#🤭Much needed some traditional practice

[thasdedede4u]

MetaDedede Week Day 3: ❤️Caring❤️

”I guess… make yourself comfortable~”

[itz-me-brett-duh]

Part 3 Random tmnt Bayverse questions and my thoughts: Clothes/Gear?

💙❤️💜🧡🐢

(Side note: These are just some of my theories but feel free to leave your own 😊! Some fluff! Also if you have any suggestions I’m always open to them. I’m a new writer and I wanna appeal to more readers! Also everyone is aged up 18+)

What clothes/gear would they gain outside of the films? What accessories do they have now? How often do they change clothes? Do they remove all their gear after an important mission? Do they remove all their gear to sleep/relax? Do they keep their masks on at all times? Where do they get their clothes/gear?

Leonardo💙:

After meeting a few humans our turtles would get greater access to cleaner and newer clothes and fabric. Leo likes traditional prints and Ninja clothes/gear. He doesn’t really doesn’t care much for fashion. You don’t care how he dresses either, he looks hot in all his ninja gear. Although if you had to ask him to wear one thing it would be a suit and tie. He would look so hot 🥵 in it. Boy, you would like to live that fantasy.

I think Leo is always striving for improvement. So I feel he would learn to master other weapons as well. He wouldn’t choose his brother’s weapons, but something else. Something smaller and easily attachable to his gear. He could use it as an emergency in dire situations.

Like all his brothers, Leo changes clothes once a day, when not in the middle of a big mission. He always takes a shower right after a workout, mission, or anything to do with physical activity. It helps soothe his aching muscles. He never really changes into comfy wear. His idea of comfy is him in just his boxers, in his bed, snuggling with you. The rest of the time he is wearing his clothes. His gear stays off, unless on a mission, sparing with his brothers or splinter.

He used to wear his mask all the time. He felt so proud of himself and his team. But now it’s become quite old and ragged, he takes it off when in the lair. He leaves it neatly folded in his nightstand drawer. He occasionally uses it to cover your pretty eyes during sex.

He knows his gear is precious and made by Donnie or fixed up by Master Splinter to be given to him. Therefore he treats it with the utmost respect. You love how much he cares. Just like he does for you. You love how much he respects your boundaries. It may seem like he has control. But he always carefully notices how your body reacts. He knows when to not do something and when it feels good for you.

Raphael❤️:

You know how Raph is good at knitting? Well he’s also good sewing. He works with Donnie to repair clothes to fit their abnormal massive bodies. He messes up sometimes and curses out anything in the vicinity.

He usually made things that were practical not fancy. But sometimes he would fix and beautify any clothes that he happened to rip off during sex. He made those one shorts you have a little shorter and tighter, so he could enjoy more of your ass 🤭. Also he will make his brothers and him cool clothes if they pay the right price. He makes things for himself to impress you, even though you told him he doesn’t need to.

Raph would probably carry an emergency first aid kit with him during missions and steak outs. Him and his brothers have dangerous jobs and you never know when one of them may get hurt. Raph, even after all these years, gets hurt on every mission. Even though you tell him to be careful, he always comes home with a bloody wound here and a bruised wound there. You help him patch up. Now having a first aid kit would put all your worries to rest.

Raph loves it when you help him out of his gear. After a long mission his muscles ache and your gentle touch soothes him. After, you take a shower together. It’s not always sexual. Sometimes you just wash and wipe away his pain. The hot water and your presence reminds him that everything is okay. You both go to sleep after he puts on some sweat pants or pajama bottoms.

He used to hate himself. With or without the mask. But seeing the way your eyes look into his, with nothing but love and hope, well his heart has changed. He usually leaves his mask on in the lair but for most of your more intimate moments he takes off his mask. He takes off the mask both physically and emotionally. His wall comes down and it’s just him and you. You and him.

Raph’s gear, like him needs fixing. Donnie constantly repairs it. Raph cares for it. He does. But in the moment, when all hell is loose. The people he loves and the city of New York is more important than any objects.

Donatello💜:

Donnie repaired an old sewing machine so that Raph would have any easier and less angry time with fixing up clothes. Donnie is figuring out a way the turtles can wear shirts. Mikey volunteered to be the test subject, if Raph would repair any clothes he liked for the time being. Raph reluctantly agreed.

Donnie’s trying to make the whole shirt thing look good. Even though the turtles have thicker skin than humans, his skinny ass gets cold in the winter 🥶. He doesn’t just drink coffee to stay up but to warm him up from the inside out. Plus you’re always showing him funny science memes, and some of those would make the funniest T-shirts.

Donnie is always acquiring new gear. He’s always tinkering in his lab coming up with new inventions. Whether for fun or to solve an important issue. You could spend all day listening to him discuss all his ideas and inventions. He’s so cute 🥰! And he’s your nerdy boy! He also makes his brothers and you little equipment to keep you all safe. He really is just the sweetest and coolest guy you know!

It doesn’t seem like he removes his gear but he does. He just has everything on at basically all times. He usually doesn’t sleep. His brain runs rampant with ideas. With a coffee in one hand and whatever piece of equipment in the other. He seems unstoppable. But eventually after enough sleep deprivation and the longing to nuzzle up to you, he goes to bed. He takes off most of his gear and thinks about showering. It’ll have to wait till morning, he is too tired to do anything. With the last little energy he has he’ll play some background noise to get him into a long deep sleep. Believe me he needs it.

