#i am 4 days late but there are asks in here months and months old so...

[heathcliffgirl1847]

if you could draw me a maedhros im a lil bit sad i will love you forever

he is making sure everyone remembers their dance choreography to convince convince fingolfin and feanor to let fingon sleep over

[gracieheartspedro]

Your Needs, My Needs

I : Strawberry Wine

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

the prelude to this series

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: joel fixes your toilet but you can't help but yearn for more time with him. so you invite him to dinner and try to win his stomach? aka love?

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, reader does have anxiety/mental illness that is not fully recognized/diagnosed, mentions of eating food, reader lives alone, reader got MONEYYYY, mentions of joel's ex wife (gasp), alcohol consumption, smoking cigarettes, kissing, flirting. all the fluffy stuff <3

author's note: hey...hey.... how y'all doing?? i'm so so so sorry this has taken so long. my life has been crazy for the last like 4 months and I'm finally getting settled into my life again. I miss y'all and I miss writing, so HERE I AM! I'm hoping everyone who wanted me to tag them months ago is still cool with me tagging them 4 months later lol. okay, lemme know what you think xoxo

Joel comes and goes for days. The first day he returns, he inspects your toilet again and tells you he has the wrong tools. You discuss a game plan and by his initial projections, your toilet should be fixed the next day. But when he fails to come by in the morning, you decide to call the phone number on the post-it note he left for you the day before. 

The phone rings and you get an answering machine of a younger girl telling you to leave her and Dad a message after the beep. When the line lets out a long ding, you breathe out the random croak in your throat. 

“Uh, hey, Joel, it’s me. Just seeing if you’re stopping by today. If not, that’s fine, I’ll be home all day today and tomorrow. Okay, uh, bye.”

Hours go by and you find yourself pacing, regretting your decision to leave him a message. What if he gets it and thinks that you’re crazy? 

Ever since you had made his acquaintance, you felt completely reliant on interacting with him. It may be due to the fact that you haven’t socialized with anyone else in months. You were very good at isolating yourself, but lately, it’s been eating you alive being so alone. Now that you had this big house, the silence felt almost too quiet. Joel’s southern drawl and straightforward responses gave a bit of light back to your life. 

Around dinner time, your landline rings. You practically fall over your couch racing to pick it up, hoping it was him. 

“Howdy neighbor,” He grunts through the phone, “Sorry I didn’t come by today, hope ya didn’t miss me too much.”

You let out a dry laugh, trying not to sound too giddy about him following up with you. You were borderline pathetic. 

“No, I just wanted to make sure you were still alive,” You manage to get out, “You are still alive right?”

“Still kickin’, just busy as all get out. ‘M fixin’ to head to your place now if you’re not busy.”

You look down at your pajamas and start to nod. It’s not like he can see you through the phone, but you are reacting to his words like he’s right in front of you. 

“Sure thing, I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

-

“So… It’s really just you here? All by your lonesome?”

He’s messing with his toolbox, searching for the one tool he needs to fix the toilet. You stir your fresh brewed tea, ensuring none of the sugar clumps up at the bottom of the mug. You had offered him some, but he politely declined, telling you that he had a big dinner.

You take a sip, testing the sweetness. “Just me. How about you? Just you and your daughter, right?”

He laughs heartedly, turning towards you from where he’s squatted. You look at him with curious eyes, unsure if you asked the wrong question. He stands up, a wrench in his hand, a smile still spread across his face. 

“Her mama left town with her new boyfriend about 5 years ago. Wanted the city life, not the life I gave her. It’s been just me and her ever since.”

So he’s single. You think to yourself. 

You realize the laugh was probably because of how absurd and new it must be for someone to ask him about his life. He grew up here and you are positive everyone here already knew all about his business. You are a breath of fresh air for him. 

Before the silence becomes awkward, you speak up. “City life ain’t worth a shit.”

“Yeah, she’s different. Won’t speak ill of her ‘cause that’s my bosses’ mama. She sees her now and again. They are just very different.” 

The conversation comes easy with Joel. While the first couple of interactions you two shared were a bit strained, after days of small talk, you realize he’s the truest Southern gentleman you’ve ever interacted with. Polite with a little bite. He never speaks ill of others, except his brother. He loves to pick on Tommy. He seems like an attentive father. He loves to pick at you, always pointing out your Northern tendencies. Your horrible driving. Your accent and your speech patterns. But he’s also very complimentary. A couple of days ago, he remarked how nice your perfume was when you were standing close to him. It made your heart skip a beat. 

And on top of all of those things, he’s very easy on the eyes. 

“That’s mighty fine of you not speaking ill of your ex,” You try to drag out the silly Southern saying, which causes him to chuckle again. You smack your lips before continuing, “Wish I could do the same.”

You are not sure what he’s doing to the tank of your toilet, but you watch him strain to get a piece out of the corner with the wrench he has. He clenches his teeth, turning the piece to the left to loosen it. 

“Exes are exes for a reason,” He grunts, fiddling with some more things in the tank, “I ain’t too hung up on datin’ right now. I got my girl and my horses.”

“And now you got me, your annoying neighbor who almost crashes into your horses and asks you to fix toilets.”

He breathes out loudly, “Yeah, ‘nother pain in my ass. Just what a man needs.”

-

The toilet is fixed too quickly. You had busied yourself with other small cleaning tasks that when Joel finds you in the kitchen doing dishes, he startles you. It took him about 15 minutes to finish the job and you had thought you could at least finish up the dishes you made from dinner. 

“‘M all finished up. Gotta get back home to do some rounds at the stables,” He says as he waltzes over to your paper towel holder. He grabs a sheet and begins to wipe his damp hands, “Anythin’ else for me today?”

You turn off the running water, going down a list of fixes you could ask him to do. You decide it’s probably best to just ask him to swing by another day to help you with other things. 

“No, thank you though, Joel. I am sure I’ll be by to ask for more help,” You chuckle, shaking your hands dry, “I owe you dinner or something.”

As you say it, it feels like all the air leaves your lungs. He’s staring at you and there’s a glint in his eyes. You are not that good at reading people, mostly because you are deathly afraid of being wrong. His eyebrows raise as he leans against the counter near you. He’s so close and in your space, but you try to push the thought of him coming onto you out of your mind. 

“What’do you got on the menu tomorrow?”

His voice is kind of husky which makes your brain draw a blank. You wipe your hands on your pants before crossing the kitchen to check your fridge. You glance through your ingredients, settling for the only dinner item you can conjure up that his southern palette may like. 

“Baked chicken and vegetables?”

He nods, tossing his paper towel into the bin beside you. “Yeah, I've been needing a home-cooked meal. Think I could come over at like 5? Tomorrow?”

You recollect a time when a guy showed interest in wanting to hang out with you outside of work. It had been years and he was not nearly as attractive as the man in front of you. 

You nod slowly, trying not to look too robotic due to your nerves. “Sure thing, cowboy.”

-

You did not know what to wear. You contemplated going into town to see what the local boutiques had but you ran the risk of Joel seeing you out. You didn’t even know if this was a date. 

You settle on a sundress you have owned since high school. It’s the perfect length and while your mind goes to wanting to impress Joel, you also need to be comfortable. 

You cleaned your house, adding some new decorations to your living room walls. You even clean your sheets and make sure your bedroom is vacuumed. 

When the time comes for Joel to arrive, you pace the kitchen anticipating the doorbell. You already had all the food prepped and ready to put in the oven. The vegetables have been cut and seasoned. Everything was just the way you needed it to be. 

Joel gets there 5 after your scheduled time. When you welcome him at the door, his hair is styled and you can tell he put on his “fancy jeans”. 

What you didn’t expect was the bouquet of flowers he had in his hands. 

“Afternoon, neighbor,” He begins before extending the floral arrangement towards you, “My girl said I had to bring you something nice. Somethin’ bout being a gentleman.”

You smile widely, giving flowers all your attention. Even with the fragrant bouquet, you get a whiff of his sandalwood cologne. 

“Nice to see you cleaned up for me, cowboy. Come on in, dinner is about to get put in the oven.”

-

You catch him scanning you up and down when you place the spread of chicken and vegetables on the table. He was in the midst of talking about his daughter and her band fundraiser, but he completely halted when you took notice of his staring. 

You settle into the dining room chair across from him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t. 

“She needs more sponsors?” You break the silence, wanting to move away from the sudden awkwardness. 

He swallows, reaching for the serving fork, “Oh, yeah. She needs to reach a certain goal to go on her senior band trip.”

You try to avoid his wandering gaze again, focusing on organizing your plate of vegetables. “Where are they going?”

“Disney. She ain’t never been out of Texas, so she really wants to go.”

You remember all the trips your family said they’d go on to Disney, but they never did. Your father could not stand being around his own children, let alone other people’s children. You think about how he used to complain about your constant questions, all the times he completely ignored you for your brother. You start to spiral, the anxiety creeping up in the back of your throat. You push your chair out from under the table, excusing yourself for a moment. You go to the bar you have set up in the living room and grab the only sweet wine you have. Strawberry. You grab two glasses from the top of the setup and walk back to Joel. 

“Forgot wine,” you mumble, setting a glass in front of him, “You want some?”

He is already picking at his chicken, “Yeah, I’ll take some.”

You are quiet as you uncork it expertly, pouring it into each of the glasses. Joel watches you like a hawk. You can tell he’s trying to read your expression, so you try your best to remain neutral even though your hands are shaking. 

You place the bottle in the middle of the table, making sure it’s easily reachable. 

You finally sit back down, sipping the red liquid. The strawberry flavor isn’t very strong, it’s more like a hint of the berry. You had gotten the bottle from a roadside stand in Kentucky. An older lady who must have owned a vineyard nearby was selling them for $5 each. You told yourself you would only use it for a special occasion. This event seemed fitting. 

Wine always makes you flushed, but you are always a bit flushed around Joel. Even more so when he’s watching you so intently. 

After a couple of sips, you finally rest your shoulders and begin to eat your dinner. 

“I could sponsor her,” you finally say, returning to the previous conversation. For some reason, you felt obligated. Joel quickly retaliates, shaking his head as he chewed on your roasted veggies. 

“You ain’t gotta do that, doll.” 

The nickname rings in your ears. You take another sip of wine. You can tell Joel notices your reaction because he smirks with his mouth full. 

“But I want to, Joel. I’m sure she has worked hard her high school career, she deserves to have fun.”

He hums, but still shakes his head negatively, “I can’t let you just pay for-”

“You can and you will,” You enjoy another bite, smirking at your defiance towards him. He looks perplexed. “So when is this fundraiser? Is there like a dinner or something?”

He finally caves, “This Friday at the school. It’s a dinner and auction. I guess if the kids don’t find their sponsors, some local businesses are willing to sponsor them.”

“Are you going?”

“Yeah,” He cuts up his chicken, “I guess you’re gonna come along, too, if you’re givin’ my girl all that money.”

“Does a check work?”

He sits back in his chair, already finishing off his wine, “You seriously don’t have to-”

“What are neighbors for, Joel?”

He nods, “You mean friends.”

You furrow your brows, trying to let your hazy mind find a time when you called him your friend. This was a new development.

“Friends, huh?”

He pours more in his glass, “Well, I’d like to think so.”

The wine is hitting your system and you realize your arms feel lighter. You grab the stem of your glass and tip it up to down the rest of the alcohol. Joel’s eyes are trained on you, waiting for a snarky response. 

“Do friends stare at other friends like that?” You pour more wine for yourself. You realize he’s done eating so before he can respond to your flirtation, you speak up again, “You done with that?”

He looks down at his empty plate, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Yes friends look at other friends like that, or you’re done eating.”

He grins, “‘m done eating, doll.”

-

You two find your way out to the rocking chairs. They were left there by the previous owners and you could tell they were probably as old as you. 

You had another full glass of wine, sipping it as Joel lit up a cigarette. He admitted it was only a bad habit when he was drinking, which was rare. “Sarah gets onto me when I have even one beer. So this has gotta be between us two.”

You swirl the crystal, watching him carefully take a drag of the stick. “Your secret is safe with me, cowboy.”

He giggles as he lets out a huff of smoke. “I haven’t had secrets in a long time. Guess I’m lucky it’s with the town stranger.”

The statement hits you in the very pit of your settling tummy. You furrow your eyebrows, leaning forward towards him. Your chairs are not that far away from one another, so this is probably the closest you have ever been to him except for that one moment in the kitchen. 

“Luckiest man in Texas that’s for sure,” You muster, averting your eyes. You could not stare into his beautiful brown eyes for too long. “Having the privilege of getting me out of my head. No man has done that in years.”

“What? You not good at letting loose?”

You shake your head, knowing that he did not understand what you meant. You take a moment to inhale, finally glancing up at him again. “I think I may just be cursed.”

“Now, why do you say that?”

You contemplate spilling the beans. Letting your heart fall onto your sleeve after years of shielding it from anyone who looks your way. Your lips part, but no words come out. It’s just the sounds of the cicadas. 

“As soon as something is good, it gets bad somehow. I don’t even get a moment to savor it.”

You feel the statement down to your bones. The last time you felt settled in your own life, the rug got pulled out from under you. You cannot remember a time when you truly felt present in a special moment. You always felt like you were floating outside of your body, watching things happen and never really truly feeling anything. 

You don’t expect him to lean closer to you, “Whatever happened before you got here, you ain’t gotta worry about it anymore. You obviously put distance between you and what happened for a reason. Let this little side of the world be your home now.”

You push your spiraling thoughts away, letting him be right. 

“I’m workin’ on getting settled. It’s easy when you have a handsome cowboy to help along the way.”

