#if i may add to this: get a bitchy boyfriend

[honey-flustered]

Can I pls request a dom eddie munson x bratty reader

“Come Again?”

(18+ MDNI)

A/N: This was fun!! I may have gotten a little carried away lol 😅 Hope you liked it and thank you for the request ❤️

Summary: You feel the need to act out if it means getting your boyfriend to finally do something about your behavior.

Word Count: 3.8k+

Warnings: smut, graphic language, belt used as leash and cuffs, use of “master” and “sir”, use of “princess”, humiliation/degradation kink, sex toys (vibrating sex saddle, dildo, gag), reader is used as a footrest for a moment, male masturbation, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating, dacryphilia, corruption/innocence kink, sadistic!mean!eddie, bitchy!reader, kissing/french kissing, overstimulation, delayed orgasm, rough handling, hair pulling, eddie speaks to reader’s dad over the phone during sexual act, some aftercare

You’ve been called all the names in the book: goody-goody, Saint Mary, teacher’s pet. To sum it up, you’re a good girl. Never one to talk back or disobey rules. You had this kind of innocence about you that naturally people would want to protect. From your friends cautiously tiptoeing around topics about raunchy sex to your boyfriend handling you as if your made of glass…you’ve had enough!

You craved the moments where you get to put your foot down. Where you got to say ‘no’ without offending anyone. Where you got to curse, fuck, and live without the care to ruin your prettily perfect reputation.

Dating Eddie, you were sure that the image of you would shift. The good girl gone bad. You anticipated the moments he’d show you new things. The kind of things that would make father’s question their daughter’s taste in men. But no. He’s a gentleman. Even your father approved of him!

And despite the constant looks and whispers you’d get whenever people saw you two holding hands, they’d know that even he didn’t have the guts to corrupt you.

It must’ve been some reason he’d been drawn to your innocence. It had to. Because if not, then why you? He could have any girl that would have appreciated his same interests. Yet, he chose you when you were all the things he’s against. Popular, perfect, prudish and punctual. Mini skirts and magazines. Teddy Bears and Tiaras. It must’ve been something in you that he wished to defile and ravish.

It’s not like he wasn’t capable of doing such things. You’ve heard the stories about Eddie “The Freak” Munson. About what a sex god he is or how twisted he can be in bed. And it certainly wasn’t lost you the way his jaw clenches whenever you’d bend over in front of him. Or how he’d occupy his hands by fondling with the band of his watch just to keep himself from going far with you.

Tonight, this will change. You planned on raising your stick in a newfound confidence to poke at the beast that hibernated within him. No regrets. No holding back.

Earlier, Eddie passed you a note during Biology, letting you know that he had the place to himself. You rolled your eyes knowing that it was probably going to be another tame movie night. Nonetheless, you accepted his invitation with a motive in mind.

———

“I’m thinking Sixteen Candles or The Princess Bride,” He says holding up the two vhs tapes. “Personally, I’m thinking the Princess Bride because I love a good adventure.”

“Oh, really?” You say in feigned excitement before mumbling to yourself. “You could’ve had me fooled.”

“We’ll go with the Sixteen Candles. I think it’s up your alley.” Eddie goes for the vcr when you lay a hand on his shoulder, halting him. He sinks back down on the couch, eyes on you.

“I wanna watch something scary,” You bat your eyes. “Can we?”

“You sure you can handle it?” He asks, putting a hand to your knee.

You nearly scoffed aloud but instead you keep up your flirtatious nature. “Pleaseee. I can handle it.” You add in a lip bite and you catch his eye flicker down at your lips then back in your eyes.

“Okay.” He whispers, eyes foggy and voice dazed as if catch by your spell. “We could watch Halloween.”

You smiled. “Sounds good.”

Once he’d put in the tape in the vcr, he settles back beside you. A small gap between you. You weren’t exactly paying attention only focusing on the scarier parts as an excuse to nuzzle closer and closer towards him. You were sure he could feel your hardening nipples through your thinly woven top, grazing against his shoulder.

Then, you hear it. That heavy breathing. Unmistakably, you knew he was now riled up. No doubt that he’s getting harder and harder.

“Eddie…” You whispered in his ear, taking his attention away from the movie.

He swallows hard. “Uh-huh.”

You lean in for a kiss. He’s stiff at first but eventually kissing you back, slipping his tongue in your mouth. You’d broken one seal. You and Eddie have never frenched before. Why hadn’t you thought of this sooner? God, he’s so amazing at it. His thick tongue was freakishly long, winning the battle for dominance. The appendage flickers, licking at your tongue before shoving it once more in your mouth. He cups your face in the process of deepening the kiss. Your hands searching for his, placing one over a breast.

He lurches himself away, the connection of saliva between you breaking. You’re left baffled by the action.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, nervously. “I got carried away.”

You seethe. You wanted to throw a tantrum, to curse him into next week, to break things. Instead, you let your true nature surface.

“Frankly, I just think you’re much too much of a pussy to do anything, anyways.” You say, crossing your arms and turning away from him.

You can tell you’d surprised him the language you used. You sounded pretty mean, too. Something he wasn’t used to with you.

“Come again?” He asks, confused yet still just as surprised.

“Nevermind,” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m wanna go home. Take me home.”

You grab your purse, hurriedly standing up from your seat. “He’ll think again for wasting my time?” You thought to yourself.

Just as you grab the door open, Eddie slams a hand on the frame, closing it shut again. You yank at the knob then turn to face him again.

“Let me go.” You demand.

“I don’t think you heard me, princess,” His voice a dark tone, you weren’t familiar with. You were both turned on and frightened. “I want you to say it to me again.”

“Why should I? It’s not like you’ll do anything about it. I hear the things they’ve said about you around school. Rumors are just rumors I guess because you’re vanilla as. fuck.” You punctuated by pulling yourself up from the door frame to look defiantly in his eyes.

His pupils dart side to side, scanning your face. A stoic frown slowly creeping into a large smile then into a wicked laugh. “Where the fuck is this coming from?”

Your nose scrunches up in the kind of anger that takes up every muscle in face to form an expression. He places a finger under your chin, tilting your head up some more.

“My good girl still there?” He asks with a mocking smile.

“Take. Me. Home.” But that was the furthest thing you wanted him to do. You wanted to provoke him further. You were almost there.

“Why should I…” He trails the finger down your neck. “…when you were so eager to stay?”

“What exactly will you do with me then? Because you sure as hell wouldn’t touch me. You’d probably just stare at me. I’m no different than a piece of furniture to you except at least they’ve gotten more action.”

“So I’m the bad guy for wanting to take things slow with you? Because I wanted to spare you from that side of me? Do you have any idea how much I’ve restrained myself from taking you in all the ways I’ve imagined?”

“I never asked you to do that. You may think of me as some second coming of Virgin Mary but I’ll have you know I have plenty of experience. I thought having you as my boyfriend would teach me some new things. Guess it’s actually me that has to do the teaching.”

Eddie finds you awfully amusing like this. He can’t help it but to laugh, shaking his head at you. “I wonder what your friends would think if they heard you speaking this way. Oh, I’d pay to see the reaction of father dearest hearing his daughter begging to be fucked.”

“I don’t care what they think.”

“I think you do,” He sighs, slipping the belt around the loops of his jeans in one fluid motion. “If you want me to let out my true desires for you…I will. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Strip.”

“I don’t want to.” You were really playing into the role. It was almost natural to you.

“I don’t give a fuck what you want,” He growls. “Strip. Now.”

You felt a shiver go down your spine. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you in any way you wouldn’t like, but the bass in his voice was enough to make you obey.

With your eyes never once leaving his face, chest rising and falling, you strip off your clothing slowly. He makes it his mission to follow where ever your hands would go, licking his lips as if a predator to its prey.

When you got to your panties, Eddie reaches for your hand, stopping your actions. He slides your hand between your legs, guiding you to move them to the side. With his hands over yours, he guides two fingers inside you. You gasp. He’s using your hand as if a puppet, pumping your fingers into you until he carefully retreats them and raises them in the air to study.

Just as he thought: you were glistening wet.

“We haven’t even begun yet, princess. You really that wet, already?” He asks, voice strained with lust.

Your attempts to protest falls on deaf ears, when he takes your fingers and slips them into his mouth, swirling his tongue expertly around then suckles on them.

“Mmm.” He moans, eyes closed to savor your taste.

The vibrations went straight to your core causing you to flood your panties some more. You shudder which brings his attention back to you.

He smiles, letting go of your hand. “You’re so pathetic. You gonna cum, baby?”

“Fuck you.” You bite.

“Thanks for offering. But I don’t think you deserve it tonight, let alone letting you cum.”

“Then, why the fuck am I here?”

“Turn around and I’ll tell you.” Eddie says, doing a “spinny” move with his finger.

“I’m not sure I trust turning my back on you.”

“Smart girl,” He comments. “But you’re in my territory now. You do as I say. That means no more back talk unless you want to be left on the brink of an unreachable orgasm for a week.”

He wasn’t kidding either. You’ve heard the legends of girls who’ve been punished this way by him. To this day, they aren’t the same.

“Fine.” You grumble, facing your back to him.

You waited a moment for him to do something, the anticipation killing you. His hands clasp your shoulders finally and it makes you jump. You talked a big game only to be this jittery around him. You mentally cursed yourself.

His large hands slide down your arm until he’s reached your wrists, bringing them behind you. With the belt in hand, he ties it around your wrists, tight enough for you to struggle all you want but loosening was not an option.

Eddie’s lips brush your ear. “Get on your knees.”

You lower yourself, clumsily. He walks around you so that he’s looking down at your eyes again. “I’ll be right back with some gifts. Don’t go anywhere, okay.” He smiles, mockingly then jogs to his room.

Not long after he returns with a prettily wrapped pink box, sets it down in front of you. “Open your gift.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” You say, turning your body a little to remind him of your tied hands.

“With that mouth of yours, silly,” He crouches down beside you. “Tear it with your teeth.”

Of course, you listen. You didn’t even think humiliation would be something you’re into but here you were throbbing with need. Leaning over the box, you hover your mouth over it, sinking your teeth in and ripping at the paper.

He looks you up and down, every now and then a sadistic smile plasters on his face. “That’s the good girl I know,” He pets your head. “You listen well when you wish to be filled.”

Once you’d gotten most of the wrapping out the way, he takes over. Removing the lid from the box, you spot some strange items that forces you to look visibly lost before him.

“What’s wrong? Not familiar? No worries I knew the guys you messed with wouldn’t no anything about this. I’ll show you all that I know since you’re so desperate for it,” He holds up a ball gag. “These are all items I’ve purchased for my collection of all the things I’d use on you. I was gonna save it for our 6 month’s anniversary but you had to be greedy. This…is a gag. Exactly what you need to shut the fuck up.”

“You couldn’t pay me to wear it.”

“Good thing, I’m not paying you,” He retorts, then hold up a bigger item. It was in all black, a remote control beside it. Now that’s caught your attention. “This is a vibrator saddle. You straddle it and ride off to the sunset except that won’t happen until I say you can. It even comes with an additional gift you can add onto it.”

He holds up an attachable dildo in hand. “You can ride this while the vibrating pad work it’s attention on your clit.”

“You’re going to use that on me?”

“Yep, everything in here,” He says, proudly. “Now what was that thing you said about being like furniture? That was gold, baby. I think it was so good, in fact, I might actually take you up on it. You’re gonna be my footrest while I watch the rest of this movie.”

“What?! But what happened to the sex stuff and using those things on me.”

“That’s the fun part. That’ll be happening at the same time,” Eddie arranges the sex items a certain way the tall saddle machine at the foot of the couch. He is tries to put the gag over your mouth. You turn your head to one side. He exhales deeply before gripping your hair to keep your head in place then shoving the ball in your mouth. Tying the gag in place, he places a kiss on your lips. “You’re looking good already, princess. Come on, let’s get you to your place.”

He sits on the couch waiting for you to shift towards him, you don’t move. No way are you giving up your role in this so soon. You slide your arms from under you then over with them now tied in the front. You attempt to yank the gag off your mouth.

He rolls his eyes. “You really want me angry.”

Oh, yes please!

“Alright, you’re asking for it,” He lifts off the couch, clutching the strip of belt between your cuffed wrists and drags up towards the machine. When he has your legs on either side of the machine, he pulls your lacy panties to the side again and lowers you onto the thick rubber of the dildo which he preparedly lubed up for you.

You were so tight, that only the tip had sunk in. You groan, eyes rolling back.

“Aw, baby, don’t be shy to take it all. If you’re having this much trouble on this, I could only imagine how you’d react on my cock.”

He pushes you down on your shoulders, feeding you more of its inches. “There ya go,” Eddie praises. “You’re taking it so well.”

You whined against the gag, begging for something your weren’t sure you needed.

“Sorry can’t hear you. Besides, furniture shouldn’t speak,” He lays you flat on your stomach, your elbows and hands resting on the carpeted floor. “If you want this to stop at anytime. Tap your hands on the floor 3 times and that’ll be the end. For now I’m gonna finish the movie. No talking and stay still unless it’s an emergency.”

He soothes your hair once more planting a kiss on your forehead before taking his seat. Then you felt the weight of his feet on you. You didn’t think it so bad.

Until…the vibrations began. The buzzing shot straight to your core, jolting you by surprise. You moan.

Eddie looks down at you. “You remember my rules, don’t you?”

You nod at him, fixing yourself in place and making the dildo hit deeper within you. Eddie was distracted, to say the least. He was only pretending to watch the movie, too, more enamored in the way your tight little pussy swallowed the object.

He raises the level of vibration causing you to whimper around the gag back to back, rocking back and forth on the rubber length. He entertains you for a bit pressing his boot down on your bottom so you’d feel the vibrations harder. You cry out, grinding harder.

“You make a terrible footrest, princess,” He says, guiding the motions of your hips with his foot. “I bet you’re ready to apologize for your bratty behavior tonight. Ready to apologize so you can cum now?”

He turns of the machine, then lowers the gag from your sweaty face. You mascara was now running, you weren’t aware of your tears flowing.

“What do you say? Wanna apologize?”

You pant. “Is that all you got?”

The utter astonishment on his face was enough to boost your confidence for the next couple years ahead.

“I am really going to enjoy ruining you.” He slides the gag back into your mouth. Only this time, he doesn’t sit back in his seat. Eddie cranks up the machine to another level watching you shift and sob. Your hips involuntarily circled and you worried that if you continued you’d come soon and a greater punishment would be in store.

He just stares intensely at you. You, back at him with your hair falling over his face. When you glanced down for a moment, you see that he was hard than a rock. He’s straining in his jeans practically tearing through them. He catches your glance and you shoot him a knowingly teasing look.

The house phone rings interrupting your stares. You expected him to stop the machine but he only cranks it even higher.

“Oh my god, does it end?” You thought, rolling your eyes back at the sensation.

“You be quiet now, ‘kay. It’ll be very rude if you make distracting noises while I’m on the phone,” He answers the call and your heart beat sped at exactly who was on the phone. “Hello, Mr, Y/L/N. Good to hear from you, too, sir.”

You try stifling your cries as he continues to carry on a formal conversation with your father while you’re seconds from release. Eddie crouches to you again the phone close enough in case you let out even the slightest whimper, your father would for sure hear.

“Oh, Y/n? She’s doing juuust fine,” Eddie smiles. “Sure you can talk to her.”

Your eyes widened, shaking your head at him in a panic. He holds the phone away, whispering in your ear. “Do it and I’ll have mercy on you.”

That was good enough for you. You needed to cum bad or you might just explode. He lowers the gag to your face holding the phone to you. You mustered up all the energy you can to play up your ‘good girl’ persona.

“Uh-huh,” You strained. “Yes, I’ll be home at 10 on the dot. Love you, Daddyy.” You hoped he didn’t catch you nearly moan the last part. All thanks to Eddie cranking the vibrations at the highest level.

After hanging up the call, before you could moan out, Eddie slams his lips onto yours. He’s allowing himself to indulge in you, sitting you upright as he leans into you.

He breaks the kiss, turning you by your waist so that your body’s facing the couch. He sits on the edge of the couch in front of you, removing the belt from your wrists and loops it around your neck instead like a leash. Unbuttoning his jeans and pulling a massively impressive cock from his boxers, he gets to work and jerks himself at the sight of you with one hand while the other hand held the makeshift leash.

“Go on and ride it, princess. I know you’ve been wanting to cum so bad.” He groans.

You wait not a second longer, pushing your panties to the side far enough for him to see the dildo engulfed by your plump lips and suctioning walls.

“Oh, fuck, yess.” You cry out.

Each time you’d sink down, Eddie would prematurely pull you up again by the leash. You whine.

“Thank me for being merciful.” He commands.

“Thank you for your mercy, Master.” You sob, bouncing harder and faster and rubbing frantically.

“This what you’ve been looking for, princess. To be treated like my little plaything.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Want you to cum with me. Please.”

He tugs at the leash, bringing you forward only a quarter of the length inside you now. “Suck me off. I’ll be cumming down that little throat yours.”

You eagerly take him in your hands, he looked even larger from this angle. Suckling the head and tasting his essence was enough to make you addicted. You bobbed your mouth over his curved member, taking him deeper and deeper. It just wasn’t enough for Eddie. So with a little help from him, he began to use your mouth for his own pleasure, grunting with every thrust.

Each push and pull of your head forcing you to slam back against the dildo and with a couple more circles of your clit, the tension that wound so tight around had finally snapped. You release with a loud cry, wetting whatever’s in your path beneath you.

“Shit, baby. You’re so fuckin…sexy.” He punctuates with a couple strokes into the back of your throat.

This turn Eddie on enough for him to follow after you, shooting his warm liquid down your throat and forcing it down for you to take it all. You wouldn’t allow not a drop to be wasted. Bobbing back and forth to match the rhythm of your hips until you were both passed the point of sensitivity.

He pulls you off him, lowering himself for another kiss and tasting his salty essence on your tongue. You were left panting and fucked out by the end of the session. Eddie lifts you in his arms and carries you to his room.

He comes back to you with a warm towel, removing your sopping panties to careful clean you. He’ll be keeping those for his own enjoyment in the days you aren’t here. He helps you into some of his clothes for the night. You snuggle into his bed, wrapping his comforter around you.

“You okay, baby?”

“Mmhm.” Was all you could manage to say through half-lidded eyes.

“I’m gonna clean up that mess you made out there, He chuckles. “Maybe then I could take you home?”

“No, wanna stay here.” You mumble.

“Your dad’s not gonna like that.”

But you were already sound asleep, nuzzling next to his side. He laughs, placing a kiss on your forehead.

Maybe he was corrupting you after all. But Eddie does have your disobedience to thank. After all it was just the push he needed to creatively express the new ways for which he plans to ruin you.

[dailycaligura]

do you have some headcanons for caligura’s and domek’s dynamic? it’s a very interesting pairing!!

Hey hello, ok first of all, sorry if that sounds bitchy or whatever, but they not a pairing, they’re friends!!😭😭

Sorry if you mean it in like overall them being duo, just wanted to clarify things. I always write about them like brotp, where all that come from…I once posted on main in bunch of sketches one joke that may view them in that way but that was joke lol. Okay whatever, that’s the internet, if someone wants to see them that way there nothing I can do, that my fault solely anyways, I decided to post art with them after all, eh.

And now to the question - YES I do!! And quite a lot, but I don’t want to turn this answer to an essay, so just gonna write the basis.

First of all, where the fuck do I even get the idea? And no it’s not just because they both my favorite characters and I decided to think about their dynamic, it’s more connected to canon. So basically I just saw that Marina’s monologue about how much of a dick Domek was and I just immediately thought about how much that sounds like Caligura, like daaamn. Here’s the dialogue itself:

If Caligura wouldn’t be like that it will be absolutely fucking disappointing and awful, Miro do him justice I beg you.

So yeah it pretty much started my idea of them being besties, they work just as two absolute despicable human being getting along because of how cruel and amoral they are, but of course I have more rooted in headcanons thing where they have muuuch more parallels. Btw I have no idea how to do that read more thing so yeah, that shit will be long sorry. So here’s my ton shit of headcanons hope you enjoy it or at least don’t die from cringe ((:

At the time I get the idea of they’re dynamic I already had full Caligura backstory in head, so when I was doing the Domek’s one I just parallel some things and add the priest part, so they’re childhood are pretty much similar, even though it was in absolute different decorations. They both from absolute unloving families, they’re fathers only saw them as someone to do the purpose of his own/family doing, they only care to make them much needed image, no more no less. But they’re mothers was awful by different reasons, Caligura’s one was really young when she had him, only 18 or 19, and before that she was always just sitting home lying in bed because of some chronic disease, she never had normal socialization, friends and of course boyfriends, so relationships with Caligura’s father was obviously not really pleasing to her. Also she was absolutely annoyed by that his fixation of making that little brat some sort of perfection that he was always seeking, so just like a spoiled child she was ruining his doings as much as she can, it ended up in Caligura becoming hysterical crybaby with awfully shattered psychic, but then things happened, they became practically homeless and after dad killed mom and he killed dad he ended up in orphanage yeah. Domek at other hand have pretty mature mom, but she really hated the fact that she been married into that God forsaken family of fucked up fanatics, she had none ties with his father and obviously he was most of the time in church anyways, so from all that unfair and depressing situation she started drinking and became pretty much alcoholic. So basically most of the time she just been drinking and hating on homeschooled son, she despised him just by the fact he’s from that family, but when the alcoholic evaporated she starts to feel lonely and starts to hate on son that he’s not love her enough, that’s all lasted until his twenty’s, then he finally changes the generation officially by killing dad and mom, even though to kill her was pretty heartbreaking because somehow he still loved her lol. Pretty much as Caligura, he preferred to remember his mom as someone who actually cared about him and not as she really was(she hugged him when she felt lonely and didn’t have his dad by hand, guess that at least something).

So yeah basically they both have really fucked up mommy issues, that already pretty uniting haha. Well about they’re later life there not that much to write, thank God, they both was pretty much not choosing what to do, Domek had the dynasty thing and Caligura never goes even to school and didn’t have any home after turning 18 and going out of orphanage, the only choice to him, at least he saw it as only one, was going into criminal world, of corse they both have a way to run away from seemingly the only available path, but they just decided that “Nah, I can handle this”(spoiler they not, at least not entirely). So basically years after years they became who they are in Termina timeline, fucked up aggressive bastards that’s being hated or frightened by others, no more no less. And now I’m finally ending with backstory’s and going to the dynamic itself, fucking finally, but that info dump was important to understanding I’m telling ya!!

First of all, no matter who I write I always remember one thing - no matter how much of a bastard that character he still is a human being with emotions, frights and weaknesses, except the characters that, well, not humans by the definition haha. And in these guys case this is pretty much main thing, the seem absolutely unapproachable, cold and distant, deprived of any positive emotions and even kinds feels like psychopaths, it looks like they just isn’t able to inner self reflect, minutes of weakness and just being down, but, unfortunately to them, they’re not. Most of the time they being alone so they have a plenty of time to be that pathetic bastards that they are without any eyes to see it, but they also have that shit that turned out a feature to them that called having problem to express they emotions, it really helpful in they’re work! Every Caligura emotion is coloured with rage in some degree, even if it’s positive one or just pure sadness, he expresses everything with aggression, noise and all that shit, while Domek, thanks to always bothering him mother, usually ignores everything and being completely lost in his own thoughts, but if there anything worth to emote about he will also colour it with aggression. Btw it also worth mention that of cites they still can be just calm, it’s just about them usually having only range between calm state and absolute fucking rage. Now about self reflection, they are are pretty much able to do it, but it only adds to the problem, Domek prefers to see himself as the main victim of everything and ignores anyone other problems, so he just drowned in the ocean of self pity and depression, while Caligura prefers to just not think by spending time with alcohol, drugs, noisy surroundings and some whores of course, enything in order to not stay alone with his own thoughts, but even he need some break from all of these, at least for the health sake God damn it, and these times it became really sad. In short just how always that everyone and everything hatred and despise coming from deep rooted self hatred, what else here to do if you understand how pathetic and awful you are, but there no way to change it, or even if there it’s just too dangerous to take and they have things to lose at the point. But of course they’re self hatred not based on them understanding how bad they are by common human morales, of course not, they have image of themselves in their heads and they really struggle to meet that image, mostly because of not being completely unemotional, they still have things that they can’t do because of that and they reaaally hate it. So yeah they have a lot in common, and thanks to that they are able to connect with each other, they have enough experience of perception what other people are without having too much of talking with the person in question, so they can feel that they understanding each other without that much of a talking itself, which they really hate. They prefer to ignore most of they’re feelings that is not suits they’re image of themselves, and also they really arrogant fuckers so yeah all that talking about feelings really not they’re style.

Ugh damn I’m again mostly write just the parallels of them and not really their dynamic, sorry I’m really easy to go other direction when writing such things (‘:, anyways now REALLY to their fucking dynamic. In short I’d describe it with the minus on munis gives plus, they both inhumane bastards that with the help of each other able to find that little pieces of humanity they have. They don’t care about others, don’t empathize them in any ways, just see everyone as tools to reach they’re goal and don’t give a single fuck about price of human life, they’re awfully egocentric, sees they own opinions as only the right one, they goals much worthy above others and etc etc…but they making exceptions for each other in that. They have a lot things they’re thoughts are matches on, and just as much where they disagree witch each other, but instead of aggressively proves they own point they’re able to listen to each other and maybe even accept the other thought, of course the chance of them changing they own mind is critically low, but just the fact they can tolerate each other opinions is really a lot.

