#i've picked up money in the past while in town or going to school

[thetimelordbatgirl]

"Riles, how about I do what you do, and you do what you do?"-the credits should have rolled at that point in Girl Meets Belief, because its a good message on religious belief's, but nooo, this episode wants to force belief's down people's throats so can't have that be the message.

[unholyhelbig]

Would love some Kate Bishop angst

Title: Past Tense

Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 4027

Summary: Kate Bishop returns to her hometown unexpectedly following some bad news. She's shocked when she runs into you and struggles to grapple with her past choices.

Warnings: Funerals, hurt/comfort, drinking, work injury/ burns, spelling mistakes and grammar issues (I'm sure)

[A/n: Hello! Just a little disclaimer, this is probably going to be the last thing I can publish for the rest of the month. I've got a massive work project, I move this coming weekend, and it's my birthday at the end of the month so my time is quite limited. But things will pick up again next month]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Day had barely broken over the horizon, but the world around you was impossible to ignore. There had been snow the night before, something that everyone believed was too cold to be possible. A thin layer of ice had encrusted each car before the soft, powdery type had built up on windshields and culminated under tires.

Large, wet flakes swirled around you and despite the gloves that clung to your skin, they didn’t do much for the numbness in your fingers as you fumbled with the keys to the coffee shop. Moisture had wicked through the fabric, and you hastily took them off before flicking on the house lights.

It was just past 5am and the usual crowd of early risers were soon to arrive. You made quick work of starting all the machines, the cooling cases and the manual grinder. Your baker had been in earlier, filling the displays with various muffins, baked goods, and sweets. A smooth cinnamon scent filled the air and warmed you all over.

“Son of a bitch!” the muffled exclamation formed a smile against your lips.

MJ was bundled up in a sweatshirt, a flannel, and a heavy winter coat over that. Her boots were caked in dry snow. There was a deep red blush against her nose and her cheeks that accompanied her scowl.

“Language, there are children present.”

“We’re the same age!” Peter protested as he pulled himself through the back door. He was dressed in less layers but sported the same winter complexion. He shook the large flakes of snow from his sweater, mumbling “Son of a bitch.”

It was cold enough to warrant you closing the shop. Most of the schools and the businesses in town had called for a snow day, something that didn’t happen often in Connecticut. Frigid temperatures were expected. Below freezing was a way of life and the world didn’t stop craving warm coffee to thaw them out.

This fact was proven when you flipped the open sign and the typical crowd of tired eyes started to line up at the counter. Peter typically had too much energy, so MJ took up the register while her counterpart flitted around and filled the orders. Most were to-go.

You’d known these people for years. They’d come in with a habit that was unmatched by the weather and the any other obstacles thrown at them. Before you opened up ‘The Grindhouse’ you’d gone to high school with them.

Through all the proms, and the homecomings, and the house parties that left you vomiting in the yard amongst their parents’ flowerbeds. Since then, you’d grown up and couldn’t stomach more than a few shots or two glasses of wine, tops.

They’d grown up too, those who had stuck around town. They had families and businesses much like yours. You had homeroom with the accountant that had helped you hedge your money in the correct places, and you made the same bacon, egg, and cheese English muffin for the star football player that blew out his knee senior year.

“Welcome to Grindhouse,” you said distractedly at the sound of the bell above the door, working on clearing the fallen grounds from under the espresso machine. The rag was damp and the floor was already coated in little brown specs that needed to be swept up during a lull.

“What can I get started for you?” MJ asked in her usual cadence.

“Just a plain black coffee, please.”

Your body froze at the sound of the voice, hair falling into the gaze that you refused to lift. There was a strange mix of emotions in the pit of your stomach. That voice, with it’s familiar rasp was one you hadn’t heard for years. Nearly a decade. But it couldn’t be her, could it?

She’d left for New York right after high school. The last you heard, she’d become a doctor. An unrivaled cardiothoracic surgeon that flitted around the world wherever she was needed. There was no reason for her to be back in this small, freezing, end-of-the-earth town.

“That’ll be 2.25, we have cream and sugar on the far wall, but if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you.”

It was her. It was most definitely her. There was a crispness to her voice that you’d recognize anywhere. The last you remembered; it was whispered with a quickness that rivaled her hands. Her hands were everywhere. They were warm and calloused and gentle.

There was a sudden bubbling heat against the side of your hand. You hissed through your teeth and pulled back from the espresso machine. There was a large bubbling welt on your skin and a string of curses ready at your lips.

“Jesus, y/n are you alright?” Peter was at your side in a moment with a wet, clean cloth that he had run under cold water. “Do you need the burn kit?”

“No, no. I’ll be alright. Thanks Pete”

He was so attentive and clocked you with a worried stare but you reassured him with the squeeze of his shoulder with your good hand. If you were going to fly under the radar before, it would be impossible now.

You glanced over the counter, pressing the cloth even closer. Your suspicions had been confirmed by the tepid gray stare that met yours. Shock simmered behind Kate Bishops gaze, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand.

Suddenly, you felt dizzy. She looked a bit older in the face, more experienced. There was life there, a form of living that had lowered her shoulders and sealed her lips. The Kate you knew was a bumbling mess- but med school had effectively changed that.

“y/n,” She regarded you.

“Hi, Katie.”

That lopsided, sloppy grin was still the same. It reached her eyes and brightened them. You cradled your hand and reveled in the silence. Peter and MJ had frozen in place, flicking their eyes from you and then back to her.

“Want me to take a look at that hand?”

“What are you doing back in town?”

The two of you spoke at the same time and dissolved into nervous laughter. You shook your head. “I thought you were a surgeon?”

“I know how to treat a burn, y/n, don’t insult me.”

You often prided yourself on your strong will. If you had a weak one, it would have been impossible to build this coffee shop up from the rubble that it once was. Kate Bishop, Doctor Kate Bishop, had a way of melting your resolve.

Peter shoved the small plastic first aide kit into your hands and shoved you forward. There was no choice to hide your stumble other than a confident stride towards her. She led you to one of the tables that spanned the windows at the storefront. They were lined with frost, a biting cold fighting to get its way in.

Kate had about a half-inch on you and radiated a type of warmth that was unmatched. When she grabbed your sleeve and dragged you to a sitting position right across from her, you were practically putty in her hands.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you.” She spoke without looking at you, unlatching the kit and pulling on the blue latex gloves with practiced ease. She couldn’t see the look of shock on your face. “This place is beautiful. I remember when it was that pizza place.”

“Ah, pizzapocalypse. Who would have thought that a combination shooting range and Italian restaurant would fail?”

Kate chuckled and tenderly pulled your hand closer. Her touch was barely a whisper against your skin, strands of black hair falling into her eyes. She examined the angry red mark. It had already started to blister. The espresso machine was kept at unbelievable levels of heat.

She grabbed one of the wrapped applicators, using her teeth to tear away at the wax paper. Kate squeezed a small dollop of burn cream onto the end. You hated the cloudy clearness of the substance.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you too, you know?”

“Have you? This might sting a little bit. Do you want a countdown?”

“No, just do it I’m a brave- Fuck!” She’d already started, and you gave her a vicious glare. She shrugged with that infuriatingly perfect grin of hers. “I thought you were in New Zealand for some medical internship.”

“New Hampshire, actually. Not as exciting, I know. It was going well, but Eleanor died.”

There was a tightness to her voice. Typically, you looked away from anything involving wound care. If you were to get a shot, you’d stare at a small spot on the wall that interested you. Drawing blood was more of the same, it was just harder to ignore the needle in your arm.

Kate was working hard at the bandage in her hand and finally pulled it apart. Despite the frustration etched into her features, she applied it with a certain level of care. You didn’t’ say anything. Your hand was throbbing uncomfortably.

“She was old, we knew it was coming and pancreatic cancer, well, it’s a bitch by the end and Susan asked me to fly in for the funeral. How could I say no to that? Flying in for my mothers funeral when I was too busy working to witness her descent?”

“Katie,” You breathed out.

“That should be healed up in a few days. Make sure you change out the bandage.”

You couldn’t’ get a word in edgewise before she started to shove the contents of the case back into their proper places. The chair made a horrible scraping sound that you felt in your teeth. Kate grasped her coffee, colder than it was a few moments ago.

“Thank you for… this. I’m sure it’s delicious.” She had her hand on the door. Her quickness was unmatched. Both in and out of the OR, from what you had read. But she paused, looking at you for a moment. “I’m proud of you, y/n. This place is great. Really.”

Kate had vanished into the whiteness of the blistering day. You watched her navigate the snow with ease. Eleanor had died. How could you live in such a small town and not have heard about the woman’s passing?

The Bishop family was always a private bunch, and with Kate moving right after high school graduation, you hadn’t any reason to go past those wrought iron gates. Kate’s older sister would stop by for a hot drink once every other month or so, but you saw her coming from a mile away and selfishly hid in the back.

Eleanor had died.

There was a softness to her that you remembered fondly, a memory of Kate and you as children in the heat of summer. You’d been stung by a wasp and cried and cried until Eleanor rushed into the yard and scooped you into her arms.

Much like Kate had just done with her soft ministrations, she fixed you right up by applying a mix of warm water and baking soda. An old family remedy, she said. The venom had stopped screaming and the tears eventually stopped for both you and Kate.

Eleanor was a kind, if not private, woman. One that you thought of daily when you clocked the photo of High School Graduation on the dusty bookshelves in your living room. Your own mother hadn’t attended, but Eleanor was right there. She was right there.

“Who’s the girl?” MJ drawled out, leaning heavily on her hands, a goofy look on her face. Peter was next to her, doing the same, both eyebrows raised.

“Kate… She” You picked up the plastic first aide kit. The two of you had a habit of not sitting still and it was better to move to replace the supplies then let them sit out here. Besides, a customer could walk in at any moment. “We were engaged.”

Peter shot up “What?”

“It was a long time ago, it’s not important.”

“You were engaged, I think that’s important. How old are you?”

“First, rude, second; old enough. And really, guys it’s not a big deal. Both of us moved on. Life happened.”

They exchanged a look that, in the past, had never meant anything good. MJ had her arms crossed over her chest and Peter leaned heavily on a broom he had grabbed, hugging it lose to his chest. You rolled your eyes, attempting to ignore them both was impossible in a place this retrospectively small.

“I don’t know, boss. The way she was looking at you… maybe neither of you really moved on.”

“I write your paychecks; you understand that right?” You turned to face them. “Kate and I are done. We have been for a long time. She made that very clear when she gave the ring back and I refuse to push the matter.”

It was collecting dust on your bookshelf next to the photo of your graduation. It was a small emerald, green box that you hadn’t opened since you resituated the diamond ring. It had been stupid to propose, a last-ditch effort to get Kate to stay. She’d said yes. And then she said no.

The baker’s old Subaru wouldn’t start because of the bitter cold. It sounded like an old wife’s tale that made you chuckle to yourself while reading the text that popped across your screen.

Before you had hired him for the long nights, you’d done the baking yourself and it wasn’t a horrible chore. You’d just have to down some caffeine and slam it out; trays filled with mini cakes, with quiches, donuts and cheese tarts. It was like a methodical science project with the bonus of eating the food that didn’t look edible.

It was midnight by the time you’d pulled the first couple trays from the large industrial oven and exhaustion was starting to bay its head. You weighed the option of going home and just spreading out the pastries in the case.

All thoughts of sleep left your mind when a rapid banging filled the store. The front glass doors were being tugged upon. And while you were more than willing to die in this coffee shop, being robbed was not the way you wanted to go. There was less than three hundred dollars in the register.

You grasped at the broom, your hands covered in flower and caked on the bandage that was applied earlier. Another round of bangs as you tried to stay low and reach for the cordless phone. There was a silhouette outlined by the gray white of the snow.

Doctor Kate Bishop.

She’d given up on her breaking and entering and pressed her forehead against the glass, her breath fogging it up. It was hard to tell, but you were sure her eyes were clenched shut. There was a brown paper bag in one hand that looked suspiciously like a large bottle of alcohol.

Your grip was tight on the broom, even as you felt confident, and a little sad, about opening the door. Kate fell forward and a blast of cold enveloped you. She made a small noise at the back of her throat, regaining her posture.

“Were you going to sweep me to death?” Kate asked, “I brought whiskey.”

“Here I thought you weren’t going to come back here with the way you ran out earlier, and now you arrive with gifts?”

It was a low blow, but she had shrugged her shoulders with her goofy grin and snow in her messy hair. “Come drink with me, just for a little bit in our old spot. Don’t make me play the dead mom card.”

Saying no to Kate had always been hard for you. It had been hard when you were children and she dared you to jump from high places, always stopping you by the collar of your shirt before either of you got hurt. And it was especially hard to say no to Kate in your teens when she would kiss hot trails against your throat, marking them with bruises. Not that you were rushing to deny her.

“Really?” You asked, “Aren’t we a little old to be caught sneaking booze in the gym?”

Both of you knew for a fact that the side doors leading into the school would always be open. There were no alarms, or flood lights, because it was a small town and nothing bad ever happens in a small town.

She jutted out her bottom lip into a pout “Y/n, my mom died.”

“Okay, alright. Let me lock up.”

Kate stayed quiet on the three-block walk to the school. It was shrouded in darkness, an inky black despite the swirling gray of the night sky. Your high school had been the largest in the county; two floors filled with classrooms. You’d stuck to the same ones and Kate was the life of the party wherever she went, the bright spot in an otherwise dingy room.

The bottle of alcohol dangled by her side as your footfalls crunched over ice and an ugly brown slush of snow. It felt normal, almost, walking with her. Being with her. Staying in town was a brave choice after being dumped and equivocally left at the alter. You had powered through the looks and the whispered accusations. But some part of you was relieved she’d chosen this interaction to take place in the middle of the night.

When you’d gotten to the double doors of the large gymnasium, Kate’s boot slipped on a particularly nasty spot of ice. Instinctively you grasped her arm and righted her. She thanked you silently before pushing into the warmth of the space. The motion censor lights flicked on and you squinted against them.

“They built a new one, you know? A gym. I think they still use this for craft fairs. Fundraisers. But all the big stuff is off site in this state-of-the-art center.”

Kate blew out a breath, shaking her head. “Remember when Tommy Shepard broke your nose with a basketball?”

“Yeah, I do. I also remember sneezing right after and spraying him in blood. Everyone else was grossed out except for you.”

Kate dropped onto the large eagle in the center of the floor. Her legs were stretched out in front of her, and the bottle was idling between them. You let out a small groan as you joined her. Neither of you had ever been bold enough to inebriate yourselves in the crest. Instead, you’d hide behind the fold-out bleachers that were pushed against the walls, but this would do.

“That stupid EMT wouldn’t let me get on the ambulance with you.” The seal on the bottle cracked viciously, much like your nose, as she unscrewed the cap.

“And I told you I didn’t need to go the hospital. I think I was a liability, though.”

Kate laughed, taking a deep gulp from the bottle. It hit the back of her throat and she hissed in response before thrusting the whiskey your way. You took a smaller sip, let it coat your tongue and burn your stomach.

The mood had stilled, and she took another swallow before setting the bottle between the both of you like a vice or a buffer. You couldn’t decide what.

“Eleanor had very specific instructions in her will. She… shit, she planned her whole funeral out before she died in her morbid meticulousness. She picked white lilies, and a beautiful black casket. She already had a plot of land picked out in her family plot. Music picked out. A fucking guest list.”

You fought the urge to reach out and comfort her. So, you grabbed the bottle instead and gulped down a bigger heaping than before. The amber liquid was dipping down behind the black wrapper.

“The only thing she didn’t do was write her eulogy. No, she left that up to me as one last fuck you because that’s how she operates. She didn’t’ ask Susan to write it, or my dad. She asked me because I’m the one that left home. I’m the one that left her.”

The worst thing you could do was agree with Kate Bishops dead mother. And you didn’t, really. You’d always been happy for Kate. This town was too small for her and the lives that she saved were plentiful. But some selfish part of you understood where Eleanor was coming from.

You were possibly the worst person she could go to with this issue and by the frown on her face, she knew it too. For the longest time, you were there for each other. And if Kate had called out of the blue and asked you to go to New Zealand or New Hampshire, or whatever; you would go.

