at Eddie, who's walking next to him with a self satisfied grin taking over his whole face.Steve can feel his blush deepening as he stares at him.

“You��re a little shit.” Steve finally settles on saying, glancing in front of them to make sure they are going in the right direction.  He doesn’t think he’s stopped smiling since the date started, and his face kind of hurts, but he’s so glad he was able to push past his worries and do this. All of this for Eddie. He can smell the food he cooked every now and then, when Eddie swings the picnic basket just right and he’s excited to get Eddie’s opinion on the Chicken Parm he’d made for them. 

Eddie squeezes Steve's hand gently, pulling his attention back over to him, and the smile Steve is met with is blinding. 

“So, what’s with the trek through the woods for a drive-in movie? You secretly a murderer?” Steve snorts so hard at the question he stumbles a bit, Eddie uses the hand he’s still holding to pull him back. “It’s a valid question, Princess. You’re a little bit lethal, and a whole lot hot while doing it.” Steve feels a chill go down his spine slightly at the words, flashes of Demodogs dancing past his eyelids, Billy’s fists mingling with the images. He almost wants to say ‘Yes cause I have to be.” But he holds his tongue, and flashes a cheeky grin in Eddie's direction.

“I’m not gonna murder you. Although if you show anyone where I’m taking you, I might.” He scratches at the back of his neck a bit. “It’s uh- it’s a special place I stumbled upon last year, when I couldn’t sleep one night. It was old and falling apart when I found it, but I’ve fixed it up good as new.” He glances over at Eddie again, seeing him nodding along as Steve talks, soft smile on his lips.” It’s high enough up that it’s got the perfect view of the Drive-in through the trees.” Eddie stops walking at that, using where they are still attached to pull Steve to a halt as well.

“Steeeeve,” He draws out the e’ in a whine, “you’re making me hike and climb?” He’s got his lip pouted as he looks at Steve, and Steve really can’t fight off the blooming warmth in his chest staring at the man in front of him.

“It’s up a ladder Ed’s, It won’t be too bad.”

“I agree on one condition.”

“That is?”

“You climb me afterwards.” Steve barks out a surprised laugh at that, and he can feel a warm blush spreading up his chest to his cheeks, Eddie smirks over at him. 

“I’m beginning to think you have no filter.” Steve muses aloud, knocking gently on a tree trunk as he passes it. 

“Beginning? Stevie, baby, beginning?” Eddie’s still got that smirk on his face as he uses a tree trunk to spin around and get closer to his space. Steve huffs out a laugh, using his pointer finger to push Eddie back by his nose as he glances around the woods trying to spot his marker on a tree he knows is near by. His eyes light up when they land on the soft blue cloth blowing in the wind. 

“Come on, the tree house is over here.” He can physically feel Eddie perk up at the words.

“Treehouse! Stevie, you have a secret treehouse out here?” Eddie stumbles over his shoe laces as he works to catch up to him, and he laughs. God when was the last time he laughed this much? And Just as he’s about to start climbing the ladder Eddies grasping his shoulder and spinning him around, pushing his back up against it and pressing his chest flush against him. There’s a mischievous twinkle in Eddie’s eyes as Steve looks at him questioningly, and Eddie leans in, his nose brushing along Steve's cheek. 

“You really look good enough to eat in that outfit Steve, and if I have to climb up this ladder behind you, neither of us are going to get to taste this meal you made us or see the movie.” Steve shivers at the purr in Eddie's voice as he leans even closer, lips ghosting over Steve’s ear. “So what do you say I do first pretty boy, before I just push you up against this ladder and take you right here.”

Steve suppresses a groan, leaning his head back against the ladder and arching himself more into Eddie, who’s hands come out and brace his hips.

“Down boy, I want to at least get to sample what my baby spent all morning cooking for me.” He laughs softly, planting a wet kiss to Steve’s cheek and shuffling him out of the way to start up the ladder, and if Steve has to take a second to readjust his pants before following him, that's between him and the trees. 