It comes out like word vomit. Between the wine and the nerves coursing through your entire being, you can’t help but admit your little crush on the man. You slap your free hand over your forehead, admitting defeat before he can even respond. You knew he would take the comment and run with it.

“You always flirt with your friends, sweetheart?” He was toying with you, which was a good sign. If he wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t call you such a thing. 

You smile, releasing your face from your hand. His eyes are tracing every curve of your face, a subtle pass that you did not capture quickly enough. 

“Only ones that fix my toilets.”

And then, he kisses you. It happens so quickly, that you don’t fully grasp that it’s happening until you're molding your lips into his. Once your buzzed brain picks up the fact that the man you have been crushing on is kissing you, he pulls away. Your eyes are still closed, your hands still gripping onto your wine glass. 

He huffs loudly and stands up quickly. Once you place your eyes on him, he’s pacing around the back deck stairs, not too far from where you’re sitting. You instantly bite back the urge to ask him what’s wrong, because there’s always something wrong. 

“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I should’na done that.”

He instantly regretted it. The thought made your throat tighten. He continues to walk back and forth, causing a draft. 

“It’s fine, Joel. I’m n-not mad.”

He shakes his head, halting his robot-like movements. He finally looks at your pitiful expression and lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think I’m much of a gentleman, kissing you on the first date.”

You watch as he places his hands on his hips, contemplating his whole life right before your eyes. You realize he is too traditional to see that nowadays, people are sleeping together on the first date. First base is nothing. You rest your glass on a decrepit table next to you and stand up. 

You slowly approach him, trying to catch a glance from him, but he continues to avert his eyes. You grow bold enough to tilt his chin towards you, letting your guard down for a moment. 

“You’re such a gentleman, it hurts,” you whisper, slowly letting a smirk grow across your face. The comment makes his shoulders lower, finally relaxing from such a heated moment. 

“Just don’t wanna mess this up with ya,” He murmurs, only letting you and the nearby fireflies hear you, “I enjoy spending time with you.”

You slowly lower your hand to your side, trying to act casually about the confession. But the truth is you want to run and wake up every cow and horse within a 10-mile radius with a squeal of delight. 

“I like spending time with you, too, Joel.”

He takes your hand as you say it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips. His breath is hot on the back of your hand before he says, “Well now, I quite like the sound of that."

taglist (some of y'all can't be tagged, I tried lol)

@midnightdragonzero @casssiopeia @anoverwhelmingdin @notsosecretspy @raindrcpsangel @art-estrange @misstokyo7love @lizzie-cakes @d1lf-loverrr @ashleyfilm 

@blckbrrybasket @cande-beggins @gloryekaterina @lilyevanstan1325 @frogtape @jamesdeerest @mellymbee @arrowsandanchor @polishedtaylor @harrieandharassed @ranahx @youwouldntdownloadapizza @jmillersgirl @wintersquirrel @stefanibear003 @joliettes @startsm00n @abbsfrommars @76bookworm76 @youotterbekiddingme @jodiswiftle

[starry-bi-sky]

Snippets for my Clone^2 Au that I thought was funny...

in incorrect quotes style format (Clone^2 = Both my Clone Damian Au and Clone Bruce Danny aus combined)

Snippet 1: Danny and Damian meeting for the first time

Danny, avoiding Damian's katana: I don't wanna know who made you I don't wanna know who made you I don't wanna know who made you Danny: pleASE STOP TRYING TO STAB ME

------- Snippet 2: Danny and Damian meeting (Alternative)

Bby Damian: gets dropped off in the ONE city where his dad's clone is Danny, internally: damn I don't wanna know who made you

Danny: alright little buddy, lets -- *blocks Damian's sword* please don't stab me -- let's get you something to -- *blocks Damian's sword* please don't stab me -- something to EAT

------------- Snippet 3: Danny checking out books in the library Librarian: oh, are you trying to learn arabic, Mister Fenton?

Danny: oh- uh, yeah :) my parents recently,,, took in a foster kid from overseas,,,, but we found out he doesn't know english and he's having a hard time adjusting Danny, lying (only partially) through his teeth: so I,,, thought,,, maybe it would help him acclimate to his new environment if I learned some arabic :) Librarian: oh how sweet! let me know if you need any help, i can find you more books Danny: thank you

----------

Snippet 4: Damian wants to patrol Damian: let me come with you on patrol Danny, 16 year old idiot who fights without powers: uh. no. you are Itty Bitty Child Damian: comes with anyways

----------- Snippet 5: Damian, trying to fight a ghost without a ghost-proof sword: Danny, catching him and holding him against his chest: *radiating exhaustion* no,,,, no,,,,, not yet,,,,

-------- Snippet 6: danny has an epiphany Danny, realizing that he needs to set an example now that Damian is coming with him on patrol: fUCK Danny: I NEED AN ACTUAL SUIT ---------- Snippet 7; dynamic duo Danny: what is it with you and batman and robin???? Damian, silently sweating: ,,,,,,,because they are exemplary partners and i would like to think that us two are the same Danny, doesnt know identities: ...aww??? thats kinda sweet??? okay :)

---------- Snippet 8: hypocrite Damian: dijaal (affectionate) Danny, on day ?? of solving a cold case after a ghost asked him to: hrbhk - Damian, what are you doing up? it's late, you have school in the morning Damian, staring at him deadpan: you have school too. you should go to bed Danny: five min..utes buddy. then i'll go to bed Damian, grabbing the back of his rolling chair and pushing him to bed: no. now. danny, with eyebags the size of the marianna trench: ...fine. now.

--------- Snippet 9: ...the line Danny, doing homework with Sam and Tucker: Danny: *has an epiphany* wait. shit Tucker and Sam: ...? Danny, his head in his hands: am I Damian's dad or his brother?? Danny: wh- what do we define this??? Tucker: ... you're brothers until its funny? and then you're his dad?

----------- Snippet 10: learning Danny: reading a book about learning arabic Damian, slamming his hand down on the book to get his attention: dijaal, *points to book* kitab Danny, frowning: what? Damian, tapping book: kitab Danny: ..ki..kitab? Kitab? Book? Damian: Boog...book. *points to table* tawila --------- Snippet 11: clone reveal Damian, later after he knows enough english and months of chilling out: i am a clone.... meant to kill my original Danny, internally: wow you don't say? Danny, out loud:..huh. okay. thanks for telling me, uh, same here. except that last part

---

Dijaal = imposter Damian is affectionately calling Danny an imposter because danny is a clone of bruce :)

[chrisevansonly]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: starting a family was yours and charles’s dream, and welcoming little baby matteo hervé leclerc was the absolute best day of your lives, and the start of a new future as a family of 3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of pregnancy, hospitals and childbirth & lots n lots of fluff

𝐚/𝐧: well she’s here the first chapter of Little Karter! i’m so excited to write this little series and i really am excited to share the ideas i have with it! i hope you all enjoy it<;3

𝐰𝐜: 1.5k+

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

For as long as you could remember and as long as you had been with Charles, there was never a doubt in either of your minds when it came to having a family. You’d always  wanted kids and so had Charles, so when the day had come that you found out you were expecting, it was a day you would forever remember. Nothing about trying for a baby comes easy, it doesn’t help that still to this day most books and movies fail to highlight that. It took you and Charles almost three years to conceive your now 4-year-old son Matteo, it was a lot of tears, pain and trial and error until that very morning you took the test. 

▸

Time moved slow as you stood in front of Charles, the three tests you had taken in his hands, tears lining your eyes.

“Ne me mens pas..bébé, s’il te plait”

Charles was on the verge of losing it, his eyes glossing over as he start at you with such a yearning and adoration, you had never seen anything like it 

“I promise my love…”

“Holy shit!”

He was quick to pull you into his chest, his arms holding you tight to him, tears hitting your neck as you held onto one another, A moment that would forever cement itself into memory, there was nothing that could top the reaction and love you felt and saw that day. 

“We did it Char”

Pulling back he took your face in his hands, bringing you in for a kiss, a tearful smile on his face when he pulled away 

“We did it baby”

▸

Charles had been nothing short of amazing throughout your pregnancy, from doctors appointments, to late night cravings and sitting at your side as you experienced the worst morning sickness throughout the first trimester. If you needed him he was there, he made that extremely clear to you as well as Ferrari. Letting them know if you needed him he would be there, racing was his passion, but you were his heart, and he would drop anything for you, all you ever needed to do was ask. 

He was adamant about this from day one. 

You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your lips as you watched him pick out baby boy’s first outfit, you had gotten to the hospital almost five hours ago, your water breaking, thankfully enough on the summer break so Charles was already at home with you. He was so excited to become a father, you could not wait to see him flourish into his new role.

“Char he won’t know what he’s wearing…”

He turned to smile at you. 

“I know baby but-I just want it to be perfect for him, I want everything to be perfect for you too”

“It already is my love, you’ve done so much for me the past nine months, you’ve taken such great care of me...”

A pause fell over the room, Charles placing a little white onesie with red cars on it down onto the change table across from your bed, moving to sit next to you, his hands grabbing yours gently. 

“I love you, I would do anything for you, and I’ll keep taking care of you, both of you.”

Leaning down he kissed you, rubbing your cheek ever so softly when he notices a stray tear that had begun to roll down your skin. No further words needed to be exchanged, Charles could see it in your eyes just how much you loved and adored him, and right now that was more than enough for him.

Thankfully you managed to get some more rest not long after, Charles keeping his eye on you diligently, he was too excited and anxious to rest, despite his mother being adamant that he gets his sleep now. As soon as a baby comes along it becomes much harder to get your beauty sleep, but you’d never hear a parent complain, especially not Charles, this was what he’d been dreaming for, and he was sure if his father was still around he would be so proud of him. 

It wasn’t until seven pm, that you were dilatated to ten centimetres and could start pushing, it was a pain no one could prepare you for, and a pain that was way worse than you had ever imagined 

“Tout va bein, ma belle…tu es si forte”

“Ça fait mal Char…cant-“

Charles shook his head, moving to be closer as he swiped a cool cloth across your forehead

“I know, I know it does but he’s almost here…just a bit longer baby, I know you can do it”

He looked at you with fierce determination, he could see the exhaustion behind your eyes but you were so close to holding your little boy and it was with the next hard push and agony filled scream that his cries echoed through the room. Charles quick to kiss yours cheeks as he rested his forehead on yours, tears in both of your eyes 

“I’m so proud of you baby, you did it…he’s here”

The doctor was quick to place the crying baby onto your chest as you sniffled, your hands moving to hold onto him, he needed to be cleaned up still but this allowed you and Charles to connect with him right away

“Bonjour mon petit, tu es si parfait, papa t’aime déjà beaucoup” he said quietly, brining a hand up to wipe his eyes

“He’s so perfect Char…”

The nurses then came over and took him gently, allowing Charles to cut his umbilical chord before taking him over to weigh him and check him out, allowing Charles to come back to your side, a look in his eyes that was only reserved for you and your perfect baby boy 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you”

“Oh my love, you don’t need to thank me, I love you so much you never need to thank me for this”

He shook his head

“I do because-because you made me a father… it is all I have ever wanted”

Reaching your hand out to him he took it, kissing the back of it before sitting next to you, allowing you to then lean your head into him, waiting patiently for the nurses to bring your baby back. Of course it didn’t take them very long, wrapping him in a warm blanket and gently placing him into your arms, your eyes taking all of him in.

He was a tiny little baby, but in every way absolutely perfect, he had Charles’s nose and his hair, he was the spitting image of his father, a twin if you must

“Hi my angel…”

Charles watched you interact with your son, smiling as you traced his little cheek with your pinky finger

“You are your daddy’s twin aren’t you? Mhm..”

You couldn’t help but place a series of gentle kisses to his face, just enjoying holding him in your arms, watching as he had begun to move a little

“Char you ready to hold him..?”

A slight look of hesitation flashed across your husbands eyes, he’d been waiting nine months for this moment, so why was he so worried

“My love, you’ll be okay, I promise…you don’t do anything wrong”

“Yeah-um okay yes”

He was meticulously careful and slow in his movements as he lifted the baby from your chest, moving to sit down in the rocking chair next to the bed, he never imagined in a million years he would be holding his little boy in his arms. It was no surprise to you to see his emotions ramp up again as he placed a kiss to his forehead

“Tu es mon plus précieux trésor mon bébé”

“Il est tout à nous mon amour”

Sniffling Charles nodded, the baby sleeping soundly nice and tucked into his arm. You figured he would wake up eventually to eat but for now there was no greater sight than seeing your husband and baby boy cuddled up with one another.

“Welcome to the world little Matteo Hervé Leclerc”

rough english translations:

Ne me mens pas..bébé, s’il te plait - don’t lie to me baby, please

Tout va bein, ma belle…tu es si forte - everything is fine sweetheart (or my beautiful) you are so strong

Ça fait mal - it hurts

Bonjour mon petit, tu es si parfait, papa t’aime déjà beaucoup - hello little one, you are so perfect, daddy loves you so much already

Tu es mon plus précieux trésor mon bébé - you are my most precious gift (treasure) baby

Il est tout à nous mon amour - he is all ours my love

[helen-with-an-a]

The Object that stood in the way of a World Cup pt. 3

Hi. So here is part 3 (again, this will have another part because I am determined to get it happy at the end; it's just taking me a while to get there ahahah). Big thanks to @lyak12 for helping me work out my issues with the fic <3

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Epilogue

Ona Batlle x Reader

Flashbacks are in italics

TW: Injury, R ain't ok mentally, suggestiveness

Description: R comes home from Australia to start her recovery

Word Count: 3.6k

You had required three surgeries in total to fix everything – an emergency one to save your leg, one to place the screws and realign everything and one to reattach the ligaments in your knee. The damage the tackle had done was extensive; your shin was splintered into 3, some coming through the skin, and the force of the collision ruptured your ACL and meniscus ligament, too. No one dared show you the video, and you weren’t bothered to look it up. Even though you couldn’t remember what happened, you’d have the scars for life. You had asked what the timeline was for when you could get back on the pitch. One doctor had said it was an if not a when. You didn’t like that doctor. It would be a when – football was your lifeline, your escape when times were tough. You didn’t know how you would cope with it. Your physios at Barca had said that when … if … you were back on the pitch, your playing style would have to change. They had told you in broken English that you probably would never play the same and would have to rely on speed and technical ability rather than strength in matches. But that was ok; as long as you were on the pitch, you didn’t care how you had to play, just so long as you could.