In the morning you find him snoring lightly. His glasses and mask still on. Carefully, being sure not to wake him, you take them off and set them on his overcrowded nightstand. And with a quick peck on his temple you leave him be.

Donnie welds much of their gear out of scraps of metal. He looks pretty hot with his welding mask on. Maybe he should try wearing it during sexy time. He can weld your bodies together anytime he likes 😉.

Michelangelo🧡:

Mikey our Prince Charming, loves wearing cool clothes. He loves expressing himself through cool little fun patterns. He likes wearing funky socks, his favorite ones are the pizza one’s you got him on his birthday. Since the turtles can’t wear shirts yet. Mikey relies on accessories to feel like the cool 😎 turtle he is.

Mikey doesn’t so much as aquire new gear but bedazzles his old gear. Of course he get’s stuff from Donnie, but he makes his own crafty creations. He has glitter bombs just to make “missions more magical” or, the more likely scenario, to annoy Raph. He made his nunchucks glow in the dark once with some paint, and even let you put rhinestones on part of his shell. They all eventually fell off but hey, they were fun while they lasted. Donnie seriously regrets buying Mikey that adult science kit sometimes. He gave Mikey too much mischievous power. Fucking glitter bombs!

Mikey takes off the little gear he has. Then he takes off all his clothes and jumps into bed naked with you 😂. He should be tired but he’s not, and he tickles you before removing his mask and the gold chains around his neck. You both laugh before he starts to tickle you In more intimate places. You push him away still giggling. Why? He’s stinky! Mikey runs to the shower and takes the quickest one you’ve ever seen. He waggles his brow bone at you before kissing you. He’s a charmer and he always succeeds in his mission.

[the-anime-enthusiast]

MHA CHARACTERS TYPE IN WOMEN

#3 Shoto Todoroki

SHOTO TODOROKI - PHYSICAL

Bro does not care 😭🙏 I personally believe that romance is very hard for him to understand and emerse himself in, so whenever he finally meets someone nice he barely pays attention to the physical ✋😌

Besides that I still gotta provide some grounds of his attraction so to start I think he likes slim women, not like super skinny, he's okay with some chub but he prefers athleticism (I blame his dad), someone who looks like they run cross country 🫡

LEGS LEGS LEGS you got long legs? Folded. 8 different ways. 🫡 He likes em bigger, skinny, muscle, bro does not care, he just likes them 🙂‍↔️ Finds himself laying next to you at night rubbing them, not even in a sexual way, just like giving massages and touching them 🧍‍♀️

Long hair 😉 He prefers someone with natural color, just any natural color honestly, BUT AN ABSOLUTE SUCKER FOR LONG STRAIGHT BLACK HAIR ‼️(momo cough cough) He's a very traditional man and finds beauty in traditional women 🤧

Small boobs ✋😌 He's never been a sexual person but loves em, something easy to grab 🌚

If you dress like a mom or a teacher he's puddy 🧍‍♀️ I believe he has a hard time expressing his feelings and understanding his own thoughts so this, he just kinda rolls with 😭 You got a thin maxi skirt, cardigan, SOME GLASSES? He's done for. K.O.‼️

Features don't matter a lot for him buuutt HE LOVES BEAUTY MARKS‼️ Like a lil mole on the face like Marilyn Monroe, he's checked out. His fav random feature he likes 🌞

SHOTO TODOROKI - MENTAL

Smart women 🙇‍♀️ Loves a big brain and someone who can just as logical as he is, seeing things for what they are on face surface 🙂‍↕️

motherly women 😭 He doesn't get it either but if you cook and clean for him ✋ Play with his hair til he falls asleep in your arms ✋ KISS HIS FOREHEAD ✋ He's a pile of puddy for you to play with bro 😭 He loves it 😌

SWEET AND GENTLE WHO DONT UNDERSTAND THEIR OWN STRENGTH‼️ He loves to give reassurance to the people he loves and ABSOLUTELY LOVES giving compliments, making you feel good about yourself, so when you often doubt yourself he kinda likes it 😭 Gives him an excuse to constantly tell you how great your doing and when you accept his compliments with warmth and love he practically dies 🫶

SHOTO TODOROKI - RANDOM

Had a crush on Kiyoko from HAIKYUU 🧍‍♀️ Watched it when he was like 12 and that was the first time he ever had a lil crush on somebody 🤭

LOVED watching the Geisha as a kid, always admired them so much, thought they were the most beautiful women he's ever seen too ❤️

BOARD GAMES‼️ Loves playing some board games with his s/o 🤩 Loves to play Mahjong, complex card games, even some of the new stuff like cards against humanity, but only when someone there to help him understand what's so funny about the game 😭🫶

Making tea and sweets are fav past time for him and his girl, Indulging her in her baking fantasies 😚 (stealing his dad's credit card information and buying her all the expensive supplies she needs) 🌝🎂

