#it’s Really Funny. that’s what you have to understand

[theemporium]

may i request a mai tai 💛 with nicojack

26 (and 25 if you combine prompts, not sure though!)

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽put this in the frat!universe because i thought you requested it but oh well!!🤠

26. kissing the top of their head

.

Neither you nor Jack could be blamed when it was clearly Nico’s fault for conditioning you both. 

In all honesty, none of you really noticed what he was doing until he stopped. And then suddenly, your world was disjointed and the planets weren’t aligning and the world was tilting on its axis. Something so small and yet so monumental that it was disconcerting when it never happened. 

Because you were so damn used to Nico kissing the top of your heads as a small but heartwarming gesture. 

It was funny, really. The man had done more than enough to make butterflies erupt in your stomach, to make your cheeks burn and your brain to melt until no coherent thoughts were left. He said filthy things in your ear and bent you into positions that had you seeing stars. He had made you feel a million emotions and more. 

But nothing made you feel more loved than the way his hand caressed the back of your head, holding you in place as his lips pressed a loving, lingering kiss on the top of your head. And you knew Jack agreed because you had seen the way his face broke out into a grin after Nico kissed his head—and you knew your face matched his expression. 

That’s why it threw you both off when Nico left one morning for class without kissing either one of you on the head.

You had no classes and Jack’s were later in the afternoon so the two of you were lounging in his room, no real rush to start your day. But Nico was running late, in a bit of a rush as he shoved books into his bag and called out a quick ‘love you!’ before he rushed off. 

You didn’t realise how offended you would be until it happened. 

And you thought you were being dramatic until you turned to look at Jack and found him frowning, a crease formed between his brows as he stared at the door Nico just ran out off. So, if anything, you weren’t being a brat. Or being dramatic. Or silly or theatrical or whatever else the other frat brothers had said. 

You and Jack were being so fair about your reactions, especially when Nico came back from classes and didn’t even try to rectify his mistakes. And especially when it happened a few more times over the next week.

“I don’t understand what’s happened,” Nico tried again as he stared a bit helplessly at you. He had tried to convince Jack to take a nap with him after his class, only for the younger boy to mutter something about studying and needing to go grab some books from Trevor. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you answered simply, your eyes on your laptop instead of the way Nico was sitting on the bed, shorts riding up his thick thighs with his legs spread as far as they were. 

He shot you a look. “So you’re doing this as well?” 

“Doing what?” You questioned innocently, even if your eyes have read over the same sentence more times than you cared to admit because your boyfriend was distracting in those tiny shorts and the small frown on his face.

Nico hummed and, naively, you thought he had let it go. But then you heard him getting up and his footsteps making his way towards you. And you barely had a chance to react before your chair was being spun around and Nico’s arms were locking you in as he leaned over you. 

“I–”

“Tell me what’s bothering you both.” 

You let out a stubborn sigh. “Nothing.”

“Baby, I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong,” Nico said, his voice soft but firm and, fuck, you knew what he was doing. That sweet, coaxing voice he used in bed too when he wanted you to do what he asked, when he had you whining and panting and promised you he would give you what you wanted if you were a little patient. 

The fucker knew what he was doing with that voice.

“C’mon,” he murmured, his accent coating his words to make them that little bit sweeter. “Use your words.”

“You forgot,” you blurted out. 

Nico blinked. “I…forgot?”

“You—” You paused, feeling your cheeks burn a little because, okay, maybe you and Jack were being a little dramatic about the whole thing. And it was only really hitting you when you had to confess it out loud. “You don’t kiss us anymore.” 

Nico blinked again. “Uh, I do, baby. I kiss you and Jack all the time.” 

“Yeah, on the lips but—” You glanced away from him and the contemplative look on his face. “You don’t give us forehead kisses anymore. You used to do it all the time and, I don’t know, you just…forget now.” 

It was silent for a while before you finally gained the courage to look at him, just to find Nico staring at you with a smile on his face and a soft look of adoration in his eyes.

“I didn’t realise you two enjoyed them so much,” he confessed, because for him, it was something instinctive. He just did it because it felt right, not because he thought about it. And something in his chest warmed at the idea that you and Jack craved the affection of it so much.

“Yeah, well…” You trailed off, shrugging your shoulders when words failed to leave your lips. 

“Hmm, m’sorry for neglecting you both then,” Nico murmured and before you could even say anything, you felt both of his hands cupping your face before his head dropped to place a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. “Better?”

“You have a few to make up for,” you retorted and his grin widened. 

However, before Nico could get his retort out, the door opened and Jack wandered back into the room, holding a comically large pile of books (some of which didn’t even belong to classes he took). You snorted at the sight, knowing very well he was making a point as he made his way to the desk to sit beside you.

“Jack,” Nico called out, biting back the smirk on his lips when he watched the younger boy try to act indifferent. 

“Oh, you remember me now?” Jack muttered, keeping his eyes on the books because he knew he would crumble the second he turned to look at his boyfriend.

“C’mere.”

“I’m actually great where I am—hey!” 

But his whining was cut off when, similarly to you, Nico held his head in his hands and used the height difference between them to press a lingering kiss to the top of his messy hair. And when he pulled back, he beamed at the sight of Jack blushing.

“Talk to me next time, okay?”

“Mhm.” 

“Instead of being a brat.”

Jack scoffed. “I was not being a brat.”

“Yeah, you were,” Nico retorted but he sounded fond as he pressed another kiss to his boyfriend’s head. “You both were but, fortunately, I love you both for it.”

.

[thewertsearch]

FUTURE terminallyCapricious [FTC] 0:42:00 HOURS FROM NOW responded to memo. […] FTC: HEY BEST MOTHERFUCKING FRIEND. FTC: what all seems to be the motherfuckin problem? :o) […] CCG: OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD FTC: i'm in your future, best friend. FTC: I KNOW WHERE YOU MOTHERFUCKING ARE. FTC: and what you'll motherfuckin do. […] FTC: and also. […] FTC: i'm all about to be meeting up some friends. :o) […] FTC: i wonder if you can all be at with me in time and make me get my reconsider on?

... is it just me, or does it kind of sound like Gamzee's asking for help here?

Instead of directly threatening his friend, he's asking if Karkat will help him 'reconsider' - almost as though there's a piece of him that doesn't want to be trapped in a murderous rage, and it's trying to make itself heard.

Do I spot some ominous purple text in the corner?

I do.

Well, Terezi isn’t the worst person for Gamzee to run into on his rampage. A Seer like her will immediately understand that he's snapped - and she's no slouch in the combat department, either, so I don't think she'll be easy pickings.

Things might get dicey, however, if Gamzee pulls out the power he used against the Black King. We have no idea what that even looks like - but Terezi does, so she at least shouldn't be blindsided by it.

Anyway, what does our resident detective make of the dearly departed Tavros?

Before the full investigation is underway, a legislacerator will always have a chief suspect in mind. The one she will hold guilty until proven otherwise, a process customarily taking place after the execution.

That sounds about right for the Alternian ‘justice’ system. I’d ask what happens if a suspect is proven innocent after their execution, but that presupposes that Alternia even has a concept of 'proving someone innocent'.

In any case, a stopped clock is still right twice a day, and Terezi's corrupt methods have lead her to the correct culprit. What's her next move?

Above, you detect faint traces of what you reckon to be special stardust, such as the kind left behind by the flapping wings of a mischievous fairy.

I knew Terezi’s sense of smell was impressive, but I didn’t think she could go full bloodhound. She really is the most well-equipped troll for this new, more dangerous Veil.

And not far from that, you detect bright trails of white light. It smells... hopeful.

All three killers are in the vicinity, then.

... look at me, already calling Gamzee a killer. To our knowledge, he hasn't harmed anyone thus far - but I'm fully convinced he intends to, based purely on the strength of his most recent Pesterlogs.

The writing there was genuinely impressive. In just a few dozen lines, Hussie has completely sold me on the idea that the funny meme clown is dead fucking serious about violently murdering his friends.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[fmnlibrary]

I think maybe Kevin Day isn't so much a coward as he is self-saving and afraid. BUT I do think many of the other characters would think of him as a coward

[trashytoastboi]

Day of Dominance - Diavolo

~SFW Alphabet~

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

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

👑 Attention, affection and connection. Diavolo truly thrives on the attention you give him. He understands having to respect his image and will be reserved due to that even though all he wants to do is be affectionate towards you. It’s reserved for when it’s the two of you, or at least when you’re with the circle of people who already know. They all confess that Diavolo’s PDA is a bit much but he trusts them enough to drop his image a little in front of them. Barbatos is just used to seeing Diavolo smothering you with his touch. He’s like an oversized kitten. 

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

👑 The always busy but never too busy for you friend. His responsibilities keep him busy and Diavolo himself is craving any excuse or reason for a break, you give him the perfect reason for that. Honestly watching him sneak out of the castle is funny in itself. He instantly lights up the room with a natural charisma to him, but when it’s just the two of you he’s more focused on having fun. You go quieter places, Diavolo has even attempted a few disguises and the two of you head out incognito. Diavolo usually always has something he wants to try so you’re always doing something different, trying a new place to eat, walking around, shopping, or even going to some of the attractions in the Devildom that his usual fame doesn’t allow him to.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle) 

👑 Diavolo loves cuddles, if he could have you on his lap while he cuddles you on his throne he really would. Barbatos tells him it’s not the proper decorum though :( Enjoys being both the big and little spoon, the little spoon more on days when he’s really exhausted and frustrated. He’ll just snuggle up to you and lay his head on your chest with his arms around you. He won’t say anything, you could sense his unease though and cuddling acts as a form of comfort for him. It also helps him fall asleep when his mind is too busy. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) 

👑 1/10 on domestic skills, not for lack of trying. His cooking is better than Solomon’s. It looks similar and there’s questionable taste. It’s probably going to give you food poisoning but not threaten your life like a certain sorcerer's concoctions of the kitchen. He does try he really does but unintentionally creates more work, an example is when he decided to join you for doing dishes after dinner at the House of Lamentation and broke more plates than he washed…Barbatos very dutifully took over for him. When it comes to settling down, Diavolo regards you as one of the most stable pillars in his life. One of the more honest and genuine people. He loves that about you and settling down doesn’t seem a far stretch from his desire to just be with you all the time. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

👑 Puts on demon lord mode. He’s suddenly serious and very formal. He says what needs to be said and he’s eloquent about it. The moment he’s finished all of his practiced words, he is trying to hold himself together because he’s more heartsore and sad about this than you could imagine. He might cry a little the moment he was left alone. He doesn’t do it without reason either and will explain his side of things so there are no questions left unanswered, it’s the least he could do. It’s painful and upsetting for both of you. 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married.)

👑 He’s all for it but the decision is not his alone, an unfortunate circumstance of his position. If he does announce his desire to marry you- there would be opposition and a lot of politics involved. Diavolo honestly doesn’t want to involve you in that sort of mess. He’s devoted to you and you’ve never questioned that before. However, Diavolo might keep his desire to marry you to himself. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally.)

👑 He’s a sunflower to you. Endlessly gentle and you think it's sweet how the strongest demon is the squishiest with you. He’s got a good sense of his strength and knows not to overdo it with you. His extra care always shows through his actions and how he handles himself around you. Emotionally he’s soft, sometimes he gets wrapped up in trying to keep his problems to himself and shuts you out as a result of that.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) 

👑 Diavolo is a fan of hugs and says they always recharge him. You adore how he brightens up after a hug, whether it’s a quick one or a longer one. If he’s able to, he'll pull you into a quick hug before running along to his next meeting, just to give him a little extra spring in his step. If he has the time and the privacy he pulls you into those tight hugs. Feeling your warmth and form in his arms. He’ll just enjoy the moment with you, and rest his head on yours.  

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-Word) 

👑 He’s a master of choosing his words carefully and preventing any slips of the tongue. You’re probably one of the only people who can get him all tongue tied, breaking the infallible appearance he cultivates for others. The simple words bear a heavy weight when there is meaning to them, Diavolo understands this well and so he didn’t throw them around meaninglessly. He meant it, whenever he told you he loved you. It was his honest feelings, and he said it pretty quickly, because he just knew he is so in love with you. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?) 

👑 Diavolo doesn’t show his jealousy even if he really is jealous. He’s not vengeful or angry about it. It makes him more insecure and sad than anything, he’s just envious that he isn’t spending as much time with you as others are. He’d never choose to isolate you, nor is he thinking that it’s something else. He trusts you implicitly. It’s more his own desire to spend more time with you and honestly…He’d like to have your attention on him. He enjoys when you dote on him and it makes him sulk a bit if you’re not doing it as much. 

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

👑 His kisses are sweet, and very passionate. Diavolo has to limit himself to little pecks, or a kiss on the hand if he’s careful about the eyes that are around. When comfortable and not caring about the company there, (mostly his inner circle and those he trusts) he’s more open about it. He kisses you deeply, with all his repressed affection. He likes kissing the top of your head, your nose, your lips and your hands, he likes being kissed by you- full stop. Doesn’t matter where, but if you kiss his hand he finds it adorable and it makes him a little bashful. 

L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)

👑 He’s loud, boisterous and energetic. He has a friendly feel to him and children naturally gravitate towards Diavolo. He’s good at handling kids, he knows how to talk to them and they seem to naturally follow his lead. Diavolo finds kids really cute, yeah they can be a bit messy and disastrous but it's just because they’re kids. He’s forgiving, patient and understanding. He never raises his voice in anger but he can get a little nervous if the kids get too rowdy because he’s concerned about them hurting themselves. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

👑 Mornings with Diavolo are a little more relaxed than one would expect. A big part of that is thanks to Barbatos, he wakes the two of you up with some tea. While getting ready Barbatos has already sorted out breakfast and he’s on top of everything. It’s a little weird not doing anything, but from the moment Diavolo wakes up he’s already preparing for the day. Trying to get his schedule in order and make sure he knows all the meetings he has to go to, responsibilities he has to attend to and anything else. He always makes time for a good morning kiss though. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

👑 He’s tired, sometimes a little more stressed than he lets on. He just wants to spend time with you, unwind and maybe do something he doesn’t often have time for. He’ll lay in your arms and ask questions about the human world and humans. He’s excited to learn about you and your home. He asks the strangest questions at times but you know it stems from genuine curiosity. As long as he can rest a little and be with you he’ll unwind enough to fall asleep. Something he really appreciates is when you let him lay his head in your lap and you pet his head or play with his hair. It puts him to sleep every time. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while and reveal things slowly?)

