#not having my drivers license doesn't help here

[tsuyu-season]

Watching YouTube channel Not Just Bikes as a Dutch person is really interesting

From my fellow Dutchies I mostly hear sooo much complaining about how everything is bad, and I too participate in this ancient Dutch ritual frequently. But then there is this guy, this channel, that is basically bike and The Netherlands (-style city planning) propaganda and I can't help but agree that it does seem like the best option.

[inkyray]

a/n: send more requests i love doing them for yall

3k words

warnings/content ahead: bsf!chris x virgin!reader, smut, oral fem!receiving (eating out yess), suggestive, p in v, fingering, pet names (princess), Fritos, missionary, and more come find out

BANG

Your roommate had just left to see her family for the next week, which meant you had the apartment all to yourself for a full 7 days. You were ecstatic, immediately letting Chris know.

-

brobrobro

guess what rn

You type excitedly, your fingers practically shoving a hole through your phone screen. The message immediately goes to seen, and you watch bubbles pop up, indicating he was typing.

You finally came to your senses and decided to move out of that disgracefully small apartment ?

dude no

you know i can't afford that shit

im staying here until i start making the bag i deserve !!!

Right

now guess

You cut all your hair off and went bald

Please tell me you went bald

Actually no

Please tell me you didnt go bald

nah not bald 💔

I GOT THE WHOLE APARTMENT TO MYSELF;!!!! FOR A WEEK!!

Holy fuck

The caps had me go BLIND trying to read

where's the happiness and the cheer

you better start typing back in caps.

YES! 😭 YOU HAVE THE ENTIRE PLACE TO YOURSELF!!

FOR HOW LONG? A WEEK I HEAR? IT'S ALMOST LIKE YOURE AN ADULT!

THAT MUST BE WHY I'M HEARING FOLK MUSIC AND TAP DANCING OUTSIDE! 

god bless ☝️ now come over so we could politely watch a movie

hmmmm Depends

what movie is it

Ya Momma! 😂😅

sounds amazing

I'll be there in a few

-

You close your phone, getting up to quickly clean the place around you.

Chris was no stranger to you, you two had known each other since the day he threw up on you in middle school. He had caught a bug and unfortunately he sat behind you. You didn't really understand how throw up could reach past a desk capacity but it had somehow made it into your hair. Disgusting, horrific week. But he made it up to you.

For him, he moved to LA for work reasons. He was famous, although he didn't like to admit it, nor did it really feel like it for him. You moved because of college, the moment you two graduated out of highschool, it was as if the universe worked hard to get you two closer. And, it worked. You guys were closer now than you were in school.

You would split the rent with your roommate, which was already an expensive bunch, considering this was LA. But Chris would constantly insist on helping you out financially, paying for most of your things when you would practically beg him not to. You had a hard time receiving stuff, but Chris had a problem with giving. You two balanced each other out in that aspect.

You hear a knock on the door, already knowing who it is. It doesn't take you long to reach it. "Why are you holding Fritos?" You ask, huffing a laugh at the weirdly large bag of chips in his hand as he enters your apartment and heads for your bedroom.

"'Cus I wanted Fritos." He answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world, flopping on your bed as you follow him to your room. You notice a few pairs of socks on the floor that you failed to pick up, doing so. "You know, I had to like, Uber here. You know how fucking crazy that is? Ubering to your place? Fucking embarassing." Chris complains, taking off his shoes and cuddling up in your bed.

"Why didn't you just ask Matt?" You wonder, folding your clothes. "Matt didn't want to. I need to get my drivers license, bro. Shit is getting ridiculous." He opens his bag of chips, and your head snaps up. "Chris." You warn as he looks you dead in the eye, a smirk playing on his lips as he slowly raises a chip to his mouth. 

"Chris, I swear to God if you drop a single crumb on my bed."

"I won't." He says, before dropping the chip back in the bag.

"I'm not hungry." He folds the chip bag and places it on your nightstand beside your bed. "You get what I mean though?" He asks, taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair. "Like, I cant ask Matt to fucking, I dont know, drive me to a hook-up or something." He huffs, exasperated from the imaginary scenario he created.

You sit beside him, nodding like you agree, grabbing the TV remote and opening up a streaming platform for movies on your TV. "Oh fuck, imagine I like, pull up to a bad bitches house in an Uber. That's so fucking wild." This time you laugh, "Ubering to get your shit sucked is crazy." You say, scrolling through the endless options of what to watch.

"You ever done that? Ubering to a sneaky links house or something?" Chris asks you, sitting up on your bed. You take a second to answer. "Well, I have my drivers license." You don't know why that would qualify as an answer, but you say it anyway. "But you don't have a car." Chris reminds you. "Right." You confirm, looking at your TV, pretending to be really interested in finding something to watch.

"So? Have you?" He questions with a chuckle, not really sure where you were going with that. "Chris, I'm a virgin." You grin at the irony. A second passes and he realizes you were being serious, his jaw drops. "You're joking."

You shake your head, turning to look at him. "But– you're like, a whore." He says, you scoff, "I'm not a whore?"

"Yeah, you are." He shrugs.

"No, I'm not. I literally just told you I'm a virgin." You put the remote down. "That's why I'm shocked, you would tell me about a new boy every week and then forget about them." He says. You pop a shoulder. "I just never felt comfortable enough with them."

"Oh." He mutters. "So you didn't bang?" He draws out.

"So I didn't bang." You confirm.

"You're nuts, you would say the most diabolical shit about them too." He points a finger at you. "I'm most definitely not." You push his finger down. "How old are you again, 19?"

"19 and untouched." You wink, he stares at you for a moment. "What? Can't wrap your head around the fact I've never been creampied?"

You watch Chris close his eyes, wait for a moment, then open them again. "I'd like for you to wrap your head around it."

"What?"

You two burst out laughing.

-

This movie was devastatingly long and the Fritos on the bedside table were completely neglected.

You and Chris were staring at the TV, both of you pretending to be interested in what was going on. Truth was, you both were lost in your own train of thought.

Chris had resorted to an extra pillow over his lap with his mind racing in all different directions. In his defense, he was human. Once you admitted to him that you were a virgin, he could help but think of all the ways that he could strip that away from you. How easy it would be for him to just bend you over and take that purity away from you.

It wasn't the first time he'd thought of you this way, he couldn't help it. You were gorgeous, and he got lucky with the fact that you were interesting. You were probably the only girl he'd met with a soul as beautiful as her face, that's what made you so special to him.

His eyes quickly darted to yours, who were watching the movie with such intent, he saw the screen reflect in your eyes, a new scene playing. The room was dark, the only light being produced was from the illuminated TV, keeping the place a simple shade of dull blue. His sight drags down to your lips. Your full, plump lips.

Chris wonders if you've ever wrapped them around dick before, sucking just as attentively as you were watching that movie. Sliding your tongue across the tip as you slowly pushed the rest in your mouth, your eyebrows arching as you began to stroke the rest of him. Even then, you'd still be considered a virgin.

You turned to look at him, feeling his gaze on you for too long. He didn't bother looking back, holding your stare as you tried putting together what he was thinking of. "Chris?" You asked with the same lips he was just thinking of. "Hm?" He hums, his eyes lazily back on your mouth, studying every word you form. "You okay?"

He nods, you furrow your eyebrows. He was definitely lost in thought. You lower the volume of the movie and he looks back up at you. "Are you celibate?" He asks, out of nowhere. You're taken by surprise, but answer nonetheless. "Not really?"

"Not really." He repeats on his tongue, as if testing the way it would feel on there. "Okay." He says, voice as low as it could get. "You were just never comfortable?" You nod, confirming it. You watch as his eyes slowly brush over every part on your face, eventually resting on your eyes. Through the enlightenment of the TV screen, you watch his dark pupils dilate over his blue eyes. "Would you be comfortable with me?" He finally asks, voice low. You swallow.

He had multiple strands of hair fly messily in multiple directions, some over his forehead. You raise a hand to neat a messy one on his head down, using two fingers to get rid of any potential knots, soothing your hand through it as he bends his head down, letting you. "Yeah." You answer. "I would."

He lifts his head up, his grin soft but undeniable."You wanna test it out?" You felt your heart cage within itself, but as the second passed you realized you wouldn't want to lose it to anyone else. You have been waiting for this moment for a while, a really, really long and dreadful while.You stared at his fidgeting finger before looking back up at him. A simple nod does the trick, and a hand is on the side of your jaw, guiding your mouth to his. You've kissed before, he knew that, but he was still treating you like a delicate flower. His lips pressed against yours and his hand was soft against your skin. You kissed back harder, licking his lips, forcing them open, insinuating for him to let loose.

Both hands go to grab each side of your face this time, kissing you hungrily as he moves himself from beside you to in front of you. Your neck is cranned up as he sits up onto his knees. You raise your hands and slip them under his shirt, feeling his bare skin as they slide down his torso. He pulls away, immediately taking his shirt off.

You looked up at him, his gaze lingering harshly on you as he stared you down. You bit your lip as he slowly grasped the bottom hem of your T-shirt. "Arms up." He orders, and you lift them. He takes the shirt off of you, bunching it up and throwing it to the side of your room. You aren't sure what to do, you hadn't exactly worn a bra under that. You cross your arms over your chest for some sort of coverage, but Chris quickly laces his fingers around your wrist. "It's okay." He tells you, slowly dragging your arms down. "Are you okay?" He asks soft enough to send a shutter down your spine. "I'm okay." You confirm, he leans down to kiss you once more, pulling away just as soon as his lips meet yours, going to take all of you in. Your body felt hot, your chest feeling as if it was steaming the way he memorized each of your curves. He looked up at you, making direct eye contact as he began to take one tit in his mouth as the other was being caressed by his hand. You throw your head back, surprising yourself with a moan as he begins to give you open-mouthed kisses, his tongue grazing over your nipple, validating its hardness.

His mouth begins to trail back up to your collarbone, leaving desperate kisses until he's reached your neck as his empty hand trailed down the side of your hips, his thumbs curling onto the elastic of your pants, pulling them down as he bit down a hickey. You gripped onto his hair, pulling onto the section that fell above the back of his neck as he distracted your mouth with tongue-filled kisses, but you were extremely aware of the hand that had slipped into your panties, two fingers suddenly pressing against you. You whimper.

"Everything okay, princess?" He breathily asks, watching your face scrunch up as he begins to rub your cunt. "So wet for me, how long have you been dreaming of this?" He tries to catch your eyes but they're sewed shut, the soft noises coming from your mouth giving him all the answers you need. His soft and lengthy fingers suddenly pump into you, and you gasp. "Chris." You utter, feeling him pump in and out of you as his thumb grazes harshly onto your clit. You flinch. "Chris." You moan louder.

"That's right, say my name." He says as he pumps you faster, his other hand grabbing the secure of your jaw. He wanted to feel your mouth back on his, he wanted to feel your moans and whines on his mouth. The clench in your stomach reaches an all time high and your hips buckle. Your stomach loosens and you feel your loud moans muffle harder by Chris's refusal to leave your lips, you feel him smirk under the kiss as you cum all over his fingers. "Feel good?" He questions, your nodding is instant and he laughs at the quickness of your answer. Your hand follows his hair as he begins to lower himself, kissing your stomach, thighs, and then your pussy. His tongue trails down your slit, his mouth collecting what had just been your orgasm. Your thighs immediately close around him, your legs going over his shoulders and crossing at your ankles. It was safe to say you've never been eaten out. Until now. And it was heavenly.

Your hands push down on his head, feeling his nose press against you and a huff of laughter giving your pussy a breathy gust of air. "So needy." He hums, licking your folds.

Embarrassingly enough, you reached your second orgasm, pulling hard onto his hair. He looked up at you, smiling with his teeth as white liquid drooped down them and off his chin. He fixes his posture, sitting up but still between your legs.

Catching your breath, you glare at him. "Still a virgin though." He sings the last word happily, memorizing the image in front of him as his hands massaged your thighs.

"You gonna change that or what?" You finally muster up a few real words, challenging him. He raises an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"Take your pants off for me? Let me feel you, Chris." You tell him, sounding awfully like a whiney, desperate order. The smirk is still playing on his lips, looking at you through his messy hair. "And to think you'd had enough."

"You promised me something, remember?" You palm his dick through his sweatpants, feeling him rock hard against your hand. Instinctively, he pushes his hips into your hand, and you squeeze his large size, whimpers sneak from his mouth. "It's obvious you hadn't had enough, though."

Chris wastes no time shoving his pants off taking it right down with his boxers. His dick springs up and you need a moment to register. Okay, woah.

"Finally fuck me?" You wonder. His grip on your hips were tight, as if he was keeping himself from suddenly ramming himself into you, keeping in mind you were trusting him with your virginity. "Finally." He confirms, the idea of fucking you in his mind since the moment he was able to form a thought like that.

He slowly enters himself in you, and your hand clasps around your mouth, trying to keep yourself from screaming at the sudden stretch. He clicks his tongue, letting out a series of curse words. "Fuck, you are so tight." You answer him by pushing yourself onto his cock as he holds you down. You clench yourself around him and he audibly moans, slowly rocking his hips back and forth. Each thrust was long, slow, and wet, you soaked up each movement desperately.

With his hand still holding onto you, he drops his head to look at the sin you two were participating in, guiding your hips in and out of him. Each pull rhythmic as he pushed himself deeper into you as you clench, trying to get used to the feeling. Your whimpers got louder as he went faster, hypnotized by the scene in front of him. He wanted to keep this memory locked in his head forever, how beautiful you looked sprawled against your bed, moaning his name as he thrusted in and out of you, taking away your virginity.

For a moment it all seemed too good to be real, and he went faster, wanting to see just how the narrative in front of him would go. The thrusts harsher and quicker, you gripped the sheets hard and your moans grew louder. "Taking me so well, princess." He hit your G-spot three times too fast, and you practically blasted him with cum. You tried warning him, but he seemed lost in his own mind. As if on cue, he pulled out the moment you came all over his dick. "Fuck." He followed that up with your name, finishing as his orgasm splattered on your stomach and chest, where he'd specifically aim it there.

He flops down on the empty spot beside you, both you guys attempting to catch your breath. A few seconds of shocked but comfortable silence pass.

He turns his head to look at you. "Good or nah? Wanna try again?"

"What, like, take my virginity again?"

"Yeah."

"How about we try a nice shot at my first ever aftercare, yeah? Then I'll consider it."

"Right, of course."

[cheriladycl01]

I cant do this anymore - George Russell x Wolff! Reader P3

Plot: You are the daughter of Toto Wolff team principle of Mercedes-AMG Petronas, you've worked your whole life to become an engineer. However, your dad has other ideas for you and doesn't want you to become a race engineer. You start to confide more in the Red Bull Racing Team Principle to help you get an engineering job, and see him as your present father figure.

Credit to russellius for the GIF

"You ready for our first Grand Prix together Max?" you ask, testing with Max had gone really well and Christian was happy with the dynamic the both of you had. Max as gentle and kind as he was, he was very ambitious and that ambition when it didn't prevail often turned into anger.

Christian saw, in FP1 and FP2 when he didn't think he was performing that well, you just completely calm Max down and talk him through each component of what he needed to improve. He listened to her on took on board when to conserve his tires, when do take turns wider or more sharply etc. And testing couldn't have gone better for Red Bull.

"You know it, lead me to Victory Y/N" he grinned before hopping into the car. You walk over to your station making sure all of the data on the car is looking as good as it did yesterday in qualifying and to check for any errors that could mess Max up in his first few laps. Nothing stuck out, and you could tell that both the car and Max would perform well today.

"Is Y/N here i need to talk to her before the race" you heard through your headphones, you turn seeing George in his racing suit and helmet in hand talking to some of the mechanics.

"Mate, you are a driver. You should be getting in your car for radio check. You cant be in the Red Bull area okay?" he advises, making George look around quickly before huffing and walking away in dissatisfaction.

"Max, Radio Check can you hear me" you ask and get a response immediately.

"Yes, loud and clear! Today will be good!" he exclaims.

And how true he was, you guided him into P1, it was an amazing start to you helping Max win the Championship, Mexico had been an amazing drive for him. He shared a podium with Lewis and Charles. There were a few cameras that caught you and Lewis looking at each other and you giving him a thumbs up.

Media teams were about to have a field day.

"You are amazing Y/N! You know the car so well I bet YOU could be the driver! Those strategies were insane" Max complimented you as he'd taken his helmet off and pulled you into an insanely sweaty hug of thanks for a great first race.

"Oh god, I'm definitely not driver material! Don't tell anyone, but I don't actually have my drivers license" you cringe giggling at him, it was something you'd never needed. Your mum or dad normally drove you around before uni, and once you were there everything was within walking distance. It had just felt pointless.

"No way, you've got to be lying to me" Max laughs, wondering how you'd survived so long without something like that.

"Honestly George or Lewis used to drive me around a lot, when i had to go to the Mercedes HQ back home he'd take me if my parents couldn't! You say a light smile on your face before it turned sour thinking of the mousy brown haired man that had completely lost any trust you had placed in him.

"Lets not think about them. Lets talk about you coming with me, Christian, Geri, Kelly, Sergio, Hugh and Carola?" he asks and a massive grin comes onto your face.

"I'm invited to the Horner dinner, huh? That sounds kinda important and fancy. I might just have to decline" you joke making Max roll his eyes.

"No, you are joining us and are having fun and getting your mind off Thing one and Thing two" he jokes, you tried to keep a serious face but you really couldn't.

"Anyway, considering the Princess cant drive do you want me to take you back to the hotel?" he asks smiling.

"If that's okay with you!" you smile happily, he nods slinging an arm around your shoulder guiding you to the car.

"So when do I finally get to meet P!" you exclaim, even though you'd only been working with Max for a week, you'd gotten to know him very well. You had to considering he had to trust listening to you while he was driving round a track a 200 miles an hour.

"Hmmmm I think Kelly said she'd be bringing her to the race next week. It's Brazil so its an important one for her!" he admits. The conversation flew between you and Max, it was strange really it felt like you'd been friends with him for ages. You had to grovel when it came to any of the Mercedes Drivers in the past, so this easiness to making friends felt good.

That was one thing you'd struggled with. You had a love for F1 straight away considering who you parents were and where you were constantly travelling from race to race until you got to university age. So you didn't actually have many friends who stuck around.

You both eventually ended up at the hotel, you waved at Kelly who was waiting for the both of you and she pulled you into a big hug as she walked over to you.

"You both did amazing today! So proud of you! Y/N, did Max end up inviting you to dinner tonight!" she exclaims, wanting you to be there as well.

"Yes, I'll be there" you smile and say your goodbye's before dashing into your room to get ready for the dinner.

You struggled on what to wear and ended up calling Max to get Kelly to help you on what the dinner vibe was for tonight. You ended up showing her half the stuff you'd brought to Mexico with you and ended up picking one of your nicer dresses from Versace.

You took some pictures before a knock was heard at your door that had you confused as you were meeting up with Kelly and Max outside theirs in 30 minutes.

You opened the door, and looked up to see who had come to the door.

"Omg" you both said at the same time, you tried to slam the door shit. George wouldn't ruin your night, he didn't deserve too.

However, a foot and arm in the door and his general athletic body that made him stronger than you prevented all of that. He practically barged his way in.

You both stood there in awkward silence. George couldn't get over how beautiful you looked. I mean, you were always beautiful to him. But tonight in the black dress that he swore Donatella had personalized just for you, and the way your hair fell around you face in an effortless fashion. He couldn't look away from you.

"If you've come here to accuse me some more, then just leave. I'm about to have a really good night with friends, people who actually care for me and want me to succeed and if I'm being honest I do not need your negativity" you say, turning around to check yourself in the mirror.

"You look gorgeous tonight. So i wont do this tonight, but please meet me in between the Mercedes and Williams garage next week in Brazil. We need to talk. We've been friends for years and I don't want my stupidity to come between us" he says, stepping towards you going to reach out his hand. You step back, it took a lot especially with this ocean blue puppy eyes looking at you with that sad expression that would make anyone fold.

"Please, After Qually, I'm only asking for five minutes Y/N please" he begs trying to catch your eyes but you were doing your best not to look at them too often, knowing you would probably cave.

"I'll think about it. If I'm there we can talk, if not then its up to you if our friendship is really worth waiting for" you admit, walking to the door and opening it up for him as a sign that he should leave.

"I've waited long enough" he mumbles before walking out the door himself and leaving towards the lift that was down the corridor from your room.

The night had gone so well, you were really beginning to feel comfortable around those in Red Bull. The people at the table were being so kind to you as the newbie, Christian pouring you the water, recommending you dishes he liked whilst arguing with the actual Mexican in the room who knew the cuisine of the restaurant like the back of his hand, to offering you the salt and proceeding to do it for you had your heart melting.

It was stupid, really. You shouldn't be this emotional over an older man doing small silly little tasks that you could tackle alone but just was nice to have the offered help. Help that you hadn't received in recent years.

"I really want to thank you all for tonight, its been really nice to hang out with you. And i cant wait for a double podium in Brazil next week!" you exclaim clinking you glass with everyone around the table.

