#i like their friendship in general but i just wanna mention this scenario

[nonbinary-sticks-the-badger]

🎉 ik team sonic is basically an abstract concept at this point so this post is based on the sonic heroes version! 🎉

i like it where there's sonadow, knuxouge and then tails and omega have a strong bond for no reason other than 'well if they're all dating we may as well be friends.' there's a team dark/sonic meetup every week and so they just became friends over 'this is so boring we may as well be friends tbf

[sailoryooons]

Boyfriend Material | jjk (m)

☾ Pairing: Hockey Player!Jungkook x f. Reader 

☾ Summary: Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material – except when he is.  

☾ Word Count: 2,127

☾ Genre: FWB, Hint of Angst, Smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Friends with benefits who are very obviously pretending not to have feelings, being in a confusing relationship that is basically a relationship without titles, feelings of confusion and self-doubt, lying to oneself, mentions of some toxic interactions with other people/women, repressed feelings, explicit sexual content including oral (f. receiving) in the shower, honestly, in general, some very cliche/stereotypical conflict you’d find in a relationship with someone of status 

☾ Published: March 23, 2024

☾ A/N: This is a self-insert of one of the most confusing relationships I have ever had in my life and I will die on the hill that no one should date athletes because 98% of them are the rule, not the exception no matter how much they seem like it! TRAUMA!!! Also, should I have been dating a professional athlete for the sport I worked in? No!!!! This is for all the people who have been in a not-relationship-that-is-a-relationship why the fuck do people do that like it is okay to have feelings and call ur partner ur partner?? 

☾ A/N 2: This is drabble number six for the Drabble Challenge that I have been utterly failing at! Today I rolled for ‘athlete’ but I didn’t feel like writing actual sports so I was like :) I worked in sports for ten years, I can just share a glimpse of my life when I was 23 years old :) Enjoy 

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Song Inspiration

“Fuck, I’m so tired,” Jungkook groans, leaning back in the chair and stretching his arms. Sun beats down on his golden skin. You feel the heat of it on your back and the top of your head. It’s pleasant, the cool spring breeze threatening to send the napkins on the table running. “Wanna lay out at the pool?”

Finishing the rest of your coffee, you nudge the empty plate away from you. Where once an eggs benedict had stood is now smears of leftover yolk and a single onion you missed when eating your hashbrowns. 

“Not sick of me?” you ask, raising a brow. 

Jungkook isn’t looking at you, scrolling on his phone. The bill of his hat is pulled low, hiding most of his face as he squints down at the device held low in his lap. You wait patiently for his answer, running your finger up and down the now-empty glass as it sweats from the sun. 

“Nope,” he answers, popping the end of the word sharply. “Did you ever get your desk fixed? Yoongi said he would fix it if not.”

“I have not.” 

He nods. “He said he’ll swing by this afternoon. We can lay out at the pool at my place and then head to yours after?” 

Your mouth twitches. You don’t say it out loud because you don’t want to risk him backing out, but another full day spent with Jungkook is a surprise to you. Not because it doesn’t happen often – it does. But rather because it keeps happening more often.

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material. He’d established that the first night he met you at a bar. Him being a professional athlete was a warning sign enough that you didn’t want to romance that but what had come afterward has been nothing short of surprising. 

Friendship and… well. You don’t know how to explain the extras. 

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material. But you do your groceries together on the weekend. You drop him off at the arena when they’re heading out for a road trip. You take him to doctor's appointments to monitor the knee injury from last season. 

You’re not Jungkook’s girlfriend but he takes you to team events. He lets himself in and does your laundry at your apartment while you’re at work so you don’t have to do it when you come home. He has his teammates fix furniture for you and they’ve asked you to babysit their kids. 

“Babe?” the endearment makes you blink a few times, realizing you’d been staring into your lap. Jungkook’s dark eyes are focused on you now, phone shoved into his pocket. “We don’t have to go to the pool. We can just nap.”

We. Not you. Jungkook is going to hang out with you regardless if you like his original idea or not. Your stomach flips in that way you hate, the way that you know you’re doing everything you said you wouldn’t.

“Sounds good.” 

Jungkook flashes a grin and you become acutely aware that thinking you could be friends with benefits without being anything more was a stupid idea. Jungkook is not made to be resisted, with round eyes that darken when he’s turned on, a giggle that contrasts with the big, broad-shouldered athlete built, a smile that lights up the room and can dispel any tension, a sweet voice that can tempt anyone the moment he pouts or when he decides to pur. 

You were fucked - literally and figuratively - that first night you let him in your apartment. 

Instead of thinking about it, you hide from the truth. Again. Jungkook is not boyfriend material, despite the fact that he pays for breakfast despite your protests, and reaches over the center console in the car to squeeze your thigh. 

“Mmm,” he hums, fingers skating over your flash and making you squirm in the passenger seat. “Warm.”

“I was sitting in the sun.”

“I like it.”

Jungkook likes a lot about you. He tells you all the time, very open about how he likes the way you taste, likes the way you organize your books by color, likes the way you sing in the shower, likes the way you speak in Star Wars quotes. 

Perhaps that’s what makes you the most wary about him. He says he’s not boyfriend material, but his actions betray his words. And you let them, every single time. 

Jungkook smells like sunscreen, sweat, and a little bit of his cologne from earlier that morning. You’re hyperaware of him as you lounge on the cabana bed together, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his firm body. 

His tattooed arm is tossed over his eyes, blocking out the sun as he snores a little. Careful not to knock into him, you lean over him and grab his phone to check the time. You haven’t been lounging in the sun long, but you don’t want him to get a sunburn.

Again. 

You wager you can stay a little longer, placing the phone back down under his discarded shirt where it can hide from the sun’s heat. Sitting back in your spot, you pick up your book from your sweaty thighs as the sound of the gate to the pool yard opening catches your attention. 

Some of Jungkook’s teammates live in the same apartment complex. It’s easier that way, especially for the players who get sent up and down from the minors. You catch a few of the younger players with a few girls you don’t know the name of tugging a cooler on wheels behind them with a speaker blaring. 

Jungkook doesn’t so much as move. He can sleep through anything – has slept through you falling into his gaming setup while trying to get to the bathroom drunk. His slumbering leaves you to watch them head to the beds a few over from yours. 

One of the girls notices you. You don’t recognize her specifically, but she recognizes Jungkook. Looks back at you. Frowns and mutters something to one of the other girls, who is not very subtle as she cranks her head around in your direction. 

You don’t wince anymore. It’s not an uncommon thing, among these circles. You refuse to engage with any of it. You used to tell yourself it was because a casual whatever-Jungkook-is simply isn’t worth the drama. At night, you know you don’t engage with it because you don’t want to know. 

Ignorance is bliss, especially in this dangerously plastic world Jungkook exists in. 

Thankfully, you’re not alone in the matter. Jimin appears out of thin air, dropping down on the empty bed next to you. Namjoon – arguably Jimin’s better half and team captain – is nowhere to be found. Jimin lowers his shades and looks beyond you to the group of now rowdy players. 

“Gross,” he huffs. He slides his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and stretches out on the bed like a cat. Jimin doesn’t play, but he certainly has the body of an athlete, all fine lines and corded muscle. “Ignore them.”

“I was doing that already.” You lift your book as if to prove yourself.

He snorts. “You were thinking about it, be honest.” Your silence is answer enough and Jimin grins, lacing his hands behind his head as he tilts toward the sun. “Don’t let Jungkookie burn again.”

“I’m not,” you huff before snapping your book shut. Jimin is in the circle of player’s partners that you genuinely enjoy, but he has the keen ability to get under your skin and tell you all of the truths that you don’t want to be voiced out loud. Still, having him on your side has more benefits than just keeping the hyenas away from you. He’s also genuinely nice when he wants to be. “Jungkook, wake up.”

The man mumbles and turns his head away from you. You sigh heavily, squeezing his strong, very sweaty arm gently. “Come on, you’re gonna burn if you stay out here any longer.”

“Mm. Feels nice.”

“A sunburn won’t feel nice.”

“You can rub aloe all over me.”

“I will not.”

“Just five more minutes.”

“Jeon.” 

He drops his arm from his eyes, squinting in the bright light at you. His hair is damp with sweat and hangs in his eyes. He’s been growing it out longer and longer, especially since Seokjin keeps encouraging Jungkook by telling him he has the best flow on the team. 

“So you don’t want to rub aloe all over me?”

“You don’t need to get sunburned for me to touch you, Jungkook.”

“Bleh,” Jimin grunts. 

That makes Jungkook sit up, rolling his shoulders and twisting to pop his back. He sighs for a moment, closing his eyes as though willing himself to get up. When he opens them again, there’s a light in them and he smirks, looking you up and down.

“Wanna shower?”

Your mouth twitches and you roll your eyes to hide how much you want to shiver. “Come on,” you sigh, getting up, the fabric of the sunbed clinging to your sweaty skin. 

Eyes cling to you as you pull the sundress over your head and slide your sandals on. You don’t have to glance over at the mini-party a few sunbeds over to know you’re being watched. You suppose they’re watching Jungkook more than anything, but you’re in direct view behind him, grabbing your book. 

You know Jungkook notices them. He says nothing, though. Instead, he offers his hand out when you shove all your belongings in a bag, wanting to carry it. You grin and hand it over to him, smile growing as he shoulders it easily and offers his hand again, this time for you to take.

And you do take it. Perhaps the satisfaction that thrums through you as he leads you out of the pool yard and onto the deck that crosses the lake toward his apartment building is a little bit insidious. You don’t care. The momentary triumph that you shouldn’t be feeling at all is far too powerful and Jungkook’s hand is far too warm and safe in yours to care about why you feel good about the public display of affection.

It isn’t like he hasn’t done it before. Jungkook isn’t shy with others in front of you. It’s what makes the whole thing worse, somehow. Because Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he introduces you to people and friends and slides between your legs to lean on you when you’re sitting on a barstool. He holds your hand when you go on a lunch and shopping spree with your mom and he brings her coffee and flowers. 

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but you don’t care when the shower hits the warm skin and runs down your back as he presses your chest to the cold shower wall in front of you. The cool stone stings against your nipples, over-sensitive and sending a shiver down your spine as your eyes flutter shut. 

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he curses low under the sound of the shower as he pries your legs apart, tongue seeking the heat between them hungrily. Your mouth falls open as Jungkook’s tongue licks you soft-slow, lips sucking gently against your clit. 

“Shit,” you hiss. The difference in temperatures between the hot water and the cold wall makes the room spin. Steam makes it harder to breathe, your head pleasure-dizzy as Jungkook laughs and rolls his tongue lazily around your dripping cunt. “Fuck.”

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he eats you out slow and hungry. He doesn’t care that the water starts to lose its warmth as his mouth works you, smacking his lips loudly and moaning, vibrations going straight to your core where you drip on his soft tongue. 

His hands grip your ass, fingers digging into the flesh as he pries you apart further, tongue delving into your aching hole. He slurps at you, mouth loud and sticky over the sound of your panting and the water hitting the tile floor. His little hums of appreciation buzz through you, making the room spin.

“Fuck,” you whisper, pressing your cheek to the wet, cold stone as you try to ground yourself. You twist an arm backward, gripping Jungkook’s wet hair. He lets out a loud groan in appreciation, always pleased when you pull on his hair. “Don’t stop.”

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he does whatever you want him to. His tongue delves in, working you to orgasm until you’re shaking against the wall, knees knocking together and nearly collapsing on him. He catches you easily, standing and pressing you against the wall as he grabs your chin and brings your mouth toward him, his to devour.

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material. 

But more than anything, you want him to be. 

[hazbinsponsoredbyvee]

Mel, why do you like staticapple? Just a general question because it's definitely one of the more rare pairings since they don't actually interact with the show and many Radioapple/Radiostatic fans often depict them in a battle trying to win Alastor's affections so I wanna know what about it drew you into it?

So, this is a bit of a long story, and I've been drinking, so I might ramble. I'll start with I'm not into RadioApple. I have honestly tried because I love enemies-to-lovers, but I just don't see it, no matter how hard I try.

Now, Lucifer and Vox are both among those tied for my favorite character, and so I spend a lot of time thinking about them both. If I remember correctly, I was thinking about how two of my favorite characters hate Alastor and them bonding over that fact if they met, and then I went on to think about how Vox being the opportunist that he is would definitely try to win favor with the King of Hell, and Lucifer would just eat up the attention. And that's where it started to turn into a crack ship.

I very jokingly came up with a scenario of Alastor and Vox starting to rekindle their friendship, but Alastor being the asshole that he is, doesn't actually care to show up on time when they were supposed to meet at the hotel. Lucifer ends up being there, so Vox complains to him, they share a few drinks, and end up making out. Alastor walks in on this and gets all jealous, but Vox is just like "Ha! Should've valued my time, bitch!" and leaves with Lucifer.

Well, that scenario stuck with me and evolved until I eventually started plotting a whole ass fic - again fully thinking of it as a crack fic. But then I started plotting out their interactions. And I thought about how they both have a passion for creating things, and they would admire each other for that; I headcanon them both as ADHD (Lucifer as AuDHD), and they would totally relate to each other in the way they hyperfocus on their projects; and they're both starved for touch and attention, with neither of them capable of doing things halfway, so they would inevitably end up completely devoted to each other. And suddenly I wasn't so sure it was crack anymore.

I started consuming StaticApple content (though still not as much as RadioStatic, I'll admit), and that funny, crack scenario I mentioned above evolved into my not-at-all crack fic, Red with Envy.

And then I realized that while enemies-to-lovers is definitely my favorite trope (bonus if it's friends-to-enemies-to-lovers), I do have a second-favorite romantic trope that I've never seen labeled before. I'll call it assumptions-to-friends-to-lovers. For me, this harkens back to Supernatural, with my main ship being drowley (enemies-to-lovers), and my secondary ship being sastiel (assumptions-to-friends-to-lovers).

Essentially, Person A is prepared to not like Person B (Lucifer's very prejudiced against Sinners/Castiel sees Sam as 'the boy with the demon blood'), but is surprised when they meet them to find that Person B was not at all what they expected. Person A gives them a chance, despite their preconceived notions, and find that they actually relate to Person B in a few ways. They become close and end up falling in love. Once I realized that, I came to the conclusion that it wasn't so surprising I ended up shipping StaticApple.

Thanks for the question!

[elvenbeard]

All you need is just some good, fucking music that you headbang to To forget all your problems and what's bothering you So c'mon, raise the volume, it will still feel good Alright, alright, alright ("Good Fucking Music" - Solence)

I think we all know that feeling when you hear a song and immediately imagine all the scenarios in your head? Yeah, this is one of those! I mentioned I wanna do a little bit more with Vince's and Judy's friendship. Because, lesbian-gay-solidarity <3 And me just loving Judy sm in general xD

Like, Judy and Vince are two people that would probably have never met, hadn't it been for Evelyn and the heist, so different their backgrounds and social circles. But what instantly connected them was that they're both nerds for tech-stuff. In some ways, they really mirror each other so nicely, in others they contradict each other, and it's this equilibrium and balance that I really love about their dynamic. Judy gets Vince down from his high horse, making him reconsider some of his views, and Vince looks out for her to not bite off more than she can chew when picking her battles, backing her up. And they have a similar taste in music, too! When you drive with Judy in her van, she's listening to Radio Vexelstrom, and in her apartment Johnny comments on her band posters disapprovingly ("Blergh, Electropunk" or sth like that XD). Both of these are instances of what Vince also enjoys, music-wise. So, while I don't necessarily see Judy as someone who goes out to dance and party much, maybe he did convince her some time to come along to a themed night at a club with some favourite bands of theirs in the playlist. Cause sometimes you just need to dance to some loud angry music with your friends for a couple of hours to forget how shitty everything else is.

Also: Judy's custom clubwear outfit for AMM

[matan4il]

If Buddie does go canon (and I'm manifesting this HARD), do you thinnt hat Ryan and Oliver will have been told that their character is in love with the other well before official canon, to help with the acting and the build up? I just love the idea that they both think their character is super in love and are trying to act it while pretending to the other that they're "just bros" cause they don't know the other actor is aware yet

Hi darling, so good to hear from you again! ^u^ How are you?

Yes, whenever a couple goes canon for sure, the actors would be told about it in advance, and at least in some cases, they'd be told even before going canon was a certainty, just in the sense of letting them know that this is an option that the show runners wanna keep open, so the acting has to match different possibilities. If you wanna see a BRILLIANT performance intentionally meant to make more than one interpretation possible, watch The General's Daughter. I don't wanna spoil it, but there's a character there intentionally played like that and it's absolutely terrific (not to mention, that show has two of my favorite examples of interplay between soundtrack and motion on screen. The movie isn't perfect, but those bits are).

In the case of Ryan and Oliver, I think there's a chance they were told from early on Buddie happening is a possibility, though I don't think they were told it's a certainty. So they were meant to play them in a way that lends itself to this reading, without committing to it. To me, this scenario would explain why they seemed to have embraced Buddie on a personal level, yet have not given any committed answers whenever they're asked to talk about it. Supportive, but not confirming. I also think they realized early on that Buddie would be really liked, so they were happy to play into it. I don't think one would be told, but not the other, just in the sense of I can't believe anyone would see the friendship they struck up and would assume it's a good thing to have them keep stuff from each other. They main times when this is done is when wanting to achieve the effect of portraying an unrequited love (the most famous example being Ben Hur, where one actor was told to portray his character as in love with the other one, while the other actor was kept in the dark. And yes, they were both men. If you watch the movie, you’re watching a part of the birth of gay subtext in American cinema). If Buddie goes canon, I don't think it would be in the unrequited love fashion. That's canon as well (as Supernatural has demonstrated), but I fully believe if 911 lets Buddie go canon, it will also let their love be reciprocal and get a happy ending.