She’d do the same, you were sure. One call, one letter and she’d be here. But neither of you were brave enough to reach out and heal the wound that festered between you. You pulled your knees up to your chest, rested your chin against them with a quiet breath.

“Maybe you don’t need to write anything. Maybe you can just… say how you feel.”

“Yes, because that has worked out so well for me in the past.”

“Fair point, but she was your mother, not a fling. Even if you don’t have a script planned out, it’s worth just feeling the moment. No matter how shitty that moment is.”

Kate inhaled and held that breath in her chest for a few seconds before pushing it out. Her eyes searched you in a probing way that made your skin prickle. Blush started to claw its way up your throat. You’d blame that on the alcohol, you always were a light weight and it showed in your complexion.

“Is that what you think you were?” her voice was a low and raspy whisper “a fling?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You never say anything you don’t mean. All you’ve ever done is calculated and well thought out. You’ve always had a plan.” She looked down at the frayed edges of her jeans, playing with the strings to avoid looking at you. “You were my everything.”  

Your voice was a quiet murmur. “Katie,”

She reached out, her warm hand wrapped around your wrist in a tender display of affection. Her eyes met yours and it was the longest the two of you had stared at one another without breaking eye contact. Your stomach was a pit of nerves and heat.

“That scared me when we were young. It fucking scared me out of my mind how content I was with you. I was ready to risk everything, to settle down in a small house and wake up every single morning next to you.” She drew in a sharp and shuddering breath “But we were young, and I hadn’t lived life and that scared me even more.”

“I know, Kate, I know. I shouldn’t have proposed, and I certainly shouldn’t have put either of us in that position. You were right to turn me down. You were right to move on and fight for the future that you deserve.”

Kate sniffed, using her free hand to wipe away the few crystalline tears that dripped across her cheeks. You found yourself pulling her close, letting her sob into the crook of your neck as you held her, your arm wrapped around her center to stabilize her.

Things were boiling over and the tension that had been weighing on her shoulders since she’d first shown up in town started to slowly drain. She missed her mother, she missed you, and that wasn’t something you were willing to process on the crest of the school’s gymnasium.

Kate’s fingers were curled into the fabric of your shirt, and eventually, she settled. Her nose was cold against your pulse point and the bottle of whiskey had been long forgotten. As self-centered as it was, you wished you could hold her forever. Feel her touch on yours for something other than a reminisced sadness.

“If you asked again,” Kate mumbled into the collar of your shirt “If you asked me again, I would say yes.”

“I know, Katie. I know.”

[acermp100]

IT'S WAWA WEEK

And I've been working on shorts for over 10 days now! Excited to share~

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25/3 – Friends: ZOO

Based on my many fun but fraught visits.

Seri learns the power of FRANDSHIP Shou tries to pet a crocodile Ritsu experiences churros They are at a zoo with American food don't question it ANTS

General Audience. No trigger warnings. Depictions of disassociation and anxiety/sensory issues. Some minor Seri/Rei. Capybara.

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

Serizawa stood in the middle of the walkway. Throngs of people flowed past- left, right, strollers, backpacks, balloons- all moving with their own purpose. That was the problem of a crowd. Being surrounded by so many yet still left completely alone, even if one’s anxieties preyed on that ever present fear that everyone is watching, everyone is judging. His fingers tensed at his sides before balling into fists. Just focus on one thing. That tree looks nice. It didn’t work. Bits of conversations bled into one another until all he could hear was chaotic noise as he took a slow, strained inhale.

“Oi, Katsuya.”

Everything snapped back into place. What was once churning and bleating returned to laughter and normal voices. A little kid ran past him asking an older sibling for ice cream. Serizawa blinked a few times until his eyes focused on a hand waving in front of his face.

Reigen gestured to the gate past the courtyard. “You’re holding on to all their tickets, buddy.”

Purpose swelled in to replace nervousness. Serizawa looked up to see the four middle schoolers gathered at the large, glassed off map near the entrance. Teru was pointing to one of the exhibits as Mob laughed, with Ritsu and Shou hanging back to avoid looking too excited. It had all started with wanting to take the Kageyama brothers out to the zoo for a small trip while their parents were out of town. Shou found out and invited himself and of course Mob was going to ask Teru to come as well.  

“You alright?” Reigen tilted his head. “Kinda went a bit-“ He widened his eyes. “Starey back there.”

“S-sorry. I’m fine.”

Serizawa steadied his fingers and unzipped the small pack at his waist before starting to rummage for the pre bought tickets. Got to save money so Reigen set them up as a school trip, among other things. He didn’t even know there were discounts for the son of a wife of a veteran.

The fanny pack had been picked out by Teru when the group went shopping together last week. Serizawa made sure to pack only the essentials. Inside the bright, green, reflective, and waterproof fabric were a mini first aid kit, some hard candies, nylon rope, a small utility knife, compact flair gun, translation book, and a magnesium fire starter with two pens and a pad of paper. And of course the tickets.

“Here they are!”

His voice came out a bit too loud but Reigen didn’t seem to notice, or maybe didn’t care. He could never tell. The tickets were held at arm’s length as Reigen took and inspected them.

“You know, I’m glad you decided to come, Serizawa” A flick of his wrist, Reigen gesturing even with tickets in hand. “You’ve really improved these last few months. Taking night classes and handling society and all it throws at you. I mean the train we took here was wall to wall people.” He paused, meeting Serizawa’s eyes. “But I know one can’t just magically be fine with all of that. So let me know if you need a break, alright?”

“Of course, Reigen-san!”

Reigen blinked back, leaning into his raised hand.

“Oh, right. Casual outing, not work.”

“Right. Just like going to class!” Reigen turned. “Let’s catch up with the kids.”

No, it wasn’t just like going to class. There he took the same train, walked down the same road, saw the same people, smelled the same smells. He had built that up all on his own: forcing himself to go until every detail was memorized. Predictable. Safe. Even the shopping trip had been short enough for him to handle at a small store that lay on his normal rout to work. Serizawa could feel his heart beat ever faster.

A small pack of kids ran by screaming. Music played from various speakers. The smell of fried food mixed with a musky, earthly scent. New sounds from every side conflicted with the various signs, decorations, and posters his eyes tried to read all of them at the same time. Even his clothing, though comfortable and casual for the day, left him feeling itchy.

“Serizawa-san.”   

He suddenly found himself at an exhibit in front of a glass wall looking over a recreated wetland. On land a few reptiles were lounging on broad leafed plants with fish under the water line. Mob was at his side glancing up at him without a hint of judgment in his eyes.

“Shishou says he wants to gather everyone up for a snack before we head into the rainforest building.”

“Oh.” Gears turned then started to grind. “Oh! Where- where is everyone?” Serizawa started to pull at his own hair, looking back and forth. “I was supposed to be watching and- Reigne-san- I should have-”

“It’s fine.” Mob turned his head to peer down the little trail to another section. “My brother and the others are feeding the crocodiles.”

Serizawa’s heart skipped a beat as he frantically stared ahead. “WHAT.”

Mob’s voice remained steady, but he punctuated his words with a short laugh. “Don’t worry. I don’t think a crocodile could take them on. Plus there’s zoo keepers monitoring the entire thing.”

Lowering his arms, Serizawa tried to catch his breath. A few of the fish swam by, their forms distorted from both the surface of the water and thick glass window. Four conversations, no five. Parents talking over kids. Loud footsteps on the wooden planks that lined the ground. All that with the constant, wet smell of algae.

“The first time I went to the zoo, Ritsu had just mastered walking.” Mob looked out over the water continuing in his monotone. “My parents had the stroller for him, but he still wanted to do it all himself. I barely got to see any animals because I was so worried about him.”

Serizawa looked into the enclosure as well. It’s fine. Everyone is fine. You’re fine. His fingers were still clenched, tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth.

“After when we were heading back, my mom took me aside and said she was proud of me for watching over my little brother so well. But-” A glance up at Serizawa. “She said there’s no need to do everything all by myself. We are a family, we have friends.”

A long exhale. Everything melted away accept for Mob’s voice. Serizawa could now feel the auras of all the others: Shou, Teru, even Reigen, and senses their emotions. Calm, happy. It’s fine.

“Do you mind getting your brother and your friend?”  Serizawa cracked a smile. “I’ll wrangle up Shou.”

A bit later they now all sat around the classic outdoor table made of rubber covered metal that formed a crude mesh so the employees didn’t have to worry too much about weather or cleaning. Serizawa recalled sitting at one when he was little with his mom as they waited for some fast food. That one had an umbrella though. Don’t need one now: not with the clear weather and good company.

“Hey, I was only gonna touch one.” Shou pointed a ketchup dipped fry at the others. “When else will I have a chance to pet a crocodile?”

Teru looked up from his burger. “Maybe try when the zoo keepers are not right there?”

“Not my fault you were too chicken.” Shou grinned back.

A scoff. Teru leaned back and crossed his arms. “What about Ritsu? He was standing back with the all the rest.”

“I was trying to get a good angle for a photo.” Ritsu didn’t look up from his food as he answered.

Reigen and Mob had gone back in line for more food. They returned triumphant with more fried, unhealthy goodness.

“Alight, got some desert. Mob said he’s never had a churro so here we are.”

Reigen set a cardboard tray in the middle and sat down; eagerly eyeing the double decker burger he had been forced to leave behind.

A smile from Serizawa, lost in thought as he listened to the kids talk about their day so far.

“So Serizawa.” Reigen was speaking from a half full mouth, pointing with his burger in hand. “You enjoying your order?”

“Oh! Yes!” Serizawa stiffened before grinning back. “Though I thought a corndog was going to be something different.”

“Right? I remember getting one as a kid when some American fair came to town.” Another bite, some of the sauce dribbling down Reigen’s chin. “Still tasty. I swear they make this stuff to be addicting.”

The burger was nearly gone now. Still so many sounds and smells. Serizawa took some breaths and focused on the conversation happening in the moment.

“Do they have wolves here?” Teru was gazing out down the path toward other habitats. They were mainly small mammals and birds. “I hope they don’t keep them in little enclosures.”

“No, it’s a big area in the back with trees and little dens they put into the walls.” Mob took a bite of his churro and suddenly forgot what he was saying.

“Yeah, this place is kinda famous for it.” Shou chimed in. “That and the lions.”

“Lions?” Teru’s face lit up.

“Wait.” Setting down his soft drink, Shou raised an eyebrow at Teru. “Have you never been here before?”

“Um.” Teru started to tug at his shirt, looking away. “No? I mean it’s not like my parents took me. And um- I guess-“

“The schools never have field trips here anymore.” Mob met Teru’s eyes and gave a nod of his head. “They claim it’s too expensive. But you’re here now.”

“Yeah.” Teru’s face softened. “It was worth the wait.”

Serizawa had kept back, not wanting to interrupt, but now invasive thoughts were flooding in. School, his failure, the bullies, just wanting to hide in his room forever. He closed his eyes for a moment before letting the toxic memories into the light.

“I’ve never been here either.” The kids all looked over at him. He had to glance over at Reigen to get enough strength to continue “Th-the schools back then took trips here all the time. I was pretty excited to go. Wouldn’t be stuck in some stuffy classroom or hallway for once. But well-“ He was gripping the stick of his corn dog so hard it broke in his hand. “There was an incident with some bullies the week before and- um- and-“

“Ugh they always do that.” Reigen gave Serizawa a pat on the back. “Even my teachers did: punish both the bullies and the victim. As if taking away fun activities and privileges would help.”

“Hey, kids are cruel man. Spesh with anything different.” Shou nodded at Serizawa. “Sorry you weren’t able to find a good bunch until now. The night class people seem pretty chill.”

Serizawa’s muscles relaxed. “Yeah, it’s nice to not always have to worry.”

“Being your true self is hard around the wrong people.” Added Teru. “But bullying has gotten a bit better, what with the student councils and all that. They get more power and police each other.”

“Oh yeah my brother was doing something with that.” Mob stole one of Teru’s onion rings with no resistance. “What do you think, niisan?”

Ritsu had said very little, and even less now. It was not due to the current subject, however.

“Pfff.” Shou nudged Ritsu with an elbow. “You here in the same reality with us, dude?”

He was looking down at his food, hands holding up his head with a distant stare. Serizawa grew worried.

“Um, are you alright?”

A sigh. “This is the most unhealthy, horrible thing I have ever eaten.” Ritsu spoke in a low, serious tone. “I’m probably going to get sick after we get home.” His head sunk lower. “But I can’t stop eating it. Why is it so good?”

“Ah.” Shou held up one of the churros. “The existential crisis of fried dough covered in sugar.” He playfully dangled in front of Ristu. “Truly a conundrum.”

Everyone gave a friendly laugh, even Serizawa. His experience with food had been quite limited until recently, relating easily to the bliss of trying something delicious even if it was bad for you.

The noise was still getting to him even after they ate. So many random and chaotic ones mixing together. Serizawa would calm down for a moment before a small kid would scream right next to him. In between there was the music and smells. He followed the kids along into the building hoping that would be better. Nope. Now all the noise was contained in an enclosed space leaving him feeling claustrophobic. He focused on his friends enjoying the animals.

Mob had lagged behind, what with the last area being dedicated to frogs. Not wanting to get separated, Serizawa hung back as well. A group of adults pushing strollers went by. Each were loudly complaining about the cleanliness of the place, and in their own little bubble, they nearly ran over Mob’s foot. One of them turned and gave a cruel sneer. Mob shrank back, holding his arm and looking at the floor. The same group almost bumped into Serizawa as well.

He wanted to help but one of the babies starting crying, causing the others to join in. His limbs froze, muscles knotting. The room spun for a moment and he looked up to check on Mob. He was having the same reaction, backing away and breathing harder, his shoulders tense.

“Hey, there’s a cool ant display ahead!” Teru had walked up and taken Mob’s hand. “Wanna watch them carry little leaves and stuff? They have all these clear pipes you can see them travel through.”

Serizawa smiled as they walked by, Mob now calm. Maybe he could get the same relief. The babies continued to cry while he stared at his footsteps, ignoring the mini crowds in front of every glassed enclosed snake, lizard, and spider they passed.

“What’s on your mind, Serizawa?”

Another sudden jolt as he was forced out of his head. They had made it out of the building but that just meant even more differences to deal with. Serizawa blinked before turning to see Reigen at his side. He found himself standing in front of a ground enclosure where the animals wandered around in an open air pit behind a fence.

“You seem really focused. Never seen one before?”

He wanted to say something but failed to conjure up anything concrete, instead turning his head toward the enclosure. Inside sat a few large, furry mammals. Their fur was brown with big eyes and snouts

“It’s a capybara.” Reigen brought up a hand. “They are the largest of the rat family and in some areas are actually classified as fish to avoid religious traditions of food consumption.”

Serizawa leaned a bit to the side as Reigen gestured, looking past to see an information sign with the same words his boss was stating at this very moment. He couldn’t help but grin.

“They seem very calm.” Serizawa shifted his gaze to meet Reigen’s eyes. “And rather cute.”

“Ha ha. Yeah.” A blush formed on Reigen’s cheeks. “I guess they are.”

A large crowd wandered past them, some breaking off to yell and point at the capybaras. Why can’t he just be in the moment? Why does he tense up every single time? It’s not like he was doing it on purpose. Serizawa let out a grumbling exhale while wrapping his arms around himself. But one of his hands was stopped.

“Hey, you need anything?” Reigen gave a light squeeze to Serizawa’s hand. “I did say you could ask if you needed.”

Serizawa inhaled, no longer hearing the random noises, immune now to attempting to read every sign, only smelling the cheap body spray Reigen used every day. Tears welled in his eyes but he forced them back.

“I- I can’t do this. It’s too much.” The first words came out shaky but he managed to keep them calmer and low now. “The kids are enjoying this so much, so I can’t just go home when they need me. But- but I can’t- there’s so much here and I can’t seem to focus and-“

During the desperate rambling, little pebbles started to rise and float around Serizawa, as well as Reigen’s ball cap.

“Hey.” Reigen had a hand on Serizawa’s shoulder now, looking straight at him, face serious but kind. “I used to work here you know.”

Breathing fast, Serizawa concentrated on his boss’s words.

“I thought I was going to get to play with animals and stuff. Nope!” Fingers up, gesturing out toward the other half of the zoo. “It was all shit. Picking up shit. All day.”