You flew back to Barcelona a month after the World Cup. You wanted to be back earlier, but you hadn’t been cleared to fly and definitely hadn’t been cleared to fly halfway across the world. The medical staff in Australia were lovely – sneaking you extra desserts, cheering every milestone, no matter how small, braiding your hair, and helping apply your moisturiser when you were too tired to do it yourself. Your family had only seen you that first day. You didn’t mind – you didn’t particularly like when they were around anyway. It was always too loud with them. The bad kind of loud. The Lionesses were the good kind of loud. They had piled into your room, staying as long as possible. Georgia had left you with her Tamagotchi, making you promise her you’d try to keep it alive. Being suitably distracted by the mountain of sugary sweets piled on your bed by Hempo, much to the horror of Leah and Sarina, you missed the way Lucy eyed you wearily.

You considered Lucy a big sister, especially since moving to Barcelona. She had been concerned about you since you arrived. The happy, bubbly young woman she had come to care for deeply had retreated back into the quiet shell you had been when you first joined the senior squad. At first, she thought you were just nervous – she knew how scary it could be to be in a new city without many friends. But after a while, she knew it was something more sinister. She barely saw you outside of football; you were always making excuses to avoid team bonding or insisting you needed to stay late to work on things. Things you already excelled at. She grasped just how badly something was wrong with the first international camp of the new year. She thought you would return back to your old ways, finally being around your old friends and not having to navigate another language. But that wasn’t the case; if anything, you grew even quieter – especially around Alessia and Ella. That concerned her the most – you were closer than family to those two. They could always be relied on to drag a smile out of you. So, she kept an eye on you. Quietly observing your behaviour.

Whilst you hated that you weren’t back in Barcelona as quickly as you wanted to be, you were glad you didn’t have to see Ona again so quickly. That night was the last time you had seen her. You hadn’t said anything as she took a seat across from you. She hadn’t said anything as you started to drift into an uncomfortable slumber. Only when she was sure you were in a deep sleep did she break her silence.

“Mai podré dir-te com ho sento,” she whispered. “Sempre t'estimaré. Espero que algun dia em permetis estimar-te de la manera que et mereixes.”

“Oni, I can’t speak Catalan, remember? You’re going to have to repeat that in English.” You laughed as she chattered away. It was an off-day and oddly warm in Manchester. You lay with your head in her lap, top tucked up into your bra, exposing as much skin as possible in an effort to soak up the summer sun.

“Sorry, amor. I’m just happy it’s finally warm here. It reminds me of home a little bit.” She carded her fingers through your hair as you snuggled your face into her stomach.

“Tell me about it?” You asked gently. You loved hearing the stories of her home, her childhood, her life back in Spain.

“There’s this little cafetería back home. It sells the best Crema Catalana ever. I don’t know what they do, but, mmmm ... es tan delicioso. It’s even better than my Mamí’s. It’s so pretty too. It’s got this really cool tiled pattern flooring and vines on the wall at the front. During the summer, they open all the doors and play music and …” You could listen to Ona talk all day; the excitement when she mentions her home is unparalleled. You could feel yourself drifting into sleep – the warm weather, her gentle fingers scratching at your scalp, her intoxicating smell that wrapped around you like a soft hug.

“Mmmm,” you hummed happily. "It sounds fantastic. I wish I could visit,” you commented.

“You shall. I’ll take you. You’ll come to see my home, we’ll do all the touristy things in Barcelona, and then I’ll show you all the local spots in Vilassar de Mar, prometo,” She vowed.

“Good. I …” you cut yourself off with a yawn, “I don’t want to see Barcelona without you.” Your eyes fluttered gently.

“You won’t. I won’t let you. You’re stuck with me for life, amor.” You smiled softly at her words. You liked the sound of being with Ona for life. “Ve a dormir, amor. I’ll be here when you wake up.” You nodded and allowed yourself to slip into a gentle dream.

Arriving home, it was easier to avoid Ona than you thought. You were still on strict instructions to rest. Alexia had tried to force you to stay with her. When that failed, Lucy had tried. You liked your space. You liked your private time. You felt like you could never fully relax around people … except for around Ona - that voice in your head reminded you. No! You couldn’t allow that voice to win. You had a recovery to think of now. You had compromised a little bit, though. You lived in the same building as Ingrid and Mapi, so you gave them permission to get a spare key cut. This allowed you to have people constantly checking on you without feeling like a burden on them. Alexia wanted a key for herself, but she lived on the other side of town, and you didn’t like dragging her so far from her usual daily routine.

To be honest, you were unsure if you wanted to see Ona. Alessia had quietly told you that you wouldn’t calm down on the pitch until Ona held you. In the extra month you were in Australia, you had come to terms with the fact you were still in love with her. You had tried to deny it when you initially came to Spain. But now it was just a fact you had to live with. That night in the hospital was so incredibly awkward … strange … nice. She had stood in a training top you were fairly sure was yours once upon a time, head hung low as she picked at her nails. You wanted to bat her hands away, to tell her to stop, but she had sat too far and out of your reach.

“I’m telling you, Y/N, something’s wrong with Ona”, Hayley whispered to you in the bathroom. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but she won’t stop picking at her nails; she’s really quiet. Something’s not right. I think something may have happened during the break.” You sighed deeply. You also think something may have occurred whilst she was in Spain. You had picked her up from Manchester Airport, and you could tell instantly something wasn’t right. 3 of her fingers were wrapped in plasters, and the others looked just as sore. When you extended your arms out to hug her, she looked a little apprehensive but stepped into your embrace anyway. No matter how much you wanted to keep her in your arms, you stepped away after a few short seconds. You had never seen her so tired, so different, so … you weren’t quite sure what had happened. You kissed her forehead gently as you ushered her to the car.

It didn’t take long for you to find Ona – she was sitting in your cubby after all. Despite your concern, your heart couldn’t help but flutter as you recognised your number on the hoodie she was wearing.

“Me gustas en mi ropa,” You said as you crouched in front of her, hands resting gently on her knee. She didn’t smirk like she usually would. She didn’t react when you started tracing gentle shapes on her bare legs. She just kept picking at her nails. “Oni… lo que le pasó?” You asked in the gentlest tone imaginable. She just shook her head, wiping a stray tear away. “No … hey, hey, hey, no. Oni. Mi niña hermosa. Don’t cry.” You surged forward. “Please don’t cry.” You didn’t know how to comfort her. You had seen her angry, you had seen her scared, you had seen her frustrated. But you had never seen her cry before.

You had eventually coaxed her into going home. You had waited until everyone had left—Hayley hurrying people along to let you deal with the situation. The force with which she gripped your hand left a sour taste in your mouth. You had kept your hand in hers the whole journey home and into your flat. You led her to the sofa as you lay down, pulling her on top of you.

“Now …” You started, “I’m not going to make you talk to me. But I can tell something happened when you were in Spain. I want you to tell me, but I’m not going to force you. Whatever you want to share that’s entirely up to you. But please, Oni … I’m not going to judge you, or laugh at you, or hurt you for telling me anything. Un problema compartido es un problema dividido, right?” You whispered as your fingers slipped under her jumper.

It took a while, but eventually, she told you. You held her as she cried over the conditions in the Spanish camp. You held her as she recounted the story of her being forced from her bed at 5 in the morning for a run and not being allowed to stop until she threw up or passed out. You held her as she ranted about how mean the coaching staff were to Pina, and when she had stepped in to intervene, she had it twice as bad. You held her as she eventually slipped into a fitful reprieve from the nightmare she had just returned from.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake Ona’s voice from your head telling you, you weren’t could enough for Barca. If she thought that before your injury, what would she think about you now? You were looking at a year off the pitch, at least, let alone having to train in a new style and learn a new way of playing that could have you set back even further. It echoed in your mind before behind, when you looked at yourself in the mirror, when you were with the team as they tried to help you feel better.

Most days looked similar for you in the first month you returned. You were still in a cast and brace, so you couldn’t do much. The doctors - and Alexia - had told you how important it was to establish and stick to a routine. So, you did. You woke up at 8.30 every morning. There was training – you obviously couldn’t go, but since all your friends had that schedule to stick to, so did you. You would go into the bathroom and have a really awkward shower; more often than not, you would flood the bathroom, then get ready for the day. Lucy told you that you needed to change out of your pyjamas every day, so you slipped on loose shorts and a shirt – your ‘day pyjamas’ you had christened. You had breakfast with Ingrid and Mapi before they left for training, and then you sat on the couch. All day. With your mind slowly descending into chaos over everything that had happened. And then you would hear the conversations from outside that told you some of the girls were coming round to see you, and you plastered a smile on your face as you asked them about their day, and they would ask you about yours. On non-training days, you granted yourself a lie-in. Keira and Lucy would come by with pastries from the bakery down the round and fresh fruit for you to snack on. You would sometimes have a Lioness Facetime if everyone’s schedules allowed.

You had yet to go to a match or the training facility, watch a game on TV, or even just play Fifa. But that would come with time; you would have to go eventually because that was where the physios and trainers were. People thought you were reluctant to go because of what had happened. Which you were … a little bit. The main reason that made you nervous about going was Ona. A picture of her on your timeline had sent you into a spiral for a good few hours. You were scared of what seeing her in person would do.

You had seen the picture of her in the Champions League promotion. And she looked so good. You had stared for far too long at her beautiful smile that still took your breath away, her chiselled jawline that you used to pepper kisses across when you cuddled up against her, her veiny arms that had made you feel so safe and loved, her messy bun that you had jokingly begged her to teach you how to do, her freckled cheeks that would sport a soft pink hue every time you complimented her, the dimples you would poke at when she was trying to be angry at you but failing miserably.

“Great game today girls, you played fantastically. And well done to Ona.” You were standing next to her in the post-match huddle, she shyly groaned as her achievements were recognised in front of everyone.

“Mi Oni’s got her name on the score sheet,” You sang out as you walked back down the tunnel, arms wrapping around her waist. “We need to celebrate.” A round of cheers from everyone echoed the sentiment. Just as you were about to separate to go shower, you felt Ona squeeze you gently. “Hm?” You asked, scanning her features for discomfort.

“Could we do something … just us tonight?” As much as she loved the girls, she wanted a night with you. Alone. She looked so adorable as she quietly mumbled her desires to you.

“Absolutely we can,” your smile reassured her. You pressed your hands against her cheeks quickly before turning to head to the showers.

You didn’t even bother with an excuse when you messaged Lessi and Tooney.

Y/N: Sorry not coming tonight - other plans x

Tooney: Rude

Tooney: Do these other plans involve a Spanish defender???

Y/N: Maybe x

Y/N: She wanted to do something just us

Lessi: I want details! x

Y/N: Nothing’s going to happen

Y/N: U know we r just friends

Tooney: And I’m just friends with Joe :p

Y/N: Its just a MOVIE NIGHT x

Lessi: If u say so x

Tooney: stay safe x

Y/N: ffs and I do say so.

Y/N: text me when ur both home pls x

Lessi: Will do x

Your other plans involved very little deviation from your regular nights. She had cooked for you like always, serving up a delicious paella that had you begging her for cooking lessons. Over dinner, you relived her goal from your perspective and forced her to tell you what she was thinking when she sent it into the back of the net.

“Now that you’ve started scoring, you won’t stop. I’m telling you.” She had laughed at your promise. “I’m being serious here. We need to come up with a celebration for you.” She just hummed and kissed the top of your head as she gathered the plates and took them to the sink.

Later, you were lying on the sofa watching a Spanish movie she insisted on, telling you how it was a part of her childhood and she needed to share it with you. You weren’t paying any attention. You were far too distracted by her fingers running up your spine. It was driving you mad in the best way possible. Your ear was pressed against her chest, her heartbeat comforting and peaceful as you burrowed yourself deeper into her.

“Estás bien?” Ona asked, your movements catching her attention.

“Yeah.” You responded. “I’m really proud of you, you know that, right?” You shifted again, this time drawing yourself up to cage her in with your arms. The blush reappeared on her cheeks as you stared intently at her. God, she was so beautiful. “And I’m really happy you came to Manchester. You make everything better.” You told her honestly. She was getting overwhelmed. You could see that as she avoided your gaze. You gently poked the place where a dimple appeared when she smiled. “Oni …” you waited until she looked back at you. “Puedo besarte?” You said as you stared at her lips.

“Sí.” This wasn’t your first kiss, drunk or sober. But this time felt different. You couldn’t explain it. Her soft lips parted as you licked the seam of her mouth.

You continued to make out lazily on the sofa before Ona broke away for some much-needed air. You didn’t care, though. Your lips just moved to her neck – you were careful not to leave any marks, no matter how much you wanted to decorate the pale skin with dark splotches that claimed her as yours. She whimpered and whined underneath you until she was begging for more.