I hope this helped, hon... Have a wonderful day! As always, here's my ask tag. xoxox

[cerealmonster15]

📓heya cereal!! :D would love to hear about one of your daydream fic ideas

[referring here]

puts my hands together hmmmmm i was trying to keep it dndads themed for u and isa since thats our 🤝 mutual interest, but the only other one thats coming to mind was one i already talked about a while ago in the tags of this sketch i did about the angsty lovesong fic concept, and i feel like im cheating if i just repeat all that fjkdflsdj hmmmmm

OH i guess i do daydream scenarios for grantterry lol. this is less concrete and more generic grantterry vibes ksljfs but i think like, post yeet rejection and also The Trauma, grant's kinda Goin Thru It and terry's in more of a stable place comparatively speaking, both from where he himself was at the start and compared to where grant's at. so i think there's a lot of potential there for terry to kinda be that stabilizing shoulder for grant to lean on. when yeet did ask if grant had anyone he felt like he could talk to, he had mentioned "maybe terry jr" and even tho he seemed hesitant, i think he could in time open up to him. terry isnt as wild as the twins, and the whole thing with nick -> narcolas -> nicky going to hell is Complicated jkdsfkl.

anthony described them as play fighting together in i think the epilogue or something and terry's the one that went over to check on grant in,,, some episode kfkjsdl i forget the context. but my POINT HERE, im really just talking about them as a concept LOL but like. i see them as forming a really solid close friendship that maybe grant is hesitant to go beyond with at first bc Rejection Hurts and terry is his closest friend and he really doesnt wanna mess things up with him!!! meanwhile terry has also Developed Feelings but is trying so hard to be cool and chill and normal about it. i often like to doodle him and nicky being buddies so it's my fave concept to have wingman nicky and nosy twins on the side bc i love friendship soup lol. perhaps nicky and the twins are the ones to give their besties the push they need into CONFESSING!!!

[easypeasylindyvesey]

I Think it’s Strange We Never Knew: Jimmy Vesey x fem!OC

Summary: After the unforeseen death of Abby’s boyfriend, one of the NHL’s star defenseman and her teammate, she severely struggles with managing her grief. She confides in Jimmy Vesey, who is not only another teammate of hers, but is one of the very few people she has a strong friendship with. That is until that night and the days that followed. Does this life-altering news change the trajectory of their personal perceptions of each other? Or does it entail a chance of crossing boundaries for the risk of moving on?

Word Count (excluding title and heading): 10,205

*(General) Warnings: (foul) language, mentions/discussion of death, suicide attempt (brief, closed door description), eventual confession of feelings, grief, panic attack(s), angst, eventual sexual implications but no smut, age gap

*Note: This story takes place in the future. Abby is 24-25 and Jimmy is 33-35.

JUNE 2027 (Warnings: (foul) language, mention/discussions of death)

They say life will throw you one curveball after another, without warning, without any time to prepare, without anticipation and any chance to adjust. I guess you could say this is what losing Ryan has felt like: the death, then the wake, then the funeral, then the isolation, then the arguments, even more isolation, then the hospital, and now, my first day attending grief counseling.

I spend forever in my room figuring out what to wear. What type of clothes do you put together in these types of circumstances? I’ll think one outfit is inappropriate, yet the other is not appropriate enough. Do I wear jewelry? Curl my hair? Layer my hormonal face in makeup? Wear heels? All this for a 45 minute session? Someone needs to give me an answer.

Settling with a white and blue striped tank top, white jeans, and my one and only pair of sandals that I rarely ever wear, I keep my hair down and put on a minimal amount of jewelry. I don’t want to draw too much attention to myself. I look around my room before grabbing my purse that was hanging off the back of the door and make my way out into the living room.

Jimmy’s finished loading the dishwasher and turns around to clean the counter. He looks at me, trying to give a supportive smile. “You ready?”

I sway from side to side. “I’m nervous.”

“It’s normal to be nervous.”

Yeah, let’s see, have you ever tried therapy?

“I don’t wanna pour my heart out to a stranger.”

He drops the cleaning rag on the counter. “Don’t think of it like that. No one said you had to. You’re not obligated to tell them everything. Just try to be honest when they ask you those questions. It’s fairly recent. I’m sure they’ll understand if you can’t respond to everything.”

I nod. “Yeah, I hope so.”

“You want any advice?”

“If it’ll ease the pounding in my chest, then yeah, go for it.”

“Remember that they’re only asking you certain things because they need to figure out what approach will work best. It’s only to be beneficial, not harmful.”

Okay, so he’s totally not wrong.

“Thanks.” I reply.

“Yeah, always,” he concludes. “You gotta get going or you’ll be late. You know the address and who you’re seeing, right? I know that I made the appointment for you, but I wasn’t sure if you’d need a refresher.”

I shake my head. “No, I got it.” I start walking to the door to exit the apartment. “Enjoy your alone time.”

He sends me a peace sign from across the room. Such a dork. “Can’t wait to hear about it.”

I can only manage a grimace before I open the door and shut it behind me. I don’t lock it because I know he’ll do it anyway. I make a left and stop at the inverted area where the elevator is. It’s the same routine: press the down button, get in, press the 1 button, doors close, look around in silence and fear the worst case scenario of getting trapped (this time, I don’t), doors open, and out I walk into the lobby, out the main doors, and into the parking lot to find my car. Once I flag it down, I get in, start the engine, and take a moment to exhale a dramatic sigh. Okay, moment’s over. I can’t waste any more time. I move into drive and exit out of my parking spot and out onto the main road in no time.

Since this action itself could not be denied in any way, and I considered it his act of service to advocate for me (I’m currently avoiding the world help because just the thought of it makes me feel dragged down), the one thing I asked of him is to not attend any of these sessions, and that includes driving me there. I’m currently scheduled for one 45 minute session every week. I wanted to do half an hour, but Jimmy thought I’d benefit more with just the slightest bit of extra time, and definitely not an hour because it’s too much. He said that he would pay for them until I get in the hang of it, and then I’ll take responsibility for it. It feels like numerous lifetimes since we’ve agreed on something.

I have reason to believe he’s still holding the tiniest of grudges since the hospital. It really did not occur to me how scared shitless he was. He’s always been one to be honest with his words while metaphorically slapping you across the face, telling you to get your shit together because he can’t bear to see you in any other mental state than not being happy and thriving. He’s helped me with cleaning my cuts and applying new bandages to them every day. We’ve started watching TV together and watching baseball, even though I think it is an absolute snoozefest. The conversation is not as awkward or restricted. I feel there’s a little more breathing room. It doesn’t take away from the fact that I’m convinced he still hates me. From what I can concur, he’s holding on by a thread until I do something even more catastrophic. I wish that I could take a pair of scissors and just let him break from its grip so he can free himself from the incessant worrying. I still don’t think that it’s doing him any good.

Speaking of the cuts, the swelling and redness have significantly gone down, but I still have to wear my bandages at least until the end of the week, and then I can liberate my wrists from them. The only time they’re not worn is when I wash my hands or take a shower. I can already tell they’re going to scar, but if anything, they’ll be light ones. Another way that Ryan can remain with me. After all, I did get to see him again, this time in better shape.

I finally arrive at the counseling center. I take a minute to sit and observe my surroundings before I go in. Staring until I zone out, I take a sip of the water bottle in my cup holder that has totally not been sitting there since I made the trip to Greenburgh. It’s warm, but it doesn’t expire. I’m playing on the risky edge again.

Without giving myself a second thought, I open up the door and step out into the parking lot, shutting the door behind me and walking to the other side in order to grab my purse. I shut the door again, lock the car, and slowly, yet surely, approach the front doors. Talking is easy, so, it should be easy, right?

I make it through the front doors, up to reception, check in, and sit down the furthest away from everyone else. There’s a tiny wooden table with decorative plants and magazines and personalized business cards. I feel like everyone’s looking at my wrists. Why are they covered up? What secrets does she have lying underneath them?

Something that I will not be able to successfully do is intentionally miss a session, not only because Jimmy’s got my future appointments written on a Post-It and held up by a magnet on the fridge, but because they’ll literally call the apartment and leave a message saying that I didn’t show up, and because they’re so fancy-shmancy, an absence fee will be charged, and he sure won’t be happy about that. I’ve taken a break from pissing him off and will use this time to hopefully make him feel more relaxed and in hopes that he can start to trust me again. He did say if I pulled that “thing” off, in which case I did, it would take him a long time for me to earn that back. I don’t think I’m even on my way yet. This is a good first step.

I’m startled by the sound of a woman emerging from the doorway in the corner and calling out my name. I take a quick look at her. She’s got blonde hair and glasses, wearing a lavender pantsuit with matching heels. And yet I was afraid of feeling like I would overdress.

I follow behind her and into what I assume is her office. Surprisingly, it’s very big. It’s got a long desk, spinny chair, a couch, a large ass window that oversees the back parking lot, separate chairs across from her desk, and lots of certificates. So she’s smart and going to pick my brain apart? Sounds fab!

The woman takes a seat behind her desk and gives me a little smile. “I’m Dr. Meadows,” she begins. “It’s nice to meet you, Abby. Take a seat wherever you’d like.”

I choose to sit in front of her because if I pick the couch, I’m not gonna make the effort to maintain eye contact. I have to force myself to do this. That starts with the hard conversation.

Dr. Meadows reaches for a file on her desk. In all certainty, I would guess that it’s mine. I don’t know what would even be in it. Maybe the death certificate of my heart?

“I want to spend this first session discussing why you’re here, how you think this counseling would benefit you, perhaps open you up to future options you’d like to pursue. Why don’t we start with the purpose of this visit? Have you ever been involved in grief counseling before?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“And what is the reason for being referred? It says in your file that you had a visit to New York Presbyterian on May 26th, where a Dr. Sanderson distributed several brochures on behalf of enrolling in grief counseling.”

I clear my throat. “Yes. Uh, my boyfriend passed away in March.”

She gives me a genuine look of sadness. “I’m so sorry for your loss. If you don’t mind me asking, what was the nature of his death?”

“Car accident. Guy that hit him was DUI. Got released on bail, no jail time. Still mad about that.”

“I can see why,” Dr. Meadows sympathizes. “You have every right to be. What was your boyfriend’s name?”

I sigh. “Ryan.”

“And what was Ryan like?”

Oh, boy, we could be here awhile.

“I can’t even give you a full description or we’d be here past 45 minutes,” I attempt to joke. “But he was great. Great friend, great man, great person, an even better boyfriend. We were friends for not even a full 6 months before we went out on our first date. He had the tough exterior, soft interior aspect. Out of all the people he knew, I was put first pretty much all the time, even though I’d always tell him to put me second so that he can be first, but I don’t think he wanted to follow that script. No, if any, rarely ever arguments or fights, had some trouble communicating his feelings but never took it out on me, made sure I always had what I needed. He made me feel proud to be his girlfriend, feel seen, actually feel wanted. I never felt like I had to worry about coming up short.”

She listens intently. “And how long were you two together?”

“One year and 10 months. Our two year anniversary would’ve been last month.”

“And how have you been dealing with this loss?”

What a unique question.

“Well, you tell me, since it’s all in my file.”

She leans forward in her chair, not in an intimidating way, but more of a sign to fully concentrate. “The only thing I know that’s in your file is that you attempted suicide the morning of May 26th and were rushed to the emergency room.”

Okay, never mind. Guess I’ll just tell her!

I sigh, tapping my fingers on my purse. “I moved in with one of my friends immediately after I got the news.”

“And what is this friend’s name?”

The wall clock ticks obnoxiously loud in my ear. “Jimmy.”

“And how does Jimmy treat you?”

He went behind my back and told the team about my panic attack. He pointed a knife at me. He likes to pick arguments just to rile me up. He thinks I’m a weight holding him down. He doesn’t trust me at all.

“He treats me just fine.”

It’s not a wholehearted lie. I’m tired of lying, anyway.

“Has he been there since Ryan’s death?”

“Yes.” Sometimes a little too much.

“How is he handling everything?”

“Well, he didn’t end up attempting to kill himself, so I’d say better than me.”

Dr. Meadows just stares at me before asking another question. “Has he been trying to assist you in easing everything that’s going on?”

“I keep telling him I don’t need it.”

“Why is that?”

“Because he’s trying to fix something that he can’t.”

“I see. And by the ‘something,’ you mean the relationship you had with Ryan?”

“Yes.”

“Are you afraid he wants to replicate it with you?”

I scoff. “Absolutely not. It’s never crossed my mind.”

“Are you afraid he’s trying to throw it away?”

“No, that’s what I’m doing.”

She taps the pen on her notepad. I see there’s nothing written down. “Why are you trying to throw it away?”

“Because I don’t want to deal with it anymore.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too tiring.”

“What exactly are you tired of?”

“I’m tired of everyone thinking they can do something to make sure the pain goes away when I know they’re just making it worse.”

“Do you think Jimmy’s at fault for that?”

Since when did this become a discussion about him? It’s supposed to be about me. I guess she’s asking in order to understand the current situation.

“Yes.”

“How so?”

“He’s always checking up on me, asking me if I’m okay, infiltrating my space, all of it. He was literally handcuffed to me at the wake and funeral, we shared a room in the hotel, shared an Uber back to the airport, and now we share an apartment. It’s like he can’t take the hint.”

“Have you been providing him with any?”

“Yeah, I’ve explicitly told him to stay away from me and give me that space that I’m asking for, and he still won’t do it.”

She nods. “Do you think he’s doing it in order to keep an eye on you, make sure he doesn’t end up feeling responsible for your actions?”

“He already feels responsible for the hospital. I bet he’s wishing that it did follow through.”

Now, she shakes her head. “I don’t think that. From what you’re telling me, he seems to care quite a lot. Could it be that you’re resistant to accepting what he’s willing to offer?”

I shrug my shoulders, focusing on the framed certificates behind her on the wall. “I guess so.”

“You need to change that thinking, and that starts with not worrying about what could go wrong, but rather what could go right when you listen to him, take his advice, whatever it is. You can’t deny that he wants to be there for you. And you’re right about him not being able to fix what your previous relationship had, but I think he wants to remind you about how much there is to look forward to, even with its absence.”

I open my mouth. “We’ll see how far that gets me.”

She looks at me, a combination of serious and sincere, just like Jimmy does on occasion. She reaches into her drawer and pulls out a pharmaceutical bag with a label on it. “I think we’ll start with an antidepressant, once a day for 30 days, and then by that session, we can evaluate and see if we’ll need to increase the dose, decrease it, maybe try something new. Along with that, I would begin communicating with Jimmy and keep it as a conversation rather than turning it into an argument. It’s not healthy for your relationship.”

Frenemies is a better word. 

I don’t have the energy to continue rebutting her points, so I spend the rest of the time listening to the approaches we’ll take moving forward, consisting of what we’ll discuss in our sessions and what we’ll pinpoint our focus on. She tells me to start the medication today and to try my best to take it at the same time each day. Of course, she’s heavy on how missing one day can affect the departure or remainder of some symptoms. She probably thinks of it as a tiny, microscopic pill that’s intended to be re-energizing, but I’m probably going to end up feeling like a deflated balloon.

When the session ends, as I walk out the doors I came through and back to the car, holding the bag in my hand, I feel like dropping it in the parking lot and abandoning it, maybe running it over just for fun. However, I don’t think he’d be convinced that I would come home without any medication. People that aren’t depressed don’t try to escape by razor blades.

I lightly drop it on the floor in front of the passenger seat and drive away. The experience wasn’t bad, but I just feel like it’s a little forced. I think it’s too soon. There’s not going to be a better time to talk to someone that isn’t him, but it’s still kinda new. I’ve been in “therapy” before, even though I wouldn’t categorize it as that. I wouldn’t say it positively contributed to my routine. There are just some instances where I won’t feel like talking and need my space. Unfortunately, this is not an instance that counts.

Back at the apartment, I sit in the parking lot for 15 minutes. I’m debating on how to start the conversation once I enter the door. I hope he knows it isn’t going to be filled with groundbreaking revelations. I also hope he doesn’t talk my ear off. Luckily, he’s been doing that less. Go, Jim, go!

With my surprising yet slight increase in courage, I find myself taking the elevator ride up to the 4th floor and get my keys out of my purse to unlock the door. If we aren’t in the apartment at the same time, we’ll just lock the bottom knob instead of securing the latch above. Obviously, it’s an easier way for us to get in. It’s also less raucous when one of us is banging on the door to be let in while the other’s gotta get up from where they were just to unsecure the latch. It can become annoying if you forget more than once.

The door opens and I quietly walk in, surveying the scene, if you will. Something’s already off.

I don’t see him.

Which is weird because almost 9 times out of 10, every time I’ve re-emerged through the door, he’s either been in the kitchen or on the couch. Today, he’s not. Unless he went out, and then I see his keys sitting on the counter, so definitely not. Where is he?

I hope he’s not lying on the floor in the bathroom, returning the favor.

The bathroom door is open, and the lights are off, so that’s a clear indicator no one has entered. Although, it doesn’t mean that anyone has exited.

But you know what other door is open? The one that leads to his room.

Bingo.

I walk past the island and strut toward my room, and then I hear a “Hey” that halts any further movement. I look into his room and see him with his laundry basket on the bed. It looks like he just went to get it because the basket is literally filled to the brim.

“Hi.”

He keeps his recently washed shirt in his right hand. “How was it?”

I shift my balance between both feet. “Fine.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Sure. I’ll just go change.”