But they will never openly show that they actually value each other, they both have some authority and power after all, and also have a lot of trust issues, emotions issues and all that shit, so just accept and express how they feel about each other feels to them like something absolutely inappropriate, it’s just can’t happen. Of course in the context of festival they can be more okay with that since they not really someone in power anymore lol, but if thinking about them in the context of how things usually goes they’d have some more professional like tone, usually having discussions about everything for hours, drinking some wine and maybe playing chess, rarely going to the personal things and even if they are then they or drunk as fuck or hints that the other might help with the issue. I mean mafia here have ties with church and since Prehevil looks like separate and independent diocese from Vatican there might be a chance that they would want someone from mafia to have some talking done with the Prehevillian church, they might be pretty closed community but still they doing religion work wrong so yeah(btw is anyone ever think how politically funny that the child of active head of Prehevil church, that is independent community pursing they own way of priesthood, having an invitation from the fucking Ministry of Darkness itself to continue occult studies in the Vatican? It’s like Catholics will send their child to Protestant or Orthodox Sunday school, what the fuck dude? Maybe I don’t understand the things correctly but that kinda looks like that lol). At this example Caligura might talk to the church heads of Vatican to recommend some things in the favor of Domek, while Domek can lend some of his priests to help Caligura in the business with magic shit, so yeah their friendship is pretty useful to each other on the professional level, but the fact they also genuinely goes along on the personal level makes their relationships even better and stronger.

But that about them knowing each other for the pretty short time span, on year or two after they’re met they’d go in that state of when they together they became dumb as fuck, Caligura would say some stupid shit to find out, usually about some magic or ritual practices, and Domek without any hesitation and time to think be like yeah let’s find out. Caligura since the first day of their meeting was teasing him and being sarcastic, making fun of him and just genuinely annoying him, Domek just ignoring it or trying to answer taunt with the taunt, but it’s obviously not as good as Caligura’s one, but on that longer time of span he’d master the art of mockery of that fucker and sometimes they’re conversation just turns into taunts exchange, which rarely ends well because at this point they’re able to hurt each others feelings for real lol.

So yeah they’re create pretty much strong and trustful alliance even in short time of knowing each other, and with years after years it becomes only stronger, which is really bad to everyone surrounding them, with having actual friend and some on his side any part of that duo will became even more awful and cruel to others in order to reach they’re goals. But of course they’re friendship is not perfect, there nothing in they’re life that can be that lol, they would be scared of just the fact the can value someone, that they care and might think in the favor of other and not only themselves, I mean heck imagine being absolutely alone and hated for all your life and now bam there’s someone who may like you, what the hell is to do about that!! They’re too old to just risk established things of their behavior in the favor of some chance to have normal human relationships, so yeah they might good work from the start and even trust each other, but it’s more because of seeing similar to they’re behavior in other, which means they can understand what they want from each other, but the actual appreciation would come only if they saw the signs of that from the other, so yeaah things are complex, but I think just a few dialogues about politics, religion, philosophy or whatever and that would be easier to them.

Ok I’ll fucking stop there because it’s already fucking a lot and I barely have time before my classes will start lol. So yeah no doodle for the past day ugh, try to do two today. Also I don’t reread the text before posting because, again, I barely have any free time left, hope there not that much of stupid ass grammatical mistakes, but still sorry in advance.

Thanks for question btw yeah, love writing some long ass posts, even though it’s not that easy since English is not my native language haha.

[pxgeturner]

Stranger Things characters as Monster High characters!

yeah this gets kinda tangent-y in some parts but I think my castings r pretty good ! oh n I forgot robin but if I think of smth I’ll add them. <3

el as frankie stein… el is often alienated in the party, taking on the “hero” role. frankie is also often othered, and returns to a place of insecurity when her uniqueness is shed in negative light; this is despite the fact that both of them continue to save the day with their quirks. el with her telekinetic powers and frankie with her handy dandy detachable limbs. Also they are both the leading ladies so yah.

max as cleo de nile… they are two icons. both of them initially are portrayed as bitchy and cold hearted but as you grow with them you see that they are not just one-dimensional, but a legit smite person who is complex and end up as one of your favorite characters.

dustin as ghoulia yelps… adorable geniuses who aren’t always given enough credit and aren’t really taken serious romantically.

will as abbey bominable… since abbey is a transfer she is unfamiliar with lots of the customs and culture at monster high (alienated like frankie). similarly, will byers spent a formative time and is more childish than his friends. not to say that he is immature, he isn’t. he is just at a different place that his friends and still has some catching up. and he’s doing a damn good job.

lucas as duce gorgan… the cutest most supportive boyfriend a girl could ask for. also casket ball legend. yes he is a bit clueless but he’s a jock, give my bby a break. n yes he breaks up with his girlfriend for a stupid reason. (were lucas n max broken up after s3? Idk it felt like it n s4.)

steve as draculaura… the all around bestie who is constantly trying to fix things for her friends. Or alternatively fix their friends up with someone else (See: clawdeen and laura’s cousin vlad and steve giving dustin romantic advice).

billy as nefera de nile… the older sibling who is hated largely fandom-wide w/potential that was never fully reached. because they never were fleshed out we never got to the point where we are with cleo or max.

nancy as cupid… reporter, radio show host, same diff. They mean well and want the best for their community. However they aren’t taken seriously by done people.

erica as howleen wolf… slightly bratty lil sis who is also a kind of a badass. pffft u prob thought I was gonna lump erica n lucas together as siblings. amateurs.

now u might get mad at me in a sec, here me out 🥺

jonathan as jackson jeckle… cute(ish) nerd who is the sweetest baby, you fall for him for his personality. my favorite of will’s “brother” figures.

mike as holt hyde… the cuter of the “brother” figures for will, but he is also more annoying…. would make out w tho. (after s1, mike went downhill as a character.) he is more beloved but he needs to learn to shut up and listen. we get it you need your music (constant talking n everything going ur way) pls just turn it down. i’m not a mike hate acc, but I feel like the duffers are digging the character’s grave. i like mike but his potential is being wasted.

Eddie as andy beast… kinda reclusive, he is not friends with many but is very attached to those who earn his trust. andy also may or may not have been my imaginary boyfriend from age 8-11 🙈

[lottiebagley]

Pumpkin- Fred Weasley

We're heavy liftin' but we're feelin' fine We think it's funny when we look at the time I know co-dependency has dragged me out But I really don't think that's what this is about

The group of sixth year Gryffindor students sit around under a tree by the black lake waiting for the arrival of their friend. Y/N Malfoy was quite similar to her family in most ways, ambitious, cunning, loyal and scheming, admittedly also a little bitchy with a flare for the dramatic. The difference being important though, she used all of these skills for good. Surrounding herself in a group of Gryffindor's despite being Slytherin simply because they made her laugh, she had never cared over blood or house supremacy and it drove her father mad, her mother to worry constantly and her younger brother to quietly admire her, although he'd be caught dead before saying it.

"Here she is," Lee grins widely watching the girl approach

"You're late," Fred comments, a smirk on his face and teasing lilt to his voice

"Can it Pumpkin,"

"Okay that joke has never and will never be funny," He groans as she drops to the ground next to her friends, fanning her face from the summer heat as she lays in the warmth, her shorts and top showing more skin than her family would approve of.

"Whatever you say Pumpkin," She grins, reaching her hand up to pat Fred's cheek as he leans his back against the tree.

"Why are you late?" Angelina questions, her head in her boyfriends lap. She laughs loudly when the girl says nothing simply smirks.

"Seriously? Again?" Alicia questions, laughter in her voice

"Wait! What don't we know?" Fred pouts dramatically, pushing himself up from the tree. His feelings for the girl glaring brightly. He may as well have a bright flashing sign pointing to him that says he's head over heels for his best friend who doesn't believe in love.

"There's no we. Just you I'm afraid," Lee smirks, Fred's heart sinks a little when he notices his twin brother sympathetic smile.

"Our little golden child-" Angelina starts

"She has never been a golden child," Lee interrupts

"Shut up. Our little golden child has been sleeping with Adrian Pucey," Angelina grins.

Fred feels his heart drop to his feet. Splintering into 1000 pieces.

"Merlin, your parents would approve," he comments, feeling the eyes on him waiting for a response

"They won't need to. It's just casual sex," she shrugs. She isn't sure why she feels such an urgency to make sure Fred knows it's not serious. Sure, he flirts with her but she always kind of assumed it was a joke, so of course it wasn't the guilt making her want to scream at him that she was still single. It wasn't feelings either. There's no point in feelings.

"I wish I could do that," Alicia sighs wistfully, Fred glad the attention is off him "Just have casual sex, flings that mean nothing. I get so attached so quickly," she rambles before turning her head to face her friend, who is eyeing Fred with suspicion, trying to work out if he's just tired or if he's upset.  "How d'you do it?"

"It's simple Li, there's no point in catching feelings. Love is treated like some inevitable thing that happens to everyone but it's not. I won't ever fall in love. Most people don't. Boys are going to hurt you time and time again so there's no point investing your happiness in them. The new relationship glow dies and you end up alone. Embrace the fact you've only got you to count on and life becomes easier," She explains

"How can you know someone isn't going to just come in and sweep you off your feet?" George questions, eyes flickering between the girl talking and his brother who is staring into space almost like he's trying to block out whatever the girl is saying.

"Life just doesn't work like that,"

I wanna give it all, I know I will 'Cause blueberry eyes seem to make time still We can boogie in the sunshine with some Burt's Bees And I know you like to pull the leaves off trees

"Thought love was stupid and pointless and made up," Fred quips, his voice in her ear making her jump in the otherwise empty corridor, taken by surprise at his presence.

"Shit!" she shrieks, hand swatting him away from her "You know most people say hello Pumpkin," she adds

"Hi darling," He grins

"Hi," she responds with a smile, not sure why she's blushing a little

"Back to my point about love,"

"You never actually made it," She retorts, eyes shining in the moonlit corridor

"Are you not on your way back from a secret meeting with one Adrian Pucey?" He questions, beginning to walk in the direction of the Slytherin common room, making sure to slow his steps down a little on regards of her much shorter legs.

"And if I am?"

"You've been spending an awful lot of time with him recently is all," Fred comments. Eyes focused on her as she quiets for a moment thinking.

"He's not the worst person to be around," She shrugs, he hums in response. He isn't sure what to say. He expected her to shoot down his accusation but instead she had admitted to liking Adrian.

"Why are you up so late and lurking near the Slytherin commons?" she questions, expecting an elaborate prank to be explained.

"Someone had to make sure you made it to bed safely," He shrugs, she hopes in the dark he won't see her blush, although he can and it makes his heart skip a beat.

"Pumpkin, anyone would think you care," She teases gently

"I do. In fact I care more about you than anyone else I know," He admits, his sincerity and vulnerability a change to their usual playful tone.

"I feel the same for you," She admits as they come to a stop outside the Slytherin common room.

"You sure do know how to make a guy feel special," He smirks, leaning against the wall next to the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

"I think love is stupid and fake and I don't believe in the whole one true love, soulmate bullshit," She announces, a look in her eyes that Fred has never seen before as she stares up at him.

"I know that," He smiles gently, enjoying the way she's standing a little too close for just friends.

"I'm difficult and tricky and emotionally unavailable and I'm a stupid person to have feelings for,"

"I know that," He smirks widely

"I'm sensitive and if this is all some joke-"

"What's this?" He questions, a cocky grin on his face and an eyebrow raises. She sighs

"This!" She exclaims, gesturing between them "You treating me special and flirting and walking me to all my classes and back to my common room every night and carrying my bag and-" She begins to ramble

"No joke," He assures, hands held up in surrender

"I don't believe in love and I think feelings are stupid,"

"You've mentioned,"

"But, you should know that if anyone were going to change that it would not be Adrian Pucey,"

"Are you saying it would be me, sweetheart?"

"Don't get too cocky pumpkin," She smirks, before turning away from him and slipping into her common room, leaving Fred stood in the corridor with a lovestruck grin on his face.

I used to think that Romeo was full of shit And the Notebook was just my favourite chick flick But now I get why Sarah was so hard to forget It's this feeling that I'm feeling like Nemo in a net

She sits next to Alicia in the Room of Requirement, patiently awaiting the boys as they mingle with the other party goers.  Sipping on their drinks and talking over the loud music.

"Are you staring at Fred?" Alicia questions, eyes following where she's staring off into the distance. Fred is standing with a cup in each hand. One that he regularly raises to his mouth as he laughs with a few Hufflepuff boys. The other that he holds from the top, hand easily large enough to cover the whole top, although he continuously glances down to check there's no opening. He looks good, his height meaning he's a head taller than the other boys, his white shirt slightly too tight meaning his muscles bulge in it.

"Hmm?" She questions, forcing her eyes away from the boy, glad he hadn't caught onto her staring

"Oh my god! You were!" Alicia cheers

"I was?"

"Staring at Fred all gooey eyed and lovestruck. Can't say I'm surprised there's been way too much sexual tension between you two for like ever,"

"I wasn't. I was simply looking at him cause he said he'd bring me another drink and I'm nearly out," She retaliates, Alicia looks at her questioningly for a second, but after glancing at her nearly empty cup seems to believe it. She'd probably have questioned it more if Angelina hadn't arrived, taking the empty seat next to the girl.

"How's Adrian?" Angelina smirks widely from behind her cup

"Uh, I wouldn't know," She admits, adjusting her short black dress a little

"What? You had one of the best looking boys in school for casual, steamy sex and you ended it?" Alicia gasps, looking at the girl in front of her like she's insane

"There was nothing to end," The girls shrugs, taking a chug of her drink, emptying the glass and placing it down.

"Why the fuck would you stop sleeping with him? He's fit," Angelina  pesters, she's saved from having to come up with a lie when Fred arrives in front of the girls, offering the drink he's been protecting with his hand to her.

"Chug that and come dance with me," He demands, she raises her eyebrow at him

"Friends can dance together y'know?" He smirks widely, the line between friends and more seeming to fade and darken back and forth constantly between them.

"To friends then Pumpkin," She smirks, accepting the cup and chugging the alcohol despite the slight burn in her throat.

"M'Lady," He grins, offering a hand that she takes whilst rolling her eyes, allowing him to pull her away from the girls.

"That is why you stop sleeping with a boy as fit as Adrian Pucey," Alicia smirks to Angelina who laughs at the comment.

"Spoilt for choice," Angelina chimes

Pumpkin, pumpkin You're gonna kill me Pumpkin, pumpkin La, la la la la, la Pumpkin, pumpkin I need you to feel me Pumpkin, pumpkin La, la la la la, la

"You know darling, people might think you like me," He whispers into her ear, hot breath sending a small shiver down her spine that makes smirk grow wider.

"People should keep their noses out," She responds, spinning to face him.

Her chest flush to his, her hands finding place on his shoulders as she moves her hips against him. Practically grinding to the music playing through the party.

"I like this dress," He compliments, eyes raking her up and down with dark eyes, hands trailing up and down her body

"Take your hand of my arse Pumpkin," She smirks, although she says nothing else when he doesn't, the warning more a habit than her actually caring

"You brother is watching us," Fred comments, focusing on not letting his eyes drop to the curve of her breasts that are pushed up, practically spilling from the little black dress

"Father will be happy to hear all about this," She smirks, earning a chuckle from Fred

"You not worried about it?" He questions, ignoring the weird need in his chest to place kisses to her neck, wanting more than a little to mark her up.

"I've been disappointing him long enough," She shrugs, one hand dropping from around his shoulder to trail down his chest, unable to stop herself from wanting to feel the toned muscles under the shirt

"Ever the bad girl," He smirks, a feeling of pride in his chest when he notices her eyes darken a little.

"That's low," She comments with a smirk "Besides father knows we are friends and this is a friendly dance," She adds, turning back around to press her back to his chest, rolling her hips to push her arse into him.

"I certainly hope you don't dance with all your friends like this," He smirks, leaning down a little, a tight grip on her hips, dictating the speed of her teasing movements.

"Only my favourites," She grins.

Fred is glad she's not facing him or he's pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from kissing her.

We're cruisin' slowly but we're movin' fast We both decided to thank our past We've got a hundred lists of things we wanna do But I'm also cool just doin' nothin' with you

When Fred had bid her goodbye for the summer his heart and stung a little. He hated not being able to see her over the holidays. He hated that Adrian Pucey would be around all the time due to their families friendship. He hated that although she acted like it didn't her father's constant criticism hurt her.

It was because of the very last reason that when they were in third year George had scribbled their address onto a piece of parchment and given it to her with a smile and a whisper of 'if you need us we would love to see you'.  She'd never used the paper before. Writing to the twins and their friends, and holding out through the summer. She'd kept the paper though, tucked in between an old fairytale book in her bedroom.

Standing at 7:30 in the morning on the doorstep to the burrow, school trunk in tow and eyes sore from crying she wondered if the offer had long since expired.

Molly Weasley knew of her. She knew that the Malfoy's had a daughter and assumed she'd be as stuck up and rude as the best. Then her boys came home after their first term talking with bright smile and enthusiasm of their new friend and she was shocked when over and over again the name Y/N Malfoy was in the stories. By the end of their first year, with their letters and excited chatter she'd grown to know the girl was nothing like her family, instead she was a friend of her twins and by default Molly loved the girl, happy to see her boys happy. By Christmas of third years she realised that George loved the girl like a sister and Fred loved her as a lot more.

Despite all of this she'd never spoken to the girl. The Malfoy's whisking her away from her friends at the train station before she could even say 'goodbye' with cold eyes and snarls. Therefore she was more than surprised to pull the door open and see her with blotchy tear stained skin and silk pj shorts, a sweater she knit herself with a large 'F' on the front almost drowning her.

"Hi deary," Molly smiles gently

"I'm so sorry to intrude-I-it- I couldn't be there any longer. The boys said years ago I could come here if I ever needed and-I- I'm sorry that was years ago and the offer is way past expired- Sorry to bother you, this was stupid. I'll just be going," She rambles, cutting herself off and hiccuping the words out.

"You'll do no such thing. Come in," Molly instructs, pulling the door wider to allow her to come in. She smiles gratefully, grabbing her trunk and tugging it behind her into the house.

She looks around and can't help the small smile. The house is more of a home then any she'd ever been in before. Lived in and warm and bright and she could feel the love radiating through it. It made perfect sense that the twins grew up here.

"Leave your bag by the door. One of the twins can carry it up later. Take a seat while I make breakfast and let's, you and I, have a chat. I'm afraid the twins won't be up for hours," Molly offers. The girl nods, shooting her a smile and sitting down.

"Tea?" Molly questions

"Please," She responds almost timidly, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her jumper trying to dry the dampness. Molly nods, sending the girl a gentle smile and flicking her wand, the pots jumping into action making the tea.

"Now, dear, do you want to talk about it?" Molly asks gently

"No. Sorry. I just need to process," She admits

"It's no worry, you just make sure not to keep it all bottled up. Whenever you are ready we are all here for you, you can stay as long as you like, alright?"

"Thank you Mrs Weasley,"

"Please dear, call me Molly,"

"Molly," The girl nods, taking the tea she is offered with a thanks.

"Now, do your parents know you're here?"

"No, I left late last night. Father and I argued and I went up stairs and packed and just kinda," she trails off

"Left in the middle of the night with no explanation," it's Ginny's voice that speaks from behind her.

"Hey Ginny," The girl grins, jumping up to hug the younger girl who happily returns it. The Weasley kid's all liked her having had her company forced on them by the twins at school.

"Hey, Fred's going to be so happy to see you," Ginny smirks, laughing when the girl blushes, eyes staring down to not look at Molly who is smiling widely.

"You need to let your parents know you are safe," Molly instructs as the two girls sit down.

"They won't care," She shrugs, Molly's motherly glare quickly shot at her "but I'll let them know," She assures

"How'd you even get here?" Ginny questions

"The knight bus,"

By the time the girls have had breakfast and caught up it's 9AM and the both Harry and Ron arrive in the kitchen, greeting the newest addition to the home with a hug and teases of Fred's excitement. By 10AM George has arrived downstairs, elated to see one of his best friends, pulling her into a tight bear hug before ruffling her hair.

George and her are sprawled out in the garden, backs in the grass, both clad in pjs, easy conversation flowing and her feeling 1000 times happier than she did that morning by 11AM

"Merlin, Georgie, we are supposed to be working on puking pastilles and you're lounging about in the garden," Fred's voice shouts, leaning out of his window, to see his twin, not yet seeing the girl who is leaning against the wall, out of his eye line.

"I'm entertaining our guest!" George quips

"Guest? Is this you weird way of saying we have to de-gnome the garden again?"

"No. But we do need to," George responds

"Hey Pumpkin," The girl calls out, shuffling to be next to George and in Fred's eye sight.

Fred's face is overtaken by a wide grin, almost instantly he's out of the window, sprinting down the stairs and hurtling into the garden.

She jogs to meet him, laughing when he lifts her into the air spins her around, her legs wrapping around his waist as she grins down at him.

"Merlin, I missed you,"

"I missed you too. A lot," She admits, hating the way her heart is hammering in her chest.

"What're you doing here?" He asks, concern over taking his features, his hands still gripping her tightly as he holds her up

"I really don't want to talk about it yet," She admits

"But you're okay?"

"I am now," She assures, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek and smirking when he blushes.

"Merlin, it was two weeks not two years," George comments, breaking the moment up now he feels he's given them enough time.

Fred sighs, wishing he'd had the nerve to just kiss her like he so badly wanted to but nervous how she'd react, the though of ruining their friendship striking fear in his heart.

He places her down delicately and insists on giving her a tour of the house, Molly watches with a fond smile at the way her son can't stop grinning all day.

I ran in circles on a Monday night You had to go so you could make your flight I looked at my mom and said, "What do I do?" She said, "This look is somethin' and it's new and true"

"You seem to really like her," Molly pesters, a week and a half into her stay. She's washing the breakfast dishes as Fred dries them. She knows immediately he wants to talk about it, her son only ever helps with house work when he wants his mother's advice and is too shy to ask.

"I do," Fred confirms, watching through the window.

The group were heading to a nearby lake and she's standing in the garden with Ginny, clad in a bikini she'd borrowed from the younger girl and a pair of shorts and carrying a towel. Sunglasses pushing her hair back and laughing at something the younger girl said, the two seemingly closer by the day.

The sight of her in just a bikini had made Fred's heart stop. She had barged into the twin's bedroom in the search for suncream Ginny had leant them and Fred had struggled to put words together as George smirked watching the interaction.

"She likes you too, I can tell," Molly prompts, wondering what the problem was.

"I know, well I kinda figured. She's just complicated. None of us know why but she's an utter cynic. She doesn't believe in love, she doesn't have any interest in dating or marriage or any of that. She has is in her head every guy she lets herself like will end up hurting her," Fred explains

"That kind of thing is normally past hurt,"

"She's never been in a relationship," Fred counters

"Okay, well in that case it's highly likely it's a childhood thing,"

"You mean?"

"Her family is very traditional. She might not have grown up seeing healthy, loving relationships," Molly explains gently

"So, what do I do?"

"You prove you're different. You prove you are worth the risk," Molly explains. Fred nods, setting his tea towel down despite being no where near done with the dishes.

"Thanks mum," He grins, Molly smiles, watching her son head towards the door

"Take a shirt so your shoulders don't burn!" She calls but Fred is out the door before she can finish the sentence.

"Took your time!" Ron calls, standing up from where he, George and Harry had all been sat waiting

"Just cause some of actually help mum," Fred quips, ignoring his brothers as they all begin the 10 minute walk to the lake. George challenging Ron to a race. Ginny talking awkwardly to Harry, her crush evident.

Fred is no better than his younger sister, falling into step next to her.

"Surprised you aren't racing," She comments

"Bored of beating them," he smirks cockily "Besides, talking with a beautiful girl such as yourself is much more fun," He adds, proud when she giggles.

"You're in good shape," She comments, eyes flickering over his body, clad in only swim shorts, his toned chest and muscular arms on full show. She laughs a little when he blushes bright red. "Not so slick now are we Pumpkin?" She smirks

"Pumpkin still isn't funny," He attempts, the bright red flush still on his cheeks doing little to help his case.

He tries desperately to recover on the walk but every time he starts talking she makes a show of looking at him, eyes lingering, something she enjoys greatly, making him blush even more.

The day by the lake passes beautifully. Games of chicken, sunbathing, forcing Ron to go back and pick up sandwiches at lunch time.

It's mid afternoon, Ron and Ginny playing a game of exploding snap on the jetty over the lake, Harry reading 'Quidditch through the ages', George writing a letter to Angelina.

The pair are in the lake, Fred pushing her in when she was sunbathing earlier and jumping in after her. They'd had a race which landed them a distance away from the others.

"You won because I let you," Fred announces

"I won because I took swimming lessons until I was 11 and was on a summer swim team until I was 14," She shrugs

"What else don't I know about you?" He teases

"I speak Latin, I can play the piano and flute, this is the first school break I haven't spent nearly ever waking minute at my ballet studio and I know greek mythology like the back of my hand,"

"Why?"

"Private tutors," She shrugs, he laughs loudly, shocked he knew so little about aspects of her life.  She shivers a little

"You wanna get out?" He questions

"Quite like the water," She shrugs, he nods, opening his arms

"I'm not cuddling you in the water Fred,"

"It's that or hypothermia," He shrugs, she sighs, secretly happy, and allows him to pull her into his hold, resting her head on his shoulder as he subconsciously strokes a hand up and down her back.

"You really are full of surprises," He comments

"As are you, I've been learning an awful lot about you from your parents,"

"If it made me sound uncool it was a lie,"

"You were already uncool to me," She smirks,

"Harsh," He grins, eyes focused on the way she bites her bottom lip as she stares up at him "You look really beautiful," he comments

"So do you pumpkin," She returns.

Neither of them know what's overtaking their system as they lean in slowly, her lips just grazing his when suddenly his shoulder's are pulled down and he's held under water. Ron laughing happily when his brother pushes his way up to the surface a scowl on his face.