Ao3| Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5 | Part 6| Part 7| Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10| Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 (Next Part)

@zerokrox-blog @manda-panda-monium @funnymagicman-named-dandy @feministfandomgeek @bejeweledbaby @phantypurple @redfreckledwolf @classicdinosaurdeathpose @grimmfitzz @lavender-butterfly-rock @maya-custodios-dionach @stevesoli @vampireinthesun @stevesbipanic @thatbitchgayasf @adaed5 @mo0nc4lf @steveisabicon @steddie-as-he-goes @definitely-notacrow @assholeachilleus @th3-r4t-k1ng @prettyboyandthemetalhead @allyricas @she-is-tim @freddykicksasses @homosexual-having-tea @counting-dollars-counting-stars @lilarosebabe @thev01dd

[compassionatereminders]

hi kat just wanted to vent a little if that ok. i started this new job at the end of last year and like i like what i do mostly and i do my job well etc but bc im not super talkative (i do the normal chit chat but i dont go out of my way to talk about random stuff while i have work to do) ik the other workers talk shit behind my back and just last week one of them turned to me and said 'dont be offended but it seems like whenever u see people u want to groan, like ur tired of spending 8 hours with us' and he said it laughing but its like it made me feel bad. i try hard to do small talk and all the normal social expectation things but im still failing and what sucks worse is that theres another coworker whos always messing up (which is fine honestly who cares) but they like her a lot more bc shes v talkative and extroverted i just wish it was enough to just do my job u know

I hate when people take introversion and social struggles as a deliberate personal attack. Some people just think socializing is hard! That doesn't make them bad people deserving of exclusion!

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Make Me Forget

Winter Whumperland 2022: Day 8. Unexpected Kindness Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader, former Bob x reader

Summary: Soon after a tragedy strikes, Jake finds you at his door late one night. Will he do what he has always dreamt of and you are now begging him for? Or will he find the strength to do what is right?

Word Count: 4300

TW: Emotional Angst, Grief, Death of a Loved One, Main Character Death, Tears, Drunk Reader makes bad decisions, Intoxicated Kiss, Tattoo

Notes: Thank you to @lorecraft and @green-socks for talking me through this and their support! I love you guys!

Sequel to No Laughing Matter but can also be read as a stand-alone piece.

As Jake poured his third glass of bourbon of the night, he was starting to regret not taking Coyote up on his offer to go to the movies with him and his new girlfriend. There wasn’t anything interesting playing, but it would have been nice to take his mind off of things and just mindlessly watch some robots blow some shit up or whatever for two and a half hours. But instead, he was sitting alone in a dimly lit room with only his drink for company. Not his smartest idea, but he just didn’t know how to act around his best friend at the moment.

For the past eight months, Jake had been on an extended medical leave back in Texas after he was injured in a training exercise. The break was actually doing him a lot of good. He had forgotten what it felt like to not have to try to be the best all the time. For the first time since joining the Naval Academy straight out of high school, he let himself relax and didn’t worry about how he compared to those around him. He stopped cutting his hair and grew a beard, both things he was never allowed to do while on active duty. It felt like he had control over everything in his life for once. That was until he had gotten the phone call.

Which was how he found himself staying in this rental house back in California a month before he was to be cleared for active duty. Though they had kept in contact through texts and emails, he hadn’t expected to be in person with the entire Dagger Squad again this soon. Or at least…. almost the entire squad.

Downing the rest of his glass of bourbon, he reached for the bottle to pour another when a knock on his door drew his attention. At almost one a.m., he had no idea who it could be. Only a few people even knew where he was staying, and he had made it clear he wanted to be left alone tonight.

Throwing the door open, Jake inhaled sharply as he saw the last person he expected standing just outside. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, hello to you too, Jake. You sure know how to make a girl feel wanted.”

“No, I’m sorry. I was just surprised to see you here. Especially this late.”

Neither of you spoke for a long moment, each just staring at the other. Jake hadn’t seen you since the service a few days ago but you looked even worse than you had then. Your hair was a mess, your lipstick was smudged, and your eyes looked sunken and bloodshot. It wouldn’t surprise Jake if he learned you hadn’t slept more than a few hours over the last few days. Not that he would have blamed you. 

Finally, you broke the silence and asked, “You gonna make me keep standing out here, or are you gonna let me in?”

 “Oh, right, sorry.” Jake held the door open wider as you pushed past him into the house. “How’d you get here? You didn’t drive, did you?”