If I’m strongly encouraged to listen to Dr. Meadow’s advice, I need to get into the habit of doing it now.

I change back into my pajamas and notice my full laundry basket sitting on the floor next to the nightstand. Nice that he thought of me, too. I’ll check to see if he’s “accidentally” mixed anything up later.

Walking my way back into his room, I want to make myself useful and help him fold and put away his laundry, but he pushes me away from it. “I got it, you just talk.”

I let out a large puff of air. “Uhh, okay, we talked about Ryan, obviously, and the changes that have happened and how I’m adjusting to them, and then we talked about you for a bit.”

Jimmy stops pairing his socks together and looks straight past my eyes and perhaps somewhere deeper. “Why were you, uh, why were you talking about me?”

“Because Dr. Meadows wanted to know a little more about the living situation; you know, if you’re treating me well, how you’re coping with everything, how I could improve myself around you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Improve yourself around me? What does that mean?”

“I told her that I’ve kinda been pushing you away and how I don’t need you to be my constant shadow. I admitted that I haven’t been giving myself the chance to listen to what you have to say and explain yourself, and she thinks that I need start to communicating better by not willing to turn every time we talk into a screaming fest. Oh, and I gotta take a happy pill everyday for the next month.”

He resumes putting away his laundry, walking over to the closet to retrieve a hanger. “Hey, whatever prevents us from another hospital trip.”

“Ha ha.”

I know it’s not funny, but I can’t help it. Nice to finally get to tease him again.

“So,” he continues, “am I gonna have to micromanage you taking those pills?”

I shake my head, even though his back is turned toward me. “Nope.”

He turns around. “You purposefully miss one day and you’re absolutely done for.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I mean it, Abb.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

He points at me. “Don’t fuck with me.” 

“Already did that.”

“Or I will call your parents and tell them to drive on down here so they can talk to you themselves.”

I scoff. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He shrugs. “I’ve got all the power with one press of a button.”

I’m starting to realize that from now on, if I do decide to go against his wishes, he won’t think twice about following through on what he says, let alone give me a second chance.

I lift up my hand and extend my pinky. “I promise.”

He quickly walks over and joins his own pinky with mine. “I promise.”

We leave our pinkies interlocked for a few moments. This time, neither of us can go back on our word. It’ll be a breach of trust. Then again, we’ve already breached it on more than one occasion. No outs.

By the time the contact ends, my pinky is left burning, and I know it’s from his body heat, but figuratively, it’s a symbol for this to be ingrained in my conversations with him moving forward.

Over the next week, I’ve fallen into I guess you could say a new routine. I wake up, do my skincare, have breakfast, and then take the pill. It’s easier to get it done at the beginning of the day and have it over with. Of course, I’m not able to ingest it without Jimmy tentatively watching me. So much for not micromanaging. Again, I’ve gotta earn his trust back. He’s not gonna hand it to me because he feels bad. I’m not sure what his feelings are right now. It’s probably a mix of anger and caution. I know once the pill is swallowed, he’ll either tell me I did a good job or do a quick nod and walk away. Other than that, nothing much has changed via our methods of communication.

I’ve started to go out a little bit more, whether taking a brisk walk around Downtown or picking up dinner. Whatever the task may be, I am for certain that I will return back to the apartment in one piece. In all seriousness, I hope he’s not worried about me going out and then intently running in front of a car. It’s not the first thing I think about while crossing the busy street. Although, if I do manage to notice any sort of pickup truck, the only thing I wish is that he’s actually driving around in one. Now that I mentioned it, what happened to his car? Was it so badly damaged that they had to tow it or even toss it in a junk yard? No one ever informed me about that. It’s been almost three months already. If someone had an answer, I probably would’ve known by now.

I mailed the Country Fest tickets back to his parents. I called them and said that it would be a shame if they didn’t go to use. Besides, I’m not in any mood to travel outside of New York right now. I know I have to get back in the habit once preseason starts in September, but I don’t think I’m fully ready yet. It’d be nice to take one summer trip. It doesn’t have to be extravagant; heck, it can be a drive upstate for literally just the weekend and I’d be okay with it. I’m a simplistic woman. You don’t have to go all out, but don’t just do the bare minimum. A combination of effort and spontaneity can go quite a long way with the right person. He excelled in both. But for anyone competing to match that combo, it’s going to be impossible.

The antidepressant does have noticeable side effects, of course, like mood swings, feeling more tired, once a day headaches that feel somewhat close to migraines, and a hindered ability to concentrate. I could literally be folding laundry and then get distracted by a bird passing through the trees, and then I’ll drop my shirt, leaving it to hang on the basket, walking out onto the balcony to see that the bird is long gone, so in order to distract myself, I focus on looking straight ahead instead of looking down. It’s not easy to just walk through the railing and fall literally 5, maybe 6 stories and plummet on the concrete, but it is easy to find a single gazing point and focus on that. It’s only until you realize that your laundry basket is still full of unfolded clothes that’s not gonna empty on its own. There have been times where Jimmy’s been talking to me about God-knows what and I fixate on any inanimate object in my vicinity, and when I don’t realize that I’m zoned out, he’ll touch my shoulder to check on me, and then I get startled and yell at him, only to apologize immediately after. He says it’s okay, but I think that’s just a new lie he’s come up with.

Grief counseling has been fine. I finished my second session, where Dr. Meadows and I talked more about how to sit with the uncomfortable feelings and to be aware of why we’re feeling them. I noted that there hasn’t been any “noticeable progress” with Jimmy, more that it’s stayed the same. There’s tension that’s invisible to the naked eye, but visible to those involved in it. I’ll leave it up to interpretation. I’ve been given the same two assignments: continue talking with him instead of at him, and keep popping the happy pill daily. She said the side effects will drift off with continued use, but at this point, I’m sure they’ll stay to inhibit any potential progress.

I came back from the session a couple hours ago, and we’re both lounging on opposite ends of the couch, watching a preview of the Yankees/Red Sox game tonight. He enjoys baseball for whatever reason, so I’ll happily waste my time with him, if that’s what he truly wants. It’s already late afternoon, so close to thinking about what we’ll do for dinner. I’m not going to intrude and ask him yet. I’ll just enjoy the silence that’s filtered out by the TV. If there’s one thing I feel relieved about, it’s that there’s no pressure to talk if we don’t want to. We can just enjoy what we’re doing, and if we feel the need to verbalize something, then we will. I know Harry Styles wouldn’t agree with the following point I’m about to make, but comfortable silence, in fact, is not overrated.

We order CAVA for dinner and watch the entirety of the game. There’s casual remarks made about certain calls and certain plays, but neither of us get completely distracted by the other. Once it’s over, I take care of the dishes and fill up my water bottle before walking into my room. That is until he stops me.

“Can we just talk real quick?” he says, leaning his left hand on the counter.

I turn around, my water bottle dangling from my hand. “Yeah.”

“I’m here if you need to talk. I don’t care if it’s noon or 3:00am and I’m fully asleep. Wake me up. I don’t want you to feel from now on that you can’t confide in anybody.”

I move my gaze to the floor.

“I know this entire situation is confusing and it’s scary, and you feel like nothing good is ever going to happen again, but getting back to where you were starts with the tiniest of steps, even if it’s just talking about it. Got it?”

I squeak it out. “Yeah.”

“I appreciate you talking to me about how everything’s going,” he continues. “It sounds like I’m being controlling, and maybe I am, but it’s for your own good, Abb. You can hate me all you want right now. That’s fine by me. I just want to make sure you’re going in the right direction. I’m always going to advocate for you, no matter the circumstance. Even if it’s incredibly dire, like this one. I will literally remind you 100 times if I need to until you start to believe it. You understand?”

I sigh quietly. “I do.” I turn around and walk toward my room. “Night.”

“Goodnight,” I hear him say as he motions to his room, both of us shutting our doors at the same time. The room is dark as I blindly make my way to the bed, tossing the pillows and almost knocking the lamp off the nightstand, but with my luck, it stayed standing. Crawling under the covers, I trick my brain into thinking about being back home on Long Island in my own space, with the LED lights on my walls, the familiar sound of the fan tuning out the noise throughout the house, the radio on my nightstand playing for an hour to help me drift off to sleep. I can’t do any of that here. The setting is just not right. When I’m at home, I’m barely awoken by anything in the middle of the night, with the exception of hearing my dad leave the house between 3 and 4 in the morning to go to work. I know one of the side effects included increased drowsiness, but for me, it’s the opposite. I’m constantly awake, either because of the outside traffic (yes, even in the early morning hours when normal people are trying to sleep) or my brain torturing me with the incessant torment of intrusive thoughts. If I go to bed immediately, maybe it’ll work.

But not tonight.

I sleep for a good 5 and a half hours while I zone out on the ceiling fan. It’s spinning, and I start thinking that it could easily fall on me and kill me that way. It’s a current representation of my mind. It just never seems to stop. It’s not fair that he’s sleeping, completely dead to the world in the next room. How is he not affected by this? It’s alarming. Maybe I’m not the only who needs counseling.

The sound of the fan irritates me to the point where I rush out of bed and open my door as quiet as I can, and I walk into the main area of the apartment and lie down on the couch. I turn on my side and look at the coffee table, the remote, the TV, the carpet, the windows covered by the curtains, and finally, the ceiling, where this time, I will not be disrupted by a fan.

It’s on the verge of 4:00, and it’s still pitch black outside. I lift the pillow down onto the couch and rest my head on it, grabbing the throw blanket and spreading it across my entire frame. Jimmy insists we keep the thermostat at 65 degrees during the night so that neither of us wake up sweating, but it’s different when you’re stuck inside. Outside, it’s gorgeous weather and you wish the temperature could stay like that all year long. When you’re trapped in a 2 bed 1 bath apartment, you’re in the North Pole.

I do my best to get comfortable and shut my eyes, but my brain just won’t shut up. It’s literally thinking about the past, the present, and the future all at once. How is that even possible? It better be lucky I have no plans for the day ahead because I’m sure as hell going to be grouchy.

After what feels like an entire lifetime, I finally fall into a rhythm of decent sleep.

That is until a car alarm goes off for 5 minutes straight, and I silently groan into the pillow. Now I’m wide awake again. At this rate, I should just start my day off at this moment. Breakfast close to 5, lunch at 10, dinner at 3. Perfect.

I’m startled as I hear the opening of a door, although, at first, I’m unsure of which one. My eyes widely gaze at the front door, but the latch is still up, so I know someone’s not trying to break in. That’s the last thing both of us need.

Footsteps approach the counter and I continue to move my gaze over. I think he’s looking at me, but since it’s dark in here, I really can’t tell.

“What are you doing out here?” he says languidly.

“Can’t sleep,” I answer back, my voice having no energy given how early it is.

He walks over to the couch, staring down at me. “Scoot over,” he says.

I sluggishly adjust my posture and put the pillow back in the corner, dragging the blanket with me for support and moving all the way to the end of the couch. He turns the lights on, dimming them on their lowest setting so that it’s not too bright, but we can still see each other. Then he sits down, crossing his legs and looking at me. “Why can’t you sleep?” The Boston accent is dragged out. That’s when you know he is absolutely exhausted.

I shrug, avoiding his contact. “I don’t know. Brain just won’t settle down.”

“What’s it thinking about?”

“I don’t know. Everything.”

He’s quiet for a few seconds. “Have you had trouble sleeping since?”

“Sort of. I’ve never come out here before, though.”

“Seems like your brain wants to filter all the bad stuff out.”

I yawn, then breathe a quick sigh. “But why right now? Why during the time when I should be sleeping?”

“Beats me. You want me to make us some tea?”

I shake my head. “No thanks. Way too early for that.”

He pushes it aside and continues what I believe to be an interrogation. “Is there anything you need to talk about?”

I sigh again. There’s no need to continue avoiding asking him.

“I just don’t know why you’re handling all of this better than me.”

He lets out a long sigh. “It’s like I’ve already said. We’re just managing it differently.”

“I don’t really believe that.”

“Well, you have to start. It’s gonna take time.”

“It’s already taken up too much of it.”

He repositions himself on the couch, his entire body facing me, his left leg dangling on the carpet. “And 6 months later, it won’t. He won’t be the first thing you think about, and you won’t be wondering what could’ve been. It’ll hurt less. You gotta sit with the hurt and the anger and the uncertainty, just let it infiltrate and linger for as long as you need to. Eventually, all of it will work its way out. Could it stick around for a little while longer? Sure. But it’s not going to be how it was two, three months ago. And it definitely won’t reflect that moment. It’s all an opportunity to start the healing journey.”

I slide my head onto the arm of the couch and tuck the blanket up to my chin. “How do you articulate thoughts like these, no matter the time of day?”

Jimmy scoffs sleepily. “It’s just how I feel, that’s all.”

“And what about you?” I question, not looking at him. “How are you feeling?”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Everything.”

“Well, as for Ryan, it’s not really affecting me on a daily basis anymore, but sometimes I startle myself with how much I subconsciously think about it. I miss him. I’m always going to.”

All I can manage to do is blink.

“But,” he continues, “I was not prepared for the abrupt rate at which it happened. It’s not like I heard about it. I only found out when you called me. Hell, if you never did, I would’ve slept that whole night under the assumption that he was still alive and that he got home. Yeah, the coming day would’ve thrown me for a loop, but at least I was fortunate enough to get a heads-up, so seriously, Abb, I mean it when I say thank you for calling me first. That’s all it took for me to realize it was an actual emergency.”

“Yeah, I still feel bad about waking you. It sounded like you were sleeping so peacefully and then were awoken without warning.”

“Nah, I was just drifting off. I had just gotten out of the shower. I don’t tend to doze off quickly unless I’m close to running into a wall because I can’t keep my eyes open.”

“Guess me calling you was a catalyst for what was yet to come,” I remark.

“I guess it was.”

The early morning silence starts to creep in.

My body jolts when he lightly kicks my foot. Technically, he’s kicking the blanket, but it’s close enough. “I’m happy that you’re here, you know that?”

“No,” I reply groggily.

“See, I knew you’d say that. Here’s a reminder.”

“You actually mean that? After all the shit you’ve had to deal with?”

“Yes.” I see he still hasn’t gone back on his word when it comes to being honest.

He pipes up again. “Are you happy about being here?”

“God, Jimmy, I don’t know,” I annoyingly respond. “I mean, I guess I gotta be, otherwise, I never would’ve packed my things. This would’ve been a one night only type of thing and we could’ve both moved on with our lives. I wouldn’t have to see you every day and you wouldn’t have to even think about the possibility of seeing me lie motionless on your bathroom floor.”

“We don’t have to talk about that,” he says quietly.

“No, I think we should,” I rebut, “because it’s an irreversible choice that I made and an experience you will never be able to erase from your head. Do you walk into the bathroom and think of that day once your feet hit the tiles?”

“Sometimes, yeah,” he admits.

“You didn’t deserve that,” I continue. “And you were right about that being a selfish act.”

“No, Abb, it wasn’t selfish.” Oh, so now he chooses to contradict himself. “It didn’t occur to me how badly you were hurting, but how could I have known if you chose to shut me out?”

I don’t say anything.

“Are you afraid of me? Like, are you afraid that if you blurt out everything that you’ve been feeling, I’m not gonna take it seriously, or that I’ll neglect it?”

I sit up now, keeping the blanket close by, adjusting myself to look at him across the way. His eyes look warm like honey, even with the appearance of the eyebags.

“You seriously think I’m afraid of someone that’s never gone through puberty?”

It’s quiet for a couple seconds before we both let out a snarky laugh. I still gotta roast him every chance I get.

I finish laughing as he watches me, that soft smile dancing across his lips. “See? I simultaneously provide the trauma and theatrics.”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” he says.

“But in all seriousness, no, I am not. Never have been. I mean, I think the one time I will be is when you return the favor by screaming and yelling in my face.”

His face turns from soft-gazed to heightened alertness. “You really think I’d do something like that?”

“Hey, when you’re threatened with a metal blade, anything is possible.”

He rubs his hand on his face. “God, you know that was just an impulse, right?”

“Was it really?”

He reaches across to touch my leg that’s covered by the blanket. Suddenly, the 65 degrees feels like 100. “The last resort that I ever want to take is inflicting pain on you, especially with anything incorporating blades. I know Ryan would’ve done anything possible to keep you happy, even if it meant he had to sacrifice something that was important to him. I’m not remotely close to resembling him as a person, but you were literally his entire world that he proudly held in his hands. Now that you’re the one doing it, I am not willing to interfere with that. What you two had was irreplaceable. Always will be.”

I nod. “Yeah,” I mutter.

“And by the way, if you ever catch me raising my voice at you, and you start to feel scared, you’ll be responsible for letting me know. You’ve already taken too much of a verbal beating from this mouth.”

“It was deserved.”

“No, it was not. I continued putting you down when the one thing you needed was guidance. That’s what I’m here for, along with being your friend. We’re always going to have each other’s backs. It’s non-negotiable.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. Abby, I promise you will never have to worry about me taking that knife and stabbing it in your back.”

“And you don’t need to worry about me slitting your heart open with a razor.”

The silence falls over the room again. He removes his hand from the blanket and stands up. “I’m gonna try and go back to bed. You think you can sleep in your own now?”

I look at the indentation he made on the couch. “Not really, but thanks for talking to me.”

“No, thank you,” he says. “You want me to keep the light on?”

“You can turn it off.”

He gives me another stare before the room goes dark again. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Yep.”

When I hear him walk away and back into his room, I lie down on the couch again, feeling the warmth of his body heat from where he sat. I curl my legs up into my chest and cover myself in the blanket like a straightjacket and close my eyes again, hoping the second round of sleep will do me some wonders.