"What the fuck, Ron!" Fred shouts

"We need to leave or we'll be late back," The younger boy announces, swimming away before his brother can splash him.

Fred shoots her a sorry smile before they both swim back, climbing the ladder onto the pier. Fred makes sure to wait until Ron's holding his towel and wearing his t-shirt before he shoves him off the pier and back into the lake for ruining the moment.

I used to think that Romeo was full of shit And The Notebook was just my favourite chick flick But now I get why Sarah was so hard to forget It's this feeling that I'm feeling, like Nemo in a net

It's been two weeks since she arrived by the time she is ready to open up about the fight with her parents. It's only her and Fred. They sit cross legged on a sofa, the warm night breeze pushing through the open windows.

The kids had all occupied the living room, watching movies and eating snack but as the night got later one by one they'd all gone up to bed, leaving the pair who had been cuddled up way too close for just friends all night.  

"I told you Ginny had foul choice in films," Fred comments

"I quite enjoyed it," the girl shrugs in response

"You. You who has previously said 'Love is a commercial lie' enjoyed Titanic," He smirks

"I guess maybe I'm starting to accept I could have been a little wrong," She admits, refusing to look at Fred.

It was true, being with Fred all summer had made her realise that the love she felt for him wasn't just some stupid passing thing. She loved Fred Weasley. Loved him to her very core. She thinks a part of why she was finally letting herself feel the admittedly scary emotions was seeing how happy Molly and Arthur were.

"Why do you hate love?" He questions, it was a thought that had been on his mind a lot as of late.

"I guess I just never saw it before," She shrugs

"Aren't your parents married?"

"Yeah but they don't love each other. They were an arranged marriage, father had the prettiest girl and mother married into a fortune. They barely speak unless they are in public. They sleep on opposite sides of the house," She speaks and her voice is void of emotion, Fred isn't sure what to say.

"So you just assumed no one was happily married?" He questions gently, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"No. I knew love was real, it was just that it was easier to not fall in love and it the best way to stop it was to convince myself no one had it," She admits

"Why wouldn't you want to fall in love though?" He prompts, eyes fixed on her as she fiddles with the hem of the large t-shirt she's wearing.

"It would end in heart break. I have to marry whoever my parents pick. If I fall in love when I get married I live my whole life knowing what I could have had. But now, I'm halfway in love and my whole world feels, I don't know how to describe it, brighter I guess, and all that self preservation was meaningless,"

Fred feels his heart break a little. He wasn't sure if it was because she had been dealing with all this for so long or if because deep down he knew he would marry her tomorrow and he didn't doubt for a second that he wanted her forever.

"I'm so sorry," He hums out

"Not your fault. It's what we argued about, they had a suitor coming to stay for the summer. That's why I ran," She admits

"Oh, sweetheart," He sighs, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to him.

"Would be great if you could do something repulsive so I like you less," She jokes, he laughs loudly

"Sorry, darling, but I really don't plan on letting you slip through my fingers and no matter what I'll make sure you don't have to marry some pretentious pure blood," He promises and she feels more at ease than she has in years, she knows Fred has got her, Fred'll stop at nothing to make sure she is happy.

Pumpkin, pumpkin You're gonna kill me Pumpkin, pumpkin La-la-la-la-la-la Pumpkin, pumpkin Need you to feel me Pumpkin, pumpkin La-la-la-la-la-la

"Where are we going?" She questions, eyes squeezed shut as Fred tugs her hand pulling her along behind him.

"My favourite place," he responds, although she had no clue what that meant.

"Well, are we nearly there?"

"Shut up and be patient, jeez woman,"

It's a further three minutes when Fred stops, laughing when she walks right into him, eyes still closed.

"Okay, open," She can hear his smile

She opens her eyes, they're standing in front of a meadow full of wildflowers, the pink sun set making everything glow, a picnic blanket full of goodies that were clearly prepared by Molly in the centre.

"You're right. It's beautiful," She smiles brightly, turning from the view to look up at Fred who is beaming down at her.

"Not as beautiful as you," He grins cheekily

"That was awful," She smirks, his loud laughter ringing out through the meadow. She grabs his hand in hers again, pulling him along to the picnic blanket.

"So, how did you enjoy your summer?" He questions

"We have three days left," She argues

"That excited to go back to school?" He teases

"It's our last year, guess I'm just not ready for it to be over," She explains, he smiles gently

"I get that," He agrees, shooting her a smile "Don't want to fall out of touch with people," He adds. She nods. Extending her hand pointing her pinky finger at him

"I don't make pinky promises if I don't know what they are,"

"That no matter how far apart we end up, you and I are always going to have each other, always going to be friends,"

"Who knew the Slytherin was so sappy," He teases, his finger immediately wrapping around hers and squeezing.

"Tell anyone and I'll kill you," She smirks, Fred chuckles, passing her a chocolate covered strawberry.

"I can catch that in my mouth,"He speaks confidently.

20 minutes and a 30% success rate between the two of them, Fred leaps to his feet pulling her with him.

"Where are we going?"

"We are dancing,"

"There's no music,"

"I can sing if you want," He offers

"I'd rather not go deaf," She smirks, he laughs loudly

"I'm a great singer," He defends, she raises her eyebrows at him,

"Whatever you say pumpkin." she laughs when he rolls his eyes.

"Fine, we don't need music,"

He pulls her into him, arms around her waist as hers wrap around his neck, her head on his shoulder and Fred Weasley could die happy. He has no idea that she could too.

I used to think that Romeo was full of shit But when I look at you, I think this must be it, oh

It's the last night before school starts when she knocks at Fred's bedroom door. Hands shaking a little in nervousness and pacing the hallway.

It's pulled open by the boy who's brows furrow in concern at the sight of her.

"Can I come in? we need to talk,"

"George is asleep, we can talk out here," He smiles softly at her, stepping into the hallway and tugging the door closed behind him.

"You ruined me," She states

"What?" He questions, eyes wide and a sense of nervousness about him

"I had everything together. Everything was perfect, it was glass and could break any second but it as mine and it made me good, it protected me,"

"I'm confused,"

"I didn't let boys matter. It didn't matter if they laughed at my joke, if they were looking at me when I looked at them, if they thought I looked good, if they found me too bitchy or too loud or too anything. It didn't feel like if I wasn't near them I couldn't breathe,"

"If it makes you feel better I always think you look good,"

"Fred, I'm being serious,"

"So am I, darling,"

"I'm scared,"

"I won't hurt you,"

"I think that's the problem," she admits.

"I'm gonna kiss you now cause I've waited forever and you make it fucking impossible sometimes and by sometimes I mean every fucking day cause you-"

"Just kiss me pumpkin,"

"That's still not-"

His protest ends when her lips crash to his, he grins into the kiss, arms snaking around her to pull her in as her's tangle in his hair. A grunt leaving his lips and falling into hers making her smirk against him.

Everything falls into place.  

"About time," They jump apart at the sound of George's voice, leaning in the hallway

"What the fuck George?" Fred complains, although his arms stay wrapped around her, effectively holding her flush to his chest, unable to leave his grip.

"Maybe don't have private discussions in the middle of the hall if you don't want us all listening," at the sound of Ginny's voice the couple look upwards.

Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione who arrived two days before are leaning over the banister on the floor above them to watch.

Fred sighs, before deciding fuck it and crashing his lips back to hers, a little less innocent, smirking when he hears fake gags and his siblings all running back to their rooms.

Pumpkin, pumpkin You're gonna kill me Pumpkin, pumpkin La-la-la-la-la-la Pumpkin, pumpkin I need you to feel me Pumpkin, pumpkin La-la-la-la-la-la, oh Oh-oh, pumpkin, pumpkin Oh, la-la-la-la-la-la La-la, ooh, ooh-ooh

**

Masterlist

[clumsyclifford]

hello bella’s ask box it’s been a min damn.

so the vibes are fucking everywhere w the music in the lab today so i’ve mostly been ignoring it but then unforgettable by thomas rhett started playing and my brain was immediately like This Is a Fic Song

more importantly it is a Bella Fic Song

last time you not so subtly wanted me to prompt u w w thomas rhett song you told me to do that here so i am back again w another song from ur boy

okay i def snuck out just to send this so i gotta go now but this felt important laksdjdld

ok ily bye 💛

hi sam :)

so.................... i was stuck on what to write you for your birthday fic. you sent me this ask prompting me with a thomas rhett song that i had literally been meaning to write a fic based on for almost a full year. the puzzle pieces just aligned REALLY nicely on this one.

happy birthday, my love. there's gonna be a LOT more sappy shit in the ao3 notes, but please know that my life is irreversibly changed for the better because i met you. i am dangerous close to sounding like glinda from wicked and i really want you to get to READ this fic so please see ao3 for more schmaltz. i love you so much.

tw for alcohol

read here on ao3

-

Every life has a moment that imprints on memory like ink on a fresh page. The kind of moment that permanently alters the trajectory of that life, that marks the ending of one chapter and the beginning of another. Some people are lucky enough to have more than one. Some people’s minds are laden with crystallized memories. But there’s always at least one. One completely unforgettable moment.

For Jack, this moment happens twenty-four minutes after he enters the club.

Twenty-three minutes after he enters the club, Zack returns with his and Jack's second beers and says, "There's some guy at the bar who's totally your type."

"Yeah?" Jack cranes his neck, but he can't quite see the bar from where he is. "My type how? Not just 'lonely and drunk,' right? My standards have gotten higher, you know."

Zack hands Jack his beer. "He's cute and he's wearing a One Direction shirt, and I'm pretty sure he's drinking a margarita.”

"Oh shit," Jack says. "That checks all my boxes."

"I know it does," says Zack, winner of the Wingman Of The Decade award. He claps Jack on the shoulder. Jack sidesteps people until he gets eyes on the bar and scans for a cute guy in a One Direction shirt drinking a margarita.

Twenty-four minutes after Jack enters the bar, he sees Alex.

And everything changes forever.

*

"Woah," Jack says. His gut is feeling weird and it’s probably unrelated to the beer and a half under his belt.

"What?"

"The guy at the bar," Jack says, grabbing Zack's arm. "Zack. You grossly undersold my future husband to me."

"Your future husband?" Zack sounds amused, but Jack isn't kidding.

"Remember this moment," he says seriously, giving Zack a sloppy pat on the bicep before moving away from him, towards the bar, towards the cute guy with the One Direction shirt who's making Jack understand clairvoyance. "Remember this so you can tell the story at our wedding!"

"Your wedding," Zack repeats.

"Our fucking wedding!" Jack insists, more loudly as space and drunk people fill the growing gap between him and Zack. Zack just gives him a good-luck-and-godspeed wave.

Seconds later, Jack is at the bar.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

The cute guy in question looks up, surprised. Jack practically reels. It's a miracle people aren't flocking to this guy; he's not just cute, he's gorgeous. Bleach-blond hair — clearly from a bottle, which somehow Jack finds more attractive — flops over his forehead in a stubborn commitment to the emo fringe that died out a decade ago, and long lashes frame brown eyes that rival the glossy chestnut color of the bar. Add the five o'clock shadow and the sharply angled jaw and Jack's speechless.

Fortunately it's not his turn to speak. "I have a drink," says the guy, who is rapidly progressing from Cute Guy At Bar to Possible Soulmate At Bar. He quirks a smile. Jack's done for. "I'll buy you a drink, though."

Jack sets his partially-drunk beer on the bar top and slides it as far as he can reach. "Okay," he says.

Possible Soulmate laughs. He slides his margarita away from him, too, pushing it into the space of another person sitting down the bar. "Touché. Okay, you can buy me a drink."

"Well, hey, I don't want you to waste yours," Jack says reasonably. He retrieves his beer and then Possible Soulmate's drink. "I'll get the next one."

Possible Soulmate smiles. Jack is going to need his name eventually. "I appreciate your commitment to environmentally-friendly consumption of alcohol."

Jack blinks. "Yeah," he says. "That was a lot of big words, but sure. No problem. I'm Jack, by the way."

"Alex." Alex. Jack can see the wedding invites now.

"Nice to meet you," Jack says. "I like your shirt."

Alex glances down out of instinct as the wide collar of the shirt slips over his shoulder. "Thanks," he says with a chuckle, and looks up at Jack. "I like yours."

With great effort, Jack tears his gaze from Alex's shoulder and the hint of collarbone peeking out, but he would like it on the record that it is tremendously difficult. Fortunately he already knows what shirt he's wearing because he'd agonized over it for several minutes longer than Zack's patience ran, shortly before going out.

"Yeah, Kurt Cobain," he says, nodding with probably too much enthusiasm. "I'm a lead singer guy."

"Really?" Alex tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. "Meaning what?"

"I go for the lead singer types," Jack explains. "Kurt Cobain, Billie Joe Armstrong, you know." He nods at Alex's shirt. "Harry Styles."

"Harry Styles wasn't—" Alex breaks off and snorts. "Eh, whatever. Who cares."

"Wait," Jack says. "Hold the phone. Did you fucking cross out Zayn's face?"

Alex looks down at his shirt again like maybe he'll have forgotten what it looks like. "Oh, my friend did that. But now the shirt is factually accurate."

"If you wanted an accurate shirt you'd have to cross them all out since none of them are in the band anymore," Jack observes.

Alex slowly smiles. "I guess."

"I always liked Zayn," Jack says wistfully. "His solo shit is so good, though."

"It's good," Alex says, kind of in the tone of voice of someone who doesn't really agree but doesn't want to get into it, so Jack leaves it be. They can poll their wedding guests. "I'm really digging Niall's solo shit."

"That's an extremely acceptable answer," Jack says, nodding vigorously. In the moment it slips his mind that he's holding a beer and the liquid begins to slosh out of its container. "Oh shit, fuck, sorry."

"Didn't get me," Alex says, passing Jack a napkin. "Couple too many, I get it."

"What?" Jack is very focused on drying his hands so they don't get sticky and gross. "I'm not drunk."

Alex laughs. "Yeah, right."

"I'm not!"

"Okay," Alex says lightly, but it's clear he doesn't believe Jack. On the bright side, he doesn't seem bothered by it.

"I am acceptably drunk for a guy in his mid-twenties at a club,” Jack amends. "And you owe me a drink anyway."

"Hey, I intend to buy you that drink," Alex says earnestly. "Another beer?"

Jack shakes his head. "Vodka soda," he says. "It's a special occasion."

"Really! You celebrating something?"

"I am now," Jack says. "Celebrating meeting my future husband."

"Your future husband?"

"You," Jack says, in case it wasn't clear. "It's not every day you meet the man you're gonna marry. I think it calls for a celebratory vodka soda."

Alex stares, obviously expecting Jack to say sike! When Jack does no such thing, he gives a small, incredulous laugh.

"Fair enough," he says. He sounds like he's humoring Jack. That's okay. Jack is serious, but Alex will figure that out on his own time. "I guess you're not wrong. That doesn't happen every day."

A large shadow materializes on Alex's other side, blocking light like some very cliché movie villain. It's not Doc Ock, but it is some tall, burly guy, a leer affixed to his face that's probably been there since Alex's haircut went out of style.

"Hey, baby," he says in an unnervingly deep voice. The part of Jack that isn't super skeezed out is a little jealous. But Burly Guy isn't talking to Jack; Jack may as well be invisible. To Alex, Burly Guy says, "Saw you across the bar and I just had to come over."

Didn't have to, Jack thinks grumpily to himself. You could have stayed across the bar. If you walk away now we’ll pretend we never saw you.

"Can I get you a drink?" Burly Guy asks, and honestly, Jack has no idea what Alex is going to say.

Big Burly Guy with a deep voice a la Morgan Freeman vs. resident beanstalk Jack whose voice sounds like a rejected cartoon character design. What a tough choice.

Jack is just preparing to cut his losses when Alex grabs Jack's wrist, turns to him, and says, "Honey? What do you think?"

Jack's tipsy, but Alex is definitely communicating something with his eyes, and between that and the pet name Jack is pretty sure he's on the same page.

"You want to buy my boyfriend a drink?" Jack asks Big Burly Guy, cranking up the Bitchy energy because he doesn't get to do it a lot and it's kinda fun. His voice has definitely gone vaguely southern-auntie, but he's rolling with it. "Sorry, sugar, this seat's taken. Must be this guy" — he points at himself — "to ride."

"This guy?" Burly Guy echoes, furrowing his eyebrows at Jack and then looking at Alex with profound confusion, like he just doesn't get it. "You're with this guy?"

"Happily," Alex says, glancing back at Jack, who offers him what is definitely a convincingly enamored smile because Jack is legitimately enamored. Alex laces their fingers together and Jack's not delusional, can't be, not when they fit this well together. No way. "So I'm gonna pass on that drink. Sorry, man. No hard feelings."

Burly Guy seems to have some hard feelings. Maybe he didn't get the memo. "Whatever," he says gruffly. "Your loss."

Jack can't resist countering, "Actually it's your loss, sweetums," as Burly Guy retreats. If he dies tonight, he knows who’s responsible.

As soon as he's gone, Alex breaks down laughing, and Jack quickly follows suit. Alex's hand slips from Jack's and begins to tug at the ends of his own hair instead.

"Sugar?"

"I don't know what happened," Jack says/wheezes. "I became possessed by Blanche from Golden Girls.”

"You have to be" — Alex prods Jack's chest — "this guy to ride." He dissolves into giggles and Jack is laughing too but mostly because Alex's laugh is incredibly contagious.

"Look, I don't blame him," Jack says, feeling exhilarated. "You are the best-looking guy in this establishment. He just happened to have creepo vibes."

"I am not the best-looking guy in this establishment," Alex says, grinning at Jack. "Nice of you to say, though."

"Hey, I'm serious!"

"I thought you were Jack."

Jack stares at Alex and Alex doesn't even last a second before he's breaking down laughing yet again.

I'm going to marry you, Jack thinks, and it almost scares him how serious he is about that. He opens his mouth and says, "That wasn't even— that's not even one of the good dad jokes! That's the most boring one!"

"There is no such thing as a boring dad joke."

"You should go into stand-up," Jack says dryly. "You'd tear down the house with this set. I can see it now." He waves a grandiose hand in the air as if painting the marquee into existence, but when he goes to introduce the act he realizes he's missing most of the crucial information. "Alex…something…something. Austin, Texas, one night only."

"Gaskarth," Alex says. "That's my last name."

"Alex Something Gaskarth," Jack loyally amends, and gives Alex a look like, well?

Except Alex is giving Jack that same look. "I only know your first name and you expect me to tell you my full one?"

"Jack Bassam Barakat," Jack says, gesturing impatiently. "Come on, I'm trying to introduce your act here."

"Guess," Alex says.

"Guess?"

"It's a pretty basic middle name," Alex says. "I'll buy you your vodka soda when you guess it."

"Alex," Jack says. "I am not going to guess your middle name. I am so bad at these games and I'm fucking drunk."

"Quitter," Alex says. "Do you want your drink?"

Jack scowls, trying to channel Blanche again, but Alex is apparently immune.

"Give me a hint," he finally concedes.

"It's a British name," Alex says. “Pretty standard British.”

"Are you British?”

Alex nods. "Born and raised. Moved here when I was about…eight? But I'm not an American citizen. I have a green card."

Yet another reason they should be married. Jack could extend his citizenship to Alex. Plus he'd gain British citizenship, which would probably be useful for, like, travel or One Direction stalking or whatever.

"That's sick," Jack says. "I was born in Lebanon. We moved when I was a baby."

"That's so cool," Alex says, sounding genuinely interested. He props his chin on his hand and gives Jack a cheeky smile. "Now guess."

Jack sighs. "Uh, Charles."

"No."

"Darcy."

"Darcy?"

"Margaret."

"Jack."

"You said it's a British name!"

"A British man's name," Alex says, rolling his eyes in fond exasperation.

Jack takes a long pull from his beer, swallows, and says, "Harry."

"No."

They're going to be here awhile. Jack pulls out the seat next to Alex and settles in while he racks his brain for British names.

*

“Alfred.”

“Nope.”

“John.”

“No.”

“Paul.”

“No.”

“George.” Alex shakes his head. “Ringo.”

“Yup, you finally got it,” Alex says. Jack is over the moon for a split second before it sinks in that Alex is fucking with him. “Alex Ringo Gaskarth. Well done.”

“Fuck off, I’m doing my best here,” Jack says.

“You’re missing one incredibly obvious name,” Alex says. “It’s not that hard.”

“For you,” Jack says. “Because you already know it.” Alex is grinning. Jack likes that he’s enjoying himself. It makes this guessing game fun. Under any other circumstances, this guessing game would not be fun, but Alex makes it fun.

Alex has also finished his mango margarita by now, and Jack’s beer is long since empty. He’s itching for another drink, mainly for something to do with his hands.

As if reading his mind, Alex flags down the bartender, who sidles up with a small smile and says, “What can I get you boys?”

Jack blinks at her. Mostly at her accent, which is not American.

“Vodka soda,” Alex says. To Jack, “I think you’ve earned it.” Jack smiles.

“And a mango margarita,” he puts in to the bartender, “and are you British?”

The bartender looks amused. “I am British,” she says.

“Please help me,” Jack says. “Alex says his middle name is a British name and I cannot for the life of me figure out what it fucking is.”

“Jack, the nice bartender lady has other things to do,” Alex says with a laugh. The nice bartender lady probably does have other things to do, but she shifts her weight and gives Alex an appraising look instead.

“Harry?”

“Tried that,” Jack says, realizing at once that this is a pointless endeavor. The nice bartender lady is going to guess everything Jack’s already guessed and he’ll just have wasted her time. “I’ve tried every member of One Direction, every member of the Beatles, every member of Oasis, every Harry Potter character, every member of the Royal Family—”

At this, Alex coughs conspicuously.

Jack rounds on him. “I have.”

“Edward,” the bartender offers. Alex’s lips are pressed together in a smile and he shakes his head. “Meghan. Kate. Richard. Dick. Philip.”

A lightbulb goes off as the bartender is listing Royal Family names. Jack wants to kick himself. “Oh my— William?”

“Yeahhhh, there you go! See, it was easy,” Alex says, grinning widely.

“William,” the bartender repeats with a charming little laugh. Her lipstick is bright with clean lines, an impressive feat considering Jack has seen her bustling around this bar for almost an hour now. “I had an ex called William.”

“Oh no,” Alex says. “I hope he didn’t ruin the name for you.”

“Please,” the bartender says, waving him off. “The only thing he ruined for me was a few meters of drywall.” Jack and Alex must have twin looks of concern, because she explains, “Anger issues. No worries, boys, I sent him packing, and a vodka soda for you, and a mango marg for you.”

She slides their drinks into waiting hands and starts to turn away. “Wait a sec,” Jack says.

The bartender turns back to him with wide Bambi eyes. “Did I fuck up the drink? I’ve made it a million—”

“No no no,” Jack assures her. “I just wanted to know your name. You rescued me from an eternal guessing game, you’re my hero.”

The bartender smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maisie,” she says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Maisie,” Alex says. “Thank you for the alcohol.”

Maisie laughs again as she moves to the other side of the bar.

“William,” Jack says, swirling his drink with the miniature straw. “God damn. I can’t believe I missed William.”

“You got close,” Alex says. “You guessed Liam twice. And thanks for the drink.”

“Same to you,” Jack says. “It’s a good drink. Yours, I mean. You know what offends me, though? Why aren’t mango margaritas orange?”

Alex furrows his brow. “Why the fuck would they be orange?”

“Mangos are orange! Fruity drinks should be the same color as their fruit.”

“Mangos are not fucking orange,” Alex says with an incredulous laugh. “They’re straight-up yellow.”

“They’re orange with yellow tendencies,” Jack says, “but mostly orange.”

“They are entirely yellow,” Alex says. “Coldplay even wrote a song about them. They were all yellow.”

“They’re orange,” Jack insists, but now Alex has moved on completely and is loudly singing Coldplay.

“I came along! I wrote a song foooor youuuuu! And all the things you do!”

“You’re ignoring the truth!”

“And it was called ‘Yellow’!” Alex shouts.

“Okay, I surrender! Sheesh. You win.”

“Thank you,” Alex says placidly, like he hasn’t just been yelling obnoxiously over the (worse, but much louder) club music. “I’m going to enjoy my yellow mango marg very much.”

“And I will enjoy my victory drink,” Jack says, lifting his glass. Alex lifts his. It smells like mango and tequila. They clink the rims together. “To William.”

“To William,” Alex agrees, laughing.

*

The DJ plays a song Jack loves to hate from hearing it on the radio so many times and Alex is out of his seat before Jack’s managed to put down his drink.

“What are—”

“I love this song, I want to dance,” Alex insists. The implication is clearly that he wants Jack to dance with him, which is like. What is Jack gonna do, say no?

Alex must anticipate some kind of argument, though, because with a glint in his eye he adds lightly, “These are the kinds of things you’ll have to do if we’re married.”

On the one hand, he’s clearly making fun. But on the other hand, the fact that Alex was a stranger an hour ago and is still comfortable teasing Jack about suggesting they’re going to get married speaks volumes. Alex is smiling. They’ve known each other for less than an hour — a drink and a half each — and Alex is smiling at his own joke about marrying Jack. Like he likes that Jack said it first. Like he likes Jack.

“Just wait ‘til you learn all the weird shit you’ll have to do when we’re married,” Jack says, sliding out of his stool.

Any sane person would have run away by now. Even Jack knows when he’s coming on too strong.

But Alex does the opposite; Alex grabs his wrist and pulls him towards the dance floor.

“Fair warning,” Alex says. “I don’t actually know how to dance.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jack says, and then eats his words not two seconds later when Alex demonstrates how very much he doesn’t know how to dance. All of his limbs seem to move as their own entities, zero synchronization. A couple surrounding people take various minor assaults before taking the hint and giving Alex some space, but this does not stop him. “Okay,” Jack says loudly over the music. “You were right. But luckily neither do I.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Alex says.