Serizawa had stopped crying and was lost in a state of confusion and admiration.

“Still, I had to finish my summer out so I just tried to push through.” Reigen continued. “That definitely did not work. But I did learn one thing: there’s this café that barely anyone goes to. Families all want fried food and animal toys and stuff, but this place just has tea.” He stopped flinging his hands around and held one out for Serizawa to take. “Wanna take a break and go there? The kids will be fine on their own for a bit.”

Instead of taking the offered hand, Serizawa wrapped his arms around Reigen and pulled him into a hug.

“Yes! I’d like that.” Serizawa mumbled into his boss’s shoulder until he realized what he was doing and released his hold, stepping back and fumbling his arms in front of him. “I mean, if that’s ok with you, Reigen-san.”

His boss nodded back, still recovering with his hair messily sticking out from his ball cap. “Sure thing, big guy.”

[cowboyjen68]

Heya Jen,

So I feel like if I were a dude, people wouldn't look down on my clothing choices so much. Maybe it's just because people tend to, quite frankly, give less of a shit about what men wear and how they look in general while, and by contrast, focus a lot on a womans appearance.

I'm not quite butch in my own opinion, but I do tend to wear a lot of men's clothes, and even the women's clothes I wear tend to be quite practical. I like having my own sense of style. I like what I wear, but it doesn't seem to matter to other people, I guess it just seems like I throw on any old clothes to them.

I definitely tend to get this attitude more from women and, more specifically, my aunt. She's told me that I look like I've walked right off of a farm before, and while if anything I took it as a compliment, she certainly didn't mean it that way. In the past, her comments were more harsh, so it's an improvement. At least now it's not outright homophobic, i.e """asking""" me if I want to look like a lesbian or a boy in a rather condescending tone. It's more so a "THAT'S what you're wearing?" Thing. I even get the impression my queer friends just think I don't care about my clothes at all, and while I'm no fashionista, I do like putting together what I consider nice outfits.

Also, admittedly, like most people I do some days, just throw on clean clothes, I just don't see why, regardless of how I dress, it seems more worthy of comment and criticism. I don't see men's outfits commented on or criticized half as much, if at all, and we basically wear the same things.

This is just a very long-winded way of asking if you've gotten this sort of attitude too and how you deal with it? It's not like when I was younger and pushed me to try and wear more feminine clothes, though it still irritates me though I wish it didn't.

Thanks in advance for reading this whole long thing and being an open and out older lesbian who is willing to take time out of her busy day to answer so many questions from young lesbians and queer people alike.

I was never very well tapped into the fashion of the day. In my younger years I would put on what I wanted with no regards to what others might find proper. My mom gave up after on getting me to wear matching dresses and shoes or shirt and shorts outfits. Dad was fine when I came out of my Raggedy Ann themed bedroom in red cowboy boots, jean shorts and an orange shirt (with the bottom cut off) that said "10-4 Good Buddy".

In high school the one think my mom would not let me have was a three quarter length sleeved white shirt with a rainbow. She said I would get it too dirty and my shoulders were too wide for the fit. (she was not wrong in either case). So I tended to go with sweatshirts, t shirts and jeans. I was HORRIBLE at trendy clothing because I mixed and match too many things that just did not go together. I wanted overalls but knew that they were too "manly" for me, a girl. I went to the mall and spent my hard earned money on the closest girl thing, a peach colored pair of overalls for girls that were also kind of pedal pushers. It was NOT a good look.

Whenever I tried to be trendy I would bed it to be more what I wanted but not committing to "boys" clothes and it always went sideways in the worst way.

College saw me stick with t shirt and jeans but it was the 80's and everyone wore just that. Finally, a time in fashion where fashion was the same for everyone. Utilitarian and simple, at least in small midwestern college towns.

My mom would say to my young self. "are you sure that is what you want to wear?" or "Do you want help picking out clothes?" In retrospect she was trying to save me from drawing attention or getting picked on but just eventually figured I would either learn or live with it.

I know exactly what you mean about people assuming that me wearing what I was comfortable in as an adult was me just tossing any old thing on. My first girlfriend helped me by expanding my confidence and wardrobe. Custom made suspenders, men's dress pants and white button down for men instead of women's clothing that sort of mimicked men's style. After we broke up (7 years later) I still struggled a bit but slowly learned that the important thing was I felt good in what I wore and not what others had to say about it.

Men get a pass because I think is it often assumed they just don't have the need or capacity to dress themselves beyond simple and what is on the floor. This is, of course, also an unfair stereotype. Many men lack the confidence to stop out of the easy and simple to try and dress better for public consumption so they get in a routine. AND women are assumed to always want to look good for others so when we don't fit the expectation of our culture we "just don't care".

NOW I rarely dress up because of my jobs. I wear "work clothes" most days because I know within an hour of getting dressed I will be dirty. But I am most confident and comfortable in my work clothes. When I do dress up to go out I finally am like my young self (wear what I want) with a little more awareness of what others see. I shop at estate sales and find vintage western style shirts and unique belt buckles to wear. I feel good, have my own style and i think others see my confidence because I am less concerned about what others think and just happy to be wearing what I love.

People start to see confidence over aesthetics as you become more comfortable in clothes you love.

Hope this help. You are not alone and i think many women (even some men) will understand this feeling you have.

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 15, Part 2 (Lost and Found, Aka The One Where Rory Loses Dean's Shitty Bracelet)

Part 1 and all previous commentary here. I should start renaming these things "Gilmore Girls 10 Minutes At A Time" because right now that's about all I can get through per day before Lorelai has me grinding my teeth into a fine powder. Luke and Jess are checking out some houses because Luke is totally going to move out to a new house in the middle of season 2. Luke and Jess have looked at about a half dozen apartments and they squabble over minor imperfections of each one, whether it be pink paint on the walls or an excess amount of windows. To both Jess and Luke: I would implore you both to be a little less stubborn and just take anything with two bedrooms. Your lives will drastically improve with any two bedroom apartment. Better yet, keep turning down every apartment in Stars Hollow until you've reached the next town. Continue this process until you're both living in another state completely. Jess eventually whatevers- I dont cares- you pick the place out of the situation because he's due at Lorelai's in 20 minutes to get treated like used gum on the bottom of her shoe and get paid in stale jelly beans. And we get a SadBaby™ quote.

Let's play another game of "What the hell is that: early 2000's gadget edition"

What the hell is that? VHS rewinder thingymabob.

Oh. It's just a clock. A clock that plays cds and makes barnyard noises. Would you look at that. Another one of my favorite mini games to play while watching gilmore girls is "Determining how an object is going to be integral to the plot of the episode". This is Gilmore GIrls so we are seeing this clock for a reason. This clock won't just show up and disappear with no further explanation. It always means something. Please say Lorelai hides her squealing State of the Art CD player pig clock when Jess arrives because she thinks he is going to steal it. PLEASE. I promise it's been long enough since I've seen the show that I don't know if that actually happens but I put nothing past her. Nothing. Let's take a break to Admire The Baby:

Although he may flake out on dates with Rory and skip school, our little Employee of the Month is always on time for work.

Narrator: He would not be getting his own room.

#AdmireTheBaby #Quick #BeforeLorelaiShowsUp

Narrator: Lorelai Gilmore did not find Jess Mariano's arrival to be all that terrific.

Nevermind moving down the street in Stars Hollow, he's hoping for that Male Gilmore Characters California Wormhole to suck him up and transport him to the opposite end of the country to get away from this hell. He still has to suffer for another season and a half before that'll happen. Jess is this emoji: 😐

Narrator: She was not trying. Rory gives Jess the ol Razzle Dazzle: "Why don't you talk more?" or more precisely "Why don't you talk around my mother"?

Why is Jess supposed to trust and adore and respect this random woman he doesn't know, who he sees pawing at his uncle he also doesn't know, a random strange woman who is very transparent in her feelings about him, who is transparently suspicious of him for no reason, someone so full of shit that he can see right through her when no one else can or will admit to it. WHAT I'M GETTING AT IT IS: Is he supposed to be happy to be in her presence or something? Why should he have anything to say? He's only doing this because of a rock solid work ethic, and I’d say because he hopes to earn some money. But I’d hate to dash poor Baby’s hopes about making any money and inform him that his uncle and his uncle’s weird friend agreed he could be paid subpar wages.

I think everyone in Stars Hollow is two faced anyway. They act like they like her but you know Patty and Babette talk shit nonstop about Lorelai when she's not around. Kinda like me.

Honey, you can just keep your pretty little mouth quiet around her and let me do all the shit talking.

Why? Even Rory is still more or less a stranger to him at this point, an acquaintance or loose friend at best (we know this because minutes earlier, Lorelai had Lorelai Thoughts about Rory saying Jess was a casual friend). Why does he have to please her mom? Rory says she went out on a limb to try to convince her mother that Jess was a good person. This is true. But why is she even wasting her breath trying to convince Lorelai when her mother clearly refuses to listen. It’s a hopeless endeavor. Jess does not even owe Lorelai the time of day so stop asking him to be nice to her.

#AdmireTheBaby Rory: It wouldn't hurt you to be nice to my mom. Jess: Why? Rory: Because she's my mom and a friend of Luke's. Jess: So? Just because she's your Mom or Luke's friend doesn't mean I automatically have to get along with her. Thank you for doing the work for me, babes. Mwah.

Fixed it with some flawless editing. Rory: If you care about me at all you'll be mildly polite to my mother.

GOT HER! :) #SharpAsATack

Mmm. Do go on.

I just skipped ahead to see what was happening at the 20 minute mark and it's Dean and I can't complain because yesterday I was literally begging for him to show up to divert the plot away from Lorelai even for a minute. Thank you Dean. Thank you. I am eagerly anticipating your whining and sulking at the book fair.

#AdmireTheBaby

We have been blessed with another Milo Ventimiglia Okuh. An okuh is like a soothing balm that makes everything better.

#AdmireTheBaby.

YAYYYY ITS DEAN! HOORAY FOR DEAN! DEAN DEAN DEAN DEAN.

Taylor's back on his bullshit I see. What are we raising money for, err should I say what cause is Taylor stealing money from? Please tell me it's the Bridge so I can divert my Lorelai Rage into Bridge Rage and Dean Rage. I'm a bit delirious right now. Amy Sherman Palladino: This character Dean likes to read books. No, sports. No, books again. No, he rides a motorcycle. Wait, books again. Softball? Dean hates to read. HOCKEY. Here is Dean early in season 1 contrasted with Dean halfway into season 2 (still wearing that smelly leather coat too):

I am particularly delighted whenever the 3 Dean Forrester fans in existence try to use Dean telling Rory "I watched you browse for books for two hours" as an example of his devotion to Rory. As you can see by this display of unbridled enthusiasm, he clearly wants to be here with her. When Rory disputes that it’s been that long and feels guilty for boring him, he shows her his watch to prove to her its been two hours. Dean Forrester is a stale chicken nugget that's been laying on the floor for 4 days. You know what would make everyone happy? Jess and Dean switching places. Dean could go over to Lorelai's and spend some time "cleaning her gutters" and Jess and Rory could enjoy the book fair. God, in what universe is it fucking fair that DEAN is the one who gets to accompany Rory to a book sale and he just acts like a miserable turd. While Jess is missing the book fair to work for Lorelai? UGH. I hear Rory's voice screaming "WHAT'S UP QUIPPY! WHY SO SILENT!" at Paris but my inner monologue is screaming "WHAT'S UP AMY! WHY COULDN'T JESS GO TO THE BOOK FAIR? HUH? WHY SO SILENT?! AMY!" Literally the only thing to ever happen in Stars Hollow that he would enjoy and voluntarily attend and instead he's slopping some bitch's gutters. I maxed out my 30 screen shots and I can't delete any of Baby so this three ring shit circus will spill into a part 3. See ya soon.

[littlewalken]

jul 14

Sometimes you just want to share a video of a kitten tooting. That was possibly the first thing that made me laugh all month which is a big thing to me with my emotions being out of whack.

If there's time and light to day I need to finish doing the Liberace's hair and put some gloss on the centaur's hooves. Can't say what other doll things I'll get in to.

The horse stuff consignment store actually called us to ask for more plushies so we're going to take them some along with other toys. It was suggested to bring the centaur to show her off, she will be coming back home, I've waited long enough to get one. But it's a horse town and if it's not too hot out she might get a few pictures taken.

In spite of wanting to have less dolls I ordered the Odile face mermaid, they gave me what I wanted and while I've politely passed over other things that in the past I would have snatched up I'm going to have take this one. Also threw in a blind box mermaid who can sit so that's over with.

I think my side quests of media gathering and storage has helped with what in the past was a bit of a shopping habit that border lined on addiction.

It was a combination of growing up in poverty and finally having the means to get the things, even basic ones, I couldn't even think of getting before.

I've been able to get a handle on it, and years of car repairs and picking up the slack when someone else is enabling a mooch takes a lot of your money, but things like mini food surprise balls are still a temptation.

You don't need a school of mermaid Barbies, just that one in the skin tone and color scheme you've always wanted.

[punkybunk]

My mother is coming to town,

And I can't handle it

This last week I have been tired, anxious, and upset. I was planning how the visit and interactions would go, what she would likely say to me. She asked to see my new apartment, I agreed to it, I wanted to show her my home, how well I was doing, the lack of dishes in the sink and the lack of clothes on the floor. I wanted to show her that I finally listened to her screams from when I was a kid to clean my room, be organized, stop being lazy.

Last Thursday I broke down over realizing that I don't know a lot. I research so many things and it's a daily practice of listing off the things I don't know and when I should learn them by. I don't know how to emotionally regulate, I don't know how to stop biting my nails, I don't know who I am or who I want to be, I don't know if I'll ever be able to have a relationship that doesn't follow her footsteps. I don't know if she loves me as her daughter or if she loves me at all. I don't know my father, his history, his feelings, and I don't know if he loves me as his daughter or at all.

I break down and put myself back together again and again. "Who's there to pick up my pieces?" Is the scariest question for me because there isn't anyone else it's only me. I get out of bed, I eat something, I drink water, I put on a YouTube video of Yoga when you're overwhelmed. If I went to someone else, to my parents, I'd get dismissed. I'd get told everyone is depressed or maybe I'd get a silence that stretches on until I find a topic they do care about to switch to. If I say what's causing my pain, I get screamed at by Her "I guess I'm just a bad mom" and hear Her cry just to comfort Her instead. If I speak to them I have to speak about them. On occasion maybe I'll slip up and talk about me, those times result in yells or panicked topic switching. I'd get told it's my fault I feel this way, despite desperately wishing to not feel this, to ignore it like they do. I'd get told to let it go that it's in the past it doesn't matter anymore.

It's hard to let go of somethings. I can't grieve my grandmother without hearing my mother tell me that I shouldn't waste time or money on seeing family members after I spent a week with my grandma after her cancer diagnosis. I can't grieve without seeing the text she sent 2 hours after I was notified of my grandmother's passing. " Don't go to the funeral you saw her enough while she was alive, you need to focus on school you can't skip a college class". (I went anyway and I didn't fail my classes.)

I can't relax at work without worrying that my boss might see and find that I'm lazy. I can't sit at my desk and breathe without thinking I need to find something, anything to do.

I can't talk to my friends or people I see often about my own life, without seeing my mother prioritize a TV show. Without hearing "shut up my show is on" whenever I wanted to tell her about my day at school. I can't tell my friends about my interests unless I know they might like it too.

I'm haunted by Her and yet desperately wish I had my mother with me. I still ache to see her and tell her about my day, the things I saw, the people I met, thoughts that I didn't like, thoughts that changed something for me. I want her comfort so much I'm willing to risk hearing all the bad for just 1 sentence of encouragement or love. I want to bond with her and rest my head on her shoulder without worrying about a comment that my hair is too short and I need to grow it out. I want to get dressed up and feel good without hearing her voice say that my stomach shows, my shirt doesn't fit right, that I've gained weight.

It's Her voice that I hear when I talk to babies, when I talk to my cat in a sweet tone, I mimic her. It's Her voice I hear when I get frustrated at other cars when I drive around town, it's Her voice that rings in the air when I yell. I frighten myself every time I get angry and hear Her voice and not mine.