Surprisingly, it does do me the wonders. The next time I open my eyes, the clock underneath the TV tells me it’s close to 9:30. I’m still facing the coffee table. The early morning sun is peaking beneath the curtains. The only sound I hear is the traffic from outside. Guess he needed the extra sleep, too.

I pay the ultimate sacrifice and emerge from the blanket, tossing it to the side and lifting myself off the couch, using the bathroom and completing my skincare/hygiene routine before standing between the counter and the fridge, wondering what to make for breakfast. I open the fridge, peaking around on each shelf. We’ve got bread, eggs, fruit, milk, my Chobani yogurt, orange juice (ew), and on the side, nothing else than Jimmy’s emotional support beer. He’s only drank 2 of the 24 pack, and he bought it two months ago. He’s not addicted to it or anything. It’s only consumed on occasion. I’ll make a bold prediction and say he downed one on his birthday, probably when I was asleep after the day from hell, and another before then. I’m starting to think he won’t be able to have all of those himself. Fourth of July is a couple weeks away, so I’m thinking he might invite people over and have them join in on the fun. You’ll never see me drink a beer, or any type of alcohol really. The only drink I’m willing to try is champagne. I’ll go buy a bottle when we have something more momentous to celebrate.

There’s nothing that appeals to me, so I shut the door and make strides to my room, looking through my closet to change. I’ve decided to go out and get breakfast. If he wakes up in time, maybe we can go together. I leave the door cracked open and undress behind it, hoping I’m fast enough and he won’t walk in on me. You’d think after the three months we’ve been living together, I’ve seen him without a shirt, but I have not, and I don’t think I’ll ever get to, which is fine, because the last thing I want him to notice me wearing is a bra and underwear, let alone a bikini. He definitely has a type, and looking through a platonic lens, I’m sure that I’m not exactly fitting up to his standards; that’s if he has any. But since he hasn’t dated in literally years, I could be entirely wrong. Long story short, we’ll never get that close. Ever.

Throwing on an oversized T-shirt and cotton shorts, I resort to my sandals and grab my phone off the nightstand. Reaching for my purse hanging off the back of the door, I open it wide and walk back into the kitchen to hear him exiting the bathroom behind me.

“Where you headed to?” he asks. His voice is not as tired as it was 5 hours ago. I stop in my tracks and turn around. He’s changed into a new duo of a solid color shirt and black shorts. He’s got socks on, and I notice his keys are on the counter.

“I was gonna go out for breakfast,” I reply. “I’m not really in the mood for putting something together. You wanna come with?”

“Depends,” he challenges. “What are you in the mood for?”

I scrunch my face up, thinking long and hard about this decision. I love bagels, but I don’t think it’ll satisfy my craving. I want something more extravagant.

“How do you feel about french toast?”

His face immediately lights up. “Sign me the fuck up. Let me go grab my phone. You want me to drive?”

I shake my head. “No, I’ll do it. Have you even been in my car yet?”

“Yeah, definitely,” he says. “Probably not recently, but yeah, I can refamiliarize myself with it.”

“Perfect.” I give him a smug smile. “Go put some shoes on. I’ll grab my keys.��

Once both of us have completed our respective tasks, we lock the apartment door behind us and take our trip in the elevator before walking out through the front of the complex, maneuvering our way through the parking lot until we reach my car. I leased this car when I was 21, and decided to purchase it a year and a half later when I found out I’d be relocating. There was no reason for me to look for a new one and have this car sit in front of my parent’s house and not be used. It’s a quiet ride, good on gas, and it’s blue with a sporty exterior. It can’t get much better than that.

Only until I had to remove a 3x5 picture of Ryan and I from the dashboard, and I ended up crumpling it and threw it into a sewer drain, which I somewhat regretted in that moment, but then reminded myself that I didn’t have any idea where else I would put it. Besides, I’ve already got plenty of printed pictures. They’re all in my box. I don’t feel like taking it out right now. Best to keep it where it is.

Jimmy and I agree on Toast Cafe Brasserie as I enter it into the GPS and back out of my parking spot. I settle on playing Spotify’s personalized ‘daylist’ that usually has some odd yet unfortunately relatable playlist title. The music plays lightly through the speaker with the infiltration of the early morning summer air. I’ll cherish cracking the windows open before having to put the air conditioner on the highest setting.

I side-eye him through my sunglasses. He’s staring straight ahead, watching the other vehicles pass by and come to a stop in front of us. “If you think Manhattan’s traffic is bad,” he starts, “you’ve never been to Boston during concert season at Fenway Park. You’ll be sitting in the car waiting to get out literally an hour and a half after it’s ended.”

“That doesn’t seem enjoyable,” I respond.

“Had that happen to me once in high school. A couple of my friends and I went to a concert series for a day and it was great, but it ended at 9:30 and we didn’t get out of the lot until a little after 11. It was absolutely ridiculous.”

“Are you planning on going back to Boston this summer?” I cautiously ask.

He doesn’t respond right away. “I don’t know,” he admits. “My family’s aware of why I’m still here.”

I roll my eyes as the light in front of us turns green. “You do know that you have free will to go wherever you want whenever you want, right? I don’t want you to think you can’t leave your apartment for a week just because I’m staying in it.”

“But we—”

“Yeah, yeah, we shouldn’t be alone, blah, blah, blah, we’re supposed to stick together, blah, blah, blah. Fine, I guess you got me there.”

It’s his turn to question me. “Would you wanna take a trip somewhere? You know, get out of New York for a bit?”

I turn on my blinker, looking at the rows of cars that I have to wait to pass me before I can even attempt making a right. “It’s not really on my mind right now. If it’s the dying days of vacation and we still haven’t done something, then yeah, maybe.”

Completing my turn successfully, I continue down the road for a few more moments before engaging in one of the most unnecessarily hard tasks the world will ever have to offer: parallel parking. Luckily, there’s plenty of space in front of one car, so I pull over in between the white line and the curb, putting the car in park and turning off the engine before looking out the car door to see if it’s safe to get out and not have it get ripped off by a deranged city idiot.

I make my way out of the driver’s side and shut the door, locking the car before walking behind it and onto the sidewalk, Jimmy’s hand holding my purse. I take it from him and flash a cheeky smile, my quiet way of thanking him before we walk inside the cafe.

Service is quick and the setting is not too crowded, so I’ll be okay. We both order french toast with a side of hash browns for the table, and of course he goes crazy with his orange juice, but I go even crazier with apple juice, and we have a quick debate on which one is better. Spoiler alert: it’s apple.

As we wait for our breakfast, I look around where I’m sitting. All of the tables have 2-4 chairs, there’s a salad bar, employees packaging up to-go orders, and light pop music sounds off from the ceiling. It gives off chill and relaxed vibes, which is what I immediately felt when I walked through the door, listening to the bell jingle above my head.

“Did you guys ever come here?” he says, taking a sip of his God-forsaken orange juice.

I nod. “Yeah, only a couple times, though. It was usually on the weekends if there wasn’t a game. He went absolutely crazy for their omelets, constantly raving, telling me to try one, and when I did, I understood why he liked them so much. They seriously sprinkle some magic in everything they make.”

“So it was just a constant back-and-forth between here and CAVA?”

I playfully punch his wrist. “Yeah, pretty much. Wouldn’t have traded it for anything else.”

“Can I ask you something?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Is it gonna make me lose my cool in public?”

“I hope not.”

I sigh. “Go ahead.”

“Was he a better cook than me?”

I laugh. “You don’t even cook,” I say to call him out. “I mean, he wasn’t that great, but he put in the effort. That’s all that mattered. I’ll say the same for you. Put in the time and motivation, and it will quickly show its benefits.”

“He never almost burned his place down?”

I shake my head. “Nope. He cooked breakfast up at his lake house, and you could’ve sworn he burnt everything, but it actually smelled really good. I thought it was funny, but I told him that if we did end up getting married, I wasn’t doing all the cooking. We’d split up pretty much everything.”

“Did you actually talk about marriage?”

“We never talked about it like we were serious. It was always more of a joke. I know the 5 year gap made him think he had to get married in his late 20s, but I told him I wouldn’t want to do so until I was in my late 20s. It’s not like we sat down and had a heart-to-heart. We were just enjoying where we were then. I just didn’t want him to feel pressured, and I told him I was nowhere near ready, so it was a one-and-done kind of thing.”

He clears his throat. “Do you ever think about what could’ve been?”

I swallow the immediately formed lump in my throat. “All the time.” I look straight in his eyes. “I’ve always worried about how lots of things in my life could be short-term, and never did I think we’d be one of those things. Dr. Meadows is telling me to not worry about what could’ve happened and appreciate what we had. She tells me that while this entire thing feels like a loss, those moments I shared and spent with him are more of a gain. We’re currently talking about my favorite memories and how I can look at them positively.”

“That’s good to hear, Abb. How are you liking her, that’s even if you are?”

“No, I am. She’s kind, yet straightforward. She lets me talk about whatever comes to mind, even if it doesn’t totally make sense, but I think it’s just her way of making sure she understands my perspective before providing what she thinks.”

“Have you talked about me again?” He gives me that sly smirk.

I return one back to him. “No, actually. Don’t worry, though. I’ll be sure to bring you up when I go on Thursday.”

“Yeah, okay,” he sarcastically retorts, eliciting a quick laugh. “Just wanna make sure you’re not tarnishing my reputation.”

“I think I already did that,” I smile. “But guess what? It can’t stop you from enjoying french toast,” subtly pointing over his shoulder as I notice our plates making the way toward our table.

Once they’re set down, along with the hash browns, we thank the server and pick up our forks and knives. The blade is less sharp. He can’t hurt me with that one even if he tried.

“Does it feel nice to finally get out and enjoy yourself?” Jimmy says between bites.

“Yeah,” I agree, spinning the fork in my hand. “I forgot how much I missed going out and catching up with people.”

“It just occurred to me that we rarely ever hung out one-on-one since you got here. It’d always be a group thing, and this was before Ryan, too.”

Suddenly, I feel this huge wave of guilt. I’ve got really great relationships with everyone on the team, and I know that I don’t need to talk to them every day to know the connection is still there. Ever since, I’ve continued my pattern of limited communication with pretty much everyone, except for the obvious. It’s the time of year where everyone goes home to catch up with family and friends while simultaneously enjoying their free time. It’s meant to be relaxing. So far for the two of us, it most definitely hasn’t been.

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” I say quietly. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He exhales a puff of air. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested. I didn’t want to interfere with what you had.”

I take a deep breath. “Why are you always so worried about how I perceive things? You’re not doing anything wrong by asking me to hang out. He knew that no one else saw me more as a friend. He was never jealous. We could go out with other people and not be obligated to go together. I could tell him I’d have plans with you to go walk around Midtown and he would’ve just told me to have fun and let him know when I got home. That’s it. You literally had nothing to fret about.”

I’m met with his blank stare. “Yeah, I, uh, I guess I didn’t.”

“You do know he never felt you were a threat, right? And you know I don’t view you as one, either?”

His mouth turns into the tiniest of a lopsided yet microscopic smile. “You sure? After-”

“Yeah,” I bring my voice down to a hushed whisper, “even though you pointed this,” gesturing to the stainless piece of silverware, “at me, that wound already ran deep before then, and it sure as hell was not your fault. You may have added to it, but at least you didn’t twist it right in front of my eyes.”

“Why does every conversation we ever have come back to this?” He jokes. “It’s been happening a lot recently. I find it unsettling.”

I chuckle. “Perhaps it’s a reminder to not resort to inanimate objects during arguments.”

His face turns the tiniest shade of red. “I won’t do it again. I don’t wanna add to what you’ve already been through, even though you claimed that I already have. I still feel bad about it. I really, really do.”

I take a sip of my apple juice. “I know you do,” I say sincerely. “I think from this point forward, we need to start helping each other. At this point, it’s really the only way we’ll be able to keep moving on. We’ve only done things that have hurt each other. It can’t continue. And how blindsided am I to realize that now?”

“Can that be incorporated into the pinky promise?” His eyes look like they’re going to explode out of their sockets.

“I guess so. Damn, you’re really big on loyalty, huh?”

He confidently shrugs. “It’s a family thing.”

I give him a tight smile. “Better downgrade that to a duo.”

“Noted.”

With the conclusion of that conversation, we continue enjoying our overpriced breakfast foods before I pay (yes, I had to convince him. I can’t even remember the last time I paid for someone else. I’m taking a page out of his book and becoming more selfless) and we drive back to the apartment.

For the first time in these last three months, I’m not dreading a conversation with him or being in the same space. I know it will take more time to become more comfortable with that feeling, but for now, I have to refrain from doing anything that will set him off. We haven’t fought or held an attitude toward each other since his birthday. It feels like summer’s only beginning, which I guess you could say it is. But if you look a little more closely, I think it’s the beginning of us developing a new outlook on life, future interactions, and each other.

[sophfandoms53]

Idk about y’all but getting to explore a Sonic who seems to still be in a pretty early stage of his friendships and his heroism and learning to become more levelheaded, a little less cocky, value himself, and especially learn that he needs his friends just as much as they need him sounds pretty interesting to me.

I wanna make it clear though, Sonic Prime COULD mess that up. They could have messy characterization all across the board and this arc can be done poorly. That’s in realm of possibility. But we don’t know enough to make that judgement. We have 3 clips that are around 20-30 seconds each. That isn’t enough content to judge an entire season on, imo. If you don’t have an interest in the show, you’re entitled to that 100%, but to act as if it’s completely bad already when we still don’t know much is a little odd to me.

Again, the show can mess all this up, I’m not trying to be here like “no no guys the show is gonna perfect just you wait”, y’all know I’m not that type of person. When the show comes out and if it is a total mess in execution of the story and the characters, i will be on top of that instantly. I go into everything with a critical eye and I pay close attention to the execution to make an opinion. I think going into something with some caution is totally fine, and going into something with some excitement is fine too, but going into something being overly positive or overly negative is just gonna have a huge altering effect on your experience. Whether it makes you blind from the issues, or your expectations aren’t met and you’re underwhelmed, or you’re just biased against it no matter, it’s just a mindset I don’t agree with. Again that’s me.

Going back to Sonic’s character arc, I don’t really see an issue with them wanting to give him one like this. Especially considering this is a Netflix Cartoon being made for kids. Adding this arc for Sonic to learn to be less cocky and value his friendships a lot more could be happening to help make him more relatable to kids. Im not saying Game!Sonic isn’t relatable, but he is a really difficult character to analyze as a casual. Most people who only passively know Sonic know that he’s cocky and he’s a hero. But when you’re someone who has dove into the series and understands how the characters work, you see all the layers Sonic has.

You’re aware that Sonic knows all the risks and sacrifices he takes to protect his planet and its people. You’re aware Sonic knows how much his friends value him and how much he values them. You’re aware that Sonic leaves people better than when he found them. You’re aware that Sonic is an emotional guy even if he doesn’t show it. You’re aware Sonic lives his life freely everyday and that he enjoys life no matter what. You’re aware that Sonic enjoys danger and protecting people. You’re aware that Sonic has one of kindest hearts in the world. We as fans, we all know that. But casuals? Young kids just getting into the franchise? Most of them probably don’t know all this from the games because they’re just playing a fun game with Sonic in it. Kids don’t really notice all these character elements or story beats at first, but they’ll notice it as they grow. As a kid I know I never noticed just how kind and sensible Sonic could be sometimes. That was something I learned as I got older and rlly dove into his character to see.

Generally, game!Sonic doesn’t really have an arc, and it’s because of everything I mentioned above. Sonic’s a character who’s already had most of his development happen already. Unlike his friends, who we see grow from their debut games and onwards, we don’t see Sonic have an arc to grow into being hero because when we meet him, he already knows that. So, instead we get to see how he approaches being a hero given the different scenarios he’s put in, mainly because of Eggman. We see how he adapts when he gains new allies, or when he has a new adversary. Sonic has very minor things that could be considered flaws, but overall he’s a pretty well-rounded and developed character. Which isn’t a bad thing. Having your main character already developed is a rather engaging interpretation because it allows for you to catch those moments where Sonic messes up, where he’s struggling, where he shines, what he likes/dislikes, and how he reacts to things. Those are the moments that can help capture Sonic as a person just as much as they capture him as a hero. They’re a lot more subtle, but they are there.

The biggest constant of Sonic’s character, and the franchise as a whole, are how much his friends matter to him. Friendship is one of Sonic’s biggest values as a character. His friends mean the world to him. He loves them unconditionally and does anything to protect them, and they in turn do the same for him. In the games, Sonic see’s his friends on an equal playing field, and as he should they’re all strong individuals, and that plays into how much they care about each other. As much as they can all handle on their on own, they are stronger as a unit.

Friendship is everything in this franchise.

So if Prime, in a similar sense to the movies, wants to take a more direct approach with Sonic’s character by making his arc more blatant and especially adding more emphasis of him understanding his friends and his friendships with them, I don’t see much harm in that.

[im-a-lil-simp]

Not sure whether it‘s still open or it hasn‘t updated for me yet but ndhvdd if possible, can I possibly request a Techno x Reader writing where the Reader wants to cuddle with him, but they have no Idea how to express it so they just..get extremely fidgety?:,> Preferably in a SMP like AU because c o l d = very fluff moments but I don‘t mind either way :,33

I‘m sorry for requesting Techno but he‘s such a comfort Streamer and I just aaaA-

Also you don’t have to do it, ya know, since I get if not and it‘s 100% valid aldbs

~Hira👑, who still can‘t fall asleep because I just saw a Spider qjebdb

No Harm In A Hug (Technoblade x Reader)

Okay I can get behind more smp au, I don't wanna do it all the time, but this is nice. Techno is also a comfort streamer of mine.