Jack does the sprinkler. Alex snorts. He does the wave, very poorly, and Alex continues it, also very poorly.

“Mr. Moves,” Alex says. “I’m impressed.”

“Yeah? Check this one out.” Jack does the running man with extreme focus. Alex laughs, leaning towards Jack as he does. Jack stops dancing so he doesn’t accidentally hit Alex, who is suddenly much closer and who somehow smells like pine and flannel and fall and winter in one and is the best-looking person in blue jeans and checkered Vans on this dance floor. Far from the only person, but without question the prettiest.

Fuck.

“I don’t think I can do that one,” says Alex, grinning. Jack nods at him like, try it, so Alex does, proving himself right. He almost takes Jack’s eye out.

“Yeesh, okay, you’re— alright, take it easy,” Jack says, swatting Alex’s wayward hand away and laughing. “Well, we all have our strengths.”

Surrendering the running man, Alex starts up with some bizarre hand-wavey foot-kicky thing, singing along to the music.

“Do you seriously like this song?” Jack asks, attempting to imitate Alex’s dance. “Dance,” heavy quote marks implied.

Alex shoots Jack a look. “Hell yeah. What, you don’t?”

“It’s just…always on,” Jack says. “Everywhere. How are you not sick of it?”

“Because it fuckin’ slaps!” Alex looks incensed.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised you’re a pop music person when you’re literally in a One Direction shirt.”

“I’m a lots of music person,” Alex counters. “Including pop music, yeah. You don’t like pop music?”

“I sometimes do,” Jack says. “I like Taylor Swift. Britney Spears.”

“Okay, well, you’d have to be insane not to like them.”

“Yeah, and I’m obviously sane.”

Alex barks a laugh. “Drunk but sane.”

“I am not drunk!” That’s probably a lie by now.

“You’re not convincing me otherwise,” Alex says. “I’m confident you’ve been drunk this whole time.”

“You haven’t exactly been an innocent bystander,” Jack says. “You bought me a drink, and you’re gonna buy us shots in a minute.”

“I did— I what?”

“Yeah,” Jack says, and this time he drags Alex off the dance floor, back to the bar. “I can see the future, I forgot to tell you.”

“You—” Alex laughs again and leans on the bar, trapping both his elbows between his stomach and the bartop. “You’re buying the next round.”

“Oh, happily,” Jack says. “I’m actively trying to get you drunk.”

“Why’s that?”

“Studies show I am 75% more attractive to people when they’re drunk,” says Jack.

Alex turns to him. Without missing a beat, he says smoothly, “I don’t think it’s possible for you to get any more attractive.”

Fuck. Actually, fuck. Seriously. Fuck.

“You must be drunk already, then,” Jack says.

Alex smiles serenely. “I feel pretty sober.”

“Exactly what a drunk person would say,” Jack says. “J’accuse, William.”

Alex laughs. “In that case, your studies are right.”

Jack’s probably blushing. He does that in extreme cases only, but this is nothing if not an extreme case. Alex is fucking relentless.

Maisie the bartender is back, and Alex orders them shots of tequila. Somewhere in the recesses of Jack’s mind, this unlocks a memory, and he snaps his fingers. “I should hunt down my friend, he loves tequila.”

“Friend?” Alex looks around while Maisie pours their shots. “You ditched your friend?”

“He told me to,” Jack says. “He’s probably gonna pick up some girl. Actually, he probably already has.”

“Really,” Alex says, sounding amused.

“Zack’s a strong silent type,” Jack explains. “Emphasis on strong. We’re single guys in our mid-twenties, Alex. We’re not going to clubs for the atmosphere.”

“Admit it,” Alex says. “You a little bit are.”

Jack bites his lip. “Fine, I like the atmosphere,” he admits, more affected than he should be that Alex seems to have picked up on this about him. “And the alcohol. And the chances I’ll meet my future husband, which clearly paid off. Zack will never admit it, but I’m pretty sure he likes trying to set me up with random people in clubs.”

Alex laughs. “He set you up with me?”

“Oh yeah,” Jack says. “He wingmanned me hard. You can thank him in your vows.”

This only serves to make Alex laugh harder. “I’ll thank him now,” he says with a grin. Taking his cue, Jack grabs his shot glass. Alex does the same. “To Zack.”

“To Zack!” Jack cheers, and they both down their shots.

“Me?”

Jack whirls around and trips straight into Zack. “Zack!” he says brightly. “We toasted you.”

“I heard,” Zack says. “Why, exactly?”

“I’m Alex,” says Alex, holding out a hand. Zack shakes it. “Apparently you set us up?”

“Oh,” Zack says. “I wouldn’t really say that. I just kind of pointed Jack in this direction. If you can put up with him, that’s all you.”

“I was gonna come find you anyway,” Jack says. “We’re doing tequila shots. Next round on me.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Zack says. “Count me in.”

They can’t come up with a toast for their second round so they just knock it back with an ambiguous cheer; then Zack offers to buy another, and Jack’s not about to refuse. It’s starting to hit just right, so he’s buzzed but not incoherent. All his most brilliant ideas come in this state.

Case in point: as Maisie is pouring them their third round, Jack suddenly says, “Maisie! Do a shot with us!”

Maisie looks up and laughs. “I’m not supposed to drink on the job,” she says.

“It’s not drinking, it’s bonding,” Jack insists.

“Yeah, we’re forming lasting friendships,” Alex jumps in.

Zack looks entertained. “You guys know each other?”

“As of half an hour ago, yes,” Maisie says.

“Maisie here helped me guess Alex’s middle name,” Jack explains. “Which is William. Like the prince.”

“I feel like I missed so much,” Zack says, half to himself. He shrugs and nods at Maisie. “One shot. On me. For Jack. We won’t tell.”

Maybe it’s because Zack is buff and has cool tattoos or just has good vibes or whatever, but Maisie hesitates only a second before inclining her head. “Just one, and no blabbing,” she says, meeting all of their eyes in turn. Everyone nods solemnly, and Maisie discreetly pours herself a fourth shot.

“Hell yes!” Jack whoops as they all take a shot glass. “To Maisie!”

“To Maisie!” Everyone echoes, including Maisie with a wry grin.

The third shot goes down smoother than the first two. Jack swallows his easily, as does Alex. Maisie puckers her face a bit. Zack has zero reaction, because Zack’s just kinda like that.

“While I’m here, I was hoping to get another beer,” Zack says.

“On it,” Maisie says immediately, giggling. “Thanks for the shot, boys. You’ve kept me far more entertained tonight than my usual shift provides.”

“You can give a toast at our wedding,” Jack says to her. Zack’s eyes widen a little, Alex snorts, and Maisie laughs.

“I’d be honored,” she says. “Back to work now. You need anything, let me know.”

“Seriously, Jack?”

“What?” Jack gives Zack an innocent smile. He pats Zack on the cheek. “Don’t worry, sugar, you can give a toast too.”

Alex laughs. Zack stares at him and shakes his head. “You’re insane,” he says, but he says that roughly twice a day so he’s still below his quota. “I’ll leave you two alone. Come find me when you wanna go. If…” He eyes Alex. “...Just…yeah.”

And with these eloquent words, he disappears with his beer into the crowd.

“I like him,” Alex announces.

“Me too,” Jack says. He turns back to Alex. “Back to the dance floor?”

“Get out of my brain,” Alex says. “I’d like to see your drunken running man.”

“It is gonna blow your fucking mind,” Jack promises, and Alex laughs again.

*

They’re not even being gross like everyone else. Alex has pulled Jack into an exaggerated tango performed mostly with missteps when it happens: someone shoves them aside as they walk past, and Alex loses his balance and falls into Jack, who just barely manages to catch them both. He doesn’t manage to stop his arm from winding around Alex’s waist. To be fair, he doesn’t try very hard.

Jack’s first thought is homophobe, but then he spots the offender, lumbering off with heavy footfalls, and it’s Burly Guy from earlier. The guy who tried and failed to pick Alex up.

All of this registers as Alex slowly regains his footing. “Damn, who pissed in that dude’s Cheerios?”

“It’s the guy from before who tried to buy you a drink,” Jack says, pointing at his back.

Alex whips his head around. “Seriously? Asshole.”

Jack chooses not to observe that from his vantage point, being shoved close together is hardly a dick move. In intent, sure, but not in actuality; Jack’s enjoying the proximity a great deal. Like, a lot.

Like, his hand is still on Alex’s hip, subtly keeping Alex close, and Alex has his arm around Jack’s shoulders from their dance and he’s not moving, either.

“Yeah,” Jack says. They’d already been on the outskirts and now they’re off to the side of everyone, wallflowers.

Alex breathes a laugh and looks back at Jack. He doesn’t step back or even lean away, even though their faces are too close to be friendly now. Jack hadn’t really been expecting friendly, but they’ve been tightrope-walking between sides, and if neither of them breaks this up then they’ll be irreversibly left on one end.

Jack has no intention of moving away. He likes this end of the tightrope. For all he cares, they could cut the tightrope and free-fall together.

“You’re pretty good at bad tango-ing,” Alex says, reaching up to brush away the sweaty fringe that’s clinging to his forehead.

Jack grins. “Well, you know what they say. It takes two.”

Alex kisses him so suddenly that Jack almost loses his balance.

*

He tastes like tequila. That’s all Jack gets before they’re not kissing anymore. The room feels quiet and then unforgivably loud the next second, and Alex is flushed and smiling nervously, and Jack is smiling too, not nervous at all.

“Did I tell you I’m in a band?” Alex asks in a rush.

Jack’s brain struggles to keep up. He can’t remember Alex mentioning a band, but he’s also distracted by wanting to kiss Alex again. There’s no understating the power of wanting to kiss someone over failing to clock anything they say. “What?”

“I’m in a band,” Alex says. “Not as a job, just like, for fun.”

“Oh,” says Jack.

“I’m the lead singer,” Alex says, with a flickering look down at Jack’s shirt.

“Oh,” says Jack, because, like, oh. “Can I kiss you again?”

“What, here?” Alex meets his eyes. “With all these people around?”

“You kissed me first,” Jack says. “Let me kiss you and then we can call it even.”

“Okay,” Alex says, and Jack’s kissing him before the word’s really out of his mouth.

And he tastes like tequila and mango and sugar and the color yellow and the sweat of the dance floor and God, it’s good. It’s like kissing a memory, except this memory is still here, not frozen in time, not trapped in an ornate frame. He’s creating a memory that he knows he’ll relive for the rest of his life.

Somehow, though he doesn’t know the end of this chapter, he knows the end of the book.

Alex’s warm palm cradling Jack’s cheek to hold him steady, fingers splayed out like a star; Alex’s other hand grazing skin over the collar of Jack’s shirt. Alex singing Coldplay in Jack’s ear. Alex’s blue jeans and his checkered Vans and his ridiculous One Direction tank top. Alex holding Jack’s hand and calling him honey to get Burly Guy to leave him alone. Grinning as he shoots down guess after guess for the elusive middle name. Laughing at Jack’s stupid dance moves. Knocking back a shot like it’s nothing. Smiling when Jack says they’re going to get married, never moving away, only ever closer.

Alex sitting undisturbed at the bar, ankles crossed, and Jack seeing him from across the room like something out of a goddamn Hallmark movie and just knowing.

He tugs Alex closer but Alex is already pulling away with a smile. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah,” Jack says. He smoothes a hand over a crease in Alex’s shirt and nods. “Taxi’s on me if we go back to your place.”

“Sucker, I was gonna suggest that anyway,” Alex says with a quiet laugh. “You should tell Zack. Don’t wanna just leave him.”

“Don’t worry,” Jack says. “He knows.”

“He knows?”

“Zack and I are brothers in clairvoyance,” Jack says. “How many times do I have to tell you this?”

“I knew you could see the future,” Alex says. “You never told me Zack could, too.”

“Zack can see everyone’s future,” says Jack. “I can only see mine.”

“Yeah? What’s your future look like now?”

Jack filters out several inappropriate comments. It’s hard when Alex is smirking, clearly baiting him. “I told you,” he says. “You, me, vows, rings, the works.”

“Not that future,” Alex says. “I’m talking about the immediate one.”

It takes everything in Jack not to get down on one knee and say so was I. There’s a tilt in Alex’s head, like a dog listening carefully for a familiar sound.

“Honestly?” Jack says, and Alex nods. “I think it’s more fun if we find out together.”

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - You're Kidding Me

So we’ve finally come to the last of season two’s filler episodes. Let’s see if we can knock this one out real quick. 

Summary: The front door of the mysterious seashell estate vanishes, trapping the group. They try to find another way out but find a spinning top whose magic regresses Cassandra and Lance into toddlers and Shorty into a baby.  They’ve only have an hour to find the top and reverse the effects or the changes become permanent. Unfortunately neither of Rapunzel’s or Eugene’s parenting methods keep their now childish friends on task. 

So Why Did No One Stand Watch Last Night?

They were all sleeping right next to the entrance, and after the run in with the mirror monsters, you would think that they would have taken turns standing watch. 

But nope, the front door vanishes when no one was looking cause they don't have any foresight. 

A Low Budget Doesn’t Excuse Filler

Like most of season two, this is yet another episode that adds very little to the overall story. It’s slightly better than the Return of Quaid or Curses, but not by much. I put it on the same level as The Forest of No Return, as I do like the mains’ development, but there’s really no reason why such episodes exist to begin with. 

The meta reason for staying in certain places for three episodes, instead of only one or two, is because of budgetary reasons. The crew have to build new sets and models for every new location or person the cast comes across. This costs money to make, so the higher ups wanted to reuse assets. Which is understandable, but not an excuse for utilizing them poorly.  

If you need to stay in one area or have characters reappear, then you need to give story reasons for that. Ones that tie back to the overall narrative and/or the mains’ character arcs. 

The shell house and Matthews should be more important than what they are as they both have connections to the ultimate big bad of the series.Adria shouldn’t be wasted for a whole episode when she’s the only one driving the plot in season two and has limited appearances. Vardaros and its people shouldn’t be a one and done thing if you’re going to spend so much time setting them up. And there’s still one off episodes, locations, and characters who aren’t brought back and add nothing 

Not only does this make for a weaker story, it also undermines the cost saving measures that you tried to implement to begin with.  

This Isn’t Representation! 

Get it?! 

She’s a top! 

She’s totally gay, but like not really, cause this can also be interpreted as a dominatrix joke, and there’s no other real indication of her orientation outside her like smiling at her best friend/crush/sister sometimes and keeping that rose her creepy ex-boyfriend gave her. 

And don't give me any bullshit excuses about Disney not letting the crew make Cassandra canonly gay/bi. 

The Owl House aired just this year, the same year as Tangled’s final season. Also Globby and Carl from Big Hero Six were both confirmed to be a couple on screen a month after this episode came out. Both shows would have been in development at the same time as Tangled was. Both would have been subject to the same regulations and restrictions while writing their stories. 

It isn’t “Disney” that stopped the storyboard artists from having Cass be a confirmed lesbian, it’s Chris and Ben, the head writers themselves, who failed to write it into the story properly, if at all. 

Chris is the one who made Raps and Cass “sisters”. Chris is the one who wouldn’t tell the crew about his ‘twists’. Chris is the one who had Cass crush on Andrew, even after he tried to kill her. Chris is the one who made Cassandra ‘straight’ and has since used gay baiting to keep her fanbase in his pocket. 

Like I am really damn sick and tired of Casspunzel stans defending Chris on twitter, when he’s the very one who sunk thier ship to begin with. I’m also really fed up with certain fans trying to bully others for not accepting their “Cass is a lesbian” headcanons as fact because what the storyboarders say on twitter after the show is over with isn’t gospel and isn’t real rep. 

I don’t care if you ship Cass with Raps or headcanon her as being gay. Ships and headcanons are great and can be a lot of fun. But fuck you if you ever try to shame people for not sharing your ships/headcanons. Not only is it biophobic and acephobic to insist that there’s only ever a binary option when it comes to orientation and shipping, but it also reinforces harmful stereotypes and tropes about people in the queer community. 

Like, yes, I personally may be an introverted angry bitch who’s an LBGTQA member and activist, but that doesn’t mean that every introverted bitchy woman in media is a lesbian. What kind of message does that send people when that’s the only character archetype that’s given representation or is loudly proclaimed as ‘gay’ by the wider audience? Fuck that noise! 

I Know Humor is Subjective but...WHY?

Why did we give the baby a beard? How does that logically work? Did anyone outside of the crew actually find this funny? 

TTS has like this one out of touch dude throwing out jokes that don’t really land with the target audience. Fans have called it ‘boomer humor’ but it’s actually ‘Gen-X’ humor. Not only because Chris and Ben are Gen Xers but because this is the type of crap my older brother would find hilarious. 

Gen Xers are between Boomers and Millennials and so their humor is this weird blend of gross out shock humor, ironic nihilism, and out of date stereotypes that are only mildly better than those of the previous generation before them. They’re the generation who gave us Beavis and Butthead, South Park, and Clerks. 

That’s not a criticism of Gen X as a generation, but rather just an acknowledgment that they’re worlds away from the neo-dada absurdism, more socially conscious, and globalized humor of Gen Z.    

So Why Is the Bad Guy Telling the Heroes How to Foil His Plans? 

Like he not only tells them how to fix their problem and how long they got in order to do so, but he also informs them how it happened in the first place. This goes directly against his plans. Had he simply said nothing and stayed out sight, then Raps and Eugene would have been lost for the full hour and most likely not have saved everyone on time. 

I like to headcanon that Mathews is just “that asshole” that loves to taunt and tease but in a that manner that gives him plausible deniability. He also may just be bored, since he’s a ghost trapped in one place all the time. Yet that still doesn’t change the fact that he shot himself in the foot here. 

Raps and Young Cass’s Relationship Is the Same as Raps and Adult Cass’s, and That Is a Problem. 

Condescending, manipulative, hypocritical, and bossy is the way Rapunzel treats everyone. She doesn’t understand the actual difference between a child and an adult. She only understands who she who she can and can’t boss  around. And those people that she can’t place under her thumb are labeled antagonists by the show. 

Nor does she actually care about what either kid Lance or kid Cass has to say. She’s just being proformative, and young Cass can see through that BS, which why her methods do not work. It’s not because she’s not ‘strict’ enough; it’s because she’s not being honest. 

Meanwhile Child Cassandra is just as combative, rude, bullying, and entitled as Adult Cassandra. In season three she regresses even further and becomes more violent than before.

Unlike Rapunzel, Cassandra wasn’t trapped in a tower for 18 years with zero human contact outside of her abuser. She escaped that fate and was raised in a loving home. That doesn’t mean that there won't be scars, but I still expect her to be more mature than her seven year old self. Just because she’s whining about not being special enough at 24 instead of screaming about the floor being lava doesn’t mean that she’s still not throwing a temper tantrum.  

Like I should not be seeing a replay/foreshadowing of their main conflict here. They aren’t children. They’re dynamic isn’t that of a mother and child. It’s not even a big sister looking out for a little sister type relationship. Its two immature women dragging innocent victims into their bitchy cat fight for dominance over the other.  

If you want me to take their issues seriously then give them real stakes to disagree over, mature behavior that I can root for, and a resolvement that doesn’t reverse any potential development that they could have had.    

Matthews Plan Makes Zero Sense

For starters, half the group being kids isn’t enough of a reason for Rapunzel to stay at the shell house. Even if the effects of the time top became permanent, then Raps and Eugene could just leave and take the kids with them. Either to finish the road trip, or go straight back to Corona. Not that there’s any real reason to get the Dark Kingdom anyways, nor is there a ticking clock stopping Raps from trying again later if she chose to. 

Rapunzel also is not obligated to become anyone’s mother. If she took them back to Corona than Cap would undoubtedly raise Cassandra all over again, and Lance and Shorty could be adopted by someone else. Any of the pub thugs might take them or even perhaps the King and Queen since they missed out on raising their actual daughter. Though for my money I’d get Monty or Xavier to take them in. They seem the most mature and both are shown to be good with kids. 

Then again Rapunzel has been shown twice now to not give a damn about abandoning orphans, so even the ‘dump them at an orphanage’ or ‘leave them alone in the woods to fend for themselves’ isn’t entirely off the table either. I wish I was joking, but I’m not. Sadly, only Eugene’s love for Lance might be the one thing to stop her from doing just so, and even that’s iffy. 

As for the missing door from earlier, if that was all that was stopping them from leaving then the time top shenanigans were fully unnecessary altogether. 

I Actually Like Eugene and Rapunzel’s Conflict Here; I Just Wish It Was In a Better Episode. 

Each of their viewpoints stem from their upbringing. 

Rapunzel is unique in that she was simultaneously emotionally abused and neglected while being physically spoiled. Especially once she found out that she was princess, where she was then handed nearly anything and everything she wanted. She doesn’t recognize that getting your every possible whim come true can be damaging. Nor does she have any comprehension of what living in poverty is like and how this many toys is wasteful to someone like Eugene who had so very little and stole to survive. 

She does however associate limits, boundaries, and orders with abusive behavior because she’s been denied autonomy and respect her whole life. She’s never seen what healthy parenting looks like and how rules can be applied correctly.     

To Rapunzel no orders is ‘freeing’ and ‘validation’ is all that is needed to get a child to listen to you. Which doesn’t work for her because she doesn’t understand that real communication is more than just giving a compliment now and then. 

Meanwhile Eugene lacked any sort of anchor at all. He was left to his own devices at a young age and had no one to rely on for emotional needs and, after leaving the orphanage, no one to provide physical needs either. 

It’s telling that he and Lance latched onto Quaid as the only authority figure in their life, despite Quaid never out right adopting them. He was the only sense of stability that they had who they could trust wouldn’t hurt them, despite being strict with them. 

And now that Eugene has gotten older and is reformed, he can probably understand why Quaid was so harsh on him and Lance. Quaid probably did more to try and help them turn from a life crime than even Rapunzel did. Like meeting Rapunzel was the inciting incident that inspired Eugene to make that leap, but the groundwork was already laid out for him to do so elsewhere. Things like his good communication skills, respect and empathy of others, and understanding of boundaries had to be learned from somewhere, and if not from the Sheriff of Vardaros than who? 

What I’m getting at is that, while Rapunzel rejects her parents methods but then fails to break her learned habits from them anyways, Eugene is the reverse. He’s come to embrace his mentor’s teachings, but he fails to implement them correctly because he’s not Quaid. Being authoritative isn’t his strong suit. It goes against his usual nature as the easy going person that he is and so any attempts to come across as forceful fail as they’re hollow. 

Kids know authenticity and genuineness when they see it. The children reject Rapunzel because she’s not being real with them, yet they also reject Eugene cause he’s not being honest with himself. 

It’s a complex and mature conflict. Neither person is fully right nor wrong, and only by learning from each other and adopting both methods can they achieve their goal. 

TTS can be deep when it wants to be. There’s a good foundation here for mature themes and complex characterization. It’s just the series doesn’t ever commit to it. 

Whatever personal drama going on here about two young adults trying to cope with their past traumas and how that affects their current life and future goals is completely lost in the magical goofy antics and low stakes situation. Even the stuff about Eugene and his relationship with Quaid is reduced to nothing but a one off joke rather than being genuinely explored as a point of development.  

Imagine how much more powerful things would have been if Angry and Red were brought along on the trip. If this argument was over them and whether or not they should adopt the two girls themselves or consider other options. That would be something with real weight. Something with a choice that had actual consequences attached to it. Something that would permanently affect all involved parties. Something that wouldn’t make the two leads look like outright dicks for abandoning two children for a second damn time in a row.    

You Have 70 Feet of Magical, Indestructible Hair! Why Are You Afraid of a Bunch of Dogs!?

You’ve fought off giant monsters, killer robots, and supernatural beings with magical powers. What do you mean you can’t hold off a pack of guard dogs while busting down a stuck door? Why is Eugene the shield for everyone and not the actual unbreakable hair that you use as a shield all the damn time? And Why did we have to rely on Shorty again to be the deus ex machina of the episode? 

At this point the writers should have just made him Demantius instead of the monkey.   

What Happened To This New Dream? Where Did It Go In Season Three?

Most fans who do enjoy season two happen to be big New Dream fans as this is by far and away the best season for them. I’ll admit that the series, up to this point, had me actively liking them together, despite being originally lukewarm to the pairing in the movie. 

Their conflicts were for the the most part mature and real. They learned from one another equally and had open communication when it didn't involve ‘marriage is a trap’ BS. Things, like compromising on differentiating future goals, honesty and communication, and making time for one another and extending effort into a relationship while being true to yourself are all relatable issues. 

Even today's episode featured the topic of having kids and parenting. Which is a discussion you absolutely need to have with your prospective spouse before entering into any long term commitments and signing any legal contracts. For real, I’ve seen marriages fall apart because they didn’t agree on whether or not they wanted children. 

I don’t know what went down between writing season two and season three, but things quickly took a sharp turn away from this dynamic and nosedived into a pit of uncomfortable bullying and gross sexist implications here after. 

Matthews Plan Goes Against Zhan Tiri’s Plan 

Yeah so Matthews is one of Zhan Tiri’s disciples, but he apparently doesn’t know of her goals/plans, cause she needs Rapunzel and company to reach the moonstone, not stay stuck here. 

The meta reason for this that the Zhan Tiri’s story was altered at the last minute and the writers failed to make sure there was any sort of consistency between what they already set up and where they actually wound to actually taking the plot.  

The in universe reason is that Zhan Tiri is an impotent moron, but that’s not what the writers were going for so it’s a fail. 