However, George still managed to creep into your mind thanks to his earlier disturbance.

Would he actually apologise?

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @urdad-hot

Hey guys, so i've noticed some people in the taglist aren't getting tagged, I'm not sure if this is username changes or what... but i will start to take of one that don't link to an actual page, so if you see your account name and its not working please feel free to message me, or comment her or on my masterlist of taglist so i can see your knew username!

[merakiui]

sk!manager!azul who offers to eat you out after you get very stressful from idol activities 😳😳😳😳

👁 👁 he gives you the whole "benefits of being sexually active as proven by science" spiel so you're more likely to agree. That, and it would be much harder to do this with just anyone or someone just as famous as yourself. No one has to know. This will be a secret between idol and manager. Even though you seem somewhat hesitant, he insists you'll feel better. Just let your manager soothe you. You're in capable hands. <3 he's so trustworthy! And hasn't he only ever wanted what's best for you?

Now his head is between your legs and he's lapping and suckling at your clit like an expert, working you open with two fingers. He alternates between fingers and mouth, and any reluctance you may have felt in the beginning quickly withers away. Within no time, you're burying your fingers in his hair and clamping your thighs together to keep him trapped there. He's removed his glasses so they won't get in the way, and every now and then the both of you meet each other's stare. You've never noticed just how beautiful his eyes are. So striking. So hypnotic,,, your brain is mush by your third orgasm, and you're panting and gasping, begging him to keep going. Not like he intends to stop. He's wanted this for years and now he finally has it. Of course he's going to be greedy!

You're not really listening to yourself when you ask him if he's dating or married. You never hear much about your manager's personal life even though he seems to know so much of yours. Azul hums against your slick cunt. Would you be upset if he was? Would you like to put a ring on him? Should he just propose to you now?

If only all of those loser fans of yours knew what you were getting up to right now. All of that nonsense about being a pure idol free of romantic entanglements and here you on squirting for him like the slutty idol you really are. :) you're just too cute. He wants you all to himself, and soon he'll have you. Soon the two of you will live a peaceful life in isolation. Somewhere quiet and slow by the sea. Doesn't that sound marvelous?

He's killed for you. Stalked you. Fucked into his hand while listening to the voicemails you'd leave him on his work phone: "Hi, Azul! Vil and I are thinking of doing a collab. Could you help me arrange something?" or "Azul, sorry for calling so late. I just remembered something important. Can you review my schedule with me again? I think I'm forgetting something you mentioned earlier today..." or "Would it look weird if I started studying to get my driver's license? Do you think that would get me in trouble? Actually, maybe we should just meet up and talk about it in person... Thanks anyways, Azul!"

You're just so perfect. Even these strictly professional voicemails are hailed as the sweetest songs. He's so depraved. Nothing like the composed, cordial manager he masquerades as. Would you hate him if you knew that? Would you look at him differently? Would you stop saying his name in that sweet, breathless voice of yours as he brings you to your end once more? Maybe it's best if you don't know. He's worked so hard to get to this point. It would be a shame to ruin things now.

Besides, what you don't know can't hurt you.

[bonny-kookoo]

Hii, i came on here after months and i immediately fell in love with the i like you couple..

i’m gonna be true to my angst loving ass and ask: how do we have to imagine the situation when kook lashes out with words? do you have a little snippet or something for that maybe or obviously you can just simply answer it’s up to you:) is he mean mean and how does oc deal with him during those times?:|

AN: Haha, warning for angst, obviously. -Masterlist

He knows he's being unreasonable. He should just apologize that he forgot, and move on with it- but for some reason, it's been growing over his head, out of his hands. The jokes of his supposed 'friends' at the gym about his new 'barbie' girlfriend, the fact that he's dealing with jealousy for the first time, and now, you just being reasonably upset over the fact that he knew he had to pick you up from work today, and simply.. didn't.

He doesn't even know why he didn't do it. He just felt too shitty to really get up from his couch.

"Are you even listening to me right now?" You whine, and at that, he snaps.

"I'm not, no, because it's really hard to keep up with the amount of words you're spewing right now." He bites at you, and you're visibly taken aback by his tone. "I get it, I fucked up, jesus christ yeah you had to walk home for once, get over it! Next time get yourself a fucking cab maybe, I'm not your personal slave!" He scoffs, leaving you in the kitchen by yourself, while he himself locks himself in the bathroom to shower, and maybe calm down.

Fucking hell, he'd never yelled like that before. Especially not at you.

He feels like shit as his mood starts to shift underneath the warm water from the shower, guilt creeping up on him. He knows you can't do your drivers license because you're terrified of driving yourself- and yeah, maybe that's why he used that fact to hurt you. He also knows you're insecure about asking things of him- so yeah.

Now that he thinks about it, that was a low blow.

But he just wanted you to stop being so mad at him, he just wanted to have you be quiet for once, because he just couldn't take anymore today.

But he knows it's wrong to be like this. Especially with you, his fucking girlfriend. You had every right to be upset at him, and he deserved the way you were mad at him. Hell, you didn't even curse at him once, he just realized, you were so fucking gentle in telling him that you are disappointed- you never said you were mad at him for not picking him up.

You were just mad that he didn't say anything, making you worry if he was okay.

Fuck.

He dries off, get's dressed, and reemerges from the bathroom with a shameful stance, ready to apologize-

when he notices his apartment is empty. You've left, and he didn't even hear you leave, meaning you must've made sure he didn't notice. A text is sent to you, but he decides to try and call you straight after- but you don't pick up.

Another text is unanswered. Read, but never replied to.

The next few texts over the course of the night don't even get a 'read' anymore. He knows he must've hurt you to ignore him like that, because usually, you'll make your emotions known. You're bold and honest and open, it's what he loves about you- and right now, it terrifies him.

He wants you to shout at him. Yell at him, curse him out over text, anything.

But even the day after, you refuse to acknowledge any of his attempts at communication- even a knock on your door being ignored.

He really fucked up, didn't he?

"Pretty shit being ignored, hm?" You say behind him, putting the heavy looking grocery bags down next to you. He can see the way your fingers are red- they must be hurting bad from the weight of the bags having to be carried all the way from the store up here to your apartment. But even now that he's here, you slap his hands away from the bags when he tries to help, taking them from him instead. "You're not my slave, stop acting like it." You snap, not sparing him a glance as you take your bags inside, his hand quickly reaching out so the door can't fall shut.

"I'm sorry I said that-" He shamefully admits, quietly so, as he watches you unpack the groceries and put them away.

"hmhm." You just hum, still not looking at him.

He wants to say something, but he can't- he doesn't know what he should say, what he can say to make you feel just a little better. So he turns around, when suddenly, your hands slap your babypink kitchen counter.

"So now you're just gonna fuck off?" You say, loudly so, finally looking at him. "That's it? Just leave her be and she'll crawl back eventually?" You accuse, and he shakes his head. "Then what? What's the plan here?!" You yell, and he feels like a little kid getting scolded.

"I don't know what else to do." He whines a little, unsure, uncomfortable. He doesn't want to be in this situation, that's true- and usually, he would do exactly what you accuse him of. Leave, and hope that once he feels better, people will come back to him.

"You're my fucking boyfriend!" You whine, turning around to have your body face him. "I don't know, fucking hug me, or hold my hand, or give me a fucking sign that you care about me!" You say, voice cracking a bit. "We talked about this, Jungkook. I need things like that, I-" You swallow, hard. "-I need, like, something. Give me anything. I feel horrible right now." You beg, and at that he walks towards you, holds you close and sways you from side to side a bit while you hide your face in his chest. "I really love you, but that was mean.." You whimper, and he nods.

"I know." He agrees. "I'm sorry. I really am." He tells you again, and you nod, trying to break free again- but he doesn't budge. "No- you're right." He suddenly says. "I don't.. ever really hold you. I don't make any effort at all." Jungkook sighs, realizing what's been making you so uneasy since the beginning of your relationship. "I just.. I guess, hoped it would turn out okay. That my life is gonna.. stay the same, just with you in it now." He offers, and you cling a bit to the back of his shirt. "But that's the lazy way. And I should stop being lazy."

"I'm sorry I'm so difficult." You mumble against his chest. "I try not to be so clingy-"

"No, be clingy." He disagrees. "You've been... adjusting all the time. All up until now. If anything, you were forced to be my slave, not the other way around." Jungkook realizes. "And that.. needs to stop. I'll be better from now on." He promises.

"I don't want you to change-" You start, but he shakes his head again.

"'I'm not changing." He denies. "I'm gonna adjust, just like you did for me. I love when you're clingy, and loud, and dancing around in the morning, and when you send me weird pictures of dogs you meet every day." He chuckles. "I want to, you know.. aahrgh this is so fucking weird-" He complains to himself, and he laughs.

"No no no, go on, you're doing great." You joke, laughing along.

"I wanna.. you know. Call you stuff." He admits, and you lean away at that to look at him.

"Like, during sex? Geez we've not even had sex yet-" You start, but he shakes his head, ears red, clearly embarrassed.

"No, like.. you know. You call me stuff all the time." He tries again, and you suddenly seem to realize.

"Oooh, like Baby? Babe? Hot guy?" You say, and he nods.

"I don't wanna call you the last one but you get the point." He shrugs, and you nod.

"You don't have to, you know." You say, your arms now resting around his neck. "We can just do small steppies." You shrug.

"I know, but I want to." He admits. "It's just.. hard for me. So, I don't know.. please be patient with me." He carefully asks, and you suddenly smile, pulling him down for a quick peck on his lips.

"I can do that." You nod, before you part from him, dancing towards one of the grocery bags. "Now.. let's eat some icecream!" You laugh, and he shakes his head with a smile.

Happy that he's finally got you back.

[lillyphoenix]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 12

A/N: We're fast approaching the end here, but have no fear! There's at least three chapters after this one! Still, I hope everyone sticks around. The end will be worth it; I promise! ICYMI, this is the time travel/soulmate AU between Elvis and a fem!reader. We pick up in 2018/1968.

Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: ~3.5k

After a deep breath, you walk through the portal together and find yourselves outside the studio in 2018.

******

Luckily, Elvis has his drivers license from your time in his wallet. He's kept it with him just in case he happened to need it, so you're able to fly together back to your mom's house to get John Jessie.

When you pull up in front of the house, it hits you that you're going to have to introduce Elvis to your mother. You fidget with the ring on your finger and sit in the car without moving.

"Honey? Are we going in?"

"I just hope my mother buys the story."

"The story?"

"I tell people that you are gone for work. Most people don't question it, but this is my mother. She knows me. I just hope she can't tell I'm lying. She doesn't even know I'm married."

"Is it a problem that I'm here?"

"I hope not. She might say something about the fact that you haven't been around before."

"That's not my fault."

"Well, I know that, but I'm not sure she'll buy it."

"Okay. I can handle whatever she says. Let's just go inside. I want to see him."

You take a deep breath and get out of the car. He walks around and takes your hand, kissing your fingers reassuringly.

"I love you, El-"

"John. I love you too, honey. It'll be okay."

"Right. John."

You walk up to the door and knock gently. Your mom hollers from inside.

"Just a second!" After a few minutes, she opens the door with John Jessie on her hip. "Oh, y/n, you brought... who is this?"

Elvis puts his hand on your back to steady you.

"This is John Jessie's father, Mom, John Burrows."

"Oh. Oh my. Well, come on in." She pushes the screen door open and lets you both walk in the door. You can tell Elvis is itching to grab his son and hold him, but your mom has a tight grip on him.

"Mom, can we have a minute? Please?" She turns to Elvis.

"You've never seen him before, have you?"

"No ma'am." You notice Elvis blushing and step in to help.

"John works for the government. When he's on assignment, there's no way to reach him. I couldn't tell him about John Jessie until yesterday." You're a little shocked at how smoothly the lie comes out of you. Still, this is the answer you always give when asked about your husband; he's "on assignment". You never expected to tell it to your mom, though. She looks back and forth between you both skeptically for a second.

"Can I hold him? Please?" Elvis's tone is so sincere, though, that she melts. She carefully hands over John Jessie.

"Mom. A minute, please?" She nods slowly and leaves the room.

As soon as she's gone, Elvis holds John Jessie to himself and lets the tears stream down his face silently. He talks quietly to him and bounces lightly. John Jessie seems to sense that Elvis is familiar for some reason because he doesn't cry or try to wiggle away. He just lets Elvis hold him and listens to his voice. Elvis sits on the couch with him and his tears turn to laughter as he plays with his son. You sit on the couch next to him and wipe your own tears away. You never thought this would be possible. He realizes you're still crying and puts one hand on your thigh as he holds John Jessie with the other.

"Our son is amazing. Thank you, y/n." You nod and lay your head on his shoulder.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too, honey." He kisses your hair and John Jessie squeals and pats on Elvis's chest. "Can we take him home?"

"Of course." You call to your mom to help you pack up his things. As you pack, she nods to Elvis.

"He's wearing a wedding ring."

"Yeah. Well." You hold up your hand and show her your ring. "So am I."

Your mom looks at you in utter shock.

"We've been married for two years. He's just been gone the whole time."

"Is he back for good now?"

"No. He's only here for a few days."

Your mom grabs you and pulls you into a hug. She's been worried about you for so long, maybe even been judging you a little for getting pregnant randomly. But now that she knows more about your situation, she understands how hard this must've been for you.

Elvis sits on the floor and continues playing with John Jessie as you finish packing all of his things. Your mom watches and then turns to you again.

"He seems like a good man."

"He is."

"Are you happy?"

"Yes, when he's here. It's hard to be without him."

"I bet it is. I'm sorry sweetie; I had no idea."

"It's okay. It's the only way we can be together and I'd rather be with him when I can than not at all."

"You really love him."

"I do. And he loves me."

Your mom nods and you grab the last few things to pack. As you go to say goodbye, your mom kisses John Jessie in his car seat. Then, she turns to Elvis and gives him a hug.

"It was nice to meet you. I hope we'll get to see you again soon."

"Thank you, ma'am."

He carries the car seat to the car and you show him how to click it into the base.

"Well, these things have changed a little in the last 50 years." You laugh.

"That's an understatement."

You get into the car on the passenger side and let Elvis drive you back to your house. John Jessie falls asleep in the car and you revel in the joy of having your family together, even if it's just for a few days.

******

You spend the next six days in domestic bliss. Elvis proves to be exactly the kind of father you thought he'd be. He's playful, caring, patient, and affectionate. One night, you wake up to an empty bed and panic a little. But you find him in John Jessie's room, rocking him and singing quietly. Once he lays the baby back down, he walks to you in the doorway and wraps you in his arms, kissing your cheek.

"You're an unbelievable father."

"I'm just so happy to be here with you both." His smile is so genuine that it breaks your heart.

"I wish you could stay forever."

"I do too, honey. But this isn't the last time I'll be here, right?"

"No. I've been trying to think of a plan." You walk back to your bedroom and crawl in bed with him, settling with his arm around you and your head on his chest.

"So, a plan?" He asks.

"Well, the portals appear when we're in the same place 50 years apart, right?"

"Yeah."

"What if I tell you where and when to meet me?" He raises his eyebrows like he's thinking it over.

"How would you tell me?"

"Every time you're here, I'll have it planned for the next time."

"I don't see why that wouldn't work. How often are you thinking?"

"Well, I think it would be hard to do it too often. Maybe every few months?" He sighs. It's obvious he doesn't want to be away from you that long.

"That long?"

"If you're here too often, someone might notice that your hair changes or something. And I don't want you to get lost in living two lives."

"Okay. That makes sense. I still wish I could just bring Lisa and come here."

"I know, babe, but you really can't."

"Yeah. I just miss you. And now I'm going to miss him too." He kisses your hair and squeezes you tighter.

"It'll be okay. We'll make it work somehow." You yawn and snuggle into his chest.

"I know, honey. I know." He kisses your hair again and you both settle in to go back to sleep.

******

After six days, you can tell he's getting antsy to get back to his other life. When you have sex that night and the portal appears, he lays his head on your shoulder and sighs.

"You're ready to go, aren't you?"

"I'm so sorry, honey."

"No, it's okay, I understand." He gets up and gathers his things together to go back to where he came from. Once he's ready, he grabs you and holds you close.

"Don't forget. November 18th, California."

"Yes, baby, I know. I'll see you then."

"I wouldn't complain if you're wearing your movie costume. Just sayin'." He smiles and kisses your mouth.

"Whatever you say, honey." With that, he turns and disappears through the portal. You sit on the bed and cry. Will it ever get easier for him to leave you?

******

The answer is no. It never gets any easier. He comes to you in November, and brings his costume from The Trouble with Girls, which makes for some fun times in the bedroom. You spend Thanksgiving together and then he goes back through a portal.

He comes to you again in December and he's there with you for two weeks during Christmas and New Year's. But he leaves on the first and goes back to his own time to have Christmas with Lisa.

You manage to coordinate visits every couple of months for the next year. He watches John Jessie grow and you live as a happily married couple whenever he's around. He goes out with your friends sometimes and you fight and make up just like a real couple.

Somewhere in November of 2019, he has an idea.

"What if we had another baby?"

"Another baby?!"

"Yeah? You've done such a good job with John Jessie. I always wanted more kids."

"What about with Priscilla?" He scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"No. I want them with you."

"Well. I guess I could handle two if you come to me as often as you do now."

"Baby, I'm not gonna change the plan unless you do."

You smile widely and he grabs you in his arms and holds you tight. You throw your birth control pills in the trash and practice that night, even though you know he has to leave.

******

He comes back in December for you to have Christmas together. He's careful to bring cash, so he can buy presents for you and John Jessie.

On Christmas Eve, you get John Jessie in bed and sit together in the living room looking at the lights on the Christmas tree. He fetches a small gift from under the tree and puts it in your lap.

"What is this?"

"I want you to open it now." You tear open the wrapping on the small box and then open the box. It's a new ring.

"Oh, Elvis, I can't accept this."

"Yes you can. My wife has been wearing that small diamond for long enough. Please." He pulls the emerald cut three-stone diamond ring out of the box and slides it onto your finger gingerly.

"Elvis, this is like-"

"10 carats. I promised you no less." He wraps his arms around you and kisses your forehead.

"Do you like it, honey?"

"I love it so much, babe. Almost as much as I love you." You look up and he kisses your lips. Your relationship has reached the kind of comfortable intimacy that comes with marriage and you're happy to go on like this for as long as you can. You know there's an end date that will come far too soon, but for right now, you're happy together.

"Hey." He whispers in your ear.

"Yeah?"

"Remember when we made love on the floor in front of the fireplace and I proposed to you?"

"After we played in the snow? Of course I remember."

"Do you wanna...?" He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"Mmmm let's go get in bed."

"No, I mean right here."

"What if John Jessie wakes up?" He starts to lay you down on the couch and kisses your neck.

"Then he'll catch us making him a sibling." He drags his tongue up from your neck to your ear and nibbles gently.

"Mmmmm seriously though..." You lose your train of thought as he runs his hand up the front of your sweatshirt and squeezes your naked breast. He runs his thumb over your hardening nipple and groans.

"You really gonna say no, baby?" He rolls his hips into yours and presses his erection into your center. You moan and kiss his lips, sliding your tongue into his mouth.

"No." You whisper against him, smiling.

"That's what I thought." He pulls your sweatshirt up and over your head and then sits up to take his shirt off. Laying back down on top of you, he grinds into you again and groans. "I wanna be inside you so bad, baby."

"Mmmm what are you waiting for?" He sits up again and pulls your pajama pants off of you and situates himself between your legs.

"This first." He kisses the inside of one thigh and then the other. Then, he slides his tongue into your slit and pushes it in and out over and again. You whimper and bite your lip trying to stay quiet. He moves his tongue up to your clit and swirls it around in a circle. You run your fingers through his hair and he smiles.

"Don't stop!" You whisper.

"Yes ma'am." He presses his mouth to you and begins to lick you vigorously, over and around and up and down each side. The sensation of his tongue on your most sensitive place is so intensely good that you forget yourself for a moment and moan loudly.

"Elvisssss."

"Honey, you're gonna wake the boy." He whispers, backing off of you. You nod and move his head back down to your center. This time he adds two fingers and slips them inside you to tickle the place that drives you crazy. You whimper again and squirm under him. The electricity is gathering in your core and you feel your orgasm approaching. He feels your walls flutter and flattens his tongue against you. Then, he pulls back for just a second.

"Come for daddy, baby." The subtle vibration runs through you and he tightens his tongue and licks you hard.

"Mmm yesssss..." You hiss as your climax sets you on fire and runs through you in waves. He keeps right on licking you as you ride the high of your orgasm. Once you come back down to earth, he backs off of you and wipes his mouth with his hand. You sit up and pull his pajama pants off, pushing him into a sitting position. He strokes himself as you put one knee on either side of his hips. Then, he grabs yours and guides you as you sink onto his rock hard cock.

"Fuck yes, baby." He groans softly as he slides inside you. It doesn't matter how many times you do this, the feeling of him filling you perfectly is something that'll never get old. He moves his hands up to cup your breasts as you begin to grind on him, pushing him deeper and deeper inside you. You move on him faster and he leans his head back on the couch and closes his eyes. Then, without any warning, he grabs you around the waist and flips you over on your back without pulling out of you.