“Por favour. Do something. Anything. Necesito más,” she implored, hands tangling in your hair as you pulled away.

“Relajarse. Let me take care of you.” You sighed into her skin.

You're just a quick fuck. Easy. Nothing more to me. Her wicked words bounced around in your head. God, she had really ruined you. That was the first night you allowed yourself to truly feel everything, every emotion you had suppressed and bottled up for the last 9 months. It was painful. Raw. Terrifying.

At first, you were angry — so, so angry. Pure, unadulterated rage bubbled up and over the top of your carefully constructed walls. You threw a vase. It shattered into pieces like your heart had done all those months ago. It was satisfying, but you wanted more. You needed more. You ripped apart a cushion someone gave you as a housewarming present. You screamed and raged and shouted your emotions.

Then you cried. It started as a few lone drops that quickly became a torrent of unstoppable, hot tears. The sobbing hurt. It was painful and gut-wrenching. You had never cried like this before, and that scared you. These were the tears of someone heartbroken, and desperate. You cried so hard you thought you were about to throw up.

When you came to your senses, you were standing in the middle of the living room – how you got there was beyond you – feathers lightly floating around you, the wall had a slight dent, and someone was knocking frantically on your door. You didn’t move. If it was Ingrid or Mapi, they had a key. If it was Lucy or Alexia, they knew where to find the spare set. If it was anyone else, you didn’t want to see them.

Strong yet gentle arms pulled you to a warm body. The scent that engulfed you was soft and sweet. Alexia.

“Está bien, cariño. Let’s get you to bed, sí?” She was too gentle. Alexia didn’t do this kind of comfort. She offered practical solutions, honesty, and tough love.

“I… I’m scared,” You admitted as she helped you twist into bed.

“I know recovery can be scary, pequeña, but you will do it. It will be hard. But you can do it. Te lo prometo, puedes hacerlo. Everyone is going to help you. You can lean on us. We're here for you, bebita.” She was misunderstanding what you were referencing. You weren’t scared of recovery. You were physically healing well. A physio had been sent to your house from Barcelona to assess you at home to see whether you could start your rehabilitation at the club. She had asked you questions, and you had given the right answers. Your scars were healing well, and you had the expected range of motion for your injuries. Physically, you were right on track.

You were scared of your own mind. In the month you had been home alone, you had thought hard about anything. Ona had really broken you, yet you couldn’t let her go. What did that say about you? You had always thought you were stronger than that. You used to never understand what it was like when people would go back to an ex-partner who had broken their heart. Ona was never even officially yours, and she had managed to do so much damage.

This is becoming a lot more intense than I had planned ahahah. Hopefully, the next part will be out soon.

[ningningsdream]

[4:28AM] "i still love you, y/n. it was dumb of me to let you go.", ex! jeno pleaded as he stood on your doorstep at an ungodly hour in the night, "everything i see reminds me of you. i've tried to move on but i can't help myself comparing everyone with you. i miss you even when i'm in a room full of people to distract me.", jeno rambled, his rosy cheeks hinting that he was probably a little tipsy.

today would've been your fifth-year anniversary if you stayed together.

"i thought of you every single day for almost a whole year after we broke up.", you said, looking at him.

"me-"

"let me finish.", you interrupted him, holding your index up, "i tried so hard not to, but it felt like the more i was trying to not think of you, the more i did. you were the first and last person i talked to every single day. some mornings, when i was still in a sleepy haze, i found myself looking at my phone to see if you had texted me and when reality hit me, it was another kind of pain. you were part of my everyday, you became a habit. it's hard getting rid of habits. i had to get used to say that i didn't have a boyfriend when asked about relationships, and i couldn't use 'my boyfriend and i already planned something' when i wanted to get out of things. i was wondering if i was the only one that had to hold myself back from sending you a text. i was wondering if you too, struggled with not having me in your life anymore."

"i did. i do. so much, y/n. you don't know how much i want to go back to slap some sense into myself and not break up with you. i was so overwhelmed with graduation, work and keeping up with family and friends that i thought i needed to get rid of something."

"so you got rid of me..."

"and i regret it so fucking much. the minute i saw the tears in your eyes i regretted it. i thought it was for the better, i was so busy i couldn't even be a proper boyfriend to you, and you deserved better than that. i thought letting you go was the best for the both of us."

"the best? i cried every single night for three months straight. not only because i missed you, but because as you said i deserved better. i knew that... i knew it but i also knew that if you showed up like this at my door back then i would've taken you back in a heartbeat. and it made me hate myself, because i loved you more than i loved myself."

"i'm so sorry, y/n. i really am-"

"babe! where are you?", you heard bf!renjun screaming from your room, with his sleepy and worried voice.

"i'll be right back, junnie.", you answered with a little smile on your face, imagining your boyfriend with his eyes closed and a pout on his face as his arm was lying on your empty side of the bed. you turned back to face jeno, whose face seemed like he saw a ghost, "jeno, i appreciate the apology... but you're a little too late. i've stopped waiting for you a long time ago.", you gave him a small apologetic smile.

jeno looked at you and realized how much he fucked up. you've rightfully moved on and he was the only one being stuck in something he created. when you replied to your boyfriend, that was when he noticed the smile on your face, the same smile that used to be directed to him, and that was the only time he saw you express happiness since he appeared on your doorstep.

"fuck, you're really here.", a familiar voice said right after you heard the elevator doors open.

"i really wished i was wrong.", another familiar voice said.

you turned your head and saw two people, you thought you wouldn't see again, walking towards your apartment.

"time to go home, samoyed."

"haechan. jaemin.", you greeted your ex's bestfriends.

"sorry for the disruption.", ex's bestfriend!haechan told you before grabbing jeno's arm and putting it around his shoulders, helping his friend walk away from your apartment and your life.

"how have you been ?", your old childhood bestfriend!jaemin said, letting jeno and haechan walk away first.

"great...you?"

"same."

the feeling of awkwardness and nostalgia could be sensed in the air. you looked at each other a few more seconds as all the memories of your friendship, from when you met in kindergarten to when he stayed by jeno's side when you two broke up, flashed through your eyes.

"baaaabeee!!", your boyfriend whined from far away, "come baaaack!"

"well, it's late. we're going to let you go back to your night. sorry about that.", jaemin nodded towards your ex, "and everything else...", hinting at his own mistakes.

you nodded, acknowledging his apology, "bye, jaem.", you gave him one last smile. it had been a while since he heard his nickname coming out of your mouth.

"bye, y/n.", jaemin returned your smile.

you watched him walk away with his two other friends, knowing that your byes stood as an official farewell to your friendship and his presence in your life.

[the-lazyyy-artist]

Pairing: Yuuji Itadori x non-sorcerer!Reader (Fem reader) Themes: FLUFF!!, Aged Up!Yuuji (20 years old), flower talk (slightly because I didn't have enough research. JP fans pls don't come at me!), brief mentions of Nobara and Megumi, just a blurb Author's note: I realized that I really need to learn more of Japan's floriology because it's so interesting. I wanna know how flowers are arranged to convey a certain message. Also, Japanese Violets (Sumire) symbolizes Love and Sincerity!

By the age of 20, Yuuji Itadori considered himself a self-actualized person.

After the events in Shinjuku, he found the purpose of his being: to protect. May it be his friends, his mentors, or other people. If you ask Megumi, he'll say Yuji always stayed the same. He's still as selfless as the day he and Nobara met him. But for Yuji, it just solidified what he wanted out of his life, and being selfless makes him happy. To see people safe makes him happy.

Megumi would always nag Yuuji, telling him to stop being so selfless for a while and think about himself. "You don't have to go out of your way to protect me," Megumi would say with a sigh, "you saved me, and I am grateful for that, but what would make me happy is for you to go out there and find someone."

"Someone? I don't want to find someone, Megumi," Yuuji would say, shrugging, "if there's someone for me, then she'll just come. Simple as that. All I have to do is to wait."

But love, attraction, and admiration, they don't come easily to those who doesn't even bother to look. In Yuuji's case, it was somewhat of a rare occurrence in his life, given that he made himself happier by serving others.

Every Saturday, Yuuji would visit his grandfather's grave, buying flowers at a local flower shop before he went to the station. The little bell on the door rang as Yuuji opened the door and he was welcomed by the smell of different flowers. That's when you emerged from the back room.

You, with your hair pinned up beautifully. You, with a bandana over your head, strands of hair escaping due to your movements throughout the day. You, with green gloves over your hands. You, with a gentle smile gracing your lips as you greet him warmly.

Yuuji never had a moment where he stopped in his tracks, but now, he stopped. He stopped to admire you, his eyes wide, lips parted. For a moment, you raised your brows, looking back at him in confusion. "Hello?" You spoke again.

"Oh, uhm, hi," Yuuji replied, a slight tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks, "sorry about that. Are you new here?"

"Yeah," you answered plainly, taking a bit of caution about the awkwardness that enveloped you both. Yuuji nodded, then continued to check the prepared grave flower baskets on display on the flower shop's shelves. After picking one, he brought it to the counter, where you were waiting, and paid the exact amount. "Thank you," you said, "come again soon."

He knows it's been his routine for 4 years, traveling every weekend to Sendai to visit his grandfather and then back to Tokyo the same day, but seeing you every Saturday filled him with so much joy and warmth that he looks forward to it every week.

After two months of visiting the shop, sharing smiles, and small talk (hey, it's an upgrade from just staring at each other before you'd say your usual "come again soon"), Yuuji realized that maybe this was what Megumi was talking about. Sure, he can still be selfless when it comes to his job, but he felt more open to the world and the possibility that he could be happier than he is now that he's found you.

So, that one Saturday, he walked in, and you were already there, in your usual spot behind the counter. "Yuuji!" You chirped, smiling widely at him, "Right on schedule." Yuuji smiled sheepishly, and replied, "Yeah, can't be late."

He looked at the arranged flower baskets, which he always admired now because you once mentioned that you were in charge of preparing the flower baskets every day. Such skill and accuracy that each flower was in full view, not one being covered by the other. He picked one, the prettiest of them all in his opinion, and brought it to the counter, where you were waiting patiently.

"Any plans tomorrow?" Yuuji asked, as always. You shook your head, smiling, "Nope. I'll just stay home and rest. Are you asking for the sake of small talk, or do you have plans?" you teased as you prepared a small plastic bag for the flower basket. Yuuji only chuckled lightly, a blush dusting his cheeks. It has always amused you how easily Yuuji blushes. "Here you go," Yuuji said, placing the exact payment on the counter. You handed him the flowers as you punched the amount on the cash register and stored the payment in the drawer. "Well, be careful on your trip to Sendai," you told him, smiling, "it still amazes me that you're always so committed to visiting your grandpa despite living far from your hometown."

"Yeah, well, he's the family member that I can actually visit, even now that he's dead. I'll take you with me some time, so you can visit my hometown," he replied with a shrug, and now it was your turn to blush. "O-oh, okay, that would be nice, Yuuji," you replied, wide-eyed and flustered.

Yuuji smiled. "Before I leave, I have something for you." He opened his bag and carefully pulled out three violets, leaves and all. You laughed as you watched him hand it over to you. "It's for you. I really, really want to know you more," he said, his soft gaze making you melt. You took the flowers from him and smiled softly. "So, if you're free tomorrow, maybe we can go out and talk more. Small talk just won't do anymore," Yuuji continued, smiling sheepishly.

As you accepted his invite for a date tomorrow, you waved him goodbye as he left the store and watched him walk away through the large glass windows of the shop. The idea of planting these in separate pots made you smile as it would mean immortalizing the budding attraction you had for the boy.

[floridaboiler]

source - https://twitter.com/CalltoActivism

I absolutely love this story…….. It made me cry.

"An 87 Year Old College Student Named Rose The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn’t already know.

I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned round to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being.

She said, “Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I’m eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?”

I laughed and enthusiastically responded, “Of course you may!” and she gave me a giant squeeze. “Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?” I asked.

She jokingly replied, “I’m here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids…”

“No seriously,” I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.

“I always dreamed of having a college education and now I’m getting one!” she told me. After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake.

We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months, we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this “time machine” as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.

Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.

At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I’ll never forget what she taught us.

She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, “I’m sorry I’m so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I’ll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know.”

As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, “We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success.

1) You have to laugh and find humor every day.

2) You’ve got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die.

We have so many people walking around who are dead and don’t even know it!

3) There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up.

If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don’t do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old.

If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight.

Anybody can grow older.

That doesn’t take any talent or ability.

The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change.

4) Have no regrets.

The elderly usually don’t have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets.”

She concluded her speech by courageously singing “The Rose.

She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives. At the year’s end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.

Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it’s never too late to be all you can possibly be.

When you finish reading this, please send this peaceful word of advice to your friends and family, they’ll really enjoy it!

These words have been passed along in loving memory of ROSE.

REMEMBER, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY. GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL.

We make a Living by what we get,

[ghostradiodylan]

Me every time someone asks if The Quarry fandom is dead.

Is it less alive than it once was? I’m sure it is. The numbers on old posts and fanfics tell me that it must be (although obviously they’re cumulative). But I wasn’t here for that part, I’m a late adopter. All I know is the brainrot is going strong for me (ten-ish months on?) and a core group of others and if you want in on that literally all you have to do is click the tag and interact. Reblog a post with some commentary. Send an ask. Everyone I’ve talked to in the Quarry fandom has been nice as hell and so stoked to talk about this stuff!

If I’m quiet for a day or two it’s not because the brainrot has passed. Some days it’s because I was up at 4 AM writing my silly gay stories. Yesterday it was because I played with the TQ counselors in The Sims for like ten hours (why is it so hard to make The Sims look like specific people?!). I have A Problem. You can make it your problem too. (Please I need the enrichment.)