TRADITIONAL CLOTHING ‼️ GETS THIS BOY GOOOOIIIINNNGGGG ‼️ He loves it so so much, in an innocent way even, something about it lights the fire in his soul 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

THATS THE POST ‼️‼️Again, I've never been a huge fan of SHOTO but trust me ✋ I get it so HERES SOME HEAD CANNONS FOR YALL ‼️ Hope you enjoyed, I've always loved the idea that he's OBSESSED. with traditionalist things so writing about it was SO MUCH FUN ‼️

the Geisha thing is my fav ☺️ Just little SHOTO watching them go down the street with his mom, awestruck by their beauty 😭🫶🫶

THANKYOU FOR THE SUPPORT AND LOVE, IM SO SO GLAD YALL ENJOY MY DRABBLES ‼️ BYE BYE POOKIES 😚😚 (LEMME KNOW WHO ELSE I SHOULD DO, ILL DO ANY ME CHARACTER‼️) (literally any 👁️👁️)

YOURS TRULY ‼️ SMUDGE 😉

[prettymrswright]

drake & drive

tank full of gas

fill up my cup

see, where could i function?

can i pull up?

i need a buddy

it don’t hit home

‘til i’m alone, now

you know wassup, drake’n & driving..

pairing: riri williams x black!fem reader

content: angst under-tones, smut-leaning (18+),slightly toxic!riri, substance use (weed & liqs people, no hard drugs), flashbacks, intoxicated confessions, emotional conversations, riri is a lover-girl indenial, reader can make ri jump through a cheerio with little to no effort.

background: riri tugs with her feelings after the dragged out will-they-won't-they troupe going on between you two. her trust issues won't allow her to fully commit, but now she's wondering if she'll be regretting that decision.

a/n: my first ri fic, this is my baby! speaking of, shout out to my baby @dejaonline for the collaborative efforts on the picture as well as her input on the plot. this was made with her in mind, fully inspired by her (she's a riri girl🤭) and this song that has crack ROCK in it. i hope you guys luvvv, and as usual, i gotta remind y'all;

taglist is pinned to my page! if you want to be tagged for someone specific OR if you wanna opt out of any tags, gone fill out that form for me. taglist: @dejaonline @inmyheadimobsessed @kisskourt @ventingfanfics @saintwrld @vampzxi @vixentheplanet @pinkwright @sapphicvqmpires @verachii @shuriszn @shurislover "aight, nigga, you gone be upset when i take your money again," ri laughed, taunting her bestfriend, key. "yeah, yeah just put up, mf." key takes out his cash and begins counting it. every year at the fair, the two of them would place a bet on who would win at balloon darts, a tradition stemming from a conversation on who has better 'aim'. they walk up to the post and place their tickets down. "yo my man, set us up real quick," ri called out to the older gentlemen behind the counter. he turned around, eyes meeting with the two, and laughed aloud dropping his head. "you two, again. y'all are something else," he says, still smiling, setting down two pairs of 6 darts for them each. "this is for my redemption, unc, this is personal," key says, picking up a dart and practicing his form. "i won't be losing again." "yea, we'll see about that." ri laughs. "you know the drill," key starts. "most balloons in 5 rounds wins. price goes up by 5, we at 20 bills this year." ri picks up a dart and tosses it straight through the middle, popping her first balloon. "yo!" key exclaims. "you on some cheating shit, we ain't even count down!" "you talking too much, nigga," ri shrugs him off, making the attendant laugh once again. the two of them went head to head, leading up to them being neck to neck in the final round. going back and forth through both hits and misses, key set off his final dart, popping a bright blue balloon right at the top, ultimately beating ri. "let's fucking go!" key yelled out, doing his lil victory dance. ri stood with a strong, angsty pout rested on her face, as the sore loser she was. "whatever, nigga," ri rolled her eyes and slapped the andrew jackson faced bill in key's hand. key takes his prize and extends it out to ri, mocking her pouting. "you can have this bear!" she smacks his hand away from in front of her, almost making him drop it, causing him to burst into laughter. .. the two of them walked around the park, snacks in hand, taking a break from their previous festivities. after hearing/feeling a ping, key takes his phone out his jean pocket and opens the text.

“come on,” key motions ri.

“where we going?” asks a puzzled riri.

“over by the ring toss,” he points. “i got a good friend of mine i want you to meet.”

“ughhh,” ri heavily groans. “your social, friendly ass. why we always gotta be around people, why can’t we just kick it, just us two?”

“i know, i know, my bad, ri,” key says throwing his hands up. “but i promised her i would link her once we were in the same area, and it so happens that was this. it won’t be for long.”

“man, whatever,” an aggravated riri puffs out. “just don’t expect me to be miss congeniality or no shit.”

“you a trip, ri,” key lets out a hearty laugh. “be nice, please.”

the two made their way over, meeting with two girls, one brownskin, sitting at about 5’5, one darkskin at 5’3.

“wassup, key!” you smiled warmly, embracing your old childhood friend.

“it’s been a long time,” key smiles back.

“yes it has,” the girl beside you intercepts. it was your best friend val. she went to school with the two of you as well, and has a had a crush on key since then.