You whimper with the change in position and he starts driving into you passionately. With each thrust, he grunts and slams into you harder. He holds your hip with one hand and fucks you so deeply you want to scream it feels so good. But you don't, in case John Jessie hears you.

"God, I love your pussy." He groans quietly. "I'm gonna come, honey."

"Good. Put a baby in me." He groans again and then pounds into you and shudders.

"Fuck yes!" He yells and then looks around quickly. "Oh shit."

He pumps weakly a few more times and then lays his head on your shoulder without pulling out. You're in this position together breathing heavily and sweating when you hear a door open and tiny feet coming toward you. In half a second, Elvis grabs the blanket on the back of the couch and throws it over his back, but he doesn't move otherwise.

"Daddy? Santa here? What doin'?" You hear his little not-quite-three-year-old voice. Elvis pops his head up and looks at him over the armrest.

"No, Buddy, Santa didn't come yet. Go back to bed; I'll be there in just a minute." You try to sink into the couch and not make a sound. The last thing you need is for him to come looking for you.

"You comin'?"

"Yep, buddy, in more ways than one. I'll see you in a little bit, okay? Go get back in your bed." You hear his little feet as he makes his way back to his bedroom and closes the door. Thank God he went back on his own. Elvis collapses on your shoulder and laughs quietly.

"I told you we would get caught!" You whisper as you laugh.

"Yeah, but it was worth it." He kisses your cheek and your mouth and then pulls out of you and sits up. You grab your clothes and get dressed as he does the same. When he goes to walk to John Jessie's room, he almost walks through the portal, but you grab the back of his shirt just in time.

"Shit, it's a night of close calls." He leans over and kisses you gently. "I'd be lost without you. I love you so much, baby. I'll see you in bed."

He goes to your son's room and you hear him talking to him in a reassuring voice. As you go to your bedroom and climb in bed, you have one thought: how did you get so lucky?

******

On New Year's Day you prepare to say your goodbyes. But you've done this so many times that even though it doesn't get easier, it does become more of a routine. Once you finish making love and the portal appears, he puts back on the clothes that he had on when he came through while you grab John Jessie from his nap. He kisses both of you and looks over at the portal.

"I'll be back in March for his birthday. I love you both so much. I'll see you soon."

"I love you too, Elvis." He puts his hand on your cheek.

"I'll miss you every minute."

"I know, babe, but it's only a few months." He nods and kisses your cheek again. Then, he turns and walks through the portal. It disappears with a pop and you try to swallow your tears. You fail, like always, and they slide down your cheeks while you hold John Jessie close. Only a few months until he's back.

******

Two things happen in those months. First, you find out you're pregnant again. And you're ecstatic and can't wait to tell Elvis when you see him in March. This visit increases in importance and you count the days.

But a second thing happens in the months leading up to March of 2020. A new virus hits the world and everything changes. You sit in terror watching the tv as people begin to die and the country begins to shut down. Between John Jessie and the new baby in your belly, you know you can't risk going out. Still, you plan to wear two masks and go to Vegas to meet Elvis.

And then Vegas shuts down. You consider what might happen if Elvis comes to you and then takes Coronavirus back to 1970.

There's no way you can take that risk. Or risk either of your babies' lives by traveling. The date of your rendezvous comes and goes and you still sit hunkered in your house. Surely it'll be safe enough again someday for you to find him?

In the meantime, you hold yourself and cry harder than you have in a long time. Will you ever see him again?

******

Elvis waits in the meeting place all day. He cancels his evening shows and sits on the floor, head spinning. His heart is beating so fast and his hands are sweating.

What happened to you? You've never missed a meeting point before. And he has a sinking feeling that he can't explain like something terrible has happened. Eventually, the tears fall and one of his guys finds him holding his knees, head on his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Hey, EP, what's going on? Are you okay?" The only thing he says in return is something that doesn't make any sense to anyone around.

"Why didn't she come for me?"

******

Until next time!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11 @tacozebra051

[bitchesgetriches]

hi bitches. i'm a 21 year old chronically ill girlfailure who doesn't have a driver's license and is almost completely reliant on my parents. i've been burnt out from school after a bout of severe depression which worsened my adhd symptoms as well as my dysautonomia

my dad got me a personal finance book for christmas once and i lost it. i'm admittedly a bit skeptical of personal finance spheres because so many of the people in there are usually geared toward cishet grindset attitude grifter type men.

anyway, my question is, how do i start building up a foundation for personal finance? how do i get a job as someone with a disability (and apparently a personality that bosses hate)?

This is SO weirdly coincidental, but... my dad once got me a personal finance book too (it was Dave Ramsey and it deserved to be stabbed and burned) and "cishet grindset attitude grifter type men" is literally the opposite of our target demographic!

Anyway, I feel you baby. While we don't have all the answers, we're slowly working our way there. Which is why we have a lot of advice for you over on our main site, broken down by topic. But I think you should probably start here:

The Financial Order of Operations: 10 Great Money Choices for Every Stage of Life 

How To Start at Rock Bottom: Welfare Programs and the Social Safety Net 

Good luck, honey. We're rooting for you.

Did we just help you out? Join our Patreon!

[thezombieprostitute]

Always the Bridesmaid

Summary: after years of always being the bridesmaid, your sister's wedding suddenly nets you the interest of two incredibly handsome, charming men.

A/N: entirely written on my phone. Not proofread or edited. All mistakes are my own.

Part 2

Another wedding, another bridesmaid dress for the collection. Between family and friends you'd been to more weddings than you care to count and never for yourself. No, that would require meeting someone who wasn't an asshole and was actually interested in you. You did enjoy seeing your friends so happy at these things. The open bar didn't hurt, either.

It was the wedding of your youngest sister, being held at the fanciest hotel the families could afford, and you were being paired up with one of the groom's best friends. Nick was damn handsome and so very polite when you were introduced at the rehearsal. He even pulled out your chair for you at dinner. It was refreshing to meet a tall, handsome, charismatic man with manners.

The two of you talked for as much as you could during the rehearsal and dinner. He seemed to genuinely enjoy your stories. His eyes sparkled whenever he smiled and it made you swoon.

Turns out he's a high ranking CIA official. When you expressed how impressive that is he got a little shy saying, "well, it takes a lot of work which doesn't leave a lot of time for socializing. I'll admit, it's kinda... Not depressing, that's not the right word. But my youngest friend is getting married and I'm just feeling my age."

"I get that," you console. "He's marrying my youngest sister. Meanwhile I can't get a guy past a few dates."

"I find that hard to believe," he purrs. "A pretty, intelligent woman like you?"

"That's very sweet of you, Nick. Though clearly untrue or else I'd have attended my own wedding by now."

A small hubbub of activity starts up from the groomsmen, getting your attention. Nick chuckles, "we gotta get the groom out of here for the night." He takes your hand and kisses it, "promise me you'll save me a dance tomorrow?"

"Of course," you smile. "And thank you."

Nick smiles and heads out with the other groomsmen.

A while later you get back to your hotel room only to realize you've lost your room key. Searching through your purse and pockets and you can't find it. Resigning yourself to the embarrassment you head to the front desk to request a replacement.

The man at the desk is tall and fit with a very calm, approachable demeanor that you're sure isn't just a work thing for him. He projected an air of calm, patient confidence.

"Umm, please excuse me," you say softly, trying to be at your most polite for interrupting whatever he was working on.

He smiles as he looks at you, "how may I help you, Madam?"

"I lost my room key," you start. "I'm so sorry. I really don't know where I could've lost it and I'm so very sorry and-"

"It's quite alright," he interrupts with a smile. "These things happen. Now, what is your room number?"

You relax a little under his polite gaze and give him your name and room number.

He looks it up in the computer before saying, "for security reasons I will need some ID."

Thankfully the only thing missing from your purse was the key and your wallet was still intact. You hand him your driver's license and he confirms the information before handing it back to you.

"May I escort you to your room and make sure the keycard works," he asks. "I would hate for you to have to make more trips than necessary."

"That works for me. Thank you so much!"

"It's no trouble at all," he says in such a way that you believe him.

As you're walking back to the room the two of you strike up a conversation. It turns out he's regularly going between hotels in the chain and making sure they're up to snuff.

"It must be nice to get to travel so much," you sigh. "I so rarely get to do so."

"Well it can be nice," he nods. "But it can also be quite lonely. Events like your sister's wedding really strike home how nice it would be to have a travel companion."

"I find it hard to believe someone like you doesn't have anyone," you scoff. "You're far too handsome and charming."

He blushes a little and smiles, "I won't deny having occasional company but it's only ever for an evening or two. I would truly enjoy something more consistent."

"I understand," you nod. "I haven't been able to get more than a few dates out of any guy I've gone out with. It would be lovely to have something that lasts."

"Now it is my turn to scoff," he smiles. "A woman as enchanting as you would have no problems winning over the heart of any man."

"Tell that to all of my dates."

"I would gladly do so, Madam," he takes your hand, "if it would make you happy." He gently kisses the back of your hand as you reach your room. He confirms that the keycard works and hands it to you.

"Thank you, so much, for all of your help, Sir."

"Call me Jonathan, please," he smiles.

"Gladly," you giggle.

"If I'm being too forward, please feel free to tell me 'no' but, would you be willing to save a dance for me tomorrow?"

"I'd love that, Jonathan."

If, if, and IF you can make a convincing argument for both I will consider. I will not be partaking in the voting so I will not know who is winning until the end of the poll.

Tagging @alicedopey and @rayofdawnworld because they inspired this.

Tagging @icefrozendeadlyqueen because I promised I would.

Part 2

[jo-harrington]

Standard Operating Procedures 1.03 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie is no stranger to disappointment, but it still stings, regardless.

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.02 (Like...it immediately precedes 1.03)

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual pining and slow burn (yes still, always). Chekhov's...Guitar(?), Sad Boy Eddie, Disappointment, Kind of an argument, Disillusioned Eddie, Hurt/Comfort, fluff at the end as per usual.

Note: I am admittedly just making some shit up in this chapter strictly because I don't know how certain things were in the 80s and have already done my fair share of research and math for this fic. I'm a tired girl. Suspend your sense of disbelief. I hope it's seamless regardless.

Also, I just want to say, thank you for all the love this little series has gotten so far. Everyone has been so kind. If you haven't gotten some already, here's some soft internet magic to help you find your own Eddie Munson or mall romance or whatever it is you're looking for. *perpetual magical forehead smooch*

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other random Eddie Headcanons.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"M'home!" Eddie announced as he bounded into the trailer. "Isn't it time to make the donuts, old man? Didn't expect you to still be here."

"Eh, Marty's got some appointment tomorrow, so I traded him for 2nd shift," Wayne sighed, sinking further into his arm chair. "Didn't get home too long before you and I don't plan to leave this chair for a good few hours."

"Well, I'll make myself scarce so you can enjoy Johnny Carson in peace," Eddie chuckled, knowing his uncle didn't get much of a chance to indulge in his favorite programs with his work schedule.

"Did ya' have a good session tonight?"

"No session. We went out to celebrate Gareth getting his drivers license."

"S'that why you're so giddy?" Wayne teased good-naturedly.

Eddie thought about it for a second as he kicked off his sneakers, realizing that he had been in a pretty good mood tonight. It had been a fun night out with the guys. And of course, you were there.

It made him happy that you got along with his friends.

And he got to sit next to you and sneak little glances when you didn't know he was watching. And he got to hear the little hitch of your breath at the jump scares and imagine that it would do the same if he kissed your neck the way he wanted to, someday.

You had leaned in close at one point and put your head on his shoulder...only to whisper some joke about a continuity error you spotted. And then grinned when he burst out laughing, only to get confused looks from the guys and curses from the other moviegoers.

It only got better when you agreed to go out on Halloween, as much as he felt like an absolute idiot for asking you.

Who asks a girl to go Trick or Treating? What was he, in 3rd grade? On the upside, it meant you still planned to be his friend come October.

Maybe you would be more than a friend by then.

If he could just get the courage to...actually ask you out.

It wouldn't be that hard, right? He would just have to...maybe hold your hand and ask if you'd ever want...well no that wasn't right...

Fuck. He'd done it before; he'd mostly gotten no's but...

"Y-yeah," Eddie finally responded, realizing his uncle was waiting for an answer. "Zombie movie. You know I like those. Gareth was practically pissing his pants."

"Well good. And you tell that boy not to let the driving thing get to his head," Wayne coughed. "He still owes me a new mailbox after your driving lessons.

"Speaking of which, there's mail for you on the counter," Wayne waved his hand in the direction of the kitchen.

Eddie shuffled over and thumbed through the envelopes, debating whether or not to pull a Carnac the Magnificent just to get a laugh out of his uncle, only to freeze when he reached the bright blue envelope at the bottom of the stack.

ROANE COUNTY PARKS, RECREATION, & COMMUNITY SERVICES

He didn't even need a second to think before he sprinted across the trailer to shove his feet back into his sneakers, grabbed his keys, and shouted a quick "imgoingtojeffsdontwaitup" as he raced out the door.

If it was any other time, he would have called first. Or waited until the morning. But if he knew his friends--and he knew them well--they went and got Dairy Queen after the movies, and Gareth would be pulling into Jeff's sleepy little cul de sac off Maple any minute now. There was no time to waste.

This was big, for all of them. He couldn’t do this alone.

He drove with the radio off, he kept his hands at ten and two, made a full stop at every stop sign, and didn't even speed like he usually would. Not one mile over the limit. He couldn't risk Callahan catching his scent tonight. And he prayed to every god, goddess, demon, devil, deity—every pantheon—he knew that everything could just be in his favor tonight.

It's just the fair, but what if this is the next step on the road to something bigger.

Eddie started honking as soon as he could see the tail lights of the station wagon. He didn't care who he woke up or what neighbor would call the cops. He didn't even remember putting the van in park before he jumped out; it could have rolled off a cliff, he wouldn't have cared.

The other guys started screaming as he waved the envelope at them.

"This is it, this is it. Did you open it yet?

"A real show, guys."

"Do we need new equipment? Shit, do we need eyeliner?"

"Alright guys calm down," Eddie grinned. "We have to open the envelope first."

They huddled together in the middle of the cul de sac, hovering over the envelope and Eddie held his breath for a moment. This would be the moment...

The moment that they could tell everyone they really started on the road to making it big.

The moment they got their first real set, their first big crowd.

Maybe there would be some talent scout at the fair. They showed up at these sorts of things right?

He might not even need to go back to Hawkins High come September.

Or even if he did…to know that he might be a real rockstar some day...He could ignore all of the shit from the kids and the teachers. It wouldn't need to be another year of ridicule and humiliation.

He ripped through the thin blue paper and pulled out the folded letter within, dropping the envelope immediately in favor of clutching it with both hands as he read.

His hands started to shake as he read, and it was only getting worse by the second.

He was going to vomit. Or...or pass out. Or...

Unfortunately due to the family-oriented nature of this event, the genre of music included in your proposed set list has been deemed inappropriate and we regret to inform you that your application for this year's Roane County 4th of July Festival has been denied.

Eddie was going to die. He would lay down, right here in the middle of the street, and die. They could just re-pave the street right over his corpse.

Here lies Eddie Munson.

Wannabe Rockstar.

He didn't even make it to his 20th birthday.

He finally looked up and passed the letter around, watching--painfully--as their dreams were shattered too. He gauged Jeff's reaction most of all, since he had been the one to propose the idea in the first place. But Jeff was fine; he was just looking right back at Eddie.

"You ok, man?" he asked.

"It's just a stupid fair," Eddie sniffed, ignoring the stinging of his eyes as he fought back the tears.

"Yeah," Dave nodded. "There's always next summer."

Next summer. Next year.

Another year he probably wasn't gonna graduate again. Another year stuck in this not-even-one-horse-town.

Sure, he was probably getting ahead of himself with the ideas of fame. But outright rejection? It stung. To be denied the chance to perform, to show off all of their talent, because of the set list he chose.

The guys all trusted him, he always chose songs that highlighted their strengths. Always wanted them to look and play their best. He was so proud of them, he never wanted them to fail.

But they trusted him and it let them down.

And because of that, Eddie couldn't let everything fall apart because he failed.

"They couldn't even let us pick some new songs," Eddie swallowed his pain and laughed dryly. "They don't know what they're missing out on."

It wasn't much, but it was enough to get them going.

"Hey maybe we could write some more original songs for next year?"

"I think if we practiced, I could really nail that one drum solo, hey Ed?"

"We would have totally melted some faces!"

They always held it together for him; he definitely could do it for them too.

---

“Are you sure he’s gonna like this one?”

“This is the newest model,” Eddie explained with a sigh, turning the box over to show off the list of New and Improved features on the back.

The customer was a sleepy-looking older guy in glasses and a wrinkled polo, who walked in 10 minutes before closing, whose wife apparently sent him out for their son’s birthday present: a new Walkman.

And the asshole was really dragging his feet on a decision. Eddie had all of the options they offered laid out on the display case, they'd gone over the different features several times. He almost had the sale, and then the guy realized it was the red model instead of blue. Like it even fucking mattered.

It was Sunday night too. Not like Eddie had anywhere else he needed or wanted to be.

“And if I go to Sam Goody, they’re gonna say the same thing?” He asked.

“You could go down there and ask, but I’ll bet you that it’s gonna be marked up at least 15% more.”

If he left now, the gate would get closed right behind him. The sale wasn’t worth it.

“Hmmmm, fine,” the man harrumphed and began pulling out his wallet. “And throw in a couple tapes too, I guess. I don’t know what Michael likes; whatever you think is popular. You're the expert here, not me.”

As soon as the guy had paid and was walking out of the store, Eddie pulled down the gate and grumbled under his breath "what a fuckin' dickhead, can't make a decision to save his life or even be bothered to know what his son actually wants for his birthday."

Kyle's barking laughter echoed across the store from where he was doing markdowns.

"I can definitely hear you from over here kid," he chuckled. "You've gotta chill.”

"Sorry man," Eddie sighed as he approached the registers to start the closing tasks. "I'm just...I dunno, in a bad mood I guess."

"Well, you're doing a good job, people just suck sometimes."

The first time Kyle told him what a good job he was doing, Eddie nearly confessed that he was channeling Kurt Russel in Used Cars and rolled a D20 for persuasion before each shift.

Whether or not the D20 roll actually worked, Eddie still had some of the best sales numbers on the team. They’d nearly doubled their sales goal today alone. Because despite the entire town seemingly having it in for him, no one seemed to mind that he was the one helping them find whatever it was that they needed.

"Stop thinking about it so much," Kyle laughed. "You just keep making those sales, we keep beating our numbers, and your bonus check's gonna be enough for the last payment on that Warlock you've been drooling over since you started. Doesn't that cheer you up a little?"

Eddie hummed dismissively as approached the cash wrap to start closing procedures, and glared at the stack of handmade fliers for Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night shows at the Hideout, sitting neatly on the electronics display case next to all of the special order catalogs.

Yeah that was the dream.

A stage-worthy guitar and an actual stage and crowd to go along with it.

But it was gonna be forever to get there at the pace he was going.

When he’d gotten home on Friday night and told Wayne about the rejection letter, his uncle clapped him on the shoulder and said “good things come to those who wait.” Of course, Eddie was grateful for whatever advice his uncle gave him. He was just…tired of waiting.

And he'd have to wait even longer, because tonight it didn't even feel like they were going to be able to leave the store at all, let alone on time.

Nothing was going right--or so it seemed thanks to Eddie's mood. And it just seemed to get worse as time wore on. He couldn't get the registers to balance, he kept fucking up the combination to the safe when he went to put the deposit away, the mixtape he put into the shop radio earlier in the evening had jammed, and it took both him and Kyle combined to jimmy it out of the player.

They ran into a problem with every single closing task.

And before long, you were outside of the store waiting, when he had typically made it his habit to wait for you.

It was just...one of those things that Eddie liked to do.

He could imagine he was picking you up for a real date. Watch you as you finished up your own closing tasks, enjoy the little things you probably didn't even realize you did--bob your head along to whatever residual music was playing in the mall, fiddle with your earrings with one hand as you signed deposit slips with the other.

The way you lit up when you saw him outside of the gate--gave him a bright smile and held your fingers up to say how much longer it would be--was one of the highlights of his week, after gigs at the Hideout and crushing the guys dreams during Hellfire.

He could have really used that tonight.

Instead, you were out there waiting as Eddie continued to fuck things up. You smiled and waved as you usually did when you first arrived, leaning on the little coin-operated horse right outside the store. Thanks to his frustration, he couldn't bring himself to smile back. He glanced outside every now and again, and felt his stomach lurch whenever he saw you kicking your feet or picking your nails. Bored. Annoyed. Sick of waiting for him, probably, if the lack of an expression was anything to go by.

He debated simply telling you to leave. That your night out was canceled and you could reschedule another time.

But if you agreed...you might get pissed off for wasting your time and avoid him whenever you saw him from that point forward.