We also have a very welcoming and active Discord server if that’s your thing. I actually didn’t think it was my thing but it turns out it’s very much my thing and now I basically live there and I miss the custom emojis when I talk to people anywhere else :3 https://discord.gg/eHSwHvpj

[stylesispunk]

The great war | Part III |

"You drew up some good faith treaties I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone, you said I have to trust more freely but diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire"

Part 1 , Part 2, part 4,part 5 | masterlist

(gif credits to its owner)

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

word count: 2,8k>

series summary: After things fell apart it seemed that Joel and you were falling into pieces.

series warning: angst, established relationship (complicated though) hints to cheating, age gap (Reader is in her late 20s, Joel is in his late 40s), mentions of stillborn baby, please don't read if you feel it triggers.

A/n: I remind you that English is not my first language so please forgive any mistake. No proofreaded, sorry

During the following days, Joel made a great effort on giving Rhia the space she needed. He respected her wishes and retrained from reaching out constantly. It was incredibly difficult for him to keep doing it. They were under the same roof but not talking at all. What’s more, Ellie was the bridge of communication between them both and she was checking on both daily. 

One night, Ellie found Joel sitting alone on the porch, staring at the moon. She approached him and sat beside him, offering companionship. “What’s on your mind, old man?” She asked. 

“I miss her,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of pain. “I never told her this but I dreamt about her and the baby since the moment I knew she was pregnant” he took a deep breath “I told her I didn’t want to be a father and I took her with me during months in the danger, all that meanwhile she was carrying a baby” Joel looked at Ellie “You look after her better than me” 

Ellie looked at him with a mix of sympathy.

“And when we finally arrived here, I thought a family could be possible, but you know what happened” his gaze still fixed on the moon. 

“You know what Joel?” She said “I believe in love, even in this shitty world and you and Rhia were kind of disgusting” She smiled warmly at the memories she had of them.  

Joel’s eyes flickered. There was hope in his heart. 

In the middle of the night, Joel couldn’t sleep, so he went to the living room to distract himself with something else to do. Suddenly, Rhia entered to the room, her eyes widen at the sight of Joel there. She walked past him without a word, heading to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Joel was unable to contain the tension, and followed her into the kitchen

“How are you?” He asked

Rhia tensed at the closeness of Joel; her hands trembled as she placed the glass of water on the counter “I’m fine” she replied, her voice steady “Just couldn’t sleep”

Joel nodded, not knowing what else to say.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, pointing at her stomach.

Rhia instinctively, placed her hand over the scar, a mixture of emotions crossing her mind, the knife, the wound, her daughter who used to be there.

“It’s healing” she replied, shortly

“I’m sorry” Joel whispered, guilt gnawing at him

“For what? Leaving me alone, saying those hurtful things or for your friend” she said asked, voice lace with sarcasm.

Joel took a deep breath “Everything”

Rhia looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and disappointment. “You should have told me” She whispered “Shit I know I was-am sad, and I will be for a long time, but you avoiding me…I know I did push you away too, but you should have talked to me, not her”

“I can’t change what I did” he said, his voice breaking “But we can work on us together?”

Rhia’s heart softened as she looked into Joel’s eyes, seeing the pain he also carried. 

Rhia reached out to touch his hand but before she could even do it, she stepped back and crossed her arms trying to steady herself “I know” Rhia took a deep breath “I want to believe you. I do believe you, but words are not enough”

Joel nodded at her.

“You know? I think it would be better for me if stay in another place...-

“No, Rhia…Ellie would kill me” he interrupted.

“Joel…I think is weird for us to be living in the same house when we’re not together” she said

“I’ll move out. I could stay at Tommy’s…Please just stay here, at least for Ellie” he pleaded. “You should go back to sleep”

Rhia nodded, offering him a small smile “I’ll try”

Rhia turned to leave the kitchen, and as she reached the doorway, she turned back to look back at Joel. She decided not to say anything and made her way back to her room instead, her mind filled with thoughts.

During the next days, Rhia spent time helping in the community and going back to her old activities, one of them being at the bar. She found herself lost in thought, processing her feelings, the pain he carried, and Joel. He had left the house three days ago; it was the first time they were apart since the day they met and it felt strange.  

Lucy had been watching her from the distance, feeling the anger of only looking at her. She made the choice of approach to her, frustration and anger evident in her eyes. She finally made up her mind and walked up to Rhia. 

As Lucy, approached Rhia, her footsteps were hesitant but determined. Rhia didn’t notice Lucy’s closeness until she was standing in front of her. Startled, Rhia looked up at Lucy.

“Lucy?” Rhia said surprised. “Do you need something?

Lucy took a deep breath, trying to control her own feelings 

“We need to talk” she said, voice laced with hatred. 

Rhia looked up, taken aback at Lucy’s tone. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“What’s wrong?! Rhia, you re infuriating! “Lucy exclaimed 

Rhia’s eyes widened in surprised at her tone

Lucy took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions, but her anger was stronger. 

“You know the only reason Joel and I are not together is because of you?” She lied. She still wanted her chance with Joel.

Rhia’s eyes narrowed at Lucy’s words, feeling a surge of anger and hurt. That was a lie, wasn’t it?

“That’s not true, Lucy,” she said, her voice completely steady

“Oh, but it is” she continued lying, “He told me. He actually felt pity for you and for what happened to you, baby” 

Rhia’s heart pounded in her chest, torn between disbelief and anger. She wasn’t believing that words. 

“You’re sick in the head” Rhia said, trying to steady her voice 

Lucy smirked “You two are not even living together anymore! You’re stealing my chance with him! You left him and now he doesn’t want to be around me because of you” her face contorted with anger.

Rhia’s emotions were a mix all over the place, she was tired of this bullshit.

“You’re delusional” Rhia shot back; voice laced with frustration

Lucy took a step closer “You think you’re perfect, don’t you? But I could give him the family you never will”

Rhia’s heart sank at Lucy’s words. Her anger was replaced by deep shame and sadness. 

“He didn’t even want that baby of yours, did he?” 

Rhia’s eyes blazed with indignation. Lucy’s cruel words were taking the best of her. Tears welled up in Rhia’s eyes at the mention of her tiny baby, but she refused to cry in front of her. 

“You know, Rhia? In a world like this, you need to be strong and you are not in a good place” Lucy said, voice laced with venom “You don’t deserve Joel” 

Those words cut deep; Rhia’s felt her heart break a little more. 

“And you’re the one saying this?” She took a step closer, Rhia had enough of Lucy “You, the one who has always been inside these walls?” her voice defensive “You have never seen the things I’ve seen, you’ve never done the things I had to do, so don’t come here to tell me I’m weak”

Lucy seemed taken aback by Rhia’s words, but she regained her composure.

“You’re trying to convince yourself you are better- “

“I had enough,” Rhia said, voice raising “The world is over and you are here trying to have a man who doesn’t want to be with you, so if you excuse me. I’ll keep doing what I was doing before you came here” Rhia turned on her heels to go.

“At least I wouldn’t get my baby killed” Lucy called out; she knew her words were cruel but she wanted to hurt the woman.

Rhia froze in her tracks, her heart pounding in her chest. Lucy’s words cut like a knife. 

Turning back to face Lucy, Rhia’s eyes were filled with fury “You have no right- “

Before she could continue, she noticed Lucy’s eyes widened. When Rhia turned back, she saw Joel standing behind her, anger in his eyes. 

Joel stepped forward; his jaw clenched tightly. His eyes bore into Lucy with disappointment “Enough” he said, firmly “I won’t stay here watching you say all this bullshit to Rhia”

Lucy’s bravery weakened in Joel’s presence, but she still tried to defend herself “I didn’t lie”

Joel shook his head “Using her” he chocked “Our pain to hurt her is cruel”

Rhia couldn’t hold back her frustration any longer and turned to leave, her emotions were overwhelming. 

“Rhia, wait” Joel called after her, reaching out to grab her hand gently. How good it felt to touch her again. 

Rhia stopped, her heart beating heart. Being this close to Joel after all these days felt overwhelming. Rhia felt a mix of relief and anger “Why would she do that”? 

“She acted out of desperation and jealousy” he explained trying to keep Rhia calm

Rhia took a deep breath, trying to process his words

Rhia’s emotions were in turmoil. 

“Why would she be so jealous and desperate?” Rhia asked, her voice tinged with frustration. 

Joel’s heart felt heavy. 

Rhia looked into Joel’s eyes; her own eyes filled with frustration. 

“Because you made her believe she was important to you”  

“You’re right,” he said, his voice gentle but filled with regret. 

Rhia hugged herself tightly, feeling a surge of protectiveness over their lost child and their relationship

“I don’t even care about her, I-what hurts the most is how you acted after Daisy”

Joel’s eyes widened with surprise. He hadn’t expected her to name their baby.

“I didn’t know you named her” Joel said softly “I wish you had told me”

Rhia looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry” she whispered. “She deserved a name”

Joel reached out to wipe away Rhia’s tears, he didn’t want to be the cause of her sadness anymore. 

“I needed you” Rhia said, her voice finally breaking “I cried myself to sleep alone and you were there with—”

Joel pulled Rhia close, embracing her tightly

“Get off of me, Joel” 

His heart sank at Rhia’s reaction. 

“You made a mess of me” her face filled with a mix of emotions.

“I was wrong, and I can’t change what I did but I want to make it right” Joel admitted 

Rhia let out a deep and frustrated sigh “It’s not that simple and I don’t know if I can forgive you right now. 

Joel reached out and took her hand gently “I will be here from now on” 

Rhia didn’t respond, but this time she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned on Joel

He smiled against her head “I’ll do whatever it takes to have our family back”

Rhia didn’t say anything. They stood there in silence for a moment, their feeling hanging heavy in the air. 

“I-I have to go” she said, pulling away 

Joel nodded “Okay”

Rhia took a deep breath trying to steady her emotions.

As she turned to leave, Joel softly grabbed her wrist pulling her into a hug, again. Rhia, surprised by this action, hugged him back. She only wanted her old time with Joel for a few seconds. He kissed her forehead gently, cherishing the closeness they had at that moment.

When they parted ways, Rhia gave him a small nod.

“Take care, Joel”

On the following day, the sun rose over the small town, casting a warm touch lingering on the skin, even in the coldness of the day, Joel found himself marching towards Tommy’s in the kitchen.

Stepping inside, Joel was greeted by Tommy, who appeared calm despite Joel’s dementor. It was evident he was angry at him.

“What the hell did you have in mind, Tommy?!”  Joel’s voice carried anger

“Good morning, Joel” Tommy reply, simply.

“Sending Rhia alone on a mission for supplies?” He asked dumfounded “Do I have to remind you last time she almost died?

Tommy sighed; he understood his brother concerns “Before you hit me or something, it was her who offered”

Joel, taken aback asked “She...offered? “ 

Tommy nodded “Yes, it’s only a search for resources” he explained, hoping this could help Joel to understand. 

“That doesn’t mean you should have agreed to it! I won’t let her and she is out of her mind if she thinks I’m letting her go��

Tommy nodded, acknowledging Joel’s protectiveness over Rhia

“Then go with her” he said 

“Of course, I will” Joel said resolutely, determined. 

Tommy nodded, smiling at his older brother's stubbornness.

“God. She is gonna punch me in the face” Tommy said

“She’ll understand” Joel admitted.

“No, she’ll get mad, at you the most” Tommy said.

As the pair made their way to the stables, Joel’s heart raced.

“You know what? Tommy stopped. “You should take this chance to fix thins with Rhia?”

Joel nodded, remaining silent.

As they stepped inside, Rhia turned toward them. Her eyes rolled when she saw Joel; she knew what he was doing.

“What he doing here?” She asked, directly at Tommy.

Tommy exchanged a look with Joel before addressing the elephant in the room.

“He is going with you” he said

Rhia’s expression softened slightly, but a frustration still lingering in her features.

“I can take care of myself” She replied, voice irritated.

“I know, but you both are a team” he said looking at them.

“I think Joel doesn’t know that” she said, sarcastically.

“Oh my god Rhia! Of course, I know” he retorted, frustration in his voice.

Rhia rolled her eyes “Really? Last time I checked, you were a team with other people” Her voice, lingering with jealousy

His jaw clenched, Joel took a deep breath “Look, if you don’t want me to go, you can go right now, but I’m still following you”

Rhia crossed her arms, her expression softening “Okay”

 “You know how I feel about your safety” Joel added

Rhia’s gaze locked with his “Thank you, but I can take care of myself too”

“I know” He replied “But after last time…I won’t risk losing you again”

Rhia smile, timidly

As they shared an intimate moment, Tommy interrupted, calling them over.

“Can you kiss already and go?” He spoke

Joel and Rhia blushed at Tommy’s interruption.

“Be safe out there” Tommy added.

“Hey, Tommy” Rhia called “While we were out there, take care of Ellie” she said.

Tommy nodded “Of course, I will keep her safe” he smiled “Now, go and take care. Ellie and I will be here waiting for you”

With a final nod, Joel and Rhia mounted their horses and set off to their mission and ventured out of the safety of Jackson.

Joel and Rhia rode side by side, their horses’ hooves echoing through the eerily silence of the desolate world, the tension between them both still filling the air. The world around them seemed to hold the same rust of silence growing between them. 

Joel stole a glance at Rhia, she was deep in thought.

“Rhia?” Joel spoke breaking the silence. 

Rhia looked at him expectantly. Joel reached out gently touching her arm.