I understand Her, I've listened to her cries, her screams, her confessions for 15 years. I know about her parents and how they treated her, I know how my father treated her and how his infidelity hurt her. I know how lonely she is, how she doesn't have friends and latches on to partners and their lives to fill her own. I hope that if I mimic her enough that maybe I won't remember how she treated me, how she would say the nastiest things to me, how she made me feel worthless. If I mimic her enough maybe I'll believe it when she tells me she loves and misses me, maybe I'll believe that she never wanted to hurt me.

I have a nephew, he'll be 2 next month and the thought of him feeling like I do makes me cry even if I'm at work and scared someone might see. I think of the things my mother said to me as a child and think, "could I say that to him when he's that age?". The answer is no, I want to know who his friends are in elementary school, I want to know what subjects he struggles with, the teachers he loves and hates, I want to hear about the bug he found on the sidewalk and how blue the sky was today and yesterday. I could never tell him the things I was told. I don't want children of my own in fear I'll treat them like my mother treated me.

Yesterday I broke down again. I cried in my car on the street talking to my friends about how I feel. About how I've always thought I knew what crying was like or what it meant, how most of my memories of crying wasn't just a cry but panic attacks. I avoided crying or showing that I was upset because crying meant hyperventilating, my chest is tight, my throat closes up and I can't speak despite all of my energy spent trying to talk anyway. I can't cry or show emotions unless I set my mind to it, I wouldn't cry until I went home, got into the shower, curled into a tight and small ball of myself. I'll blast sad music so I can't hear myself but I can still hear comments and judgements of how loud I am, how my face is scrunched up, how my sniffling and attempts to breathe are annoying.

Today my mother is coming to pick me up, we got oncert tickets to her favorite band. Months ago I heard and made sure to tell her about it, I was excited to go. Now I sit on my bed slightly terrified about seeing her. I'm planning my lies and my answers to dodge questions of what's wrong. I thought about saving my legs, using hairspray, about what to wear to cover tattoos and to cover my weak points. I won't do any of that, I want to prove to myself that I don't need to do it that I don't need sacrifice myself to appease her. I planned out my lie to tell her she can't see my apartment, she doesn't get to see the home I made for myself.

My mother is coming to town,

And maybe I'll survive.

[scarletttries]

The Sincerest Form of Flattery (Eddie Munson)

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x Cheerleader!Reader (who is loosely related to Steve Harrington)

Rating: Not Explicit

Word Count: 1.7k

Author's Note: While I am writing the second part of my Eddie Munson Headcanons (part 1 here), I had this idea for how an interaction with Eddie would go, so wanted to share it as a short fic in the meantime :) I've tried to be mindful of keeping things gender neutral, please enjoy and let me know if you have any other Eddie Munson thoughts :) 💕

The Sincerest Form of Flattery

"I can't be spotted just loitering in the woods around a high-school I've already graduated from, everyone would think I'm a complete loser! And you know this party has to be one of my best if Robin's finally going to make a move on her band-mate! So just pick up enough for a crowd, and I swear it will almost make up for all the places I have to drive you..." Steve ranted frantically, hinting that maybe he wasn't as happy with his role as your designated chauffeur as you were. You sighed, wanting to seem reluctant, when in fact having a good excuse to talk to tall, dark and handsome Eddie Munson had just made your afternoon a whole lot more interesting.

"Fine, I'll get your stuff, just don't forget you have to pick me up after practice! Before you start partying!" You conceded, snatching the money from his hand and opening the car door,

"Thank you! You're the best! And feel free to invite as much of the cheer team as you want," He added, his suave tone making you cringe as you slammed the door behind you,

"Gross, Steve." You knew he was probably one of the nicer boys in town for you to set up with your friends, but that didn't make hearing that flirty tone from a family member any less uncomfortable.

You knew from the boys on the football team where Eddie Munson hung out when he sold his plant-based party favours, so that lunch you found yourself stomping through the woods behind the school, wishing your cheer uniform offered a little more protection from the leaves and branches covering the earth. You hadn't had a lot of reasons to talk to Eddie in the past, even though you were now both set to be in the same graduating class, but there was something about him that you always thought of fondly. Maybe it was because every time you'd picked Dustin up after Hellfire when Steve busy, he would come out absolutely buzzing about how incredible Eddie was at building the world around them in Dungeons and Dragons. Maybe it was his unabashed passion as he stomped through the cafeteria, accepting that people were going to stare anyway so he might as well give them something to stare at. Maybe it was just the fact that you liked the collection of tattoos he had picked up over his senior years. Whatever it was, you had the familiar feeling of a flurry of butterflies in your stomach as you approached the all-but-abandoned picnic table.

Eddie knew all his usual customers; from resentful jocks to stressed-out smart kids, but you'd never approached his table before. And Eddie definitely would've remembered if the one person in his classes who actually smiled when he sat next to them had come out of their way to see him before. He stared at you a lot longer than he usually would before striking up conversation, convinced wishful thinking had his eyes deceiving him,

"(Y/n) (Y/l/n), gracing my table! To what do I owe the honour?" He jumped up from his seat miming a little curtsy as you approached, earning a sincere smile from you that had colour flushing across his cheeks.

"Eddie Munson, I would love to tell you a fun and interesting tale that led to me standing in front of you in the woods, but I'm afraid I'm just here to browse your wares, same as everyone else." You settled onto the bench across from him, watching his eyes follow you closely, considering his next words carefully.

"Now that surprises me about as much as any story you could tell me (y/n). I never though someone like you would be buying shit from someone like me." He replied with a cocky smile, hiding his genuine interest in what you thought about someone like him. You grinned back, relaxed in his company, happy at the chance to speak to him alone, not under the usual prying eyes of the rest of the school.

"And what exactly is someone like me like?" You countered playfully, watching his brow furrow as he thought through his answer, clearly deliberating on how honest to be with you. After a moments pause he jumped up from his seat, standing with his hands on his hips, like the starting position of all your cheer routines. He cleared this throat dramatically, feeling emboldened by the warm giggle he earned from you,

"I'm (y/n) (y/l/n) and I don't have time for drugs between all my friends and cheerleading, and my perfect boyfriend Steve Harrington." His arms flailed imaginary pompoms as he spoke rhythmically, flicking his hair and his hips in time to his words. "Also I'm way too smart for that, in fact easily one of the smartest people in school, but no one notices because I look like this." He flicked his hair dramatically, before standing on one leg for his finale, "The only thing brighter than me and my future, is my smile." His hands came to frame his face, eyelashes fluttering, and you burst into laughter at his performance. Other than being yet another guy at school incorrectly assuming you and Steve were together much to your disgust, his words came from a real place of appreciation, and the way he moved his hips as an imaginary cheerleader wasn't unpleasant to watch either. Feeling flattered, you applauded Eddie as he bowed, before delivering your critiques,

"Not bad Eddie, a little right, a little wrong, but overall I'd give you a B- for your impression skills." He pouted at your review, before spreading his arms out wide in challenge,

"If you think that's only worth a B- minus, I'd like to see you do better?" He posed, trying to fight the nervous urge to ask what he got wrong, wanting to know so much more about you. He watched as you stood up quietly from your seat, terrified he had crossed a line, about to lose the first real opportunity he'd had to be the focus of your attention, after spending the last school year surviving off glances across classrooms.

In one athletic jump you mounted the table, miming a hair flip and stomping your feet,

"I'm Eddie Munson, and my favourite hobby is a game of skill, strategy and teamwork - but if your favourite game of skill, strategy and teamwork is popular or sport, I hate it!" You growled dramatically, miming devil horns and squatting down to eye-level with a perplexed but captivated Eddie. "I'm actually way too smart from this school, and way too cool for Hawkins, and way too pretty for any of the girls and boys here." You continued, making a dramatic dismount from the table as you paused for effect. "But I pretend I don't know any of those things, because then it's even harder not to like me and my beautiful brown eyes." You mimed twirling a piece of hair in front of your face shyly, tilting your chin down to blink up at Eddie with your best doe eyes. Pleased with your performance you sat on the bench next to him, one leg either side of the plank to match his shell-shocked stature. You watched his eyes scan your face, his mouth slightly agape as he ran through your words again. Eddie spent so much time expecting to hear the worst from people, that hearing someone he actually liked say he was smart and cool and attractive was a situation he was not prepared for in the slightest. But more than just how flattered he was, he felt seen. Like you didn't just look at him once and think he was nothing more than a freak, someone to avoid. You thought about him, and the positive things about him, and why he acts the way he does, and you got it. You, someone kind and beautiful and smart, got him.

After a long silence passed you pulled out the money Steve had given you that morning and passed it to Eddie, hoping to snap him out of his trace. He almost flinched remembering why you had come to see him, pulling out the weed and throwing in way more than he would for any other customer. Scrambling to form any kind of sentence he finally blurted out,

"You must be having quite the campaign tonight." Embarrassed at this inability to find any non-D&D way to describe an event. You laughed as you tucked his stuff safely in your backpack,

"Harrington's having a party tonight, and I am helping, and going, because we're family. Not dating. I cannot stress that enough. And frankly I'm offended that more people don't realise this exceptional hair is genetic." If Eddie was struggling to find words before, he couldn't form a sentence looking at a dictionary now. You called him pretty, and you weren't dating Harrington. Ready to announce that this was the single best day of his life, he watched as you pulled a scrap of paper out of your bag and scribbled something on it before handing it to him,

"It's at this address, you should come Eddie. Maybe then I'll get accused of dating someone I'm not related to." You joked with a wink, before turning to make your way back through the trees, no longer cursing your cheer uniform given the view it was leaving him with, distracting from your the heat rising off your face. Scrambling to gain any sense of control Eddie called out behind you, "Do you really think I'm cool and pretty?" Trying to hide the wobble in his voice at the thought this could all be a cruel joke at his expense,

"Awesome and gorgeous Eddie." You shouted back, not turning around as you spoke, but raising your arm straight in the air, shooting him the rock and roll sign with your hand and earning a warm laugh as he tried to figure out what the hell he would wear to a party at Harrington's tonight.

[twilitty]

By The Moon

By: @twilitty

Chapter Two: First Day

word count: 2.4k

image from this post by @stregoni-benefici

I wake up a little before seven in the morning, my first full day in Forks. A million more to come. It's raining, the heavy drops tapping against the roof above me and leaving trails down my windowpane. I can't tell how long it's been raining, but I have a feeling it's just recently started. I rarely wake up this early, I'm not exactly a morning person, so it was probably the rain that woke me up.

In Phoenix, I was always the first one awake in the house, bright and early at eight o'clock. Phil was always soon to follow, up and ready to run off to the gym or practice. Then, much later on, Renee would roll out of bed just in time for the class of the month. Sometimes yoga, sometimes jiu-jitsu, once even a scrapbooking club for senior citizens at the community center. That was her longest streak yet, a full two months.

My room is shrouded in the dim light coming in from through the window. The sun hasn't risen yet, a fact I somehow remember from my summers here as a kid. The sun seems to rise so late here in the summer. Not that it's summer now, the cold air has already begun to seep into the sleepy town and school started nearly a month ago. But still, the sun persists in its late wake schedule. I fumble for my phone, responding to a few texts from mom and a single picture of their rental in Florida from Phil. It's right on the beach, just seconds from the surf. She must love that.

It's a little depressing to think about Renee sitting on the beach, soaking her feet in the cool water, especially when my situation looks so bleak and gloomy in comparison. I get dressed, pulling on jeans and a hoodie to mask my body from the cold that always infiltrates the poorly insulated house, and then move to the bathroom to get ready for the day. I find that Charlie is still asleep, the main floor of the house empty and his cruiser parked out front.

He'd offered to drive me to and from school, a small conversation we had over the phone a few weeks before my arrival. Forks is too small to have a bus system and I don't have the money for a car. I kindly accepted, but secretly wished mom would at least try to help me with finding a second-hand vehicle. Even one from the 90s that ran on nothing but wishful thinking and rock music. I could live with that; I could learn to live with that. But mom's only consolation was that Charlie was well-liked and that was sure to make me a friend of the staff.

Perfect. All the students will think I'm a narc, driving in with a cop, but at least the teachers will like me. First introductions matter, and with mine, it'll be a lonely high school experience.

I pour myself a bowl of cereal and start the ancient coffee machine. It squeals in protest as I dump in the coffee grounds and plug it in. That will be the first renovation this house needs- a new coffee machine. While that is brewing, I grab my computer from upstairs and sit at the kitchen table. I start with checking my email, just a few promotions and nothing too exciting, a single email from one of my teachers in Phoenix. I clicked it hopefully, maybe I forgot something important and need to go back immediately to get it. Maybe I'll have to stay there overnight so as to not fly in the dark.

It's a reminder that my essay is due in a week, and a reminder to pick a group for peer editing. She then asks me where I've been for the past three days and that I've missed a substantial portion of the Frankenstein unit. I email her back quickly, a scowl deep-set into my face at the absolute idiocrasy of this situation. She doesn't even know that I've left the state. She has no idea that I'm never coming back. A lump forms in my throat at the thought. I tell her that I've moved and will not be coming back, that I will not be turning in an essay and have enrolled in another school.

Send.

I shouldn't be so shocked that she had no idea I was leaving, Renee probably forgot to inform the school that I was enrolling elsewhere. I'll have to call tomorrow and get that sorted out. The last thing I need is for mom to receive angry calls from the principal about me ditching. She has enough on her plate with the move.

Charlie and I spend the morning together, he wakes up and eats some leftover spaghetti for breakfast, which I make a face at, and then we're off to pick up groceries. "Do you want a tour of the town, Bells?" He offers with a kind look in my direction, I shake my head but thank him anyways.

"Everything is just off the highway, right?" I ask with a smile. As a kid, he'd always tell me that everything you could possibly want is either just off the highway or at the end of one. That highways are what keep small towns connected to the rest of the world.

He smiles at this, clearly glad that I've retained some memory of my visits here. "Everything you need, just off the highway." We hit the only grocery store in town, which is just off by the main downtown strip. The strip is more a street, and even then, it's barely a full street and many of the store windows are closed.

We hit the store, grabbing all of the essentials and a few things I've requested (microwave popcorn and an herbal tea set). Then we're off back home and settling everything into the kitchen.

There's a knock on the front door, and I wait for Charlie to make a move, but he stays at the table. "How about you answer it, Bells?" He asks without looking up. I move to the door and open it to a large teenage boy. Russet skin and wide shoulders greet me with a hug that can only compare to an anaconda's death grip, "Bella!" The deep voice booms against my ear and recognition flares off in my brain. My arms quickly wrap around Jacob's midsection, and I laugh against his chest.

He finally lets me go and I take a step back to appraise him. He's tall for his age, just a few months younger than me, and his hair seems longer than the last time I saw him. It's loose and falling down his shoulders in silky black strips, I was always envious of his hair. Jake looks so similar to himself as a kid, he was my best friend here in Forks. He still has the same long nose and deep-set eyes, only now his chin seems more defined and surely his teeth weren't that white. It looks like someone's come in and accentuated all his best features. He's watching me watch him. Eyes gliding across my face easily, as if there hasn't been a multi-year gap between us talking.

"Bella, you look…" he trails off and I roll my eyes, turning and motioning for him to follow me in.

"The same? I know."

Jake laughs at this but shakes his head, "I was gonna say pale, but that works, too." Now it's my turn to laugh, but more out of mock pain than humour. "Did Charlie tell you?" He shoots out quickly, just as I hear footsteps approaching from behind. I look to see Charlie with a false scolding look on his face, wagging a finger at Jake.

"No, I haven't had a chance yet, but thanks for almost spoiling the surprise." My stomach drops into a pit underneath me, and my ears are already aflame. Blood rushes up to my face and I clench my teeth at all the horrors that the word surprise could hold.

"Char- dad, you know I don't like surprises." I try to keep my tone light, but my thoughts are anything but and my filtering skills need some tuning. I've never liked surprises, with a lack of coordination as extreme as mine, disliking the unknown is more of a survival skill than a prudish quality.

"Bella, you'll love it," Charlie persists, but my feelings don't relent. Still, one look at Jacob's face tells me that I should at least pretend to be excited. He looks like a little kid all over again, with wide eyes and a sheepish smile. This has something to do with him, and I don't want to spoil it for him.