👑 He’s easily open and honest about most things. To you at least, but he’s lived a life of having to bury his real self under pressures of a position and facades by necessity. It takes a bit more trust and comfort before he’s opening up his true self to you. You feel like you’re looking at a different person whenever you see him concealing himself to evade showing weakness or what could be perceived as weakness in his responsibilities. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) 

👑 Patience is a virtue, one he has plenty of. It isn’t often when you’ve seen Diavolo truly angry, maybe never. He holds back a lot and tries to find a more diplomatic and calmer way of solving things. Even in moments of intense duress he keeps his head about him, he has too. He can get worked up but he deals with it really well and tries to work through it rather than acting on it. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or they kind of or forget everything?) 

👑 He’s excited to learn about you and will ask various questions pertaining to ANYTHING you tell him. He’ll remember the things you tell him, sometimes details get a little muddled because he has a lot on his plate but you appreciate the amount of thought he always gives with anything and everything he does for you. If he does forget something he’s honest, he’ll apologize and ask you to remind him. Usually a little reminder sparks it again and he’ll be able to recall the finer details. 

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

👑 The first time you snuck him out of the castle to go on a secret date. It’s his favorite memory. How you very bravely broke into the castle without getting caught (You did but you somehow convinced Barbatos to let you go and not mention anything to Diavolo) you gave him a very interesting disguise and the two of you snuck out (it wasn’t that hard since Barbatos practically let the two of you out) and went around Devildom on your date. The awkward part was both of you getting back and Barbatos, true to his word of pretending not to know anything, was waiting for Diavolo, late at night asking where he had been if not in bed. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

👑 Diavolo is protective of you in different ways and he always asks you to take care and stay safe. Whether he is protecting you against a threat- say a rabid monster, or something like safeguarding you from the snakes who are trying to undermine his position he does it gladly. He wants you to be safe and happy, he’s often got to think about the good of Devildom in his decisions but he always tries to find a way and means to protect you. You protect him in every way you can, despite his protests, you want him to be safe and feel like someone has his back no matter what happens. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

👑 Within his means (limited time) he tries his hardest to make things happen. He pushes himself a little hard with work to free himself up for the evening so he can invite you to eat dinner with him, he ropes Barbatos into helping him decide on gifts, or plans for anniversaries where to go and what to do if it’s romantic enough for the two of you. Sometimes his plans don’t always work out and that's okay because you know how hard Diavolo always tries for you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

👑 Trying to shoulder the burden and bear the weight of the world, always. In a sense it’s not an overstatement considering he is the leader of the Devildom. Diavolo tries not to rely on others, and he has a difficult time asking for help and communicating that he needs a little rest. Instead he’ll stretch himself thin, overwork himself and burn himself out. It’s awful to see and you always tell him to rely on you more because you can handle it. Diavolo is insistent on bearing his own work, much to your frustration. You can only support him quietly as much as you can and hope to relieve some of his struggle. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) 

👑 He’s sensitive to his appearance, he has to be. If he looks a little sloppy or unkempt people could pick him apart and question him over something so insignificant. Diavolo is very involved in the upkeep of his appearance; everything from clothing to grooming is meticulous. He actually enjoys the days he gets to dress down a little and when you tell him his bed hair is cute and just love him no matter what his current state. 

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

👑 He’d feel your absence deeply. It will affect him for a long time and he’d find himself unable to concentrate on work or his day to day tasks, his mind would constantly go back to you. He’d mope a lot because he wants you here with him and if you’re not it makes him worry about you. If you’re doing okay, looking after yourself, if everything is fine. He wonders if you think about him even a little as much as he thinks about you. Diavolo didn’t realize he would be so affected by someone as much as this. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

👑 He likes it when you come to visit him while he’s holed up in his office. Your presence makes him happy and even if you’re doing your own thing while sitting with him, Diavolo is happy and can work a little faster and with more energy. All for the sake of finishing up quickly so he can spend time with you properly. Barabatos invites you over whenever he feels Diavolo is struggling because you have such a positive effect on his work and his general well being.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

👑 He doesn’t like unkind and deceitful people. Those who approach him with the intent of using or manipulating him for his position alone. People who come with false intentions are the worst kind and Diavolo has had to deal with the type since he was very young. He’s gotten better at discerning people and the reasons for them approaching him. He forges new relationships with a lot of internal hesitation and keeps them very much at a distance until he’s certain of their intentions.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) 

👑 He wakes up a lot in the middle of the night and his sleep is usually disturbed because his mind is too busy. He’ll lay awake, tossing and turning and trying to sleep. He finds the nights when he gets the best sleep is when you’re with him. If you have to get up in the middle of the night whether for some water or needing the bathroom, if you don’t give Diavolo something to snuggle in your place then he’ll wake up and be sad to see you’re not next to him. He’s extra clingy when he’s half asleep.

Taglist: @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @roninfromtheops

[coffeedepressionsoup]

Somebody Does Love | MYG - She Thinks She Falls First

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.

This is the one where she explores her very mild crush on him. Part 5 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 4k+

Warnings - lil swearing, drinking, Yoongi’s fluffy hair, Yoongi’s hands

Ratings - 13+

Taglist: @majiiisstuff @starlighttaek8 @yoongrace @proudnoona @7ndipity

A/N - I start working a 10-hour shift in less than two hours and I have not slept a wink. This has been sitting in drafts for way too long and I have no idea why I was resolute to finish it today. It might seem a bit all over the place, but hey, welcome to my head, I live like this.

The word count is definitely not my way of overcompensating for the prolonged absence. Partially proofread. The chapter naming has been lame. I know. But it is what it is. Also here is the closest thing I found on the internet to the Woolfie + Ash dynamic I am imagining. And the Yoongi in my mind as I was writing this, in case you are wondering.

I am using my last two brain cells to upload this. Please like, comment, and reblog to share your thoughts and feedback. DM me if you want to be added to/removed from the tag list. This delirious fever dream is now yours to deal with. Enjoy!

“I still don’t understand what you mean by a memorable smirk. Why are you bothered at all by someone’s smirk?”

“I mean it’s the cutest smirk ever and I know “smirks a lot” does not paint an endearing picture, but like- what he has mostly is not a smile, but you know he is having a good time. Like he’s too lazy to have a full grin and the best he can do is pull up his lips slightly and-”

“This is borderline creepy now. Why-”

“Are you not listening? He’s just cute and I cannot forget about his smile.”

“Well, isn’t he too lazy to-”

“UGH!! You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, you have it bad.”

“I don’t have anything. And it’s not bad…”

“But?”

“He’s cute. Funny. Attentive. And nice hands.”

“Really?” In their almost half an hour conversation, it’s the first genuine curiosity Samairah has shown about your supposed crush.

You now had a triumphant smirk yourself and nodded, “Yes, very nice hands.”

“You do realise that you can yourself ask him out?” Samairah quirked her brows, her tone reminding you of a disappointed tutor.

“I know! But bro! He’s really good friends with Sammy and they work closely and it can get so messy.”

It has been 10 days since you walked in on Sammy and Yoongi in the middle of a songwriting session at almost midnight. 10 days since you knew for sure that Yoongi’s hair felt softer than it already looked. 10 days since your first -

“Sure it can. But it can go well too especially since he seems interested as well,” Samairah said after gulping down the rest of her banana oat smoothie.

You could not help but bark out a disbelieving laughter, “Yeah right..”

“What?”

“He seems interested, you said.”

“Yeah and?”

“That doesn’t seem likely.”

“Why?”

Because he is an international icon and probably the hottest rapper-producer on planet Earth and you were whoever you are. But you did not want to tell her that. In fact, all Samairah knew about your “crush” was that you met him at a house party and he is close with one of your best friends. Not that you wanted to lie or actively hide anything from her. She had not asked for a name when you had not given one. And she did not mind that. She knew you would have your reasons and will tell her if and when you want to. Your friendship was comfortable like that.

All you said out loud was, “Because he does not seem interested. You are just saying shit because you want me to ask him out.”

“And that would be a bad motivator why exactly?” Before you could fully roll your eyes at the rhetorical question, she started listing out in a matter-of-fact tone, overstating her points by holding up a finger with each of them, “You are clearly infatuated with him. Also, to be quite honest everything you told me up until now screams like the first few chapters of an idiot-to-lovers trope story.”

“Fucking hell! Hold your horses Mari. What lovers? We haven’t even gone on a single date yet.”

“He made japchae the exact way you like it, the very next day that you talked about it, which was apparently also the day you first met!” Samairah’s exasperated tone shut you up. It did strike you as odd when that happened. But you remember feeling more endeared and way too many butterflies in your gut at his presence to register and/or question the legitimacy of his “made too much” excuse at the time.

“And he’s dropping by willy-nilly wherever you are at.”

No, I mean, he had very valid reasons all of those times. Right?

Right.

Even at the vet’s appointment for Ash earlier that week.

He could not possibly have waited a couple more days till you were all supposed to meet at Aera’s place to return the portable charger he borrowed. You might need it on your daily commute and if anything, nobody should be trapped in Seoul traffic with a dead phone. What would you stare at? The people in the car window next to you? The ones hanging off the same supporting rail as you on the train? No, Yoongi had been considerate.

Sammy had turned up at Genius Lab aka Yoongi’s studio and they played around with the chorus of the song they were working on one afternoon. Once they were satisfied with a structure, Sammy politely turned down Namjoon’s offer for a drink (which caught Yoongi’s attention because when has any of his friends ever declined a drink) on his way out, saying he had to drive Y/N and Ash to the vet since you don’t feel comfortable driving on Seoul roads yet, despite carrying a valid International Driver's Permit.

The mention of your name drove Yoongi quieter and turned his ears and cheeks red at an alarming speed. Did the boys notice? Yes. Did Yoongi catch them exchanging a knowing smirk following that? No. Did he ask for details of the vet clinic and the time of appointment? Yes. Did he say out loud that he is free to drive Y/N, in fact, he would gladly volunteer? No. Did Sammy update an innocuous group chat with Yoongi’s ‘being in the neighbourhood and deciding impulsively to give the power bank back’ appearance later that evening? Yes. Did anyone buy that excuse? No.

Not even you. Not when he sputtered it out initially. Not when he took off his mask momentarily in an almost empty reception to shower Ash with a bunch of kisses. Not even when a pang of unspecified recognition hit you. You did not believe him.

Just Sunday night, that is tonight, Aera had invited all her close friends for a housewarming party. You first met her a couple of years ago through Dojoon. She was a doctor. And Dojoon’s friend. With some benefits. There are times when their friends swear they are dating. Then there are times when they know not to speak of each other in front of them. The fact that Aera’s new apartment is directly across from the hall from Dojoon’s is officially supposed to be coincidental. She apparently realised after she finalised with the agent that she was standing in a familiar hallway. And yeah, every one of you decided to believe it, of course.

So yeah, the charger return could have waited but you decided to believe it was because Yoongi did promise to return it ASAP and that particular Wednesday evening was it. He was a man of his word. He had flown away for a short work trip to Osaka for two days. His phone was almost out of charge. He had to drive directly to the airport. In fact, Soojin was waiting for him, with all his essentials on standby. You, however, figured he would not have time to get his charger. So you voluntarily offered your portable one to him.

He could just use the direct charger in his car. But you did not think of it at the moment. And Yoongi did not remind you of it. He took the one you offered. Used it on his way to the airport, through his stay in Osaka and charged it back up once he returned, carrying it around in his jacket with his wallet and keys.

Now, as to why would you be with him when his phone was almost dying and he was about to fly out of the country? It’s because Yoongi was at Sammy’s place, trying to write a song. Pleasantly buzzed on beer and completely engrossed in the task. And you were, as of the last discussion on the matter, Sammy’s housemate. Yes, plans changed since you first arrived in the city, and you would say for the better. Living with Sammy was not as chaotic as you anticipated and once you saw Ash and Woolfie bonding, you did not have the heart to separate them or yourself away from the duo. And the “people always coming over to Sammy’s and not having the bandwidth to deal with it” was not a particular problem at the moment.

You had grown quite fond of the most frequent visitor.

The first night you walked in to unexpectedly find Yoongi at Sammy’s place, you remember the knots building up in your stomach. You had not yet acknowledged your evident crush on him. You would think the older people got, the easier it was to deal with all this. Bullshit.

It did not help that soon after Sammy left to walk Woolfie. You tried to keep your tone and conversation as neutral as possible. And you would like to believe you succeeded. Once you managed to convince him to stay for dinner (to be honest, all you had to do was ask once), you excused yourself to go wash up. You squealed into your damp towel as you found yourself carefully styling your hair to appear as carelessly proper as possible.

Your squeal had not reached Yoongi several rooms away but it had managed to wake your fur baby up from her nap. She yawned, stretched, itched the back of her ears with her paws and marched out of your room alongside you to greet the man. The greeting she extended was calculated for the first couple of minutes, as she went around sniffing and staring at him from different angles around his feet. Soon she decided to lick her stamp of approval on his nose once she allowed him to pick her up. Since then she remained on his lap, by his feet or on his shoulder, till the time he left.

The conversation, guided by Ash’s heartwarming existence, revolved comfortably around pets. He asked about your childhood pets and told you about his. He also proudly spoke about the different personalities of Tony and Scar, his two rescue cats. Once you asked to see pictures, you were allowed to surf through two whole albums with hundreds of photos of the cats as well as Holly, the famed cockapoodle.

You caught yourself staring at him a few times that night, making you the second person to do so. You stared at his bright, warm eyes that had a certain glimmer that you could not define. Sometimes you stared at the way he threw back his head in laughter and the bobble of his Adam’s apple. Oh, his laughter! The sound of it! The look of it! You noticed it more than you did the previous night. The lines it created around his mouth and his eyes, you wanted to trace them lightly with your fingers and later intertwine them with his slender ones. Not just his fingers though, you noticed the way his forearm would subtly flex every time he pushed his hair back in the middle of conversation. And his fucking hair.

It is the softest head of hair you have ever seen, you could swear. You thought it was difficult not to actually reach out and feel it on the first night he came over. That was until the second time. You were sitting much closer together at that time. You were much more drunk than the two beers you had with dinner the last time. You also had much more daydreaming under your belt about the man sitting beside you. If you had not chickened out at the last minute, you wondered if you could thread your fingers in his hair to hold him closer in a kiss. You wondered the same at different times on different days till 10 days back.

You were pretty drunk from the departmental dinner with your colleagues. Samairah had been on driving duty that evening and pretty sober. She offered to walk you to the elevators of the building when she came to drop you off but you promised you could manage by yourself. And you did. But the walls along the way were integral to your vertical stability.

In half a mind to ring the bell instead of punching the code in, you leaned against the doorframe for a few moments. Composing yourself a bit, you let yourself in, steady enough to walk straight, away from walls.