Conclusion  

I like the New Dream stuff, and Matthews is at least entertaining despite being incompetent. Everything else about the episode is ‘meh’ tho. 

[bxffysxmmers]

war paint

okay so this is going to be short, sweet, and to the point: here are some professional soccer players, freya's teammates!! frey here was well on her way to the national league when one dumb scandal too many popped up and her team basically condemned her, which she may have brought on herself by ignoring her publicist and just writing a whole damn letter to the newspaper. but still, this team right here made an offer to get one of their now best players, and that player took it - leading freya to join them. the rest is just ideas and can be edited as you see fit. please make these characters your own and let's bring these guys to life!! feel free to mix up positions and such as desired and feel free to add reserve players, coaches, a hydration attendant, whatever else you want. again, the below descriptions are incredibly loose and do not have to be followed, just some ideas for dynamics and places within the team. but realistically? bring us whoever!! this is based on the chicago red stars which is an all girls team but... we're gonna ignore that and go into a little realm of disbelief for the sake of rp and say that the team is co-ed, meaning feel free to use any face claim as you see fit. thanks!!

CENTRE FORWARD. FREYA WILDER, ATHENA, 22.

swears in french. leather jackets and sundresses. distracting the opponent by serving looks. what do you mean 'apologize'? women can do anything. beauty and the fist fight. publicity nightmare. can't keep a ship to save her life. 'you know what you need? alcohol.'

ATTACKING MIDFIELDER AND CAPTAIN. OPEN, 28 - 33.

been doing this the longest and the hardest. expects nothing but the best. probably slept with half the team. definitely called it 'team building'. weirdly enough, it actually worked. okay person. great captain. lives. to. win.

WINGER. OPEN, 25 - 30.

talk shit get hit. started playing soccer because it was better than joining a fight club. stayed for the fame. jacked up on caffeine and cigarettes 24/7, and somehow still more fit than you. will definitely knock out your boyfriend for cheating.

CENTRE-BACK. OPEN, 22 - 27.

the 'good one', and even that's subjective. the only one who remembers to bring breakfast to early practice. can't keep a partner to save their life tho. in love with the idea of love but more in love with themselves. rotated crushes on the rest of the team. still probably does.

CENTRE MIDFIELDER. OPEN, 25 - 30.

this is the only way they're keeping a roof over their kids' heads, so you better bet they're in it for real. takes it the most serious, which is saying something. all about the warfare, and known for dirty tactics.

SWEEPER. OPEN, 24 - 29.

the smart one. definitely the strategist. makes up the game plans with the captain. 'this. is. war.' bro this is soccer??? calm down pls. a ravenclaw but, like, slytherin tendencies. doing their best and just wants to win. winning matters for a major reason.

WING-BACK. OPEN, 21 - 26.

the newest recruit. desperate to prove themselves, but the nervousness keeps making them mess up. thinks higher of themselves than everyone else does. definitely gone out for too many drinks lately as a part of 'team relationship building'. taking the hazing well. doesn't realize it's hazing.

GOALKEEPER. OPEN, 20 - 25.

recruited young, been playing their whole life. definitely the baby. takes the game seriously, but absolutely nothing else. innocent but... like a middle schooler. golden retriever meets rottweiler, and it all depends on if you're on or off the field.

DEFENSIVE MIDFIELDER. OPEN, 23 - 28.

running out of the good years. going to have to retire soon. dreading that day, and maybe pushing their luck. definitely pushing themselves harder than they should. that could come back to bite them.

WIDE MIDFIELD. OPEN, 22 - 27.

not the strongest on the team, but makes up for it by practicing the longest and hardest. was the most slighted when freya joined the squad and rose in the ranks so quickly due to natural skill. lots of envy for everyone around them, but not in a bitchy way. harder on themselves than they deserve.

FULL-BACK. OPEN, 24 - 29.

t. i. r. e. d. thinking of retiring, finding a new job. got hurt a few years ago and it healed but the ghost pains remain. isn't sure any of this is worth it anymore. finds fame overwhelming and tedious. mostly just wants a nap.

[wordsusuallykeptinside]

True North

The single greatest piece of advice my Father has even given me is, “No one is going to get you through this life but you.” He continued by telling me that all of the opinions of the other kids in high school, the losers, the weirdos, the popular kids, and even my friends, did not matter. The only person who could get me where I wanted to go in life was me. I had to do what was right for me. I think it’s safe to say that when we are in high school we are acutely and painfully aware that people around us have opinions about how we look, what we do or say and who we hang out with. Other people’s opinions at that time in our lives mean more to us than breathing. My father’s statement blew all of that a part and blew my mind in ways that I’m just starting to understand now in my 30s. He was right. None of those people had any bearing on my actual life.  The bitchy girls’ opinions and dislike of me for reasons I still don’t fully understand had absolutely no weight on how my life unfolded. My choices made things happen for me, and consequentially my choices also made things not happen for me.

 From then on I took that advice and sewed it into the very fabric of my being.What happened at first was that I carried a sort of, “I don’t give a fuck what you think” attitude. The ironic thing is, there still remained the Ego that very much cared what people thought. My mind always had to argue back and forth about if something mattered or it didn’t. I would weigh the options, analyze the data in front of me, and make a decision: “nope, I don’t care what people will think about this” or “yes, I very much care what people will think of this so let’s put it in the right light”.

 My late teens to early 20’s  were gong show of caring either too much or too little. I either gave all my fucks away or I had absolutely zero. There was rarely a middle ground. That, I found, can lead to poor decision making. When you’re too polar about things and it all kind of crumbles into people really not knowing what to think of you so they mostly just shun you.This lead to me to get to know my “inner knowing”.That’s the thing I call my gut feeling (and I’m pretty sure Glennon Doyle does too), you know, that ”YES this is absolutely what I need to do” feeling. A fact of life is that every once and while you gotta make clear decisions for yourself if you want to honor that very special inner knowing inside of you. It was in this stage of my life that I got tired of the polar madness and followed that inner knowing big-time.

 I had gone to University only to find out that the culture brought out parts of myself I really didn’t like and that that form of education was not for me. I’m not into paying an obscene amount of money to learn how to write one helluva essay, study a professor’s thesis, and on my downtime drink myself into oblivion. So I quit. I dropped out and made the first decision solely for myself with zero inkling as to what was next. Well, what happened next was that I followed my inner knowing and moved to Alberta to be with my then boyfriend, now husband. At the time people thought I was absolutely coo-coo. Like totally bat-shit crazy. If I had listened to them,  I’m quite certain I would still be living in my hometown. And to be completely honest, I’m really not sure where I would have ended up. But my inner knowing what telling me that this was a time where I couldn’t give a shit what they thought. I had to do this for me to get me where I needed to be. It was that decision that rooted my life in such a way that I got to find out so much more about myself.

 I have been in Alberta for 14 years now. In that time I have tried to be a Nutritional Consultant, Pharmacy Assistant, Sales Associate, Health Coach, MLM Star (that was a yucky period), Sign and T-Shirt Maker, and Yogi Extraordinaire. I tried all of those not because I was trying to be someone else but because I was trying to find what was “reasonable”.  What I found was through all of those careers I was learning about myself. I’m sure there are people who think I’m flaky, that I can’t stick to anything, or that I am unfocused. But I think I was brave enough to try something that I thought I really might like, to let my creativity shine, or learn something new. Now I know that it was all a process to find way back to my real purpose.  

 Here’s the thing, the more you try and fail, the more you will learn about yourself. Success rarely gives you any pearls of knowledge and it rarely teaches you anything about yourself. I don’t think I was ever learning when things were going really well for me. I was learning when I had to figure out how I was going to pick myself back up and try again or try something completely different. I truly believe trying new things really adds to the fabric of your being. It gives you more texture.  

 What I’ve learned so far is that I am a creative person. I am someone who has to make things and put them out into the world. I don’t like following other people’s rules and I don’t like making money for someone else before me. I want to be in control of my life, my time, and what I put my focus or energy into. Those are my bottom lines. And I feel nothing empowers all of those things more than writing. I think the written word is the lifeblood to all of it. So.. I’m writing. I’m calling myself a writer. God, that feels good to say!  I am a writer and I am finally putting my energy into the thing I have loved for oh, so long. I think my first diary was at 12. I started writing poetry at 13 or so, and I took every writing class I could until University. Along with drama/theatre, writing has been a longtime love affair that I just couldn’t let myself commit to because I was too busy listening to others tell me that it wasn’t the “reasonable” career. And there it was...the thing I listened to without fully realizing it. A dumb opinion. It was subtle don’t you think? That life-changing negative narrative. So subtle that I didn’t fully comprehend what I was doing until recently  It was that narrative that I cared about too much. I gave way to many fucks away to that narrative and I steered away from my own True North.

 I, like so many other people, let go of the things I loved because I believed when I was told that it wasn’t the “logical choice”.

 “There’s no way you can make real money doing that!”

 “You’ll be a starving artist.”

 … and most dreadfully, “That’s not a career that will get you anywhere in life.”

 I bought into it totally forgetting my father’s words. When all along I should have trusted in myself and my abilities. Instead of trusting my inner knowing, I wrapped myself in someone else’s belief that I should find something else to fulfill me. That lead to a lot of searching in the wrong directions. But in some weird way, it also lead to me back the truth of who I am. With every new thing that I tried and failed at, I took off a layer of false expectations. With every new avenue I traveled, I found out that I had capabilities that I didn’t know were there and that I am stronger than I ever believed.  

 It’s taken me until now to get this all somewhat figured out. Hind-sight really is 20/20, folks.  Trust me when I say I’ve analyzed this one to death. But It’s really as simple as following that inner knowing and not listening to the naysayers. Not listening to the doubt that your Ego can fill you with. Trial and error will teach you more about yourself than never trying. It will also teach you how to really listen to your own inner knowing because that’s the thing that will guide you to the path that is best for you.

 Now, I stand in my life knowing more about myself than I ever have (due to those trial and errors) and knowing my father’s words still ring true. No one is going to get me through this life but me. So I will write and I will love myself through whatever mistakes I make along the way, but I will be happy because it’s what I really, really want to do. There’s something exciting about living and “unreasonable” or “illogical” life.  What will I write about? The simple answer is I’m not sure. But it’s quotes like this that make me feel really good about my journey:

 “Nobody is rooting for you to fail.”

You may succeed. You may fail. But, for the most part, nobody cares one way or the other.

This is good. The world is big and you are small, which means you can chase your dreams with little worry for what people think.” - James Clear

[sid471]

Fate: Winx the Saga from someone who didn’t watch Winx Club

My friend made an actually GOOD post about this as someone who IS just a massive dork about Winx Club. So for a fans perspective here ya go :3 https://alric-usami.tumblr.com/post/641430679160340480/in-defense-of-fate-the-winx-saga show’im some love :3 Also unlike my friend this isn’t spoiler free. So, if you haven’t seen Fate and wanna give it a shot don’t read under the cut and if you didn’t watch Fate and you read it anyway... don’t get mad at me <_<

Now, if you’re still here, you’ve decided you don’t care about spoilers, you’ve seen the show, or haven’t seen the show and you’re stubborn <_<. Regardless, time for an opinion that doesn’t matter 😊. 

I watched all 6 episodes and gotta say that I... Actually really enjoyed it :3. I understand the complaints, the lack of diversity... kinda sucks. It’s 2021 c’mon now >_> but everything else I liked watching 😗 Though I DO wish Bloom being a Changeling was revealed later. Rather than... ya know.... the first episode. That being said, DID really like when she called her mom and dad the second time. It was a sweet moment ☺️. I’ll get more into that later :3

Now, let’s get into the nitty gritty shall we? :3

I didn’t have any expectations going in. I hadn’t seen Winx and all I knew about it, even as I write this, I got from the above mentioned friend. I knew nothing is my point lol. So, looking at it as a show rather than an adaptation, I REALLY enjoyed it. It had nice visuals, acting was solid all round, music was a little cliche at times but I still liked it 😗

SO as previously mentioned, Bloom is a changeling. And also like I said I wish that revelation had been made a little later, but I also like how the season went over all so... Hmm... Conflicted. Bloom’s turmoil after finding out the truth, I thought, was handled very well. I’m sure some people would say she like... was bitchy and closed off. Which she was 🤷🏻‍♂️ But fuckin... She’s 16 .-. Of course she’s gonna lash out >_> And also even if she WASN’T 16... She’s still finding out the people who raised her aren’t really her parents ._. Anyway, speaking of her parents, we don’t know her parents well, but I still liked them ^_^ They had a pretty good amount of sweet moments with Bloom. Like the aforementioned 2nd call scene. The one where she went back to her house and watched them? It was a very sweet talk and I loved it 🙂. Verdict: Bloom, and her parents, good 😗 :3

 Aisha, loved her and how her friendship with Bloom went ^_^. They had their rough spots, but at the end of the day they were still by each other’s side. And that’s what friendship’s about :3 Having their back even when you disagree with them 🙂 And even WHEN Bloom was being standoffish and secretive, Aisha made the effort to say “Hey. You can talk to me about anything. You know that right?” And you can tell it’s heartfelt and just ;-; ya know? :3 Though, admittedly, was a little iffy when she snitched to Farah but it worked out 😗. ALSO! Her protecting Bloom while she transformed? First of all, amazing sequence 😁 Second of all, that scene showed that even if Bloom is being reckless and, well, a main character lol, Aisha will have her back. And if you don’t have a best friend who’ll support you even when you’re acting like a Fantasy Main Character, what’s the point >_> Also side note, I LOVED that transformation sequence so much? I really like how they did it. I like that it didn’t... well... feel like a cartoon. Because like this ISN’T a cartoon. An over the top transformation LIKE an animation woulda been outta place and weird .-. Anyway, Verdict: We stan Aisha here :3

Terra. Oh Terra I just... Adore her ☺️ she’s so so so cute and sweet ^_^ She doesn’t deserve how Dane treated her >_> I’ll get to Dane in a little bit. But yeah Terra is just adorable. How can you NOT like her? She’s an adorable bad ass. Who doesn’t love an adorable bad ass :3 Verdict: Terra gets a million hugs from me :3

Stella. I’m not gonna lie, I was fully ready for Stella to be a stereotypical mean girl and was disappointed when it looked like that was the route they were going. But then they gave Stella ✨depth✨. Which we love to see ^_^. Stella surprised me with how much I ended up liking her. Stella was taught that negative emotions are all that matter in magic, which obviously isn’t true, but her mother is an arrogant bitch who only sees power >_> When Stella was telling Musa the story of how she blinded Ricki, she said that it was an accident and she didn’t mean to, but her mother thought it was better for her if everyone thought it was on purpose. Because “At least if it was on purpose, I wasn’t weak.”. So Queen Luna sucks <_< Which I know isn’t the case in the cartoon but in this she does. I actually like that they SHOWED that kind of strained relationship.

I saw it as kind of a foil to Bloom’s relationship with HER mother. Bloom and her mom had a somewhat negative relationship too, because Bloom wanted to stay inside and was pretty reclusive, mood, which her mom didn’t like so she tried to force her to go out. But the difference between Vanessa and Luna is that Vanessa DOES care about Bloom and listened to her. Luna, even when Stella TRIED to tell her a feat she considered great, blinding the Burned One, which IS great and awesome ^_^ But the Queen still wasn’t impressed. Verdict: Stella had a rocky start, but I love her now :3.... And Queen Luna... Not so much >_> She’s a bitch and not even like... a fun bitch <_< Although the revelation that because Luna and Stella are both Light fairies they can “control what people see” was not something I considered and it was REALLY cool.

Musa! I... Kinda resonated with Musa a lot actually. I may not have empathic powers that let me feel people’s emotions, but I know what she went through with her mom. My mom is still alive, thankfully, but she could’ve died from a stroke had I not acted. It was 2 years ago now, but I still think about what could’ve happened. And it’s noooot fun >_>. Anyway, back to Musa. Musa being an empath is something I really enjoyed. Honestly, I think I’d prefer empath!Musa over sound!Musa even if the latter is closer to canon. I just think Musa is an awesome character ^_^. I also loved how she steeled herself and helped Sam with the Burned One infection. That was honestly beautifully done. She may not be the most useful in a fight, but you don’t have to fight to be a bad bitch that’s what I say 😙. Verdict: Musa is a kin character :3

Beatrix. This bitch.... I adore her she’s so FUCKING cool! I love a good villain, if you’ve stumbled across my page before you know that lol, and Beatrix ticks everything I need to be character to add to my stan list. Watching her do her thing is like... It’s art ._. She fuckin EXPERTLY goes from Farah fangirl, to diligent student, to Riven’s girl, to ruthless villain and I LOVE that! I love a villain who’s both strong and smart :3 Especially if they’re female because I like bad bitches doing bad bitch things ^_^ Verdict, if it wasn’t clear: LOVE her. Amazing. Onto the Stan List she goes :3

Dane. *sigh* Dane... Is a character I have complicated feelings for >_>. I liked him a lot at first. I liked him and Terra’s friendship they were adorable :3 But then uh... Then Riven fucked him up <_< Listen man I agree Riven is hot but he ain’t worth hurting the first friend you ever made <_> Although a Riven, Dane, Beatrix throuple situation...... Is something I could get behind 👀. Because Dane likes both Riven and Beatrix, Riven likes Beatrix, and Beatrix... Is blatantly just using them but hey better to have 2 boyfriends who’ll do whatever you want than none 😊 Verdict: ... I liked him at first, thought him and Terra would be dorky friends, but then uh.... no >_> Terra deserves better <_<

Riven. Hate’im. Hate’im, hate’im, hate’im 🙄. He may be friends with the bi Dane but he REEKS... of homophobic jock energy. Of “I’m cool if you’re gay man just don’t hit on me dude.” vibes >_> Which like... I know seems ironic considering he literally flirted with Dane. But like... I dunno he just has so much homophobic energy it just... cancels out 😶. “But you JUST said you’d be okay with a Dane, Riven, Beatrix throuple” I did. And I still stand by that. But Riven would need some work before that <_< Like... an arc of him coming to terms with himself having feelings for both Dane AND Beatrix. y’know like that. I think it’d be cool. :3 Verdict: Riven sucks, but has a little bit 🤏 of potential. Also, all that being said, I don’t think Riven is REALLY a bad dude. I just think..... He wants Beatrix’s puss a little too much <_<

Sky. Sky... Is... Fine. He’s a fine character. I didn’t really feel a LOT for him. I just thought of him as Bloom’s love interest and like that’s it. Don’t get me wrong, he had some sad moments and I felt for him in those moments. But overall... Sky was just... fine. Verdict: He’s okay. I don’t really have a lotta feelings about him though.

Headmistress Farah Dowling. PHEW my feelings toward Farah... were a bit of a rollercoaster. I liked her, then I didn’t, then I was suspicious of her, then I liked her again, then she got her neck snapped.... soooo. But, that being said, I DO like Farah and I hope that she’s alive somehow in Season 2 :3. I like the variety in her powers. She has water, electricity, mind, maybe even fire, we love the variety ^_^ I was gonna say diversity but that’s kind of a sensitive word here. Verdict: Farah is an old baddie. And we love to see it 😗

Headmaster Silva. He... gives me Atlesian vibes >_>... I know fans of winx won’t know what I’m talking about, unless ya also watch RWBY. But with how he kept saying to Sky like “when you’re given orders you follow them without question.”, little hypocritical huh buddy, rubbed me the wrong way <_< Especially BECAUSE, yeah, it’s a little hypocritical when he didn’t follow his orders from Rosalind. Which I would also defy her orders, but then when YOU defy orders for the greater good, don’t then spread “Follow orders no matter what >_>”. Which, okay before you say it, I KNOW that he defied orders for the sake of saving the, seemingly innocent, people of Aster Dell, and they still died. But still... Spreading the follow orders no matter what thing is just kinda... an over correction, in my opinion at least. Verdict: Silva is... Okay. I like him... enough ya know? I like’im enough to hope he comes back to Alfea.

Rosalind. Rosalind... Is a villain with a lotta potential. I like her a lot so far. She’s obviously very powerful, and she seems... to wanna help Bloom? I mean for her own selfish gain of obtaining the Dragon Fire but still... A villain who partially wants to HELP the hero, is kinda interesting 😗 Also, I like how ruthless she can be. I knew she manipulative like straight from the memory that Bloom had. I immediately was like “I don’t trust this old lady >_>” But her levitating Farah and SNAPPING her neck... Oof. Chills. Verdict: I look forward to seeing where she goes :3

Final Conclusion: Fate: Winx the Saga, purely as a show, is very good in my opinion. whether you’ve watched Winx Club or not, I suggest giving it a try and going in with an opened mind. You may even find a new favorite show :3... Okay that may be pushing it lol. But it’s very good if you like fantasy, magic, and bad ass female characters 😗

[logicalbookthief]

ʌ: for clown movie

^: comfort after a nightmare

Wow this took a lot longer than I thought, I apologize! Work has been blegh lately and my writer’s block was strong. Nevertheless, I thank you for the prompt and hope you enjoy!

It’s a sort of sequel to my fic “Placebo” that isn’t necessary to read before this but would definitely help. All you really need to know is that it takes place in a universe where Eddie is Carrie White’s cousin and has the same telekinetic powers. 

*

*

"I'm not afraid." 

For once, it’s the truth. Eddie has never felt more powerful than he does here, among the ruins of It’s hiding place, where It lurked for centuries, millennia, gnawing on the bones of children, biding its time for the day It would feed again. The memory of this place terrified him for years-- even when he couldn’t remember, the fear was embedded in his mind. 

Now it’s shattering under the strength of Eddie’s will, destroyed by the sheer force of his mind, and the feeling is-- he can’t describe--

The weak, shriveled form of the clown tries to rally. Eddie squares his jaw, focuses on pinning It down, harder, merciless, refusing to give an inch. "I’m not afraid,” he repeats, the taste of blood in his mouth, hot as it slips down his face. “Not of you." 

The clown laughs-- it’s a raspy, death rattle. Still, Eddie tenses, a sense of doubt creeping past the smolder of anger, the self-righteous flaring through his whole body. 

"Even now I can feel it, that delicious reek of fear,” It smirks, a lopsided grimace turned smug. “Not of me, no. I already know what you are.” 

Gulping, Eddie falters. Only for a moment, the flare dousing to a mere spark. 

"I’ve always known,” It croaks, hoarse and almost unheard above the sound of the cavern as it crumbles. “But do they know, Eddie?” 

Carrie, her hair a tangled mass of flames, her dress a flowing wave of red. Her eyes are nearly electric, a frenzied flash of light that-- and, suddenly, Eddie’s staring at a reflection of himself, manic and panting, bathed in the blood of his tormentor.

“Do they know what you are?”

Eddie springs up, dislodging the sheets curled around his body, gasping for the air caught in his throat. His heart jackhammers against his ribcage, trying to claw out from under the heavy weight atop his chest.

Beside of him in bed, Richie stirs with a low, drowsy groan. Ridiculously long legs disentangle under the blanket. He’s amazed they manage to fit together most nights, what with how much of Richie there is to fit, and how Eddie tends to sprawl if not contained by his boyfriend's octopus-like embrace.

His boyfriend. Now there’s a word he never thought he’d be able to use sincerely. However, there’s no mistaking the realness of Richie as he shifts closer in search of Eddie, even in his half-asleep state.  

"Eds?" he calls in that scratchy voice reserved for the early hours of the morning. Frankly, a freshly-woken Richie is a sight to behold. Even as kids waking up in the Denbroughs’ den, Eddie’s guilty pleasure was waking before his best friend so as to catch a glimpse of Richie as he roused. 

With his glasses askew, his tousled hair a mess, his mouth slightly parted in the memory of a snore. As an adult, the sight’s no less appealing -- if anything, that half-lidded gaze staggers him more, now that he’s aware of the soft, unguarded affection that lingers behind it.

"You okay?" Richie persists, squinting without his glasses.

"Mhm," Eddie replies, muffled by his fingers as they scrub at his face, clearing the remnants of the nightmare.

Unconvinced, Richie struggles into a sitting position. Propped against the headboard, he sizes up Eddie far too easily for someone who can barely see. "Bad dream?" 

Too exhausted to form an answer, Eddie slumps backwards, colliding with Richie’s chest. Flush against each other, he can hear Richie’s breath stutter over the shell of his ear. Six months since Eddie moved in to Richie’s sunny LA apartment, the Derry hospital discharge band still around his wrist and Bev’s divorce lawyer saved to his phone, and sometimes they forget that this is allowed -- this closeness. This idea they can finally have what they want and not be hurt by it, by anyone.

Loving Richie is muscle memory, so natural it may as well be encoded in his DNA. Knowing that he has Richie, and can love Richie freely without hiding who he is, well-- that’s still a wonder, no matter how often Richie whispers the words against his skin. 

Eddie knows this, not only in his mind but in his heart, and yet... He’s perplexed. Besides the Losers, he’s never known a love without conditions. A love that wasn’t dependent on his willingness, his obedience. It’s easy with Richie and harder for the same reason. 

Once it registers that he’s got an lapful of a boyfriend, Richie winds an arm around Eddie and crushes him to the broad expanse of his chest. Hooks his chin over his shoulder and nuzzles his cheek like an over-excited dog. 

“Baby, you’re kind of warm,” he murmurs, two-days worth of stubble scraping fondly over Eddie’s cheek.

The attention sends a shiver down his spine, but it ends in a shudder as Eddie remembers the heat of the flames as they licked his face, smoke curling into his lungs. Was it his face -- or hers? -- the fire a distant heat compared to the warm blood soaking her dress, her clothes, eyes listless as they carnage rages around her, the destruction she -- or he, was it him? -- the cavern collapsing around him as It huffed out its last, dismal breath--

His lungs expand, vainly searching for space to breathe. Eddie wriggles out of Richie’s hold, trying to hide the desperate beat of his pulse. “Fucking California heat,” he mumbles, evasively. “Has me all.. Sweaty.”