You scoffed. “No. Do you really think I’m that irresponsible? Phoenix put me in a car after she made me leave the bar. The guy was driving past and I remembered you were staying here while you were in town.” You stumbled slightly as you walked around the small space examining the decor. It was clear why Phoenix sent you home for the night, though Jake was surprised she hadn’t insisted on going with you.

You spotted the still-open bottle of bourbon sitting on the table and grabbed at it, almost knocking it off the table. Without even trying to look for a glass, you pressed it to your lips and took a long swig. You grimaced as you swallowed yet raised the bottle for a second drink, but Jake placed his hand on your wrist before you could.

He gently eased the bottle out of your hand and set it back down. Running his hand lightly up and down your arm, he asked, “Not that it isn’t great to see you and all, but whatcha doing here, sweetheart? It’s late and it looks like you’ve already had an exciting night. Maybe you should just be heading home. I can drive you.” He reconsidered as he remembered the three glasses of bourbon he had drank that night. “Well, I can make sure you get home safely.”

“I don’t wanna go home,” you muttered faintly as you ran your fingers through the few drops of bourbon that had fallen onto the table. “I came here for you. I want you to do what you said…. last year in the bar.”

Jake’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember what you might be talking about. “I say a lot of things. You wanna give me a hint which one you’re talking about?”

Awkwardly removing your jacket and letting it fall to the floor behind you, you took a step closer causing Jake to step back so you didn’t bump into his chest. “You said one night was all it would take. That after one night with you, I would forget his name. I’m here so you can help me forget.”

Jake felt all the blood drain from his face as he realized what you were talking about. The night in the Hard Deck when he had gotten very drunk and tried to fight Bob. Not that it had been much of a fight considering Bob had laid him out with a single punch, but Jake had still felt awful about it. He apologized to both you and Bob the next day and it seemed like that night had been pretty much forgotten by everyone involved. But he guessed he was wrong….

Jake placed his hands on your now bare shoulders. “Sweetheart, you know I didn’t mean that. It was a stupid, drunken mistake that–”

“You meant it.” Your tone wasn’t harsh or accusing, just matter-of-fact. You took yet another step closer. “You’ve wanted me since the first day we met, don’t deny it. And you can try to brush off all your comments as teasing but I saw the look in your eye when you made them. You meant every word. But that’s okay. Because tonight, I’m giving you exactly what you’ve always wanted.”

You slammed your lips against Jake’s, catching him by surprise as you pushed him back against the wall. Your hands threaded through his long locks, grabbing hold and using them to pull him even deeper into your lips. Jake could taste the strong sting of alcohol on your breath as your tongue slipped clumsily into his mouth and he froze, unsure of what to do.

For just a second, he considered it. He had dreamt about you often since the day Bob introduced you, and they were always the sort of dreams where he couldn’t look Bob in the eye for a few hours afterward. Yet he had resigned himself to the fact that even if you and Bob ever broke up, you weren’t the kind of girl to go for someone like him. So this, this kiss, this chance, it was more than he ever hoped for.

And yet the second you slid your knee up to rub against the growing bulge in his pants, he snapped out of it. Grabbing your wrists, he gently untangled your hands from his hair and eased you off of him. Your eyes darted across his face, so desperate and confused as to why he pulled away that he almost lost his resolve and pressed his lips against yours once more.

Panting slightly, he whispered, “We can’t do this. I–I can’t do this.”

“Why not? It’s what you always wanted.”

“I can’t,” Jake whispered again, shaking his head.

Running your thumb over his cheek, tears began to roll down your face as you whispered back, “Yes, you can. It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s gone, Jake. He’s gone, and I’m falling apart without him. I just need someone right now. I need you. I need you to take me back into the bedroom and do what you’ve always wanted, just…. just make me forget. Please. Just for tonight. I just need this pain to go away for just one goddamn night.”

You leaned forward again but he shifted slightly so instead of your lips meeting, your foreheads did. Pressing firmly against you, Jake closed his eyes and took several long, deep breaths before he muttered, “Please don’t ask me again. I’m not a good enough man to deny you a third time. You’re right, I’ve always wanted you. I still want you. But not like this. We both deserve better than that.” Jake opened his eyes and stared directly into yours. “He deserves better than that.”