How did this happen? How was it just 48 hours ago that he was coming up with a plan to ask you out? And now he might never talk to you again?

Because he was a loser, he wasn't worth the trouble, that's wh--

"Alright Ed, let's go," Kyle clapped a hand on his shoulder and Eddie jumped.

"What?" he stared at Kyle for a second.

"What do you mean what? It's time to go," Kyle explained.

"But the checklist," Eddie frowned, mentally tallying all the tasks they hadn't gotten to. "It's not done."

"You wanna stay and clean the bathroom? Mop the floors? I can just have Paulie do it in the morning," Kyle grabbed him by the shoulder and led him to the door. "Let's fucking go. There's a whole pan of lasagna waiting for me at home, and your girlfriend is out there waiting for you. Unless you want me to take her out instead?"

Eddie fumbled over his words as Kyle pushed him outside and locked the gate.

"Try to have a good night tonight; someone's got a crab up his ass," Kyle warned you with a wink before heading towards the exit.

You pushed yourself off the play horse and approached Eddie with a frown.

"Hey if you're not up to going out tonight, we don't have to," you offered.

Here it was, the first steps of rejection.

"Yeah, no," Eddie coughed weakly. "If you don't want to go out, that's cool."

He'd heard it all before.

"God you're such a loser."

"Who would ever want to hang out with a freak like you."

"You think I'd actually be into you?"

"It's not about me, I'm asking about you," you smiled gently. "I don't know if you had a bad customer or something. That always gets me in a mood."

Eddie scratched the back of his neck for a second and fumbled over his words. You weren’t turning him away. No you had to be letting him down easily...right? That had to be it.

Eddie…he’d just been burned too many times by so-called friends at even smaller inconveniences. It was hard not to expect the same from everyone else he let into his life.

Except that really wasn’t the way you did things was it? How many times has he expected one thing from you and you'd surprised him with another?

You weren't tricking him or out to get him or waiting for him to mess up. You were accepting him as he was and offering him whatever care or friendship he needed.

"Yeah," he finally scoffed, playing along. "This...this guy who came in right before we closed. Couldn't decide what he wanted. Wasted time walking around. Real piece of shit."

"Well fuck that guy then," you frowned, then paused. "You sure you're up for going out? Even if you don't want to be out and about, we can go back to my place and...I could cook something? Wouldn't be pizza like I promised, but I pretty much subsist solely on pasta if I'm not grabbing takeout or going out with you. You can just hang out, listen to music or something, it’s not a big deal.”

It sounded like the best night ever. Getting to see your space, adding another layer of trust to your friendship, giving you shit about your cooking just like you did with his dinner choices…but…

Eddie knew you had scheduled yourself to open on the 4th so you could see Corroded Coffin’s set. Of course this had all been planned before he knew they weren’t going to play. And he knew he would have to break the news sooner rather than later.

But...just like with the guys...he didn't want to let you down. You, who had your entire life together, who he was lucky gave him the time of day. If you got too comfortable listening to music, you might be reminded and you would ask him about it, and when you found out...

So he would keep you in the dark. For now at least. And then come that night when you met him at the Fair Grounds he could just tell you there was a mix up and you could just enjoy the fair and eat carnival food until you puked instead.

"As tempting an offer as that is, you'd be missing out on your first Benny's experience," Eddie forced an enthusiastic laugh. "Uncomfortable booths, shitty atmosphere. But you haven't really lived in Hawkins unless you've had a patty melt handmade by Benny himself."

"Surely not the famous Benny."

"The one and only. I can only semi-promise he won't scratch his back with his spatula, but he will blend a piece of apple pie into your milkshake if you ask nicely. It's the Munson Special."

Your eyes sparkled before you looked down at your feet for a moment, and Eddie vibrated restlessly, nerves getting the best of him once he wasn't being observed by you. You then looked up at him with your lips twisted to control a smile and you nodded.

What a relief...

---

It was an undeniable fact that Benny's was the heart of Hawkins, and Benny himself the soul.

He was a severe-looking man at first glance--wide-shouldered with a wild beard and furrowed brows--but he always had a laugh and a story to tell. He went out of his way to learn everyone's name and make them feel welcome and would already be prepping the grill for one of his regular's orders as soon as he saw their car pull into the parking lot.

And Eddie, by the grace of his mother's previous employment at the diner, was one of Benny's favorites. He told you as much and warned you of his "celebrity status" on the drive there.

"He's gonna be very loud, but he's really funny. And he might grill you about what sports teams you like, so he might give you some shit if you don't have one. Actually, are you a big sports fan? Oh, and he might grab me by the collar and shake me around a little, but it's ok...that's just his thing. He's been doing it since I was a kid after the one time I ate all the mints in the jar by the register."

"Eddie, don't worry it'll be ok," you laughed and shifted in the passenger's seat to get a better glimpse of him. "Oh my god, are you blushing?"

"What, no," he scoffed.

Yes, he most definitely was. And he could feel himself get hotter as you continued to watch him.

"It's ok, family can be embarrassing sometimes," you shrugged. "At least it's just funny embarrassing and not painful embarrassing."

Eddie swallowed nervously and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

Yeah this would be like meeting someone from his family, wouldn't it.

He was so caught up in his nerves and self-pity, he really hadn't thought of it that way.

"Unless Benny has some baby pictures of you on the wall something," you continued with a conspiratorial grin.

Fortunately, no baby pictures; unfortunately there was a picture on the wall near the old jukebox of a 9-year old Eddie with Benny and Rick, standing next to some massive fish they caught out on Lover's Lake. Whether to emphasize how big the fish was or how short Eddie was, he couldn't recall. All he knew was that he was missing a few baby teeth and his knees were all scabby from one fantastical adventure in the woods or another.

But you didn't need to know about that.

The diner was, thankfully, busy by the time you guys arrived, so you were spared Benny's theatrics short of a "how's it going kid" shouted from the kitchen and a bunch of muffled greetings from some of the regulars who were around when Eddie's mom was still alive. You did, however, get to meet Lynn, the blue-haired waitress that probably worked at Benny's longer than Benny had even owned the place. She was a crank and incredibly opinionated and always let Eddie's mom, then eventually Wayne and Rick, know all of the ways they were failing at raising him.

Now that Eddie was grown, she simply let him know every time she had a problem with him.

But Eddie was shocked at how swiftly you navigated the interaction with her, dodging all of the tricks and traps that typically set Eddie up for some kind of insult or life lesson.

Lynn simply took your orders--patty melts and fries with the promised apple pie shakes, "oh and extra whipped cream please"--hummed judgmentally and stalked off to top off various coffee cups. She didn't even say anything about the lack of vegetables on Eddie's plate when the food was finally ready, like she usually did when he came in for late night bites with the guys.

"How the fuck did you do that?" Eddie leaned across the table conspiratorially. "She's had it out for me for years."

"Old people love me," you explained. "I've driven my papa to enough doctor's appointments and sat through enough of his stories that I have...what did you call it? In your game? A bluff?"

"Buff," he corrected with a nod.

"Grandchild buff," you agreed and he laughed.

"Repel the Elderly," Eddie puffed out his chest and adopted his DMing voice. "A level 4 spell. No damage taken from anyone over the age of 65. But it only lasts 2 rounds. Let's hope the Harpy doesn't come back otherwise I'll need you to make a constitution saving throw. If you roll below a 10, she deals double poison damage; you might not survive."

You threw a fry at him and stuck out your tongue, then asked him to tell you more about Dungeons and Dragons. Everything was normal for a little while as you ate and talked.

Until Benny came to check on his patrons. He typically made the rounds every hour or two, stopping at tables and saying hello. The two of you were laughing at some joke Eddie made by the time Benny got to your booth.

"Hey, kid," Benny leaned his hip against the booth with his arms folded across his chest. "Long time no see; heard you got a real life, grown up job."

"Hey Ben, yeah. At the mall. Been more than a month now. I'm guessing Rick's been by?"

"You know how it goes: holiday weekend coming up, he pulls an all nighter getting supplies from his guy up in Milwaukee. Then he gets the waffle platter with extra bacon and we talk about all the town gossip."

"Nice to know I'm still gossip-worthy."

"You know how proud he is of you. This, uh...a coworker or something? You gonna introduce me or no?" Benny changed the subject and gave Eddie a knowing look. You, however, swooped in to introduce yourself as Eddie shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

He hadn't exactly told Wayne or Rick about you yet. Just that he had some new friends who worked at the mall too. It wasn't the same as talking to the guys. How many times had he had a crush over the years and came home excited about someone only to get his hopes obliterated. How many pep talks had he endured? Now, thanks to Benny's big mouth and Rick's unending need for gossip, they'd know he had taken a pretty girl to the diner.

He could truly only hope that there wouldn't be another pep talk associated with you.

"...ok Chicago," Benny sniffed as your short conversation came to an end. "You're alright. Backing the wrong football team...but still alright. Nice to meet you.”

He then turned back to Eddie.

"I need to get back to the kitchen but Rick told me about the 4th of July thing.” Eddie froze and his mouth went dry. "I'm sorry to hear about it. If you and the guys want, you can do a show here that night instead. Lot of families stop by for ice cream and pie and such.

"Maybe not that real heavy stuff you're into, but I know you boys know how to play some of the classics off the old jukebox. We could set you up in the parking lot. Phil's got some folding tables from the tree lot."

"Yeah thanks," Eddie nodded. "That sounds great. I'll bring it up to the guys when we have practice tomorrow."

"Just let me know so we can make sure you have everything you need." He turned his attention back to you. "Again, it's nice to meet ya'. Don't let Eddie scare you off, he's a big old teddy bear."

"Ben!" Eddie groaned and put his face in his hands.

"Oh he won't; I'm definitely scarier than he is," you cackled. "Nice to meet you too Benny."

Once he was gone, Lynn swooped in with the check. You immediately made to grab for it before Eddie could dare, but Lynn stopped you.

"No need honey; Edward already paid," she hummed. "As a gentleman should; seems Wayne taught you something right."

"It's always nice to see you too Lynn."

The older woman rolled her eyes and shuffled away.

You waited until she was gone before you turned your attention back to Eddie, gritted your teeth, balled the check up and threw it at him.

"Stop doing that! When did you even--"

"When you went to the bathroom," Eddie grinned triumphantly.

"You are a menace and you must be stopped!" You threw your hands in the air as you pushed yourself out of the booth to leave. "I'll get you back one day, I swear to God."

Eddie clasped both hands to his chest and gasped dramatically.

"No, please," he exclaimed. "No holy oaths in front of a lowly devil worshiper like me. I can feel the bullshit burning through me."

"Shut up, I hate you." You laughed. "Just let me pay for dinner next time."

“No, I let you pay for pizza," Eddie argued.

"You let me pay for a pizza. One. And you didn't let me do anything, I had to jump out of the van before you could. I don’t even think you had parked it yet."

“This is slander! I object.” Eddie put his hands on your shoulders, leveling you with the most stern expression he could muster. “I also let you buy cannolis.”

“Alright Perry Mason,” you rolled your eyes at him and swatted his hands off your shoulders. “You win this time.”

“Excuse me but Perry Mason always wins!"

---

You finally brought it up on the way to Lover's Lake.

It hadn't been Eddie's intention to always end your Sunday nights out at the lake, it just...happened. Pizza that first night, then Chinese food the following week when you lost track of time sitting in the employee parking lot debating which Indiana Jones film was better, Raiders or Temple of Doom. (It was Raiders. Obviously.)

Tonight, the plan had been to make s'mores on the fire pit in Rick's backyard. He had suggested it after he'd spotted a sandwich board outside of Scoops Ahoy advertising their knew Gimme S'mores flavor. He'd subtly asked you later if you had ever made s'mores before, and then gave you shit for your absolute throwaway answer.

"Like...yeah, in the microwave."

"The micr--are you shitting me right now?!"

"I'm sorry, there wasn't really an opportunity to start a bonfire in my fully paved backyard."

"Did you even have a childhood? No s'mores, no pudding, no sugar cereal? NO QUISP!"

So Eddie had gone to Bradleys and gotten marshmallows and chocolate and a variety of cookies. The plan, if you were ok with it, was going to be to smoke for a little bit--he'd dreamed of a s'more made with chocolate chip cookies when he had gotten high the other night and was very much looking forward to it--and enjoy the sweetness of both the s'mores and your company.

Instead, it had all shattered around him as he turned onto Cornwallis.

"So..." you began hesitantly, tapping your hands on your lap.

"So...?" Eddie asked, glancing over at you. You leaned forward a little, eyebrows raised expectantly. "What?"

"Benny's offer...for the 4th..."

"What about it?"

"You guys should do it!" you exclaimed. "That sounds like a really fun time."

You went on about the intimate venue and the regulars who already seemed to know Eddie and the guys, if what you had just seen at the diner was any indicator. The more you spoke, the more irritated Eddie seemed to get.

Not irritated...with you. No, just uncomfortable in his own skin. Uncomfortable with the fact that his failure was being perceived.

He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, his hands fidgeted on the steering wheel, his chest hurt. The van seemed to be getting smaller and hotter, the seat more uncomfortable, the longer you spoke.

By the time you finished, he barely felt like himself.

"No," he coughed. "No, I don't think the guys would be up for something like that."

"Why not?" you questioned. "You were getting ready to play at the fair right? What makes this different?"

"It just is," Eddie shrugged.

"I mean I get it's not a stage but--"

"You're not even gonna ask why we aren't playing at the fair?" Eddie cut in, attention fully taken off the road as he stared at you expectantly.

Because...because yeah you were nice, but it didn't make any sense that you were just...going along with whatever you heard. Why were you so quick to try and get him to accept this pity offer from Benny. Why weren't you throwing it in his face that plans had changed and his dreams were shattered.

"Ok. Why aren't you playing at the fair?" you asked and Eddie scoffed. "I'm not trying to be passive aggressive or anything, you just seem irritated that I didn't ask first. So now I am asking."

"Does it matter?" Eddie shrugged.

"Yes, because you're upset."

"I'm not upset."

"Eddie, please," you sighed. "Even Kyle said something was bothering you. I'm not trying to stir the pot and if you want me to drop it, I will. You just...when you talk about your music and the band you're always so excited. I want to understand why you don't want to take this opportunity."

"Because it's a reminder that I'm a failure!" Eddie shouted, hands coming off the steering wheel as he held them up beside his head. "Sur-fucking-prise! I can't seem to do anything right and that's usually fine, but yeah, you're right, this was one of the only things that really mattered to me and the guys. And I couldn't even get that right.

"Benny isn't asking if we wanted to play because he likes our music, because he thinks we're any good. No, it's because he feels bad that we can't play at the Fair. Because I chose what I thought was a really fucking cool set list and they turned us down. Because I fucked up and he wants to cheer me up."

"What's so bad about that? What's so bad about people who care about you wanting to take care of you?" you asked.

"Because it isn't care; it's pity!" He argued. "It's always pity of one kind of another, right? Pity that my mom died, pity that I live in a trailer park, pity that I have this dream that's gonna get me nowhere, pity that I can't even pass senior year after two freaking tries. What's the point anymore? I'm tired."

The van rumbled along, but it was silent otherwise. Eddie couldn't look at you after his outburst so he wrung his hands around the steering wheel.

Fuck. He really did it this time.

Eddie knew, he knew you were gonna ask and he was gonna try to avoid it and he was going to disappoint you. But he didn't know...

Eddie didn't like getting angry or really showing those kinds of emotions. It was different if he snapped at the guys to reel them in, or snark at stupid kids at school. It was harmless, no actual malice behind it. There were just some times...where he felt it all get too overwhelming inside of him and he didn't want to...

He didn't want to be like his dad.

It's why he liked smoking. And why he liked smoking. He wouldn't say he was someone with a lot of sharp edges to begin with, but they helped smooth out whatever rough burrs that came from the every day were left over on his soul after a tough week.

If only he had made it to Lover's Lake before you asked.

He had made the next turn back onto the highway when you spoke.

"Do you think I'm hanging out with you because I pity you?" you broke the silence with a small voice, and when he looked over, you were playing with your fingers and gnawing at your bottom lip. You didn't look scared or upset, really. That was a bit of a relief. But...

"No, I didn't mean..." Eddie paused for a second, because actually...he didn't think you were hanging out with him out of pity. But he was just waiting for the moment you realized it wasn't worth hanging out with him anymore because he was pitiful.

So maybe it was just worth it to end this whole thing now and save himself some unexpected disappointment. Just like it had been with everyone else who suddenly dropped him like a hot potato.

"I mean yeah," he shrugged. "Look at you. And then look at me. We don't exactly make sense."

"Make what sense?"

"You're like...you have everything figured out, you have your whole life together, you're like...on top of the world. Got your promotion to Store Manager, your apartment, everything. Meanwhile--"

"Eddie."

"--I can't even finish high school, my band can't play a bigger crowd than the Hideout, I'm pretty sure I...accidentally sold my soul or something because Kyle hired me and I'm actually doing a good job? But where am I gonna be in 5 years, in 10? Probably still right where I am. I've literally screwed up everything I've ever put my mind to. It doesn't make sense."

"When things don't work out for us, when we're disappointed, yeah it does feel like nothing makes sense," you sighed. "But that's why you need to let the people around you who want to help you, actually help you.

"It's not a bad thing to accept he--Why are we back at the mall?" You suddenly asked as he pulled onto the Mall drive and headed towards the employee lot.

"Well I figure the night is over, I would take you back to your car," he shrugged weakly.

You opened your mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and nodded.

Yeah, that's what he thought.

He still got out of the van and opened the door for you when he parked next to your car, he offered you some chocolate to take home if you wanted, and he even kissed your hand before you got in the car to leave.

"See you around sweetheart," he said softly through your open window.

"See you Eddie, have a good night please," you offered a small smile. "Please...be good to yourself ok?"

He tucked his hands into his pockets and watched you drive away before he got back into the van.

Be good to himself.

Weird, but that definitely sounded better the "fuck you" he usually got when people disappeared from his life.

---

Except you didn't disappear from his life. You lived in the same town, worked at the same mall, for crying out loud; you still parked your car kind of close to his when he came in for the rest of his shifts that week. You didn't eat lunch together like you'd gotten used to doing...but he would still catch glimpses of you as you passed each other on break.

It was almost...back to how it was before he had gotten the nerve to go and talk to you that first time. You would smile and wave and he would look away. Neither of you said anything to one another, but you weren't hostile and neither was Eddie.

The 4th of July arrived and Eddie had to work. He had originally traded shifts with someone so he could do a short mid instead of a close and he'd forgotten to switch it back. But that meant he caught you leaving Tape World at the end of, what should have been, your 15 minute break.

"What was she doing here?" Eddie asked Kyle, who was surprisingly decked out in as much flag gear as he could get his hands on.

"Who? Oh your girlfriend?" Kyle pushed his star-shaped sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as he filed some receipts away. The grin on his face was obnoxious.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Uh huh. Sure. Well, her shop radio broke again and she forgot her tapes again," Kyle shrugged. "What else is new? Hey maybe if I send you up there on official Tape World Business, you two can make up and you can stop being such a fuckin' grump."

Eddie ignored him.

That night, there was no concert at Benny's but he and the guys did end up going to the fair and eating funnel cake until they puked.

They actually had a good time; they had even watched the musical lineup for a little while. Whatever the clerk at the Park Department had chosen wasn't nearly as good as Corroded Coffin would have been. And that knowledge, paired with Gareth's heckling and Jeff's booing, kind of made him feel a little better.

The following Sunday passed by without your usual date night. Eddie still passed by your store on the way out to the employee lot. You didn't look at him or wave this time, you were at the register going over something with, what looked to be, a new hire. You laughed and his chest hurt a little.

Eddie knew how much those little dates, how much those lunches and breaks spent together, really brightened up his week. But it wasn't until he didn't have them anymore that he realized just how strong of a foothold you had in his life in such a short amount of time.

He really should never have pushed you away like he had.

He had fucked up.

He missed you.

---

"Hey Ed, once you clock in can you check the shipment in?" Kyle asked as soon as Eddie crossed through the doors to start his shift the following Wednesday.

"Yeah, great," Eddie sighed. “No problem.”

It wasn’t that he hated checking the shipment in….it’s just that there were about a million other parts of working at Tape World that he liked better. Talking to customers, choosing what would play on the store radio for the duration of his shift…shit, even counting down the registers at night. But this was tedious. Busy work.

It was an endless stack of boxes and he needed to make sure what was inside matched the packing slip. Thousands of little tapes. Great.

"There's some special orders back there too, if you can give the customers a call!" Kyle hollered after Eddie as he slipped into the stock room. Sure enough, there were a few larger boxes propped up by the little break area.

Now that was something Eddie enjoyed a little more. He'd call the customers--usually some desk jockey who got themselves something to get through their mid-life crisis, or a parent getting some dream gift that their kid would forget about come next month--and tell them their special order had just arrived. Then typically, they would drop into the store that day or the next day and he would get to help them unpack and test out their brand new guitar.

Aside from selling the sparkling new guitars from one of the many catalogs at the counter, this was the best part of his job. And knowing he would get to do it immediately brought his mood up.