As you walked towards the hall area, you heard guitar strumming and distinct humming voices. Voice-s. Multiple. Two, to be precise. And you need not be alarmed. The second voice could be anybody. Except it wasn’t. You recognised Yoongi’s deep, now slightly raspy voice over Sammy’s. Before you turned from the narrow entryway to the room, you could feel your heartbeat rise and your hands started feeling clammy.

The boys did not notice you come in.

As Sammy lightly hummed a melody and typed into the laptop in front of him, Yoongi kept playing a distinct hook on what you recognised as one of Sammy’s guitars.

“Do you see what I mean-” Yoongi asked and paused before changing to a different set of chords, this one more mellow than before. With the change, you noticed his tongue slightly poke out the side of his mouth, set in deep concentration.

Sammy took a sip out of an opened can of beer lying on the floor between them. Who knows which is whose anymore? He nodded looking down at his phone, and started singing some words out with the tune he was humming before.

Yoongi let out a non-verbal sound you could best define as a soft groan of approval as you saw him changing the chords to match the tune Sammy was singing.

You probably would have stood there till either of the two turned to see you. But your phone pinged with a notification alert and although it wasn’t too loud, it stood out enough for both Yoongi and Sammy to pivot from their places on the ground near the sofa.

Feeling conscious of the newly gained attention of the whole room, you tried to laugh off the cocktail of nervous surprise and drunken flush. “Hi,” you waved a little.

Sammy patted the spot next to him, sipping on one of the open beers again, “Come listen to this,” and started humming again.

You walked over as steadily and casually as possible and when you sat down, you could hear a soft “hi” escape Yoongi’s slightly parted lips. You smiled at him and could see a smile threatening to break out on his face as well, which appeared when you said, “You’re red,” and immediately bit your lips because ‘Wow were you drunk.’

Yoongi tried his best to explain that it was just the alcohol and that it was uncharacteristically hot tonight. You nodded and decided to honour his failing defence once your eyes met. But you also felt like you could see through him at the time. You could seemingly read a similar pining and nervousness within him that you felt. But you tried convincing yourself that half of it was spirit-induced delusions.

“Is this a new song?” you leant over to see the laptop screen which Sammy turned slightly for your ease and nodded.

“Genius here wrote this under 10 minutes,” he gestured towards the accused.

Yoongi felt “redder” but it physically was not possible. His sense of embarrassment, however, was graver than before. “Fuck no, I just came up with some beats. Sammy filled these in,” he protested and leaned over to trace over the mixer timeline on the laptop.

To do that though, he had to lean over you. Partly. And when he did, there was a pregnant pause in the room.

Yoongi stilled the moment he could feel your breath fanning his ear. You froze when you caught a whiff of his… shampoo? Cologne? Aftershave? All of it? You were not a perfumer by any means, but if your olfactory senses served you right, you are pretty sure that is the best smell any human being has ever exuded. Contrarians could argue with the wall.

Sammy was not unmoving but he chose to remain quiet with a wide grin on his face.

Yoongi withdrew after a millenium-long two-second pause and cleared his throat.

You followed suit and said, “It sounds good regardless. Fresh,” to neither of the boys in particular. All your drunken slur had vanished in a whiff of what you decided your favourite smell was going to be henceforth.

Later in the night, once you freshened up and made coffee for everyone, and the guitar and laptop were put away, you all ended up talking about life, love and well, love life.

Sammy believed in the possibility of love at first sight, as did Yoongi. “Yeah, I think it is quite romantic. I don’t think it happens to many people or as often as people claim. But I believe it is a reality for some people.”

After taking in the silent nods across the room, he tipped his slightly towards you, and asked, “What about you?”

“Oh I don’t believe it exists,” you said after a small sip of your flat white.

“Love at first sight?”

“Yeah”

“Doesn’t exist?”

“I cannot imagine it does, no,” you chuckled out this time at Yoongi’s apparent disbelief.

Yoongi nodded slowly, with a smile of his own accompanied by a slight scowl.

Sammy, having chugged his hazelnut cold coffee, was now lying on the couch, half asleep. He nudged Yoongi’s back lightly with his knee, and said, “Ask her why.”

“Go the fuck off to slee-”

“Why?”

You cursed out and Yoongi asked sincerely at the same moment. Your eyes met.

You swore you could get lost in them, stare at them forever. Memorise every line and freckle.

“I don’t think it’s practical.”

“Love is wild, subjective. It does not need to be practical or rational.”

“There’s a semblance of cause for the effect that we experience as love. They are adorable,” you pointed to Wooflie and Ash locked in a defensive face-off mid-zoomies on the other side of the room. You then moved to point at the guitar and the laptop, “This brings you joy.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows pulled together in a scowl. You had concluded by now that was indicative of his increased attention level. You continued, “We know they are likely to leave us behind one day and you know making music and putting it out there is tough, challenging but you love these anyway. I think we choose to love something or someone despite a lot of shortcomings or adversities. Not because they behave in a manner or look a certain way. And I believe you need more than a sight for that to happen.”

You drew in a deep breath and looked away. You had held his gaze for too long than is comfortable for him, you thought. And then you rambled on about love. It sounded so annoying and pretentious when you thought back. You were certain that you had sabotaged any budding chance for romance you had by dissing on something as romantic as love at first sight.

All that was conjecture, of course, but you would not find out about that until much later.

Yoongi’s scowl remained as it was when he said, “That is so romantic.”

Before you could reply, Sammy quipped in. “That she is.”

It made Yoongi smile and you huff lightly in mock disbelief. The conversation was then interrupted by you being tackled down by Woolfie. Unbeknownst to you, the zoomies area of dispatch had shifted to where you were sitting.

You laughed as you pet the husky back when he licked your face and play-growled at Ash to join in. The cat, however, refused to get on the floor as if it was lava. She marched promptly from one of the armrests on the sofa, to a cushion near Sammy’s head. She then gently kneaded into the cushion, occasionally sniffing and biting into it.

One moment of bliss but soon chaos erupted.

The cushion burst open in the room, spilling the contents within the room and onto Sammy and Yoongi, who were closer to the scene of the crime.

Either spooked by the loud noise or to escape admonishment, the kitten responsible for the mishap had darted back to the other end of the room. Woolfy followed suit.

You looked at Sammy, who had miraculously fallen asleep in the few seconds since his cocky quip, evident from the soft snores, and then locked eyes with Yoongi once more.

By his episodic blinking and alert posture, you could tell he was startled. Once he met your eyes though, both of you fell into a giggle as you took in the situation and saw the cotton all over, especially on him.

He managed to dust off most of it, collecting it all and intentionally dropping and arranging it over Sammy’s unfazed body. You laughed louder seeing the juvenile prank unfold, but quickly covered your face to muffle it lest you wake your friend up.

Once you managed to gather your composure, you saw a cotton ‘snowman’ over Sammy’s torso and the likeness of a Santa beard over his face. As all true friends should, the two of you were quick to pull out your phone and click a respectable couple of images before turning to look at each other again.

With every time your eyes met, you felt like you could understand more of what they said. This time around, it was something like, “I am glad I have this moment with you.” You fiercely agreed with the thought, internally, of course. It was not all conjecture. But you did not know yet.

You looked around and realised the mess once again. Sooner or later you had to clean it up. The easiest place to begin was the cups. You picked up two and on cue, Yoongi grabbed the third as you filed towards the kitchen.

He caught up to you in two strides and at the sink, grabbed for the washpad first. At your silent protests of a frown and attempt to grab the item back, “Please, I got this.”

It was soft. Short. Sure. Sweet?!

You were about to sigh and step back when your eyes went to his hair. Well, you didn’t mean to ogle at him up close but a couple of balls of lint caught in his dark locks disrupted your plans.

Almost instinctively, you reached out and murmured, “Oh, you have-”

Words got stuck in your throat. You could almost feel the air being kicked out of your system when you felt his soft hair under your fingers. You did not move your hands for a beat. And two.

And on the third, as you pulled the lint out, you could not help, but lightly comb through the side of his head.

Once, for good measure. Twice, for good luck. Cannot have lints clumped wildly on THE Min Yoongi’s hair now of course.

At the second glide of your nails against his head, Yoongi choked in a bubbling moan but shut his eyes to feel it better, to relieve the tingle and just take it all in.

However, the tingle also caused his arms to jerk in a manner that knocked off the cup he was meant to be washing off his hands.

As both of you scrambled to prevent another household item from being destroyed that night, you were caught in another unblinking stare-off with Yoongi. You managed to grab the cup from hitting the floor and Yoongi ended up ‘cupping’ your hands.

The touch. Electrifying. Not just figuratively. You could sense this all over. And it was just his palms over the back of your hands.

Despite them being wet, his hands were quite warm. Immediately then you decided what your favourite hand warmer was.

Your heart rate picked up at an alarming rate though once you felt one of his thumbs rub a small spot over your hands.

Your gaze, still unmoving. Your breaths, unsteady.

You possibly would have stayed in that staredown, had Yoongi’s phone not vibrated in his pocket, with a call from Soojin, asking him to leave on time for the airport, since earlier today the global rap sensation requested his manager to allow him to drive to the airport himself. Change of pace, more time alone with his thoughts, he thought.

Scurrying out for the airport while touching (almost holding) your hands was not on his bingo card. But there he was.

[kana-de]

mind empty just imagining levi with a lieutenant!reader as keeping to yourselves as he is. bearing everything by yourself, not getting a chance to grieve (especially in the survey corps), and thus resulting in your emotions being bottled up for so long that you forget when you last got the time to mourn the loss of yet another one of your comrades. you've been through so much you don't even understand if you even can grieve anymore.

and the more time you and levi spend together — doesn't matter if it's on expeditions or randomly meeting each other in the halls of the hq — the more he starts to understand that what he sees in you is just a reflection of himself; of his own mindset and feelings.

and it's funny, really — he's basically observing himself from the outside.

levi can't say you two are close. of course, he's working on it (he really is trying), because the pull he has towards you hasn't ever wavered in the years he's known you, but it's so hard considering the circumstances you're living in. one day he's finally trying to open up to you, talking to you about how he'd lived in the underground all his childhood, and how much deaths he'd witnessed in his life that he'd long lost count of, and the next day he can find out you'd been eaten by a titan on another one of your stupidly dangerous expeditions.

and he knows, he knows that you're strong — shit, you basically equal him — that you can handle yourself in such dangerous situations where a normal person would die of shock immediately, that you're his god damn lieutenant, and you deserve your rank, but still there's this gnawing feeling in the back of his mind whenever he gets to know that you and your squad are leaving for yet another expedition, and he hates it.

every time you leave beyond the walls, levi tells you "don't die", or threatens that he'd come and get you in, quote, "wherever you go after death and kick your ass myself, lieutenant" when he has a particularly anxious feeling about the upcoming mission.

sometimes you come back with half your squad gone, sometimes with only a few people dead — doesn't matter how much, he sees the effect the losses have on you every single time, and he can't even bring himself to think of something akin to "they've been here for so long, should've gotten used already", because he himself isn't sure if he had gotten used to that.

and with the way you've both been so emotionally closed off for so long, levi can't help but start noticing how you finally start opening up to him, bits by bits, even if it's later than all of his attempts to do the same, but he's so fucking grateful you do, because he's never had the decency to come up to you and ask you to just talk. and it feels like such an accomplishment to him – to get a person with the same traumas as him to open up.

and when he thinks how proud he is of you, to try and start overcoming your own fears, to tell him the bits of your past and your fears and traumas, levi understands that he himself is becoming more open in your conversations; you helped him in finally opening his soul up after god knows how many decades, and to no one other than you.

the concept of time was foreign to both of you. as said before, nobody ever knew what would happen later today, tomorrow, the next week or month. but levi knows that now that you're in his life, guiding him through the debris of the mess that is his mind, death doesn't matter anymore, as you both try to live right now.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 9)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Y/N finally feels ready to take the next step in her relationship with Rafe, but she gets scared off.

Masterlist

Sabrina’s birthday party is the first social outing of Stella’s that Rafe goes to with his girls. He can’t necessarily say he loves being surrounded by other people’s screaming children and talking to boring ass parents, but he knows it is a part of parental duties. Stella is off in the bouncy castle with her friends and Rafe can’t help watching her like a hawk. He saw a video of a bouncy castle lifting off on Instagram and he is not going to let that happen to his little girl. Y/N reassured him that it wasn’t windy enough for that to happen and if it did get bad enough, he could be the first one to get her out of there. At the thought of Y/N, his eyes look for her in the crowd of adults. He finds her picking at the cardboard-tasting cake that is supposed to be sugar-free, dairy-free, eggs-free, flour-free and who knows what else. Rafe understands that children’s allergies can be serious, but people would be lying if they said this stuff doesn’t taste like anything that people would enjoy. Cake is a dessert; it’s supposed to be sugary and sweet.

He can see the disappointment on her face. She was so excited about the cake on the car ride over here, so he made a note to buy her one on the way home. They haven’t been on their date yet because they have both been so busy with Stella and work. Plus, Y/N made him promise to keep going to his sobriety resources so it has been conflicting with their schedule too. He is dying to go on the date with her; he needs to clear his work schedule for next week. Maybe they can go on a date while Stella is at daycare. Hmm, he should take her to that little bakery he found near his apartment that has a red velvet cake she would love. 

His focus is on Y/N completely and he doesn’t notice Raquelle's appearance beside him. Like poof. Her raspberry-red hair looks nothing like her son’s dark chocolate. Her long stiletto-shaped nails make Rafe wonder how she could do anything with them on. The point of her nails scratches at the fabric of his shirt on his chest. This draws his attention, causing him to look away from his love. “So… You’re Stella’s dad,” she states, giving him a Cheshire cat smile. He pulls away from her touch, “Yeah, I am. And you are Raquelle, right? Will’s mom.” “That I am. You know, I had Willy pretty young too. And I’m not married or dating anyone,” she flirts, batting her eyes. Rafe thinks she might have something wrong with her eyes. Should he call an ambulance for her? It would be bad for her to die in front of the kids. He knows she is flirting, but for once in his life, he doesn’t know what to do. Normally, he would flirt back, which isn’t what he wants to do with Y/N in his life. 

“Okay… I don’t really know what to do with that information,” he posits, looking around for anyone else to talk to because it doesn’t seem Raquelle is getting the message. 

Stella’s bounce loses its pep as she watches Will’s mommy talk to her daddy. Ms. Raquelle is giving her daddy a funny smile and she doesn’t like it. Her eyes find her mommy, spotting the way her maternal parent is glancing in Rafe’s direction. Y/N’s eyes lost the shine they had and her smiles turned fake. Stella can only conclude the reason for her mother’s upset is Ms. Raquelle touching Rafe. She scrambles out of the jumping house, sliding down the exit until her feet find solid ground. Her shoes are on the wrong foot but she doesn’t seem to understand it is the cause for her toes being pinched. Sabrina’s mom is handing out juice boxes and she grabs a cranberry one from her even though she hates cranberry.