“Thank you for allowing me to come here” he said

“You’re my partner” she said “Even when we are not together anymore”

Joel’s heart sunk at those last words and remained silent.

As they explored the reminiscing of the place looking for resources, night enveloped them. They found shelter in an old rusting house. Joel set up a small bonfire, providing them with warmth and light.

“It’s hard to believe this was once a home” she said softly, interrupting the silence. 

Joel reminded silence, his eyes locked on Rhia’s face, glistening in the firelight. He was lost on her. His heart swelled with love for the woman in front of him. After all that happened, he had forgotten how lucky he was to have her in this world. 

“Rhia” Joel began “You’re my rock, you know that?” Joel said softly.

Rhia looked at him, her eyes shimmering in the light. She smiled softly, but didn’t reply. Instead, she settled down beside Joel, shoulder touching. Them both staring into the flames of the campfire. 

“I mean it” He spoke

Joel turned his head to look at her, their eyes meeting in a moment of unspoken words and deep connection. 

Joel gently reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from Rhia’s face as they locked their eyes “I love you” he whispered. 

Rhia’s heart skipped a beat, and a soft smile appeared on her face. They leaned closer, their foreheads touching.

They leaned in, almost kissing. Joel could almost feel her lips on his

“Do you really think a kiss will solve all this?” She said barely touching his lips, voice laced with teasing. 

Rhia’s smile grew, and she pulled back. 

Joel let out a disappointed sigh. 

It seemed like things weren’t going to be that easy for him.

A/N: I don't know what I wrote, but I hope you liked it a little bit. Thank you so much for reading and please, comment, reblog or ask me anything,

All the best.

taglist:

@joeldjarin

[bitchinbarzal]

Here’s an angst idea

After having Wyatt, Mama B, and Mat decided that it was best if Mama B stepped back from her job so that someone could care for their kids 24/7.

Once Hockey season resumes, the weight of everything started to fall on Mama B a lot. 4 kids, and you’re practically a single mother. You have 2 kids in school with active hobbies, a clingy two-year-old and a newborn.

Her husband? He’s either on a roadie or going home late after celebratory drinks.

Then, they had a big fight one night. Mean things were said but Mama B’s stand is “You get to enjoy your life and career while I have to sacrifice mine. I love the kids but isn’t fair and I fear I’m losing my self of identity.”

After Wyatt was born, you’d decided to take the same six month break you’d taken with all of the other kids but as the time went on you felt like you should stay home and be with the kids.

So, you decided to take a leave of absence from the team indefinitely.

In the beginning, it was all fine. You were soaking up the newborn phase and then the off season came around so you didn’t feel any different.

When the season started back up again, Mat would come home telling you all about his day at the rink and you couldn’t help but become sort of jealous. You wondered what your boys were doing, how were the new guys getting on?

You loved Wyatt, this wasn’t about her. It was about feeling isolated from your friends, work and social life.

You sat at home alone watching stories of the devils on road trips, of your husband out drinking with his friends while you were surrounded by your sleeping kids.

During the day, you felt like you didn’t get a moment to breathe. Ryder had hockey practice almost every single night and Ivy was doing something if it was dancing, piano lessons or something. Along with the fact that the kids were still taking ASL lessons on top of all of that.

On Sunday Mat had an afternoon game and by the time he’d returned home you had already made the kids dinner and cleaned up, everything Mat promised to help with.

He walks in and the house is silent, apart from Wyatt’s gurgling.

When he enters the kids playroom he sees them all, you included having a conversation solely in sign language.

He frowns, not being able to depict the whole sentence only a few words.

“What you guys talking about?”

You all turn to look at him, you bounce wyatt in your arms.

“We’re telling Bailey a bedtime story!” Ivy announces proudly.

“You are?” He asks, walking in and picking Bailey up into his lap.

Bailey begins signing to Mat but his dad only frowns “I-I’m sorry bud I don’t know what you’re saying”

“Mat, he can’t hear you” you grumble “He’s not got his cochlear in”

Before Mat can defend himself, try and sign something to Bailey you take the toddler and mumble something about putting him to bed.

When you come back down, Mat has sent the two older kids to the playroom to watch a movie while Wyatt sleeps soundly in her bassinet by the couch.

You begin pottering around, cleaning the kids mess when Mat speaks “What did you get up to today?”

You don’t look up when you say “Same shit, different day”

He chuckles softly “they can be a little much huh?”

You scowl “and how would you know?”

Mat looks taken a back at your tone “what?”

“How would you know, Mat? How would you know what our kids are like; it’s not like you’re ever around”

You drop the rag in your hand and stare at him wildly “Well?”

He stutters “What is wrong with you?”

You let out a loud and tired sigh “What is wrong with me, Mathew is that I am tired! I’m so tired, I’ve never stopped all day since the day we brought Wyatt home and now you’re telling me you know what our kids are like as if you’re ever around!”

“I’m around-“ you laugh at that, laughing so hard you need to hold your stomach.

Mat stands there, looking like Bailey does when he’s in trouble until you stop “Oh sorry, that was a funny joke”

“It wasn’t a joke”

You point “no, you see it was a huge joke just like you Mat”

“You’re being so rude right now” is all he says and you pout, somewhat mocking him

“You know what’s rude Mat? The fact you can’t even speak to your own son” you shrug “because you’re not home to take the lessons that we agreed we would all take for Bailey!”

“I’m busy at the-“

“At the rink yes I know! I know Mat, because I wish I was at the rink, I wish I was with my team, I wish I was still at work!” You cried, angry tears lining your eyes.

He gapes “You’re mad I’m doing my job?”

“No!” You almost scream “I am not mad at you for doing your job, I’m mad at you because you stopped me from doing mine!”

“The NHL was my childhood dream y/n!”

You sob “It was mine too, Mat”

Both of your chests are rising with rapids breaths “I-I love you, Mathew and I love our kids. We have four beautiful babies here with us, but I cannot keep playing a backup role in the Mat show. I won’t do it”

Mat stands up straighter “The Mat show” he mocks “Like I haven’t always done the things you wanted, we moved house because you needed to work in jersey instead of New York, I gave up so much time chasing you while I was a rookie, everything-“

It hurt hearing that, that he felt like winning you over was an inconvenience.

“I never wanted you to chase me mat, and if you’re so resentful of it then maybe we would’ve been better of if you hadn’t tried”

His heart breaks a little, your suggestion that life would be better if you weren’t together definitely stung.

“You get to enjoy your life and career while I have to sacrifice mine, Mathew. I love the kids and I love you but all of this isn’t fair and I fear I’m losing my self of identity”

Mat is rendered speechless, he’s not sure what to say so he asks “Well What do we do now?”

You shrug “I don’t know, I’m going to put the kids to bed”

A little over an hour later you reappear at the kitchen door and he’s sitting with his hands grasping his hair waiting for you. When he hears you his head shoots up to look at you, eyes falling on the bag in your hand.

“Where are You going?”

You shake your head “Not me, you. I think it’s best if you find somewhere else to live for a little while Mat, give us some space”

“You don’t mean that, we can talk about this” he is almost begging and you.

You drop the bag on the floor and sigh “Please Mat, don’t make this harder than it needs to be”

“It should be hard! We need to fight for our marriage y/n”

“No, Mathew we don’t. Text me your training schedule for the next week and we can sort something out with the kids, Wyatt won’t be able to stay over night because she’s breastfeeding but the rest of them are fine”

Mat doesn’t know what to say, he’s at a loss for words this wasn’t angry words you were saying you were calm, collected and thinking this all through.

He was standing right in front of you. His fingers ghosted over your cheeks and he could feel your tears.

“Baby-“

“Please” you whispered “Please just go, I can’t do this”

So he did, and it hurt him so much to go but if that’s what you wanted he would do it. He went into the kids rooms and kissed them all goodnight before he left, residing at an Airbnb that he managed to find on such short notice.

he spent the entire night awake, looking through your Facebook at your wedding photos, you babies pictures all through tears he watched as his family slowly slipped further away from him and he wasn’t sure he could get a grasp on them again.

[theunstuffedpepper]

Time flies, I guess? I can’t believe it’s been a month since I’ve posted something here.

January was chock full of snow days for us, which is always fun, though the sun making a reappearance during this last week or so has truly been so welcome. Dare I say I’m ready for spring?

We celebrated Holden turning 3 — had a big party for him with lots of friends and family and naturally, everything was monster truck themed. He loved it. Seeing him grow and learn continues to be so amazing. I was just saying to B last night that during his 3-year well visit with the pediatrician they asked if he can put together 3- or 4-word sentences. Seems like lately he’s not just putting sentences together, but he’s telling us full fledged stories all the time. I love how much he’s able to express himself now. I work with him often on identifying and expressing his feelings, finding healthy ways to cope with some tough feelings, and for a 3 year old he does pretty well with it. I’m constantly in awe (except during the toddler tantrums, which are very, very real). Big highs, big lows!

Things with MIL continue to be a struggle but we’re working through it. B and I have mostly been able to stay on the same team and support each other which is what’s important at the end of the day. I’ve recently found my voice within some tough conversations and it feels really, really good. Speaking what’s on my heart has been kind of a revelation for me.

I’m now entering something of a rediscovering-myself period. After having three kids in three years, coping with intense loss and grief, relocating, enduring some big shifts in family dynamic, I’ve been left feeling like.. who even am I now? I’ve been operating in survival mode for some time and it’s left me feeling like a shell of myself. I’m beginning to slowly find things that I like to do just for me. (Who knew that would also help me harbor way less resentment and be a better partner and friend?) I’m gonna go try a yoga class tomorrow for the first time in a long time and I’ve been reading books on — wait for it — birding, of all things. I’m getting into birds, guys. 😅

Here’s to making more frequent updates again. I miss this space. Looking forward to catching up with you, friends.

[gordonradiotv]

A (Long Overdue) Celebration

Ah, hello, Readers!

It's Jox again! Some of you probably knew me as "Toony" back in the day, but it's been a looong while since I used that name. And it's been a long while since this blog ended!

On May 23rd, 2020 I started this little ask blog not expecting it to become much. But because of all of you, it blew up into something absolutely incredible! I wish I had the words to describe how this blog changed my life. I met my fiance because of this blog. I met lifelong friends. I gained the confidence to pursue independent passion projects like my webcomic Tip The Ferrymen and others. It's kinda insane to think a tumblr ask blog based on the haha funny HL youtube series would've had such an impact on my life.

So, I wanted to do something to celebrate the blogs 4 anniversary! Unfortunately we are a bit late to the mark due to some wild stuff that happened earlier this year, but better late than never! But finally it is done and finally Tumblr let me actually upload these lmfao. Without further ado, I want to announce:

GordonRadioTV's Soundtrack has been FULLY remastered!

With help from my lovely creative partner and fiance @stygiuscantus , the soundtrack for this blog has been fully remastered! Now, you can experience the whole story again with a fresh coat of paint. The tracks are also available on Selene's bandcamp, they're "pay what you want" as well! If you want to support Selene's work, here's a good place to do it!

I am also aware that some of you may be disappointed that the old tracks are gone, but for extremely private reasons that I will not be disclosing I no longer feel comfortable having those tracks up on this blog. To me, this is a fresh start to a project I hold dear to my heart and allows me to experience it all over again. I have loved every moment of working with Selene and she has put so much heart and effort into this, so cheers to new beginnings!

Selene herself also wanted to say a few words, which are included here:

"Four years ago, a friend of mine linked a little blog called GordonRadioTV in one of our Discord servers. Being fixated on HLVRAI at the time, I quickly checked it out, only for it to genuinely, actually make me laugh. I think I read all of the chapters up to that point (up to 3, I think?) in one go, because it was such a novel storytelling medium to me, and I was immediately enraptured. Little did I know that this little funny Half-Life blog would quite literally change my life, introducing me to new friends, inspiring me to experiment with my own art forms, and helped me find the love of my life, to whom I now life with together and am engaged to. Whenever Jox needed a new composer, I jumped in to help on short-notice, giving myself a brief crash-course on music theory to do so. I started this project months ago in the hopes that I would get it done in time for the anniversary, but, well, making 20 tracks takes a long time. I tried to put a lot of thought and love into each track, with each character having their own instrumental motif, and even some melodic motifs (namely for Gordon and Benrey). I truly hope that all of you like it; I am honored to be a part of the legacy of something that's so important to me."

-Selene Highchurch

Thank you all for everything. I have said it a million times, and I wish I had a new way to phrase it, but this blog means so much to me. This project means so much. Your support means so much to me. These stories are mine as much as they are yours, so much of this story wouldn't have existed without your participation. Thank you for being here. Thank you for playing.

And to alter the words of a certain scientist...

You've changed my life, everyone. I'd like to think it was for the better.

I don't know whats going to happen to us once this blog is done for good, but I know I'll never forget you. I hope you won't forget me.

Well...This is where I get off.

Goodbye, Readers!

[petitelepus]

Old Friends, New Lovers? Part 1

MODERN!HAGANEZUKA HOTARU X FEM!READER

Summary: You and Haganezuka go way back. You were childhood friends and these days you are both teachers at Kimetsu Academy. The only thing is that you have the worst luck when it comes to finding love and Haganezuka is starting to get enough about it. Things happen and you finally end up together. Now it should be smooth sailing from here on forth, right? A lighthearted story about you and Haganezuka banging here and there and other sweet stuff like that.