Eddie himself had been waiting for the day where a package would be there for him. On his first day, as they were setting up the store before the mall had even opened, he had unpacked the box of catalogs and found a doozy of guitar that he had his eye on: A BC Rich Warlock. And he had been putting money towards it with every paycheck. Tape World had a plan, just like the holiday layaway at K-Mart, and combined with his employee discount...he was almost there.

He dreamt about it as he grabbed a box and pulled the packing slip from where it was attached on the side of the box.

Maybe in the next few weeks? Next month? He'd come back here and the label would say...

Edward Munson/Tape World/1 StarCourt Drive/Unit F3

Eddie blinked.

Yeah. That's what it would say.

Wait. Was he still high from after last night's show? When they'd made a very late McDonalds run and smoked in Gareth's garage?

Edward Munson/Tape World/1 StarCourt Drive

He blinked again. Nope, still the same.

Edward Munson

"Well?" Eddie jumped at the sound of Kyle's voice by the stockroom door. He had his arms crossed and he had the biggest grin on his face. "You gonna open it or what?"

"What the fuck man? Where did this come from?" Eddie questioned.

"I would assume wherever BC Rich makes their guitars? California, I don't know. I work here, remember dingus?"

"No I mean," Eddie fumbled over his words. "I hadn't made the last payment, where did it...did you..."

"Look at the packing slip man," Kyle gestured. "The order form."

Eddie quickly flipped to the Tape World order form stapled to the packing slip. There were lines of his signatures, and the amount of money he had put down with each payment...and then at the very bottom...

A very intricate signature. Yours. And the last hundred dollar payment, marked in red pen.

No. You didn't. You couldn't have. When did you even?

"I told you she was your girlfriend," Kyle cackled. "I fuckin' told you."

--

Kyle had been gracious enough to let Eddie take an early lunch so he could find you...confront you...kiss you...Eddie wasn't sure yet.

You opened on Wednesdays so right about now you would be taking the cardboard out to the loading dock and then taking your last break. He knew because, if not for the fact that he hadn't talked to you in over a week, he would be right there with you.

Still you jumped in surprise when he burst onto the loading dock, the heavy dock door slamming into the brick wall, just as you were hitting the button on the baler.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie," you put your neon pink, fishnet glove-clad hand on your chest. "Gave me a heart attack."

"Why did you do it?" Eddie asked.

"Do what?"

"This," he pulled the order form from his back pocket and crossed the short distance to show you. He tapped on your signature several times. "Why would you do this for me?"

Your mouth formed a soft "oh" and you sighed.

"Because you're my friend," you explained as if it was obvious. "Because you've been really down and you needed cheering up."

"This isn't just...cheering a friend up. It's too much."

"It really isn't," you shook your head.

"It's a hundred dollars!"

"I have savings," you continued.

"And you have, like...rent and bills and stuff."

"So do you...you said you've been helping your uncle with rent and bills and stuff," you said in a way that mocked him. He gritted his teeth.

"I was gonna use my sales bonus for the final payment."

"Well I'm due for mine coming up too."

"I'm paying you back!" Eddie insisted.

"No you aren't. I wanted to do this for you so I did it."

"If you felt sorry for me or--"

"I just wanted to cheer you up Eddie!" You exclaimed, slamming your hands on the baler button again in finality, as if crushing the already-crushed cardboard was somehow going to drive your point home. "I don't feel sorry for you. I don't pity you. You're my friend and you were really down, disappointed.

"Tell me yes or no? Were you on the verge of giving up? Yes or no, right now."

Eddie froze.

No he wouldn't. Except...hadn't he? There was no 4th of July Fair, which meant there also wasn't a show at Benny's. Their last set at the Hideout wasn't...well he wasn't as good as he could have been. As good as he usually was.

Maybe he had...given up on himself a little. Let the self pity get the best of him.

"No," was the answer he gave you though.

Your eyes hardened and narrowed in challenge. You placed your hands on your hips and stood toe to toe with him and although he was the taller one between the two of you, it certainly felt like you were a giantess towering over him, complete with layers of fishnet and rayon and tulle fluttering in the slight breeze off the loading dock.

"Maybe you didn't hear yourself in the van after Benny's but I did," you began. "You felt like everyone pitied you, that no one was your friend or on your side. You were alone, and in place of real pain and disappointment, and you said you were tired. What is the point of trying anymore, you're tired. You said that, Eddie. You did.

"And I've been there, ok? I'm not that much older than you but I kind of am in a different stage of my life. So I'm sorry if I've ever made it seem like things are easy for me...I'm sure in some aspects they are, but in others...yeah I've been there. It's hard not to compare yourself to others when you're down, but also, you can't just...push people away or think that they're taking pity on you when they're just trying to help.

"And I know it's hard to get over that little hurdle of feeling like everything is a trick or a trap and accept nice things from other people, so excuse me if I took the initiative to do it without your permission. Because when I was at a place of giving up and not wanting help or advice, someone did that for me. So I'm doing it for you now. And I would do it again in a heartbeat."

Eddie stared directly into your eyes as he processed everything. Back and forth, left and right, as your heavy breathing went back to normal.

"Because, if you fail to remember, you have been doing nice things for me these past few weeks, and you really haven't let me return the favor quite yet, so if you don't want to accept that I'm just doing something nice for a friend, then accept that I'm paying you back for all the nice things you've done for me."

He swallowed and looked down at his feet for a moment.

"It was just...some pizzas and snacks--"

"And chili cheese fries, and surprise sodas on the days we don't have our breaks at the same time, and that movie ticket, and dinner at Benny's, and all the gas you've used to drive us around when at this point I can probably navigate town by myself," you finished for him.

Eddie did a mental tally and yeah, you were right. He did do all of those things, and no, he hadn't and probably still wouldn't let you return the favor if you gave him the chance to be your friend again.

"I know friendship isn't supposed to be transactional, but the scale has been tipped immensely towards you, so instead of just sitting back and watching you feel like a failure and give up on your dream because some stupid...I don't know, festival...person has no taste in music, I wanted to do something to surprise you. To cheer you up."

"Why haven't you talked to me then?" he asked.

"What do you mean? You haven't been talking to me," you laughed. "I've been waving and saying hello...you dropped me off at my car that night and then...you haven't even looked at me since. So I figured you just needed the space. I get that too; needing some time, some space."

"I guess I thought you didn't want anything to do with me anymore," Eddie replied lamely. Because yeah, you had been doing those things. Maybe...maybe you were right, maybe he did need the space too. God, you were such a know it all. "I'm here now."

"Yeah I see that," you deadpanned. "Hi."

"Hi," Eddie parroted. "Thank you. For the surprise. I really...really was...surprised."

"Of course, any time," you nodded. "How are you feeling? Any better?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Just like you said, I needed some time to work it out. Spent some time with the guys, it cheered me up."

"Good."

"You missed out on all the carnival food. Made the guys ride the tilt a whirl...Gareth's puke was purple."

"Yeah," you scrunched your nose. "I really missed out."

"There's always next year."

"Great." You offered him a small smile. "We good?"

"Yeah. You still want to hang out with me on Sunday? I, uh, really missed you."

"I missed you too. Maybe...you can give me a private show this Sunday? With your shiny new guitar? Only if you're up for it, of course."

"Absolutely. Sundays with you are my..." Eddie hesitated.

Should he say it? Would it scare you away?

Before he could finish, you put your hand on his arm and squeezed.

"They're mine too."

---

Next Part: Interview Prep

Sales Associates (AKA the tag list): @gaysludge @storiesbyrhi @tayhar811 @spookybabey @word-wytch @maidenofartemis @dreamlandcreations @wickedbelle @blue-eyed-lion @aysheashea @blue-mossbird @abibliophobiaa @jabbatheslutt420 @ghost-proofbaby @bakugouswh0r3 @ghostinthebackofyourhead

If you weren't given any hours this week (aka if you aren't already tagged or if I forgot to tag you) let me know via ask or comment. I'm sure I can find some extra payroll.

[writingforstraykids]

Hii, can you write something Minchan x reader where Minho gets out of an abusive relationship and ends up at Chan's/your place? 🥺

A/N: Hey there, this started as a short drabble before I edited it and turned this into a fic. I hope this is what you wanted and you like it. Thank you for the request💕🥰

Second Chance

Word Count: 4725

Summary: Chan and you help Minho the night he gets out of his abusive relationship. Due to your shared past Minho seems anxious to intrude. A year later things seem to be going well until a situation escalates and triggers a panic attack.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, tw!physical abuse, tw!emotional abuse, tw!panic attack, bruises, emotional hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, poly!skz

You hum softly against your boyfriend's lips, indulging the warmth of his body against yours. You feel calm and loved here with him in the safety of your home. Smiling, you brush back his curls and nudge his nose with yours. "Come on now, you promised Min that dinner ages ago." 

"Didn't I tell you? He texted me half an hour ago that he can't make it tonight," Chan says and kisses you lovingly. "That means I have time for you tonight, baby." 

You frown softly as Chan starts kissing down your neck. "You think he's okay?" 

"He didn't say anything else," Chan mumbles against your skin. 

"Yeah, but-," you start and stop as he pulls back with a groan. 

"Please, I don't want to think about our ex when I'm kissing you," he tells you. 

"You mean our best friend, dummy," you giggle and Chan laughs, giving in. "I'm just worried. It isn't like him to cancel plans last minute without a reason." 

"I don't know, maybe his boyfriend had plans?" he asks and you huff softly. "I know you don't like that guy, but-." 

"You've seen the bruises, Channie, something's off," you say firmly, thinking of the last time Minho visited. He looked tired, sad even, and there had been a heavy bruise on his wrist that looked like someone grabbed him too hard. Chan asked him about it of course, but dropped it at how defensive Minho became. 

"Listen, doll, he'll let us know if something's off," Chan says. 

"Not when it's what I think it is," you shake your head. "What if he's being manipulated into thinking it's his fault? Or if he's too embarrassed to tell you? You know how hard it is for him to open up and-." 

"Fucks sake," he climbs off the bed and searches for his phone. "I'm sure he's…," he starts and his face falls looking at his screen. 

"Please don't tell me I was right," you whisper. 

"I'm…Minho called. Ten times in the last twenty minutes," he says worriedly. 

"Shit, you think they got into a fight?" you ask shocked. 

"I don't know," he says and quickly puts on his sneakers, searching for his keys. His phone goes off, loudly this time as Chan had unmuted it. "Minho, what's wrong?" he asks worriedly and puts him on speaker. 

"Chan, hyung, can I stay at yours? Just for tonight," Minho says shakily, glancing across his shoulder as he walks down the street to your apartment. "I'm so sorry about this but it's kind of an emergency," he rambles on. 

"Yeah, sure, do you need me to pick you up?" he asks worriedly. 

"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea," Minho shakes his head and quickens his steps as someone walks down the street behind him, getting closer. "I'll be there in a minute anyways." 

"You're driving here?" Chan asks. 

"No," Minho swallows. "Don't know where my drivers license is. Or my keys. You know me, I tend to misplace my stuff," he laughs it off, almost choking on it. 

Chan exchanges a meaningful glance with you. Minho did not misplace his stuff often. "Okay, just ring the bell when you're here, Y/N will buzz you in," he says. 

"Chan," Minho bursts out panicked, closing his eyes for a second to remind himself to stay calm. "Please don't hang up yet," he pleads and looks back once more realizing the guy behind him is his boyfriend. "Fuck, no," he whispers. 

"What's wrong?" Chan asks, eyes widening as Minho doesn't answer before yelping in pain. Chan drops his phone and races off, leaving your front door open. 

You grab Chan's phone and rush to the door, waiting there anxiously. "Min?" you ask worriedly and only hear something crash to the ground, suspecting it was his phone. 

Minho winces in pain as his boyfriend grabs his hair forcefully and tries to get away from him. "Please, stop," he begs, hot tears already filling his eyes again and spilling down his cheeks. 

"Who the fuck allowed you to leave, huh? You have nowhere to go, you need me to function because you're too dumb to do it on your own," he shouts at him and punches him into the stomach. "Why the fuck would you run off?" 

He groans surprised, fresh tears shooting into his eyes. "Please, I'm so sorry," he begs. Minho bends over in pain but doesn't get far due to the harsh tug at his hair. He chokes on his sobs and braces himself for the next hit. 

"Let go of him!" Chan snaps as soon as he reaches them. 

"Channie," Minho whimpers in fear, wincing as his boyfriend grabs his chin forcefully. 

"Seriously? You're still not over him?" he asks darkly and Minho's eyes flicker anxiously. "Out of everyone you call him. I knew you'd cheat on me." 

"I didn't-," Minho starts weakly and flinches heavily when Chan's suddenly next to him, one hand on his lower back. 

"I won't say it again, let go of him," Chan says firmly. 

"I won't do shit," he tells him sharply. "This is my boyfriend, Chan, back off." 

"Alright then," Chan says and with a swift move he punches him right into the face, delivering another forceful hit into his stomach. 

Minho backs away as soon as his hold on him lessens and hides behind Chan, anxiously grabbing the hem of Chan's shirt. "Chan," he whispers. "Chan, we should leave." 

"Get inside, I'll be there in a minute," Chan tells him. 

"Channie he has a knife," Minho begs him through tears. 

Chan reaches back for him and takes his hand, eyeing the man in front of him. "Minho, run," he says and pulls him with him. Chan pulls the front door closed behind them and follows Minho, who's already stumbling up the stairs to your apartment. 

Your eyes widen as you see him rushing up the stairs, tears streaming down his face. "Minho," you say shocked as he gets closer and you notice how hard he's shaking. 

Chan reaches the door only seconds later and gently shoves Minho inside. "Come on, let's get inside and close that door." 

Minho doesn't get far, sliding down against a wall in your hallway as soon as the door's closed. He pulls his legs to his chest, whimpering as he rocks himself, trying to calm down. Heavy sobs shake his body as he tries to hold them back and his breathing quickens. 

You subconsciously grab Chan's hand, too shocked to move for a moment as you watch him breaking down. That's a very rare side of Minho. You squint your eyes as Minho messily wipes his cheeks and you can see the bruised skin beneath the makeup he put on to hide them. Your heart sinks to your stomach as you take a few steps forward and crouch down in front of him, keeping your distance. "Minnie?" you ask softly and after the third time he snaps out of his state and stares at you with wide eyes. "Minnie, what happened?" you ask gently, barely noticing Chan sitting on the floor next to you. 

"Please don't tell anyone," he presses out, glancing from you to Chan. "You can't," he whimpers. 

"Don't tell anyone what?" Chan asks calmly. He knows what he saw out there but did Minho? 

"That we had a fight. No one can know," he says desperately. 

"Why?" Chan asks patiently and fear flickers in Minho's eyes. "What happens if someone knows?" 

Minho shakes his head rapidly, backing further away against the wall. "Please don't."

"What?" Chan asks and reaches out for him, placing his hand on his knee. 

Minho whimpers in fear, flinching heavily, and pushes himself up. "This was a mistake," he says and stumbles toward your door. "Sorry for bothering you two." 

"No, Min, you're not bothering us," you try to get up but Chan holds you back, reading the situation better than you. 

"Kitten?" he asks and Minho stops in his tracks at that old term of endearment. "Please stay? You're safe here, we don't have to talk about it today, I promise." 

Minho hugs himself and glances at the door, torn between his options. "I-uhm-I don't know if…," he trails off meeting your worried eyes. 

"It's okay, you can stay," you assure him gently. "We have all the time you need."

"It's fine, I'll just go back home," he chokes on the last word, his eyes betraying him. 

"I don't think that's a good idea," Chan tells him gently. 

"Listen, Chan, just because things with you were different doesn't mean it's all bad," Minho grows defensive. 

"Different? You mean because I didn't hit you in the middle of the street?" he asks and you contort your face, unsure of how Minho would take that. "Come on, you know better than that. You don't deserve to be treated this way." 

"Yes, I do," Minho whispers. "I deserve every little bit of it because it's my own fault I gave up on something good. I gave up on you."

"Sometimes things don't work the way we want them to…but you didn't give up on us. And we won't give up on you now," Chan says firmly. 

Minho's face falls in a sob as he gives in. "Channie," he whimpers and Chan gets up slowly. 

"Can I give you a hug?" he asks caringly and Minho nods anxiously. "Okay, deep breaths," he says as he steps closer and Minho subconsciously takes a step back. "I'm here, it's okay," he promises softly, holding his hand out for him. "It's Channie, remember?" he asks soothingly and Minho nods, seeming as if he has to process that information first. Chan very gently places his hands on Minho's shoulders first before fondling down his arms. "Easy there," he whispers and takes another step forward, carefully wrapping his arms around him. "That's okay, kitten?" 

Minho nods weakly and buries his face in his shoulder, hugging him back hesitantly. "I can't breathe," he whispers, clutching his shirt as he feels the panic still boiling deep inside of him. 

"Y/N, come here," Chan tells you, still keeping his volume down. "Is it okay if Y/N hugs you too?" he asks, soothingly rubbing his back. "You need to feel some kind of weight or pressure to calm down right?" 

Minho bites back a sob, hearing that Chan still remembers that. "Yeah," he answers shakily and sucks in a sharp breath. 

You follow Chan's instructions, stepping behind Minho and hugging him as well. You and Chan trap him between your bodies and hug him tightly. "Okay, Minnie, now breathe in deep through your nose…and out through the mouth. Deep breaths," you tell him, guiding him through it. You have witnessed him panicking once before after their video shoot high up on that helicopter landing platform. It feels like ages ago. 

Minho grows calmer in your hold after a while, his breathing calms and his body stops shaking. Instead he's shivering with exhaustion and the adrenaline leaving his body. "I promise I'll be gone tomorrow," he tells you quietly. 

"We'll talk about that tomorrow. One step at a time, okay?" Chan says soothingly and exchanges a worried look with you. "Let's go and sit down?" 

"That sounds like a good idea," you nod, gently nudging Minho forward into your apartment. You don't have to tell him the directions, this has been his home before after all. You go to grab some warm blankets and Chan takes his laptop and headphones from the sofa to make some room. Minho stands still in the middle of your living room, anxiously fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater. "Chan, why don't you go and help Min put on some comfy clothes?" 

Chan turns to look at you and glancing at Minho makes him realize your intention. "Sure, come on," he says and carefully takes his hand pulling him with him. Minho follows him until they reach your bedroom and he comes to a sudden stop. "Min?" he asks. 

"I-uh-I'm sorry," he shakes his head, following him inside. The amount of memories crashing down on him steals his breath for a moment. It's still the same bed, curtains and even the pictures of his cats are still on your desk in the corner. He remembers the many intimate moments he spent here with both you and Chan, the many nights and lazy mornings. "It's too much," he whispers. 

Chan closes the closet and tilts his head at him. "What is?" 

"This here," he says, vaguely waving through the room. "I can't go back to his place, because that's not home. This isn't either because it was before I fucked it all up. I have nowhere to go and-," tears brim his eyes all over again and he huffs at himself in utter frustration. "God, I'm so stupid." 

Chan sits down at the edge of the bed and pats the space next to him. "Come here," he says and after a moment of hesitation he does. "I know you're going through shit right now, your feelings are all over the place and you're scared and confused. But you're not alone, you don't have to be." 

Minho chews on his lower lip and stares down as Chan carefully takes his hand again. "He was right."

"About what?" he asks calmly. 

"I am still in love with the two of you. I do think about what I lost here a lot…but I never told him that," he confesses quietly. "I was so scared that things wouldn't work out or our fans wouldn't accept us the way we were that I freaked out, destroying the thing I was so scared of losing." 

Chan swallows softly and fondles his knuckles as he listens. "How long has this been going on?" 

"What? The screaming? The hitting? The hairpulling?" Minho asks sarcastically before exhaling loudly. "A month into the relationship." 

"A-Minho that's been five months," Chan exclaims in shock. 

"I know," he nods and stares into the distance. "I felt like I deserved it. He encouraged that and I got stuck in this shitty cycle of wanting to be useful for that person you fear but strangely still love." 

"What did he do?" Chan asks and a shadow travels over Minho's face. 

"Not tonight," he shakes his head and gives him a sad smile. "If that's okay." 

"Okay, yeah, of course," Chan nods quickly. "You don't have to say anything but…we love you too. And we miss you, we miss your dumb jokes and sassy comments. We miss your adorable laugh and Y/N misses you every time she has to glam up all on her own. So, we think about you a lot as well. What I'm trying to say is that if you'd ever feel ready, we're there. If not, we'll always be your friends and this means you can stay with us for as long as you want to, no matter what you choose. It's your choice, okay?"

"Okay," he whispers and drops his head, burying his face in his shoulder. 

"But that's also not something to discuss tonight," Chan says, planting a tiny kiss on his hair. "Just wanted you to know you're always welcome here." 

Minho squeezes his hand tightly. "Thank you." 

Chan stays there with him for another while, mindlessly rubbing his knuckles and whispering soothing nonsense to him from time to time. He doesn't know how long they stay there like this but it seems to help Minho's body calm down. You come to look for them after a while, your expression softening seeing them. 