You jerked your head back as if he had slapped you, rapidly blinking in shock. Releasing him, you stumbled back from the wall, turning your back to him. When you finally faced him once more, Jake could tell some of the alcohol-induced fog had lifted. Tears were streaming down your face more quickly now and your bottom lip was quivering so hard, he could almost hear your teeth chattering.

Wrapping your arms across your chest, you sobbed, “What am I doing? He’s been gone for only a little over a week and I’m already throwing myself at one of his best friends.” 

Jake wasn’t sure if you were just being hyperbolic in the heat of the moment, but hearing you call him “one of his best friends” caused a knot to form in Jake’s chest. But he ignored his own pain and tried to gather you into his arms, “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

You struggled to free yourself from his embrace. “No, it’s not! I promised him I’d never do something like this. That he was the only one I ever wanted to be with. And now…. Now I almost–” Another wailing sob ripped through you, cutting off the rest of your words. 

Jake didn’t know what to do. In fact, he’d been having a harder time than expected dealing with what happened. As unrealistic as it was, Jake couldn’t help but wonder if things would have been different if he had been back from leave and flying with the squad. Maybe he could have provided cover for Phoenix and Bob’s plane. Maybe that lucky bullet from the enemy wouldn’t have broken through the canopy and struck Bob in the neck. Maybe then he wouldn’t have bled out before Phoenix could even land the plane.

But all the what-ifs and could-have-been’s in the world wouldn’t change the fact that Bob was dead, and you were currently falling apart in Jake’s arms. However, where Jake might not have been there to help Bob then, he damn sure was going to do everything in his power to help you now.

“Sweetheart, look at me. Look at me!” You stopped struggling and gazed helplessly into Jake’s eyes. “I can’t be your Band-Aid to try to stop the pain, but you did nothing wrong tonight. It was only just a kiss and even if it had gone farther, you wouldn’t have been breaking any promises to him. Even in marriage, these things are only ‘til death do us part’, right? You held up your end of the bargain and he would understand. He would want you to be happy.”

 “But I’m not! How am I ever supposed to be happy again when Bob is gone! We had our whole lives planned out together. He was going to propose and leave the Navy after his next tour so we could start a family. But now it’s all gone and I don’t know what to do.” 

All of the fight suddenly went out of you, and you collapsed limply into Jake’s arms. Holding you tightly, Jake slowly sank to the floor and pulled you into his lap. Balling your fists into his shirt, you clung to him frantically as your body was wracked with sobs. There was nothing Jake could do but hold you tight and remind you that you weren’t alone.

After what seemed like hours, your sobs softened into sniffles before you eventually fell silent. Finally, you whispered, “Jake, how do I do this? It’s just too big. How do I deal with it?”

He took a deep breath and held it for a second before slowly releasing it. “I honestly don’t know. I guess you just take it one day at a time. It’s the best any of us can do. But you’re not alone. Let your friends help you through this.”

“Is that what we are, Jake? Friends?”

“I’d like to think so.” There was a moment of silence before Jake asked, “Why did you really come here tonight? To me. Was it just because you were driving by or….”

“You weren’t supposed to be this noble,” you chuckled dryly. “I thought out of everyone… Coyote has his new girlfriend, Fanboy and Payback can barely look at me right now, and Rooster’s been glued to Phoenix’s side all week. She’s trying to be strong for me but I know how much she is hurting too and he’s really helped her deal with things. So, that left you. And with your reputation and your little thing for me, I thought it was a full-proof plan. I guess I underestimated you. I’m sorry.”

“No, I guess that’s fair. You were right when you said I wanted you and that there was some truth behind my jokes and teasing. But I hope you know I would never have actually done anything. I wouldn’t have done that to Bob.”

You smiled softly as you linked your fingers with his before squeezing his hand. “I know. And so did he. He never minded your flirting because he said he knew at the end of the day you would never actually try it or make a move. And that I would never try anything either. So he just ignored it.” You shook your head softly. “God, how could someone have been so good?”

“I don’t know.” Jake wiped a tear off your cheek. “But he loved you so much. You were all he ever talked about when we were on a mission, just getting back to you. And Phoenix says your name was the last thing he said before…”

“She told me. I just wish I had been able to say goodbye.” Your voice broke and Jake pulled you tightly against his chest as your tears began to fall once more.