New York contains many, many years worth of bad memories, but if there’s one thing he misses, it’s the cold nights. Though if he had to choose between the lonely dark of the guestroom where he slept instead of aside his wife or the comfort of Richie’s bed -- well, that’s hardly even a question.

“Did you wanna, ah..."  Flummoxed, Richie wavers over his next words. "Talk?"

It's a song and dance they've done before. A sliver of guilt pierces Eddie through the shields he’s barricaded around this particular issue. How many times has he startled awake and dragged Richie out of sleep -- and then, to add insult to injury, decline the invitation to talk?  

After Richie barred his soul and revealed the initials he carved into the Kissing Bridge, despite the threat of bullies and rejection, it seems hypocritical to keeps his darkest secrets under lock and key. 

Not for the first time, Eddie aches for his pills. He’s kicked the habit, endured the worst of the withdrawal, bears the occasional migraine with no complaint. But in moments like these the urge is almost too much to ignore. 

You’ll feel better, Dr. Silas cajoles, a venomous promise in his ear. Don’t you want to be normal?

It triggers a memory-- the pills in his palm, his mouth parted to swallow, but the desperation of Richie’s screams, the horror in the eyes of his friends. No, Eddie snaps. Of course he wants to be normal. Wants to have a normal life with his boyfriend. 

But he wants it to be real. No more placebos.

"Oh-kay. If you’re sure," Richie sounds uncertain, but he’s unwilling to cross the boundaries Eddie has firmly set. Eddie falls a little bit more in love with him for that. "Then it’s back to bed with you, guvnah!”

Usually the British voice anywhere near the vicinity of their bed drew a protest from Eddie -- it catches in his throat when Richie him swings him flat on his back, the bulk of his body sprawled between Eddie’s legs. He blushes to the roots of his hair, clutching at the wide expanse of Richie’s shoulders, fingers digging into soft skin and the tendons of muscle underneath. 

If he scowls, it’s a dismal attempt to hide how hopelessly turned on he is by every aspect of this ridiculous man.

"Otherwise, you'll be bitchy as fuck for the flight tomorrow.” His sigh blows against Eddie's hair. "And you know how much that turns me on."

Eddie sputters.

"God, you ever travel for upwards of six hours with a boner? Would not recommend, 0/10."

"Rich!" he scolds, which is hard to do when you're spasming with laughter.

"Unless," Richie continues, slyly, "Eds, you minx. You want to join the Mile-High club with me?"

"Richie," Eddie coughs, truly on his way to a ruptured lung. Hopelessly fond as he orders, "Shut up and go to sleep."

He waits until the chuckles peter out, eventually replaced by soft, even breaths. Carefully, Eddie twists out of Richie’s embrace. The soles of his slippers drag along the carpet as he shuffles to the kitchen.

The piles of dishes Richie convinced him to leave for later in favor of more amorous activities -- and to be perfectly honest, Eddie was easy to convince -- sits in the sink. Picking up the dish soap, Eddie figures he may as well be proactive in his insomnia.

Aunt Margaret used to say, Idle hands are the devil’s playthings. It was maybe the single coherent, non-hateful advice she ever gave. 

He’s halfway through the mess and elbow deep in sudsy water when Richie wanders in, stretching. “I thought we had an agreement,” he yawns. “Whoever isn’t accosted by trauma-fueled nightmares gets to make breakfast.”

Ducking his head around a smile, Eddie shrugs. “Too restless to sleep. The thought of you forgetting to pack underwear on this trip haunted my dreams.”

"Ooh, say that again," Richie moans, slotting their hips together from behind. Despite his playful tone, Eddie feels the half-stir of morning wood. "Slower this time."

Eddie shoves playfully at his chin. "Seriously," he huffs. "Our flight's only in a couple of hours and I know you haven't finished packing!"

"Our flight's in eight hours," Richie points out, which is met by a dubious eyebrow raise. "That is plenty of--"

"How many pairs of underwear do you currently have in your suitcase?"

There’s a long, unconscionable pause. 

"Fuck!" Richie snaps his fingers. "Knew there was something I forgot."

One of those rare instances where he isn't joking.

"You're pushing me toward an asthma attack," Eddie deadpans. "Please go pack."

Richie leaves a wet, slobbering kiss on his cheek that Eddie only half-pretends to hate. “Anything you say, darling."

Once he’s gone, Eddie can focus at the task at hand. He glances sidelong at a coffee mug that’s slightly out of reach. Retrieving it isn’t a hassle so much as an inconvenience, since his hands are damp with dishwater and the closest rag is across the room. 

You could do it another way, reminds the quiet voice in back of his head that Eddie’s spent the last twenty-years trying to suppress. Long before that, really. Since the day his mother told him what his cousin-- what Eddie was. 

Do you know what you are?

Eddie bristles. Fuck that clown. Fuck the idea that It has any lingering sway over his life. His mother, too. And those doctors, all those doctors and their tests, their experiments, their pills. Nobody can choose for him anymore. He’s in control of his life. 

Despite this conviction, Eddie dawdles. Strains his ears. He can hear Richie clunking around in their bedroom, a safe distance away. I’m alone, he thinks bracingly. I’m alone, so there’s no harm in...

He shuts his eyes, concentrating. The mug rattles, as though gently prodded by an unseen force. Slowly, carefully, Eddie relinquishes the vice-like grip of the leash wrapped tight around his mind, bit by bit. 

The mug slides along the counter, until it hovers over the edge. It does not fall. Eddie feels a prick of satisfaction tingle at the base of his neck.

I’m not afraid, Eddie thinks with a rush of spite. Remembering his dream, the clown’s laughter a fresh in his memory, he pushes the mug faster. I am not--

"Hey, Eds, did you-?"

The mug smashes against the ground, shattering. Pieces fly out, scattering across the floor. All sharp edges.

"Shit!" Eddie panics. "Don't step over here, the shards–"

Hastily, he reaches for a handful of glass, as if cleaning up the evidence will hide what he’s done.

What were you thinking, you freak? You could've hurt him or--

"Eddie.” That’s Richie's voice calling to him, soft and urgent. 

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I'll--” He’s babbling, the words choked, constricted, while sweat pools at the base of his neck and his hands shake with the effort to shove it all down, deep, deep down where nobody can see-- 

"Eddie!" Richie shouts. His face comes into focus near inches from his, eyes, wild with worry. "Calm down, it's okay. It's okay, see? Just a stupid mess.”

A mess you made, Eddie thinks viciously. Now he's seen, he's seen and he'll run, he'll leave, because you're a–

"C'mon, Eds,” Richie murmurs, both a plea and a demand. Trembling fingers tangle with his own, the bite of Richie’s knuckles as he presses their palms against his ribcage steadying Eddie in the present. “You've got to breathe for me.”

Only then does Eddie realize how rapidly it’s rising, and how difficult it is to inhale. Buoyed by the constant stream of Richie’s assurances, Eddie begins to count his breaths, focuses on the movement of his and Richie’s hands as he breathes once twice, in and out. He judges his success by the tightness of Richie’s frown. 

"Sorry," Eddie croaks once he can speak again. It feels as if the shards are lodged in his throat.

"Don't apologize," says Richie, a furrow nestling between his brows. He keeps his tone level, likely more worried than he lets on, but the lack of panic is what’s grounding Eddie and he’s appreciates it more than words will convey. "Do you need me to-- What do you need?”

Eddie shakes his head. Tears prick at his eyes and he bites down on the tide of pleas that threaten to overwhelm him. You, I need you. I need you not to leave me once you figure out what I am.

"You know I don't care if you use your Matilda whammy." Richie makes a show of squinting his eyes. Eddie chokes on a stilted laugh. Richie seems to sag in relief 

"It doesn’t change a thing for me,” he reminds, nudging Eddie softly. “You understand, right?" 

Eddie swallows, thickly. He doesn't trust his voice, so he nods, the reply burrowed into Richie's chest. He kisses his clavicle once, twice in gratitude.

"What were you going to ask before?"

"Uh," Richie hedges. "Do you know where all my clean underwear is?"

Again, Eddie laughs. Helplessly. "Fucking Christ, Rich, I told you: a man needs more than seven pairs of underwear."

"I resent that. I have more," Richie sniffs. "They're just not as sexy as my gluteus maximoose pair. Which, as you know, I reserve for all special occasions."

"You're fucking ridiculous, is what you are," Eddie chuckles. "I'll fold the laundry after I clean this up."

"Let me do that,” Richie insists, shooing him toward the bedroom. “You can shower first.”

Chewing his lip, Eddie hesitates.

"Are you wearing shoes?" Richie gestures impatiently at his moccasins. "Alright... Just be careful with the glass."

“Like you were?” Catching Eddie by the wrist, Richie frowns down at his palm. A thin slice below his thumb, the blood a steady ooze. 

"Oh," says Eddie, woozily. The prick of pain didn't even register. "I'll go, um. Wash this in the bathroom."

He ignores the feeling of Richie’s eyes on his back as he hustles the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him. He’s ignored a lot of things, lately. 

The familiar yet nameless numbers on the cellphone he ultimately chucked. The decreasing amount of frantic calls from his ex-wife. The urge to tell Richie and the Losers every awful truth Eddie’s spent his entire adult life burying so deep that not even he has to confront it, ever.

At the sink, Eddie avoids his own reflection. Under the spray of water, the blood washes off effortlessly. As if it never happened. Wash your hands, Eddie. Like a good boy. His mother always repeated the order, ad nauseam. Like if he scrubbed hard enough, it would be as if the all the dirty, unclean parts of him she feared had never existed. 

For all her lies, Eddie wishes it was that easy. 

[sanderssides-springfling]

A little message for you! This is one of my (admittedly embarrassing) first attempts at fanfic writing. May not be up to par with your expectations, but I hope you can enjoy it, at least a little. I also hope you’re having a safe and healthy quarantine! Sending love wherever you are!!

for @remusownsmyuwus

-Jade

- ~ • ~ -

Thomas knew that there was no way his house could be this dark in the middle of the day. There was no logical explanation for the way none of the sunlight from outside the window entered the room. But the bright red numbers obnoxiously confirmed that it was indeed noon. This has to be some kind of dream. Roman’s creations tend to have a theme.

Unless… someone else was in charge tonight.

~

Something was… definitely off.

Roman liked to pretend that he held complete creative control over the “Dreamscape”, but every side knew that all of them shared ownership of it. They all played a role in creating dreams, whether it be memory recollection, image creation, emotion and sense replication, or creative input (whether good or bad).

Remus. Whenever something went wrong in there, it was always Remus.

The ones who took care of the dreams tended to rotate between Roman and Remy. Roman was there to add his touch, and Remy went in to keep him knocked out for as long as possible. Remus was decidedly not included in this rotation, but he always found a way in anyway.

Which led to the unfortunate situation Roman found himself in.

The minute he sensed the distance in the Dreamscape, he leapt from his relaxed position on the couch. Virgil raised an eyebrow, but Roman dashed out of the room before he could be questioned. Stumbling up to the bland door, he put his hand on the knob. As he entered, the door lit up in a deep red, signaling Roman’s entry.

He was in a rush, so it was no shock that he didn’t notice the dull gray coating on the otherwise white door, signaling someone else’s entrance.

~

Being buried underneath the floorboards of his living room was not how Thomas wanted to spend this unusually dark afternoon.

~

Surprisingly, neither did Remus.

Remus has always known that there was an imbalance of creative control ever since he and Roman were split. However, he assumed that it extended only within the borders of the awake mind of Thomas.

Well, he has been wrong many times before.

Once he saw that his dork of a brother wasn’t inside the esteemed dreamscape, he saw his only chance to do his job properly, without outside interference.

He was wrong again.

Which led to the position he was in now, unwillingly acting out the dream scenario that was created by… someone. Remus wasn’t even sure if this was his doing. All he knew was that he wanted out, right that second. He was uncomfortable lying down with barely any room to breath. Worst of all, his knee itched! He wasn’t yet at the point of panicking, but he was getting pretty goddamn close.

Before he could fall into a complete state of hyperventilation, he heard a far off door open with a creak. Footsteps became louder as the person made his way over to the coffin, which Remus assumed looked just as deliciously disgusting as when he first entered it. The smell was still there.

Who else but Roman to spoil his fun. To be fair, Remus wasn’t having much fun at the moment, even if this place reeked more than him. This was decidedly not what he meant by strong suit.

“Snap out of it, dimwit!” Yep, definitely Roman.

“I can’t, fuck-face!” Remus shouts back. Oh, how much Remus wished he could. Remus swore that if he could see his brothers face, he’d-

“This is not how I wanted to spend my work hours, double R”

A third voice very rudely interrupted his train of thought. He could automatically tell it belonged to a certain bitchy side from the other side of the mind. Remy’s voice was the most distinct out of everyone.

Remus could practically hear the eye-roll from his brother. “Work hours? What work have you ever done?”

He actually heard the dramatized sigh that came from Remy, and he knew Roman was in for it. “The only reason you have this space is because I keep Thomathy knocked out. It’s a stressful job, babes.” Remy emphasized with a shake of his near-empty cup, which Remus knew was black, seeing as he was tired from actually doing his job. “Hey uh… Ray and Mi? You mind lending a hand?”

Roman scoffs. “Absolutely not. You got yourself and Thomas into this mess, no? You’ll be fine as long as you end the dream sequence.”

“Naive little prince.”

“Excuse me?”

Remus could plainly imagine Remy lifting his glasses to the top of his head and peering at Roman like the bland insect he was. “I’m only saying that you have the control,” Remy said. “You’ve had it since you labeled you and your boyfriends the light sides.”

They were silent, and Remus was getting fed up of not being able to move. All he could hear were footsteps. Footsteps that were only moving farther away. And then coming closer. Something snapped, and suddenly light flooded into the dark casket. Remy leaned over to look in, and begrudgingly held out a hand to help Remus out. “Honestly, what would you do without me, Mus?”

“By the looks of it, be suffocated in a coffin and eaten by worms, apparently.” Remus half-joked. Remy led him to the door, and with a wave of his hand, the lights went off, and the set seemed to vanish. “Tommy won’t remember anything, don’t sweat.” Remy explained. “Aww, too bad. He’s had too many restful nights now that Virgin stopped being a little bi-” A glare from Remy made him pause. “-iiieautiful side who can do no wrong?” Remy’s glare hardened, before breaking off into a burst of laughter. “Ok, ok. Virgil and I do not vibe, but it’s best to stay on his good side, right? Don’t want Pops to come after us.”

Remus cackled as the two made their way out of the room, the door blackening as it closed. Remus stopped just outside with the most wonderfully-awful idea.

“Hey Starlight, wanna go hunting for giant snapping turtles?”

“Yeah, you definitely need to get some sleep, babes.”

[cruecifymesixx]

Love and Leather /part sixxty/

Word Count: 5k

A/N: The moment of truth. Enjoy!

Warnings: angst, booze, language, drug use

Taglist: @xstarryeyes , @aryssav , @miserablecunt , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol , @fandomshit6000, @anntheboneless, @venus-calum, @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @are-we-real, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland, @awesomealmostdopestudent @romanticvengeance , @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox, @brooklyn-antiques, @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @lunamadhatter99, @broke-n-bitchy @slowandangry, @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @swoopygorl, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001, @wheresmyvodkabitch, @waywardprincess666, @malibubarbievince, @iluvmesomemarvelndc,@vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer@electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london, @miss2001babe, @nassauartist @emmaelizabeth2014, @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx, @cranberribread, @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe,  @kellysimagines @thoughtsoftheantagonist @marvelismylifffe, @sleepyjunhong @lovemythsworld @meetthesixxter @sparxx27 @gingerspicetalks @kaitieskidmore1 @unknownoblivion @siliwanoel @nevergoodenuffbutokaaayyy @sublimeprincesswasteland, @zoenicoles, @thanks2pete, @xpoisonousrosesx, @brideofdraculana, @love-struck-aries, @lavendersoundbarrier, @oskea93, @idumpyourgrass​, @minxtruck​, @i-want-to-shoot-myself​, @xsixxx​, @fentitrbl​, @cruesixxlover1991​, @arianareirg​

-May 23rd, 1995-

He ran his ringed fingers through his jet black hair, removing the remaining droplets of rain from the top of his head. He glanced around the strip club. They all looked the same to him. Dimmed red lights, cheap black leather booths and tables with chairs that had torn patches of fabric. And of course, his own songs were playing throughout the speakers of the strippers dance. Cigarette smoke replaced the oxygen as he pulled himself onto a chair at the bar.

Old habits die hard. He looked around seeing bartenders were busy catering too the other patrons of the strip club. He rubbed his face before looking down at the wedding ring as he took it off and put it in his pocket. His marriage to Brandi was a sham. He knew it. Brandi knew it. His band mates knew it. The whole world knew it.

He sighed deeply, Times like these she always popped into his head. It was the universes way of saying ‘fuck you, Nikki. You’re down in the dumps? Oh, let’s make it worse by flooding your brain with her face and the way you seemed to fuck everything up with her.’

He hoped she was better off without him.

Vanity stood in the bathroom, dumping a line of cocaine on the counter, holding a nostril shut and snorting it. She rubbed her nose while looking at herself in the mirror. Or, what used to be her. Her sweet hazel eyes that were usually golden were dark and murky. Vanity Blackwood was still convinced she didn’t have a problem. She functioned in society. She had a job. She had a roof over her head. She was still able to provide everything for her daughter.

She railed another line quickly before glancing down at her watch and seeing she was ten minutes late getting back from her break. She splashed some water on her face, wiping off the residue from the counter before walking out of the bathroom.

Vanity walked through the narrow hallway to get back to the bar. She stopped in her tracks, eyes widening at the picture of deflated jet black hair that rested on the shoulders of a leather jacket. She stared at him as he looked down at the counter of the bar, tapping his fingers against the wood. It was getting harder for her to breathe.

Vanity glanced around for another bartender to deal with him, but they were all busy tending to other customers. She exhaled through her mouth as she tightened her high pony tail. She walked behind the bar, unlocking the small gate with a key as she walked over to the fridge and handed him a water bottle.

“That’s two dollars.” She mustered up the courage to speak as she waited for him to look at her. She saw that sinful smirk play on his lips.

Nikki noticed dark green painted nails clutching a water bottle as she sat it in front of him, “Thought water was free. Do I fucking look like I want-“ Nikki’s eyes finally met hers, as they widened. He took everything about her in. Not much had changed to him. Her hair now had blonde undertones against the caramel strands, she had a little gold nose ring. She wasn’t wearing any make up and she looked beautiful that way to him.

“Van…” He spoke softly as he blinked repeatedly, hoping this wasn’t just a fucking dream.

Vanity shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself, “The uh, owner charges for everything…”

Vanity felt herself become insecure as she saw his eyes travel down her body, he didn’t make a point to hide it either. His eyes glanced over the dark green leather tube top that pushed the girls up and down to the high waisted tight acid washed jeans.

“Do…do you want something else?” She asked, her curiosity getting the best of her, “Thought you were suppose to stick with the sober thing.”

Nikki let out an amused grunt, bringing a cigarette up to his lips and lighting it, “Just get me a jack and coke, please.”

Vanity stared at him for a moment before turning her back to him and starting to make it, still feeling his eyes burning holes into her body.

She placed the glass down on top of a napkin, “That’s five dollars.”

“Thought it would’ve been on the house.” Nikki chuckled. He held up a fifty dollar bill as she took it from his fingertips, “Keep the change.”

She nods, breaking it down as she put the change in a tip jar for the other bartenders. She glanced at him, seeing he was already looking at her as he took a sip.

“So, New York huh?” Nikki chuckled to himself as she nodded, “Ye-Yeah New York…”

He watched her every move, how he could tell their interaction was making her nervous, “Didn’t take you for a New York type of girl. They’re too posh even for someone like you.”

“I like it here. It’s different and far away from you.” She snapped quickly as Nikki smiled in return.

Nikki licked a drop of booze from his lip, “I can feel the love.” He smirked, “Got a boyfriend? Maybe a husband?” He questioned, eyes wandering down to her hand as the only ring he saw was a sliver band wrapped around her thumb.

”Yeah, I uh…I have a boyfriend.”

Nikki nodded, taking a sip of his drink as he hated himself for even bringing it up. A twinge of jealousy went through him, the thought of some man touching her body the way he used to touch her. A different guy taking care of her the way she deserved to be taken care of, but little did he know that wasn’t really the case.

“Congrats on getting married.” Vanity pulled him from his thoughts as he looked up at her. He forced a smile, feeling sick to his stomach.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Vanity studied his poker face, and was he playing it well. It wasn’t her concern anymore and she quickly moved on. She fumbled with the silver ring on her thumb as her eyes met his for a quick second before looking away, “Are you in the city long?”

He nodded, “A few weeks, needed to get away from L.A. for a bit.”

Vanity nodded, clearing her throat. Maybe this is just a one time thing. She’d see him tonight and never see him again. She wouldn’t have to tell him, ‘Hey Nikki, not only did you cheat on me and ruin our relationship but I was pregnant when you did so and now you have a five year old daughter!’

“Well, enjoy the city. Try to see the Statue of Liberty or take a stroll through Central Park.”

“Hey baby. I’m on my break. You want to go outside for a bit?” Nikki turned around when Jason walked up the bar. He leaned against it as Vanity smiled at him. Nikki rolled his eyes, taking a long sip as the two mingled.

“Just came back from mine. Plus, a customer.” She motioned to Nikki as Jason finally acknowledged him. He eyed Nikki immediately, already knowing who he was.

“You good?” Jason questioned as Vanity nodded.

“Find me when you have a free moment.” Jason reached across the bar, hand gripping her chin as he gave her a deep kiss. Nikki turned his head to the stage, wanting to avoid the couples interaction.

“I will.” She mumbled sweetly before Jason pecked her lips again, his eyes meeting Nikki’s when he pulled away from her lips.

“Seems like a great guy.” Nikki grumbled to himself when Jason left.

Vanity chose to ignore it as she glanced back at him, “Jason’s a bouncer here.” Nikki nodded as he took another sip, “Are you using too?” She asked. Yeah, she already knew from Tommy that he was, but she wanted to hear him say it himself.

Nikki shook his head, “Not heroin if that’s what you’re asking…I did dabble in blow at the beginning and again still from time to time.”

Vanity frowned, “You shouldn’t be doing that.”

Nikki smiled at her attempt to care, “I know, doll. But it’s been rough and it’s really not all the time…”

Well, for once, you’re doing better than me.

Vanity poured a shot of tequila before quickly downing in, taking a bite out of a lime wedge right after, “You want another drink?” She asked pointing to his now empty glass.

“One more drink?” Nikki pauses, glancing at her as he finished off his drink, “I’m staying at this hotel…if you ever just wanna talk or whatever. You don’t have too.”

“I don’t want too.” She quickly shut him down as she killed the twinkle of hope in his eyes. Vanity grabbed a tall glass as she squirts a few pumps of honey along the rim and inside of the cup. She adds a few ice cubes, a splash or two of coke and a whole lot of Jack Daniels. It’s topped off with two maraschino cherries.

“It’s my specialty, it’s pretty popular here.” Vanity explained putting it down on a coaster as she pointed to a sign above her head.

Nikki smiles, “The Mötley?” He chuckles to himself as she nodded, “Yeah, kinda sweet but will burn all the way down.”

He smirked, taking a cherry and popping it into his mouth, “Hm, seems fitting-“ he takes a sip, tasting the sweetness from the honey and then then warm feeling from the whiskey, “-It’s good. Not usually a fan of sweet drinks.”

Vanity smiles, thanking him silently, “I also make amazing margaritas on Thursdays for our happy hour.”

His eyebrow raised, “Thursday’s? I’ll have to come back then.”

Vanity shook her head, “Please don’t. This right here is more than enough.”

Nikki smirked as he let out an amused laugh, “Can’t ban me from a strip club, Vanity.”

“Yeah, but I can make sure Jason doesn’t let you in.” Vanity said, chewing on her bottom lip as she stared at him. Nikki became quickly upset as he shut up and took a sip of his drink.

“I start my shift at eleven on Thursday. It’s a strawberry kiwi margarita, I usually have a lot of older woman come in to have it. It’s strange.”

Nikki smiled as he rolled his eyes, “So I can see you again?”

She sighed, biting her thumb nail as she looked across the counter at him, “Why do you even want to see me again?” She questioned, pouring another shot of tequila and repeating the motion of grabbing a lime and sucking the juice out of it.

Nikki smiled, wiping a drip of the honey away from the glass before licking it off his finger, “What? You don’t want to see me again?”

She let out a scoff, “Bold of you to ask that, Nikki.” She rolled her eyes before looking at him again, “Are you happy?”

Nikki sighed, leaning back against the chair as he stared at her, “Are we going to be honest? Because I’m not. I haven’t been truly happy in a long time.” Nikki confided as he took a sip of the cocktail.

Vanity nods, looking away from him as she wipes down the mess on the bar, “I’m sorry you’re not happy.” She mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

He shook his head, scoffing at her comments, “Neither are you.”

She rolled her eyes at him, and his heart damn near exploded. He didn’t think he’d miss her attitude so much, “I am actually very happy.”

He smirked, “You’ve never been to good at lying.”

She broke the intense gaze as she shook her head. She glanced up at the clock on the wall and saw that it was almost three in the morning and that meant the club was closing soon, “We close in an hour, so I need you to go so I can start cleaning.”

Nikki chugged the rest of his drink before handing the glass over to her, “You live close?”

She glared at him, “Don’t worry about where I live.”

Apart of her felt bad for being so cold to him, but fuck, what else could she do?

He nodded as he got off the chair, “Nikki?” He looked at her as he adjusted his jacket.