You sit down at Minho's other side and gently pat his thigh. "Hey there, doing a little better?" 

He hums gently and blindly reaches out for your hand, squeezing it as he finds it. "I love you, you know that right?" he asks and you're too stunned to answer for a second. 

"I-uh-yeah, I guess I do," you stammer and Chan flashes you a compassionate smile. 

Minho pulls away from Chan's shoulder and turns to look at. "I know I fucked up, Y/N, even if you say I didn't. I didn't hurt you on purpose." 

"I know," you say quietly. 

"I just…I was scared," Minho says and lets go of Chan's and your hands. "And now I'm back here and I've never been more scared in my life before," he admits shakily and rubs his thighs, trying to steady himself. 

"He can't hurt you here, I promise," you try to soothe him. 

"I'm scared of what that shit did to me," he shakes his head. "I'm scared of him. I'm scared to lose you because I'll be a burden now…and it fucking terrifies me that I'm so open and honest about my feelings right now," he adds at the end making you all laugh. 

"That means you're making progress," you say and a weak smile tugs at the corners of his lips. 

"We can work this all out together…and if there are things we can't deal with we'll find someone who can," Chan adds and Minho nods thankfully. 

"I want you to keep that up and be very clear about your boundaries with us, okay?" you ask. "We don't want to trigger anything or make you feel uncomfortable." 

"I can try," Minho promises bravely. 

"And don't hesitate asking us if you need anything," Chan continues. 

"I will," he nods. 

You pull him into a hug and bury your face in his hair, tears brimming your eyes as he hugs you back tightly. "We got you, Minnie." 

One year later 

Chan paces your shared apartment, phone clutched in his hand, as he tries to stay calm. You can tell he has trouble doing so, noticing the way his hands shake, his chest heaves with irregular breaths, and the worry clouding his usually soft brown eyes. Your boyfriend checks the time once again, a low groan slipping from his lips as he realizes only five minutes have passed since he last checked. 

“Channie,” you say very gently, and he stops, staring at you with wide eyes. “Come here, sit down for a minute.”

“Can’t,” he shakes his head and continues the reckless pace from before.

“I’m sure he’s alright,” you say, trying to convince yourself at the same time. 

“You don’t know that,” he shakes his head firmly. “What if that asshole met him somewhere and-” his voice breaks, and he quickly shuts his mouth again. 

“Chan,” you say firmly. “We can’t keep on expecting the worst. Nothing has happened in a year. Min’s an adult, he can do what he wants. If he decides to stay away for a whole day, then that’s his choice.”

“He’s not thinking straight at the moment, you know that. Now that he's been with us for a whole year everything comes up again. He’s emotional; he keeps on seeking our help, trying not to bother us, and I need to keep him safe, I-” he breaks off again as he meets your eyes.

“Stop making what happened to him your fault,” you tell him. “I know he means a lot to you, I know you want to keep him safe, but stop blaming yourself for what his ex did.”

“He called me Y/N. Repeatedly. I was busy making out with you as this asshole hurt him,” he says, getting more emotional with every passing minute. “And still, he came here as soon as he could.”

You have enough and slip off your chair, making your way over to him. “That’s because he trusts you…and sometimes you have to trust him too,” you say and offer him a hug. 

Chan pulls you into his arms and buries his face in your hair. He can feel your heart racing against his chest and snorts. “So much to staying calm.”

“It’s not that I’m not worried myself, Channie,” you remind him calmly. 

You still remember the night one year ago as if it was yesterday. Not a night has passed since then without him joining the two of you in your bed at night, first as your friend, then in search for the love he thought he lost. Time healed the bruises, the split lip but not the scars left on his heart, and the fear that was still deep in his bones. By now you were finding your routine as a throuple but there was still a lot to figure out. So, of course, Chan gets worried when Minho doesn’t show up for a whole day and doesn’t answer his phone.

The front door to your apartment opens, and you look up surprised as Minho strolls in calmly, two bags in his hand, keys in the other. He frowns softly as he spots the two of you and tilts his head at you, meeting your eyes. "You're okay?" 

Chan lets go of you, and you can tell his worries get replaced by anger, which is also a very familiar part of him worrying to you. “Where the fuck have you been?” he asks firmly.

“What?” Minho asks confused, flinching at the harsh tone.

“I tried calling you for like a hundred times, Min. I’ve been worried sick all day about you!” Chan goes on, letting his anger flow freely now. 

"Chan," you try gently. 

Minho’s stomach turns painfully as the common fear of what is about to unfold takes hold of him. He puts down the bags shakily, bracing himself for all the hurtful words that would leave his hyung's mouth at any second. He deserves every one of them. "I-I turned off my phone," he says quietly. 

"You can't be serious," Chan snaps, and you glance at him worriedly. "I told you always to keep that damn thing close so I can find you when something happens." 

"I-I'm sorry, hyung," Minho says shakily, staring at the floor in front of him. "I know that was stupid. I'm stupid."

"You're not stupid, Min," you chime in gently, but the younger male shakes his head firmly. 

"I am," he presses out, body shaking in fear as he feels put back into a situation he thought he escaped. 

"I told you so often," Chan insists tiredly, voice growing more gentle. "How could you forget that?" 

"I'm sorry," he whimpers, tears shooting to his eyes and spilling right down his cheeks. "I-I should've told you. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," he starts, sounding a little panicked. "I'm so stupid, I'm sorry I worried you. Please don't punish me." 

Chan's whole demeanor changes at that sudden breakdown, face falling. "Fuck," he breathes out, realizing how triggering this must've been. "Minho, no one is going to punish you," he says gently, making his way over, not knowing that being soft was exactly what Minho got before the snap. 

Minho subconsciously takes a step back, shivering. "Please, I'll do better, I promise," he tries to save himself. Stumbling back blindly, he trips over Chan's backpack and falls backward, hitting his head at the front door as he crashes onto the ground. 

"Shit," you breathe out shocked. 

By the time Chan reaches him to help him up, he's sobbing, curling up on the floor and protecting his head. "Min, hey, hey, it's okay," Chan tries, crouching down. The moment he touches him, Minho screams in fear, making him flinch back. 

"Please," he sobs, making himself even smaller. 

Chan looks back at you, eyes filling with tears and practically screaming for help. He backs away quietly from Minho as you make your way over. 

You crouch down next to him and hesitantly place your hand on his lower back. "Minnie," you say soothingly, knowing no one else but Chan and you called him that. "Minnie, angel, you're safe. I'm here, no one can hurt you, okay?" Your voice breaks through the fog of panic, and Minho scrambles onto his knees, lunging forward and holding onto you tightly. You hold onto him just as tight, soothingly running your hand through his hair. "Shh, it's okay," you whisper and rock him in your arms. "It's okay, you're safe." 

Minho sobs into your sweater, holding onto you for dear life. He tries focusing on your scent, how your hair feels beneath his fingertips, and how your body is warm against his. He tries pushing all the dark memories aside, reminding himself that he is, in fact, safe. Safe in your warm embrace. 

You glance over at Chan, who watches you, still standing in the same spot. The guilt in his eyes is overwhelming, and he doesn't bother wiping away the tears running down his cheeks. You hold out your hand for him, but he shakes his head weakly. "Channie babe, come here," you say soothingly. "Chan was just worried, he didn't mean to upset you, dear," you say toward Minho, and the younger one nods bravely. "Come on," you encourage your boyfriend.

Chan slowly makes his way over, shaking as he sits beside you. "Minnie, I'm so sorry," he presses out, hesitantly rubbing his back.

Minho pulls back and looks at him through teary eyes. "Something's wrong with me," he whispers, and Chan searches his eyes confused. "You'd never hurt me." 

Chan firmly shakes his head. "Never," he promises. "I'm sorry I got mad." 

Minho straddles his lap, burying his face in Chan's shoulder. He wraps his arms around his neck and sniffles softly. "No, I'm sorry for disappearing," he says shakily. 

Chan hugs him tight, burying his face in his hair and closing his eyes. He gently runs his hand over his back before fondling his head. "Does it still hurt?" he asks, and Minho shakes his head. 

You watch them with a gentle smile, knowing how much they mean to each other. Minho pulls back after a while, pressing their foreheads together with a weak laugh. "I'm sorry, Channie love, I know I worried you." 

"Stop that now," he says gently, rubbing his sides soothingly. "I know you didn't mean to." 

"Thank you for always trying to keep me safe," he tells him, cupping his face. 

"Of course," your boyfriend whispers. 

Minho wraps him back into his arms and closes his eyes for a moment before speaking up. "I just wanted to take a walk this morning, but then he bombarded me with messages, having another fake account. I got upset, turned my phone off, and kept on walking around aimlessly for hours. I completely forgot the time." 

"That's okay, Min, it happens," you assure him, sitting down next to them. 

Minho flashes you a weak smile and squeezes your hand gently. "I should've told you guys. I wasn't thinking." 

"Happens," Chan nods and soothingly rubs his thighs. 

Minho meets his eyes again and remains silent for a while, sinking deeper into that warm feeling of comfort and safety. "I actually bought dinner on the way back." 

You giggle softly and pat his shoulder. "That's sweet." 

"And uhm…I saw something that seemed fitting for the two of you," he says, ears burning up a little as he climbs off Chan's lap. Minho grabs the smaller bag and takes out two small boxes, handing the longer one to you. 

Chan opens his and takes out a beautiful silver bracelet with a small pendant in the middle. There's a heart-shaped hole in the pendant, and opening your box, you know why: the heart's attached to a necklace. "Oh my God, that's so cute," you beam at him. Chan helps you put it on, and Minho watches you with a soft smile. "Where's yours?" you ask and Minho frowns softly. 

"I-uhm…I shouldn't-," he shakes his head, swallowing softly at your confused expressions. 

"Kitten, you're a part of us," Chan says softly and Minho's eyes brim with tears again. 

"But-," he starts out weakly. 

"We love you. This is your home, angel," you tell him and smile as Chan caresses his cheek and Minho instinctively leans into it. 

"We'll go back there tomorrow and find something fitting for you," Chan suggests. 

A hot tear falls down Minho's cheek as he watches the two of you amazed. "Okay," he whispers and closes his eyes as Chan plants a soft kiss on his hair. He giggles softly as you kiss the tip of his nose and smiles at the two of you through his tears. "I love you two so much." 

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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@soullostinspaceandtime @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @aaasia111 @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @galaxycatdrawz

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 2, Episode 1

Season 2 picks up after the Christmas break, it is now early January 2021, and Wilhelm is asleep, dreaming of Simon...

Cinematography: The show does a slow transition from Wilhelm's sex dream by changing the colours from the soft golden light of his dream, to the harsh early January daylight, and by letting the sound of a vacuum cleaner pierce the signature [dreamy electronic music] of his dream.

Subtext: We're seeing Wilhelm move like a ghost through the palace, ignoring everyone, even his mother. He's still angry with her, and they haven't really talked all break.

Blink and you miss it: It's hard to make out, but Erik's silver cigarette case is also inscribed with Sällskapet - The Society, the ultra-douche nobility club.

Cinematography: Just like last season was bookended by a fourth wall break, here comes the opening montage and a very angry Wilhelm staring into the camera.

Subtext: The August montage tells us a bunch of things. He's been spending Christmas break alone at school since he doesn't really have a family to spend it with, and his eating disorder/body dysmorphia sure isn't getting better.

Culture: Simon is playing the song Aldrig Igen by Cherrie, which is about leaving someone who has hurt you. The repeating refrain goes: "Never gonna happen again. I don't want to feel like that."

Culture: Minimum age for getting your driver's license in Sweden is 18. It's getting more and more rare for people to get their driver's license as soon as possible, because it's simply not a necessity for most. When I went to high school last century (in the 90's), about half the class got theirs at that time. These days less than a third get theirs that early.

Subtext: Although Felice didn't really have a plot of her own this season, I'm glad to see that she learned something last season and keeps ignoring her annoying, prattling, mom. That her friend Sara got into the Manor House is much more important than whatever horsey-horse blah her mom is whining about.

Subtext: Madison hands Sara a crystal, of course she's into that. But I'm not crunchy enough to figure out what the hell she means by "among other things". Help. Anyone? What is that even? Amethyst?

Subtext: "Native Americans and other indigenous peoples have burned sage for centuries as part of a spiritual ritual to cleanse a person or space, and to promote healing and wisdom." Thank you Google for that explanation. And of course it's something Madison would do.

Lost in translation: The English translation of their chanting didn't quite capture everything. A literal translation would be "Fine girls, deep pockets, worship our fine pussies!" But fina flickor is an expression that means well-mannered upper-class girls, djupa fickor is a Swedish idiom that means being rich, and these two fragments both rhymes with and alliterates with fina fittor, except the latter is extremely vulgar, which creates an interesting juxtaposition of contrasting tone. Btw, my high school Swedish teacher was the best teacher I've ever had, and I know he would be so fucking proud of me right now if he could see me writing this! Tack, Magnus.

Subtext: And here comes the first mention of this season's main theme; traditions, upholding them, breaking them, examining them... Interestingly enough it's Felice who suggests breaking it, while all the other girls insist that Sara has to continue the tradition. And boy, does she ever. At least the fire department didn't show up...

Subtext: The real reason August didn't join Vincent or Nils on their expensive Christmas vacation to the Seychelles is of course that he can't afford it. But his dismissive joke also just point to his own eating disorder problems. August, get help.

Subtext: When Simon insta-stalks Marcus we get to see a bit of his personality. Apparently, Marcus likes camping, fishing, hiking, horses, and his Volvo. The 850 is a classic 90's station wagon, and although it's pretty unusual for 18-year-olds to own a car in Sweden, something like that checks out and it's probably his car.

Subtext: Vincent is such an ass, and I love every second of it. He has zero respect for the younger students, he doesn't give a shit that Wilhelm is royal.

Subtext: Wilhelm is being an assertive bitch to August here and insists on him addressing him in third person, as if they weren't familiar...

Blink and you miss it: ...which makes Nils and Vincent laugh, and Vincent makes a mocking salute to Wilhelm.

Subtext: But in the end, August is the prefect, so they do as he says and allow the first-years to join the party, even though they have no idea why August is letting Wilhelm get away with it.

Cinematography: This season also does a lot of mirroring where scenes in this season look like scenes in the first season. This particular one mirrors the one where Simon appears at the initiation party for Wilhelm and catches his eye, except it's a lot more sad this time.

Subtext: Oh look, The Theme™ pops up again, and Simon is of course not a fan of keeping the shitty traditions that forced Sara to do something stupid, so that he had to rush to school to check up on her.

Subtext: Wilhelm is an awkward idiot around Simon. He really has no idea how to reconnect with him.

Cinematography: Again, we're mirroring the initiation party in s1 where Simon excuses himself, but this time Wilhelm doesn't chase after him.

Subtext: I'm sorry what now? Nils is not straight? That came out of fucking nowhere, but ok, let's roll with it! Also, whoever subtitled this is obviously familiar with Tinder, but not with Grindr. Nils says that he saw Marcus on Grindr, not that they matched, because that's not how Grindr works.

Subtext: The main theme of the entire show is about social class, if you haven't figured this out by now. Nils is firmly in team upper-class, and tells Wilhelm how he's supposed to handle dating: Only date or hook up with people from your own class, or with people who know how to keep everything discreet, private, and down-low.

Subtext: Wilhelm looks around in confusion, because he expected Simon to be singing in the choir. Where the hell is Simon?

Subtext: Meanwhile, Simon is late and on the bus with his friends on Team Rebound, who are giving him advice that's gonna turn out to be pretty crap.

Culture: Padel is so middle class, Vincent is right! Padel surged in popularity in Sweden in 2021 for some weird reason, and tons of padel courts popped up all over the country. However, the hype completely crashed in 2022, so most of those places are now facing bankruptcy and people actually talk about padeldöden - padel death, so the sport is kind of a joke right now.

Subtext: Wilhelm puts on the most fake smile ever and says hi to Alexander who is back at school. They were all correct when they said that Alexander really wouldn't get punished for getting caught with the drugs, his parents simply bribed the school to hush it down, but their treatment of Alexander will backfire spectacularly on Wilhelm later in the season.

Subtext: The show is doing a bit of exposition here, but it's also reminding us of who knows what about the sex tape, and why Wilhelm hasn't told Simon that he knows who did it. One more thing that will backfire spectacularly.

Subtext: And in a quick throwaway comment we learn that the late prince Erik had a thing with a porn model, and that the royal court successfully swept that whole thing under the carpet, as they do.

Subtext: The rest of the girls thoughtlessly let Sara pick up the tab for their coffee, which is nothing to them, but for Sara it's half her savings. She's treating them without protest, but doesn't buy anything for herself because she simply can't afford it.

Subtext: Don't sit next to him, don't talk to him, pretend he doesn't exist! Simon is really trying to follow the advice of his friends.

Cinematography: Oh look, a mirroring of the scary movie scene where they touch hands in season 1. Except this time Simon jerks his hand away.

Subtext: The Theme! This time it's Wilhelm who's on team fuck the traditions, although he's doing it just to undermine August.

Lost in translation: Vincent actually uses the word kladdiga - sticky, smudgy - about their hands, which in Swedish implies they're all toddlers who should sit down and shut up while the adults are talking.

Subtext: No, Wilhelm really didn't stick up for anyone last season, he threw Alexander under the bus, and he threw Simon under the bus, so we're just heaping on the guilt now.

Subtext: And we're doing some more exposition to remind everyone about who knows what about the sex tape. Here Sara finds out that August knows that Wilhelm knows it was him, and he's blaming her for telling him, even though she hasn't told anyone. Not even Simon, speaking about things that will backfire spectacularly.

Subtext: Sara's plotline is gaining steam, much like she did after touching August, if you know what I mean, eh, eh, eh? She knows he's a piece of shit, she knows he's a bad person that she can't trust, but she also thinks he's hot as fuck and this obviously causes quite a lot of conflicting emotions in her.

Subtext: No, Wilhelm truly doesn't realize this. He's been trying to get close to Simon in order to get him back, but he still hasn't got a damn clue as to why Simon is keeping his distance.

Subtext: Note that Simon going after Marcus is 100% reactive. He asked him for a ride because he needed to for Sara's sake. And now he's agreeing to karaoke night because Wilhelm just hurt him again, and because his friends have been encouraging him to go for a rebound boyfriend.

Culture: Carola Häggkvist is a very well known Swedish artist and songwriter who had her breakthrough at 17 in the 1983 Eurovision Song Contest with the song Marcus is choosing. She only came in third that time, but won the ESC in 1991 with the song Fångad av en Stormvind. Despite being wacko Christian for a while and married to Norwegian preacher Runar Søgaard, who lost his weapons license after shooting a deer from his bedroom window, she has now mended her ways and is somewhat of a gay icon in Sweden, performing at Stockholm Pride in 2013.

Culture: Främling is about meeting a stranger, falling in love, and taking a chance on this newfound love. Marcus might look like a doofus, but his song choice is pretty clever, although obvious.

Subtext: Can we just appreciate Vincent's dramatics for a second? A first-year not moving their ass off a couch he wants to sit in is apparently causing his entire world to come crashing down. The audacity! Chaos! The system is there for a reason! It provides stability! What's next? Everyone is just gonna sit around playing the bongos? Someone needs to enforce the proper order of things, because August apparently refuses to do so!

Subtext: Some nice foreshadowing here where Alexander checkmates Wilhelm.

Culture: The Swedish Royal Court is an organisation with hundreds of employees who assist the royal family in all their official duties. Here we're seeing the Queen having a late night meeting with some court officials. Although the show doesn't say, it's likely that Minou who was introduced in season 1 is the head of the press and information department, and that the new character Jan-Olof is the Marshal of the Court, which would put him in charge of planning and preparing all official events that the royal family attends.

Subtext: From the perspective of the Queen and the court, Wilhelm's outburst comes out of nowhere. He's been refusing to talk to his mother for weeks, and now he suddenly calls them up, rants about Simon being on a date with another boy, and screams that he doesn't want to become king in the future. In addition, he threatens to talk to the press himself, which makes Minou somewhat concerned to put it lightly.

[a-legacy-not-to-be-forgotten]

Undertale Yellow Car Headcanons 2

People liked the first one, so I figured I'd go do a few more to cover some folks I missed and add some extras for ones I already covered. Kudos to a friend on Discord who's a massive car nut and suggested quite a few of these. First one in case you haven't seen it. This one's a bit chonkier, so grab a snack or something.

Martlet: Electric Bike

Even if Martlet getting her hands on a driver's license is nigh impossible, we figured she should at least have something, even if she doesn't use it that much. Electric bikes seem to fit her style. Dunno if she'd use it often, but if the surface has no-fly laws or whatever, it'd probably help her out some.

Toriel: 2CV

...okay, Tori isn't really a UTY-exclusive character, but she has a minor role in the game, so does she count? Anyway, my friend had the idea of her using what they described as 'everybody's favorite little wine snail' and I think it fits her too well.