 Rafe will always spot Stella in a crowd; his eyes are now trained to always be looking. So when he sees her running towards him with a juice box, he preemptively kneels to her height. Raquelle pauses her conversation to watch the father-daughter reunion. “Daddy, can you open my juice box, please?” Stella asks, holding up the box to him. He happily takes it and kisses her head, “Of course, little witch.” He puts the straw in for her and gently hands it back to her. “Okay, now, be careful. Don’t squeeze it.” She brings it to her lips taking a sip of the bitter concoction she hates. Her child reflexes kick in and she spews red juice all over Raquelle’s white skirt. “Ew, yucky,” Stella whines in disgust. Raquelle lets out a loud yelp as her hands fly to her skirt. “Stella, we don’t do that when we don’t like something,” he addresses Stella first before turning to Raquelle. “I am so sorry, Ms. Walker. I’m sure some bleach might get that off.” She tries to give him a genuine smile, but when she looks at Stella, it is clear she is annoyed. She heads to the bathroom, so Rafe picks up his daughter. Stella fears she is about to be reprimanded, yet the laugh Rafe lets out changes her mind. “You are one smart cookie, little witch. Thank you for saving Daddy,” he praises, pressing his lips to her cheek. She beams at his words and brings him closer to her with her arms around his neck. “You’re welcome, Daddy. She was making Mommy sad,” she informs her father. Rafe glances at Y/N, “Really? I guess we should go give Mommy some kisses to show her how much we love her.”

Stella wiggles out of grasp, wanting to be the first person to reach her mother for a kiss. Rafe smiles at the scene of Stella running into Y/N’s arms. Y/N kisses her daughter’s cheek and giggles at something she said. Rafe wants moments similar to these forever. He wants to give his two girls the world. 

——

Stella sits at the counter at the Diner, watching her mother go through some receipts opposite her. “Mommy, will you ever go on a date with Daddy?” Stella ponders out loud. Her feet swing at a quick pace like she is in a swim meet. Y/N gives the girl a surprised look, “I will eventually.”

“When is it eventually?”

“When I finally get all my work done and you have someone to look after you.”

“You are done with all your work. And Uncle Joshy or Benny could watch me. Auntie Sarah and Wheezie can too. So why don’t you want to go out with Daddy?” 

Y/N’s hand reaches out for her daughter, gently squeezing the young girl’s cheeks together. “My baby is so smart. I do want to go out with Daddy. I’m just a little scared,” Y/N confesses. Stella’s head tilts, “Why? Daddy is really nice.” 

“He is, Baby. But Daddy could have lots of intelligent and wonderful girls, while Mommy hasn’t been on a date since you were born.” 

“You don’t have to be afraid. Daddy loves us both very much. I can see it, Mommy.” 

Y/N didn’t know Stella was the president of the Rafe and Y/N fan club, but she finds it adorable. “Okay, maybe I’ll go over to Daddy’s house after work. Do you want Uncle Benny or Josh to watch you?” she asks, pulling her phone out. Stella takes a second to think, “Uncle Joshy. I want to eat dinner tonight.” It cracks Y/N up that Stella understands her uncles’ personalities so well. Even when Y/N was younger, Josh was always more responsible than their older brother. Benedict would babysit and they’d eat candy for dinner while Josh forced them to have some vegetables as dessert. “Okay, Baby. I’ll get Uncle Josh to come over.”

——

She gets out of her car, making sure to lock it before entering the apartment building. The concierge knows her by now and asks her to sign in without an issue. Her nail finds a way between her teeth, nervously turning the smooth surface into a jagged mess. The elevator dings and she steps onto it. Her mind is going over what she is going to say like a mantra. She wants this to be perfect for them because if this is the start of their story, it needs to be a good one. As she steps out of the moving contraption, her eyes fall on someone unexpected at his door. 

There is no reason for Raquelle to be at his place unless Y/N misinterpreted what she thought to be a one-sided flirty conversation at Sabrina’s party to actually be a two-sided one. Of course, Y/N waited too long to make any concrete plans with Rafe and he moved on. She missed her chance. Her eyes glass over, running back to the now-closing elevator. The door closes and she lets her tears fall down her face.

The appearance of Raquelle at his front door is one he knew was coming but really didn’t want. Yesterday, he had gotten a text saying she found his watch at the party. He told her she could bring it over today. He has enough money to buy a new one, but this one is sentimental. His dad gave it to him when he graduated high school from his mother. Before she died, she had bought gifts for all her children to be given to them at their graduation. It was his most prized possession after his daughter and Y/N, of course. Not that they were possessions, he just lacked a better way of thinking about it.

“I’m so glad that I found it. This looks important,” she comments, holding it up to him. He takes it out of her hand, “Thank you. It is important. It is a present from my mom before she died.” “That’s really sweet. So… since I’m here, do you want to go out for dinner? On a date,” she questions. She steps closer to him and puts her hand on his chest. He gently removes her hand, “No, I’m sorry. But I’m committed to Y/N. She’s the only one for me.” Raquelle steps back as soon as he says those words. “I didn’t know. I am so sorry I’ve been bothering you so much. I thought you guys weren’t together,” she explains with an apologetic smile. 

“It’s okay. And we aren’t dating officially yet. We have a date that still needs to be planned, but I know she is who I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“That’s really sweet. I hope you guys find the time for your date. And if you need a babysitter, I know Will would love to have Stella over, even with their breakup. Do you think we could still be friends?”

“I would love to be your friend.” 

——

Y/N may have allowed Rafe to see Stella early; however, it doesn’t mean she let him be alone with their daughter yet. He’s regained most of her trust; it’s just this part that she is holding back on. He understands why she fears something like that could happen again and he respects her decision. He still comes every day after work to the diner to spend time with the two girls and make sure they get home alright. He walks into the diner to find Stella gone. He totally forgot she was staying at Wheezie’s tonight. It doesn’t mean he can’t hang out with Y/N though. They can finally talk about when they could go on a date. “Hey, Buttercup. I think we should talk about our date,” he tells her, sitting on the stool. Y/N freezes at his words, “Actually, Rafe. I wanted to talk to you about it too.” Rafe knows what her tone of voice means. Bad news for him, especially since she used his name in a none sexual setting.

“I’m not going to like this news am I?”

“Rafe, I’ve been thinking and I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I really shouldn’t have suggested it in the first place. I mean we’ve been too busy to go on our date so far and I don’t see that changing any time soon. You should be focusing on your sobriety.” 

“Yeah, but I could do both. I know I can.”

“What if you can’t though? You might be putting too much on your plate and it might cause another relapse. The last thing I want to do is put more pressure on our relationship and you.”

“Right, right. No, I understand. You are right. We make a great co-parenting team and it would be strange to change that. I just remembered I have to finish some work, so I’m going to go.”

Rafe tries to hide his upset, so he hides his face from her and heads directly toward the door. Why does this keep happening to him? He is always so close to getting everything he dreams of until something pulls it away from him. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya @optimisticsandwichgladiator @justdamnpeachy @theoraekenslover

[trashmouth-richie]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱: 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: eddie stays until clove’s shift is over at the club despite her best efforts to get him to leave. jolene expresses her concerns, an old acquaintance reintroduces himself with eddie. a piece of the past is revealed.

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ stripping, drug use/abuse, alcoholism, addiction, abusive relationships, prostitution.

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ no minors, depictions of poverty, child neglect/ endangerment, drug use/abuse, alcohol use/abuse, endangerment, 18+ sex working, 18+stripping, violence, smut.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 6.8k and a rewrite 🫣; we are finally getting somewhere in this story and i am sorry it took so long to pass these awkward tense filled chapters! 😓 im really happy with the way this chapter turned out and i hope you enjoy it too.

A smile twists on your lips, and you can’t hide the funny tingling shift of your eyebrows as you test the numbness in your face. You felt as if the world was spinning with colors of orangey yellows and blushing pink.

“Slick…come. on.”

The sky moved above you in gentle waves, pulsing and vibrating. The tangle of tall grass around you felt like shaved butter beneath the pads of your fingers. A giggle bursts from your lips and you stretch your arms out, feeling the creamy splats of the chickweed on your elbows. You imagined that you were a piece of toast, becoming soft by a pat of butter and a smear of jelly.

Would you be flavored as Grape? Choke Cherry? Definitely Mulberry, you’d decided after moving your tongue against the dry membrane of your cheeks… willing for a drop of saliva to coat it, tasting the jam on it with every swirl.

“You’ve got to be shitting me!”

You look up, a drunken haze on your stoned eyes. Lids felt heavier with every blink upward towards the tendrils of caramel swaying above. A concerned look is painted on Eddie’s face and you couldn’t for the life of you understand why.

Sweat formed beneath his bangs, his temples dripping wet. He wanted to shout and scream as your finger reached up to poke him on the nose, a raspberried boop bubbles from your lips and a fit of laughter follows.

He was pissed when he finally found you at the party. Even more upset that the sweet freshman, Barbara, had distracted him by asking about the Chemistry test, trying to compare answers to see if she had gotten the questions right.

In that amount of time you had disappeared in the crowd of sweaty bodies, nowhere to be seen. He settled into an immediate panic. Crippling anxiety crawling up his spine.

This party was a bad idea, he should have never taken you here, but your puppy dog eyes never failed to make him cave. You were always good at that.

The rickety farmhouse now used for high school kids to drink beer and smoke weed was abandoned long ago. Paint had chipped from the wooden slat siding, the wallpaper was ripped to shreds in every room, graffitied over. Rumor had it, the class of ‘79 threw orgies in the basement.

He searched every face around the flames of the bonfire for you, called your name into the lonesome woods— but you were nowhere, and when he asked people if they had seen you, nobody knew who you were. He was scared, terrified— after what happened the last time you went missing at a party— he swore it wouldn’t happen again. His eye was still discolored from that fight.

An hour had ticked by then an hour and a half, and he felt full fledged crazy when he started searching in parked cars.

The sweet smell of weed hit him as he walked past a pickup he hadn’t recognized. The tailgate was laid down with a blanket laying across it in a rumpled mess. And he almost missed it.

Almost turned to leave when he spotted a hand, laying limp from beneath the flannel threads— and his stomach fell at the sight of a homemade tattoo sketched in the same spot as his, opposite hands.

He planned on leaving. Not wanting to see the way your life had trainwrecked out of control and off the rails. But his heart ached for the girl he knew, the one he once left behind.

Eddie planted himself on that barstool like he was a permanent fixture. Keeping quietly to himself. Politely telling the bartender he was fine with the water and cold basket of wings that sat untouched.

His stomach was uneasy, sick with worry about the truth he spilled and your reaction to it all, acting as if it had never happened—turning something serious into a party. Maybe that was easiest for you? Turning a blind eye to the truth.

Tonight, Eddie would stay for you, ensuring you got home safely. Something he should have done years ago but couldn’t.

▫️▪️▫️▪️

You were floating on a warm and buzzing kind of high, drunk on the cheap liquor and pills you consumed tossing them back like a child would candy.

Reckless was an understatement for the mask you wore tonight. The armor shield you bared to protect yourself from getting hurt was heavy, but you never let it slip from your shoulders.

Overly friendly, flirting with the regulars, the out of towners. Anyone with a swinging dick was game. The college guys who you would normally rather drop dead than spend any amount of time talking to— suddenly were the most interesting males you’d ever laid eyes on.

You laughed at their stupid jokes, pinched their cheeks and kissed their necks as you ground your hips into their laps. Their grabby hands roamed over your body freely and you never swatted them away.

You accepted singles in your g-string like a eucharist in a catholic church. Their warm breath on your neck and shoulders held whimpers and groans as you moved above their laps to the music, or ran your tongue along their ear.

Giving away bits of yourself you didn’t care about, a lazy smile on your lips as your eyes closed and your head swayed along with your hips to the sultry music that played for Wendy’s set.

They all wore the same face, their voices were different but their soulless expressions spoke to the tiny crumb you kept hidden away that you still carried around, singing to you like a prayer of hope.

The only thing you couldn’t do was look any of them straight in the eyes. It didn’t matter who they were, their eyes were always the same: doe like, a stain of muddy brown and surrounded with dark lashes. Eddie.

The conversation you had with him burned like a fiery wind in your chest, and you did the usual to extinguish the flames. But the sad bourbon eyes parked at the bar ignited it every time you caught them in a stare over a suit jacket shoulder, making you turn away with something stronger than guilt.

Tipping back shots of god knows what, you fell deeper and deeper into the pit of numbness, until you fully succumbed to it, shutting out everything around you, disassociating to another time.

Watching the swing of a chain bounce from left to right, your fingertips felt like lead as they dangled. Grass was on the ceiling being stamped down to the soil beneath large footsteps. A pair of black legs moved as you swung like a wind chime in a summer breeze. The skinny legged creature holding you was murmuring under its breath. It took you much too long to realize you were being carried and the thing holding you was Eddie.

Your face was level with his lower back, the black shirt he was wearing rode up enough to leave a sliver of navy checkered boxers hanging out. The pattern looked funny, like tic-tac-toe. The words forming on the tip of your tongues mind, tickling the muscle as you make up rhymes.

“linch-lactose, ditz-duck-toast, yic-yac- yo, pinch-punch post!”

Your fingers squeeze the band of his boxers and pull it way out, revealing the whitest ass you’d ever seen and you gasp in surprise as if your incoherent mind forgot what would be clothed beneath, letting the fabric snap back into place. Warranting an irritated yelp from Eddie that has you tipping upwards and upwards until you are falling downwards and downwards behind him.

Now you were wading on your back in a soft batter of cake, and Eddie swore under his breath.

“Up, get up.”

You shake your head at him, moving your fingers to try to make his frown tick up. “I’m having fun, you should try it sometime.”

He huffs in annoyance, “fun? You call running away from me at a party with some West Academy fuckheads fun?”

You blow a raspberry with your lips, tossing your body over to your front then your back again and again until you’ve rolled a few feet away from him further into the deep grass.

“Seriously?” Eddie groans in frustration following you crossing his arms once he faded into your peripherals, “quit acting like a little kid!”

Eddie never got mad at you. At his dad, the way you grew up, school… but not you.

You frown back at him, eyebrows curling inward, “what’s up your ass Munson?”

His eyes cloud with something you can’t recognize, not in your current state of mind at least.

“Nothing, let’s—can we go? I’m fucking exhausted, and you’re pissing me off.”