"Yeah, okay, but if you've given me a fishing rod-" they both break out into quick protests at my faulty guess. There have been too many poor experiences with me and fishing hooks.

"Hurry up in there!" I hear a man yell from outside, Jacob looks over his shoulder and waves the voice away. It must be Billy. I haven't seen him in years, but the last time I saw him he was cooking hotdogs for Jacob, his sisters, and me over a fire. All happy smiles and fine lines creasing his cheeks. Charlie prods me forward and I step out onto the porch.

Immediately my eyes are drawn to the giant red truck sitting in the driveway. It's ancient, with huge fenders and a small cab, the steering wheel can be seen over the dash. I love it. There are a few rust spots, but those can be buffed out easily. "Oh my god," I breathe without realizing it. Jacob jogs down to open the driver's door for me.

"Your chariot, madame." My hands fly to my mouth as I realize what's happening here. He just smiles at me, gesturing for me to come down and get in. "I fixed it up," he explains with pride, "this past summer. I thought you'd like it." I take the stairs slowly, hands fixed to my mouth as I breathe in the surprise shallowly.

"You made me a truck?" I ask incredulously. His smile falters for a second, but his optimism cannot be wavered.

"I wouldn't say I made it, but I fixed it up, sure." He laughs lightly at this and before he can say another word, I throw my arms around his neck. I say thank you into his shirt and he pats my back a few times before turning me away from him. "Come on, at least make sure it runs before you accept it!"

I smile wide at his invitation to enter the cab of the truck, quickly stepping up into the driver's seat and running my fingers over the steering wheel. I know it's poor manners to just accept a gift, especially as big a gift as an entire truck, without at least fake declining it first. But my brain isn't totally switched on properly so instead I thank Jake a million more times as he climbs up into the passenger seat next to me. He shows me all the truck's quirks, the entire time I'm grinning like a fool. He doesn't mind showing me things a second time when I look a little confused, but he keeps assuring me that he knows how thankful I am and that I don't need to say it again.

Once we get out of my new truck, Billy and Charlie are out in the street laughing like old friends. It looks like Billy and Jake came into town in the minivan parked on the opposite side of the road, a faded dark green with tinted windows. Billy rolls up the driveway towards us once he notices us step out, his wheelchair speeding past Charlie faster than I would have thought possible. "Hey, Billy," I say a little out of breath as he reaches us, the excitement has taken all the energy out of me. He gives me a wide smile and takes my hand in both of his, patting affectionately.

"Bella, you look so old now," he says softly, his lips turning up at the edges and giving a bit of a wicked grin. "But not nearly as old as Charlie over here-" He drops my hand and turns his head around to stick his tongue out at the victim of his joke.

We all talk for a couple of minutes, me thanking Jake profusely and him waving me away each time. Eventually, Billy complains that he's got to get going, he's got fish to catch and send over to Harry Clearwater. "Make sure you send some of that my way," Charlie throws in as we cross the street to the minivan. "I don't mind sending a tip your way or Harry's, but I love that man's fish fry."

Much like his son, Billy waves Charlie's good-natured offers of payment away. "I will send some over for free. We are friends, this is what friends do." Jake looks at me with a sarcastic smile and a roll of his eyes. I guess this type of thing happens often here, Charlie and Billy bantering this way. I wouldn't know. "Although," Billy sends a serious look my way. "It will likely be Jacob sending the fish over, the boy said he's looking to come into town more now that-" Jacob quickly grabs the back handles of his dad's wheelchair and whirs him around to face the van. "Jake!" He protests, throwing his hands up and looking over at us in astonishment.

"Gotta get the old man home before he says anything incriminating," Jacob explains sullenly, avoiding my eyes at all costs. I try not to think about what this could mean and instead just roll my eyes the same way he rolled them at me earlier.

"I hope you're staying out of trouble," My dad pipes in with faux concern, even though it's obvious the incrimination Jacob was worried about was nothing of the legal matter. I didn't want to think about what that could mean either.

"If he had it his way-" Billy starts again, already a devilish grin starting. "Okay! Time to go!" Jake interrupts, tossing open the passenger side door and getting ready to maneuver his father into it.

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taglist: @the-wolf-moon-diaries @edwardsshinyvolvo @unorganisedbookshelf @dot-the-js-and-cross-the-fs @papytonsucks @banditnoo @xy05m @bluetreecloud20 @sethclearwatermybeloved

[ageoffeet]

My Heart, Your Hands - A Jake Kiszka Fic

A/N: So I'm going to be adding parts to this and I'm honestly excited to see where it'll go! I've had this idea for a while and I'm finally writing in down. This first part doesn't contain a whole lot of gvf, it's more of an introduction of what's to come.

synopsis: slow burner fic with Jake Kiszka x fem!reader. Greta Van Fleet invites your band to open for them on tour.

word count: 1.2k (short and sweet to start off)

content warning: mentions of alcohol, cussing, brief mentions of sex, sibling bickering.

taglist: @way-to-go-lad @flowervanfleet (if you want me to add or unadd you from my taglist just let me know!)

Your fingers plucked the strings of your bright yellow bass and your foot tapped along to the notes that came pouring out of the amp.

"Hey, can you help with my drum set?" Jack sets down his snare and walks away, not giving you a chance to answer. Not your fault he has to put his set together every gig, especially when he acted like an ass in the van on the way here. You reluctantly swing your bass strap over your head and set your pride and joy on the stand.

"Y/N!"

"Oh my god, I'm coming!" You set off into a half jog towards the back exit where you parked the van. Miles gives you an equally frustrated look and continues helping Jack lug the pieces of his set out of the back of the van.

You just landed in Nashville, the last stop on your little America tour. This little band you started with your brother (Jack) and mutual friend (Miles) really started taking off after Miles graduated from high school so you all planned a "tour" which was more of a road trip with gigs at bars along the way. It had gone surprisingly well so far with more and more followers finding your socials and Spotify every week.

"Hey, are you guys MHYH?" You look toward the voice at the same time as your bandmates and nod. You guys thought your band’s name was cool but people hardly ever said the full name, preferring to use the acronym instead.

"Yeah, you coming to watch the show?" Miles turns away from Jack handing him another part of the drum kit to engage with the olive skinned girl standing at the opening of the alley.

"For sure! I was wondering if I could request a song of yours that might not be on your setlist." Miles smiles and walks away from Jack and I and towards the pretty girl. Jack lets out a loud huff and rolls his eyes at Miles' back.

"Fuck boy," he mutters. You laugh at his annoyance and pick up where Miles left, grabbing cymbals and stands and bringing them inside.

"I'm serious. He better be back in time for sound check." You set down what you're holding and turn towards Jack.

"You're just jealous you couldn't go talk to her first."

"Well I was crouched in the back of the van like a cave man." Jack was used to getting all the girls since Miles had been in a serious relationship but in the past month, things went sour between Miles and Katie so now Jack had some competition.

"I'm sure there will be plenty more at the show you can talk to." As much as Jack's banter was entertaining you, you couldn't get the sad thought out of your mind that this was your last show on this tour. With all the money you guys spent on gas and food, you barely broke even with tips and your share of ticket profits. It would be a while before you guys could afford to do this again.

Instead of watching Jack put together his drum kit, you decide to pick up your bass again and start plucking out the beginning notes of your most recent song, singing along in your head.

“I told you I had to leave this town

heaven knows you'll be alright

need to get away from here

start focusing on my own life”

"So Denim Dreams has been requested," Miles hopped up onto the small stage and started taking his guitar out of its case.

"Ew dude," Jack pauses setting up his snare to reply. "That's our worst fucking song."

Miles just shrugs with a ghost of a smile on his face and Jack sighs.

"If you make me play that song you better at least be getting laid tonight." You laugh at the two boys and turn to face them fully.

"We need to make our setlist." The three of you always waited right before a show to make the setlist but with thirty minutes to go before the doors opened, you were pushing it tonight.

"Fuck, I forgot we didn't do that yet. Y/N you're the lead singer, it's your job." You roll your eyes and grab your phone from your back pocket to make an impromptu setlist in your notes app.

"Make sure Denim Dreams makes it on there for our beloved fans," Jack replies, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. Miles flips him off and they both laugh at their bickering.

After you're happy with how the setlist looks, you pass your phone to Jack and then Miles to get their approval.

"Looks good, y/nic." Miles goes quiet for a moment. "Let's make this a show to remember, it'll probably be a while before we get to be on a stage again." You note the sad look in his green eyes and solemnly nod your head in response.

Your manager, aka another one of your mutual friends with a degree in business, hops on the crowded stage and hands you a beer.

"Thanks, Kay." After promptly taking a long gulp from the cold bottle, you give her a smile. She was the first one to suggest you guys needing a manager and she handled everything off of the stage, which you were very thankful for.

Miles motions for you to pass the bottle to him and you do so, earning a grossed out look from Jack. He wasn't much of a drinker, but what he didn't indulge in alcohol-wise he certainly made up for in dope.

"You guys got the setlist and everything?" Kay continues to take the bottle from Miles and chugs the rest of the amber liquid. After deciding nods were a good enough answer, she continued, "Hope you guys are ready because there's actually a crowd outside."

You can't hide your shocked expression and she laughs.

"How many are here for us and how many are just here for the booze?"

"That I do not know, Jack, but I guess we'll find out," she winks and walks down the wobbly stairs to the main floor.  "I'll tell Bill you guys will be ready in ten. Make it happen."

"Shall we check our sound?"

--

You could feel the sweat dripping down your brow but that didn't matter in this moment. What matters is the screams and the yells from the crowd as you finish your song.

"This next one is called Denim Dreams," Miles speaks into the mic which elicits a scream from the left side of the bar, no doubt from that girl from earlier.

You turn and watch Jack for his cue to start when he gives you a nod. You pluck out the familiar riff of the song you had written about some guy you met years ago, Miles following with the strum of his guitar, and finally Jack with a few stomps to his bass drum.

As you started singing the lyrics, making yourself sound as if you were still in love with the man you had written this song about, you didn't notice the door to the bar open. You certainly didn't notice four boys walk in and make their way to the bar, their eyes on your band the whole time. In fact, it wasn't until you finished with Miles’ solo that you spotted the members of Greta Van Fleet clapping along with the crowd and smiling at you.

[napoleoninrags]

In honor of Black History Month, I'm about to blow your mind by telling you about the most badass historical figure you never learned about in school. If you have heard of him, then you probably already know who I'm about to say. If you haven't, you're not going to believe that nobody ever told you about this guy. I'm talking about Robert Smalls.

Robert Smalls was born into slavery on a South Carolina plantation. As a youth, he was permitted to go to Charleston and work, though he was forced to send most of his wages back to his master. He began taking jobs at the docks in Charleston Harbor, and later on some of the ships that came and went from the port. By the time the Civil War came around, Smalls had become an experienced seaman, so he was assigned to steer a Confederate Navy vessel called the Planter, based out of Charleston. The crew consisted of a few white officers and a number of slaves.

Smalls went to great lengths to show the Confederates that he was trustworthy and content; they never knew that he was hatching an elaborate plan to escape from slavery and deal a blow to the Confederacy, and that he had secretly recruited most of the enslaved crew in his plot. Then one night, when the Planter had docked in Charleston with a shipment of heavy guns aboard, Smalls put his plan into action. When the officers went ashore for the evening and left the ship in the care of the enslaved crew, Smalls led them in hijacking the vessel. They made one stop at another set of docks to pick up the families of Smalls and other crew members, who waited in hiding after having been notified of the scheme in advance.

They weren't in the clear yet, though, because they still had to sail past a number of Confederate checkpoints on their way to freedom. But Smalls had a plan for that, too: he had been watching the captain and learning the hand signals he used at the checkpoints. Donning the captain's uniform and trademark straw hat, he guided the Planter past five Confederate harbor forts by impersonating the captain and displaying the correct signals. By the time anyone realized the Planter had gone missing, it was too far gone to catch. He had his crew replace the Confederate flags aboard the ship with white ones, and they were intercepted by a Union vessel who saw the white flags just before they were about to fire. The Union sailors were perplexed by the sight of an all-black crew, until Robert Smalls came forward and shouted, "Good morning, sir! I've brought you some of the old United States guns, sir!" He then asked the Union sailors to give him a United States flag to raise on the Planter.

Robert Smalls' story would be amazing if it ended there, but it doesn't. After receiving a large sum of prize money for his delivery, he entered service in the Union Navy as a pilot on several vessels, including the repurposed Planter. In this role, he removed mines that he had helped lay as a slave, and participated in a number of sea battles. During one battle, the fighting grew so intense that the captain of the Planter hid in the interior of the ship and ordered the crew to surrender. Fearing that the black crewmen would be enslaved or killed if captured, Smalls refused to surrender; instead, he took command of the ship and navigated the Planter through the Confederate onslaught to safety. Because of his bravery, Smalls was promoted to captain himself, becoming one of the highest ranking and highest paid black officers in the Civil War.

Smalls leveraged his resulting fame into social activism, throwing his support into an initiative to educate former slaves, and becoming literate himself (in most Confederate states, it was illegal to teach a black person to read). While riding a streetcar in Philadelphia, he was ordered to give up his seat to a white passenger; Smalls left the car, rather than suffer the indignity of being forced to ride on the overflow platform. When word got out that a decorated hero of the Civil War had been humiliated thusly, it prompted a backlash that led to the integration of public transportation in Pennsylvania.

But Robert Smalls STILL wasn't finished. He entered politics, serving in the South Carolina legislature before becoming one of the first black people elected to the U.S. House of Representatives in 1874. And he remained active in public life into the 20th century; in 1913, he prevented the lynching of two black men accused of murder in his town by warning the mayor that the local black population would burn the city to the ground if the mob was not stopped.

And the plantation where Smalls had grown up a slave? He purchased it after the war, and lived there until his death in 1915. The monument at his grave is inscribed with this quote: "My race needs no special defense, for the past history of them in this country proves them to be the equal of any people anywhere. All they need is an equal chance in the battle of life."

And that is the story of the great American hero Robert Smalls, known by too few people today. I hope this post inspires some folks to learn more about his impressive life.

[idiocymybeloved]

Dear Diary

A school DSMP au of Dream’s villain origin story

Characters: Dream, George, Wilbur, mentions of Sapnap and BBH

Ships: Dreamnotfound and Georgebur(romantic or platonic, depends how you take it)

TW: Implied D3@th and M#rd3r

Cross posted on Wattpad

Dear diary, 

Today was my first day back at school after a week-long suspension. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, a few kids laughed at me, I sat alone at lunch again, but at least I didn't take my temper out on anyone. Progress I suppose. 

However, this time, I didn't walk home alone. 

The new kid, the one who moved in next to me a few days ago, recognized me. He followed me home casually, he didn't seem to know anything about me or my issues. Fine by me. I invited him over to my treehouse on the old tree in the backyard. 

He loved it. I spent the afternoon with him. His name's George, and he and his family of 3 moved to this little dinky town from NYC. He's colourblind, has two cats, and loves dandelions. And I mean loves. 

George's really nice, he liked the treehouse. He liked the big old tree. He liked our small house. He liked me. 

I hope he comes over again tomorrow, I like having a friend up in the treehouse.

- - -

Dear diary, 

I failed my math test today, and my mom gave me a whole lecture about it. 

I was lucky George(who got an A+ may I add,) was willing to help me study. 

We had fun. We spent the day in my tree house again, eating snacks as he brought me through all the old material and new material too. He makes me laugh and taught me more than the stupid teacher every could, or would. 

He's not like anyone I met before, and he doesn't treat me like I'm a scary animal. 

He treats me like I'm a human.

A friend. 

I don't want that to ever end. 

- - -

Dear diary, 

Two weeks of talking with George and we're officially best friends. He follows me everywhere; to school, during classes, recess, back home, and only leaves if his mom forces him back. 

I like him.

- - -

Dear diary, 

A few girls walked past our table today. They pointed at me and started laughing. I felt my ears burn and my vision turn red. I was about to say something when George stood up for me, yelling at them to shut up. 

I can't believe someone would do that just for me. 

- - -

Dear diary, 

Hi, sitting in detention while writing this. 