“oh, shit, val!” key basically runs over to hug her. “damn, girl, where you been!”

she giggles at his excitement. “i’ve been around! back and forth from study-abroad in italy.”

“okay, i see you, you on your shit! that’s wassup,” he daps her up.

“thank you.” she smiles, the two of them allowing their hands to linger in holding position.

feeling the tension building, you clear your throat, not being able to conceal the smile that was creeping up. the two finally pull apart and pretend to straighten themselves out. your eyes shift their attention from key and val and found themselves attached to a small girl with braids, standing to the left of key and directly across from you.

“oh, shit, my bad,” he apologizes and places his hand on the girl’s back. “this is my best friend, ri. ri this is val and y/n.”

she didn’t seem very interested. her eyes were glued to her phone in her hand, and her body language was very stand off-ish.

“hey, wassup.” she says without looking up. that was very rude of her. key didn’t roll with rude people. to give her the benefit of the doubt, you just summed it up to possible shyness.

key aggressively taps her back, forcing her to look up, a stern look on his face.

ri finally looked up and could feel her entire body freeze in place in the middle of the 95 degree weather. you were the most beautiful person the young engineer had ever laid her eyes on. your glowy, rich, melanated skin, your mocha brown eyes, the long, thick lash follicles that decorated them. your thick, curly hair that surrounded your skull in but a very small fro. it was as if you came straight out of a magazine, 90s edition. you being taller than her didn't help the fact that she felt as though she was looking up at a goddess. "hi," you gave a nervous laugh, in attempts to mask the awkwardness of the situation. your smile. so big and so warm. could light up an entire room. your lips, the perfect shape. they even had a brown tint around the circumference of them, naturally being lined. everything about you was mesmerizing to ri. if she stared any harder or any longer, she probably could count each follicle of hair rested on top of your head. "hi-i, um.. my bad, I'm--" ri frantically began looking for the words to appease the awkwardness, and stumbled on almost all of 'em. "ri. right? key just said it," you help her out, quietly giggling to yourself. not the strongest start. but she was cute. "right. and um--" she begins, and you already know she's getting ready to ask you to announce your name.. again. "Y/N. you aren't the best listener, are you?" you taunt her, a smile on your face. "oh-- nah, my bad, i just.. got a lot on my mind, today, that's all." ri lies, wiping the sweat forming on the back of her neck off with her palm. "right," you laughed, somewhat condescendingly. you turned your attention back to key. "y'all got plans for the rest of the night?" "yes," ri rushed out. "nah," key answered simultaneously, both of the friends' responses mending over each other. key shot ri a look before continuing his sentence. "we just freeballing, doing shit as we go."

ri was irritated. she wanted to spend time w her boy, and not only is their one on one time being interrupted, here was this pretty, saddity chick getting smart at the mouth. making her look somewhat of a fool. not knowing, the young prodigy could do that all on her own. she'd be lying however, if she said she wasn't intrigued. "have you guys gotten on the ferris yet? i gotta get some good selfies at the top. you know, influencer shit," val says, comedically. "nah we haven't, we could head over now before the line gets long," key suggests. "sounds good. don't worry, ri, after this, we'll be out your hair." you flashed her a quick smirk, letting her know you were aware of her irritation. and out of her hair, you weren't. you were in her hair. in her brain. in her life. in her room. in her bed. she couldn't escape you. but this time, she didn't even want to.

the follow months after your initial meeting, the two of you had quickly became inseparable. it started out with exchanges of memes, followed by texting all day, then tying up the phone, falling asleep on facetime. eventually those things led to dates, and sleepovers..and hookups. the two of you were enjoying yourselves, no doubt. it was as especially hard for ri, however. ri didn't do the relationship thing. she did it once, got her heartbroken, decided that wouldn't happen again. and it didn't. miss love 'em, and leave 'em she was. but you. you made her think. you made her learn and explore parts of herself she didn't even know existed. you made her feel important. powerful, even. naturally, she didn't know what to do with that influx of new feelings and information. so she did what any confused and slightly scared person would do; run. it was hot and cold with riana williams. one day, she made you feel loved and on top of the world. other days, she made you feel like you killed her cat. and you'd think the mixed signals would be enough for you to do way with it altogether. but when riri loved on you, it felt as if there wasn't anything you could not do. it was very clear and obvious that the two of you brought the absolutely best out of each other. you complimented each other so well, in every way. same interests, same ambitions. you even mimicked each other's mannerisms. when it was good, it was so good. but the more serious it got, the more at stake your feelings were.

she would constantly remind you. how much she would not, could not, be in a relationship. how much she didn't see the point. how much of a waste of it time it was. besides, she couldn't have no love shit fucking up her focus. what was understood, didn't need to be explained. and if she didn't remind you with her words, she sure as hell reminded you with her actions. until one day, you were pushed past your limits.

a half-asleep, sluggish riri, lugged her body to the door after hearing a 4th round of hard knocks ricocheting off of her door.

“who the fuck is bangin’ down my shit,” she cussed to herself.

“i’m comin’, damn!”

she swung the door open to be met with a drenched from rain, and very angry you.

“what the fuck, riri.” you semi-yell.

“woah. what happened to you?” she genuinely asked, moving over to let you inside.