“Oh…” you sing, leaning up on your elbows, scowling, “I get it now, you can get high with Byers’ whenever you feel like it, but when I do it without you— it’s suddenly a problem.”

He doesn’t say a word, only sighing deep and running his hands through his hair til they snag on his neck, bangs shoved aside.

“You’re a real bastard y'know? A hypocritical, fuckass!”

“Me?!” he shouts, flabbergasted, “It’s been what? Three weeks since I punched Hagan until his mouth bled for what he tried to do to you… and now you’re just going around putting yourself in the same situation Clove! It’s stupid, you are being stupid! You’re just asking for something bad to happen, like you’re looking for it!”

It wasn’t easy to forget that night, the tears that slid down your face, the taste of blood and gravel in your mouth, or the rip in your clothes from being pushed down.

You spent nights lying awake, wondering what could have happened if Eddie wouldn’t have shown up when he did. White knuckling your blankets, you stayed that way until the sun shone through the ripped tinfoil on your window. The only reprieve you could find was altering your mind for an hour or two.

Looking for that tiny bit of relief, you jumped when the opportunity to let loose came up, hungry for the numbness to settle, for your mind to ease.

After all— you were just having fun. What’s the worst that could happen?

Lights flashed in every neon color imaginable as the night drug on. He was torturing himself watching you become clumsier, spilling drinks, and nearly tripping over your own two feet.

The clink of the beads from the back room made his stomach turn as they moved like clockwork, girls went in every thirty minutes and out almost at the exact second it was up.

Shots of a bubbly pink liquid floated around in your hands as you brought them to a table of younger guys. Squealing as one of them pulled you into their lap, shoving his face into your chest as you giggled and swatted at him playfully.

Eddie wanted to puke. Wanted to throw his knuckles into that guy's stomach until he gasped for air. As much as he wanted to give in to his urges and bust the teeth out from that guy's mouth, he didn’t. Not wanting to embarrass you by being overly protective. He didn’t have that right anymore.

So he sat back and simply watched with a sinking heart, swirling the bottle of a now warm beer in his hand. Waiting.

Waiting for what— he wasn’t quite sure. Maybe you would sober up and he could take you to get some food at an all night diner? The two of you could laugh about old times, and you’d get to know one another again, in better circumstances.

He held onto that thought as his knee bounced watching you go from lap to lap at that table of college boys, a smile pressed to your lips that didn’t meet your eyes. Your pupils were so large he could see them from where he sat, inky blacks taking over where your natural color pooled.

“Hey there handsome, gin and tonic?”

Eddie swirled to face the bar at the bartender’s voice, thinking she was speaking to him. Her eyes didn’t fall to him, they were focused on a guy leaning his elbow across the counter, a gaudy red jacket flanking his shoulders.

Slitting his own eyes into narrow strips, he recognized him immediately. Still too many freckles pocking across his face. Hair cut short on the sides, slicked back with stiff gel. A cocky smirk on his face as he eyed Eddie, puffing out his chest like an alpha male. Tommy Hagan.

The heels of your palms press into your eyes, creating shapes behind your eyelids as the tears slid out rolling down the apples of your cheeks, your head laying softly against the ground.

Eddie nearly broke when your chin quivered, your lips shaking as your lungs raked in a choked breath. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings, never wanted to be someone who made you cry.

He kneeled down next to you, reaching for your wrists to peel your hands from your eyes. You finally let him, but kept your eyes shut tight.

“C’mere,” he whispered, wrapping his arms under yours and hauling you up with him to stand.

Your tears wet his hands from where he held your face, wiping them as they fell. “Don’t shut me out,” he pleaded, worry spreading across his face, “you can tell me anything.”

Shaking your head you tried to pull yourself away from him. “It won’t go away, Eddie,” you sobbed.

You could hear his tantalizing words in your ear just like that night. Still feel his hands under your shirt, and when you pushed him away, running from him, Tommy had caught up to your drunken strides and shoved you onto the gravel, pinning you there.

“I’m tired of crying, I’m tired of being stared at… I wanted one damn night of not remembering, of feeling normal again!”

His arms squeeze around you like a vice, and you cry into the column of his throat, your tears coating the split ends of his hair.

Eddie murmurs your name as he runs his fingers down your back in a soothing pattern. Letting you cry it out. His heart shattering right along with yours.

He didn’t let go of you until your tears fell a little more silently, your sniffles scarce.

“I have a surprise for you.”

His dark eyes were wild. Wide in psychotic amusement at the scene in front of him. “Physics proves me wrong again,” Tommy sneered, “they really can stack shit six foot high.”

Eddie shifts away from him, searching the bar for you. But Tommy doesn’t let up.

Waltzing towards Eddie, Tommy’s stocky build and red jacket made him look like something from a cereal box. “Ah, man, cmon,” he chides, leaning an elbow beside Eddie’s arm, “‘m only playin’ round.”

“What do you want, Hagan?”

“Now Eddie… is that anyway to treat an old friend?”

He was trying to bait Eddie, get him to swing on him maybe, finish the fight that started years ago. But Eddie wouldn’t budge, ignoring him completely.

Tommy runs his tongue along his teeth, “I have to wonder just how Rick would react to finding out that The runaway Munson bastard was sitting in his club, staring at his girl.”

Eddie almost choked on the breath he took, but he managed to keep his face calm even though he was breaking apart on the inside.

“She didn’t tell you?” Tommy feigns surprise, “She’s been his whore since your old man started selling dope. Don’t worry though—Rick is pretty generous, he’ll let you fuck her in the private rooms for the right price.”

Eddie swallows thickly, holding back vomit.

Tommy leans in close, his cheap cologne stinging Eddie’s nose, “pricey, but trust me…that pussy is worth it.”

Eddie’s fingers curl into tight fists.

“Oh and before I forget, Rick will be happy to know you’re back in town. Your old man still had some business to take care of before he vanished like a fart in the windp, and Rick is looking to collect.”

He watched Tommy leave. Striding up to one of the girls and squeezing her ass before laying a sloppy kiss on her lips.

Dread filled his soul like a sandbag, weighing him down until he could barely move, hardly digesting what Tommy had said before Rocket Queen started blaring from the speakers.

The crowd whooped and hollered for the girl on the pole, catcalls and wolf whistles, meaty hands slapping the stage with singles.

The table you were sitting at now sat empty, and you weren’t anywhere around, the bartender screamed your name and he knew before he even looked that you were the one on stage.

“The treehouse?”

“The treehouse.”

What felt like a ten mile walk in your inebriation was barely even one as you followed behind Eddie. Your finger laced into one of his belt loops guiding you along with your eyes half open.

“When you mentioned having a sleepover, Slim— I thought it would be in one of our rooms, with blankets, a pillow maybe.”

It was a goldmine when you stumbled across it all those years ago. Deep in the woods behind Forest Hills, you couldn’t believe it was still standing.

He smiled and brushed hair from his neck, “ What’s wrong? Clovie wovie a wittle afraid of a dirt and some bird shit?”

You shove his shoulder and make a disgusted face, “mostly afraid of getting Hepatitis.”

“Relax,” he said, putting a foot on the first wooden rung, nailed to the tree trunk, “I was here last week and cleaned it out.”

He climbs the makeshift ladder with ease, all fluid motion like an ape at the zoo.

“There’s no way in hell I’m gonna be able to do this.”

Eddie gets to the stop and pokes his head down, “it’s not that high up.”

“Yeah but I am.”

Eddie rolls his dark eight ball eyes and lays on his stomach across the floor of the treehouse, partly dangling over the edge to reach for your hands. “Put your foot there, no— that one.”

It took longer than it should have but with great effort from Eddie and as much concentration as you could manage, you’d finally made it to the top, laying flat on your back huffing like you’d ran a marathon.

“Well, that was easy.”

Eddie glares at you with a sweaty brow, “yeah, you really aced it Slick.”

You raise a middle finger and he sends one back making you both laugh. “I’m gonna hire you to clean my house, it’s pretty nice up here.”

The floor was swept and a round rag rug laid in the center. A tarp covered the ceiling where rain always snuck through the roof.

“Yeah, yeah, figured this place shouldn’t go to waste just because we don’t use it anymore. Maybe Lolly could play up here with her friends.”

Eddie bends down to lift the lid to a large wooden box you don’t remember being there before. He hauls out a large sleeping bag, a folded quilt, and a flashlight.

Placing the flashlight under his chin to illuminate his face in creepy shadows, Eddie throws his voice into a creepy cackle, “know any good ghost stories?”

The room spun as you hung upside down from your ankles crossed against the pole. It was a blur, a blackening clouded storm piercing your barely conscious mind. Years of dancing on this stage, you could practically do it in your sleep.

When you seductively lowered your bra straps and revealed yourself, the men went crazy. Everybody loved the devil, and right now you could use a better disguise to mask the pain from Eddie’s spilled truths earlier.

Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

The more you tried to suffocate his name in your mind, soul, body, he remained. Always.

You hadn’t spoken to him since earlier when the bar was empty except for the two of you and seven year old secrets. His eyes burned into your skin whenever you saw him, and you wondered how far you’d have to go before he decided to leave again for good.

The answer you asked for left you feeling like you swallowed a Buick. It tasted wrong on your tongue like burnt iron, and it was too much to chew.

Throwing yourself on men’s laps like the true whore you’d grown into, you felt his stare on you all night, and no matter what you were doing, how loud you laughed or danced for dollars—Eddie stayed.

It should have charmed you, should have given you a little joy to know that despite your job, despite everything you’d been through with and without him, he wanted to be here. But those days had come and gone, and now the only thing you felt was burning rage.

Back in high school he would get so hurt when you’d show back up at the party having already smoked with someone else. You never forgot the way his eyes looked as you laid in the grass. Disappointment. The thing you couldn’t recognize in them at that time.

And disappointment was what you needed to find in his eyes tonight. But as you looked towards the bar where you knew he was sitting, the dark coal of his eyes weren’t looking at you at all. His head was lowered, picking at his nails.

The song played on, and the finale was coming up where you laid across the floor amongst the filthy cash and pretended like the moans from the woman in the song were your own, and that every guy in the bar was making you feel the ecstasy of an orgasm.

You wanted Eddie to be so uncomfortable he wouldn’t want to come back. He needed to hurt the way you had. He could have come back, Eddie knew you’d never leave Hawkins, and he— fuck, he promised that you’d both get out of here.

Maybe it was the drugs and the alcohol that were making you so irrational, but it never crossed your mind, and Eddie’s eyes never lifted to meet yours.

One hand was laid across his chest, your head resting on his right bicep, a bent leg between his. You’d been asleep for a half hour according to his watch, and it’d been twelve minutes of you curled into him the way you were.

Neither of you had any good ghost stories, your real life being scary enough there wasn’t anything to fantasize about being more terrifying than that.

The two of you talked for a long time, whispering stories back and forth, laughing about the shade of Higgin’s face when you had both egged his house on Halloween last year.

Quiet fell over you both and you tucked the blanket under your chin, a small yawn escaping your lips.

“Eddie? You awake?” you whisper.

His chest expands beside you, “yeah, are you?”

“Yeah.. I wanted to tell you—”

The high was gone and you laid stone sober. You needed to thank him for helping you, for never giving up on you when you were beginning to give up on yourself, but it fell flat, carried away on the cool breeze blowing through the treehouse.

“… your butt is really really white.”

Laughter fills the space between, and you and Eddie giggle until tears squeeze from your eyes.

“You’re such a pain in my ass, y’know that?”

Moonlight shines through the open doorway illuminating the smile on his face, it was then that you began to see him differently as if he suddenly became more to you than anyone ever had. But maybe he always was.

Crossing a line you never had before, you lean forward pressing into him your body over his. Your heart raced but not any faster than his was. He was so handsome like this, and right here in this moment you felt as if it was second nature. As if looking at Eddie this way wasn’t new or different.

“You’re my best friend,” you said to him, stroking his cheek, “always and forever.”

You lean forward just enough for your lips to brush against his. The most delicate of kisses like a butterfly wing flapping in the wind.

Before he can say anything or react, you lay your head on the crux of his shoulder, and close your eyes.

When he was certain you were asleep, Eddie’s throat finally untangled and he whispered into your hair before kissing your forehead, “til the end of the world, baby.”

He couldn’t look. Out of respect for you and for your dignity, Eddie wouldn’t watch your set. It made him feel wrong, dirty, as if he were just another sleazy guy hoping to get into your pants.

Last call was hollered out and Eddie finally raised his eyes to see the stage now empty, only catching the shine of your heels walking to the dressing room.

The bar was emptying out, the bartenders had stopped serving. Overhead lights hissed as they illuminated around the bar, much like the club go-ers showing the true coyote ugly before a night of regret could begin.

The black haired bartender smiled big and set a glass of water in front of Eddie. “You okay to drive, sugar?”

Eddie smiles small, sliding his hands down his face, “Yeah, I’m just waiting for a friend, figured she needed a ride home.”

There weren't any other customers left in the club, and the bartender raised an eyebrow, “one of the girls?”

Eddie nods tiredly, taking a sip of his water.

“Yeah, I didn’t tell her that I was waiting, but.. don’t think she’s sober enough to drive.”

Jolene knew the other girls had already left, having had Kenny walk them all out to their vehicles, all but one.

“Clove?” she seemed a little startled, “you’re waiting for her?”

He rubs his hands together, “Yeah.” Her eyes narrow and she leans across the bar, waiting for an explanation on who he is. “I’m Eddie Munson. Slick— Clove, I mean, and I grew up together in Forest Hills.”

“Munson?” her eyebrows nearly cross, “Wayne? Or Al?”

“Al, un…fortunately,” he admitted, twisting his rings around his fingers, “back home for Wayne’s funeral.”

Lightbulbs clicked and Jolene spread a wide smile, “I remember you, Patty my aunt, babysat for Clove’s sister sometimes.”

“No shit? Swear this world gets smaller and smaller.”

Jolene sighs a bit of relief after connecting the dots on just who was waiting for you, a mother hen to her little chicks. “You and her kinda took care of each other back then, right? Looked after one another?”

He shrugged, not really comfortable talking about those times with a complete stranger, “kinda, I mean we really weren’t given a choice.”

Sighing deeply and looking worn out, Jolene shakes her head, “she needs a little of that right now, a lot of it actually.”

Eddie’s eyebrows raise, “choices? Or someone to take care of her?”

Before she can answer him, the dressing room door flies open with a clunk against the wall, likely to leave a hole where the doorknob hit the already crumbling drywall.

The fine powder around your nose was still dusted in a spot you had missed, and your slippers were back on your feet.

Looking from Jolene to Eddie and back again you scoff in annoyance, “what are you still doing here?”

Eddie looks a bit taken back but doesn’t let your hurtful words slice through him the way you had hoped they would.