I know, I've been trying to do better and control myself but those girls from yesterday started to pick on George when they found out about his colour blindness. 

He looked so ashamed, I couldn't help but get mad. 

I think I scared them enough, they shouldn't come to bother us anymore. 

- - -

Dear diary,

I'm angry again. George kept getting picked on. 

Is it because of me? Is everyone mad at him for befriending me? 

They think I'm insane, don't they?

Anyways, after school, I still had my lunch money because I didn't feel like eating so I bought George some cute little glasses from the convenience store. They didn't do anything, but they sure looked cool. 

George looked more confident in them. 

I felt proud. 

- - -

Dear diary, 

Detention once more. Woo. 

My old friend, Sapnap, stepped on the glasses I bought for George and I yelled at them, or 'went ballistic' as Mr. Halo said. 

I could care less about that, that's not the point. As I came out of detention, George was still there as usual, waiting for me to go to our treehouse together. 

But as I got closer... I realized he wasn't alone. 

George was laughing and chatting eagerly with a boy in our class called Wilbur. When he saw me, he obviously came running back to me, ready to go home. Wilbur raised an eyebrow at me, looking somewhat ticked. I just rolled my eyes at him. 

- - -

Dear diary, 

Something's up with this Wilbur character. He keeps following me and George. 

We sat together as always, but it felt like Wilbur was always there, cracking jokes to George. It made my ears burn again. Everytime I tried to speak, he dismissed me with a wave of his hand and kept talking to George. 

George's my best friend, not his. 

Who does he think he is?

- - -

Dear diary, 

I am so done with Wilbur. 

I just want some time alone with George, like it was when we first met.

But he keeps butting in, and of course George is eager to let him come along. I guess I should be happy that George made a new friend. 

Except for the fact that this new friend literally hates my guts. 

Wilbur ignores me, pushes past me and keeps glaring at me when I get George's attention at all. Like dude, chill out a little. 

My ears burn and my jaw works every time he does that. 

Just leave us alone...

- - -

Dear diary, 

Nothing's the same anymore. Or everything's the same again. 

George went to Wilbur's house today, without me. Me? I went to my treehouse and tried to do the math homework but I can't focus on anything without George now. 

I miss him so much...

George, you're my best friend... right?

- - -

Dear diary, 

George's not the same. 

He still goes with me after school, sure, but in school? It's always Wilbur. He follows him and his posse, and Wilbur talks to him all the time. What about me? Am I just cast away now? 

George... come back. 

- - -

Dear diary,

George's not coming back. 

I messed up. 

I'm sorry...

- - -

Dear diary, 

Please.. Just make it stop. 

I didn't mean to scare George the way I did. I didn't mean to yell at him. It was instinct, I was just getting a little annoyed that everything's about Wilbur. Your new best friend. 

Please... I'd do anything to go back to that one night. Because now, everytime I look at George, he's regarding me with fear, remorse, panic as he clings on to Wilbur who seems to hate me even more now. Everytime I look into his eyes, I see nothing but dark anger.

A look I know way too well. 

George I'm sorry... I'm sorry I hurt you.

- - -

Dear diary,

It's my treehouse. 

Mine. 

I don't need anyone else and I never did! It's MY treehouse, George can leave me alone and I don't care at all! Go have fun with Wilbur, I don't care. 

It'll just be me and MY treehouse again. 

Because this'll always be mine. My treehouse, and there's nothing you can do about that. 

It's mine. 

Not ours. 

Not anymore. 

- - -

Dear diary, 

Everything hurts...

My insides seem to burn, everytime I look at them. Everytime I look at George, I see all my mistakes, all the ways I hurt him. 

And that Wilbur... 

It's all his fault. I hate him so much. He caused all these problems, if it weren't for him, I'd be fine. Screw Wilbur. 

I wish I could just erase him off the face of the earth. 

- - 

Dear diary,

...what if I could? What if I could get rid of him? For good?

Would that fix everything?

- - - 

Dear diary, 

It's going to work.

- - -

Dear diary, 

Hi, I'm sorry I've been gone for 3 days. It's been... quite hectic. 

Wilbur is gone. 

Ha. My plan worked. 

I didn't realize the repercussions of it. 

I didn't realize George was in his house at the same time. 

And I most certainly didn't realize that it wasn't Wilbur who I originally killed. 

...I don't want to talk about it. 

- - -

Dear diary,

The newspaper, television, school gossip... all they can talk about is the sudden disappearance of him. 

All I hear and see 24/7, is him.

Just shut up, okay? I didn't mean to...

I'm scared diary.

What do I do? 

I just wanted George back...

- - - 

Dear diary,

WHY CAN'T EVERYONE LEAVE ME ALONE?

CAN THEY ALL JUST SHUT UP! I'M SORRY, OK? JUST LEAVE ME BE I DON'T NEED ANYONE AND I DON'T WANT THEM TO BE HERE! 

MOTHER, TEACHERS, PEERS, THEY ALL ARE WORRIED FOR ME! IF YOU'RE WORRIED, JUST LET ME BE. 

- - -

Dear diary,

Mother's gone. 

I've been sitting in the treehouse for the past hours. I shed no tears for her. 

I definitely shed more tears for George. 

I still imagine him hugging me as I fall asleep in my treehouse. 

- - -

Dear diary, 

Now what? 

I can't go back to school.

And this new craving inside of me... it's driving me insane. 

What if I ran away? Would anyone care?

- - -

Dear diary, 

I thought about it more. I need to leave with a bang.

- - - 

Dear diary, 

The deed is done. 

Thanks for being there with me through it all diary. 

But I'm not coming back. 

Don't worry, soon you'll hear about me as the ruler of the world. 

I'll be back. 

Signed, 

Dream. 

[4aloysius-porteu]

i really wish i hated you || tsukishima kei

masterlist | 1 | chapter 2  | 3

pairing: tsukishima kei x f! reader

sypnosis: It was an accident that (Y/N) met a certain tall, blonde male; a memory she isn't fond of remembering, but it is where it all started. And ever since, she magically makes her to his path. The image of the bespectacled man dwelled in her mind more than she thought. Tsukishima pushed away his softer emotions and denied their existence, or at least that's what he told himself. But then, he couldn't believe that this girl he labeled as a clumsy, unlucky creature who smashed his glasses is slowly bringing these strange emotions back to him. She might be irritating and dumb sometimes, but he couldn't get himself to completely hate her. Either that destiny was stupid, or he was blessed or cursed.

genre: fanfiction, fluff

wc: 1881

(Y/N) stopped her tracks upon hearing his voice and turned around to confirm, but it was true, much to her dismay. He held his black-rimmed glasses with its left lens and frame cracked. The girl's mind went blank. She hesitantly glanced at him a few times, hoping that he would forgive her or let the incident smoothly slide.

He hissed, "Don't think you can get away with this, miss."

She sighed in defeat. The kids approached her with worried looks. She patted her heads, accepting their sympathy. "Well, playtime's over."

"But we haven't finished the game!"

"Do you still want to play?"

"Yes!"

"Next time, when you see me again at the park. Onee-chan has to go now."

She bade goodbye to the children and walked towards the guy she hit with his friend. She looked at his broken glasses again and couldn't help but to let out an exhale with anxiety. This is the result of my stupidity...

"W-What do you want me to do?" (Y/N) slurred.

" I don't know, maybe you should fix it right here and right now." The blonde guy crossed his arms and frowned.

Why don't you just get to the point?

"Replace it."

Of course, she will have to replace it. What a question to ask. She mentally rolled her eyes.

"I'll check there out if there's an optical store, I guess you will have to keep an eye on me so that I won't escape?" She pointed to the nearby mall, walking distance from the park.

"What else? Nobody trusts a stranger."

They reached the town's mall and saw an open optical store, but (Y/N) remembered her wallet. She wasn't sure if there's enough money for her to buy glasses.

"On the second thought, can I buy the glasses tomorrow? I don't think I have enough money."

"No." He instantly replied.

"Tsukki," His green-haired companion interrupted, "Maybe we can give her a chance? What if she's telling the truth?"

"I need my glasses in my everyday life, and if she doesn't have the money, I'll be happy to spare her some, but she'll have no choice to be in my debt."

How merciless. It's not like (Y/N) could blame him, but if the same thing happened to her, she would treat them nicely. She looked around the store to find a pair of glasses exactly like his, as he demanded, with his friend helping her for 30 minutes. After she gets the correct measurements and eye grade, she emptied her wallet to pay for the damn thing,

"Here." She held out the new glasses in the case. "Take care of them, it costed my LAST savings."

He took them and wore them immediately, "I am taking care of my glasses, it's just someone 'accidentally' kicked a ball on my way and knocked them off. Thank you for the horrible experience."

He excused himself and walked away. His friend stayed to talk to her.

"I'm sorry for the way he acted, he's like this most of the times. Please understand," He bowed, shyness evident in his voice.

"It's okay, it was completely my fault, so I don't mind."

"It was an accident, though. Thank you for your generosity." He soon followed the blondie that headed first.

"That was mandatory, though." (Y/N) lightly chuckled to herself.

She got out of the mall to take in the fresh air, but her soul almost left her body when a bolt of lightning strikes a tree near her, setting it on fire.

"Oh, my fucking- Did the sky just attempted to finish me?!" She said, calming herself down and looking up. The clouds were much darker than earlier.

As the townspeople bombed the burning tree with water, she ran to her apartment before it rains. There, she dropped her things on the couch and flopped to her bed, thinking what happened on this day because of her own stupidity. She groaned when she held her now empty wallet.

"Argh! Why am I so unlucky?!"She threw her wallet in frustration.

"That tall, blonde, asshole! He didn't need to embarrass me in front of people! I didn't mean it! He could've waited for tomorrow for me to replace his glasses! He's so unforgiving!" She complained, hating the thought of the said guy.

She sighed, cringe, anger, and embarrassment filling her head as she hugged her pillow.

"May karma comes to him sometime," was her last words before drifting off to a nap.

A few days passed, she went out of the house again to buy food supplies in a convenience store. It was almost nighttime. The chilly wind blew to her face and the sweet scent wafted in the store. She picked up some junk food and meat first before stopping by the confectioneries section. While choosing what shortcake flavor to pick, she bumped into something that almost made her fall to the floor, if she hadn't retained her balance.

"Oof, I'm sorry..."

Or rather, it was a person she bumped into.

She looked up and recognized the face of the man. It was the guy she's kind of mad at, but this time, he didn't have his nice friend with him.

(Y/N) took a step back, "You!"

The male looked back at her, tilting his head, observing the girl. He spoke with a monotonous expression, "Do I know you?"

Her eye twitched in irritation, "He doesn't remember me?!"

"I was the girl in the playground three days ago! I... I replaced your glasses!" She said, hesitating on the next sentence.

"Oh." His eyebrows raised, "Did the midget learned her lesson not to play a sport she's bad at?" He mocked.

"I'm not even a soccer player to begin with! What are you doing here?"

"What? Am I not allowed to buy food in a convenience store like a normal person?"

"I've been buying stuff here and I've never seen a similar face I've met twice in a week or month. That's sus."

"Maybe you are following me."

"What do I gain by following a huge, mean person like you?" (Y/N) retorted.

"Perhaps you want to get back at me after what happened days ago even if it's your fault. I don't know. Ask yourself." He took his eyes off her to choose among the sweet desserts.

She paused, analyzing his comment, "Well, you aren't completely wrong..."

"So, I am being followed? What a stalker."

"Of course not! What you said might be possible, but it's not the case right now!"

Both of them have set their eyes on an item and surprisingly the same one. A strawberry shortcake in the middle of the section. Their hands both grabbed the object before staring at each other in annoyance.

"Let go." They chorused.

"I chose it first." Said (Y/N).

"I do not see your name in it. You let go." He replied.

"How about no?"

They glared at each other for a few minutes before (Y/N)'s brows creased deeper in the middle, knowing well that this guy won't back down. "Whatever, you take it. I don't care anymore."

"Wow, thanks." He subtly rolled his eyes then walked away.

It was very awkward in the cashier where she had to wait behind him. Damn, he's so tall. Does he play any sport? Is he human? Or probably just a walking, mean tree?

What happened in the park flashed in (Y N)'s mind again. The impact of the ball might have been so painful to him since he wears glasses, where it cracked. What if the shards got into his eyes? Her wallet isn't ready for more payments, but that isn't the issue right now. She was worried about his well being. Both of them got out of the convenience store and she called the blonde male before he could get away again.

"Uhh, hey!"

He looked over his shoulder a little, "What?"

"Are your eyes okay? I mean, your glasses cracked... shards could've got inside your eyes..."

"Yes, they're fine, fortunately."

(Y/N) let out a sigh of relief. "That's... good to hear."

"But if something happened to my eyes, I will not hesitate to find you and make you pay for an eye surgery."

"You're exaggerating."

"It's not impossible. Now, go home. Elementary school students shouldn't go past the curfew."

She frowned. If only he wasn't a stranger, she would've kicked his ass to hell.

"Oh, gladly. I wouldn't want to stay near a bootleg Eiffel Tower any longer. Have a good day for you."

The blonde male left without any more words. (Y/N) sighed again in mental exhaustion, having to finish a lot of things this night. She was walking straight to her home while thinking of ideas to put in her current project when she realized that he was still walking ahead in front of her.

Where is he going?

She made her footsteps lighter, not wanting him to think that she was following him. She was thinking where does this guy live or why is he walking the same route as she does. It's not wrong to know where does this asshole stay, right? This continued for a couple of minutes before he turned around.

"Will you stop following me?"

Her eyes widened, not expecting him to know that she was behind him, "Excuse me? I'm just walking to my place?"

"Really?" He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

(Y/N) looked around to find a way to escape. There, she saw her house that she almost missed because her mind was occupied, "Oh, look. It's my house. I gotta go!"

She waved goodbye to the blonde stranger, ran to her apartment, and slammed the door, dying from the awkwardness. She proceeded to the kitchen to drop the food supplies and to cook for herself as well. The salt in the cupboard reminded her of the rude, four eyes that she just met again minutes ago. That's when she realized, she kept calling him either insults or his evident physical features when he probably has a name. She could've asked for his name earlier, but shrugged the idea off, thinking that he will never give her his name.

The common thing to do after graduating junior high is to find a decent high school. (Y/N) is scheduled to have her entrance exams next week, so she has to spend time reviewing her notes these days. She opted to go to the prefectural library the next day to get further references as she isn't satisfied with the books she has. It was Wednesday, thus it was full of people who are also preparing for their entrance exams. With her stature, it'll be easy to pass in this crowd of people but she will have to ask for help because she can't reach the books at the top of the shelves.

After wandering around the crowded library, she found an unoccupied table to quietly study. She made her way to it, carrying the heavy books she needed that was luckily located at the bottom shelves. As she set the books on the left side of the table, someone did the same on the opposite side. She looked up to see who the stranger is, only to find out that the person isn't a stranger to her anymore.

"Oh, the midget stalker is here." 

©4aloysius.porteu.2021. please do not repost, copy, or edit. plagiarism is punishable by law.

[fandom-blackhole]

Hello, hello it's me, your partner in crime 🐣 who's got a batch of new ideas.

So Din has his australian shepherd Razor Crest,

I feel like Boba is more of a cat person and he's a busy man so he wouldn't have time for walks anyway,

I was initially thinking about either a sphynx cat or a British shorthair, these are really fancy breeds, but

I've got this idea, maine coon! This breed is fancy too!

Big kitty resting on his meaty thigh or in his lap 😳 (okay are we keeping this PG or at some point we are gonna go to town)

Oh and of course we can't obviously name kitty slave (Din points for you for the name of your ship working here)

Okay, back to work. Umm Paz...

While I love idea of him owning any breed, taking home any strays from the back alley of his restaurant, we need to remember that his living space is limited,

It's cheesy but imagine the spaghetti scene from Lady and The Trump recorded irl by Paz and Sent to you,

So a good doggo for Paz? Chihuahua?

Like there is this huge, chunky, ex-army man, which owns the best restaurant in Town, going around, stocking supplies with his little companion tucked under his arm,

Because of his bde he won't be ashamed of carrying his pet in cute little bag!