“what happened to me?” you scoff, with shock at her audacity. “you were supposed to pick me up over an hour and a half ago, ri.”

“oh, shit.” ri’s face dropped at her realization. she was supposed to pick you up from school, as she promised. all public transportation was delayed, and it was entirely too pricey to uber. “my bad.”

this is the 3rd time she forgot.

“your bad? it’s horrible outside ri. you weren’t even a little concerned about my whereabouts?”

“I said my bad, y/n, damn, what you want, a love letter?” ri spat at you.

“I can’t believe you.” you laughed to yourself, almost fully in disbelief of what was going on right at that moment.

“it’s common fucking courtesy, to come to your girl’s aid when in need, but your promise? which I didn’t ask for by the way, then made it a responsibility. and you failed to show or do either.”

“man, whatever. you got here all on your own just fine, ain’t it? what, your side nigga came and got you, hm?”

“you are un-fucking believable. naturally this is my fault. you know what I am sick and tired of your shit, you must think I’m some sort of d—“

you were interrupted by a voice following behind riri, accompanied by footsteps.

“ri, who’s at the door? come back to bed.”

immediately your entire body froze in place and your eyes began to well up on command, against your will. everything went still. the silence that filled the room could be sliced with a razor. your eyes met with the girl standing behind riri, her tall, slim, athletic build wrapped around in a silk robe. then shifted to a guilty riri, staring at the floor in shame. "fuck." she let out a guilty whisper. so this is what she had been doing. why you had been left out in the cold rain, damn near across town. fucking other girls, occupying her time with things that were clearly more important than you. "i-is, this your gi-" "nah, she not." ri says rather quickly, not even letting whoever this girl was finish her question. your bloodshot-red eyes darted to the young engineer with a piercing glance. she gave you back a shrugged off look, seemingly in attempt to double down on her answer, just this time with way less confidence. once processed what she'd done, guilt sprung onto her again. you turned around to head bolt out the door. "y/n--" ri attempted to stop you, to say god knows what. the pain you felt was venomous. you just needed to get out of there. "fuck you, riana." your harsh and emphasized words slicing through her one syllable at a time. you left and never turned back. as hurt as you were, you refused to put yourself back through the emotional turmoil again. you were aware the two of you weren't in a relationship, and be that as it may, if that were the case, boundaries should have been set on what you two should and should have not been doing. and being that they weren't, you and your feelings got wrapped in all of ri's sweet words, and dramatic love professions and believed that maybe her mind would change. you'd been hurt before by her, but never like this. you'd never dream she'd go as far as this. ri's guilt and regret was eating her alive, bit by bit, piece by piece. she loved you. she knew it, you knew it. however, her self-sabotaging ways would not allow her to flourish in love, or damn near anywhere else. she called and called, and texted and texted till her phone glitched out. she sent letters to your house. once you blocked her, she texted and called from other numbers. she even popped up at your house on a couple occasions to no success. she looked crazy, hell, she FELT crazy. after awhile, she decided it'd be best to leave you alone, give you your space.

i mean, maybe this just proved it. how unworthy she was of love, of you. so she did what she knew best. she slept around, girls in and out her house. she sold promises and dreams. she did any and everything to distract herself from the fact that she is downright, indubitably, outrageously, in love with you. and no matter how or how much she tried to fill that y/n shaped void, it would never suffice. months would go by, and all her shenanigans would come to a cease. no matter what she did, or where she would go, she would think of you. everything reminded her of you. every song, every show. as much as she had fucked this one over, she so badly wished to just see you once more. at least to apologize properly. ri wasn't the type to vent or be vulnerable, but if it was anybody she would do for, it was you, and key. key wouldn't hear the end of it. but he would never fail to let her know how bad she messed that one up. key was supportive always, but he would always hold you accountable for your shit. you'd been away on a study-abroad trip in germany, growing, flourishing, in more ways than one. you weren't really tripping about love. you'd been seeing people here and there, but it really wasn't your focus. this past weekend would be your last weekend, and you'd be heading back home to your city. ri and key were chilling in her living room the day of your return, having a regular weekend kickback, talking shit, shooting dice, you know, regular best friend shit. "how many times i'mma tell you, you can't beat me in no strategic shit, no day," key says laughing, picking the money they had both put up from off the ground. "man, whatever, you just got lucky," she playfully nudges key's shoulder. ri takes out her phone, and opens her instagram, going through some stories, when she gets to val's story. when she clicks the pink/orange ombré circle, she sees a boomerang of you, throwing your hands up, jumping next to your suitcase, right in front of the airport, with the caption, 'my best friend's back in town!!! mimosas on me :)'. it had been posted 4 hours ago, so you had been back for a little time. she wondered if she should mention it. just in the case that key knew anything. "so um.." she started. " i hear y/n's back in town from her trip.." "aw man, don't start that shit, leave that girl alone" key says shaking his head. ri immediately sucks her teeth, in annoyance, as if she wasn't trying to pry. "nigga, what you mean, I can't make a statement? I just said I hear she was back, not I was gone go hunt her down, damn." defensive she was. cuz it didn't all the way sound like a bad idea. "yeah..aight," key semi-chuckled at the defensive girl. "yea i think she just got back this morning."