“Gonna bring you home, make sure you get there, alive.”

Rolling your eyes, you bite a curt goodnight to Jolene and brush past Eddie, hitting him with your purse on the way out as you shuffle for your keys.

Jolene’s face is full of worry and she looks to Eddie with pity in her eyes, “she needs both.” Taking his glass she nods towards the door as you’re part way through it, “she’s been lost ever since she walked into this club…but lately, it’s gotten out of control.”

If his heart could plummet any further it would, but Eddie simply looked to Jolene and gave her a nod of understanding before he stood and jogged to follow you out of the doors.

▫️▪️▫️▪️

Gravel crunched beneath your slippers as you stumbled your way out to your car. The depths of your purse finally revealed the keys they’d been hiding and you pulled them out in a hissy fit, ignoring the calls of your name from the last person you wanted to see right now.

“—wait! Shit why are you walking so fast?” Eddie said pretending to be out of breath.

You nearly fell into the back end of your car as you shot him a glare refusing to answer him. Holding onto the sedan to make your way to the driver’s door, keys out.

“What are you—?” He realizes you’re trying to unlock the door so you could drive yourself home. His sober body being more agile than yours— he quickly finagles them from your fingers and puts them in his back pocket.

“Give them back!”

“No,” he says firmly, “you’re drunk, you’re not gonna kill yourself getting behind that wheel.”

“What are you the cops? A fucking pastor out east.. or west.. or wherever the hell you live at now? I’ve done it a thousand ti—” you groan in frustration when he backs away out of reach.

You reach for him again and again, holding onto his shirt and trying to yank him towards you. Eddie gets free and slams against the driver's door.

“Stop! I’m not letting you drive.”

All fight in you is lost. Instead you flip a switch and turn on the charm, batting your eyelashes like you would at any Sam, Dick or Harry at the club to get a good tip. Swinging your hips, pressing your body against his, your voice lilts into seduction.

“This what you want?” you ask sweetly, a sinister look in your eyes, “why you came home, right?”

Eddie’s lungs weren’t functioning, his mind blank, completely and utterly speechless at the way you were acting. He was repulsed, disgusted with how this night had turned out.

You walk your fingers against his chest, placing a manicured hand under his chin. His skin crawled, feeling the failure, the let down you had experienced seep out of you, because of him.

He was pissed, fuming with rage at the idea that you would think that this is what he wanted? To sexualize his own friend, you!?

You had been used to using your body to your advantage to get what you needed to survive. It had become almost thoughtless as you me body took over.

The alcohol, drugs, the provocative behavior, it was all a tangled web of coping. Of growing to be a product of your environment. Wearing a suit of spades from the same hand you were dealt.

He felt as if he was no better than those pigs in the bar who grabbed ass for freebies. Regret looming over him with each and every second that ticked by.

When your hands started to go south, Eddie’s brain zapped and he grabbed your wrists, halting you from touching him any further than you already had.

He searched into your eyes for a shred, an inkling of the girl he used to know. But came up with nothing but sadness and a glossy high.

“That’s enough.” His voice was firm, startling you into a gasp at his refusal to fall for whatever the hell you were trying to do, “get in the car, Clove… I’m taking you home.”

Rejection stung, but this was worse than that. Throwing yourself at Eddie, trying to make him so uncomfortable that he would leave the bar only for you to try to seduce him so you could drive your own car?

Pathetic. Self sabotage wins again.

Your face falls before you could whip up a response, or continue to argue with him. You didn’t see the way his eyes were wet or the way he was falling apart. Yanking your wrists from his light grasp, you march to the passenger side of the car, mountains of regret pressed heavy into your shoulders, but your face was painted in a false unbothered state.

His back is still turned away as your foot taps impatiently. A loud annoyed sigh from you finally renders Eddie free from the crestfallen place he’d seeped into.

He unlocks the door and gets in, adjusting your seat to accommodate for his longer legs, reaching across the center to pull the lock for you.

▫️▪️▫️▪️

Coming out of the shower you were surprised to see Eddie standing in your kitchen.

“I’m a grown woman… I don’t need you to coddle me.”

His flannel hung on the back of a chair and he wore a plain white shirt underneath, thin enough where you could barely make out more black swells of ink spread across his back.

He had insisted on walking you to your apartment despite you rolling your eyes so hard they could have fallen from your head.

“Heard you throwing up,” he said over his shoulder, flipping something in a pan, and moving to the fridge, bending low to retrieve something from the bottom shelf, “I’ve been with you almost all day and haven’t seen you eat a single thing—so get dressed and sit down while I make us some food, yeah?”

“Eddie,” you groan with thrown around explicits, stomping back to your room. You had thrown up while in the shower, entirely liquid your stomach purged itself until you were gasping for breath.

You grumbled as you fought your way into an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. Foregoing the trouble of drying off properly, you throw open your door and smell the sweet scent of cinnamon.

“Y’know you don't have anything in your cupboards, right?” Eddie called from the kitchen.

Your head and your heart were fighting each other on how you felt about him here in your apartment. And you threw all rational thoughts out the window as you geared up with vinegar in your veins, ready to argue with him.

Rolling your eyes again you say, “didn’t know I would be hosting Julia Child.” The counters are filled with mixing bowls, the scarce amount of milk you had left and a carton of eggs. “I rarely eat here, besides… nobody asked you to do this. I’m fine, I can make my own food… and you can leave.”

He stops whisking the eggs and shakes his head before continuing, holding the bowl and turning to face you.

“My skin has grown pretty thick over the last few years, so if you think you can insult me enough to hurt my feelings, save your breath.”

Hands on your hips you stare up at him, “maybe your thick skin can tell your thick fuckin’ head that I don’t need you around.”

“Do you push everyone away, or is this a special thing you’ve saved just for me?” Eddie asks earnestly.

You stalk towards him, arms crossed, “well I’ve had seven years to come up with what I needed to say, so don’t flatter yourself.”

“By all means, lay it on me,” he retorts, spreading his arms wide, “I deserve it—but I told you why I had to leave,” he half pleads, “I didn’t have a choice.”

Rage pours from you thickly, and you can barely stand yourself as you scream at him.

“There’s always a choice! You’re only here now because you know you made the wrong one, and you can’t live with that!”

“I have one regret in my life— one… and you’re right, it was leaving Hawkins without you. I think about it every single day, but don’t think I never—” he pauses long and hard.

Would he ever tell you? Not like this, not right now.

“Don’t think what?” you poke, sticking a knife into his wound and adding salt until it festered, “c’mon Eddie don’t quit on me now.”

You were being awful, but it was the best shield you had.

“Really wanna go there? Wanna have this talk? Fine, we can do that,” he stood tall but his shoulders sagged and his voice was quiet, “but only when you’re sober. I’m not fucking talking to you about this while you’re drunk and high.”

“‘m not drunk,” you sulked.

Eddie turned back to the stove, placing the eggs in the hot pan and letting them sizzle before scraping them around with a spatula, “whatever you think, sit down… this is almost done.”

You slid into a chair at your table, “I’m not hungry.”

“Don’t care, you need to eat, and lucky for you,” he chides, turning off the burners, “I worked as a cook for about a week a few years ago, so I made due with what you had.”

You wait for him to say he was joking but he never does, “how did you manage that—learning the fine culinary skills from making grilled cheese and orange koolaid?”

He laughs and opens a cupboard looking for plates, “well, living on the streets, you find out real quick just how much you’re willing to lie to get a job.”

Eddie places two pancakes on each plate with a heap of scrambled eggs and a few slices of an apple.

For the first time since he’s been back you take in account just how scary it must’ve been for him when he left, and your heart sinks.

“How long did you do that?” you ask quietly, moving towards the coffee maker and placing a filter into it, adding the grounds.

“Work as a chef? Oh not long they figured out I didn’t know anything about cooking shortly after I burned the hard boiled eggs.”

“No, I mean… live on the streets.”

Eddie carries the plates to the small table, “a few months here and there… crashed on a lot of couches until I had enough money to rent a room from a guy I worked with… wasn’t too bad, the van was pretty roomy.”

Nodding, you watch as the coffee brews and begins to drip into the glass pot. He moves behind you and back to the fridge to get out a tub of butter.

The itch of him being in your apartment felt so beyond foreign but was starting to feel almost comforting. As if him being around was closing your own open wounds, and you were getting whiplash from listening to your mind and then your heart all in one night.

“I’m sorry you had to do that.”

He turns to see you looking at him with a sad look in your eyes, and it broke him to see you go from one extreme to another. Fighting mad like a cat in a bathtub one minute to crying the next. As angry as you had been at him, he understood because he experienced the same kind of light switch type of emotions.

Two kids who never learned how to properly handle feelings, now barely adults still navigating the waters of being an adult.

“Hey,” Eddie spoke softly, crossing over to you, he places large hands around your biceps, looking deep into your eyes, “I’m alright, Clove. I made it out just fine, okay? Someday you’ll see for yourself just how good life can be, I promise.”

Hanging your head you mumble, “there’s nothing good left for me, Eddie.”

His hand moves under your chin before he can even wonder if what he’s doing is alright, and a tear falls before he can wipe it from your cheek.

“Don’t say that.”

Your eyes lift to him as more tears leak out, “I’m stuck here…you don’t know the kind of shit I’m in.”

Eddie pulls you into him as you cry, rubbing your back as you sob into his chest. You didn’t know the last time that you’ve been hugged and you melt into his arms as you tuck yours further into him.

You needed Eddie home, as much as you hated how your lives ended up, this was exactly what you needed. Him. Here, with you.

“I’ll help you, Clove…” he whispers into your hair, “all you need to do is let me.”

For the first time in a long while you believed him. Putting hope or faith or whatever you could into that moment, into his words. Holding that little ball of light at the end of the tunnel close to your chest.

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[lilycolbertsstuff]

Ok let’s talk all things Bridgerton.

First things first, we’ve all binged it the day that it came out, right?

Second, Nicola Coughlan the woman that you are.

Now let’s move on to the serious stuff.

I have to say that so far I’m liking this season but there are some things that I really don’t understand, namely all the subplots. Some of them should’ve either been cut or they should’ve had less screen time. I understand for example the introduction of Francesca and John because of how their story plays out in the future but what about the Mondriches? Don’t get me wrong I like their characters and their chemistry but I really don’t get why they’re such a prominent part of this season, hopefully their presence will be justified in part 2 for it would be heartbreaking to see unnecessary hate towards them.

Another aspect I liked is Eloise and Cressida’s friendship. In the beginning I didn’t think it would be something genuine but turns out that El does actually come to care for Cressida, who is finally not just relegated to being the mean girl.

Kate and Anthony are a dream to watch on screen, their chemistry is out of this world and they most definitely deserve the long ass honeymoon for god knows how hard these two have worked for their families.

I found Francesca to be such an interesting character and her and John were cute but the side couple that I’m really curious about is Violet and lady Danbury’s brother.

The Featheringtons were a highlight of this season to me. They had no business being this funny. Every time a scene with them came on I was prepared to laugh.

Queen Charlotte and lady Danbury are such icons you can’t help but love them.

Last but not least, Benedict. My boy what have they done to you? It’s so painfully obvious that they didn’t know what to do with his character because give me a valid reason why his storyline this time around is him going to bed with a widow; I would’ve much rather liked to see him in those artists’ parties or whatever like he did in season one and maybe explore more of that aspect of his personality in preparation for his own season, which hopefully will be next.

Time to talk about the leads:

I wish we could’ve seen more of Colin’s identity crisis but I feel like whenever the script was lacking Luke did a great job compensating with his body language and facial expressions. Also can we all agree that he’s just so whipped for Pen after their first kiss?

As a fellow wallflower I really related to the scenes where Penelope felt frustrated with the ton and all the socialising. I can confirm that even when we get all dolled up and feel confident in our own skin for once it’s still so hard to put ourselves out there. We feel called by the wall and somehow we find it more fascinating to observe all the different dynamics going on around us rather than actively taking part in them, even if sometimes we want to.

The scenes where Pen threw herself on her bed and sighed? Yep, I felt that.

I honestly didn’t mind that Colin and Pen got together by the end of the first part of the season for we’ve been watching the build up to their relationship for three seasons now. These two have been friends for ages so it’s not like they had to go through all that getting to know each other phase. Furthermore, I’m pretty sure that part 2 will focus on the unfolding of the lady whistledown storyline and having Colin and Pen be together makes more sense because now he loves and wants to marry her leading to an even more crushing reveal.

The carriage scene?! I died and resurrected in the span of like 3 minutes, and that’s just their first intimate scene I don’t know what will happen to me with the ones to come.

These were my overall thoughts on Bridgerton season 3. I can’t wait till part 2 comes out but also I will be deep in exam season so it’ll be a wild ride, let’s hope everything turns out for the best.🐝🩵

[deathbxnny]

https://youtu.be/XY1KtMXfMJ0?si=O0FoYVb-5McFKiCn

Here’s for context/power thingy

May I please request headcannons for Jing Yuan, Yanqing, and Welt with an S/o who has an instant death ability like Takatou? They never direct it at their allies (the boys listed), but I can imagine no one wanting to fight someone who can insta kill anything.

I've actually never seen this anime before, so it was definitely an interesting and funny watch, lol. I also really love the ability the character has, so thank you for sharing, Anon, and I hope you'll like this!!<33

Content: Reader essentially insta kills a bunch of people with their mind, kinda unserious, established relationships, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

》WELT YANG

Welt often claimed that he had seen most of what life had to offer, mainly due to all he had been through. And for a while, he completely believed that... until he met you, that is. You weren't shy about showcasing your rather invincible ability, mainly as a safety precaution for him.

He felt concerned at first yet, but over time, he saw himself growing appreciative of it, despite how grimm it was. You got him and the rest of the crew out of many difficult situations with ease, even if it meant many casualties that he supposed he could turn a blind eye on for your sake.

He finds it understandable that you have barely enemies to speak of, too, to say the least. Whether the fools or the Stellaron hunters alike, no one bothered crossing you, and for that, he was grateful because it just meant less of a headache for him to deal with.

》YANQING

Yanqing finds your ability cool. Maybe a bit too cool for his own good. So much so that even the general eventually began to wonder if he understood the seriousness of your ability at all. Not that the boy seemed to care. Especially when he begs you to showcase it in battle. (You have to explain why it is not a good idea to use it in training, though, since he won't get it-)

With that said, he practically boasts about having you as an s/o to anyone who has ears. He finds you amazing, so much so that he'll get distracted during fights just to watch you casually blink and kill a bunch of enemies without even moving a muscle! If you weren't his lover, he'd perhaps nearly be jealous...