“Yes, Princess?” She couldn’t tell if it was the tequila making her warm or if it was the smooth words that fell of his pretty pink lips.

“There’s a uh, party after this at Jason’s house. He lives around the corner. Some of us get together and some of the strippers come. You can come if you’d like.” She explained, taking the pen from behind her ear and writing down the address on a napkin, sliding it over to him as he took the paper.

“How do you know I have nothing better to do?” Nikki questioned, lips tugging into an arrogant little smirk.

She returned it right back to him, “Because I know you want to see me again.”

After about an hour cleaning up and closing the club with everyone, Vanity was back at Jason’s house. She had a little under two hours to finish partying before having to get back home to Clementine and Arianna. Vanity rolled off Jason as she pulled her jeans and top back on.

“That’s such a tacky tattoo, you should get it covered up.” Jason said, before slapping her ass.

“Thought about it a few times, but you have some tacky tattoos too.” She said glancing over his neck and covered in ink chest. Were they prison tattoos? Vanity never asked.

“Can I have some dust now?” She asked, getting back on top and straddling his waist. He chuckles, reaching into his nightstand and hands her a small baggie of the white powder, before quickly taking it back.

“What’s the magic word?” He laughed as she rolled her eyes.

“Please Jason?” She begged, eyes never leaving the drugs as he handed them back to her, she snatched it from his grasp before getting off of him.

“If you want something stronger, you can always have some junk.” Jason suggested as he grabbed a loaded syringe from his nightstand too.

She watched for a moment as he wrapped a belt around his arm, all of it being way to familiar to her, “Don’t fuck yourself up, Jase.”

She left his bedroom to leave him alone as she walked down the stairs, eyes searching for the raven haired bassist. She found him tucked away in a corner talking to one of the strippers.

Nikki glanced over seeing Vanity, and the freshly fucked glow that accompanied her messy hair that was now down compared to earlier. He tipped back a shot before leaving the stripper and walking over to her, “You came.” Vanity said with a smile

But did you?

He brushed off his thoughts, “Yeah, Yeah. I forgot how boujee New York parties were.” He said, motioning around to the yuppies who were sporadic around the confines of the apartment.

Vanity giggles, leading him to a private couch as they both sat down, “Sixx, my first New York party was insane. There was booze everywhere and drugs I’ve never even heard of. It was in some pent house in Brooklyn and some dude threw a TV out the window and it smashed some poor fuckers Porsche.”

He chuckles, “Doll, that’s nothing. Nothing compared to what I’ve done at parties and you know that.”

She smiles at him, “Yeah, the notorious Nikki Sixx, I know.” She rubbed the back of her neck, “How are the boys? Tommy visits from time to time…I mean uh….”

Nikki became confused, a scowl on his face. Tommy? His fucking drummer?

“What? He does? He’s never said anything to me.” Nikki spoke out as she stared at him, “I um…I asked him not too. He uh, he found me a few years ago after talking to Greyson.”

Nikki’s eyes almost popped out of his skull, “Years? He’s known about you for years? Vanity…” Nikki looked at her as she just shrugged, he let out a sigh, “Everyone else is okay. Vince and I keep butting heads but that’s all the time now.”

“Yeah, you and Vince have always butt heads but that’s your brother. I miss Mick a lot.”

“Mick misses you too. Likes to remind me I fucked up every chance he gets still.” Nikki confesses as Vanity chuckled.

“Do you want a beer?” She asked as he nodded. Vanity got up and went to the kitchen to grab two, opening up the both of them as she came back and sat down next to him.

“Tell him I love him and to ask Tommy for my number when you go back home.” She said before taking a sip from the bottle.

Nikki smirked, “That mean I get to call or just Mick?”

Vanity licked her lips, glancing over at the hot gaze he had on her. “Just mick. You don’t need my number.”

“Then you should tell T-bone yourself. I ain’t playing the middle man. I want your number though.”

Vanity smiled, seeing him become frustrated with her, “I don’t give my number out to exes, sorry.” She chuckled, playfully patting his shoulder before taking another sip.

He raised an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes at her, “Yet, you invited me to your boyfriends party.”

She stopped laughing, feeling her face warm up, “Well that’s different, you’re new to town and I’m just showing you around.”

Nikki shook his head, “I’ve been to New York, Vanity. Are you really going to play games with me right now?”

She smirks, slightly tilting her head, “I’m not doing anything, Nikki.” She said, voice oozing innocence as she propped her head up by the palm of her hand.

“Fine, don’t give me your number then..” Nikki says, becoming annoyed with her, “Don’t make me regret coming here.” He finishes off his beer before putting the bottle on the table and glaring at her.

Vanity let out a groan, “Why do you want my number? It ain’t gonna do you any good, you have a wife and my boyfriend is right upstairs. What even makes you think I want to continue talking to you? Like I said earlier, this interaction is more than enough for me.”

“Vanity, I’m getting a divorce.” Nikki said, looking away from her and at the other party goers. He tried, he really did with Brandi. He fell for her, but he fell for all the wrong reasons.

Vanity’s smile fades away as she looks at him, seeing the vulnerability written across his face. She felt bad for the guy, “Oh…well I’m sorry to hear about that. She is really, really beautiful.”

She is way skinnier then I am, has perfect skin and perfect hair, for fucks sake she’s a damn playboy. I wonder if she gave you such a hard time like I did. Did she not argue with you? Was she less problematic? Is that why you picked her?

“That’s why I’m in New York. To get away from that for a bit. I never thought getting a divorce would be such a hassle.” Nikki expressed as he ran his fingers through his hair before lighting up a cigarette.

“She wasn’t that pretty, under all that make up and behind closed doors. She’s a fucking cunt.”

Vanity looked into a beer bottle, “She’s very pretty actually, hence why she’s a playboy bunny.” She shook it off, “Sorry it didn’t work out for you, I wanted you to be happy with whatever choice you made.”

Nikki glanced over at her, scooting over just a tad as his thigh rested against hers, “I made the worse choice.”

Vanity chuckled, “Okay, I know this isn’t your scene but the party ain’t even that bad.”

He shook his head, “…and it was loosing you, Van.”

“Oh…” Vanity spoke quietly, looking up at him and meeting his eyes.

Please, I’m begging you. Don’t say stuff like that. I’m trying really hard here.

Vanity cleared her throat, staring at him as Nikki looked at her with that dreamy gaze he always seemed to use on her, “I…I have to go to the bathroom.” Vanity panicked, quickly leaving him as she almost ran to the bathroom. She locked herself inside, leaning against the door. She dug into her front pocket, pulling out the baggie of coke, laying a few lines on the porcelain sink.

Nikki sighed, seeing her run from him. He felt terrible for upsetting her already. He got off the couch to follow after her but he was quickly blocked by her new boyfriend with the shit neck tattoo.

“Everything fine, man?” Jordan, or was it Jason? Nikki couldn’t remember and honestly he didn’t give a fuck.

“Shits fine man, you good?” Nikki retorted as he stared up at him, Jason was a few inches taller then him. A tad more muscular but Nikki knew he could fuck him up in an instant. He read right through his tough guy persona.

“Oh I’m fuckin great man, just got my dick rode by Vanity and now I’m on a great high.” Jason’s words were slick as he smirked, licking his dry lips.

Nikki side eyed him as he waited for Vanity to come back, “I bet.”

“You want some blow?” Jason asked, “Or some junk? I just got some good shit earlier today.”

“I’m good-“ Nikki holds his hands up, “got my own supply.”

Jason chuckled darkly, “Not as good as my shit. I buy straight from the source. It’s pure and not cut down multiple times.”

Nikki looks him over, before glancing back at the door Vanity went through, “Sure man…I’ll take some blow.”

Jason smiles, laying some lines out as he starts snorting some first, “So, Vans your girl, huh?” Nikki questioned as Jason nodded.

He wiped his nose, “Yeah man, she’s my girl but not my girlfriend. Im sure with you being who you are you understand. Big fan by the way.”

Nikki gave him a nod, “Yeah, thanks man.” Nikki said, taking a straw and snorting up some dust.

“She’s all closed off and shit. So we just fuck and I sometimes do nice things for her, like give her cocaine and make her breakfast whenever she decides to eat.”

Nikki furrowed his eyebrows. So that’s why she’s gotten so skinny. Her body was perfect to Nikki. she was skinny, but still had the thickness in all the right places. He loved every single curve of hers and loved every part she hated sometimes. She was a real woman. Not filled with Botox and silicone. He used to live for the question, ‘Do these jeans make my butt look big?’ Nikki would always say yes, but that’s not a bad thing

I wanted to rip this motherfuckers throat out. Not only for fucking talking about her this way but for giving her god damn cocaine.

Nikki looked at him through hazy eyes, “She said you were her boyfriend. How long you been messing with her?”

Jason laughed, shaking his head at Nikki’s questions before snorting up a line, “Then I guess I am her boyfriend. She’s a good girl, we got a lot in common besides drugs. Both from the south, both come from rich families, have a lot of the same music taste, plus Im always taking her and her da-“

“Jase! Imma head out man! Catch you next time!” Some random dude said as Jason waved him off.

“Where was I? Oh yeah, Vanity I guess is my girlfriend. But like i said, the girls closed off as hell. She enjoys my drugs more than she does me. But she’s sexy as hell and knows how to suck dick pretty damn well, so I keep her around.”

Nikki glared at him. Who the fuck is this guy? You don’t fucking deserve to know her let alone deserve to be touching her.

“She’s more than just taking your drugs and shining up your cock.” Nikki spat out, snorting his last line as he threw the straw across the table to Jason.

Jason laughed, “Oh c’mon dude. You know how these girls work. They want drugs and they want to be fucked. She’s a coke whore, doesn’t mean she’s a bad gal though.”

“She ain’t a fucking coke whore.” Nikki spoke, standing up straight as he put his jacket back on and dug out his car keys.

Jason mimicked him as he stood up in front of him, “Things change, Nikki.” He said, playfully smacking his shoulder hard.

Nikki quickly pushed his hand off his shoulder, “I’m not your buddy.”

Jason stepped back, putting his hands up in defense as he saw Vanity come back out of the bathroom sneezing and rubbing her nose.

“There’s my girl.” Jason said, wrapping an arm around Vanity’s shoulder as he pulls her tightly against his side, “No hard feelings…bud.” He says glancing over at Nikki. Vanity noticed the look on Nikki’s face, seeing the scowl and daggers being thrown by his beautiful eyes.

Nikki shook his head, “Nice seeing you Van.”

Vanity frowns somewhat, stepping away from Jason and closer to Nikki, “You’re leaving already?” She questions as she stares up at him with her signature pouty eyes.

Nikki sighed, becoming complete goo as he looked down at her, “I shouldn’t have came. Have fun with your boyfriend.”

Vanity turned around, seeing Jason was already nose deep in blow with some other guy. She turns back to Nikki, taking another step towards him hesitantly, a mere few inches being left between them.

“If you um…if you want to talk again, here’s my number.” She mumbled, grabbing a pen from the kitchen drawer as she walked back to him. She grabbed his hand, holding it as she felt herself get warm inside. She writes down the number as she looks back up at him, “Nikki, we really need to talk about something…” she says before trying to tug away from his hand, but he held it tighter.

Nikki stared down into her dull eyes that were usually filled with so much life and happiness. They were hazy and low due to the drugs and booze. He holds her hand for a moment, thumb rubbing over her hand as a way to calm her nerves, he feels her hand become less tense at the simple touch, “I’ll give you call.”

*Vanity’s POV*

I drunkenly stumbled into the apartment, grasping the doorknob so it wouldn’t hit the wall. I kicked off my heels before tip toeing across the dining room. I noticed Clementine was still sleeping on the couch as I walked to the kitchen and started making some coffee to sober me up. I looked over at the time on the microwave, seeing it was another hour until Arianna would be up.

I looked over at Clem, noticing that she was tossing and turning on the couch. I took that as my queue to go over and bug her. I plopped down on the couch, “Oh good! You’re awake!”

She glared at me, groaning as she pulled the blanket over her head, “I smelt coffee.” She grumbled as I twiddled with my thumbs.

“Well, I have some brewing…” I chewed on my bottom lip, “Has Tommy mentioned anything out of the ordinary to you lately?”

She pulled the blankets down to her nose so I could at least see her eyes, “Hmm, no? Why? What’s happened?”

I let out a slight nervous chuckle, “So, funny story…Nikki’s in the city and I ran into him.”

Clementine stared at me, brown eyes going wide as her eyebrows raised in shock, “Nikki? As in Nikki Sixx? Your Nikki?”

“No, my other baby daddy named Nikki-“ I let out an eye roll, “Yes Clem, Nikki Sixx.”

She sat up on the couch, pulling her knees to her chest as she grabbed her glasses from the coffee table, “Oh uh…how did it that go? Did you talk to him?”

I nodded, “Uh yeah…he showed up at the club, wanted a drink and started chatting with me.”

Clementine narrowed her eyes, “…and what did you do?”

I sighed, “Invited him to Jason’s after party…”

“Vanity.” Her voice was stern as I frowned, “And I maybe might of given Nikki my number….”

She stared in utter disbelief, “So, does this mean you’re gonna tell him about Ari?”

I laughed, ”What? I am pretty sure it was just a one time thing. It’s a huge city and the chances of us running into each other again are slim. Plus, he probably already wiped off my number.”

“Hmm..okay, if you say so.” I looked at her, hearing the judgy tone in her voice and seeing the stern look she had on her face.

“Okay, look. I know I should, but Arianna isn’t ready to meet her dad. She’s not going to be able to process it emotionally. Plus, with me in therapy I don’t need Nikki’s problems.” I pointed out, “Did you know he’s divorcing Brandi?”

She nods, “Yeah, Tommy mentioned it to me a week or two ago.” I frowned, she knew? And didn’t bother to tell me?

“Van, you can’t just hide anymore. And you can’t hide Arianna too. He’s here now and we knew this would happen sooner or later.”

I let out a deep sigh, “What am I suppose to do? Just invite him over and be like ‘hey this is your daughter’?”

“No, maybe go somewhere with him-“ “I’m not going anywhere with him.” I quickly cut her off as she glared.

“Vanity, just meet up with him. Grab a cup of coffee or something and gently tell him because if he finds out any other way I’m sure he will freak out.”

That’s the whole reason I’ve been avoiding this! I knew no matter how I tell him he was a father he would react badly. There’s no easy way of doing it.

“Clementine, gentle has never been a thing for Nikki and I.”

[kmp78]

It was a meme she posted ALSO in July 2019 aka when she and the boyfie were cooling off… 👀 hey K, so they had a little trouble and a break?😂 and she was pissed off? Maybe his balls are not what he makes us all think 😂

Hi anon.

Oh absolutely I think they were on a break from early summer of 2019 all the way to Nov/Dec 2019!

Think about it: in May/June (can´t remember which) we got those cuuuuuute shopping pics...

... and then it all stopped.

VK kept firmly away from LA and never showed up at any Mars gig in Europe (that we know of), she seemed to spend all her free time with Maddy and her other gal pals either in NYC or vacaying in the Med, she copped that bitchy attitude with the public birding, she posted things that are highly unlike her with a LMAO emoji to boot, she suddenly goes and gets a puppy to shower all her love and affection on since boyfie isn´t around for that anymore...

It just all adds up!

She was nursing a broken heart and looking for comfort/sympathy from her girlfriends (who no doubt talked her into getting that dog...) and airing her bad feelings on socials.

And then also fittingly in late 2019 she moved to LA and reconciled with her boyfriend.

And the moodiness stopped and she got more liberties from the boyfie in comparison to her old life with him. 🥰

And then the dog had to go. 👋

And then her friendship with Madison & co ended. 👋

Tell me there isn´t a connection in all this! 👀

[deadmomjokes]

I’m in a situation with some friends where a double standard is involved. It’s me, a couple, and other people. But the double standard involves me and the couple. I will say a joke and the boyfriend will call me annoying/stupid or to shut up/go away. Then his girlfriend will say/do the EXACT same thing I did and he will laugh and call her cute and kiss her. I want to bring it up because yeah they are dating but the fact is it’s not fair to treat a friend or someone you care about like that.

double standard anon again. I want to bring it up especially since this has been happening a lot more recently and all of my friends will be going on a trip together, I don’t want to snap and say something I can’t take back I need to approach the situation where I get my point across without crying/sounding bitchy.

___________________________________

I am so sorry you’re dealing with this. This is just a disgusting situation, and you don’t deserve that. What he is doing is horribly toxic, and totally unacceptable. I would be shocked if he didn’t realize what he’s doing, because it sounds absolutely purposeful to me, and I’m so sad and angry on your behalf.

If you are wanting to bring it up, I would suggest starting with the others in the friend group. Maybe try asking them if they’ve noticed it, and let them know how it’s affecting you. If they are unwilling or unable to help you address the problem, or don’t see it as a big deal, my next step on the escalation ladder would be going to the girlfriend rather than the boyfriend, because he is the one saying horrible things to you and it’s more likely that she’s unaware rather than him (it is possible he might not realize it and is in for one heck of a wakeup call, though I’d be really surprised if anyone could be so deeply hurtful and not realize they’re doing it).

I personally find letter or email-writing helpful, especially to say something along the lines of “I’m writing it down because I don’t want to get flustered in the moment, because our friendship is really important to me and I want to make sure I can say this accurately without getting stressed out.” If you’re more comfortable talking out loud, of course, maybe just ask if you could get her to help you with something so you two are alone, and go from there. But I would definitely suggest not going straight to the boyfriend right away without having talked to others involved, because it really seems to me like he’s the main perpetrator/offender here. (And I’m honestly still reeling from how disgustingly obvious and horrible and rude he’s being to you, like dang, dude, that’s awful, and I’m honestly really proud of you for wanting to fix it instead of just wanting to jump to ditching the whole lot of them. That’s a really mature thing for you to do; I’m usually so conflict averse I’d just ghost them and move to canada or something. Not really, but my point is, you’re being so strong and grown-up about this even though the situation is absolutely gross and very hurtful.)

If it comes down to talking to the boyfriend directly, I’d make sure to emphasize that you’re bringing it up because you're invested in this friendship, and you wanted to clear the air directly so that there aren’t hard feelings in the future and you can all continue being friends without anyone feeling uncomfortable.

I know this is the kind of stuff they teach you in elementary school (at least, they did when I was in elementary, we got this lesson 2x a year from the counselor in an attempt to stop kids from beating each other up), but it can be helpful to remember “I statement” communication techniques, both in person and in writing. It’s all to avoid sounding accusatory by putting things in terms of how they affect you, not what the other person is doing. It plays on peoples’ sense of empathy rather than them feeling defensive because their actions are the focus.

So instead of “you’re being unfair, rude, and hurtful,” which, it must be said, is 100% accurate and true, it would be something like, “I feel really unwanted and hated and hurt when this specific situation comes up where I say something, get told I’m being annoying, and then someone else says it and it gets a laugh.” It is also helpful and recommended by communications experts (at least it was back in my day) to state what you’re looking for in terms of resolution, and why you’re engaging in the conversation. So you could add something like “I’m not jealous, just hurt and wondering what’s going on. I want to feel like I can be myself with my friends, and I want to see what we can do to fix this so everyone is comfortable around each other.”

Now, I could see several bad responses on his/their part. One being that “It’s just a joke, lighten up.” At that point, it’s going to be a matter of continuing to express that it’s not something you find funny, that you feel genuinely hurt, and then holding your ground. This may end up in a situation where there is just this awful personality conflict that can’t be gotten over, in which case I am even more sorry because the only real solution for your emotional safety and well being is to no longer engage with them socially, if they’re insistent on continuing this “joke.”

Another possible response that would be absolutely vile but very telling would be that he says he genuinely finds it annoying when you do it but cute when she does it. That is unacceptable as a human being, and especially as a friend, and to me is the death blow for this social relationship. If the other people involved are unwilling to take a stand against that kind of cruelty, or (in the above situation) are unwilling to ensure your comfort in the group, they are not being friends to you.

I hope that this works out in such a way that the conversation goes easily, and that it gets resolved once and for all so that you can feel happy, loved, and welcome in your friend group. I hope this trip goes wonderfully and peacefully.

Feel free to let me know how things progress, and I hope in all these ramblings there was something that might help. If only to know that you’re not being unreasonable or rude, you have a right to feel welcome and unpersecuted in your friend group, and this behavior you’ve been dealing with is definitely unacceptable and cruel. And that you are being a genuinely mature and good person in wanting to address this before you reach your boiling point. You have all my best wishes, especially moving forward, and may something like this never, ever happen again!

[carol-effing-danvers]

knock me the fuck out (i dare ya, babe) part two

More Teacher Steve and Soft Billy!

Part One 

Prefer Ao3 Format? Click here!

Angie is left to wail with around the living room with increasingly frustrated hunger, because Steve needs to spend the first thirty minutes after he comes home screaming into a pillow.

Had Billy seen him staring?

He was so sweet with Lauren, so gentle to her that Steve couldn’t help his smiling, but he’d seen the annoyed expression on Billy’s face from the corner of his eye when he’d turned away. Could he tell that Steve had been checking him out earlier? Maybe he just didn’t want to call him out in front of Lauren and the other children? Maybe he loathed Steve just as much as ever did?

Steve hugs a pillow to his stomach and rests his cheek atop it, feeling glum. Figures. Figures that the first boy he’d ever been attracted to would roll back into town ten years later (looking finer than any person has a right to!), while Steve spends his days with children and his nights alone.

He can’t even get a girlfriend anymore – after the big bisexual breakdown, no girl in Hawkins will date him, but he wished he had a boyfriend or at least a hookup he could call.

Robin gets dates, but he concedes that it’s probably easier when the entire town doesn’t know you’re a queer.

He can’t date any woman within ten miles of the town – even if she somehow doesn’t already know the whole stupid story yet, someone will happily and gleefully open their mouth to enlighten her. And no man will date him either, because agreeing to that is basically agreeing to let the whole town know who you are. There’d be no hiding it.

Flopping his face back down into the pillow, Steve screams some more, before jumping off the couch with a sudden burst of motion. No, no. He promised himself, he promised Robin, he promised Dustin, that he wasn’t going to make himself feel bad about this anymore. The past was the past, and he couldn’t change it.

So what if his dad never spoke to him and his mom only called twice a year? That was about the amount of contact they used to have! So what if the parents tried to stop him from being hired? They hadn’t been able to succeed and Steve got the job of his dreams anyway! So what if he still had a crush on Billy Hargrove? He’d survived it the first time and he’d survive it again.

God knows he’s survived worse.

“Uh, Steve-o?” Robin asks, looking around the kitchen. “Wanna tell me what happened to you today?”

“What do you mean?” Steve responds absently, without looking up from the pan of mushrooms on the stove.

“Steve, you’re making beef wellington, honey,” she says carefully, as though making Steve aware of this might make him explode or something. “I mean, please don’t stop, because your beef wellington is fucking amazing – but you also only make it when you feel like shit. So. Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

He stares down at the pan. “Did you know that Billy Hargrove was back in town?”

“Billy – Max’s brother, Billy?” Robin asks. Steve could almost feel her bristling. “He didn’t start threatening you again, did he?”

“No, Max was right,” he says, in the soft stilted tone that tells her he’s actually very upset. “He’s much calmer now.”

“Okay,” she says slowly. “Then you need to tell me why you look like someone killed Angie in front of you.”

Woodenly, he replies “Remember how I said I had a crush on a straight boy, back in ’86, when all the shit was going down?”

“Oh my god, Steve-”

“But he wouldn’t give me the time of day, unless it involved his fist and my face? Billy was that boy. Is that boy. Man. Whatever.”

“Steve,” Robin says seriously, grabbing onto his forearms and holding her eyes open wide as she tries not to laugh. “Billy isn’t any straighter than I am.”

---

After leaving Lulu with Steve fucking Harrington, holy shit, Billy feels the urgent need for a cigarette as soon as he leaves the school parking lot. He fishes for a lighter before whispering “Fuck” because of course he can’t smoke in the fucking car anymore, Lulu rides in this car with him now.

Cursing, Billy pounds on the steering wheel and pulls over to furiously smoke a cigarette outside, standing on the side of the road because Steve was there, and how the fuck has he gotten even prettier in the last ten years?, and Billy wanted to fuck him on that desk so bad something was wrong with him, and Steve’s smile for the person Billy loved most in the world was absolutely devastating.

Easy as that blinding smile, Billy could feel the old ghosts of his yearning – if not laid to rest, then at least peaceful in their haunting – live and howl again.

Getting back into the driver’s seat involves a whole new chorus of swearing, but he needs to get into work, mental breakdown or not. The bell over the shop jingles as he steps inside, accompanied by the intoxicating smell of sugar, flour, and vanilla.

The woman standing behind the counter of the bakery display finally manages to break his bad mood and he cracks a smile for her. “Hey, Trouble.”

Eleven leans over the counter, palms flat on the glass, her curls pinned to the back of her head. There’s flour smudged across her face and raspberry jam on her apron. “Who, me?”

He hugs her over the counter and kisses her flour-dusted cheek. “Yeah, you topple any major government conspiracies lately?”

Loftily, El says “I like to take the winters off.”

“Is that right?” he drawls, turning the hand-washing station onto hot after hanging up his jacket. “Then I’m just in time.”

She stares at him from her spot leaning against the pastries display, chin resting on her small fist. “Yes, you are,” she says in that eerie tone that means she isn’t talking about herself anymore. “Welcome home, Billy.”

Drying off his hands, Billy says “How come you ain’t tell me how bad things had gotten with her, huh?”

El stands straight, arms protectively folded over herself. “She was already mad at me for…the whole…”

She waves her hand around ambiguously, but Billy correctly interprets that as ‘spilling the beans on that asshole she married’. “She ain’t mad at you,” he soothes. “She’s mad at herself.”