Chujin: Loud Ass 90s Tuner Car

If Chujin didn't inject raw Mountain Dew Voltage into his soul and survived to see the surface, he'd probably drive something like this. It ties in with the whole Ben 10 thing and it's a great way to express himself, as obnoxious as it may be. Usually, Ceroba makes him drive the family sedan.

Ceroba: If She Owned the Hummer (Semi-Joke one)

I meant for it as a shitpost, but we thought up an idea if she actually did own the car. Don't worry, she always looks before merging. Anyway, we figured she got it mainly because it's pretty cool. However, it is a massive waste of gas money, so she only uses it for camping or driving Kanako and Clover around on their birthdays. Otherwise, it mainly collects dust in her garage while she uses the more fuel-efficient sedan.

El Bailador: Lowrider

Kudos to @cheddarchandelure for suggesting this and it couldn't fit any better. Lowriders fit him like a glove. You know he just has this thing modded like crazy. It's nearly 20 feet of car, too. You don't get much more expressive than that.

Feisty Five: GMC Vandura

I gave the Feisty Five individual vehicles, but they also kinda need a car for the whole gang and what better vehicle for a group of crime fighting dinguses. Perfect for missions, lassons, or just hanging out as a group together. Starlo technically owns it, but usually Moray or Ace drive the thing.

Ace: Antique Mercedes

Okay, I know I technically already did Ace in the first part, but my friend suggested an Antique Mercedes, which I think fits a lot better than the Porche. I'll let you guys draw your own conclusions, tho.

Moray: SLK Roadster

Still a convertible, but I didn't like the image I used in the last one. So now we got a specific model for our favorite fish with no gender.

Mooch: Pretty Much Anything, but here's a Corolla

On the chance that Mooch somehow gets her license back, she'd be willing to drive whatever. Hopefully more responsibly this time around.

Dina: 5th Gen Mustang

My friend suggested that a classier style of muscle car would fit better than the more aggressive model I used in the first, and I think it suits her more laid-back nature well.

Blackjack: Antique Flatbed

It's been in his family for generations, and he's way too attached to the thing to get rid of it. Generally, he just fixes up anything that breaks down on him.

Starlo's Family: Uh...Trucks

The main workhorses for the Sunnyside Farm. Sure, they got a few dents and aren't the cleanest or most advanced, but hey, they get the job done. Mainly driven by Solomon and Orion, occasionally Starlo. The Cabover (bottom) is generally used for the big harvests and the pickup works for everything else.

Mo: C4 Corvette

The perfect car for a sleazy businessman! Well, not sleazy, but you get what I mean. He likes to act stylish with his choice of car, but his is constantly breaking down mechanically, since he doesn't really bother fixing the thing, just detailing it. Doesn't leave the best impressions for shoppers.

Honeydew Shopkeeper: Figaro

Why? Well, simple, it's small and cute, just like she is! Not much else to say beyond that.

Kanako: '70 Dodge Challenger

Kanako's still a bit too young to drive, but we settled on this for a dream car of hers, with both a road and track package. She got the idea from both the racing games she plays and Dina's own muscle car. Nobody understands why, But she really wants to visit San Francisco with it

Clover: Ford Galaxie Convertible

Figured we should do Clover's dream car as well. Not much a reasoning, we thought this just fit their style. Once they come of age, you know darn well they'll be racing Kanako.

Warned ya that would be a big one! Anyway, lemme know what y'all think!

[polyquestria]

Hey everyone, long time no ponies

so yeah, it's been a minute, huh? Just had the thought of looking up how many minutes are in four years, but we don't want to deal with that many numbers, right?

A lot has happened since Feb of 2020. Not just in the world, but for myself personally. When y'all last saw me, I was still half in the closet, severely underweight and feeling all round shitty. However, in my hiatus, I've really been working on myself. I started HRT in May that year and have proudly been on it for close to four years now! Not only that, but in June last year, I had top surgery that went very well and I couldn't be happier with the results and the support I've received from my irl community. I adopted a cat, I got my drivers license, been seeing a dietitian to help improve my eating habits, upped my anxiety meds, started taking meds for my ADHD and all that work has been paying great dividends in my mental health. Which leads me to what I'm about to say.

Polyquestria is back!

At least for now. With Ponydoodles, the other mlp request blog I'm apart of, really picking up again, it's inspired me to dust off this old blog and revamp it. Which means it now has new features. The main one being this: I am now open to more than just romantic/queerplatonic pairings! What does that mean, you ask? Well, you can now request two or more characters with any dynamic. Some examples are: Platonic (Friendships that can be canon or ones that you think would be fun!), Familial (Again, canon or your own headcanon (Adding on that the type of family doesn't matter either; biological, adoptive, foster, found, whatever!)), Mentor/Student, maybe even characters you think would be rivals! Just make sure it all falls in line with the new and updated rules, the link to which can be found in the description that I implore you to read before requesting.

I'll also be posting my own ship art, pairings that I think could work, friendships that would be really fun and familial headcanons that would just be really neat, in my own opinion! I'll try not to lean too heavily into either requests or my own jargon; we're just vibing here

Going back to the rule link, underneath it on my blog, you will find a link to my new mod page, featuring my new mod name: Mod Major Mitchell. It will also be featuring my new sona, a kirin/griffon hybrid named Chook. Go check it out to learn a little more about me and also gain access to my linktr.ee, the hub for everything me online.

Alright, I think that's about it for now. Feel free to ask any more questions in my askbox and, hey, maybe while you're there, leave a request or two.

[nyctoheart]

Okay... I'm definitely not ready to say anything about this elsewhere so what u read here stays here PLEEEAAAAASE 🙏😭 I'll split it into sections so its easier to digest LOL

Okay, I finally admit it aloud:

Reading orion's reply to this post about me having "I turned my hobby into a task"-itis really struck me. I've felt it to be true for about a year now but kept it inside...

When writing my super doc in April, I thought "I can't wait until I never think about Daybreak Town again." And the idea of me restarting all over with KHML if it gets overly-complicated too... ugh

So I think in a year at the earliest, I'm going to try leaving the KH community. I will keep this beloved blog and still play future KH titles, but I want to focus on my real life. I want a career, but I'm 26 and have made no strides towards it at all. I want my driver's license and an onsite job! I don't want my life to revolve around sitting at my computer anymore.

what this means for my projects:

But I can't stop now since I'd let down people I made promises to. I said I would release all of X-position as videos, and I literally just started a new podcast with my friend Hannah like 2 weeks ago... Both projects I said yes to while still thinking about how burnt out on KH I am... What is wrong with me!

the podcast: I double-checked to see that Hannah doesn't follow me here because I really I don't want to hurt her, I love her and don't want to let her down. I want the podcast to continue at least a year before breaking this to her. I counted our topics up to DDD, and that already gives us 50+ topics, plenty for a weekly release. Plus, I do like the idea of helping new KH fans learn without being spoiled, it's why I said yes to begin with!

as for my youtube channel, I'll make an announcement after X-Position is entirely out. I will give my Patreon a heads up beforehand, so they can decide to keep supporting until the end or not, but I will close it entirely when the channel ends. I planned other videos outside of KHUX, but they'll have to be good-ol'-fashion text analyses here.

And as for my webcomic, this hurts too because I LOVED writing it! I want to finish the 7th chapter I started long ago, then release the entire story as text, and then finally release a certain chapter that I was really looking forward to illustrating.

leftover feelings:

It sucks too because my IRL friends are new KH fans, so they're all learning things I've known for years, making jokes I've heard for years. They think I'm still in it for the long haul, one of them just bought all of us matching seasalt icecream charms 😭 How do I break it to them that I want to move on from KH. I feel like a movie where a washed up gunman wants to retire LOL

I have journaled (and sometimes cried lol) about this almost daily for the past 2 weeks, but that comment orion made (with multiple seconding replies!) made me go ".... ok yeah I have to talk about this." It just feels SO cathartic seeing people say aloud what I have been feeling. It gives me the courage to continue until the end and not like... fake my death online LOL AAAAAA—

if this was 2019 I would have thought "yeah I'll just stop, people won't mind that much" because my philosophy was what I did online wasn't THAT important to people (tone I truly say this with: at peace, content, meditative). But ever since 2020, it feels like the internet is so important to people's values and focus, it's scarier to leave things!

[artyandink]

we could be more | dean winchester | 4

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

CHILDREN SHOULDN’T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : DRIVER’S LICENSE - OLIVIA RODRIGO

“Come on, Sam, I'm begging you. This is stupid.” Dean groaned as he drove the car.

”Why?” Sam asked.

”Going to visit Mom's grave? She doesn't even have a grave- there-there was no body left after the fire.” 

“She has a headstone.” 

“Yeah, put up by her uncle, a man we've never even met. So you wanna, go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on.” 

“It’s not about that.”

”Enlighten me then, Sam.” 

“It's not about a body, or, or, a casket. It's about her memory, okay?” 

“Mhmm.”

”And after Dad it ju-just feels like the right thing to do.”

“It's irrational, is what it is.”

”Look, man. No one asked you to come.”

”Why don't we swing by the roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven't heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that thing down.”

”That's a good idea, you should. Just drop me off, I'll hitch a ride, and I'll meet you there tomorrow.”

”How about we ask what Beanie wants to do?” Dean turned slightly. “Whatcha wanna do?”

”Go to the graveyard.” I replied. “Believe it or not, my family’s tombstone is nearby. The night my family died was spent in Lawrence.” 

“Well, then, you can pay your respects there.” Sam agreed.

We reached the graveyard, and I instantly started searching for our family plot. As soon as I found it, I sat at my dad’s grave, staring at the inscription of his name. 

“Hey, dad.” I whispered. “It’s been 7 years since I last saw you, and if I’m being honest, it’s eating me alive cause I need you with me. I found your book and I saw your notes on Sam and Dean, so I found them and they’re protecting me from the dreamwalker cause the devil came after me, but only took away my powers. It feels like I’ve let you down.” My voice started breaking uncontrollably. “You told me to take care of my family, but there’s no one left to protect, so what am I here for?” I felt a tear drop onto my Panic!At the Disco t-shirt. “Dean and Sam have their own problems to deal with, b-but they insist that I don’t intrude. It’s… c-confusing.” I paused. “And there’s another thing. Everyone expects me t-to live up to either yours or mom’s name, but it’s so hard to do. I doubt I can-”

”Beanie!” I heard, so I left some flowers at the grave and went over to Dean. 

“What?” 

“Does this mean anything to you?” He pointed to the ground. There was a ring of dead grass surrounding a tombstone, along with a wreath of dead flowers. I wiped a tear from my eye, then nodded. 

“It’s an odd ring of dead grass around a grave, it’s usually a sign of a troubled spirit or unholy ground.” 

“You hear that, Sam?” 

“Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide.” Sam suggested, so I bent down and touched the soil, bringing it up to my face. 

“Nope.” I shook my head. “If pesticide was still here, soil wouldn’t be dry. Excesses of it make the soil wet for a few hours after.” 

“Okay, so what are you thinking?” 

“Unholy ground.” 

“Un-“ Sam stopped, looking dumbfounded. 

“What? If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground.” Dean explained. “Remember the-the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?” 

“Yeah, b-“

”Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or the-the Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough.” Dean grimaced at Sam’s nod. “Well, don’t get too excited, you might pull something.” 

“It's just... stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?”

“So?” 

“So… are you sure this is about a hunt and not anything else?” 

“What else would it be about?” 

“Boys.” I sighed, going and getting a newspaper from a nearby stand.

“You believe what you want, Sam, but -- I let you drag my butt out here, the least we could do is check this out.” 

“Yeah. Fine.” Sam grumbled. 

“Her dad works as a professor at the university here.” I informed, looking up. 

“Dr. Mason?” Dean knocked on the door in the university, and Dr Mason opened it. 

“Yes?” He replied. 

“I'm Sam. This is Dean, and this is Ivy.” Sam introduced. “We were friends of Angela's. We... we wanted to offer our condolences.” 

“Please, come in.” We entered, and while Dean went to the shelves, Sam and I sat down. 

“She was beautiful.” Sam smiled, looking at a photo. 

“She was.” Dr Mason nodded sadly. I got up, going to the door. 

“I’m going to get some fresh air.” I excused, then shut the door behind me. I looked around at the bustling students, and I gulped, remembering my brief time at college before I dropped out. 

“You look lost.” I turned to see a dude who seemed to be six foot tall, making me feel small since I was 5’ 8”. He had dark brown hair, brown eyes and a smile that could probably blind me. He was dressed smartly, and glasses framed his eyes, giving him a geeky look. “Are you a student?” 

“God, no.” I chuckled. “I’m here visiting Dr Mason with my brothers. We were friends with Angela.” I held out my hand. “I’m Lily Carter.” 

“Nate, but the students call me Mr Coleman.” He shook my hand. “I’m sorry about Angela.” 

“So am I.” I smiled. “It’s hard, but I’m dealing.” 

“Your brothers are helping, huh?” 

“More than I think they are.” I nodded. “They’re going through things too, so they need my help as well.” 

“Sounds like a good thing.” He grinned, then looked like he was hesitant for something. “C-Can I get your number?” 

“Oh, sure.” I pulled out my phone and so did he, and I read out my number. When we were done, his cheeks were red, a goofy smile on his face. 

“Do you think we can-“ 

“Beanie?” Dean and Sam came out from the office, and found me. “C’mon, let’s go.” 

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” I asked. 

“Course I will.” He grinned. “It was great meeting you, Lily Carter.” 

“And you, Nate Coleman.” I replied, then walked off with the boys. 

“I never knew ‘a breath of fresh air’ meant ‘find a new man’.” Dean teased. 

“Dean, it wasn’t like that-“ 

“Don’t think that we didn’t see you staring at that dude like he was a cup of coffee.” Sam chuckled. “Just couldn’t resist him.” 

“I got his number, but-“ 

“Don’t think we’ve forgotten about Will.” Dean snorted. 

“Yeah, Will.” Sam laughed. “Speaking of Will, have you two been in contact since we left?” 

“Nope.” I replied. “Just another relationship on the go.” 

“We’ve had our fair share.” They both nudged me. 

“Speaking of which, where are we staying for tonight?” Dean asked. 

“I’ve got a safe house here.” I offered. 

“How many safe houses do you have?” 

I held up a set of keys. 

“Damn.”

The moment we had gotten into the Impala, Dean had been blabbing on about how we ‘found something’. Sam was forever sceptical, and I was trying to find a quiet moment so I could text Nate. 

“I'm telling you, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet.” Dean repeated as we closed the house door. 

“Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing.” Sam groaned. 

“Well, something turned that grave into unholy ground.”

”There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father.” 

“Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?” 

“You know what? We never should have bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore.”

“So what, Sam? What, we just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?” 

“I think I know what's going on here. It's the only reason I went along with you this far.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“This is about Mom’s grave.” 

“Oh, he just went there.” I whispered, breathing out. 

Dean scoffed. “That’s got nothing to do with it.” 

“You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it. Look. Maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad.” Sam persisted.

“I’m not taking this-“ They were interrupted by my keys jingling, and I put my leather jacket on, ignoring their faces as I fixed my crop top. 

“Where are you going?” Sam asked. 

“Thanks for realising that I’m still here.” I smiled falsely. “Now, if you excuse me, I’m heading to the bar, alone, to get a drink. You two have a copy of the keys if you want to do something similar.” I went out of the door, walking to the bar. 

I was busy drinking a whiskey at the bar, merely cause I was in the mood for something fancier than beer. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” The bartender asked, prepping a drink. 

“Yeah, I’m just getting away from my brothers. They might be wrestling at this point.” I replied with a scoff.

“I used to do that with my brothers. My mom said it should be professional.” He chuckled. “Anyway, I have something for you.” He gave me a Cosmopolitan, and I frowned. 

“I didn’t ask for this.” 

“But the gentleman across the bar did. Paid for it an’ all.” He pointed to… 

“Nate.” I half exhaled, half laughed as he walked up to me, sitting down on the bar stool beside me. 

“Lily.” Nate grinned. “I never thought I’d see you again, not after your… brothers… whisked you away.” 

“Why the emphasis?” I asked, sipping the Cosmo. 

“Because I never knew that Lily Carter could be the sister of Sam and Dean Winchester.” 

I choked on my drink. “You know?” 

“A lot of hunters know who those two are.” He nodded. “So your name isn’t really Lily Carter, is it?” 

“Nope.” I chuckled. “Ivonne Rainer.” 

“Michael Rainer’s daughter?” 

“You bet.” I smirked, then took out his ID, which I’d nifted from his pocket. “And your name isn’t Nate Coleman, is it, Xavier?” 

“You got me.” He grinned. “I’m actually Xavier Jackson.” 

“I never thought I’d see a hunter work undercover as a school teacher.” 

“I joined the day after Angela’s death.” Xavier explained. “Something was up, cause I’d seen her grave. I’ve never seen a more obvious mark of-“ 

“-unholy ground.” We finished together, then started laughing. I drank my Cosmo to stop laughing, but then he seemed hesitant to say something. 

“What’s up?” I asked. 

“The first time I saw you with Sam and Dean, I thought you and Dean were dating or you liked each other, and I was scared to text you-“

I started laughing again, wiping a tear of laughter from my eye. “No way, Dean and I are friends! He just calls me Beanie cause I wore one the first time we met.”

”Phew.” He pretended to wipe off sweat from his forehead, adjusting his glasses. “I-I thought I had some competition, to say the least.” 

“There’s nothing in your way, trust me.” I grinned. 

I woke up, squinting my eyes at the bright light of the sun and sighing. I giggled when an arm wrapped around my waist, somebody peppering kisses along my shoulder. 

“Last night was amazing.” Xavier whispered in my ear, and I turned around to face him. 

“Last night was a blur.” I joked. “Can you remind me what happened?” 

“Are you-“ 

“I’m kidding!” I laughed, cupping his cheek and rubbing my thumb against it softly. “Yeah, last night was… I don’t have words.” 

“Your phone is ringing, though.” He whispered, and I pulled the sheets over me as I reached over, seeing the caller ID. 

Sam. 

“Oh, damn.” I cursed, then picked it up. “Hey, Sam?” 

‘Ivy, thank god. You didn’t come home last night, where are you?’ 

“You know Nate, right? I met him at the bar, but I was a bit drunk and he took me to his house since it was nearer and neither of us brought cars.” 

‘You could’ve called either me or Dean.’ 

“And risk either of you ranting about how dumb the other person is? Hell no.” 

‘True- Dean, you’ll get your chance to talk- hey!’ 

‘Text me the address, Beanie, I’ll be there in five.’ 

“Fine.” I cut the call, texted Dean the address, then grabbed my clothes and quickly slipped into them. 

“Call me later, yeah?” Xavier asked while putting his shirt on. The moment it went on, I never could’ve guessed he was jacked. 

“Of course I will.” I kissed his cheek then his lips, but he kept me there by holding my hips. I pulled back, grinning. “Dean’s gonna give you the dad talk if he finds us kissing, even if he’s not my dad.” 

“Right.” He combed his hair while I reapplied my lip gloss, picking up my keys and putting on my jacket. 

“By the way,” I breathed, “you have the hottest sleeper build ever.” 

“Glad to know.” He smiled, kissing my hand just as the roar of the Impala came from the other side of the door. I opened the door, waving and getting into shotgun, turning to Dean. 

“No call.” He lectured. “No text, no warning that you might not be back-“ 

“Chill, Dean.” I sighed. 

“And even after that, there’s no sign of a hangover. In fact, you’re weirdly glowing…” He paused, his head whipping round. “You got laid.” 

“I, uh…” He pulled my collar down then let out a loud laugh, returning my collar to where it was. “You did! And by geek guy as well!” 

“His name is Xavier.” 

“I thought it was Nate.” 

“He’s undercover investigating Angela.”

”We’re on a hunt and you got yourself laid.” 

“Don’t think I don’t know about Cassie.” 

The comment made him pause. “No comment. Was he good?” 

“WHAT?!”

”It’s a genuine question! Did he treat you right?” 

“He was great.” 

“Then I have no problem.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You deserve to be happy, Beanie. My job is to protect you.”

We ended up at Angela’s roommate, Lindsey’s, apartment. Dean unlocked it, and we walked in, and he picked up a picture, but there was a reflection. 

Of Lindsey. 

“Who the hell are you?” She confronted before she shut the door, seemingly locking it. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, hold on!” Dean called. 

“I’m calling 911!” 

“Hear me out!” I spoke up. “I’m here with Angela’s cousin. Alan? Alan Stanwick? We’re here to pick up Angela’s stuff because her dad sent us.” 

She opened the door slightly. “He never told me you were coming.” 

“We have the keys to your house, sweetheart.” I smiled, holding up the keys. 

“Who are you?” 

“Naomi Wickham.” I lied. “Alan is my… boyfriend.” 

She came back out, coming face to face with us. She sat down on the sofa, and started crying, so we sat down and handed her a Kleenex tissue. 

“So. I'm sure you got a, a view of Angela that none of the family got to see.” Dean- I mean Alan- said. “Tell me, what, what was she like? I mean, what was she really like?”

”She was great.” She sobbed. “She was so, so…” 

“Great?” 