Razor Crest is such a good girl. She instantly starts loving you and Grogu,

Din is a busy man but still he manages to go jogging with her, his girlie needs a lot of activities since she is a shepherd dog (also Din with nicely toned legs because of the joggs? Ok ok keep this PG! Unless👉🏽👈🏽😳)

Grogu would still occasionally try to eat anything he can find (bad habit from his troubled upbringing but you and Din are working on fixing it though!)

This means Grogu would gladly share a "snack" with his big sister, and vice versa she once brought him her chewy snack,

Let's say you and Din need to visit uncle Paz more often, so Grogu develops proper taste for human, non-object food,

Crest sleeps with you and Din in bed. Neither of you can deny her that privilege,

But when Din finally adopts Grogu and the kiddo moves in, Crest will only sleep with him, guarding the little one all the time,

You and Din have no idea, but once Grogu snatched a small ball from daddy's car,(shiny-metal-ball-thingy from ship but in this case it's not metal and is child and pet friendly?) maybe he got it for kids at school but was forgetting to take it with him, Din big dummy dum,

Boba's lockscreen is a photo of you curled on the bed with the kitty atop of you(he is a big softie for both of you),

He has a huge folder with full on photos hoots of his cat,

But most pictures are blurred and the cat looks into camera like "human, don't bother me, human pet me, human bring treats),

Nonetheless, he treasures them dearly,

Paz' place is pet friendly,

He even has some dog and cat special dishes on the menu,

His doggo is his best culinary critic (after you of course),

Paz is thinking about making some accommodations in the backyard, back at home because he desperately wants to rescue more strays, but he keeps in mind that his farm animals need proper care too,

So he holds an event with local shelter at his place,

You help him organize everything perfectly, there is delicious food and lots of cute pets who are looking for a new home,

After fruitful ending you decide on collaborating witj the shelter as often as possible,

Paz even helped his old army pal adopt a dog because as a, selfcare king, he knows animals can provide great help when someone struggles with ptsd or anxiety.

As always please don't mind my mistakes. I hope you have been doing well, my writing bestie - 🐣

Screaming!!! Okay so sorry for taking so long, Saturdays are my 'busy' days lmao, also this can get as spicy as you want! I'm down for anything......

Please for the love of God yes, Boba totally has a Maine coon aka my favorite cat breed

He loves this cat dearly and you love when it comes and curls up on your lap

As for the name, what about Fennec??? Unless you want to have her be like his right hand in his organization

And Paz totally picks up strays and takes them to the local no kill shelter, he wants to keep them all, but he knows he can't

Paz is constantly sending the reader pictures of dogs and cats and animals doing various things, and recreating movie scenes

As for Paz's dog, a Chihuahua is so fucking perfect!!! Huge man with tiny dog yes please

(Though I may be biased because I own a three legged chihuahua named Guinevere aka Gwen)

Paz totally goes around shopping and everything with his little pupper with him (did you know they have harness for dogs so that you can carry them around like babies....so like my new pp except instead of Grogu its a doggo)

Paz also definitely allows pets into the restaurant and even has a little dog area for the pets to mingle while you eat

He of course is also a 5 star chef when it comes to feeding the animals, making sure to check all of the boxes when it comes to their basic nutritional needs

OMFG BIG BRAIN MOMENT, Paz is a certified rehabilitator for animals, he will take in hurt animals, domestic and wild, and help them until he can release them back into the wild or take them to the shelter/give them to a good home

Din totally goes jogging when he can, and he has a jogging stroller so Grogu can go with him (Grogu is on the smaller side because of his past hardships)

Grogu sooooo gets into Razor's treats (my sister used to walk along our alley behind our house and eat our dogs 😂😂)

Grogu and Razor are also partners in crime, they steal stuff and share the spoils all the time (hence why Din doesn't give Grogu chocolate or anything bad for dogs yet)

Din once found Grogu chewing on a bone he gave Razor and almost had a heart attack

Also the images of Grogu curled around Razor in his tiny space shipped bed, 102038302/10 too fucking cute (Grogu's room is space themed and you totally helped Din set everything up for him)

As for the metal ball, in this AU what if its like a small moon plushy that Din had in his classroom that Grogu keeps managing to sneak home until Din just gives up and let's him keep it? (Thats how the two of you got the idea for a space themed room)

Boba being a total grandpa taking pictures of his kitty to send to you all the time, aka another reason why they are blurry because Boba can't take a good picture to save his life lmao

Paz totally holds drives for the local shelter and events for people to come and meet animals they can adopted

Paz holding nights at the restaurant where all of the money is donated to the shelter and at the cash register he gives out home made dog biscuits as thank yous for coming in and donating

Omg Paz help his buddies with getting animals 😭😭

Also I raise you, Paz owns rabbits as well that he often takes with him when he visits Din's classroom (one of them is Grogu's and he comes over and plays with it and feeds it once a week)

(Send me THOTS!!)

[fics-n-stuff]

Empty Castle

Pairing: JJ x reader

Summary: Three weeks after John B and Sarah Cameron were lost at sea, Kildare is still reeling from the dramatic events surrounding the death of its sheriff. JJ in particular has been struggling to get back to normal, so Y/N goes to try and help him get back on his feet. Sequel to Holding Cell.

Warnings: tiny bit of swearing, v sad JJ

Word Count: 4.2k (about double what I originally intended)

A/N: This took way longer than expected and I didn't mean for this to be so sad but it got real sad, so there isn't really anything beyond platonic until towards the end. I would highly suggest that you read Holding Cell first (perhaps because I worked hard on it and I want people to read it) but if you really don't want to then all you really need to know is that JJ and Y/N were childhood friends but hadn't spoken for two years until they both got arrested on the same day and they decided to be friends again. Cool, enjoy! :)

The bell for the end of school rang and the crowd of teenagers swarmed out, and you made your way to the bike rack along with your friends.

"So, my house for movie night?" Jess said, and the rest of your friends chorused in agreement.

"Actually, I have something else to do." You replied, fastening your helmet. "I'll come by after if I finish up in time."

"What are you doing?"

"I need to go see someone." You replied, quickly getting on your bike before any further questions could be asked. "Later guys."

You cycled out to the house that you knew was where John B lived - basically the entire island knew where he lived after everything that had happened - and left your bike on the porch. The front door was open.

"JJ?" You called tentatively. "Are you here?" You heard movement from one of the rooms and turned towards it, seeing JJ walk out a few moments later. He looked disheveled, shirtless and with messy hair.

"Y/N?" He asked, surprised. His voice was slightly gravelly, like he'd woken up not long ago. "Why are you here?"

"I came to find you, JJ. School started on Monday, you've missed the whole week."

"School started?" His question made you frown in worry. "Wait, how did know I'd be here?"

"Because you're not anywhere else." You answered, putting down your school bag. "Nobody's really seen you. I stopped by at your house and your dad said-"

"You did what?"

"Relax, JJ, it's not as if he has any idea who I am. And he told me that you haven't been home in two weeks."

"I'm surprised he's kept track." JJ muttered.

"Clearly you haven't." The comment made JJ pause. He ruffled his hair and let out a long sigh, looking down at his own appearance. "What have you been doing these past weeks?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "It's kinda blurred. I go to work, I go fishing, I smoke. I really didn't realise that school had started." He crossed the room to the sofa and grabbed a tank top off of the back of it, throwing it on before making his way to the kitchen.

"So I take it you've just been living here." You stated, looking around the mess that had accumulated in the house.

"Yeah. Pope and Lie have been staying away from the place ever since, uh..." He trailed off, pushing his tongue against his cheek and clearing his throat. "But me, I'm here basically all the time. They use Heyward's boat so I've got the HMS Pogue all to myself; they use Kie's car, I get that busted up van." He laughed, but there was a real sadness behind it.

You watched JJ as he made himself a sandwich, and even from a distance you could tell that there was barely any food in that kitchen. A few seconds passed and you spun on your heel, starting to collect empty food packages from around the room.

"What are you doing?"

"Cleaning." You answered matter-of-factly. "If you insist on staying here, I insist that you keep it clean."

"Why do you even care?"

When you turned around to face him JJ was leaning against the kitchen door frame. He wasn't looking at you, rather he was staring at the floor. His body language was relaxed but you knew that that wasn't how he was feeling.

"What happened to the 'giving to whole friendship thing another try' deal?" You replied. "I'm just trying to live up to my side of the agreement."

"Maybe that wasn't such a great idea."

"Okay." You muttered after a stretch of silence. "Let's try this again later. You go off back to your bedroom or whatever, I'll clean up here and we can reconvene at a later time." You pushed past him into the kitchen to look through the cabinets for trash bags, and when you found them you pushed past him back to the living room.

"Y/N-"

"I'm not leaving, JJ, so don't even try it." You interrupted, throwing empty bottles and cans into a trash bag. You heard him mutter something under his breath and disappear down the hall, slamming the door shut behind him. You scoffed and continued clearing the house.

You got rid of all of the trash from the living room and the kitchen before knocking on the door to the room JJ had shut himself in. By now he'd had about half an hour of preparation for a civil conversation.

When you opened the door he was lying on his back on the bed with a hat covering his face, but you knew he was awake because he kept fiddling with his fingers and tensing and untensing his jaw.

"You ready to talk about it?" You asked softly, taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

"No." He mumbled, his response muffled by the hat over his face.

"Want a hug?" He didn't answer, so you took his silence to mean 'yes but I don't want to say it out loud'. You kicked off your shoes and shuffled up the bed so that you were lying beside JJ, draping an arm over his body and resting your head on his chest. He let out a long sigh and slowly wrapped his arm around your body, pulling you in closer.

You stayed like that for a long time, just listening to yourselves breathe while you waited for JJ to be ready to talk to you.

"We really ran off a cliff, didn't we?" He finally broke the silence, his voice quiet and full of emotion as he removed the hat from over his face. "Pope lost his scholarship, I've become a complete pothead, John B and Sarah are missing. We don't even have the gold."

"Gold?" You questioned.

"We found the wreck of the Merchant, Y/N." He whispered, staring up at the ceiling. "And we found the gold, underneath the Craine house, and Ward Cameron took the whole lot out from under us while the town was on a manhunt for John B."

"Oh my god, JJ!" You exclaimed, sitting up. "You seriously found the Merchant gold?"

"Yep. To finish what Big John started. But it doesn't matter now, it's gone. Just like John B." His voice broke as he said his best friend's name, and you lay back down beside him.

"I'm sorry."

"They could still be out there, right?" JJ murmured. "I mean, they found the Phantom but they didn't find John B and Sarah. Maybe they got picked up by a ship."

"Yeah of course, that's totally possible." You nodded. The silence stretched out again, JJ sniffling every now and then as if holding back from crying.

After a while you sat up, getting JJ's attention and he turned his head to look at you.

"Let's go grocery shopping." You said. "There's barely any food in this house, you need some supplies."

"I haven't really got the money, Y/N."

"My parents just left town and I never spend all of the money that they leave so we can use that." You replied adamantly. "You need to get some human contact, okay? So let's go."

You climbed off of the bed and put your shoes back on before pulling JJ up as well. Reluctantly, he put on some shoes and grabbed the keys to John B's van.

+++

The two of you were out for about an hour. You stopped off at your house to grab the cash before going to the grocery store, where you ended up leading the shopping trip because JJ apparently had basically no knowledge of nutrition. Being with another person seemed to bring JJ out of the haze that he had been presumably for the past few weeks; he even smiled at a joke you made while you were at the checkout.

"I didn't expect you to have enough money for a full grocery shop." JJ said as the two of you packed the food away in the kitchen.

"Well, because my parents don't talk to each other they also don't coordinate their trips out of town which most often results in them both leaving money for me." You explained. "I never tell them, I just keep the extra cash as compensation for the neglect." You smiled, closing the cabinet you had been packing things into and turning around to take a seat on the counter. JJ finished putting away the last of the groceries and leant against the wall opposite you, folding his arms over his chest.

"Why'd you really come find me?" He asked.

"Well, after John B and Sarah got lost in the storm it was obvious that you weren't going to be doing the best." You answered, watching him carefully to gauge how he was feeling. "And when you didn't show up for school all of this week, I figured that you might need a friend to bring you back to reality."

"I, uh, I appreciate that." He nodded, his lips turning upwards into a small smile.

"Happy to help." A silence settled between you again, as it had many times throughout the evening, but it felt a little different this time; slightly more tense, but not in a bad way.

"Do you wanna go out on the boat?" JJ suggested. "The sun's about to set."

"Sure. Sounds nice." You replied, hopping off of the counter. His smile grew and he kicked off the wall, adjusting his hat on his head as he headed back to the front door, you following after.

You took a seat on the bow of the boat while JJ got it going, and you stayed in silence as he drove you out into the marsh. The sky was orange and violet when he anchored the Pogue, and he came to take a seat beside you.

"It's nice, isn't it?" He said quietly, looking out at the sun setting over the water. "I come out here most nights if I'm not still at work."

"Yeah, it's beautiful." You nodded. "What's your job?"

"Busboy in a hotel restaurant. You got a job?"

"Nah, I've got my absent parent money." You looked over at JJ and you could see sympathy in his eyes. "Don't feel bad for me, it's really not so terrible." You chuckled. You didn't need sympathy; certainly not from JJ, who was in a far more difficult situation than you.

You talked idly as you watched the sunset and when the sky turned dark you had settled into silence and lay back on the boat to look up at the stars. The two of you were lying with your hands on your stomachs, your elbows touching with the proximity in the small boat.

"What if they're not out there?" JJ whispered, barely audible.

"Then... we learn to keep going." You answered, turning your head to look at him. "Look, JJ, I was never as close to John B as you were, and I have no idea how you guys became friends with Sarah Cameron, but whether they're out or not, and whether they cane back, you'll always have them with you."

He turned to look at you too, tears shining in his eyes, and you reached a hand out to grab his and interlocked your fingers.

"I know it's cliché, but it's true." You smiled reassuringly. "They left you a piece of themselves to keep in your heart, and nothing can ever take that from you." He held onto your hand tightly, a single tear escaping his eye as he tensed his jaw to try and hold back any more.

"I really miss him, Y/N." He sniffled. "He was my brother, you know." You quickly moved to hug JJ, your body half on top of his as he wrapped his arms around you tightly and buried his face in your shoulder as he started to break down.

You maneuvered the two of you into a sitting position so that you could wrap your arms around him properly, cradling his head in your hand. He held onto you tightly, his tears soaking through your t-shirt and his body shaking with his sobs.

Minutes passed before JJ calmed down, and you held onto his shoulders as you broke away from the hug.

"You'll be alright. Okay?" You said softly, and he nodded. "I'll drive us back." You wiped away the tears on his face with your thumbs with a smile, before getting up to bring up the anchor.

JJ stayed where he was sat while you drove the boat back to John B's house. You docked the boat and went inside, the atmosphere heavy. He took a seat on the sofa while you flicked on the lights.

"Can I tell you something, Y/N?" He asked.

"Yeah, of course."

"I used to have the biggest crush on you when we were kids." The confession left you a little shocked, but you didn't show it, and JJ continued. "John B used to tease me about it all the time. When we were thirteen, after, like, four years of pining after you, he told me that I just needed to man up and tell you... but I never did, and then our friendship kind of just fell apart."

"Why are you telling me this now?" You questioned, and JJ let out a sigh before shrugging.

"I don't know. With John B missing and you suddenly back in my life... it just feels weird." He answered. "But I'm glad that you're here. I think I really need it."

"I think you do too." You chuckled. "Now, I'm gonna make us something to eat."

"Us?"

"What, you don't want me to stay?"

"No!" He defended himself loudly, making you laugh. "No, that's not it at all. I just wasn't expecting you to."

"Well, I have nowhere else to be." You smiled before disappearing into the kitchen.

You busied yourself in cooking, cutting up some chicken and vegetables and throwing them into a stir fry. You were completely absorbed in what you were doing, humming to yourself while you pushed the food around the pan with a wooden spatula, so when you felt a hand on your shoulder it made you jump.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." JJ apologised quickly, taking a small step back. "I said your name but you didn't hear me."

"Oh, really? Sorry." You chuckled. "What did you want?"

"Just... You weren't weirded out that I used to have a crush on you?" He asked tentatively.

"No, of course not." You shrugged turning back to the pan. "I'll admit it was a little surprising, but we were kids and we were super close. Jess used to tease me about that all the time."