When Eleven still looks unconvinced, he adds, “Don’t tell her I said so, but I know she misses you. Misses all of the nerd herd.”

“We may not be together anymore, but we miss her too,” she says sadly.

Billy’s gaze sharpened upon her. “You tellin’ me Wheeler just left you out here in this backwoods town all by yourself?”

She shrugs. “We grew up. He wanted to go to MIT and I didn’t want to follow him.”

He wants to tell her that Mike Wheeler was insane to leave her, but honestly, staying in Indiana for a teenage girl and giving up MIT was way more insane.

El nods. “Yeah, that’s what I told him.”

He glares at her. “No peaking, Ellie.”

She lifts her hands in surrender. “Stop thinking at me so loud, then.”

Steve, Steve, Steve – has she seen about Steve? El’s eyes widen. Shit. SHIT. SHIT.

“Uh..” She chews at her bottom lip.

“We are not talking about this,” he informs her flatly, pushing the door to the back room open. “You’re gonna pretend you didn’t…hear…see…whatever.”

“Billy…” she says hesitantly.

“What I literally just say?” he demands.

“Yes, okay, but…” Her eyes search his expression intently. “Um…Max didn’t tell you what happened during Spring Break in ’86, did she?”

He swore he was ‘bout to get whiplash from this girl. “Noooo,” he says, drawn out. “Why? What happened back in ’86?”

“Um…” El’s face turns red and she scratches nervously at the nape of her neck. “Steve, um…oh, never mind! Ask Max if you want to know.”

---

“What do you mean, Billy’s not straight?!” Steve demands, practically standing on the kitchen counter as he yells the question at her.

Robin is still trying very hard not to laugh. “Uh, okay…how do I put this…I want you to look back on your memory of Billy Hargrove when we were in high school, Steve. Think really, really hard. Did you ever actually see him kissing a girl? Dating any girls, back in school? Can you name a single girl he dated?”

“Everybody knew he was a total horndog,” Steve scoffs, feeling that old belated jealousy rear its ugly head.

“No, I don’t care about what everyone knew. What did you see, Steve? Remember the way Billy dressed?”

He rolls his eyes. “He was from California, Rob.”

“I visited Disneyland when I was sixteen. I did not see anyone in California dressed like that. He wore eyeliner and curled his hair, Steve. And if I’m remembering this correctly, that boy flashed his tits like he was starring in his own fucking porn video.” She smirks at his steadily reddening cheeks. “Your boy? Is gay, Steve-o.”

Robin pauses and squints a moment, as though staring at something in the distance. “Wait, Billy was a lifeguard that summer, right? Red shorts, came into Scoops and ordered…”

“Double strawberry,” Steve mutters, feeling bitchy and depressed.

“Oh my god.” This time, Robin couldn’t hold the laughter in.

“What?” he asks, annoyed. “I mean, I know the mustache wasn’t really working for him back then, but you should see-”

“No-no-no,” she cackles, holding her sides. “Oh my god, boys are so dumb. Steve-Steve, back then? Billy wanted to choke on your dick real bad.”

He stares at her blankly.

“Real bad, Steve.”

“What are you even talking ab-no! No!” Steve snaps. “Billy hated me! He beat my face in and tormented me from the moment he stepped into town, Rob!”

It’s Robin’s turn to scoff. “You’ve never heard about that trite old adage about boys who pull on little girls’ pigtails, Steve? Except that his little girl was another boy – a boy who already had a girlfriend when he got into town.”

“No way,” Steve snaps.

“And he wants this boy’s attention really, really bad, Steve. But this boy had just got his heart broken and didn’t know he also liked boys, yet. Billy’s boy won’t give him the attention he wants and he’s got a lot of anger management and self-control issues. We see that in the classroom every day, Steve. What do you think Billy would do?”

“That’s a pretty picture you’re painting,” Steve says flatly, rolling their wellington into its blanket of puff pastry. “I have a much simpler explanation – Billy was an egomaniac who thought I was at the head of the Hawkins food chain and decided that he was going to be the new apex predator and humiliated me to accomplish that. Him being gay or not doesn’t factor into it.”

Robin pours them both a glass of red – she’ll have to drink a lot of water if she doesn’t want a headache, but she needs it tonight. “Okay, I’ll make you a deal,” she says airily. “I bet you a full year of grading tests that Billy Hargrove would totally suck face with you.”

“Okay, hold on a fucking minute!” he sputters. “Even assuming this bullshit your on about him having the hots for me ten years ago is true, that has nothing to do with right now!”

“Steve, you look like a nerd,” she says gently. “And nerd really works for you, dingus. If he doesn’t want to at least make out with you a little, the man has no taste and you need to move on.”

“How about I skip the whole question and move on regardless,” Steve says dryly.

“Then you forfeit the bet and you’re marking all of my quizzes for the entire school year next year.”

“Goddamn it, Robin.”

---

“Uncle Billy, what are those silver thingies on your tummy?” Lulu asks, poking at the scars covering his torso where her uncle is in the middle of washing the dishes.

Very seriously, Billy says “That’s where I got bitten by the werewolf.”

He hears Max mutter “Oh my god, Billy”, but she doesn’t attempt to dissuade him from telling the story the way he pleased – after all, what would she tell her? That Uncle Billy was possessed by an interdimensional alien being that had come to Hawkins through a hole in the world beneath their feet and fought a monster made of pulverized corpses with his bare hands? Werewolf it is, then!

“Nooo, Uncle Billy, you’re not a werewolf!” she protests with a little giggle.

“Yes I am. Uh-oh, Lulu,” he says somberly. “Oh, no – it’s-it’s the full moon!”

She vibrates with anticipation, giving a loud shriek when Billy lets out a wolf-like howl and lunges for her. “RAAAAAAAAAH!”

“NOOOOOO!!!”

He wears her out good, chasing her around the house for nearly an hour before he convinces her it’s time to go to bed now. He lets Max relax and talks Lulu through bedtime himself. Feeling like a dickhead as he plops down onto the sofa, where Max is watching a rerun of Friends, Billy just sucks it up and says “So, what’s up with Harrington and Spring Break of ’86?”

To his complete surprise, Max’s jaw gets tight and her eyes flash. “Jesus fucking Christ, the people in this town really can’t keep their mouths shut, can they?” she says angrily. “So who told you, huh?”

“Uh…what?” he says blankly, feeling really far away all of a sudden. “Ellie-Eleven told me I need to ask you about Harrington and what happened in ’86, she never said why I need to ask.”

Yeah, he was still very unclear about why this was a story he had to hear.

Max gives him an owlish stare. “She…she wanted you to know?”

“…’s what she said, man.” He shrugs.

“Wow. Okay. Uh…so during Spring Break, one of your old classmates came home from college and threw this really big party,” Max begins, puffing her cheeks out with a sigh. “Steve and his friend Robin – you remember Robin? Blonde, used to work with him at Scoops? They were at this party, and the longer the night went on, the more that shit got out of hand. Like people were passed out on the front lawn. Someone broke into the neighbor’s house because they were too drunk to realize they knocked on the wrong door. Todd Grace took the riding lawn mower from the garage and crashed it somewhere on the golf course down the road. So, naturally the cops showed up.”

“Naturally,” Billy says neutrally, still wondering exactly where in the hell this story was going.

“Everybody freaked when they came in and Robin couldn’t find Steve, so she assumed that he’d hooked up with someone and forgot to tell her that he was leaving. She didn’t realize that he was still there, and he had no idea that the cops had come and were already in the house.”

She stops and stares at the ceiling. “If anybody in this town could keep their mouths closed, that would be the end of the story, but some of the officers blabbed, and now the whole fucking town knows that they found Steve Harrington in a closet on his knees, sucking off two high school seniors.”

Billy’s brain starts floating on ‘Steve Harrington on his knees’ and launches itself into outer space at ‘sucking off’. Immediately it becomes critical that he try not to picture that – young Steve, still doe-eyed and pretty, but brattier, the stuck up ice princess, with his soft sweet mouth wrapped around-

Max’s jaw tightens up with rage again. “I find it really interesting that whenever someone tells that story, they never mention Mike Tentiss or Zach Cooper, but they were the ones standing there with their pants around their ankles.”

Billy stares at the television without really seeing another on the screen. “Why you never tell me that story, Maxine?”

She’s known he was gay since just before she got married. She kept making jokes about getting him a nice girlfriend or hooking up with one of her bridesmaids, until Billy had just snarled over the phone “Maxine, I am a FUCKING queer!”

Softly, Max says “Cause it started this whole town-wide drama and it almost ruined Steve’s life, Billy. Darlene Cooper tried to have him arrested for molesting her son, but obviously Zach was only a year younger than him. She went around to our house and the Wheeler’s and the Sinclair’s and Mrs. Henderson and Mrs. Byers and tried to get one of us to say Steve had…done something to us.”

“Jesus Christ.” That sounds like something out of Billy’s worst nightmares.

She dips her head into a nod. “Uh-huh. It didn’t work, obviously, and Mrs. Byers – I never saw her that mad, Billy. She screamed at Darlene something awful. Some of the parents threw a fit when the school hired him, said he didn’t have any business being around kids, but I think his mom pulled some strings. She and his dad have basically disowned him. He thought none of us would want to speak to him ever again – I mean, the boys got a little weird for a bit, but Erica was…Erica, and they came around. It’s really sad, though. He’s one of the nicest men I know, but no girl in town will go out with him.”

Confused, Billy says “Uh, ain’t he…?”

She shrugs. “Robin says he likes both, I guess. Anyway, no woman in this town will go on a date with him, and no man will so much as be alone in a room with him. Like if Steve sneezes on them, they’ll suddenly want to suck a dick or something.”

Oh, I’d do a helluva lot more than be alone in a room with Steve Harrington. And there wouldn’t be any ‘suddenly’ about it.

Billy realizes that Max is looking very suspicious right now and narrows his eyes. “Max. Maxie. Maxine. Maxine Roberta, please tell me that you and Eleven aren’t trying to set me up on a date with Steve Harrington.”

His baby sister looks even guiltier. She picks at her fingernails, staring down at her lap. “You don’t-you’ve never talk about any guys that you’re going out with, you’ve never even told me that you were interested in a guy,” she mumbles. “I just…don’t want you to be lonely. Dustin thinks Steve is – lonely, I mean. You’re the same age and you can both…y’know. Handle all the weird shit around here.”

“Mad Max,” he sighs, and tucked the wisps of red hair behind her ears the way he had for Lulu this morning. “I was not nice to Harrington. I was never nice to Harrington – and I don’t just mean the night I nearly killed him. There was a whole bunch of shit you guys weren’t around to see. The fact that we’re both willing to suck a dick doesn’t change anything, Max.”

“But you apologized for that ten years ago!” She pleads with her big blue eyes. “Please? I’m not asking you to go on a date with him, just be nice to him when you see him, okay?”

Gruffly, he says “That why ya didn’t wanna tell me who Lulu’s teacher was?”

---

Saturday morning means going to the 11th Hour, because Robin has a hangover and going to the 11th means that they don’t really have to get dressed because El has seen them both covered in mud, blood (their own), blood (others), blood (alien), and puke – all at the same time.

Also, Steve is a grown ass man who can’t be bothered to put on real adult clothes unless he has to teach and today he’s just fucking given up on his hair because the only people who are gonna see him are Robin, who still calls him dingus after ten years of knowing him, and El, who still seems to think he’s Prince Charming after ten years of knowing him (god help her).

Steve and Robin both think it’s very cute that Eleven the Eggo Queen decided she wanted to open a bakery when she grew up. And she’s really good at it, too. She makes this spiced tart thingy with pears and cherries that he would hold someone at gunpoint for. He loves it so much that she makes a big one on his birthday every single year.

Her eyes light up when they walk through the door, looking so pleased that Steve has a guilty thought that they may’ve been neglecting her a little. “Good morning!” she greets, wriggling with excitement as she leans over the counter. “Christmas galette for Steve and for Robbie…?”

“Tart au citron,” Robin says decisively after a moment’s thought. “And coffee.”

“Lots of coffee,” Steve adds with a grimace. The half a bottle of wine was a mistake and he’d known it was gonna be a mistake even as he was pouring their glasses. “El, can you pretty please with chocolate chip Eggos on top make your hangover sandwiches for me? I’ll watch the counter for you! Please?”

Even more pleased, El says “Oh that’s okay, I can make them. Hang on.”

The swinging robin’s egg blue of the backroom door opens, a voice behind it murmuring, “Lulu, skip to my lou. Lulu, skip to my lou.” A distracted Billy walks in carrying Lauren one-handed, half sleeping across her uncle’s shoulder, and a Styrofoam cup in the other. “Lulu, skip to my lou, my darlin’…”

His cheek rests on her head and the forearm supporting Lauren’s weight bulges with muscle beneath the skin and Steve’s fucking knees feel like water.

“Can you watch the front for a few minutes?” El asks pleasantly, ignoring the shell-shocked look on Steve’s face and the intense scrutiny Robin is giving her employee.

“Sure…boss…” Billy says slowly, eyeing his former classmates suspiciously. He wants this boy’s attention really, really bad, Steve.

He suppresses a snort. In Nancy’s very succinct words – it’s all just bullshit.

---

Who let this man walk out of the house that way? Was it Buckley? Was she trying to cause a goddamn riot? Wasn’t there a law against being such a fucking tease? Malicious seduction or something?

Still mostly dressed in pajamas with his glasses hastily shoved on and his hair looking like he’d stuck his finger in an electric socket, Steve looked tired and fresh from bed, even softer and sleepier than the cardigan and khaki look at school yesterday. Billy wanted to push him down on a bed, straddle his waist and kiss him for ages. Kiss him until those heavy eyelids went from surprised to dark and glazed with lust.

“Hello, Mister H,” Lulu, his sweet saving angel, mumbles into his shoulder.

That sunny-warm smile brightens up his face again, and Billy’s heart gives a painful squeeze. “Good morning, Lauren. Are you helping Billy at work.”

“Uh-huh,” she grunts, eyes closing again. “Woke me up.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” he says, all sympathy and sad eyes.

God, this is fucking torture. And Maxine had to go and like…give him fucking hope and shit. Jesus.

“You wanna go back and lay down in Miss Hopper’s officer, Lulu?”

“Uh-huh,” she repeats, still clinging to his shirt.

He makes his very hasty retreat, not looking at El as he passes her in the kitchen. Unfortunately, when he returns to the front counter, Steve is still there, but Buckley seems to have disappeared and he’s blushing now, maybe because the whole universe fucking hates him and then Steve is right up in his face and says “I’m just gonna get this over with, please don’t hit me-”

And then-

-his mouth, still tinged with the minty clean taste of toothpaste, so fucking soft against Billy’s lips, his long fingers lightly touching Billy’s jawline. Steve’s cheeks are cool where Billy touches them, but his mouth is burning hot. The erection he was just managing to get under control before surges to painful, insistent life in his jeans when Steve sighs and moans, large curling around the back of his neck.

Billy answers with a low groan, fingers twisting through the silky strands of his hair to hold him there – not that Steve seems keen to escape.

Breathing is a tragic necessity, though.

“Oh,” Steve exhales as Billy pulls away reluctantly, and his eyes are just as dark, just as sloe and heavy as Billy always dreamed they’d be. He’s still clinging to the front of his shirt and his mouth looks wine-red from kissing, which only makes Billy wanna kiss him more. “I’m gonna grade quizzes for a year.”

[cruzrogue]

Nerdapoolza

#Fictober19 @fictober-event

————————————————————————

for fanfiction:

Prompt number: Prompt 27 “Can you wait for me?”

Fandom (AU if applicable): #arrow fanfiction #olicity

Rating:PG13

Warnings/Tags:  relationships conversations

Summary: A troubled Oliver visits his best-buddy and lands up having to hang with a bunch of nerds at a study group.

Notes: Oliver talks about his past relationships with a girl who listens and with her own advice things change…

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

Nerdapoolza on A03

Oliver has no idea when and why he let things go so far. Doing both Lance sisters was a disaster in the making. So much so that the outcome when visiting his best friend on the East Coast his troubles happen to come along. He just loved having sex. He liked having a girl at home to placid his mother at least. He just really liked the opposite sex and what they had to offer.

What he could do without is the complication some girls brought to the table. Neediness, those girls who couldn’t distinguish between sex and love. Never happy and who can never get enough attention or help. They have no tolerance for being alone. They're clingy. They don't take hints. They call or text you continuously.

Oliver deleting another angry text by Laurel as he just goes to the TV room. Tommy laid out on the lounger watching an oldie.

“Woman problems?” Oliver just shrugs. “I told you to end thing eons ago but do you listen?”

“My mom liked Laurel.”

“Yea, because your mom is the one dating your girlfriend… I mean the ex-girlfriend, now right?”

“I had to leave Starling. It was insane. She’d show up wherever I went. Call, text, shoot even email me.”

“Well your free now. You need a cooling down period anyways?”

“Cooling down?”

“Yes. No girls for at least two weeks.”

“What? No way. Two weeks?”

“Whatever girl you date next shouldn’t fall into the mess you’ve got going on now.”

Oliver takes a moment to think this through, “Okay I get that but no way on the two weeks’ policy I’ll try to manage one.”

“There is no policy it’s just… You know what, if you could manage one without hitting on a girl. I’d be amazed.”

“Oh, please it’s not that hard.”

“Yea maybe when we were eight and we still thought them as yucky.” Tommy looks at his watch. “Alright I better setup for my study group I’m hosting tonight.”

“You actually hosting a study group?”

“Of course, Like my GPA to reflect how kick ass I am.”

“Nerdapoolza.”

“Ha, maybe if you actually cracked open a book, you’d be more than an average student.”

“Shit Tommy, you’ve insulted me in a few things today you want to try my manhood next?”

Tommy holds his hands up, “Bro, if the ladies are okay with you, which it seems they are because let’s face it they seem to bend over backwards for you.” Oliver rolls his eyes. “If you like you can hang out with us intellects.”

“Aren’t I lucky?”

“Here’s the deal. It’s a group of nine, four ladies the rest all guys. We all roughly go to different schools we met through online groupchat pipelines.”

“You just met these strangers online?”

“Well you meet face to face first in a public place and we had more of us but through semesters some have weened out.”

“Fascinating?”

“Ollie, I really enjoyed this. I’ve meet people with my same interests or people who make lackluster subjects that need to be taken easier. Also, there is a comradery.”

“Have you hooked up with anyone?”

“This isn’t like that. If I want to get laid there are better alternatives these are peeps, I want to mindcrush with.”

“So, no hot chicks?”

“There has been a few and well there is one that gets under my skin at times. You’ll meet her.”

“Plays hard to get?”

“No, she’s different?”

Oliver wonders if she is the crazy, bitchy kind of girl that is beautiful but out there. “Crazy? Pure lunatic? Or are you leaning the other way? Boring and predictable?” Seeing Tommy mum his lips, “Underage?”

“No actually she is legal since this past July.”

“Then what is wrong with her?”

“Nothing!” Tommy laughs. “She’s great. Smart to boot and she can dish out like the best of them. She just has different tastes than me.”

“She ‘ll be here tonight?”

“Yea, she’s also in charge of the chip selection.”

“Chips?”

“Yes, they’re brain food if you ask her and they are cheap enough that everyone can handle their chip turn.”

“You guys sound like the lamest party group on the planet.”

“Good thing we are a study group. Come on help me makes some drinks.”

“They won’t have any alcohol, right?” Tommy just sways his head in a different no position.

As there in the kitchen Oliver just watch Tommy take a veggie plate from the fridge. Placing some cut up fruit from a container onto a bowl. Oliver mixing some extra ice to the ready-made ice tea.

“So, what the subject for tonight?”

“Physics and Statistics.”

“Great!”

“In between we may play a game Charades but mostly we talk about what ails us.”  

“You really want me to actual negate points now?”

“Come on Ollie, you may actually enjoy a night of brainpower and sharing personal stories at its finest.”

“Shit, if I wasn’t so into proving I can lay off woman for a week I’d take off and enjoy the city’s nightlife.”

“You’d be missing out!”

As the first ring on the doorbell happened Oliver laughs, “Nerdapoolza here we come.”

“Hush!” Tommy opens the door to a Mike and then a Craig and Lisa join in. Soon Phil, and Jessica, and a Robbie joins them. When Carol joins the festivities Oliver wonders if she is the girl but she didn’t bring chips. As they spread around the nice living room the doorbell rings again and Oliver takes the lead to open it.

“Tommy, I got held up by the elevator. I mean why does your place’s elevator have it out for me anyway?” He can’t see her over the large bags of chips she’s carrying. “They had this sale and I couldn’t remember if it green or red salsa Lisa likes so I got them both. The had lime flavored popcorn that Rob likes and I also got you your nachos.” She keeps going and its weirdly amusing as she walks herself to the kitchen. She says hi to everyone without even glancing their way. As she dumps the chips on the counter, she simultaneously takes her backpack off.

From his vantage point he just sees her backside. A really nice backside. His eyes wavering until he focuses and what an interesting view it is. She’s wearing ankle grunge boots, her tie up leggings go up to a flair skirt and it seems she has a wraparound top. With the conversation earlier on this girl he can’t believe he didn’t ask for her name.

“Hence why I’m late and you know I’m an early bird.” She stops as she places the bag she has idly on her hand. Somehow, she is thinking it is weird that Tommy hasn’t stopped to add a colorful comment. “What’s gotten into you…” Her face shows shock the moment she realizes it’s not Tommy. “Who are you?”

“This is my best-buddy in the world.” Tommy says cheerfully as he walks into his kitchen. “We have been through some thick and thin times?”

Felicity glances between the two and then rolls her eyes. “Yea, I bet. Who drank the last beer and who was somber enough to get more?”

Oliver a little irked, “Wow! Really? He just means we made it through high school. Nothing to deep.”

Tommy can see Felicity size his friend up. Either she was going to go after his male ego or sock him.

“Well! Congratulations on that achievement. You know…”

Cutting her off, “Felicity, here is a Mathalon champion.” Oliver gives a don’t give a hoot look. “One of the reasons we are here tonight is how everyone of us has something to give. Tommy gives Oliver a freaking behave look. It has Oliver raise his hands in surrender but he still has a disgruntled look as Felicity is moving bowls and acting like she owns the place.  

Pulling Tommy to the side, “What’s her deal?”

“I said she was different. She’s the alpha here. Just go along with it.”

“You have got to be kidding me?”

“I swear Ollie give it some time. Just go with it. She’ll win you over.” Oliver just sighs and says fine to his friend. They join the others and Oliver just has a notebook he tries to at first follow everyone and after the first hour Oliver has just mentally closed off this group as he’s been doodling. It takes a hand to his thigh to get him to stir back to present time.

“I brought you a drink. You’ve been creating a really cool masked man, is that a bow?” Oliver looks down to his artwork and doesn’t really know why he drew this. “Well I think its cool. Not much into archery. Well… Not into many sports.”

“I’ve actually done some archery when I was younger.”

“I’m sorry about earlier. It was bad manners and I’m am sorry.”

He doesn’t know what to say so he nods and thanks her for the drink. Somehow from there on he enters the conversation with the group and finds himself walking the remarkable girl who grew on him this bizarre night.

They find themselves in a coffeeshop and there really is no topic off limits. Somehow dating became the subject and within the confides of what they’re talking about she off handily says, “Can you wait for me?”

“If your okay waiting about a week.”

“Huh?”

Seeing her confusion, he’d like to ditch the week thing but he decides to do something different tell her a truth, “I hate that I’m going to say this.” He huffs, “But I’m in a cooling period.”

“Oh! Though you gave yourself a week to figure out things with a girl?”

“What? No. I… I really don’t know much about this cooling off period thing but I’m not in a relationship. I messed up royally.”

“Do you want her back? Maybe talking to someone who isn’t Tommy would do you good.”

“Funny thing is I couldn’t fully ever break up with her.”

“Maybe there is something there. You really do need a cooling off period then.”

“Actually, you don’t understand. I’m not a good boyfriend.” Moaning, “I’ve cheated on her numerous times and yet she’d be disappointed but she’d take me back and the process would continue.”

“Hmm… It seems you are wondering if you a serial cheater? How many other girls have you cheated on?”

“I actually haven’t had many girlfriends. Other than Laurel they were all short lived and I guess no time to cheat.”

“Then you need to tell yourself what makes Laurel different than these girls?”

He doesn’t need time to answer because it flows through his lips, “Because she keeps my mom off my back.” Hearing Felicity making a displeased tone he needs to add, “Yea, I don’t think I need a longer cooling off period to figure that Laurel and I aren’t right for one another.”

“Okay, step one is figuratively figured out. Now you need time to reckon out what you want, to feel your own emotions, and to work on the next two things.”

“There’s more?”

“A week won’t solve anything but if you actually take the time.”

“If I take the time? Like another week?”

“I have no idea. It could take a week, a month.”

He blurts out, “Five years?”

“God, no. Five years would feel like a lifetime.”

Oliver just looks at the girl that is truly different like Tommy said. They keep talking and talking and after a week make it two, they’re still talking. Conversations that last longer as seasons change. Time may pass as they exchange heartfelt dialogue to one another in front of friends and family. Arguments over baby names. Sharing milestone anniversaries.

Although Oliver makes sure to have all the assorted chips under the sun. To him it commemorates one of the best celebrations as for one evening every year they host “Nerdapoolza.” From that one-day years ago every chat with Felicity has pushed him further to accept his situation and commit to change. He is this gleeful man today because he is loved and is loving the best part of him, his amazing tenacious wife.

***Thanks for reading as I try as I might to get all these stories out as soon as I can. It’s been a struggle at times. I have 4 more to go.Thank you all for reading!!!