"from a school trip, or some shit, right? that's wassup." ri plainly expresses her pride for you.

she looks back down at the post being held captive by her thumb, just examining you. you were glowing. your skin was radiant, hair growing, shape filling out; you truly looked— happy.

riri didn’t wanna get in the way of that. she just.. wanted to be another reason that you were happy— for real this time.

“fuck it,” ri thought to herself, deciding that she would finally reach out. on some calm shit though, you know. if she got rejected, she got rejected, at least she tried.

looking at the time it was 9 almost 10 o’clock, and she decided that if she was gonna make any type of move, it would have to be right now and while she was by her lonesome.

“ahhh,” ri stood up, fake yawning into a fake stretch. “aight my nigga, i’mma head out. i’m super tired, I’mma make it a early night.”

“naaa, already? you whack! what happened, can’t hang no more?” key teased, initially not realizing why it was she really was eager to leave.

“it’s not even like that,” the small girl started. “i just got stuff to do, that’s all.” she got up and gathered her things before semi-rushing out the door.

“mhm. leave her alone, ri!” key says mid chuckle. he could always figure her out.

“bye!” ri slammed the door shut and rushed down the steps and over and into to her black 2022 kia sedan.

she takes a deep breath and huffs out an exhausted sigh, juggling the thoughts of you through her mind. she unlocks her phone and goes to your contact, examining the details with her warm cocoa brown eyes, the same name and picture there from when you were ‘hers’.

after going back and forth for 20 minutes she finally presses the ‘imessage button’ and goes to text you.

5, 10 minutes go by and she’s a nervous wreck. ‘fuck,” she thought to herself. “i should’ve listened to key, i should’ve just left her alone.’

she goes to delete her message and the thread until she saw your text bubble pop up.

you, 1 not having her blocked, and 2 responding in the first place was a green enough flag for her. she decided she needed to see you. she had to see you. all this courage being built up by her own delusion needed to be acted on immediately, without a second wasted, or else it would continue eating at her.

‘can i pull up on you?,” she sent. before you could even respond, she came anyway, and parked a few houses down.

as she awaited your response, she reached in the back seat, bringing in front the black plastic bag with a bottle of don julio, a carton of lemonade, and two ice cups she had previously bought that afternoon for her and key.

her nerves were certainly jumpy, so she decided she would sip a lil something, just to take the edge off. she poured the liquid courage and the citrusy chaser into her ice cup, and sipped directly from the rim, neverminding the straw that was placed in the bag.

remembering the j she rolled that afternoon also, she takes it out her pre-roll case rested in her cup holder and lights it ablaze. after blowing out the potent flame, she lifts it to her aquaphor’d lips, cl and welcomes the wavelength of smoke through her mouth/nose and into her bloodstream, french inhaling with shut lids.

no matter how badly she wanted to see you and talk to you, she wasn’t confident in having too sober of a conversation, in fear of her thoughts consuming her and her fucking this up once again.

she felt all her muscles and joints slowly relax into each other, the smoke parading through her system. involuntarily, it was beginning to arouse her as well, but those feelings would have to take a backseat on this one. she wasn’t on that, tonight. I mean shit, if you was, but her main focus was getting her lady back. at least the best friend portion of you.

after her 4th pull, her phone buzzes in her lap, and she almosts drops the blunt trying to get to it.

you lived about 10 to 12 minutes away from her, so that’s roughly how long she lingered down your block, trying not to look so desperate, but fuck it— she was.

desperate to hear your voice again, to smell your warm vanilla and musk scent, to hear your laugh, to hear you call her, ‘riana.’ in that stern, warning voice.

‘i’m out front.’ she sent her final text before she would see you for the first time in months.

ri began to get even more jittery, her hands and the back of her neck producing sweat quicker than normal, awaiting your arrival. she couldn’t tell if it was her nerves surrounding the situation, her being cross-faded, or both.

after what felt like forever, there you were. even more beautiful than remembered. she watched intently as your toned figured came walking down your brownstone, and forward to her car.

your now grown out, awkward length hair, tucked away into knotless braids fell down to the small of your back. a light grey short-sleeved cropped tee, lettered ‘brat’ in black letters, decorated your torso, black cotton shorts hugging your hips. your feet placed in white socks and dark grey yeezy slides.

you approached the vehicle, more at ease being that she had illegally dark tints on her windows, preventing you from seeing her see you.

you opened the door, and as soon as you entered, all the memories came floating back instantly. the lights on the roof, the smell of weed and baccarat rouge mixed together, her hand rested on her lap, thumb and ring finger through silver ring bands. her seat laid all the way back. her looking at you like— that.

“hello, riana,” you say plainly, in a joking way.

“hello, y/n,” she replied, smirking inbetween the sentence.”

it’s silent for a second, before you decide you didn’t want this to be awkward, no matter how you felt previously. you made the conscious decision to fill up the air.

“so,” you began. “i’ve been summoned. what’s going on?”

“well don’t say it like that,” she replied. “I just wanted to check in, make sure you was ‘aight.”

“oh please, riana williams, check in?” she laughed in disbelief. “checking in tonight of all nights? it’s been months.”