“Yeah.” She nodded before breaking down again. In an attempt to play the kind girlfriend, I gave her a tissue. 

“Here you go.” I soothed. “You two must have been really close, huh?”

”We were. But it's not just her, it's Matt.” 

“Who?” Dean asked. 

“Angela’s boyfriend.” 

“Right.” I nodded. “What about him?” 

“He killed himself last night. He cut his own throat. Who does that?” Lindsey wailed, taking another tissue. 

“That’s terrible.” 

“He was taking Angela's death pretty hard, and I guess... I mean, he'd been messed up about it for days.”

”Messed up how?” Dean asked. 

“He kept on saying that he saw her everywhere.” 

“Well, I’m sure that’s normal, with everything he was going through.” 

“No, he said that he SAW her. As in, an acid trip or something.” 

“Were Angela and Matt a happy couple? I mean, is there any reason that Angela would be angry with him?” Dean persisted.

“What? No, of course not, why do you ask?” She looked confused, so I had to step in. 

“Just checking, Lindsey. Where did Matt live?”

We opened the door to my safe house, hearing something weird going on with the television. Sam threw down the remote, acting as if nothing was wrong. 

“Hey.” He coughed. 

“Hey.” Dean grimaced. 

“Awkward.” I whistled. “Let’s not have me come home to that again, eh?”

”Where in the hell were you?” Sam asked, deflecting. 

“Working my imaginary case.” Dean sniped. 

“Yeah? And?” 

“Well, you were right, I didn't find much. Yeah. Except Angela's boyfriend died last night. Slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Uh, let's see, what else. Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings.” 

“Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, maybe there is something going on here.” 

“Maybe? Sam, I know how to do my job, despite what you might think.” 

“Hey, maybe we should check out the overall situation.” I interrupted. “We went to Matt’s apartment and it’s the same thing as the cemetery. Dead  plants, hell, even dead goldfish.” 

“So, unholy ground?” Sam asked. 

“Maybe. I'm still not getting that powerful angry spirit vibe from Angela.” Dean picked up a pink book, showing it to us. “I have been reading this, though.” 

“You stole the girl's diary?” 

“Yeah, and if anything, she’s a little too nice.” I remembered a book from Dr Mason’s room, so I pulled out every language book I had in my satchel.

”Are you kidding me? I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world.” Dean turned to me. “What’s going on, Beanie?” 

“Did you see a book with strange symbols in Dr Mason’s room?” I asked, flipping the book. 

“Yeah, I showed him it.” 

“I’m gonna need at least a few samples.” 

“I didn't realise the college employed grief counsellors.” We were at the house of a guy named Neil, who seemed to be close friends with Angela. 

“Oh yeah. Yeah, you talk, we listen. Or maybe throw in a little therapeutic collage, whatever jump-starts the healing.” Dean nodded. 

“Well, I think I’m ok, thanks.” Neil refused. 

“You heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, I did.” 

“Well, we just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I smiled. “Grief can make people do crazy things.”

”Look, I'm sorry about what happened to him. I am. But if Matt killed himself it wasn't 'cause of grief.” 

“No? Then why?” 

“It was guilt. Angie's death was Matt's fault and he knew it.” He said it almost bitterly, piquing my interest.

”How, Neil?”

“Well, she really loved that guy. But the night of the accident she walked in on him with another girl.” Neil explained. “She was really torn up, that's why she crashed the car. Um, look, I gotta get ready for work, so ... thanks for the concern, but... seriously, I'll be okay.” 

We left the house, a little more assured than last time.

“Well, that vengeful spirit theory's starting to make a little more sense.” Dean shrugged. “I mean, hell hath no fury...” 

“So if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you think it's over?” Sam asked as we got into the car. I was in the driver’s this time to give Dean a break. 

“Well, there's one way to be sure.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Burn the bones.” 

“Are you high?” I scoffed. “By ‘burning the bones’ you mean burning a still rotting body. That could release an angrier spirit.” 

“C’mon,” Dean chuckled, “since when are you afraid to get your hands dirty?” 

We were digging Angela’s grave, the three of us panting as we tossed soil into a large pile. When we were done, Dean gestured to the coffin.

“Ladies first.” He joked to Sam, who winced and opened the coffin-

“What the hell?” I exclaimed. The coffin was empty. 

“This can’t be possible.” Sam frowned. 

“They buried the body four days ago.” Dean fumed. 

“I don’t get it.” 

I aimed my torch at the side of the coffin, seeing inscriptions. I got in, bending down so I could see the letters properly. 

“Beanie? Got something?” Dean called. I pulled a pen and a flip notepad out of my inside pocket, balancing the notepad on my knee as I quickly wrote down the inscriptions, every small marking possible. “Beanie!” 

“We need to get back to the safe house.” I clicked my tongue, holding out my torch to see the paper. “I’m not translating this thing in a graveyard.” 

“Alright, what now?” Dean asked, sitting down at the table. I sipped a cup of coffee, taking out every language book in my satchel and laying them out on the table, opening them to the title page. Then I reached in, digging my hand around, shoulder deep. 

“Ivy, say something.” Sam urged.

“Alright, then.” I cleared my throat, still searching. “Where is this thing? Oh, right. So, that is an Ancient Greek dialect, as you know. But it’s gonna take me days to find the right one, and we don’t have that kind of time, so I need a little help.” I closed my fingers around a long cylindrical vial full of clear liquid. “Is this the truth serum?” I pulled the cap off, tapping the side twice. It glowed blue, so I smiled. “This is it.” I dipped a finger in it and made an inscription on the paper, feeling proud that I could actually still somewhat retain something from my witch days. “It’s actually relieving that I can still use some parts of sorcery.” I poured a careful amount in my hand and flicked it, drops of water landing on the front pages, but they absorbed the liquid and were left dry. 

“What are we waiting for?” Sam whispered. 

“Wait for it.” I grinned, and then the pages of every book started moving, flipping back and forth, searching for the right dialect. 

“This is cool.” Dean laughed, his hands out and his expression like a child. “We’re experiencing witchery firsthand, Sammy.” 

“I can see that, Dean.” Sam quickly replied. Then some books started closing with a snap, all of them shutting until one in the top left corner opened on a page with the exact dialect on it. I picked it up, placing it down on the left of the sheet I’d copied the scripture down on. 

“Vitam superiorem voco. Legiones inferorum voco. Magnam virtutem invoco, o diabole, ut hanc animam vivifices. Mihi, illis, vitae.” I recited.

”Hey, you might summon a body!” Dean warned, but I waved him off. 

“I need to inscribe this on a coffin for it to work, so chill, you little squirrel.” I chuckled, then looked over them again. “Translation: I call it a higher life. I call the legions of hell. I invoke a great power, O devil, for you to revive this soul. For me, for them, and for life.” I whistled. “This is an incantation for a ritual typically used in necromancy. You can use it to chat to souls on the other side or revive fresh corpses. But you can’ just do a random person, it has to be someone close to you and it requires a blood sacrifice.” 

“Blood sacrifice?” Sam repeated. 

“You heard me. Person we’re looking for most likely has a rune in their arm. But best bet? Dr Mason. Man knows his Ancient Greek.” I drew air in through my teeth, stacking the books one by one and placing them in my satchel. 

“I know we’ve never really touched the subject, but…” Sam pointed to my arm, the one with the rune on it, “how do you get by without your powers?” 

“I’ve done a lot of hobbies, and one was hunting. I’ve been training since I was around six or seven, which was when Dad taught me how to draw pretty shapes with salt, what he called holy water and oil. Then when I was ten, he gave me books on different creatures and how to kill ‘em. Then when I was thirteen, he took me to a range in the middle of the woods where he taught me to shoot. By the time I was off to college, I was an expert marksman, a good fighter since he’d put me in martial arts, I knew almost everything there is to know about things and how to kill ‘em. I only got my powers at 19, so I could get by pretty well if I didn’t have ‘em.” 

“Your dad taught you well.” Dean smirked. 

“Yeah, by the time I was, what, fifteen, I could just do this.” I covered my eyes, aiming for a target board on the wall and firing, uncovering my eyes and seeing that it hit bullseye. 

“I couldn’t do that at fifteen.” He grumbled. I checked the time, then cleared my throat. 

“I’ve gotta go, boys.” 

“Why?” Sam asked. 

“I’ve got a date.” The two whistled, making me grimace. “You’re both idiots.” 

“Well, c’mon, we need to get you ready!” Sam grinned, starting to fluff up my hair. Dean folded my jacket’s collar, clicking his tongue. 

“You go and spend some time with Xavier, we’ll confront the old man.” Dean winked. 

“If we need you, we’ll call you.” 

“Thanks, guys.” I smiled. “Even if you two are both annoying.”

”You’re like our sister, Beanie.” Dean smirked, taking my necklace and hanging it down the front of my shirt, where the green stone was visible. “But if Xavier breaks your heart, I am taking my pistol and going for him myself.”

”I don’t know, maybe I can talk to Angela to get the deed done.”

I was waiting for Xavier outside a bar, when I felt someone’s presence. 

“Who’s there?” I frowned, putting my hand on my gun. 

“Don’t shoot.” Angela was beside me. “You’re Ivonne. Ivy.”

”Speaking.” I still kept my hand on my gun. “But why?”

”I know your brother. Carter.” She explained. “We met on the other side and asked me to find you. He wants to tell you who took over his mind the night he died.”

”Tell me.” I gritted my teeth. “Angela, so help me, tell me who did it.”

”It was-“

”Ivy?” Xavier was walking towards me, and the next thing I knew, Angela was gone. “Hey.”

”Hey.” I grinned, pecking him on the cheek. “It’s been such a long time.”

”I know, eight hours is way too long.”

After a while of talking, I got a phone call from Dean. I picked it up, sighing. “Really? Three hours?”

’It wasn’t Dr Mason.’ Dean replied. ‘But, uh, we need some help with the rest of this.’ 

“Do you need my help so you don’t verbally assault anyone else?”

‘Pretty much.’ 

“I’ll be there.” I cut the call, grimacing. “The boys need me.”

”That’s fine.” Xavier shrugged. “I don’t mind it, cause I know how it is. Go, solve the case.”

”Ok, Xavier.” I smiled, giving him a kiss. “Thanks.”

”Go get it, then thank me again.” He grinned, and I picked up my stuff, got a taxi and drove back to the safe house. I unlocked the door, hung up my jacket, and went into the kitchen. 

“You needed me?”

”We think Neil is the one who brought back Angela.” Sam explained.

”Is there some voodoo that you can use to track the spell’s caster down?” 

“There should be, yeah.” I nodded, reaching in my satchel and pulling out a spell book and a bundle of rosemary. I arranged the rosemary into a rune, writing Neil’s name onto a sheet of paper and taking Dean’s lighter, muttering an incantation before burning the paper, letting it fall onto the rosemary. All of it burnt to ashes, but then turned red and started forming a person. A person who looked like the spitting image of Neil himself. “There we go.” 

“Neil resurrected Angela.” Sam breathed. “The things you’d do for love.” 

“But these things are typically what you shouldn’t do.” I clicked my tongue. “Sam, anything in John’s journal?” 

“No lore.” He shook his head. 

“What, you can’t just smoke ‘em with a headshot?” Dean asked. 

“Man, you watch way too many Romero flicks.”

“Well, they can’t be unkillable.” I pulled out a book and opened it. “Oh, god help me, this is in Babylonian even though it’s an Ancient Greek manner of killing the revived. Give me a second.” I peered at it for a second. “The most sure-fire way to kill these things is through a blood sacrifice. Theirs. In order to get the blood, they say you have to ‘nail the dead into their grave beds’.” 

“We have to find dear Angie, then.” Dean resolved, storing his gun on his person.

”But Angela’s going to be hard to neutralise, so prepare silver bullets just in case.” I replaced the cartridge full of lead bullets in my gun with a cartridge of silver bullets. 

“Got it.”

We unlocked the door to Neil’s house, my gun held up. 

“Hello? Neil?! It's your grief counsellors- we've come to hug.” Dean called, and I gave him a look. “What?” 

“Really?!” I whispered as he pulled out a gun. 

“Silver bullets?” Sam asked. 

“Enough to make her rattle like a change purse.” Dean smirked. 

“Wilted plants.” I nodded. “And creepy basement door. Unless he keeps his private collections down there, I’d say this is a good place to keep a killer zombie.”  Sam opened the door and both Dean and I sped to the landing, holding our guns out as we stepped down the stairs. However, it was empty. 

“Sure looks like a zombie pen to me.” 

“An empty one. You think she’s gone to get someone?” 

Dean pulled back a vents revealing a hole. “Nah, I think she’s gone to rent beaches.” 

“Look, smartass, she might kill someone. We gotta find her, Dean.” 

“Well, Matt was killed because he cheated on Angela, right?” I asked, hands in my pockets. 

“Yeah.”  They both answered. 

“So it takes two to tango. Plus, Angela’s roommate Lindsey seemed a little too attached to Matt’s death.” I deduced. “I think we need to pay another visit to Lindsey.” 

We drove up to Lindsey’s house, running up to the front door. We opened it and I ran past the boys, aiming at Angela and firing three times. She writhed, screaming and facing us. I shot one more time, hitting Angela in the chest, and she cried out and ran out of the window. 

“I’ve got you.” Sam whispered to Lindsey, holding her. Dean ran out of the window that Angela burst through, running back in a second later. 

“Well, that dead chick can run.” Dean scoffed. “I think we should have a little chat with Neil.” We made sure Lindsey was safe before running to the car, getting in and driving off to Neil’s house.

”So the silver bullets, they did something, right?” 

“Something, but not enough.” 

“Time to try the nailing into their grave thing as a Plan B.” I grimaced. “I know where we can get a pole from, so I’ve made a call. This is probably where all the vampire lore comes from, now that I think of it.” 

“How the hell are we going to get Angela back to the cemetery?” Dean asked. 

“You tell me, Winchester.” We pulled up at Neil’s office, knocking sharply on the door. When there was no answer, I took a picking tool and opened it, all of us advancing into his room. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Neil asked, standing up. 

“You know, I've heard of people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you -- you take the cake.” Dean scoffed. 

“Ok- who are you guys?” 

“You might want to ask Angela that question.” 

“What?” 

“We know what you did, Neil.” I persisted. “You brought back Angela. Kid, I’ve gone through a fair share of rituals myself and I know one when I see one.” 

“You're crazy.” Neil stammered. 

“Your girlfriend's past her expiration date and we're crazy?” Dean scoffed. “When someone's gone they should stay gone. You don't mess with that kind of stuff.”

”It’s black magic, Neil.” I sighed. 

“Angela killed Matt. She tried to kill Lindsey.” Sam exclaimed urgently. 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Neil whispered. 

Dean stomped over, taking Neil roughly by the collar. “Hey! No more messin’ around, Neil. His blood is on your hands. Now. All of us can make this right, but you've gotta tell us where she is. Tell us!” 

“She’s at my house!” He burst out, looking hounded. Dean spotted a wilted plant and so did Sam and I, so Dean formulated a plan.

”You sure about that?” When Neil nodded, Dean smirked his proud smirk. “Listen. It doesn't really matter where she is. There's only one way to stop her. We've got to perform another ritual over her grave, to reverse the one that you did. We're going to need some black root, some-some scar weed, some candles... It's very complicated, but it'll get the job done. She'll be dead again in a couple hours. I think you should come with us.” Dean stared intently. “I'm serious, Neil. Leave with us. Right now.” 

“No, no.”

I leaned in, dropping my voice to a whisper. “I get your situation, Neil. But more people could die. So, listen to me carefully. Get out of here as soon as you can. But most of all, be cool. No sudden movements. Don't make her mad.” He nodded shakily, and I patted him in the shoulder. I raised my voice deliberately, turning to Sam and Dean. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“You really think this is going to work?” Sam asked. 

“Nope.” Dean shrugged. “But it’s the only plan we’ve got.”

”You ordered a metal pole?” Xavier showed up with a pointy metal rod, which he gave to Dean. 

“Yeah, we did.” I grinned, kissing Xavier briefly. “Thanks, Zay.” 

“We owe you, man.” Sam grinned, shaking his hand. 

“Yeah, we do, Zay.” Dean teased. “I’m kidding. Name’s Dean.” 

“Xavier, as you know.” He smirked, both of them shaking hands. We heard a noise, and I pulled a gun from my arm holster, going in the direction of the sound. I heard steps behind me, so I turned around and pointed my gun at Angela, who stopped short, putting her hands up. 

“Wait! It's not what you think. I didn't ask to be brought back.” She begged. “But it's still me. I'm still a person. Please.” 

“Do I care?” I scoffed, then shot her in the forehead. Her head snapped back as she screamed, and I started for the grave, but she tackled me, and twisted my head back. 

“I could’ve told you who killed your brother!” She snarled. “Now you have to die, just like he did.”

“Yeah, right.” I shot her in the chest, getting up and shooting again. Another bullet joined me: Dean’s. We both fired at her again and again, until she reached the end, to which Xavier fired a shot from his gun, and she fell in. Dean took the pole, stabbing it into her. 

“What’s dead should stay dead.” He growled. 

“WAIT! NO-“ Dean drove the stake through her, and she immediately went limp, cutting off her last plea.

”Finally.” I groaned, replacing my cartridge. 

Dean seemed rather off after we re-killed Angela, and Sam wanted to keep Xavier company, so the other two were driving back to my house in Xavier’s car. Dean’s hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white, and then he suddenly pulled over. He got out and so did I, watching as he sat down on the hood. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, sitting down. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking down.

“For what, Dean?” 

“The way I've been acting. And for Dad. It’s my fault that he’s dead.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I know you and Sam've been thinking it -- so have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later Dad's dead and the Colt's gone.” 

I sighed. “Dean…” 

“You can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know.” 

“We don’t know that, not for sure.” 

“You, Sammy and Dad ... you're the most important people in my life.” He started crying, and I took his hand. “And now ... I never should've come back, Ivy. It wasn't natural. And now look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead. You and Sam wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it. So tell me. What could you possibly say to make that all right?” 

“I can’t.” I whispered, but I instead leaned his head on my shoulder, letting him cry it out. “But I know how you feel.”

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[talisidekick]

I need your help...

If you don't know me, hello, I'm Accalia, I go by Tali Sidekick online on Youtube, Instagram, and on the rarest of occasions Twitch. I'm a 29 year old transgender woman from Canada, who came out and began socially and medically transitioning in 2021. I stream largely on Youtube and on the rare occasion I make videos (it's been over a year since I last did that).

I could use your help affording my legal name change. I've been trying to afford it myself but I'm unable to for reasons I'll get into below. The link is in my blog description, but I'll post it here:

Recently, while walking home from work (I don't make enough to afford public transit or my own vehicle or a bicycle) I got attacked by a middle-aged man in a dimly lit residential neighbourhood. I got away, and thankfully I didn't give him enough time to do more than grab me by the arm. However, I had to file a police report, which gave me two options: use my legal name which at current is my deadname (ie. a name I no longer wish to use) which would be distressing to say the least, or submit it anonymously. I chose the latter which unfortunately does little besides let the public know that someone dangerous with a vague description is in their area. I wish I could have put my name on that report but using my legal name as it stands now is ... I can't.

To add to this, I was saving up, but unfortunately the student loans I owe decided to charge me during an appeal process (they weren't supposed to) and when the charge partially bounced they denied my appeal (which isn't supposed to happen under the contract agreement I signed) because of "outstanding payments". The appeal process also only looked at my gross income for one month, specifically the month I got paid 3 times in (it happens only once a year) and decided to combine all three payments into an equal 2 and evaluated my paycheck at around 25/hr when I only make 16/hr and has thus denied me reduced loans payment (I'm working on this but it's adding to my stress). So at current, the $300 I had extra got eaten by the National Student Loans Services Centre (NSLSC) again and from previous experience even though I should be reimbursed once this is cleared up, I won't be.

I would have also had more (remember that extra third paycheck?) but my health insurance stopped covering me because despite being signed up to a provincial pharmacy program they decided I wasn't, and forced me to buy my hormones and ADHD meds out of pocket. They only -just- reinstated coverage, but getting reimbursed will take over a month possibly 2.

As such, I have exactly $48 in savings and $7 in my basic checking account.

I want to get my name changed, I've been trying for over 2 years, and it's been impossible. Every time I have the money to spare, the NSLSC eats it and doesn't give it back, some medical thing comes up, or some unforseen cost rears its head and consumes my meager savings. The cost averages out to about $450 because it requires Finger Printing for a background check, Notary Fees, Processing Fees, and Reprinting Fees for my Birth Certificate, Drivers License, and Marriage License.

And if the $450 goal is exceeded, any excess getsput towards affording the $6000 surgery cost of getting SRS/GRS (Sex Reassignment Surgery/Gender Reassignment Surgery). I have until December next year before my government will no longer cover the cost of the surgery supposedly.

If I can get help here, I really want all my legal doccuments to read "Llorelei Accalia [Lastname]". I'm so tired of having to explain to people that I'm transgender because the name, face, and (somehow) voice don't match.

Currently at:

$50/$450