But they didn’t last very long. All of your crying must have taken a lot out of you because as your sobs began to dwindle and fade, Jake felt you slowly sagging in his arms. When he glanced down, he saw your eyes drooping further and further. The tears, alcohol, and late hour of night were all catching up to you and it wouldn’t be long before you had passed out completely.

Jake carefully helped get you to your feet before rising off the floor himself. His legs were numb from the way he was sitting, but he tried his best to ignore the sensation as he led you toward the bedroom.

“Where are we goin’?” you mumbled sleepily, your head leaning against his shoulder as he guided you.

“It’s late and I think it’s best if you stay here tonight. You can take my room and I’ll stay out on the couch. That way you can have the bed and a door with a lock if you want it.”

You chuckled softly without lifting your head. “Jake, I literally tried to force myself onto you tonight, and you turned me down. I think I can trust you not to sneak into the room while I’m sleeping.”

“True, but whatever makes you the most comfortable.” 

He helped you climb into bed and covered you with his blanket. Almost immediately, your eyes fluttered closed and your breathing slowed. For just a moment, Jake stood there watching you sleep. You looked so relaxed and peaceful, that he wondered what you were dreaming about. It probably involved a blue-eyed, glasses-wearing WSO, or at least, he hoped it did. 

Leaning over, Jake softly pressed his lips to the top of your head as he whispered, “Good night, sweetheart.”

Then he quietly backed out of the room and went to try to make the couch as comfortable as possible.

The sound of the front door clicking shut woke Jake the next morning. After raising his head slightly and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he saw a note and a still-steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of him. Sitting up, he brought the coffee to his lips as he read the note. It was short and sweet: Thanks for what you did…. and didn’t do.

Jake didn’t hear anything from you after that. He tried to text a few times, but you never responded. He talked to Phoenix so at least he knew you had made it home okay after you left his place, but that was all the information she would give him. 

Days went by and he was just starting to think that he would never see or hear from you again when a knock sounded at his front door. And just like a few nights earlier, he opened it to see you standing there.

This time, you looked more like the you he remembered from before Bob’s death. The bags under your eyes weren’t as pronounced, your clothes looked more put together, and when you smiled at him as he opened the door, there was actually some light in your eyes. “Hey.”

“Hey….” he said as he leaned heavily on the door. “I’ve been thinking about you. How are you?”

“Um, better, I think. Still not good, and I don’t even know if I’ll ever be good again, but I guess progress is progress. Just taking it one day at a time, right?”

He smiled. “Yeah. One day at a time.”

There was a long pause before you said, “You really don’t like inviting me in, do you?”

“Oh! Sorry. Come in.” Jake stepped to the side, allowing you to pass by him, your arm lightly brushing his chest as you did. Once you were inside, he closed the door and asked, “So, uh, what can I do for you, sweetheart?”

With your back to him, you said, “I wanted to thank you for the other night. I wasn’t in a good place and I had been drinking and I made some bad decisions. And while I’m still not in a good place, now that I’m sober I’m mortified about said decisions. But the way you handled it….” You turned to face him, your lip quivering slightly. “Honestly, Jake, I don’t know how I would have ever forgiven myself if I woke up the next morning and realized we had gone through with it. Just thinking about it makes me physically ill.”

“Damn. I don’t think I would have been that bad in bed,” Jake scoffed, but he gave you a wide grin to let you know he was joking.

You smiled softly. “I’m sure you would have been exceptional. And I have no doubt that you could have lived up to your promise of making me forget everyone and everything but you in that moment.” Your face fell. “But after, when I did remember,…. It would have destroyed me. And I’m not saying I’ll never sleep with anyone ever again, but doing it that night– for that reason– would have felt like such a betrayal to Bob’s memory. So thank you for stopping me. I’m sure it wasn’t an easy decision to make.”

Jake ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I won’t lie and say part of me doesn’t regret not going through with it just a little bit, but overall I’m also glad it didn’t happen. When you feel like it’s time to take that step, you have every right to sleep with whoever you want and you’ll have nothing to feel guilty for. But I agree that night wasn’t the best time for it.”

“No, it wasn’t.” You shifted slightly as you looked at the floor. “I, uh, I was having an extra hard time that night because the Navy finally gave me a box of Bob’s stuff and I found a receipt where he had put a down payment on a ring.”