Warnings: Cursing, Drinking, Smoking, Vomit

A/N: Modern!AU, Female Reader, Teacher Reader, Teacher Haganezuka, From Friends To Lovers, Tengen Uzui, Kyojuro Rengoku, Goto, Gyomei Himejima, Kanae Kocho, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Kyogai

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4 - PART 5 - PART 6

It was Friday and the students were already on their way home to spend their weekend away from school. That left teachers to fill in last-minute reports and grade essays, projects, and exams. The teachers were mostly minding their own business when you suddenly slammed the door to the teacher's office open and then shut behind you.

"I AM PISSED!" You exclaimed out loud and your colleagues turned to look at you as you frowned, "Who is going out drinking with me today?!"

The teachers glanced at each other and hands rose one by one. You huffed and nodded, "Great! I'm gonna-!" You were about to say when suddenly the office door slid open and a student peeked inside, "Miss, I need your signature on my paper…"

"Ah-!" You put on a kind smile and nodded as you followed the student out of the office, "Of course, lead the way."

As you left to aid the student, the teachers shared glances with each other.

"What was that about?" Goto asked and many sighed.

"I guess she got dumped again." Tengen thought out loud and Gyomei frowned sadly, "Again?"

"Wasn't she just recently seeing someone?" Kyogai asked and Sanemi nodded, "Yeah. Looks like this one didn't work out for her either."

"She has been this way ever since elementary school." Haganezuka grunted, "She would always chase after boys or girls she liked and then end up heartbroken when they wouldn't return her feelings. Same thing in college."

"Oh right, you guys are childhood friends, right?" Kanae asked and the masked teacher scoffed, "She's a pain in the ass, that's what she is."

"Yeah, you've known her the longest!" Tengen laughed, "Maybe the two of you should date-!"

The art teacher didn't get to finish his sentence when the office's door slid open and you entered the room. To your colleagues' confusion, instead of complaining or shouting, you burrowed yourself into paperwork.

"Are you alright, young lady?" Kyojuro asked and you growled, never taking your eyes off the papers before you, "Yeah, just gotta get these done and I can clock myself out and then go and try to forget this douchebag ex…!"

The teachers glanced at each other but then focused on their own work. The only one who kept looking at you was Haganezuka, but even he focused back on his work before anyone could notice.

Later that night you and your colleagues had gathered in your favorite restaurant slash bar to enjoy good food and drinks. The night was going well, despite it being your way to take out some steam.

"I hate that bastard!" You exclaimed as you chugged your drink, "I gave him two months of my life and he goes and starts seeing his coworker!?"

"Again?" Tengen asked, "What happened to that woman you were seeing just a while ago?"

"Oh, don't get me started!" You shouted, but it was too late, "She said I was nice, but she wasn't looking for something long-term! Apparently, I was just her rebound after she had a nasty breakup!"

"Sounds like you have poor luck when it comes to men or women." Obanai grumbled and you nodded, the alcohol making your mood whimsical and sad all of a sudden, "What am I doing wrong? I'm nice, I have a good job and I'm pretty!"

You pouted as you looked at your colleagues sadly, "I am pretty, right?"

"You're very beautiful." Kanae nodded with a small smile, "But you know, you don't need to be dating someone all the time? You can be single for a moment if you want?"

"You don't get it Kanae… I'm already 36, and I'm not getting any younger!" You cried out, "It's time for me to find love, settle down, maybe pop out a kid or two, and just…"

"Just?"

"I don't know…" You murmured sadly as you drank the rest of your drink in one go and then got up, "I'm going out for a second. I need to get some fresh air."

Your colleagues nodded and didn't pay any mind to you as you got up and stepped outside for a moment. It was already dark, but you didn't mind it. You dug out a cigarette pack from your jacket's pocket, grabbed one, and placed it between your lips before lighting it. You knew that cigarettes were a horrible habit, but you had to blow off some steam or in this case smoke.

"Why the fuck am I this way?" You grumbled quietly by yourself as you blew out some smoke.

"Because you are an idiot, that's why." Came a familiar voice and you turned and saw a familiar Hyottoko mask looking in your direction.

"Haganezuka?" You frowned as your childhood friend settled next to you, content to just watch you smoke. You frowned, "What are you doing here?"

"You always smoke after a breakup." He replied, ignoring your question. You grunted and took a drag of your smoke, "It's a bad habit of mine. Always has been."

"Oh yeah? I remember that you started to smoke to impress a guy." Haganezuka reminded you and you frowned as you remembered that crush who didn't even know you existed. You still remember how you had left him a love letter, but another girl had taken credit for it. Those two were probably married and had kids by now.

"Don't remind me…" You crumbled, suddenly getting a bad taste in your mouth and it wasn't just the cancer stick. You decided that you didn't want it anymore. You groaned as you dropped the cigarette and stepped on it with your shoe.

"Fuck it, I'm-" You were saying when you suddenly felt your balance shift and you almost tripped on your own feet. You would have hit the ground if it wasn't for Haganezuka quickly catching you.

"Alright, I think you've had enough!" The man snapped and you groaned as you felt alcohol really hit you. Talk about a sneak attack.

"I'm taking you home." Haganezuka said and you groaned as you tried to stand up on your own, "Just give me a second, I gotta go and pay my tab and-!"

"It's already taken care of." The man said and you looked at him in awe, "You paid my bill?"

"You better pay me back." He grunted and you rolled your eyes, "I will, I will."

The two of you left and as you were walking, you found yourself leaning against Haganezuka's side, enjoying his body's warmth and how stable he felt.

"You're a good friend, you know that?" You thought out loud as you looked at your friend who just grunted. You hummed as you smiled, "You always have been. Even when we were kids, you would always look after me."

"That's because you were a huge crybaby."

"Still… You always took me into your games and such."

"Because you would cry if I didn't include you."

"Ah, memories," You chuckled, "Where did I go wrong?"

"I don't know and I don't care."

"So cruel…!" You whined, and Haganezuka groaned, his patience wearing thin, "Fine! You want to know what's wrong? You fall in love far too easily and with assholes and idiots out of all people!"

"Mean..!" You pouted, "When did my dating become your business?"

"It becomes my business when you always end up with a broken heart!" The man snapped and you were tempted to snap right back at him but you looked as saw that you were already by your apartment building. Haganezuka took you to the front door and you told him the code that the door needed to open.

Once inside, the two of you took an elevator to your floor and walked to your front door. You dug out your keys from your pocket and inserted them into the lock and with a click, your front door opened.

"Thank you for taking me- Whoa, what are you-?" You were interrupted as Haganezuka followed you inside your apartment.

"I need to use the toilet." He grunted as he took his shoes off and you sighed, "First door on the right, you know it."

The man nodded as he went to use your toilet slash bathroom and you made your way to your small kitchen. You glanced at the clock on the wall and noted that it wasn't as late as you had thought. You peeked at your fridge and you were pleased to see a half bottle of vodka and many bottles of Cola.

You heard the toilet being flushed and you peeked to see Haganezuka step out of your toilet.

"Hey, if you don't have anything better to do then would you like to stay and help me finish this bottle?" You asked as you showed your vodka bottle to your friend.

"Why the fuck do you have a bottle of vodka in your fridge?" He asked, and you pouted, "Are you gonna drink it with me or shall I finish it myself?"

"…Fine!" Haganezuka grunted as he walked to your living room and you joined him on your couch with two glasses, a bottle of Cola, and vodka. You poured your glasses full and handed him his vodka-Cola.

"Bottoms up!" You clinked your glass against his and took a long sip of your drink. Haganezuka groaned as he took off his mask and placed it on your coffee table before taking a sip himself.

You immediately looked at him and smiled at the sight of the handsome face he hid behind that funny mask of his. "You're really handsome, you knew that?"

"I don't care." He grunted and you chuckled, "Shame. You would make someone really happy."

Your friend grunted something under his breath and you took your chance to take a sip of your drink.

"I want to ask you something." Haganezuka looked at you with those pretty orange eyes of his, "And I want you to be honest with me. No bullshit or such!"

You hummed thoughtfully, wondering what he wanted to ask, before nodding, "What do you want to know?"

"Why did you never chase after me?"

You blinked, taken aback by his question. It was not a question you expected him out of all people ask.

"You are my friend-!"

"I said no bullshit," He snapped and you frowned, "I didn't-!"

"Tell me the truth or I'll squeeze it out of you!"

"But I… Fine!" You pouted stubbornly as you averted your gaze from him, "Because you were my only friend and I didn't want to chase you away like I chased everyone else I liked…"

You blushed as you realized just how pathetic you sounded… And you blushed even worse when you realized that you just told your friend how you liked him.

"Idiot." Haganezuka grunted as he took a sip of the drink in his hand, "As if you could ever chase me away."

"W- what was that?" You couldn't understand what you heard. Did Haganezuka like you?

"What do you think?" He shot right back at you and you froze, "I… I don't know?"

"Let me explain it to you so that even you can understand…!" Haganezuka growled as he looked at you, "Do you have any idea how annoying it is to listen to you talk about finding someone to love when I am right here!?"

You blinked, confused and the alcohol in your systems didn't help you at all. Nope, if anything, it made things harder for you to read and understand.

"What do you want?" You asked and Haganezuka frowned as he took your drinks and placed them on the table. You were about to repeat your question, but he grabbed your face and kissed you without any warning.

You felt your eyes widen, but slowly you let them close and you found yourself kissing him back. It was a very simple kiss, but for some reason, it filled your stomach with butterflies unlike any other kiss ever did.

Slowly and reluctantly, Haganezuka pulled away from the kiss and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"I want to be your lover." The man said and you stared at him with your eyes wide.

Those butterflies..! They were coming back, and-!

"Hrk!" You slammed a hand over your mouth and bolted, running straight to the toilet and letting it all out. Haganezuka flinched as he heard you hurl and he decided that you had enough to drink. So while you were getting rid of everything in your stomach, he took your drinks and bottle of vodka and poured them all into the kitchen sink.

He heard you flush the toilet and walked into the bathroom to see you hugging your toilet seat like your life depended on it.

"Had enough?" Haganezuka asked, not resisting a chance to tease you. You groaned weakly before your body convulsed and you dry-heaved, but nothing came out.

"I'm…" You gagged, "I'm never drinking again…!"

"Alright, come here you drunk," Haganezuka helped you up on your feet and took you to your bedroom.

"Hotaru…" You whined and whimpered as he tucked you under the blanket and as soon as your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep. Haganezuka stared at you for a second before he grunted and left your bedroom, opting to sleep on your couch so he could make sure that you remembered this night tomorrow.

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

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

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - mentions of drug use

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 11

Matt Sturniolo created his own world; only in his own environment did he feel secure, comfortable, and protected. A genuine camaraderie was created at Graceland. We lived as one big family, eating, talking, arguing, joking, playing, and traveling together.

Although I became friends with the guys in Matt’s retinue, he never let me, or anyone else, forget that I was his girl. I was never to get too close or become too familiar with any of the regulars.

One evening, after we came home from a movie, we said good night to everyone and went upstairs. Returning to the kitchen a few minutes later to get something to eat, I found Jerry Schilling, who’d just started working for Matt, making himself a snack. We started talking. A few minutes later, Matt appeared.

“What the hell are you two doing down here?” he shouted at us.

Intimidated, Jerry said, “Well, Matt, we were just talking. I was asking her how she felt, because she didn’t feel well this afternoon.”

“I came down to get something to eat,” I explained.

“y/nn, you don’t need to be roaming around here late at night,” he said, angrily ordering me upstairs.

Behind me, I could hear him lashing out at Jerry. “If you want to keep this job, son, you mind your own business. If there’s anyone who’s going to ask her how she feels, it’ll be me. You better mind your own goddamn business.”

I liked Jerry. He was warm, sincere, and very personable; just a couple of years older than I, he was one of the few people who I could relate to. But from that time on, it was a dodging match every time we’d run into each other. Now Jerry and I laugh about the “good old days” when we reminisce.

Most of the boys who worked for Matt had been around from the beginning and they knew all about him—his sense of humor, his sensitivity, and his temper. He stripped himself bare in front of them, and they accepted him for what he was.

Yet working for Matt was a twenty-four-hour-a-day job, and the boys were at his beck and call constantly. They played when he played and slept when he slept. It took a certain kind of personality to put up with his demands, whether they made sense or not.

“Come on, y/nn, let’s go to Los Angeles. I’ll show you where I film movies.,” he said one afternoon when we’d only been up for a few hours. He called downstairs and told Alan to alert everyone that he wanted to leave within the hour.

Alan said, “Okay, Boss. I think Richard and Gene are still sleeping. I’ll give ’em a call and tell ’em to come right over.”

“Their lazy asses are still sleeping?” Matt asked. “I’ve been up for two goddamn hours. They should have been over here by now. Alan, from now on, when I call down for my breakfast, call the boys and tell them I’m up and to be ready for anything, and that may include me not even coming downstairs. I just want them here.”

Demanding? Yes, but Matt could be just as generous. By today’s standards the boys’ salaries were not high—the average paycheck was $250 a week—but if the boys ever felt the pinch by the end of the month, they would go to Matt. They’d ask him if he could help them out with a down payment on a house or the first and last months’ payments on an apartment. Matt always came through for them, lending them the one thousand or five thousand or ten thousand dollars they asked for. He was rarely if ever paid back.

There also was no limit to the expensive gifts he gave them—television consoles for Christmas, bonus checks, Cadillac convertibles, Mercedes-Benzes. If he heard someone was sad or depressed, he loved to surprise them with a gift, usually a brand-new car. When he gave to one, he would usually end up giving to all.

James didn’t have much respect for the guys. He said Matt just gave and gave and gave, and they took and took and took. He’d say, “Son, we have to save.” Matt would answer, “It’s only money, Dad. I just have to go out and make more.”