“i mean shit, iono what you got going on,” she began, slowly leaning into what she knows best. mess. “you probably been up under some nigga or some, why would i interfere in that?”

“okay,” and that was your cue. immediately you get irritated and reach for the door, preventing this from going any further down the sinkhole.

“okay, okay, wait, wait,” she tugged on your arm restricting you from moving.

“no, riana, it’s always the same shit with you. this is what you called me outside for?” you spat.

“no! no, i’m sorry, I— i’m just,” she breathed for a second, trying to get herself and her words together. “I’m working on it. I’m a work in progress.”

you scoffed and folded your arms, leaning back in your seat. “yeah, okay.”

“i’m serious, y/n/n,” she called your nickname given by her. one you haven’t heard in so long, yet the sound of it was so familiar and so sweet on your ears.

“I did, and said a lot of fucked up shit to you, when we were together, I can admit that,” her intoxication began to aid the word flow out of her brain and through her vocal cords.

“together? i was never your girl. remember? those were your words.” you shut down her insinuation.

“and that was another mistake I made, if not the biggest. i should’ve made you a priority and stayed consistent, I’m sorry, y/n/n. you deserved way more than I gave you,” her confessions began to roll out slowly but surely.

hearing her words and the sincerity in them made your eyes fill up with tears, playing tug of war with your need to stay tough and the need for release. to take that weight off your chest.

immediately she senses the tension around you and places her hand on your thigh and grips firmly.

“well, why’d you take so long!” the jig is up. the pain is all throughout your voice, tears beginning to flow out. “why’d you take so fucking long to realize that, riana?”

“y/n—“ she begins, fighting her own tears herself.

“i loved you. i love you, I’d give my last to you, you made me look like a fool and I STILL chose you. you’d make me feel like I was on top of the world and the next minute you’d rip the ground right from underneath me. and crashing down I came. still wanting you. still needing you.” you express, each word lifting a brick off of your chest.

“i don’t know, okay!” ri blurted out, choking on her words. “i’m fucked up, i’ve been fucked up for a long time. i could never keep or maintain a good thing in my life because i’d be waiting for it to end or for it to be thrown in my face. i’d want one thing in my mind and something totally different comes out my mouth. but it’s you, it’s always been you,” you stared through her bloodshot red eyes, finally receiving the truth and holding onto every word.

“you lit a fire under my ass, you forced me to look at myself. no one has ever done that to me—FOR me before. you make me crazy. you make me want to be a better person. you make me want to destroy ever person even SLIGHTLY responsible for causing you pain, including myself,” her face was glistening, wet tears reflecting off the brake lights of the car parked in front of her. she didn’t give a fuck how she looked anymore.

“i spent every night since we parted ways replaying all the things i’ve done to cause our separation over and over and over, drowning in my reality. I’d take it all back, good and bad, just to see you smile at me the first time you ever did. there was so much love in your eyes. and i watched it wither away, piece by piece. And i’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

you reached over and held her by the sides of her face, wiping her tears with your thumbs and gently kissing her lips. the sensation of your soft, warm lips made her cry even harder. the first time she felt that hug in months. nobody felt like you.

you hopped over into her seat and straddled her, not breaking the kiss. her hands roamed down your sides and over your ass as she pulled you closer to her. if she was dreaming, she’d be taking advantage of every moment.

you began to slightly move your hips along her leg, whining in her mouth, her mimicking your sounds in equal bliss and pain.

she wrapped her hand around the end of your braids and tugged slightly, exposing your neck and leaving soft, french kisses all along the middle.

“riana,” you breathed out.

“baby, please,” she pleaded. “let me fix it.”

you wanted to let her tear you apart. destroy your clothes and do away with them. you wanted to take out all your hate and love for her out on her body. you wanted to go right back to the every day you knew it as.

but you knew better. you learned better. y/n today is not the same y/n from months ago.

“i love you, riana.” you confessed aloud and hopped back into the passenger side.

“but I can’t let you back in. not this way. not right now.” you set your boundary, no matter how much it hurt. and decided it was time to go. you had overstayed your stay.

head down, eyes low, she just woefully nodded. she understood and she had to respect it. she made her bed, it was time to lay in it. but she would never give up.

“hey,” you bent down in her vision after stepping out the car. “we’ll see each other again. under better circumstances. bye, ri.”

you closed the door and headed back to your apartment, shedding more and more silent tears.

ri layed in the driver side seat in agony. counting down the days until that day. the last thing she wanted to say to you playing over and over in her head.

“i love you too, y/n. so fucking much.”

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Five

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (fem OC)

Warnings: Anxious Themes (includes a Comforting scene), Mild Meltdown (I don't want to say a panic attack because it isn't really) Mentions of Grieving, the most brief mention of funerals, silly&friendly bullying, drinking/alcohol (we know the drill), Fluff oh the fluff, & Jake yearns a little more (shocking).

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: After caving and finally asking for help, Jake doesn't know what to do with himself until she shows up. Which takes a big ol' turn for ... well, I guess we will find out, won't we? 🤭

Author's Note: If we're being completely honest, this was the first chapter I wrote, of this story. I knew exactly how I wanted this day to go and I couldn't stop myself when I thought of the idea. It's what fueled the bulk of the storyline and I really hope you guys love it as deeply as I do. 🥹

Clocks Go Forward - James Bay "Stay warm, close your eyes, let time fly, Stay close, stay right here, nothing to fear."