He also finds it a little funny that you have virtually no enemies or at least none that would attempt to fight you head on. It's not surprising, ofcourse, but that just makes his pride over you grow even more... maybe Jing Yuan was right in being slightly concerned.

》JING YUAN

He is amused by your ability, yet doesn't think much of it. It's not that he doesn't care, he just finds it rather adorable if anything, considering how powerful he himself is. And perhaps he didn't take it as seriously as he should have at first... until he actually first saw it in action, which made him also respect it more.

Jing Yuan enjoys fighting at your side, or rather let you "fight" for him, when he has too much on his plate already. He is thankful for your ability in situations like those, as it means he doesn't have to worry about grand threats sticking around for longer than they should.

The biggest thing he is grateful for regarding your ability ultimately would be that he didn't have to worry about your well-being all too much. Being the s/o of the general would usually get the normal person in extreme trouble... yet since no one is crazy enough to really cross you after your reputation spreads far and wide, that fear has been calmed, whilst the man can rest knowing you'll be fine even without him around.

I'm sorry if these were a little short!! I did my best with what I saw regarding the ability in the video. Also, I'm sorry for the long wait. Life sucks as usual, lol. Either way, thank you again for the request, and I hope you liked this!!<33

[bertoyana]

funniest thing to #Me about the use of charles' telepathy in charles' and erik's relationship in the prequels is how both of them suck SOOO bad at using it LMAOOOO

like, you'd think having a telepath in the dynamic would actually help things along with the communication, but they are both USELESS at making use of it

charles will use it to crossdress erik and tell angel how much he wants to fuck him and erik will use it to tell charles how much he wants to be controlled, but that's ALL they use it for. it's not even horny or funny anymore it's just SAD, man. they suck so bad at it

(the only time they ever make good use of it is when charles unburied one of erik's memories with his mother, and that's it)

erik just automatically assumes charles knows everything and that he knows WHY erik does the things he does (because charles is in his head, so he MUST know, right?) and charles automatically assumes erik understands the hidden meaning of every single thing he says (because erik is also in charles' thoughts, so he SHOULD know, right?)

(wrong. they are both stupid and they will keep going in circles for 30 years straight)

like. take their first interaction in xma as an example

(on the other hand, i don't even want to think about the "you are looking in the wrong place" line because it makes me want to k1ll myself in front of the writers)

they are in each other's heads right now, and yet they are not even LISTENING to each other, they are just going in circles because both of them are too wrapped up in erik's own grief to actively try to hear what the other is trying to say. and while you can tell charles is hurting for erik and wants to help him, he's probably not going about it the best way

also if you pay attention at the start of the scene, when erik feels charles in his mind he just... looks confused, curious maybe, as to why charles is there, but he doesn't get angry or defensive straight away. he just lost his family for the second time (simon kimberg i'm in your walls) so he's probably even welcoming the only familiar thing he still has left.

he doesn't get defensive UNTIL charles starts talking and just kind of... also starts putting his own foot into his mouth. bless his heart.

and the thing is, while they get interrupted by apocalypse... being there lmao, i don't think this would have pan out any different if it was just the two of them. as i said, they are not listening to each other. charles means well but he's not really listening to what erik is trying to tell him, and in response to this erik is rejecting any type of help charles wants to give him.

and we know apocalypse was using erik's grief (about magda and nina, about the camps) to manipulate him - *we* as an audience know that, but back in this scene, charles doesn't even NOTICE apocalypse. and this, plus the fact that as we've established, they SUCK at trying to listen to each other and communicate, just brings the entire thing to failure.

(also imagine being the most powerful telepath in the world and being too focused on your best friend to notice the god standing a few steps away from him... which could mean nothing)

(mind you. they are literally in each other's heads rn. they can hear what the other is thinking and feeling. AND YET)

and it's even funnier (no) how they are even WORSE without charles' telepathy. take as an example, both of their fights in the plane in dofp

from charles' point of view, erik was the one that left him. erik literally and physically LEFT him in cuba, took the only teleporter there was and left charles to bleed out (lmao). meanwhile, from erik's point of view, he might have left first physically, but he only did so after charles rejected him. so, from HIS point of view, charles was the one to pull away FIRST. when he told him they didn't want the same thing (rejecting erik's ideals and by thus rejecting erik himself as well)

(and charles also let erik to rot in prison for 10 years so he could be also referring to that lmao)

this also brings me to my other point. which is something that i do think is pretty much ignored by everyone, but to be fair, it's also ignored by the movie so,

and it's the fact that the movie establishes that erik has been isolated for 10 YEARS. again, we as the audience know that charles has been struggling for the past 11 years, we know he did all he could for the mutants and we know he's been struggling, and we also know he's been using the serum because he couldn't stand the voices.

mind you, erik doesn't know any of this. not only because he's been in prison for 10 years (and i doubt they let him keep up with the news) but also because charles doesn't tell him any of this (fair)

and the last thing erik said to charles before they parted ways in cuba was that they wanted the same thing, which charles denied.

so from erik's point of view, all that he knows is that charles promised him all those years ago that he wasn't alone, and then he rejected erik in cuba, sent him away, and then proceeded to give up on erik and on their cause by doing nothing when the mutants were being tortured and experimented on. and he started using the serum and living with hank like a normal human being, sacrificing his powers and 'betraying' their cause.

ofc none of this is what actually happened, and *we* know that. but erik doesn't. and for some reason??? that i find extremely hilarious??? no one ever BOTHERS to correct erik's assumption, lmao. also none of this ever comes up again in the movies which to me just means erik went on believing that charles just briefly gave up on their cause for 10 years LMAOOO

okay, moving on bc i still have things to yap about

the other plane scenes comes in. erik shows up with the chessboard, they actually DO talk a bit and erik tells him he didn't mean to kill jfk (can't believe i wrote that down these movies were insane) and then they settle to play chess. AAAND this scene comes in

and he apologizes for SHOOTING charles, because he never meant to hurt him, and he does regret that. but he's not apologizing for leaving, because, once again, from his point of view, charles left HIM

and then charles hits him with the most pathetic saddest wettest expectant look in existence (james mcavoy you are insane) because he thinks erik is going to apologize for leaving

and then erik hits him with this LMAOOO

and charles realizes erik is apologizing for shooting him (something i'm pretty sure charles didn't exactly blame him for? his biggest accusation was that erik abandoned him)

and you can see charles literally and figuratively backtracking and shutting down immediately AGAIN.

(because, again, charles thinks erik left him, and erik should apologize for that, but from erik's pov? charles rejected him, he pulled away FIRST so he wasn't the first to abandon the other. charles was)

(they both are wrong and right in a way. they also don't tell each other any of this)

then it's erik's turn to give charles the wettest and saddest look known in mankind, charles shuts down, refuses to even look at erik, he changes topics and erik lets him.

(they never talk about this again, btw)

(it probably blew up in their faces in genosha. i just know they make everyone's life miserable as hell in there . god bless)

anyways, i'm sure someone smarter than me could make a more interesting analysis of how you can tell they do genuinely care about each other, but their failing to communicate properly just brings them to their fall down over and over. especially because it's something that keeps blowing up in their faces all the time in the prequels. something something the failure of telepathy something.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA (30f) for losing my cool/snapping at my roommate and friend (30m, who I will call Kyle) because he was too loud playing games online with his friends?

For context, in case it's needed: this happened a couple months ago, but it's been on my mind. We are both autistic and thus got a late start in our adult lives, in several ways. We have been friends for 10 years and have lived together for roughly 7 of them, on and off (we adopted 2 cats together many years ago, its just easier like this so we dont have to separate them or force one of us to be away from the cats. we love them very much. kind of a coparenting situation lol). Kyle has a salaried tech job that's remote for 70% of the time, and I've recently become a full-time online college student after failing to "make it" without a degree.

We live in a tiny 2-bedroom house that Kyle's family owns. We're only charged for utilities, which is why neither of us are leaving anytime soon (contrary to what you might assume, Kyle does not make a lot of money), especially since it's giving me the opportunity to go to school full-time and not worry about rent. Kyle helps me a lot with groceries and other necessities and I do most of the chores.

So we are always basically on top of each other, and sometimes we get on each other's nerves. We try to be respectful of each others' space, but it's hard because there is not much space in the first place.

I had a really busy day studying and doing homework, which is basically every day for me, since I'm taking 6 classes, 4 of which are STEM classes. So I tend to fall asleep early if I'm not unintentionally pulling all-nighters. I was trying to sleep when this happened around 9pm.

He usually closes his door because he knows he can be very loud, but it doesn't help much. I ended up having to close my own door to try and drown out some of his yelling and laughing, which I understand is going to happen and I try not to hold it against him.

But then he opened his door and left it wide open, so I could hear everything, like he was in the same room. Something really funny must have happened because he started scream-laughing.

Despite this being a semi-regular weekly occurrence, I was really startled. I figured, it probably wasn't intentional and he'll try to quiet down and close his door. I tried to relax and as soon as I started to fall asleep, he did it again, except louder.

This time he didn't stop, he was full-on screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs. Kinda like those game streamers/youtubers where literally all they do is scream the whole time? Very similar. My cat, who was asleep under the blanket on top of me, got startled awake and scratched the shit out of my leg.

I think this all triggered a "fight" response because I was suddenly just so incredibly pissed at Kyle, which I tried to get under control, but he would not stop screaming and I literally could not hear myself think.

(I cannot wear earplugs or have anything in/covering my ears for huge sensory reasons.)

Then my cat wanted to leave the room to see what the commotion was, so I had to open the door, which gave me a direct line of sight to to Kyle at his computer.

I walked over to his doorway. Tried to knock and call his name, but he didnt notice with his noise cancelling headphones on. So I slammed my hand against his door to get his attention & yelled "Hey! Shut the fuck up, Kyle!"

He looked surprised to see me and laughed and kinds waved it off and said "sorry, it got a little intense" and he started to explain what they were doing.

I cut him off and said "I don't care. Shut the hell up." He said he could close his door again, and I said "No, you need to stop. Just stop! You're freaking the cats out too!" and I pointed to my leg with huge bloody scratch marks, shut his door, went back to my room, shut my own door. And of course after that I had adrenaline coursing through my body and I couldn't fall asleep anyway.

After that, I didnt hear a single sound from his room apart from an occasional quiet laugh. I started to feel guilty. I think I overreacted and ruined his fun. I know this is his way of blowing off steam halfway through the work week.

I also felt embarrassed because his friends probably heard me throwing a fit. We have lived with them before, and they're exactly that loud every single night. I have had to ask them to quiet down multiple times, and Kyle told me later on that gave them the impression that I'm. Well, "neurotic, controlling bitch" was heavily implied. Kyle is usually a lot more chill, but being around these guys influences him to act more like them.

But, I guess being loud while having fun isn't a crime, especially when it's not even 10pm yet. I feel like I proved his friends right, maybe.

The next morning I apologized, he apologized too, and everything seems to be good between us, but it's been a while and he's a lot quieter during game night now. He's such a reserved and stressed out person, he hardly ever laughs except when he's playing games, so I feel like I destroyed an important outlet.

I told another friend what happened and she said I didn't overreact at all and she would have flipped out way sooner if her husband did that. (Not sure it's comparable I mean we aren't married lol) And for the record, this friend and her husband were once part of a now-fractured friend group including Kyle and his game night friends, but grew apart, for a lot of reasons, but I think mainly because the Loud Gamer Friends never really grew up while everyone else matured and moved on to different phases in life.

Basically my friends current impression of Kyle is that he is a decent person but incredibly emotionally stunted and feels like he may unintentionally cope in ways that often hurt me without caring as much as she thinks he should. Which....feels partially accurate, I guess. But isn't that placing too much responsibility on him for my wellbeing? He does a lot for me, so it felt like an unfair thing to say.

My mom on the other hand, seems to fully think I am an asshole fun-ruiner. She thinks I should have tried harder to calm down. Maybe I should have approached him sooner - nicely.

And I agree. He probably would have tried his best to oblige even if he couldn't fully succeed. But that's the reason I didn't bother - in the past he has only been able to honor that kind of request for maybe 10-15 minutes, then forgets, and it's exhausting to keep reminding him.

Anyway... what does everyone here think?

[em-harlsnow]

short mini-fic 🫶

ian mainly gets tiktok because Debbie won’t shut up about it. She tells him it’s simultaneously terrible and really good, and starts posting videos of Franny to her private account. She whines that she doesn’t have enough followers, so okay, ian will bite the bullet.

he downloads it, only to see Franny. it’s pretty boring at first because the FYP hasn’t caught up to what he likes yet. eventually, though, he gets a bit more into it.

he starts following some gay or lesbian or straight (although there are fewer of those) couples on the app, watching some of their content because it’s funny. he follows people who know about gardening and people who aim to motivate you to run and eat healthy.

he’s been on it for around three weeks when he starts understanding trends. They don’t last very long, and some are kind of interesting. It’s almost like an inside joke but for the whole internet. one trend in particular, ian thinks is actually hilarious.

it’s a couple trend. it involves one person asking the other to leave while they get changed. maybe the beauty’s in the simplicity, because the reactions to it are wildly entertaining.

he just has to try it on Mickey.

he’s not gonna record, because he doesn’t really care for people knowing their private life.

Mickey’s sat on their bed on his phone when ian comes in, happily chuckling away to YouTube. ian walks over to the draws, grabbing his pyjamas so that he can change for bed.

“hey, can you leave while i get changed?” he asks Mickey, and the reaction is immediate.

“What?” eyebrows raised incredulously.

“Can you leave the room while i get changed?”

Mickey scoffs. “No.”

“Come on. I’ll be quick.” He tries to persuade.

“Then you can change here.”

“I just want privacy, i’ll literally be ten seconds.”

Mickey all out laughs at him, putting his phone down. “Privacy? fuck off with that bullshit. i’ve been up close and personal with both your cock and your ass, fuck privacy.” And then in a move ian doesn’t expect, mickey sits himself up and watches him.

“Mickeyyy, just please let me get changed. or at least turn around.” He pleads.

“No. I’m watching you get changed now.”

“Why?” Ian’s sort of running out of excuses as to why he wants to get changed away from Mickey, but he needs to continue.

“Because I like watching you get naked.”

Ian scoffs, then turns to go into the bathroom and change. Mickey grabs him by the back of his jeans and gently tugs him back to the bed.

“Is this an insecurity thing? coz you know you’re the hottest guy i’ve ever seen.” he says, blue eyes staring up at ian.

ian smirks. “thank you, and no, not an insecurity thing. i just don’t want to get changed while you’re watching me like a perv.”

Mickey smiles back. “i am your husband, we have been together ten years, i am perfectly fucking entitled to watch you like a perv. now get changed.” he grins, smacking ian’s ass to make a point.