James resented the regulars acting as if Graceland was their personal club. They’d go into the kitchen at any hour and order anything they wanted. Naturally, everyone ordered something different. The cooks worked night and day keeping them happy. James felt, “To hell with the boys. Their main concern should be Matt.”

What was really outrageous was that the regulars were ordering sirloin steaks or prime ribs while Matt usually ate hamburgers or peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

I wasn’t too popular around Graceland when I started reorganizing the kitchen. I set down a policy of having one menu per meal, and anyone who didn’t like what was on it could go to a local restaurant. This new edict resulted in much grumbling from the guys, but the cooks were relieved, and James sanctioned my decision, announcing, “It’s about time someone organized the meals. It was beginning to look like we were feeding half of Boston.”

Matt was the boss, the provider, and the power. Both the boys and I had to protect him from people who annoyed or irritated him and were no longer in his favor. Before coming down for the evening, he’d have me call downstairs to check who was there. I’d run down the guests, aware that certain names would strike him wrong.

“Shit,” he’d say, his mood destroyed. “What’s he want? Bring me some more bad news?” He’d stay up in his room rather than spend an evening with someone he didn’t like. There was one particular regular who had incurred his disfavor, and Matt told everyone he didn’t want him around. “Don’t let him through those goddamn gates!” Matt ordered. “All I have to do is look at his face and I get depressed.” Matt barred him from Graceland for a number of years, saying, “If he changes his morbid attitude, maybe I’ll change my mind.” His perceptions were correct, as these “friends” eventually betrayed him.

Matt and James kept some of their relatives at a distance because, as Matt explained to me, they’d shunned him when he was growing up, ridiculing him as a sissy, a mama’s boy. Mary Lou stood up for Matt and told his tormentors to go their own way. Angrily, she had said, “Don’t bother us with these accusations.”

Then fame and fortune hit, and suddenly all the kinfolk came around, begging for jobs or crying that they needed help. Sometimes Matt got upset, charging, “The only time they visit is with their hand out. It’d be nice if they’d come around just to see how I was doing. But hell no, it’s always, ‘Ah, Matt, I could use a little extra cash. Could you help me out?’ Hell, I’ll bet when I’m dead and gone, they’ll still be taking advantage.” But Matt ended up slipping each of them a hundred dollars or more every time they came around. If it had been up to James, he would have gotten rid of every one of them. But Matt kept saying, “No, Dad, they don’t have any place to go. They couldn’t work anywhere. Keep them here.”

From the beginning of his success, Matt put many family members on salary, and all had titles. James was his business manager; Patsy, his personal secretary; uncles Vester Sturniolo and Johnny and Travis Smith, and cousin Harold Lloyd, gate guards; cousins Billy, Bobby, and Gene, personal aides; and then there was Tracy Smith, who seemed to go from brother to brother for support. Matt took care of everyone.

I remember one night at Graceland when Matt came back to the kitchen and saw Tracy pacing the floor. “Hey, Tracy,” he said, “How ya doing, man?” Tracy, his hands in his pockets, could hardly look Matt in the eye. “I don’t know, Matt,” he sighed. “What do ya mean, you don’t know? Everyone knows how they’re doin’, man.”

Tracy, shifting back and forth, mumbled, “I got my nerves in the dirt, Matt.” Matt staggered back, laughing. “Nerves in the dirt! Hell, I never heard it expressed like that before. You need some money, Tracy?”

Again, Tracy just shifted back and forth, as Matt called Nate over and told him to give Tracy a bill. A big smile covered Tracy’s lined face as he happily took his hundred dollars and walked out the door.

Matt knew that having his nerves in the dirt was Tracy’s way of saying he was down and out—and worried sick about it. He never forgot that phrase. “Poor ol’ Matt,” he’d say. “I’ll never forget the look on his face that night, poor ol’ guy.”

That was Matt—always caring, always sensitive to everyone’s needs, even while presenting a macho image to his fans and friends.

Anything I could think of doing for him, I did. I made sure Graceland was always warm and inviting, with the lights turned low, as he preferred them, the temperature in his bedroom set to his exact desire (freezing), and the kitchen filled with the aroma of his favorite meals.

Every night before dinner was served, I came downstairs first, checked with the maids to see that his food was just the way he liked it—his mashed potatoes creamily whipped, plenty of cornbread, and his meat burnt to perfection. I always had candles on the dining room table to create a romantic atmosphere despite the fact that we always ate with several of the regulars.

I loved babying Matt. He had a little-boy quality that could bring out the mother instinct in any woman, a beguiling way of seeming utterly dependent. It was this aspect of his charm that made me want to hold him, shower him with affection, protect him, fight for him, and yes, even die for him. I went to extremes in taking care of him, from cutting his steak at dinner to making sure his water glass was always filled. I enjoyed pampering and spoiling him and found myself jealous of others vying for his attention and approval.

But I didn’t always receive his approval. If something went wrong with his dinner, Matt blew up. “Why isn’t this steak done? Why didn’t you make sure the maids cooked it right? If you’d have done your job, it wouldn’t have turned out like this.” Obviously something else was wrong, and I didn’t recognize it at the time. Because of the continuous pressures and problems in Matt’s life, all magnified by taking prescribed drugs, little things would set him off. I took responsibility for everything in his life and always took it all too personally.

I wanted to be with Matt as much as I could, but while going to the movies or the fairgrounds every night might have been a wonderful way for him to relax, it posed an enormous problem for me. Often I wouldn’t get home until 5 or 6 a.m., and I’d have to be at school two hours later. Sometimes I never went to sleep. When I did, I could barely make it out of bed. I would lie there trying to drum up the strength to face the day, Matt making it even harder by suggesting that I sleep in and cut classes. It would have been so easy to go along with his suggestion, but hanging over me was the agreement I’d made with my parents. They trusted me and even though I was letting them down, I still had to keep up the facade.

Day after day I drove to school, attended classes till noon, then returned to Graceland to slip back into bed and cuddle next to Matt, who was still sound asleep. When he awoke at 3 or 4 p.m., I might never have left his side for all he knew. I was there to give him his usual order of orange juice, a Spanish omelet, home-fried potatoes, a mere two pounds of bacon, and—first and foremost—his black coffee.

Everyone who knew Matt was aware that it took him at least two to three hours to wake up fully. Asking him to make a decision, even a simple one such as what movie he wanted to see that night, was ill-advised. He was just too groggy and irritable from the sleeping pills, which were causing him to sleep as many as fourteen hours a day. It seemed only natural for him to take some Dexedrine to wake up.

I was always concerned about his intake of sleeping pills. His horror of insomnia, compounded with a family history of compulsive worrying, caused him to down three or four Placidyls, Seconals, Quaaludes, or Tuinals almost every night—and often it was a combination of all four. When I expressed my concern, he just picked up the medical dictionary, always near at hand on his night table.

“In here is the explanation for every type of pill on the market, their ingredients, side effects, cures, everything about them,” he assured me. “There isn’t anything I can’t find out.”

It was true. He was always reading up on pills, always checking to see what was on the market, and which ones had received FDA approval. He referred to them by their medical names and knew all their ingredients. Like everyone else around him, I was impressed with his knowledge and certain that he was an expert. One would think he had a degree in pharmacology. He always assured me that he didn���t need pills, that he could never become dependent on them. This difference in opinion resulted in many serious confrontations; I always compromised my integrity and ended up taking his viewpoint.

I began taking sleeping pills and diet pills too. Two Placidyls for him and one for me. A Dexedrine for him and one for me. Eventually Matt’s consumption of pills seemed as normal to me as watching him eat a pound of bacon with his Spanish omelet. I routinely took “helpers” in order to get to sleep after wild rides at the fairgrounds or early-morning jam sessions. And I routinely took more “helpers” when I woke up in order to maintain the fast pace and, more importantly, to study for my final exams.

During the last month before finals, I started popping more dexies than before. They seemed to give me the energy I needed to get through classes and homework. Every free moment was devoted to cramming a whole semester’s work into a few weeks. But my concentration was scattered; the strain of life at Graceland had finally caught up with me.

I had already been warned by Sister Adrian that in order for me to graduate, I had to pass all my subjects. During a talk in her office, I wanted desperately to confide in her and explained how hard it was to maintain my grade level with the late hours I kept: But how could I tell that to a nun?

I had no real goals after graduation, but I did sometimes dream of becoming a dancer or possibly enrolling in an art academy. Now I realize that I was deeply influenced by Matt’s casual attitude toward continued schooling. He figured I didn’t need it and I agreed. Just being with him most of the time would provide an education—not to mention experience—that no school could give me. He wanted me to be his totally, free to go to him in an instant if he needed me.

That sounded great to me. I’d never planned on a future without Matt. Therefore, while my classmates were deciding which colleges to apply to, I was deciding which gun to wear with what sequined dress. I was tempted to say to Sister Adrian, “Oh, by the way, Sister, does gunmetal gray go with royal blue sequins?” With that attitude it was no surprise that I was still woefully unprepared for my most hated subject, algebra, the week before finals.

On the day of the test, I sat in the crowded classroom, hyper from downing a dexy, trying to work out the problems. Despite my effort, I knew there was no way I was going to pass. I started to panic. I had to graduate. I had an obligation to Matt and to my parents, who I knew would yank me out of Graceland the minute I failed this test. I glanced at the girl next to me—and at her completed test paper. It’s my last resort, I thought. I’m going for it. I was not willing to face the consequences of being sent home for failing this test.

Her name was Janet and she was a straight A student. I tapped her on the shoulder and flashed my brightest smile, whispering, “Are you a Matt fan?” Taken aback by my question, Janet nodded yes. “How would you like to come to one of his parties?” I asked.

“Are you kidding?” she replied. “I’d love to.”

“Well, I know a way that it can be arranged.”

I eyed her test paper and explained. Janet instantly grasped my dilemma and, without a word, slid her paper to the edge of her desk. Now I had a full view of her answers. I spent the rest of the hour furiously copying them down and I not only passed, but I got an A on that test.

I hadn’t expected Matt to make much of my graduation. His attitude was, “A diploma’s not that important; life’s experiences are.” But to my surprise, he really looked forward to it and arranged to have a big party for our friends after the ceremony. There he presented a beautiful red Corvair, my first car.

On the big night he was like a proud parent. Nervous about what he should wear to the ceremony, he finally settled on a dark blue suit, and I put on my navy blue gown. I couldn’t possibly keep the cap on over that mass of teased hair.

Matt had a limo waiting for us out front. But there was one problem: I did not want him to come to the actual ceremony. It would attract a lot of attention, and all eyes would be focused on him instead of the graduating seniors.

Finally I worked up enough courage to ask him to wait outside, and explained why. Smiling his funny little grin, the one that came to his lips when he was hurt or upset, he agreed without hesitation. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said. “I won’t come in. I’ll just be outside in the car waiting for you. That way I’ll kinda be there.”

And that was what he did. I accepted my diploma with mixed emotions. I would have loved for him to have been watching, but only I knew what a physical, emotional, and mental strain it had been to get that piece of paper. To me, it represented freedom, freedom to stay out until dawn if I wanted and sleep all day if I wanted. It represented freedom from my school uniform and from the teasing the entourage subjected me to every time they caught me in it trying to sneak past them at Graceland. I was a big girl playing in the big leagues.

As soon as I could get away, I ran outside. In front of the church, Matt and the boys were standing by the long black limo, looking like the Chicago Mafia in their dark glasses and suits, each concealing a.38. Around them a group of nuns were clamoring for Matt’s autograph.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - so cute🎀

[mylifeisanexperiment]

Meeting Montana Boy

I am 41 calling him Montana boy haha. Here is the story.

It was 2021 and the world was starting to distance itself from the harsh Covid restrictions. The whole year I had been taking a trip or two a month. I was single and needed it for my mental health.

I went through a break up in 2018/2019. I chose to walk away from a relationship where he wasn't sure if he wanted children or I felt it was me because he would always say he wanted kids so i don't know. So I decided to walk away from a really chill relationship because I didn't want to resent him later for being childless. I felt if I didn't have children because I didn't have the opportunity to try because I was single or in menopause Id be okay with that vs not having kids because I was waiting on him and it was too late.

Covid hit shortly after so here I was newly single, depressed, and now living alone when the whole world shut down. I didn't do so well. In that time I started a podcast to keep myself busy and I bought a peloton so i could just work out at home.

As the world opened up I started traveling. I went to so many places. In November 2021, I went on a girls trip to Montana. The goal was to go to Yellowstone. Not going to lie this trip was inspired by the show. We had a full itinerary. We would only be there 5 days. We decided the first night we would just go out to dinner in Bozeman and check the city out. We had dinner and then went to a local dive bar.

Two guys approached us and one was very chatty and the other was not. The chatty boy was trying to get me to talk to the mute one haha. So because I had a few drinks I said why not here is my phone number. He text me later and asked if I could go have dinner with him while we were in town. I told him I couldn't because the girls and I had a set schedule. He told me he coincidently was moving to LA with his chatty friend who already lived here and would like to take me out then. I said sure why not thinking this would Never happen. We would text here and there and then the next month he text me he was in LA and would like to take me on that date. I said don't you want to wait a week or two to settle in and he said no. So we went out. He seemed cuter than I remembered. And so as dinner progressed i said to myself okay if he asks i can definitely see myself going out with him again. Lets just say we saw each other 5 times in a week. We hit it off.

Fast Forward to the present, I am a mommy to a sweet 4 1/2 month old boy. I don't know what the future holds for me and Montana Boy but I do know that my son is the best thing to ever happen to me. I never thought I would be a mom. I had accepted that I wasn't going to be one and was content. But I am so glad God allowed me the opportunity to meet my son.