This was such a cute request 🥺 I hope you guys get the callback I put in there.

It had started early on in your friendship. You had been friends for around four months and you were becoming more comfortable with each other. You loved being more comfortable with each other, it meant the all the awkwardness of a new friendship had finally washed away and you guys could actually get to know each other deeper than just surface level.

You knew it was too early in the friendship to get close to him physically. I mean, he didn't outwardly show friendship normally. Only in the small things, like killing a skeleton before you had to, sniping it from miles away.

He noticed it then too, how you would fidget. It didn't mean much to him, as he passed it off as nervousness or just a general tendency to appear fidgety. He understood of course, he had adhd so who was he to really judge.

A couple of months later, you were still facing the same issue. It was more of a need to be generally close to him now, though. You found yourself wanting to hold his hand and hug him when arriving and leaving a place. And when it slipped out to one of his brothers, they assured you it would be fine. They weren't necessarily affectionate as brothers, but they knew he wouldn't mind a single bit, especially because you two were already close friends.

Once you had even found yourself reaching for his hand. You hadn't a clue where that urge came from. Your feelings for him were complicated, but you never even thought about holding his hand. All you knew is how nervous you were to touch him, you wanted to so badly.

And then the war came. Wilbur and Tommy asked him to join them in pogtopia, and he couldn't deny them and their desire to bring down Schlatt as president. There would be no time for indulging you in your quest for affection. Especially not initiating it for the first time ever.

You'd come to visit him though. You'd sit around when he'd plant potatoes, or even following him, hoping to gain the smallest understanding of what he was doing or why. They had plenty of food in pogtopia, so why did they need such a massive potato farm? You also had no idea why he love farming potatoes so much, but you still supported him, even if you didn't understand this hyperfixation of his. Those days were normally calm.

There were other calm days as well, but only for Techno. He'd ask you to spar sometimes, usually when Wilbur and Tommy were out, so there was nobody that he had been explicitly asked to train around his temporary home. Sparring wasn't intrinsically calm, but he found it calming in a specific way since it wasn't the same as being in the heat of a normal battle or war.

It wasn't so calm for you. Sure, it was always nice to get a bit of practice in, you had a habit of getting rusty and he had a way of relieving it pretty easily. But the fact that you guys were so close in proximity, so close that at times you could feel each others breath reflecting off the others skin, bothered you to no end.

When he pinned you to the ground in victory, you wanted nothing more than to pull him down with you and watch the clouds for the rest of the day, rather than go round for another fight. You wanted to feel how warm he would make you from just existing next you. You were sure he'd be very warm.

He could see at that point the small twitches your hand would make towards his. He noticed when you would inch towards him, even in scenarios when you weren't being threatened by another member of the SMP or L'manburg. He wondered what was stopping you from being affectionate with him. He may not have been the type to show love that way, but it didn't mean he didn't welcome it with open arms. There was no harm in a hug.

When the war finally came, you were worried about him, as most friends would be when their best friend's life was on the line. He tried everything to assure you that Technoblade never dies, but none of his assurance helped to ease the worry in your heart. It was the day he went to war that you realized you loved him as more than your best friend.

You watched from the hills as he fought. You were on neutral grounds as far as everyone else was concerned, so you had to stay that way, no matter how much you wanted to fight next to Techno. He educated you on his plans the night before though. He didn't want you anywhere near the fight, as he knew you would already have to run if the chance to spawn the withers did arise as he thought it might.

When it was over, he found people rummaging through his base. It was to be expected to be respected so little by the people he had so-called betrayed. You knew your time with him was most likely over when he told you he'd be moving away so that he could enter retirement and be free from his violent lifestyle. It pained you knowing that your friendship would be severed in half and you would never even have the chance to dwell on your feelings for him again.

Until he asked you to run away with him. He didn't want to leave his best friend, he told you. Those words stung a little, but his intentions still excited you. He knew you remained neutral. You'd be considered part of the badlands if you had lived anywhere other than the main part of the smp. There was nothing there for you other than more war and hardships.

Maybe if you could just get him alone, spend all of your time with him, you'd finally be able to touch him. You'd finally work up the courage to take his hand in yours, or hug him in excitement, or just confess your feelings to him.

You confessed your feelings to him when you built your house together. It was so cold outside, but you worked through it anyway. It wasn't originally supposed to be your house together anyway, at least to you. You were supposed to build your own after you were done with his.

But it just kind of slipped out of you. He mentioned how well your house was coming together, and you replied about how you hoped yours would look just as good. But that confused him. He thought that you'd share it.

When you tried to explain to him that you really couldn't live in the same house as him, it confused him further. Why not? So he asked, and when you spilled out, "because then you'd find out how many feelings I have for you," you hadn't thought that your brain would not keep that little tidbit of information to itself.

And it surprised you when he walked over, crouched down, and patted your head. He wanted you to know that he felt the same. He wanted you to be as close as you had been trying to be.

Living together became something you cherished a lot, but you still didn't physically touch each other as much as you wanted to. Yea, he'd hold your hand when making a harder trek, trying to keep you going. Or he'd put his hand on yours when you sat next to the fire on a particularly cold night. But it wasn't enough, and you still couldn't bring yourself to take it farther than that.

Techno knew, but he waited for you to make a move first. You'd do it in your own time, when you were ready to. But as time moved on, he realized that that was simply not true. You were fighting yourself on it and he would have to step in.

When you walked in the door after making your way to the lake to fish for the night's dinner, his plan was already set in mind. You headed down stairs to separate the other things you fished up into chests and he took a deep breath. It wouldn't be as hard for him to do it as it was for you, but it still wasn't something you two did often.

You emerged in a comfier set of clothes and moved to sit down next to the fire. Mid-crouch, he grabbed your hand and yoinked you down to fall directly into him. You hit his chest with an 'oomph' and he wrapped his arms securely around you.

Your face flushed from his actions, rather than the sudden heat of the fire. Though, it certainly contributed. He hummed, content.

You buried your face into his chest further and gripped his shirt, this was exactly what you wanted. You finally had exactly what you were looking for and you definitely wanted more of it in the future.

Techno knew he'd have to do this a few more times before you'd do it yourself, but if that's what he had to do to make you comfortable, he'd do it every day of the week and every second of every day.

[anarmorofwords]

Hey so what do you want most and least from chot?

Hi anon!

Ughhh, okay, buckle up babes!

I do actually have a list of things I least want to see, aka...

"Things I won't forgive CC for writing in ChoT":

Alastair again being portrayed as despicable and deserving of the hate he's getting; getting more hate that's not called out; narrative suggesting Cordelia/Thomas are being unbelievably kind and merciful for loving him.

Matthew dying/turning into a Downworlder/getting lost in Faerie/his and James's parabatai bond breaking somehow. (I'm aware there are people who want/like some of these scenarios, and that's totally valid, I personally can't stand them)

Christopher dying. Don't you fucking dare, CC.

Sona dying in childbirth.

I wanna say Ari/Kamanna becoming canon in general, but while that's a possibility I'm trying to make my peace with, i just hope that if it happens, it's not framed as "poor Anna" finally allowing herself to love Ari and forgive her. If it's to happen, I need Anna to apologize and change her ways and Kamala to be respected by her. Though I'd rather they didn't end up together in general.

Lucelia not becoming parabatai.

Things I WANT to see most:

Alastair getting a friend; preferably Ariadne/Kamala/Grace/Kit/Genie.

Will and Gideon adopting bonding with/taking care of Alastair. Especially Gideon - the parallels between them simply beg to be explored and acknowledged. It's already been hinted that these two are actually fond of Alastair, so I have hope.

Alastair snapping.

To be honest I'd love The Parents to scold TMT for their treatment of Alastair in ChoI. (ChoG was mostly fine imo, both sides were being rather petty and immature, but in ChoI they were simply cruel). I wanna imagine their parents would be hella dissapointed when they find out.

Parents/children interactions. Honestly any and all of them, but I'm especially desperate for Alastair confronting Sona, Will comforting James after he finds out about the gracelet, Tessa and Lucie bonding time, "you're not a burden and should let yourself live your own life" conversation between Sophiedeon and Thomas, and obviously Matthew reconciling with his parents.

Matthew's issues being properly handled and addressed and not "cured by love" or similiar bullshit.

Matthew and James getting an emotional reunion scene that's entirely focused on them. Complete with bone-crushing hugs and frantic mutterings of imsorrys and iloveyous and imissedyous and sobbing and all that. And a long-ass, honest conversation afterwards.

Math's POV

Matthew sharing the Sin with his loved ones and being assured they love him still (bonus points for Charles trying not to be a shitty brother to him anymore)

Ariadne/Kamala getting to exist as a character outside of her relationship with Anna.

Grace getting to heal and unlearn the awful things she's been taught, also being shown compassion and understanding (bonus points for TID ladies taking care of her)

TMT working out their issues. I know it's an unpopular opinion, but I love their friendship back in the day and, even now, I don't think it's unsalvageable, imo they deserve a fresh start and a chance at a more mature friendship without all the miscommunication and unaddressed traumas and issues.

More Eugenia.

Grief being actually acknowledged - I mean Carstairs as well as Lightwoods and Fairchilds.

This is probably just wishful thinking, but Alastair realising Charles took advantage of him by ever entering a relationship with him. I'd love for some adults to also validate that realization and call out Charles, but I guess that's v unlikely.

less boobs and more soft scenes for Jordelia

Thomas speaking Persian/Farsi. That's a must.

Thomas being appreciated and his talents at least being mentioned

Kit being appreciated

i guess actually interesting plot; I'm intrigued by the whole Iron Tombs thing, she better not mess that up

fights that let other characters/weapons other than Cordelia/Cortana shine

Alastair playing with baby Carstairs

Cordelia standing up for Alastair and ensuring him of her love

Alastair playing the piano

Anna stopping with the fuckboy bullshit

That might be all, I guess? There might be some other small things, but these are most important for me.

Thanks for the ask <3

[sailoryooons]

Maybe suga x reader where they watch a scary movie together. One of them is scared and the other pretends to be scared, I don’t care who 😊 just a cute fluffy mess. Friends to crushes, they can confess or not (whatever you want to do) but I just wanna giggle and kick my feet LOL 🥺

☾ Pairing: Yoongi x gn reader 

☾ Summary: Yoongi hates scary movies. He’ll never tell you that of course, content to suffer through your October scary movie marathon if it means getting to snuggle up to you on the couch. 

☾ Word Count: 1,254

☾ Genre: Humor, Fluff, Mutual Crushes

☾ Rating: SFW 

☾ Warnings: Mentions of being afraid of movies/clowns, Yoongi has Trauma from IT lmao, mentions of movie deaths, unconfessed feelings, a little bit of pining, really nothing else 0 this is short and sweet. 

☾ Published: Sunday, September 15 2024

☾ A/N: I actually love the idea of Yoongi who is afraid of scary movies but watches them because it makes reader happy :) I hope you enjoy it!! 

☾ A/N 2: There are no gendered terms or references to this reader, so I have labeled it as general neutral for the purposes of this fic. 

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Haliween 

Yoongi has never liked scary movies. He remembers the first time he saw one, having snuck into the living room when his older brother wasn’t watching to curl in the armchair, eyes fixated on the screen. He remembers the way his fear became deep rooted, eyes wide as a killer clown murdered everyone in Derry, dragging them down to the sewers.

He’s hated scary movies since then - especially ones with clowns. 

Yet he can’t help but let you drag him into your annual month-long marathon of Halloween movies. Some of them aren’t so bad - your marathoning isn’t exclusive to things that terrify him and keep him staring up at the ceiling at night with the bathroom door open and lights on. Like Hocus Pocus - that was a great film and he’d slept soundly afterward. 

Tonight is not going to be like that. You’ve primed him for days leading up to tonight, gushing about how Scream is your favorite and you want him to try and guess who the killer is before the big reveal. He’s not very good at guessing, but the way your eyes light up when you open your apartment door to find him with popcorn and soda in hand make it worth it.

A lot of things are worth it with you. Like going to the farmer’s market on a really busy day, or going to some pretentious coffee shop forty minutes away because their rose latte is your favorite, or being dragged to a very crowded bar to see a band that you like. 

Your friendship with Yoongi shouldn’t make sense. You like bright sunny days and going outside on walks, venturing into crowded places to watch people, introducing yourself to new friends and chatting with people at the bar. Yoongi likes cold and rainy days and staying inside, keeping to himself at the few places he’s familiar with, and tucking away in a corner with his headphones. 

He likes to say you adopted him as a joke, but it’s not really a joke. You have adopted him into your friends circle, bringing the quiet boy from your freshman algebra class into the fold. Years later, you still greet him with the same oozing excitement as the first time you introduced yourself, bursting at the seams with kindness. 

“You didn’t cheat and look up anything, right?” you demand, suddenly serious as you sit down on your couch and fold your legs. He smirks and shakes his head, brushing the dark hair out of his eyes as he sits in the middle. “Good. You need to make honest guesses.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I know the rules.”

Your grin is blinding and for a second, the world is nothing but the beat of Yoongi’s thundering heart and your smile. He blinks and shakes it off, watching you from the corner of his eye as you settle into the blankets, throwing the corner toward him to keep him warm. 

Tentatively, he pulls the covers over his knees as he pulls them up onto the couch. The blankets are from your bed so they smell like you, vanilla and cinnamon. Hitting the lights on the back of the couch, you douse your apartment into darkness as the TV flickers to life, opening up the movie’s beginning.

Yoongi’s heart is already pounding. Both at how close you are and at the anticipation for what’s going to come on screen. Slasher movies aren’t his favorite, a little too realistic for him to comfortably watch them. 

Still, he watches with muted interest as Casey answers an old school phone, leaning on a counter while the world’s most unsettling voice talks to her through the receiver. 

“That voice would freak me out,” Yoongi admits. “What’s that one we watched with the you’re gonna die in seven days?” 

“The Ring.”

“Yeah. People need to stop answering phones.”

“You gonna stop answering my phone calls?”

He pouts. “No.” 

Your laugh is like tinkling silver. He grins, pleased as you lean toward him, shifting so that your arms are pressed together and your head is resting on his shoulder. He lets you snuggle him despite the fact that for the next five minutes, he can barely follow what’s happening on screen because his heart is slamming and his thoughts are dizzy. 

Yoongi has no idea if you know how he feels. He doesn’t think you do - there’s no way you’d cuddle up to him and make him flustered and confused if you did. You’re not the kind of person to lead him on, which leaves him stranded in a sea of do you or don’t you like him. 

It’s a puzzle he keeps trying to solve himself without asking you, which has resulted in zero solves or answers. 

Yoongi flinches the first time Ghostface comes on screen, mouth tilting downward. You peer up at him, eyes wide. The TV light reflects in your eyes as you watch him, a question in your gaze. He clears his throat. “Caught me off guard.” 

“Uh huh.” 

Yoongi feels his heart race when Casey begins running across the field on screen. He can almost imagine what it must be like to run for your life, chased by some crazy person in a mask and - 

The movie pauses. He blinks and looks at where you’re watching him, smirking. “What? He asks, eyes wide. “Why’d you pause it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you don’t like scary movies?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Yoongi, you’re squeezing my thigh.”

He becomes hyper aware that his hand is on your thigh, squeezing tightly as his anxiety increases. He feels warmth spread up his neck and he lets you go, turning away to hide the way his ears and cheeks turn red. You giggle and he squirms under the embarrassment, looking anywhere but you.

“Come on,” you urge. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You like scary movies.”

“So?”

“So,” he emphasizes, pouting. He won’t look at you, suddenly interested in his nail beds as you continue to stare at him. It’s dark in your apartment and you still sit close to him, thigh pressed against his. “I enjoy doing what you enjoy.” 

“We can watch something else.” 

He shakes his head. “Really, it’s okay. I want to find out who the killer is.” 

You chew on your lower lip, the silence heavy for a minute. “Would it help if I held your hand?” His eyes shoot up to look at you, checking if you’re serious. It seems you are, all the humor vanishing from your face as you stare at him with an earnest expression. “Only if you want to.”

“Maybe.”

Your lips twitch in a smile. “What if I told you it would help me if we held hands?”

“Then definitely.” 

When you smile, Yoongi knows you’re onto him. He feels his stomach flip when you lean in close, the smell of vanilla and cinnamon making his head swim as you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. He feels warm all over, fingers and toes buzzing as you settle back into the couch much closer to him. 

He stretches his hand toward you and you link your fingers with his. He grins at the warmth of your palms and the way you tug your laced fingers into your lap, leaning into his shoulder again. Hiding his smile, he relaxes into the back of the couch, ready to take on any scary movie in the world if it means having whatever this is with you.

“Press play,” he urges, leaning his head on yours. “I can definitely do this now.” 

-

TAG LIST

@wobblewobble822 @idkjustlovingbts @teddytae @veronawrites

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If you don't see your tag here, Tumblr would not let me tag you.

[ninjakasuga]

More Sonally Headcanons!!