“i feel like you didn’t do it right.”

Mickey’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Didn’t do what right?”

“It’s a tiktok trend where you tell your partner that you want them to leave so you can get changed. you made it sweet.” Ian argues lightly, finally getting changed.

“fuck off. i’m not sweet. and fuck off with your toktik bullshit.” Mickey replies, and watches Ian like a perv as he strips down and pulls on his pyjamas.

“sure mick, you’re definitely not sweet.” ian states sarcastically, and Mickey rolls his eyes.

[larsnicklas]

What is that people don't understand about Barky?

eh i think it's less that he's misunderstood as it's.... idk. that he flies very under the radar by choice and tends to be overshadowed by flashier personalities. on purpose. i guess if there's one thing i'd say — with the caveat that none of us know the guy personally! — i don't really think he's shy at all, which is how he was described a TON when he was younger. he speaks when he has something to say and has always had yappers in the leadership group to balance things out lmao. but he's so funny!!! and tbh the older he gets the more he lets his personality show on camera i think lol

i, a longtime nicke enthusiast, am used to basically all of this and even drawn to these traits, and therefore voraciously consume every longform sasha interview/piece that is available to me in order to kind of get a grasp on what makes the guy tick. here are a few of my favorites + a few highlight videos for fun!

SASHA MINI PRIMER ⬇️ aka an incomplete but lovingly curated collection of required reading/videos/essential moments below the cut!!!

📰 Sushi With Sasha: Barkov jests that all being captain really means is, “I have to open my mouth sometimes.” [...] The fact Barkov cracks wise about his quiet ways, though, is in line with a defining characteristic — knowing how to pick your spots, both with the puck and one-liners. “Yeah, that’s exactly it,” says Pittsburgh Penguins defenceman and fellow Finn Olli Maatta. “Definitely not the loudest guy in the room, but when you get to know him he has almost like a sneaky sense of humour.”

🎥 32 Thoughts: Barkov Reminisces About Panthers Magical Playoff Run (he is so cute in this. hair fluffy. smiley. sweet.)

📰 Q&A: Sasha Barkov is home in Finland and discusses his love of chicken wings, Jaromir Jagr and the Miami Heat: How fast does that car go? Well, 65 is the speed limit, right? So, 66. But I think it would hit 200 if you really pushed it.

🎥 Aleksander Barkov Shootout Goals But They Get Increasingly More Impressive (what it says on the tin)

📰 The NHL’s new Patrice Bergeron? Panthers’ Aleksander Barkov fits the bill — ‘He does everything right: Affable as always, Barkov, despite his short offseason, looked noticeably more jacked than he’d even been during the Panthers’ tremendous playoff run. He smiled and extended his hand before discussing his motivation to captain the Panthers back to the spot that had been so grueling to get to in the first place.

📰 Barkov Keeps His Cool: It’s right after one of those long days of work at the rink in November that Barkov, known better around the locker room as “Sasha,” has me on his car’s speakerphone as he works to traverse through a bit of traffic around rush hour. In the background, vehicles can be heard zooming and honking around him. But just like he does on the ice, the Panthers captain is keeping his cool. As he maneuvers through congestion with his foot tap dancing on the pedal, he doesn’t talk much about his extension, but rather of the first time he attempted to traverse the highways of South Florida as a fresh-faced, 18-year-old hockey prodigy during his rookie season in 2013.

🎙️/ 🎥 The Hockey PDOcast Episode: Aleksander Barkov's Defensive Impact and How He Does It (analysis of barkov as a player with accompanying video clips)

🎥 Panthers Celebrate Captain Aleksander Barkov (this video is so fucking funny to me because joe t.hornton just talks for ten seconds about how big sasha is. which. yeah real.)

📰 Dwyane Wade crashes into fan at Heat game -- Panthers star Aleksander Barkov: Barkov said he would like to see Wade at a Panthers game this season. The Panthers play at BB&T Center in Sunrise, which is 35 miles north of AmericanAirlines Arena, where the Heat play. Barkov predicted Wade would get a standing ovation from Panthers fans and said he wouldn't let boards stop him from trying to see Wade during that game. "I'll try my best to fly over him," Barkov said.

🎥 Ask Me Anything | Aleksander Barkov (this is where he says his dream golf quartet is his ex bf his current work wife and his dilf mentor)

📰 Q&A with Sasha Barkov: Fast cars, Miami sports and his first move as NHL commish: Yeah, the palm trees were cool and he really liked the ocean. But he also liked to drive. To do that, he needed to head to the DMV and get himself a Florida driver’s license. “I don’t have a car but I have the license,” Barkov said during his first training camp with the Panthers in 2013. “I failed the first time because I didn’t understand the questions.”

🎥 Laine and Barkov go to town on Finnish chicken wings (literally just a minute long video of them eating chicken wings LOL)

🎥 ALEKSANDER BARKOV VS. PAVEL BARBER | HockeyShot Shootout Challenge! (silly trickshot video... fans throw rats at sasha and he's like thank you :D... it's like an artificial sheet on the beach, sasha is very cute)

[scintillyyy]

the thing is when i say that red robin #1-12 managed to age better than any other reborn title and i'm not even joking is that i know how that sounds funny because 1) i know what out of context panels did to fandom understandings of tim and dick & tim and 2) i know there's a lot of flaws inherent from the time period it was written in in it that gets it a lot of flack.

however. however. ignoring those things, i'm not exaggerating when i say that red robin #1-12 is genuinely almost a marvel in comics storytelling from a *narrative standpoint* in that it truly showcases what the strength of comics as a long-form but at the same time ever changing media *could be*.

because red robin starts at a issue #1--it's a change to the status quo that means you need to quickly introduce the concepts, characters, relationships and their dynamics for new readers to catch up while telling a new story that doesn't actually require knowing the past 80 years of continuity. and despite what fandom says sometimes, red robin is actually fairly competent at that--it lays out a new narrative challenge, quickly reviews how we got to the current narrative challenge, showcases the protagonist overcoming that challenge, & lays a cleanslate groundwork for storytelling beyond it. someone could, in fact, go into it as a first comic & get the gist of things. it does all that fairly well, actually. (yes, even the dick & tim & the resolving of their conflict--the key is actually reading it)

but at the same time, it is an absolute reward if you *have* read the previous 20 years of tim's comics/tim from the start. yost clearly knew a lot about tim & his history--when he was tasked with creating a story arc for tim to transition from robin to red robin he *did his fucking homework*. yost drew from tim's past themes, arcs, relationships & relationship dynamics. he looked at how tim initially transitioned from boy who figured out who batman & robin are to becoming robin. it's not a coincidence that tim's transition from robin -> red robin when read in his relation to his transition from tim -> robin has a lot of similar themes and motifs while *still managing to be a new intepretation of them*. it's not a coincidence that tim in identity crisis i has self hatred from his mother's death that manifests in anger & ultimately tim deciding that he has to do something to save bruce, even if it means he doesn't deserve to be robin and he undergoes a similar arc in red robin with bruce's death. it's not a coincidence that yost was tasked to write an arc where tim comes into his own as a hero as he decides tim needs to travel the world (including paris), the way he's sent away to paris for further training before he can *really* feel like he deserves to be robin like he does in robin i. yost knows that tim sends himself away when he needs to find himself. it's not a coincidence that yost decides to use the league of assassins for a story that flirts with tim having to make compromises like tim dealt with in robin i with lady shiva & king snake. it's not coincidence that he calls back extensively to a lonely place of dying and resurrection of ra's al ghul and prodigal with dick and tim and trust and falling and everything. it's not a coincidence that he has tim blow up the league computers in a way that references tim doing something similar with league computers in legacy. it's not a coincidence you can find parallels to knightfall era dynamics in there. it's not a coincidence that tim almost giving up in the desert can be read in tandem to tim almost giving up on his life in contagion & legacy and fit together very interestingly.

also consider how yost adds in new characters of pru & tam as tim side characters as tim is a character meant to play off others and gives them personality & their own motivations outside of tim like his friends have always historically had along with harkening back to tim as a team up guy who will give anyone a chance. there is so much history yost wove into the very structure of the entire story arc in a way that shows absolute respect for eveything that came before while *still managing to do his own thing*. it is genuinely everything that people want comics to do--carry over important themes and story arcs while still being fresh & not too derivative or just re-telling the same story over and over again. it respects continuity and character history while progressing it. despite its flaws--and it does have them, don't get me wrong--if you look at it from a *comics storytelling* perspective, it manages to achieve what the ideal fusion of respecting the long-form history of comics while creating something that is also a viable, new jumping off point. red robin #1-12 has a lot of respect for *what comics can be capable of as a narrative storytelling medium* and the things you can achieve while respecting both a long, convoluted narrative history & that comics as a medium requires soft resets to make things easier for new fans to jump in to reduce the gatekeeping load.

so when i say red robin #1-12, aged best out of all the reborn comics *this is what i mean*. despite the surface flaws, narratively it achieved so much of what comics with a long history are inherently capable of as a medium. it is a story that is new, yet fits so well with everything that came before it. compare that to morrison's batman and robin, where morrison only cared about how characters could service their grand vision for a story in a way that shows no respect to the past 30 years of dick's storytelling & completely isolated him from the greater universe, because they wanted dick grayson the concept as batman, not dick grayson the character as batman. compare that to how bqm ignored bascially all past steph characterization to turn steph into a 2009 cw "awkward but hot new girl" type protagonist (seriously, she would not be out of place as the protagonist of hellcats. the dynamics of the new girl who just doesn't fit in with the sorority girls of her campus is also not out of place for a cw show like hellcats. the side characters as one dimensional strawmen is peak cw. i would argue red robin didn't treat female characters fantastic, but it did somehow manage to do better than batgirl on this alone lol). red robin #1-12 demonstrates a lot more longevity and solidity as a narrative piece within the greater universe because of all this. imo.

[kyokutsu-sama]

As a black clover fan, came FLOCKING to your account😭❤️ i got a req for you, take as much time as you’d like!

William, Nozel and Yuno jealousy headcanons? You could make a lil scenario if you like for each, but just how’d they act? I feel like all 3 of them would get extremely petty at one point😭 THANK YOU!!!

Hi!!! I'm grateful and I really hope you're enjoying my account❤️

It was really interesting to write for these three since they have such calm and closed personalities and it was funny to see them trying to deal with the situation😅

_____________________________

William :

William is definitely not a jealous man. He trusts you a lot and seeing you talking to other people doesn't make him uncomfortable. However, it may happen that this man has to fight against the bad thoughts in his mind when he sees you talking to another man for a long time, like when he came across you at a party where the captains and the members of their squads were together. He thought it was a little unnecessary of him to be a little jealous, but the truth is that it got to a point where his eyes started to fall on you more often than expected. Along with the feeling of jealousy, came the fear and insecurity that you might be more interested in someone else than him, due to the scar. Even after you were the first person who came close to him and kissed that mark, accepting it without fear or prejudice. He's not the type to make a scene when he's jealous, so he just came close to you when you were talking to the guy and hold your hand and stood there close to you, without saying anything. Even when he was just innocently marking his territory, you already knew him well enough to be able to read the look in his eyes and not be able to hide a little smile when you saw him jealous. You'll definitely tease him about this on the way home. "You seemed a little strange just now, is everything okay?" "Yes, why not?" He smiled, trying not to give too many signs "Nothing, I could have sworn you were jealous..." "Jealousy?" He choked a little, feeling a certain blush on his cheeks and you giggled, seeing him all embarrassed "You're cute when you're jealous, you know?" You poked his cheek and he smiled. "But you don't need to be. I love you." You kissed him and hugged him, making his heart ease and melt The captain apologized to you but you said that everything was fine and that he didn't have to apologize because he didn't do anything wrong. He was always so kind and cute. I want a William, where can I find one?🥺👉👈

Nozel :

Nozel, in turn, is more controlling of you even without saying a word. Like William, he won't say a word but his actions spoke loudly as did his look, he will make sure that his actions are visible enough and understood by both the individual and you. Like for example when you were talking to his rival, Fuegoleon, and he saw you in the background laughing with the other man and that made his icy eyes fall on you without straying for even a moment. Nozel approached the two of you and that was when Fuegoleon looked at him as he put an arm around you and returned a serious look to the other captain. You were a little surprised when he suddenly appeared, without understand what that attitude was initially about. Fuegoleon, in turn, immediately understood what was happening but just smiled at both of you, leaving the place. You looked at Nozel and saw him narrow his eyes at you a little and you couldn't help but question him. "You seemed a little uncomfortable just now, was it your rival's presence?" "I'm not uncomfortable around my rival but confident knowing that I'm above him." Nozel said, coldly as he walked and you smiled "Oh, I see...So what if he are too close to me, won't you be bothered?" Nozel turned to face you and you gave him a teasing smile, only to see him lose his royal posture "If he or another guy is near you, I'll deal with them... and then with you." Nozel whispered next to your ear and left That man's serious, low voice sent a shiver down your spine and made your knees weak. He was undoubtedly jealous and was letting it show more than he would have liked.

(Okay I'll have to write this scenario later✍️)

Yuno :

Of the three, this may be surprisingly the most obvious, even if he thinks he can't leave any evidence of it. Yuno is very reserved and very closed off. Exactly the opposite of his best friend and rival, Asta... But when faced with a situation like this, he may even be a little more talkative than usual. He always tries to keep you in his sight to protect you at all times. Yes, he has feelings even if he's not that good at expressing them in words. He was looking for you, at the headquarters, when he saw you talking and laughing with another member of Golden Dawn. It caused a "strange feeling" in him, especially when he saw that you seemed to be trying something. Even if it was nothing more than an idea in his head. He trusted you and wasn't insecure about it but, no, please stay away from her. "Is everything okay here?" Yuno asked, approaching the two of you "Yes, and you?" "Oh, nice to see you, Yuno!" The other member greeted Yuno just looking at him, with a cold gaze that followed him from top to bottom "Are you alright, Yuno?" You asked again, feeling a certain tension in the air. "Yes...Come with me, the captain needs to talk to us."He informed, without taking his eyes off the other man, who was already getting uncomfortable "Well... then I'll leave. See you later." He said goodbye to the two, a little nervous, following his path shortly after You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at Yuno, still trying to understand what had just happened. "What was that just now?" You asked " 'That' what?" He looked at you "That...You didn't take that cold look off the poor guy. What did he do to you?" "Nothing. Let's go." He turned around and you looked at him A light bulb went off over your head and you soon came to the answer. Yuno was jealous and you smiled. "Did it bother you to see me close to that man?" You asked and he stopped looking at you for a moment but only to turn around again and make his way Well, his silence was a response in itself and you just shook your head, following behind him.