Inhaling sharply, Jake said, “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. We had talked about it a lot and I knew he was going to propose soon, I just wasn’t expecting that soon. It just made me think about all of the plans we had made that won’t ever happen now and…. I tried to drink the pain away but when that didn’t happen, I turned to you. It’s not an excuse for why I did what I did, but I thought you should have a little more context for why it happened.”

“No context needed. You got drunk and tried to sleep with the first available person you found. Who hasn’t been there?” You reached out and took his hand, giving it a small squeeze of thanks. The shift in your position drew Jake’s attention to something he hadn’t noticed before. He nodded towards the gauze poking out of the bottom of your shirt sleeve. “Didya do something to your arm?” 

A soft smile spread across your lips as you glanced down at the floor. “I did, actually. I thought a lot about the other night and you made me realize that no matter how painful it is, I never want to forget Bob…. ever. I love him and I will always love him and I don’t want to forget a second of our time together or what he means to me. So, I found a way to keep a constant reminder of that with me always.”

Slowly, you rolled up your sleeve and unwrapped the gauze from your arm, revealing a vibrant tattoo underneath that hadn’t been there the other night. It was a heart made out of a thin branch or vine covered with leaves and small, five-petal blue flowers accented with yellow centers. It was a delicate design that perfectly fit the curvature of your arm.

“Wow. That looks amazing. Remind me to ask for your guy’s number if I ever decide to get more ink.”

Jake reached out to touch the design but hesitated as you whispered, “They’re forget-me-nots.”

He glanced at your face which was still smiling though he could see a hint of moisture collecting in your eyes. When you gave him a small nod, he let his fingers gently graze the tender skin of your freshly inked arm. It was only then that he noticed the small, faint lettering on the stem at the bottom of the heart: BOB. 

Running his thumb over the letters, Jake said, “He would’ve loved this.”

“I think he would’ve too.” You ran your finger over one of the flowers as you gazed at it lovingly. Then you dropped your hand as you cleared your throat. “So, how much longer are you in town?”

Jake straightened up, removing his hand from your arm. “Just a few more days. I should be getting my medical clearance at the end of the month so I need to go home and make sure everything is in order for me to return to active duty.”

“That’s sort of a shame. I think your time on leave has been good for you.”

Jake frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You’re…. different. Like, it’s not just the longer hair and the beard– both of which look really great on you by the way– but it’s your attitude and how you hold yourself. Plus I don’t think the old Jake would have ever done what you did the other night.”

“Yeah, well, then maybe this new Jake is just an idiot. He’d have to be to ever push you away.”

“Not an idiot. Just a better man than people give him credit for.” Leaning over, you lightly pressed your lips to his cheek. 

Jake felt his heart leap in his chest and it took everything in him not to turn his head and capture your lips with his. But you were right, he had changed. The old Jake probably would have kissed you, yet now….

Clearing his throat as you took a step back, he asked, “What do you think you’ll do now?”

Sighing, you said, “I don’t know. Without Bob, I don’t really have a reason to stay in California. My parents want me to move back near them so I have a familial support system around and I’m considering it. I think a change would be good for me.”

“Apparently, it did wonders for me,” Jake teased. “But whatever you decide, I’m always here if you need anything, anything at all. You have my number.” 

Reaching out, you placed your hand on his arm and gave it a light squeeze. “Thank you. I’ll remember that. And good luck going back to work. Be safe up there.”

You dropped your hand and started to walk out of the door. When you were halfway down the steps, Jake called out, “Hey… Maybe one day in the future if you decide it’s time to move on with someone new, you look me up.”

Glancing back towards the door, you gave him a small, reserved smile. “Maybe…. One day. Goodbye, Jake.” Then you turned and soon disappeared from view. 

Taglist:@nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996, @luckyladycreator2, @valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog,  @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter , @sugarcoated-lame, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @blue-aconite, @thescarletknight2014, @jamesbuckyburns, @a-sweet-little-fangirl, @happyblogstuff, @randomlifeunit, @boringusername3, @lclove2012-blog, @3tabbiesandalab, @back-tooo-black, @supernaturaldawning, @thestagsheadsblog