Well, sort of. They’re headcanons related to Sonic and Sally, but this is actually more of an in depth introduction to my fankids J.C. and Kathleen. Along with an addendum to my last headcanon I flagged for @boundforfreedomsonsal. Turns out as I re-read it, I left out a part for Sonic’s headcanon. The stay at home dad part, I barely touched and that bugs me, so here’s that segment fleshed out and then some info on J.C. and Kathleen! Sonic the stay-at-home-dad: As mentioned prior, Sonic knows he’s not cut out for the majority of what being Prince-Regent entails. Showing up for parties, events and giving back to the people of Mobius, he can do that. Ruling stuff, that is absolutely Sally’s domain. Sure he can offer his viewpoints and all that, but the long-term, big-picture view thinking isn’t his style. That said he doesn’t wanna be a lay about, nor just jam off on adventures and leave Sally doing the hard stuff either. When the children are born, Sonic sees a way he can contribute more after Sally’s maternity leave period is officially over with. Not that Sally intends to stop being maternal, but at some point she is going to need to get back to the day-to-day logistics of running the Kingdom. Motherhood is wonderful and she isn’t going to neglect it; but she has her duties she must fulfill. To help with this; Sonic figures he can handle some ‘solo parent time’ while Sally does her part of the ol’ Kingdom running bit. To which his lovely wife is very grateful for, but also concerned. She recalls some of the trouble he had babysitting his little brother and sister; plus these two MIGHT have his speed. Sonic as usual, brushes off the concerns with the ol’ charm and a smile. Of course this bites him in the ass when the kids DO start to show they have his speed. Especially when said children are still being potty-trained and their diapers don’t stay on due to the velocity of said speed. (Not trying to be gross here, but it is a scenario the two will have to deal with, I pity the cleaners at the castle). While Sally feels that she’s putting a large heft of the parenting responsibilities on Sonic, he points out it’s the least he can do. He can’t do what she does, and while they are BOTH together on the parenting journey, he can handle the tykes for some hours while she’s doing the Queen-y stuff and once she’s done; it’s family time all together. “Sal there’s gonna be times when I gotta do stuff and you’ll have the kids by your lonesome. It’s just part of the gig, you ain’t abandoning the kids, that ain’t you. Go on, be the Queen. Your Prince, will keep our babes safe and adorble!” Now onto the kids themselves: This kind of goes over their base personalities as they develop in their preteen-to-teenage years. Kathleen: The daughter of the twins (whose name is a meta-homage to Kath Soucie), who as she grows up, gains a tomboy streak and is very much the apple of her Father’s eye. Feisty, sly, and prone to mischief (at least moreso than her brother who can be mischief-y himself). Out of the two, she’s the one truly in love with their inherited speed, and the freedom it offers. While she can be a bit blunt, and snarky, she has a keen mind, and education that she can use to scary effect, when she wants. She’s not above using her ‘cuteness’ to get what she wants, as long as she uses it sparing on her parents who are WISE to her antics. As her Aunt Bunnie puts it “She’s a lovable troublemaker with Sonic’s knack for trouble, and Sally’s brains to get out of said trouble.... most of th’ time.” She also has picked up some mechanical aptitude after hanging out often with her Great Uncle Chuck, Uncles Tails and Uncle Rotor. She loves repairing things and trying to build her own gadgets or vehicles. Well once she builds one that doesn’t fall apart from her overzealous designs getting the better of practical usage. In a tense situation where trouble brews, she’s the most likely to start throwing punches, and worry about ‘why’ the troublemakers started trouble after they’re tied up from their punch-naps. Of the royal duo she doesn’t exactly try to slack in any royal duties she has, but the idea of adventuring across the planet sounds more keen than sitting on a throne or doing paperwork, or both. Despite being closest with her Father she does love and respect her Mother; if anything she sees her as the ultimate badass Queen; but she also loves to push her buttons, a lot. Lastly unlike her brother who aspires to be a decent cook, he isn’t, and she is, and she does love to rub it in J.C.’s face she can pull of ‘Uncle Twan and Aunt Bunnie’s recipes’ with gusto. Jaleel-Craig (J.C. for short): The brother of the twins (with a double homage to Jaleel White and Roger-Craig Smith), J.C. is the more serious of the pair, but in a more laid back manner compared to his Mother. Of the two royal heirs, he’s the one who takes their responsibilities to the crown seriously. That said he’s not in any rush to be crowned King either, feeling he’s still lacking qualities or the ability to see things his sister does that he feels make her just as good a potential ruler as she feels he will be. Just getting her to understand that is a tall order. Not unlike his sister, while he loves both parents equally and shares many traits with both; while Kathleen is the apple of Sonic’s eye, J.C. is Sally’s pride. Sharing a love of lore, history, and learning in general. It isn’t uncommon to find the two engrossed in going over books and tomes of lost lore they’re trying to regain after so much was lost in the Robotnik/Eggman wars. While he and his sister both were taught hand-to-hand and various self defense moves by both their parents after their kidnapping at age six; J.C. found himself favoring the use of melee weapons in conjunction to the lessons from his parents and extra martial arts from Aunt Bunnie. To this end, his Uncle Twan’ was happy to show the young man the way of the blade to which J.C. has proven proficient and capable to his Uncle’s delight. Plus it gives Antoine playful ribbing ammo to use against his Father. J.C. is also a skillful diplomat-in-training having picked up some skills from his Mother and some of the best silver-tongues on the planet. As much as he is the studious son, he still shares a streak of mischief not unlike his sister; he’s just much better at being subtle and under-the-radar about it. Alas one skill he aspires to master but for the time being, fails at is cooking. If it’s anything but his Father and Great Uncles Chili-Dog recipes, he finds himself burning water not unlike his Mother. The fact his sister who usually prefers junk food, can make Uncle Twan’s Crepes’ or Aunt Bunnie’s Peach Cobbler from scratch vexes him. Much like his sister, he does revel in the speed inherited from their Father, but he views it as a ‘with great power, comes great responsibilities’ viewpoint as opposed to his sister ‘freedom above all’ mentality of the super-speed. That said, he’s not above using it to help her preform pranks from time to time. A last bit of side information. After the kidnapping, as an extra safety precaution, Sally asked Nicole to create some helper A.I.’s to work alongside the children. A notion Nicole found not just a good tactical idea, but also endearing as it would in her eyes, foster a continued foundation of friendship and family between her own growing ‘cyber family’ and Sally and Sonic’s own. With some ‘help’ from a certain former Metal Sonic-turned-good (*cough*Shard*cough*), Nicole created her own A.I. ‘children’ to be companions for the duo, housed in upgradable ‘watches’ that would house the A.I. when they were away from the nanite-network of New Mobotropolis. Kathleen gained ‘Berri’ Nicole and Shard’s ‘daughter’ who seems split between trying to ‘reign in’ some of Kathleen’s more spastic tendencies, and yet from time to time; loves to work alongside her in her crazy endeavors as Kathleen gets her to ‘lighten up’ some, as their friendship grows. Sometimes two crazy minds work well together. Kathleen equates Berri to having a portable, nanit-hack-capable sis-in-crime. J.C.’s A.I. companion Fragment or ‘Frag’ as they coined as a nickname is a bit of an oddity. His default persona is that of a semi-stiff minder, who encourages his more academic past-times, and furthering his education. Yet at times Frag shifts into a female persona who sometimes uses ‘Fraggie’ as a nickname. Fraggie is more laid back, trying to get the young Prince to mellow out when his more serious side becomes ‘a bit much’. She also seems to enjoy trying to play match maker between J.C. and his crushes. Okay I hope ya’all enjoyed these tidbits on my fankids. Next time we return to headcanons about their parents!

[elianas-cozycorner]

𝓜𝓲𝓭𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼

Title: “Midnight Confessions”

Author’s Note: One of the final three (3) requests I have from 2018, this particular scenario is something I’ve wanted to write for a while. I absolutely love this plot device, no matter how cliché or overused it may be. I hope you guys enjoy this and have as much fun reading it as I did writing it. To the anonymous requester, I hope you see this. I really wanted to bring justice to your idea, even if it’s more than two years late. 

Request: “Could u possibly do something where the reader and McCree share a bed on a mission (or maybe they just get hurt and r resting) and McCree lays w/ them n stuff and while they’re “sleeping” he confesses his love and that he’s scared to love but it turns out they heard the whole thing ? if not that’s fine, thank u! I love ur writing!” - Anon

Rating/Pairing: 

Jesse McCree/Reader 

Fluff & Brief Angst; GA (General Audiences)

2nd Person, Gender Neutral

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2.2k | Added a “read more” due to the length.

When operations go wrong, there’s little that can be done to reverse the initial mistake. Not only are lives put on the line, but so too are relationships and the foundations of friendship. Being under constant fire, unable to reach backup or safety, really wears down the body and mind. Though some may find a thrill in it, eventually that too wears away. 

In your case, you had been pinned down for nearly an hour. Though your position had been defensible, it was on track to becoming more of a hazard than anything else. It wasn’t clear who was to blame for the mishap, everything having happened so fast, but one moment the team you were apart of was working together and the next you were alone with Jesse McCree. 

Sighing, you pressed your back to a stone wall. It was one of the only walls that sheltered you from the flying bullets and sniper fire. Jesse was crouched across from you, trying his best to peer around the corner for the next viable bit of cover. 

You picked up your earpiece, taking it from the place it had fallen when you had run for cover. Quickly bringing up two of your fingers, you activated the line. “Commander? Commander are you there?”

Jesse spared you a glance, worry in his eyes as he took in your features, before turning back to make sure no one had advanced on your position. There was a faint crackle of static before your attempt at communication was answered.

“I’m here, agent.” Reyes’ voice was rough and you could hear the noise of gunfire through his link. “What’s your status?” 

You knew that he could hear the gunfire on your end as you answered. “We’re pinned down, I don’t think McCree and I will be able to get to you.”

Reyes cursed under his breath before answering. “Everyone’s on board. We’re ready to get the hell out of here. This aircraft has taken too much damage for us to wait any longer. We’ll give you as much cover as possible, but you two are gonna have to get yourselves out of there. Figure out how to get somewhere safe, you know the drill, agent.”

McCree, whose communications system was linked to yours, nodded. You could see he was too focused to give a verbal answer, so you kept speaking. “Copy that. We’re ready when you are.”

__________

“We’ll keep in touch, agent.” The words ran through your head over and over again, even opened the door in front of you. 

After Reyes had provided enough aerial cover for you and McCree to get to safety, you had both gone to the nearest safe house. Each assignment Blackwatch, or Overwatch, gave its agents was well thought out and discussed. Drop sites that were busy had cheap motels or hostels listed in their information packets, or predetermined safe houses when the locations were more secluded. In this case, it was a secluded safe house. The information sheet you had pulled up earlier made mention of a stocked kitchen, running water, and first aid supplies. What it had failed to tell you was how small the place would be.

It was practically a one room flat in the form of a cabin. Half walls separated the less private rooms, with only the bedroom and bathroom having proper privacy. The rooms were cold, the thermostat untouched for a long time, but it would do.

Flicking on a light switch, you watched as the florescent bulbs lit up the kitchenet and living space nearest the door. A deep sigh escaped you as you finally allowed your body to relax, dropping the small bag on your shoulder near the door. “Well, Cowboy, this is home for the next 48 hours.”

The brunette man behind you had the decency not to laugh as he made his way past you. “Seems so, sugar. You can take the bathroom first, I’ll take a look ‘n’ find somethin’ for-”

“Us to change into. I know. You talked about showering and getting your wounds dressed the entire way here, Jesse.” You said, smiling despite the pain of your split lip, as you went to find bath supplies.

“Wasn’t aware I talked so much.” He laughed, shaking his head and making his way to the bedroom.

“You always talk, Jesse.” You were already halfway into the bathroom, a towel in hand, when you heard him laugh in reply.

You took your time removing your armor and torn, military grade suit. It wasn’t often that you came out of a skirmish so battered, so the shock didn’t fully register until you’d locked yourself in the room alone. Sighing, you focused on getting out of you clothes and tried to ignore the sounds of bullets echoing in your head. It was more painful a process than you’d expected, as you’d gotten grazed by more bullets and scraped by more gravel than you cared to admit.

Just as you let out a hiss, there came a knock on the bathroom door. You heard Jesse’s spurs jangle before he spoke. “You alright, darlin’? I left some clothes out on a chair here.”

You called out, “Just fine, Jesse! Thank you, I’ll grab them on my way out.”

“Sure thing.” He smiled as he spoke, and though you couldn’t see it, you could hear it in voice.

It made you smile as well, knowing you had your best friend looking out for you. The longer you thought about Jesse and his kindness, his thoughtful but flirty nature, the more your cheeks reddened and stomach fluttered. You’d harbored feelings for the modern gunslinger for a long time, nearly as long as you’d been friends. It was something you kept to yourself, mainly because of Blackwatch’s strict dating guidelines for its agents. Stepping into the shower, you knew the next 48 hours would be tough to get through. 

_________

Stepping out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, you found yourself staring directly at the bare chest of your cowboy partner. “Jesse.”

“Darlin’.” The smile on his face grew, becoming a large smirk, as he noticed the blush across your face. “Clothes are over there. Mind gettin’ out o’ the way? Man’s got to shower just as much as the next person.”

You shook your head, blinking quickly as you looked back at his face. “You’re the one in my way, Jesse.”

Chuckling, he stepped aside and let you grab the clothes before heading into the bathroom. The image of his bare chest replayed in your mind as you dressed, despite you having seen him that way before. Jesse was built well, sturdy and muscular. His body had definition and flexed with strength when he moved. Slim, muscled, and padded in just the right places, you’d say. Attractive. That’s what it was. Jesse had an attractive body and personality. 

Perhaps that’s why you’d spent so long harboring feelings for him, when you could have tried getting over it. Jesse was a good man, though he had his flaws, and he was always kind to you. He had been your first friend in Blackwatch, your first confidant. You’d been thick as thieves for the longest time, attached at the hip. You’d known him for so long, that it hadn’t been a surprise to you that you found his body similarly attractive. It had been painful to watch him go through relationships and flings, wishing one day he would chose you and stay.

Sighing, you tried to get rid of those intrusive thoughts by taking care of your injuries. Knowing Jesse McCree so well also meant knowing his trouble with commitment and genuine emotion. He got scared, you could easily tell, and pushed people away when they got close. He may have been worth it, worth the bumps in the road, but no one else knew him enough to know that. Not like you did. 

Clink. Clink. Clink. Your thoughts were interrupted by McCree coming out of the shower, fully dressed, and fiddling with his peacekeeper. He seemed to have taken care of his flesh wounds while in the bathroom, a couple bandages visible beneath the black shirt he wore. His damp hair stuck to his forehead, no hat on his head, and accentuated the small cut running down his temple.

He barely looked up as he stopped in the doorway. “Darlin’-”, He started.

You shook your head, standing to take his pistol from his grip. “Let me look at that cut, Jesse.”

Looking up at you, he gave you a gentle smile. “No need, darlin’, it’s not very deep. Ought to heal like a charm.”

“No, sir, can’t have that getting infected now. Besides,” You glanced at the only, small bed in the room and then at the couch just beyond the doorway to the room. “We can talk about sleeping arrangements as I do.”

Wordlessly, he sat at the edge of the bed and let you get to work. “You know, that couch is old.”

“Mhm,” You focused on your task, making sure to pay attention to his words nonetheless. “It’ll likely be a back killer.”

“Absolutely. Reckon I should take it.” He moved his head a little, wincing at the pressure you put against the cut.

“I have the better back, Jess.”

“Sure, but we wanna keep it that way. ‘Sides, I wouldn’t be much o’ a gentleman if I let you take it, would I?” His comment made you laugh and he smiled at you, glad to see you so happy.

“Stuck in the West again? Acts of chivalry are rare nowadays, Jess.” You said and pulled your hands away from his face, finished with your work.

“We could share.” His suggestion threw you off, especially when you saw he wasn’t joking. 

“You sure?” Your voice was a little nervous as you spoke, something he picked up on.

“As the day I was born. Only if you’re comfortable, darlin’.” 

“Yeah. Okay,” You smiled, helping him to his feet.

________

Jesse was wide awake, his thoughts running a mile an hour. On his back, he could feel where your back met his side, he could feel each even breath you took. He didn’t have any reason to suspect you were awake. You lay facing away from him, eyelids heavy, breath even, and mind somewhere else. He assumed you’d fallen asleep.

With a soft sigh, he pulled his hands from behind his head and turned around. He tried his best not to wake you, keeping his chest from being flush against your back. He tried his best to keep his hands from touching you, but couldn’t help it when he reached up to brush some hair out of your face. It caught your attention, but you didn’t move, too sleepy to care. You just listened as he sighed once more and shifted just a little closer. 

“Darlin’,” He whispered. “I’ve gotten ‘round to thinkin’...”

He paused, almost as if trying to convince himself to stop talking. “I’ve been thinkin’, and I can’t live without you. I’m scared. I’ve loved you for so long now but I’m jus’ so afraid. I could’ve lost you today. I don’t know what went wrong, I don’t want that fear of not knowing in my heart, but I ain’t strong enough to tell you-”

He took a deep, steadying breath before reaching out to you. He wrapped his arm around your waist and, carefully so as to not ‘wake’ you, pulled you completely into him. “Look at me. Confessin’ in the dark while you sleep, not hearin’ a word. It’s pathetic. Truth is, no matter how much I try, I can’t seem to say the words to your face. I want to look at you and say it, I want to keep you close, but I’m a coward. I’ve never been the type of man to commit to no one like that. I don’t think I’m the kind of man to love like that. Never have been. But damn, darlin’, if I can’t help wantin’ that with you. Want to keep you safe, by my side, always, but... but I ain’t the type of man worthy of you like that...”

He trailed off and you, now wide awake, could feel small drops of water hit the back of your neck. Jesse McCree, the strong, charming cowboy was crying. It broke your heart, so much so that all the words you’d thought to say to him left your mind. He was so worth it, so much more than he gave himself credit for, and you loved him. Just as he was.

Turning around, you watched his face mold from sorrow into shock. He tried speaking, but you didn’t give him the chance, “Darlin’-”

Your lips met his before he could utter any more words. It was a soft, emotional kiss that tasted of salt. His tears fell harder, and you only pulled away to hug him closer. Wrapping your arms around him and locking your legs together, you didn’t have to say much to get him to hear you.