"About us being close?"

"Yeah. I remember one time she totally freaked out because you called me pretty. Can you get a couple of plates out for me please?" You heard JJ open a cupboard and take out a couple of plates.

"For what it's worth," He said, setting the plates down on the counter beside you and taking out some cutlery. "I still think you're pretty."

"Aw, thanks JJ." You smiled. "You're not too bad yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He countered, feigning offense, and you laughed.

"Nothing. You're a good looking guy; not at all like the chubby cheeked little kid that I used to know."

You dished up your meals and you and JJ went back to the living room to eat. You kicked you legs up onto the sofa with your plate on your lap and tucked in. It was later in the evening than you would usually eat, so you were eager to get some food into your stomach. Even still, JJ practically vaccumed in the food and finished before you did. He took the plates back through to kitchen when you finished.

"You gonna head home any time soon?" He asked.

"I'm not in a rush." You shrugged. "I'll just be going back to an empty house." JJ hummed in acknowledgement. He lifted your legs up to sit on the couch beside you, putting them back down on his lap once he'd gotten himself situated. Maybe him being in such a vulnerable situation earlier had accelerated your connection, but it was like those two years that you didn't talk at all never even happened; you were just as close as ever, if not more somehow.

"You're gonna stick around, right?" He said, turning to look at you. You tilted your head slightly.

"Of course." You reassured, smiling. "I'm not gonna leave you now, of all times. Besides, I missed you and we were supposed to be trying the friendship thing again anyway."

"Yeah, the friendship thing." He muttered, downcatsing his gaze, and you frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"JJ, you can tell me." You took your legs off of his lap and crossed them under you, shuffling forwards towards JJ and lowering your head to try and catch his gaze.

"I..." He began but trailed off immediately. He let out a loud sigh, running a hand over his face and through his hair before taking a deep breath. "I know that I might just be saying this because I'm kinda fucked up in the head with my friends being lost at sea and all, but I think I still like you Y/N. As more than a friend." He rambled.

"JJ, we didn't speak to each other for two years." You replied, taken aback by what he was saying and trying to introduce some reason into the conversation.

"I know- I know that, Y/N, but... it doesn't feel like anything has changed for me." He explained, mirroring your body language and crossing his legs under himself to face you. "I get it, it's stupid, but I can't help that. I mean, I know that we were literally twelve years old but when we were friends before I think that there was something there. Maybe I'm biased because I liked you, but maybe..."

He looked at you, his eyes searching for any tell of what you were thinking, and there was a long pause while you thought.

"Even if there was something." You started slowly. "We were kids, JJ."

"We still are kids. We're sixteen." He argued. "When we were at the sheriff's station I felt something there, even though we hadn't spoken for two years. Tell me you didn't feel it too."

You looked away from him and took a deep breath. You would be lying if you said that you never had any feelings for JJ - he was probably the first real crush that you had - and it was probably your feelings for him that made you react so strongly when he would get himself into trouble. And you did think that being with JJ again felt much the same as it had done back then; plus, you hadn't been lying when you said that he'd grown up to be pretty handsome. Even still, he was going through an incredibly difficult time and you didn't think it would be a good idea to start any kind of relationship.

"Maybe... Maybe there might be something." You mumbled. "But right now really isn't the time to try it."

"Why not?"

"Because... well, you..." You struggled to articulate what you wanted to say.

"Y/N, I know it's a really messed up time, okay? Two of my best friends are lost at sea and I haven't spoken to the other two in weeks. I have lost all of the people closest to me and I feel completely alone, so maybe the fact that you're literally the only person that I have right now is making my feelings more extreme - I recognise that - but that doesn't mean that they're not real."

"JJ, I can't in good conscience agree to pursuing anything with you right now." You replied softly, shaking your head. It hurt you to have to say no.

"Don't you want to try?" He asked, voice a little weak as he looked into your eyes. "It doesn't need to be a huge commitment, we can just give it a try."

You looked over his face, the cogs turning in your mind as you thought through the situation. You really did want to give it a try, you were just worried that it might do JJ more harm than good. But the longer you ĺooked and him and the more you thought about the possibility, the more you wanted to pursue it.

"No promises, no big commitments... but I'll stick around." You smiled slightly, and you put a hand gently against JJ's cheek when he smiled back. "I just don't want you to get into something that's not good for you." He chuckled, taking your hand from his face and holding it in both of his.

"You've always been looking out for me." He mumbled, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. "Where would I be without you?"

"Somewhere messy I'm sure." You smiled.

"Definitely."

You sat in silence for a minute. You were watching JJ's face while he fiddled with your fingers. He let out puffs of air every once in a while like he had just remembered something funny, and it made you smile. You yawned, suddenly realising that you were actually really tired.

"Since I'd be going home to an empty house anyway," you began, breaking the short silence. "Would you be alright with me maybe staying here for the night?" JJ looked up from your hands with an amused smile.

"Of course." He answered happily. "I could use the company."

"Great."

He stood up from the sofa and gently pulled you up after him. Your hands remained connected as he walked you through to the same bedroom as earlier and flicked on the lights.

"This is where I've been crashing." He said, quickly scratching the back of his neck. "You can stay here with me if you want, or you can stay in the other bedroom if you'd rather do that." He became noticeably more tense at the mention of the other bedroom, and you just knew that it was because that was John B's room even though you'd never been there before.

"I'll stay here." You smiled, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. "Can I borrow a t-shirt?"

"Yeah, sure." He let go of your hand and crossed the room to a duffel bag in the corner. "There's stuff in all the drawers so I've kinda just been living out of this thing." He pulled out a t-shirt and handed it to you.

"Thank you." You smiled as you took it. JJ nodded awkwardly and shuffled past you out of the room, pulling the door shut after himself.

You quickly rid yourself of your school clothes and put on the t-shirt that JJ gave you - which was long and baggy on your body - before hopping onto the bed and covering your legs with the covers. He came back in not long later carrying two glasses of water.

"I figured you might want a drink at some point." He mumbled, setting the glass down on the bedside table. You gave a grateful smile and quiet thanks as he turned on the bedside lamp and then went to turn off the main light.

"We used to have sleepovers sometimes when we were kids." You mumbled as he walked around the bed and climbed in beside you. "Do you remember?"

"Yeah, of course I do." He smiled, lying down. "We used to stay up until midnight thinking that it was a big deal."

"It was back then. Midnight is really late when you're ten years old."

"I miss when little things like that could be so exciting." He sighed, staring up at the ceiling. You looked down at him thoughtfully, absentmindedly reaching out to brush a piece of hair out of his face.

"Well, anything can be exciting with the right company." You said softly. His eyes shifted to connect with yours and he smiled ever so slightly. "We have the whole weekend ahead of us, maybe we could do something fun. Go surfing, like old times, maybe?"

"That sounds nice." He murmured.

You shuffled down the bed to rest your head on the pillows and reached over to flick off the table lamp. You lay on your side facing JJ as he remained looking up at the ceiling. With the moonlight coming through the window you could just see the silhouette of his face and a slight shine where the light reflected off his eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" You whispered after a while.

"Lots of stuff."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Maybe tomorrow." He answered with a sigh, turning his head to look at you. "But thanks."

"No problem." You smiled. "We'll talk tomorrow." You shuffled towards JJ and curled into his chest as he wrapped an arm around you. You felt him press a very light kiss to the top of your head and it made you smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He replied, holding you a little tighter, and you fell asleep in each other's arms. For the first time since John B and Sarah went missing, JJ had some comfort and you were happy to be the person to provide that for him.

[bumblesimagines]

Lie

Request: Yes or No

I heard you told your friends that I'm just not your type

If that's how you really feel, then why'd you call last night?

You say all I ever do is just control your life

But how you gonna lie like that, how you gonna lie like that?

"Yeah, nah, man. (Y/N) is dope, but he's just not my type, ya know? I think I was just.. Experimenting with what I like." Chuck explained to his friends. (Y/N) played with his lighter, flickering it on and off as an amused smile tugged at his lips. He pretended not to listen, headphones in but music low.

"I hope we can stay friends cause he's the chillest guy I know." He finally brought the lighter up to his cigarette, lighting it and flicking it off.

"He was kind of.. Controlling in a way? Not possessive or toxic. You know how chicks get when they think you're cheating? Like that." (Y/N) almost snorted but held it back. He pulled the cigarette away from his lips and stood up from the bench, passing by the guys without a glance.

Yeah, I heard you said I ain't the type for you

I don't regret it though, I learned from it

They should have you locked up for all the time you stole from us (Woo)

Took you out when I had no money

Only person that you ever cared about was you, that's why it's so funny

(Y/N) didn't have much of reaction when news spread of his and Chuck's breakup. He found it a bit amusing. Chuck tried to make people feel bad for him but at the same time make (Y/N) look good as well. Maybe from guilt or to keep (Y/N) as a just in case. He knew there was good inside of Chuck but he didn't expect much from the relationship. He tried to make it work but you can only try so much before giving up. The only thing (Y/N) really regretted was the time wasted on an empty relationship.

You want somebody that'll keep you warm at night

Then, tell me, why you actin' cold to me?

You ain't the only one to blame, no, I'm the one that made you rich

When I bought every lie you sold to me

Yeah, heard you threw away the pictures

But you still got the memories of us

So I guess I don't really make a difference

After the playbook, nobody really wanted to be friends with Chuck. So, when (Y/N) showed slight interest, Chuck pounced at it. Though, it seemed to have been a waste of time since he deleted all their pictures off social media. (Y/N) knew there was a romance, a spark, between Josie and Chuck. But Chuck assured (Y/N) that they were just friends. (Y/N) tried to believe him but at the end, he knew it was a lie.

Flippin' through 'em in your head

Got you texting me all hours of the night

Yeah, you told me that you needed distance

What's the deal with you?

You say you want a man that keeps it real

Then why you mad when I get real with you?

You want someone to pay the bills for you

Went from feelin' you, now I feel for you, liar

(Y/N) had to put his phone on mute thanks to Chuck. If he didn't, he'd be up all night hearing the nofications from Chuck and his texts. Crazy how Chuck wanted distance yet he was the one trying to stay close. (Y/N) had started to like Chuck, mostly going out with him out of pity, but that changed a few months into the relationship. People had started warming up to him again and (Y/N) quickly realized that he was just a tool to get on everyone's good side again. It was annoying.

I heard you told your friends that I'm just not your type

If that's how you really feel, then why'd you call last night?

You say all I ever do is just control your life

But how you gonna lie like that, how you gonna lie like that?

"Hey, (N/N), how's everything going?" Betty asked, nimbling on her bottom lip as she watched him. He furrowed his brows.

"Good, why wouldn't it be?" He questioned.

"Because of the breakup?" It was Betty's turn to be confused. (Y/N) blinked and nodded.

"Oh, right, yeah." He nodded, giving a sheepish smile. "I've got a lot on my mind. I'm actually sketching out a new idea." Betty smiled.

"Really? That's good. At least you've got your mind off Chuck."

"I've been through breakups before, Elle Woods. Chuck is the last thing on my mind, but thanks for worrying. Honestly... He's not really my type."

Look, let me guess, you want to stay friends?

Tellin' people that's how we been?

Tellin' everybody, yeah, that we was barely speakin'

Ah, that's kinda funny, why'd you call me every day then?

It's immaturity, you goin' off the deep end

"I'm glad you and Chuck are still friends."

"Friends?" (Y/N) repeated Ginger's words. "We don't talk. At all." That was kind of a lie. Chuck called and texted everyday but (Y/N) barely replied. (Y/N) shook his head, sighing. He spotted the jock and sent him a text, straying away from his friends. Chuck jogged over, flashing his charming smile.

"What's up?"

"First of all, can you not blow up my phone? Second of all, quit lying. We don't talk and we aren't friends." Chuck frowned at his words.

"What are we?"

"Acquaintances? Exes? Strangers? Take your pick but this isn't friendship." (Y/N) rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

You just want somebody you can chill and get some drinks with, cool

Then don't hit me on the weekend

Tellin' me you missed the way we talked and how I listen, yeah

Why you playin' with my mind, huh?

Why you playin' with my time, huh?

"Listen, (N/N), why don't we talk about this at Pop's? Like we used to. I wanna be friends with you again."

"No, Chuck. I'm tired of.. Of you." (Y/N) confessed. "You got brownie points from everyone, congrats, but can you leave me alone now? I know I sound like a dick but you're wasting my time. Either be my ex or be a stranger, I don't care which. Go find Josie or Moose to keep you company."

"No, baby-" (Y/N) rolled his eyes again at the pet name. "We aren't together anymore, you can stop pretending to like me, Chuck."

Told me, "We should let it go and put it all behind us"

That's what I did, now you askin' me what I done, I was

Waitin' for this day, I saw it comin'

I think you just like attention, tryna tell me all your problems

I got issues of my own, I ain't got time for all this drama

You told me that you don't really wanna talk—then why you callin', huh?

"Let's put the past behind us-"

"I did but it seems like you can't." (Y/N) took out his cigarette pack, glancing at a disapproving Chuck.

"I'm just trying to fit in again, (N/N). I haven't figured out what I want in school yet." Chuck watched as (Y/N) raised the rolled up blunt to his lips.

"You have problems, I have problems, we should just fix them on our own with different people, Chuck." (Y/N) said, glad school had been long over or else he would've definitely been caught and suspended.

"Fine, if you don't wanna talk, we won't talk."

"Good, don't call or text me about anything other than school, aight?" (Y/N) spun around on his heel and went back to Ginger and Tina.

I heard you told your friends that I'm just not your type

If that's how you really feel, then why'd you call last night?

You say all I ever do is just control your life

But how you gonna lie like that, how you gonna lie like that?

(Y/N) grinned, shaking the spray can as he stared up at his finished masterpiece. He was glad Keller let him do art around the town as long as it wasn't offensive. (Y/N) took out a cigarette and lighter, trying to light it but he had run out of fuel. He huffed and pouted until a muscular arm moved around him and lit the cigarette.

"Thanks." He mumbled, looking at the curly haired male.

"You did that?" He asked, taking a seat beside the older teen. (Y/N) nodded.

"It's dope, shit looks professional." (Y/N) chuckled, eyeing the man.

"Yeah, I got inspired by an 'ex', I guess." He looked back at the art on the wall.

"You go to that high school nearby, right?" The man questioned, motioning to the Riverdale sticker on his bag. (Y/N) nodded. The man hummed.

"I suppose that shithole has some talented kids, the rest are nosy fuckers."

"You've hit the nail on the head, my friend." (Y/N) grinned, tossing the spray can off to the side.

How you gonna lie, how you gonna lie like that?

Baby, how you gonna lie, how you gonna lie like that?

How you gonna lie, baby, how you gonna lie like that?

No, no, how you gonna lie like that?

"Back onto this 'ex' of yours, what's the story?"

"He got into a bit of trouble with the school, everyone hated him for a while so he got with me to earn brownie points and then broke up with me. He's an annoying little shit though." (Y/N) told him, shrugging lightly.

"Those types are the worst. Bring out the worst in you." The man said, leaning against the wall. (Y/N) looked at him, admiring his handsome features.

"You don't look like someone from the Northside. So, what brings you here?"

"Wanted to wreck havoc but got caught up with the artistic babe." He replied smoothly. (Y/N) smiled, shaking his head.

"You've got fuckboy written all over you." (Y/N) cooed, ignoring the buzzing of his phone. "Plus, I don't even know your name, sir."

I heard you told your friends that I'm just not your type

(Baby, how you gonna lie like that? No, no)

If that's how you really feel, then why'd you call last night?

(Tell me how you 'bout to lie like that)

You say all I ever do is just control your life

(No, no, no)

But how you gonna lie like that, how you gonna lie like that?

(Oh, yeah)

"Malachai, and yours?"

"(Y/N)." (Y/N) replied, taking out his phone and seeing the texts from chuck. He rolled his eyes, muting his contact before putting his phone away.

"Will I see you again, Malachai?" (Y/N) asked with a grin. Malachai nodded, eyes looking him over again.

"Definitely." He purred in return, sending him a wink before walking to his car.

Tell me how you 'bout to lie like that

Tell me how you 'bout to lie like—

Yeah, yeah, hey