“You are my everything, Jesse. I’ve always loved you.”

[matan4il]

OK I hope this makes sense because I feel like some of my thoughts have been a little crystallized and I'm hoping for your opinion since your actually queer and very insightful.

So I know some fans pine for the days of the early promotion of Buddie when Stark and Guzman did goofy things together and even attended award shows. I get it and I missed it a little too. But I always felt like when the show settled on this was a true love scenario they scaled back on it for reasons of not making it silly or meme worthy.

Then all the interviews for My Policeman came out and Dawson and Styles addressing their approach to love scenes and their friendship and how they handle it now. They speak of it rather beautifully and they want you to see it that way. But also address their roles as actors friends, the promise to always smile and hug forever.

And that brought me back to Brokeback Mountain and Jake and Heath were protective of their roles. Even Jake later coming out and saying that Heath refused to be and Oscar skit because he didn't want it to be a "gay joke". He just wanted people to see the love.

So again it brought back to why in my head the change in the promotion changed and this really was what I was thinking. If they make Buddie Canon I don't think they ever want it to be funny or like a meme you know. I'm not implying either are deep in the closet characters but they are definitely different then say TK and Carlos. Especially TK who's main struggles aren't his sexuality, it's his internal trauma. Or that they are even the same as Henren.

Especially coupled with the fact that both Oliver and Ryan are very masculine men you know. They are friends. I feel like they want it to be respected.

Also off topic Didn't you also post some lovely gifs of was it Russian WW2 military queer movie? I never watched the show but I remember looking them up after you posted them. What was it called?

I probably sound a little caffeine induced but hopefully some of my point made sense.

Hi wonderful Nonnie!

Thank you so much for this lovely ask! And if it’s okay, I’ll start by addressing Firebird, the Russian queer film for which I posted the gifset you mentioned here. I am SO happy you liked the set (the original post has a link to the movie’s homepage, BTW), and you should def watch the film! It’s visually stunning, the love story is very moving IMO and the thing that got to me the most is that it’s a real story. It’s not WWII, but the 1970′s, the height of the communist regime. As someone whose family suffered under the communists after the end of the Nazis and Fascists’ era, I have to admit that speaks to me. My great uncle wrote a book about what it was like for my family, being Jews under the communists, when the individual was considered the property of the state, so it could do with him or her as it wishes, and when anyone could report you to the party with real or made up accusations that were always taken at face value. Add antisemitism, homophobia or any other type of bigotry to that type of society, and you can understand why a gay love story during that time is especially poignant. One of the two men whose romance is depicted was involved in the making of the film, because he wanted their story known. Here’s just the first gif from that set:

As for promotion, I have no doubt that Ryan and Oliver would not want Buddie taken as a joke. Both of these men are, like the other actors you mentioned, very protective of their characters and clearly understand them in depth. They’ve also both spoken up in favor of Buddie, so should our ship go canon, undoubtedly they’d want it to be treated with respect. IDK if that’s the only reason why the promotion has been shaped as it has been. There’s also been drama that I think in general made Ryan for a long while there wanna do PR a lot less. But I have no doubt that if and when Buddie go canon, they will talk about it, and will do so with the utmost love for this pairing and their family unit. I think they all know what Buddie would mean to queer viewers, like when you look at that supportive vid JLH sent for a same sex couple who are Buddie fans. Hell, even Gavin, who plays Chris, has been asked about Buddifer becoming a family, and he said he would love that. We have never seen them treating the idea of Buddie with anything other than respect and positivity, and if that’s the case before our boys have even gone canon...

I hope I managed to answer the question! I’m so grateful for your kind words and for your interest in my perspective. Have a beautiful day, lovely! xoxox

(and as always, if anyone’s looking for it, here is my ask tag! xoxox)

[meetmymouth]

when sunny met harry (2) : harry styles imagine

read part one here summary: harry and y/n break up but they’re not the only ones suffering. their -now her- golden retriever sunny thinks harry’s coming back.

Just like everyday, as soon as she turns the lock, Sunny comes running to the front door, nails ‘clicking’ on the wooden floor as he jumps up and down on the other side of the door. As soon as the door’s unlocked and opened fully, Sunny leaves no time for hellos or any other form of greeting before he’s on her. It’s Friday night which is why there’s a bag for life full to the brim with groceries next to her backpack and Sunny takes it upon himself to sniff around the packaged food as if he’s looking for food.

It’s also the night Harry’s finally coming to see Sunny.

A month has passed since the phone call and it was last week when Harry’s name appeared on her phone, messaging to see if he could visit Sunny soon. Truth be told, she wasn’t ready to see him just yet. She knew she could’ve said no, or told him she would let him know when it would be a good time to visit but one look at Sunny’s way, she had caved in. Or was the look for reassurance only? She had accepted it in a heartbeat because deep down, she knew Sunny wasn’t the only one missing him.

And now there she was, trying to ignore Sunny as he barked relentlessly at the hoover.

When she reaches the corner of the sofa, Sunny comes closer to her and barks directly at Hetty the Hoover as if he’s trying to set some ground rules.

“Sunny, no!” The hoover is now turned off and she tries moving Sunny away from poor Hetty.

“Leave her alone! Sunny, down. Come ‘ere!”

Sunny does come, and she sits his bum down at her feet and stares at Y/N as if she’s going to reward him for being a menace.

“Why are you such a dickhead, huh,” she gives a pat to his fluffy head. “Do you know who’s coming to see you? Wanna wear your nice collar?”

As the pets continue, she feels a sudden pang of sadness at the memory of seeing Harry for the last time in this flat.

She thought about the look on his face; his beautiful eyes all glassy and lips pouty. Dark circles under his eyes and a large box full of his own share of vinyls to accompany his reluctant posture. How alien and hesitant he had looked in the middle of their, now her, living room.

She tries remembering the last conversation they had, last proper conversation before everything happened but Sunny’s heavy panting interrupts her thoughts and she heaves a sigh.

“Do you...” she extends the word deliberately knowing it will hype him up. “...know who’s comin’ to see your squishy mug today?”

This does nothing to hype him up though. Sunny remains seated at her feet, tongue slightly out as he stares at Y/N’s face as if she’s talking nonsense. “Harry’s coming, Sunny.”

At the mention of Harry’s name, Sunny’s goes crazy. He starts jumping up and down -as much as he can with the limited space between him and the sofa- and his tail keeps wagging in sync with his hoarse barking.

Although she too feels giddy about having Harry in the flat again -though she has to repeat the reason why he’s visiting in the first place every five minutes-, she’s also worried that her next door neighbour Mr. Yoni will knock on her door with puckered lips and slit eyes. As soon as she opens the door, Mr. Yoni will sigh and Y/N will start apologising, trying to bribe him with a cuppa and Tesco’s bourbon biscuits she knows he likes.

As she writes and plays the scenario in her head, she also keeps tidying up the living room, fixing up the pillows, collecting empty mugs and some pens scattered around. When she starts doing the washing up, she hears Sunny chewing the bone Harry’s gotten him and can’t help but roll her eyes at how sentimental she’s being. Exes and a dog.

So what, she thinks, are we going to co parent a bloody dog now? Saying yes to him visiting was a weakness on her part. She knew it was. She’s also not expecting them to get back together just because Harry’s coming to see Sunny. No. She has to get her shit together.

Harry’s charming. Interesting. Lovable and endearing. From the first night she’s laid her eyes on him; in his stupid corduroy trousers and a fuzzy striped cardigan, she knew she couldn’t forget him after that night. She was totally mesmerised by him. By his face. Yes, he was handsome- he is handsome. But he was also beautiful. Pretty. He had soft features, delicate... but there was also a sharpness to him, could cut you with his affection as soon as your eyes met across the room. His love could kill you. He could’ve told you the earth was flat and you would think ‘well, this kid is onto something’. It was his charm and the general aura to him that held you back from questioning him and his actions.

When they first met, he had just gotten out of a relationship. She knew because they ran in the same circles. She knew of him. They’ve been to the same birthday parties and even one or two weddings. Despite that, they had never spoken to each other before that night. So when they shook hands at a close friend’s birthday party that night, his hand still damp from the beer bottle he was holding, she knew she had to get closer to him, she wanted to be the reason behind that dimple appearing and the crinkle by his eyes when he smiled, his two larger front teeth peeking between his parted lips.

Though, much to her dismay, they didn’t hit it off like it happened in the movies. Theirs was a civil introduction. Nice… friendly. She couldn’t say much and the conversation died quickly as he was swept away from her by his friends. She had later learned that he found her annoying at first. In his words, she looked like she was better than anyone in that room. In her defence, it was because she was mesmerised by him and well, she wasn’t exactly the social butterfly Harry seemed to be. They always laughed it off though, with drunken smiles and chuckles between wet, sloppy kisses. It took them six months of friendship until she had enough and asked him out. One day while sipping margaritas in her garden, she had had enough and called him out. ‘Bloody hell you’re stubborn as fuck’ she said, ‘you’ve been looking at my arse all day and I’m pretty sure you’ve been eyeing my lips since like last month. So either come kiss me or just… keep it in your pants’. And then there he was, making a move.

Seven months into their relationship, Sunny became a member of their- well mostly Y/N’s family. They were happy. Sometimes too happy that it kept her up at night, wondering if the universe was plotting something against them soon. Turns out it wasn’t. They were just Harry and Y/N. Too comfortable with each other. Too in love. Too happy. Until the bickering had begun. At first it was mostly because Y/N kept putting his clothes in the wash before they got ‘really dirty’. Or how Harry kept making a mess in the shower, never cleaning up after himself, leaving his hairy razor on the counter. And it didn’t help when he started spending most of his free time in Los Angeles while she worked in London. It wasn’t only his fault. She had also stopped making time for regular phone calls as he kept them no longer than ten minutes and it went from long, meaningful chats to Harry talking more about his friends and their adventures than himself. In return, Y/N more or less, and perhaps without realising, started cutting their conversations short and vague because ‘I think the chicken’s ready, I’ll ring later’ or ‘Sunny’s chewing my shoes again, gotta go’.

When he came back from LA, everything started going downhill as if they weren’t bad enough before. Y/N started feeling uneasy in his presence; feeling self-conscious, mostly when they ate, when he came to have a wee while she showered or when they had sex. It also didn’t help how they always had people around. They didn’t get much free time to themselves. It was always Harry and Y/N… and the others. So it was a gradual thing, the fall of their relationship. And when they officially ended things, he not only left her heart in pieces but also another, much tinier heart was more or less broken. Sunny’s.

She puts those thoughts away and focuses on the washing up in front of her, snorting at how she’s been rinsing the same mug since God knows when despite it looking squeaky clean. Taking off one of the gloves, she touches the screen of his phone and her eyes widen at the time. Harry would be here any minute and she didn’t even have the heart to change into something more comfortable.

She decides on a cup of tea and spots the opened package of cheese twists and perches on the sofa. TV’s on, filling the flat with Alan Carr’s distinct voice as Sunny comes up and places his head on Y/N’s leg, looking as precious as ever.

“God forbid I eat anything by myself. You silly boy,” She breaks one of the cheese sticks in half and throws it next to his paws. “There you go.” As soon as the stick hits the floor, it’s gone in seconds as Sunny tries to lick the remnants of the cheese stick off of his face and the wooden floor.

Two more cheese sticks later, she gets a text from Harry letting her know that he’s here, at the door.

As she makes her way towards the front door, Sunny follows behind. Her heart starts beating faster and she feels her cheeks heat up, having an epiphany that Harry’s here, on the other side of the door. Sunny barks once as her hand reaches the door handle as if he knows who’s here. As soon as the door opens, their eyes meet and it’s like someone’s pouring hot water down her head. Harry opens his mouth but he gets interrupted when Sunny spots him.

Y/N watches as the two go crazy for each other, Sunny jumping up and down, trying to get his paws on every part of Harry’s body as Harry tries crouching down to pet him.

“Dear God you’ve gotten huge! Sunny! Bloody hell- ouch- stop biting m’ankles!”

“Come inside, he’s inviting you in,” she mutters and immediately regrets that stupid remark. As if it’s Harry’s first time meeting Sunny.

He looks up again and gives her a smile. “Are you inviting me in?” He says, tone as playful as ever. He glances down at Sunny again before she catches his eyes.

“Come in before he has a heart attack trying to get all your attention.”

“Always been an attention seeker, am I right Sunny boy?”

After he takes his shoes off, they make their way inside, careful not to trip and fall since Sunny’s still trying to catch Harry by his ankles. She sits on the far end of the sofa as Harry crouches down to give Sunny a proper cuddle.

The dog looks like he’s having the time of his life as Harry scratches his head, massages behind his ears and gives him gentle pats on his furry bum and Y/N tries hard not to cringe at the dog hair swirling in the air. He looks mesmerised by Harry and Y/N can’t blame him. When Sunny sneaks in a couple of licks, they both laugh as Harry wipes the sticky saliva with the arm of his thick jumper.

“Alright, alright, chill.” He gets up despite Sunny’s whines and his attention is now on Y/N.

“Hi,” she can’t help but give him a little wave from the sofa.

“Alright?”

“Mhm. Want a cuppa?”

“Would kill for one actually,” he grins impishly and Y/N’s already on her feet, walking towards the kitchen.

When she glances back, Harry’s following and just like before, Sunny’s following close behind as if he’s being pulled by an invisible string. Clingy dog. She wonders if he’s feeling the things she’s too afraid to feel ever since Harry’s stepped into her flat.

They wait for the kettle in a slightly awkward silence as she takes the time to get used to his presence in her home again. It’s bittersweet, having him in the kitchen. Like when he used to wake up in the mornings and make a mess which he referrer as making breakfast. If it weren’t for the sound the kettle was making, she swears she could still hear the clatter of cutlery and Harry swearing loudly whenever he dropped something on the floor.

“Thanks for, you know, thanks for this.”

“Don’t worry about it, Harry. He’ll probably go ballistic as soon as you leave but I know you were missing him so… yeah.”

He gives her a sad smile and looks down at the dog who’s laying at his feet.

“Does he bark... always? Like, how bad does it get?”

“Well,” she puts the teabags in the mugs. “He sits in front of the door and barks non-stop as soon as I’m home. He usually tires himself out by the time I’m out of the shower but it’s been worse lately.”

As she pours the water, Harry glances at the fridge and a snort leaves her mouth at how reluctant he looks.

“Wha’?”

“I know you wanted to get the milk out. Just- don’t make this awkward. You can open the fridge without my permission.”

He gives her a pout and she has to turn her back to him and fiddle with the spoons for an unnecessary amount of time so that she doesn’t reach out and pinch his lips.

“I didn’t want to act like I own the place,” he mutters, milk in hand and Sunny all perked up at the sound of the fridge.

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly.”

The milk is back in the fridge, teabags stored back in the cupboard, kitchen light is turned off and they find themselves on the opposite sides of the sofa. Y/N sits cross legged on the spacious sofa while Harry’s looking oh so formal, one hand holding his tea and the other scratching Sunny’s fluffy neck who’s still not letting him out of his sight.

“You comfy there?”

Harry looks up, startled, and chuckles. “Erm, yeah. Why?”

“Dunno, you just look like you’re ready to run as soon as your tea’s finished.”

She knows she’s not subtle, judging his every move ever since he laid foot in the house. It’s not like she wants him to feel uncomfortable or guilty. It’s the opposite really; she doesn’t want to see him look so uncomfortable and on edge. It’s selfish really because it’s only been months after their breakup. Of course they both felt uncomfortable and awkward. And when he looks like his one foot is out of the door, Y/N feels horrible. She feels like it’s her own fault that he’s not feeling welcome.

“I just- I don’t know the limits? Like…” he places his tea on a coaster and clears his throat. “Like how comfortable should I get? Or- should we get? Am I allowed to sit all relaxed on the sofa…”

“Look, I get it. I’m sorry. I’m acting like a kid,” she takes a sip from her tea.

“Maybe- maybe I shouldn’t have suggested it this soon?” Harry more or less whispers, as if he’s walking on thin ice and he is. They both know it.

And well. Is he wrong? Were they stupid? Was she stupid, having his ex over for the sake of a bloody dog? Who was she kidding? She selfishly wanted to be in his presence again and she used both Harry and Sunny.

The awkward silence now increases as she tries to find something to say.

She wishes she was Sunny. Not because he’s still at Harry’s feet, head laid upon his socked feet but because he’s probably clueless to what’s been going on.

“Y/N?”

When she looks up, Harry’s still looking at her. His eyes are full of concern and she hates how familiar it looks.

“Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry. I don’t feel unwelcome at all. I know that’s what you’re thinking,” he gives her a tiny smile and her eyes fall to his dimple.

“You’re right though. I think we both acted without thinking. I mean, it’s kind of my fault anyway. Calling you like that-”

“No-”

She shakes her head feverishly. “Yes. Ringing my ex as if Sunny’s a baby and he won’t fall asleep until his daddy wishes him good night.”

It’s dead silent until a snort comes out of Harry’s mouth and Y/N raises her eyebrows.

“Well he kinda is a baby, in’ he?” He reaches and pats Sunny in the head, making him perk up at the attention being given to him again. “And I am the daddy so…”

When he looks up though, Y/N’s watching him with an unimpressed look on her face.

“Too soon?”

“Not surprised at your inability to read the mood. Always cheeky. You done seducing that tea?”

When she stands up, Sunny does too. He knows she’s making her way to the kitchen with her tea in hand so he would normally follow close behind, thinking she’s going to fetch him more snacks.

He laughs at that though. He does because they get each other’s weird sense of humour.

“Nah I’m trying to see if I can finish it.”

“I won’t even take offence at that. I know I make a mean cuppa so, suit yourself.”

She tries passing him but he stops her.

“Come on, please sit down. I won’t get mad if you do the washing up after I leave,” he gives her a smile and surprisingly, it’s enough to make her sit down.

He waits for her to speak but it never comes. They sit in silence while Harry pets Sunny aimlessly.

“Can we- can I continue what I was saying before?”

“What? About you being a daddy?”

He snorts at that, the same hand that was petting Sunny now coming up to his head, fingers running through his hair so effortlessly. She watches as the hairs glide smoothly between his long, ring cladded fingers.

“No,” he rolls his eyes but a there’s a hint of smile there somewhere.

When their eyes meet, she smiles at him, properly smiles at him for the first time that night. When he returns it with his own dimpled smile, she almost forgets. She forgets why he came and for a second, it feels like they’re back in time. Back to when they spent most of their nights in front of the TV. Sunny curled up and snoring by the sofa while Y/N played with Harry’s hair, their legs tangled and his back against her chest. It takes her a minute to understand why Harry looks so confused.

“Sorry, I’m just really tired,” she murmurs.

“’s okay. I’m kinda glad you didn’t hear what I so bravely confessed there,” he chuckles at the ground and the sound makes Sunny lay his head against his legs, asking for more pets.

Despite his vagueness, she smiles at his boyish charm. “What was it?”

“Nah, not tellin’ you now,” he smirks, never once looking up from his petting session with Sunny.

A sigh leaves her mouth and that’s when he looks her way.

Were they flirting? Could exes flirt? Should they flirt?

And wait, did he get a new ring?

“Was it about my poor taste in cushions again?” She smirks, trying to sound as nonchalant as she can.

“Well-”

He tries getting comfortable on the sofa, leaning back and crossing his legs but Sunny starts barking as if to complain about Harry’s divided attention. He reaches down and gives him a pet but never once takes his eyes off of her.

It’s quiet after that. None of them speak. They lose the eye contact as soon as Sunny abruptly gets up from his laying position and walks to his water bowl, both of them watching him leave.

“He’ll bite my ear off as soon as you leave tonight,” Y/N mumbles, trying to pass it off as a joke but Harry doesn’t smile.

Instead, he sighs and scratches his knee. “I actually saw Sunny the week you called me… your brother was walking him near Gemma’s house and- well, yeah.”

At the news, she feels an anger bubble up inside her. Not towards Harry -maybe a little- but towards her brother. Since her brother’s not here, she’s going to take it out on Harry.

“Why didn’t you tell me when I rang? You- I, oh God. I’m such a fucking idiot. You came here out of pity and not because you missed Sunny, right?” She keeps going as if someone’s been timing her. “You probably laughed after right? At how pathetic I was? You should’ve told me!”

“Well, I didn’t! It’s not a big deal-” he tries again but she cuts him off and he’s slightly taken back by her widened eyes.

“Not a big deal? You came here because you pitied me! Well fuck, I know it’s pitiful but you shouldn’t-”

“I wasn’t missing the bloody dog, I only saw him that week! I used him to see you!”

She freezes, trying to process his words but as always, Sunny steals the show.

This time, he’s choking on his water.

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[siriusbunbryist]

In defence of Abed x Annie.

Thanks to the magic of Netflix, I’ve rewatched Community at age 24, and still found Abed and Annie to have hit the heartstrings as much as I did when I was in high school watching the show for the first time.

But watching the series in its entirety just reinforces my thought that Abed and Annie had so much potential that was wasted, and it’s a shame that the writers planted all these seeds to only decide that perhaps this direction was not worth it / too risky / unfavoured by the audience. But I mean, Alison Brie herself (and I’m assuming Danny Pudi as well) endorsed them! Find here and here.

This was a pairing that with all the crumbs scattered throughout the show (I think we are all aware of these crumbs I speak of), could’ve easily played the “oh we’ve been secretly dating this whole time” trope during the last episode and it would’ve still made sense.

Naturally I did some scoping, and of course unsurprisingly the J.eff x Annie pairing takes the cake, while not a lot of love for Abed x Annie. So here are common points of contentions I see surrounding Abed and Annie, and my rationale on them.

Before I start, a note - I fully respect the J.eff x Annie ship and I don’t intend on starting a ship w.ar/debate. I understand where their support comes from! I just needed to vent because no one else in my social circle watches this show. No hate please.

1. Abed doesn’t see Annie romantically

I think on the contrary it’s been set up rather long ago that Abed at the very least is attracted to Annie.

Exhibit A: “What are you making” in Beginner Pottery

Exhibit B: “Flat B.utt and the one Abed wants to nail” in The Art of Discourse

This video basically explains it! The summary: Annie is Pierce’s favourite, Pierce constantly insults Britta, therefore Britta is flat b.utt.

Exhibit C: Not even trying to hide it in Accounting for Lawyers

But, a romantic interest has to be further built upon finding someone attractive right? There has to be intrigue to their character, such as

Exhibit D: “I can only connect to people through... movies” in English as a Second Language

It is pretty obvious here that Annie is a rare someone who has successfully broken the impartial screen that Abed filters everything through. Jeff saw it too which is why he said Annie was the ark of the covenant before Abed fell for her disney face. I can only imagine Abed to be quite struck with Annie’s infiltration.

A romantic interest should also share common interests, such as

Exhibit E: “Which makes Annie is my third favourite show” in Paranormal Parentage

I’ve said before that for Abed, a guy who lives life and communicates through comparing it with television and movies, it’s not unthinkable for him to be attracted to someone who genuinely watches his favourite shows and commits to roles during cosplay. And who, besides Troy, would fit this profile? Annie. 

And finally, the biggest indicator of it all, we also see how Abed views the Jeff and Annie pairing in everyone’s favourite episode Remedial Chaos Theory. Keeping in mind that the timelines are rendered by Abed, out of all the timelines, J.eff and Annie only kis.sed when Abed left the room for pizza. As well, as conjured in Abed’s head, Evil Jeff and Evil Annie only existed as a couple in the Darkest Timeline. To me at least, it’s arguable that this alludes to Abed’s omniscient “director” standpoint that he may be the obstacle in the Jeff and Annie relationship - pointing towards him perhaps harbouring feelings for Annie.

2. Annie doesn’t see Abed romantically The general consensus on this point is that Annie is only attracted to Abed when he’s playing a character. I rather think that being attracted to someone, and being attracted to someone during role play, aren’t mutually exclusive. Let’s take a look at the different characters that Abed played.

Don Draper: serious, sophisticated, and smooth.

Han Solo: immature, flirty and a smarta.ss.

Batman: mysterious, complex, and brave.

Three different personas, yet Annie responded to all of them. Since the common denominator to all three is that they are played by Abed, I would like to offer a counterpoint that perhaps the attraction to Abed has always been there, it’s just emphasized when Abed plays a character. Who knows, role playing might even be Annie’s ki.nk. After all, during For a Few Paintballs More, it is shown that Annie is disappointed when Abed dropped the Han Solo persona after the battle ended.

Annie also loves big romantic gestures. Who’s better than doing that than Abed? Since the beginning, Abed has already been doing big romantic gestures of varying degrees for Annie. With this, it’s not ridiculous for Annie to see Abed as a romantic potential.

Exhibit F: Staying in a room for 26 hours in Social Psychology

Annie: You sat in a room for twenty-six straight hours. Didn’t that bother you?  Abed: Yeah I was livid.  Annie: Then why didn’t you leave?  Abed: Because you asked me to stay and you said we were friends.

Exhibit G: Rescuing her from “captivity” and inviting her to move in in Remedial Chaos Theory and Studies in Modern Movement (even Troy was surprised at Abed’s invitation)

Exhibit H: Tearing down the Dreamatorium in Studies in Modern Movement

Annie: What about the Dreamatorium? Abed: Oh it's staying. The Dreamatorium is more important than any of us. But you're more important than our bedroom so we put the bunk bed in the blanket fort.

Bonus: Confirmed by Alison Brie

3. The show was about Jeff and Annie

Dan Harmon said that Community’s approach is that anything and any pairing is possible. We see this is as the series started with the classic “player vs smart snarky girl” trope with setting up Jeff and Britta as the main pairing. We also see Troy and Annie as the potential B couple in the show. The writers also threw Pierce and Shirley, Annie and Britta, Dean and Jeff, and even Chang and Britta in for a laugh.

And then the show subverted this all by introducing Jeff and Annie, and made Troy and Britta a couple, showing us that Community is a show that intends on breaking these classic sitcom stereotypes by experimenting with different pairings. Abed and Annie was no exception to this, as the writers often pair them up in different shenanigans and hint at possible grounds to explore*.

A few examples: Han and Leia in For a Few Paintballs More, Hector the Well Endowed and the Elf Maiden in Advanced Dungeons and Dragons, spy partners in Modern Espionage.

No doubt that the show dabbled in and out of Jeff and Annie throughout the series. However, to say that Jeff and Annie was the primary pairing in the series would mean overlooking Jeff and Britta. Especially when Jeff and Britta have the whole love-hate dynamic, three(?) marriage close-calls, and emotional snippets such as helping Jeff reunite with his father in Cooperative Escapism in Familial Relations.

Anyway, not to discredit Jeff and Annie, but knowing that the show explores the possibility of different pairings**, why write off Abed and Annie?

* Not to mention that the cop pairing in The Science of Illusion was originally written with Abed and Annie in mind! ** We also see a stray Abed and Britta during Horror Fiction in Seven Spooky Steps.

4. Annie is in love with Jeff To keep this short and shipper-goggle free, Annie has said on numerous occasions that she’s in love with the idea of Jeff, not Jeff himself. Specifically this scene in Virtual Systems Analysis:

Abed as Annie: "…We love Jeff…" Annie: "No we don’t, we’re just in love with the idea of being loved. And if we can teach a guy like Jeff to do it, we’ll never be unloved, so we keep running the same scenario over and over hoping for a different result."

And this scene in Conventions of Space and Time:

Annie: All right, I may have been play-acting that we were married, and then the staff thought you were cheating, and I had to save face. Jeff: Do I have to worry about this? Annie: No, I was just daydreaming. I mean, I've married you at least a half a dozen times. And Troy. And Zac Efron.

Not to mention that their conversation in the finale says it all.

Jeff: I don't wanna be fine. I wanna be 25 and heading out into the world. I wanna fall asleep on a beach and be able to walk the next day, or stay up all night on accident. I wanna wear a white t-shirt without looking like I forgot to get dressed.* I want to be terrified of AIDS, I want to have an opinion about those, boring a.ss Marvel movies. And I want those opinions to be of any concern to the people making them. Annie: Well I want to live in the same home for more than a year, order wine without feeling nervous, have a resume full of crazy mistakes instead of crazy lies. I want stories and wisdom, perspective. I wanna have so much behind me I'm not a sl.ave to what's in front of me, especially those flavourless unremarkable Marvel movies.

*Shipper-goggle on: Part of me thinks this is a reference to Abed, whose iconic style almost exclusively comprises T-shirts. What Jeff is saying is that he wishes he is 25 again with his future open before him, someone who compatible with Annie, but here he acknowledges that he isn’t, and lets her go in the end.

5. Abed and Annie wouldn’t work as a couple Another point I see is that Abed and Annie are strictly platonic and are more like brother and sister. On the basis that they have made out a couple times and are attracted to each other, I would disagree with the sibling statement.  

Troy, in contrast to Abed, I think actually resembles a more sibling-like relationship with Annie. Although Troy and Annie have the strong friendship of Abed and Annie, when disregarding the high school crush stage of season 1, their storylines never dwelled further down an attraction path, nor was there any specific episode that was dedicated to a deep dive of vulnerabilities and confrontation between them. As a comparison, Troy and Britta had opportunities to explore these setups (Troy admitted to lying about his b.utt stuff story and Troy helped Britta face Blade) - an indication that Troy and Britta were heading into non-platonic territory. Jeff and Britta too, had several opportunities to confront their feelings (up till the very last season), a clear indication of a non-platonic relationship.

For Abed and Annie, what I think pulls their friendship towards actual love interest potential is best pinpointed to Virtual Systems Analysis. Annie’s participation in the Dreamatorium prompted her to not only fully submerge into the way Abed thinks and comprehends his surroundings, but she also got to understand and address Abed’s stubbornness and flaws in a vulnerable way, confronting some of her own flaws as well.

Abed as Shirley: Your hospital school, young lady, is a simulation being run through a filter of other people's needs. Abed's been filtered out because nobody needs him. Annie: I need him!

And to point out this little tidbit in VCR Maintenance and Educational Publishing,

Annie: That's why Abed is like a brother to me. You guys are so alike. Abed: I can't accept that based on one time machine story.

This whole episode, instead of establishing Abed is like Annie’s brother, I would argue is rather doing the opposite. Abed and Annie’s hyper antics in the episode were basically matched by Anthony and Rachel’s blatant indifference and confusion. For lots of Abed and Annie supporters, this episode was a major setback. But I think it instead highlights how in-sync they are with each other, which is a good thing.

Another point, despite Annie trying to prove otherwise, Abed and Anthony had different vibes, and each shared different dynamics with Annie. And as Anthony pointed out in the end, who were Abed and Annie trying to replace in the apartment? Troy. The person who they are trying to fill is Troy - their roommate, their brother, their best friend. Troy was the brother role that neither Abed and Annie can fill for each other.

In Basic Sandwich, we get this exchange:

Abed: The point is, this show, Annie, it isn't just their show. This is our show, and it's not over. And the sooner we find that treasure, the faster the Jeff-Britta pilot falls apart. Annie: Got it. Thank you, Abed. Abed: You're welcome. I have a girlfriend. Annie: What? Abed: You were about to start a kiss lean. Annie: I was not.

Not only did Abed saw right through Annie’s anxiety and comforted her in his own uniquely Abed way, but he also felt the need to remind her of his girlfriend. The fact that he broke the fourth wall here is likely the writers’ way to be meta, but simply acknowledging the tension and bond there says a lot in between the lines. If tension does not exist, there would be no need for this line.

Besides, instead of thinking that they’re strictly platonic (which of course is also okay), they would rather work great as a couple. In terms of opposites attract, Annie grounds Abed with just the right amount, while Abed clearly encourages Annie to be her true self and be immature. Such as this scene in Foosball and Nocturnal Vigilantism,

Annie: I’m following him.  Troy: You moving in here was supposed to tone us down!

Annie also doesn’t just tolerate Abed’s idiosyncrasies, she actually likes them and fully participates as multiple paintball games and cosplays would tell us. Special shoutout to the missing lovers footage in Wedding Videography, which through Britta, actually shows us that Annie is the only one who would go along with Abed’s projects - while Britta found the project extremely weird and unhealthy, Annie thought it was fun and commits well to her role.

And while others may tiptoe around Abed, Annie isn’t afraid to call Abed out when he’s out of line and makes a point to teach him about empathy in Virtual Systems Analysis. Remember that Britta tried teaching him this but it didn’t work as well.

I am Abed Nadir... And I don't know a lot of things everyone else knows. I wander the universe with my friend, Troy, doing whatever I want. Sometimes accidentally hurting innocent unremarkables. This week, however, Troy went to lunch and I adapted. I now have the ability to enter the minds of others using an elusive new technique known as "empathy".

As well as in the entire episode of Cooperative Polygraphy.

They also know each other best. Abed knew her cushion preferences, was the one who spelled out her true pas.sion for forensics, and after living together, Annie knew how to navigate Abed’s peculiarities and to soothe him whenever he had a nervous breakdown. 

Annie also knows him so well that she can predict his reaction.

They are also each other’s exception. Annie was always the one who manages to pull Abed out of a trance and back to reality, usually with touch.

Abed is also very forgiving with her. An example is when Annie seemingly lost all common sense because she broke Abed’s special edition dvd in Foosball and Nocturnal Vigilantism.

Annie: Well, Batman, on behalf of all of us that aren't perfect, can I just say I'm sorry I broke your DVD? Abed: Apology accepted. But I wouldn't mention it to Abed. That guy's pretty ruthless. And that's coming from Batman.

And in Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas, Annie was the only claymation doll that didn’t have a weird form (except Troy as toy soldier of course). Annie was a ballerina because Abed sees her as a creature of grace. Abed was also the first one who got her “brighter tomorrow” diorama and responded with enthusiasm.

They are also in the same stage in life. As Dan Harmon explains the choice of Abed and Annie being the ones who leave the group, with Troy gone, Abed and Annie symbolize the many possibilities of the future - a possibility that makes them viable. I like to think Annie transfers to the LA FBI office after her internship and they reunite.

And as the Spice Girls said, “if you wanna be my love.r, you gotta get with my friends”. In Paleyfest, Dan Harmon says this about whoever Troy and Abed ends up dating, “I mean a woman that comes into either of their lives is either going to drive them apart or she's going to have to be really accepting of a very special relationship”.

Britta tolerated their friendship but to a point of asking Annie to distract Abed for alone time with Troy, Troy dumped the librarian as she called Abed weird, Robin disappeared, Rachel we never got to see much of, but was pretty quiet and separated from the group. From this, logically speaking, Annie would actually be the perfect match for Abed, as we all know they’re the ultimate trio within the study group and a transition from friends to more will be natural. 

Oh, and, Abed is wrong. They’re not Chandler and Phoebe with little storylines together, they’re Chandler and Monica. 

Anyway, that’s it for my super long rant/analysis. Community the series is done and over, so there isn’t a need for any ship war. All I want to say is, if #andamovie happens, hopefully, the writers will actually take a leap.