I slide my phone back into my pocket. Staring at it isn’t going to make her reply, Jake. I’ve been at the bar trying to figure out this paperwork for a while, and well, I’m lost. My hands keep finding their way to the back of my head as I read through these documents; I need to focus on something else. 

“Hey, how are you?” I say in passing some day-time regulars of ours. I collect any empty cans or glasses that I can, anything to keep me busy at this rate.  

I wander behind the bar, setting all the glasses in the dirty bin.

“Jake.” 

I look over to Josh, who’s wiping out a glass.

“Why don’t you just go get some lunch or something? You’re stressing me out being here.” 

“Is it really that bad?” I ask, running my hand through my hair. 

A laugh erupting from him says enough. 

“Okay, alright, I’ll leave you alone,” I tell him, “Just let me know if you need anything.” 

Reluctantly sitting back down at the desk in my office, I find myself with my head in my hands for a moment. You’re going to be okay. You’re new at this, and it’s okay to mess up. She’s giving you time to take care of everything. 

After a deep breath or two, I opened my laptop and pulled up my email. I decided that maybe spending some time doing mindless admin work would help distract me from the inevitable problem. 

I’m flying through these emails by humming along to whatever customers have chosen for the jukebox. Looking at the time in the top corner, 2:30 pm. 

She still hasn’t replied. Maybe she’s working with someone else right now; just be patient.  

I walk back into the bar, seeing a handful more people come in. I wave slightly to the regulars who like to camp out in the corner. They enjoy sneaking away from work for a few hours; “Lunch beers” is apparently what they call it.  I laughed the first time they told me about it, but as they continued the tradition, I understood it more and more. 

Looking to the corner of the bar, I see Quinn. I can’t help but watch the two of them for a minute with a grin plastered on my face. Seeing my brother so happy makes my heart swell daily, and Quinn is perfect for him; I can’t deny it. They just know how to handle him and reign him in when he’s being a bit too much. Which is more often than not. 

“Do you two want to go grab lunch?” I ask, slinking my arm around Josh’s shoulders, “I think I can handle the rowdy folk we have here.” I shoot a wink at the few customers sitting next to Quinn. 

His eyes light up, “You don’t have to ask me twice. Let’s go, bug!” 

I don’t think he could have left any quicker if he tried. Immediately, hand in hand with Quinn, and practically pranced out of the bar. 

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“And a squirrel fell down my chimney into my fireplace!” 

I nod with a quiet “mhm,” glancing at my phone hidden under the bar. 3:15 pm. I'm trying to look interested in this story I’ve heard a few times. The older gentleman talking to me forgets that he’s told me the majority of the tales he has in his arsenal. But I don’t want to cut him off; he seems lonely, and the least I can do is humor him. 

Hearing the door chime, followed by Josh making his entrance. 

“Welcome back,” I chuckle as he walks swiftly towards the bar. 

“I need to use the lavatory, and then I will be ready to rock ‘n roll or whatever kids say nowadays,” Josh mutters. 

You would think he’s nine hundred years old with how he talks sometimes, but it always keeps me on my toes. Watching as he disappears around the corner, I grab the older man’s glass and place it in the dirty bin. 

The door chime goes off again, causing my head to whip around. 

Oh, she’s here..?

As Charlotte slowly walks to the bar, I go to meet her at the opposite corner. I pull my phone out; she never replied? 

“I didn’t think I would see you today,” I start as she approaches. Leaning down to grab everything I had been looking at, I stowed away when I couldn’t focus anymore. 

“I have been reading through all of these, and I think you’re gonna need to explain these to me like I’m five–” I stop. I hadn’t looked at her face the entire time, and her eyes were pink and looked a bit swollen. She’s not making eye contact at all, which seems odd compared to the other afternoon, where I thought if she held my gaze any longer, I would explode. Was she crying? I questioned myself. I hope I didn’t cause this. Was she supposed to be off today? Oh my god, what if I’m the only reason she’s working? 

Finally pulling myself out of my head, “Are you okay?” 

She takes a shallow breath before looking up at me, and I can see that her eyes are fighting the urge to let the tears fall. 

“Um,” she swallows, looking back down, “Yeah, I’m fine.” Her raspy voice is so quiet I can barely hear it. Her lip quivers as she stands there, and I can see the way her breathing is picking up. Oh no, oh no, oh no.  

I hear the door to the bathroom open. Turning around, I shoot Josh a look. He makes eye contact with me as I bounce my eyes to Charlotte and back to him. I watch as he glances at her quickly, his eyes widening as if to say, ‘Do what you need to.’

I come out from behind the bar, grabbing her bag from the barstool it sat on. 

“Come with me,” I whisper to her; she just nods in response. 

I gently place my hand on her back, guiding her down the hall to my office. Just long enough to round the corner into the small room, she lets out the tiniest whimper I’ve ever heard. I toss her bag onto the chair, facing her as she finally breaks down. Her hands fly up to hide her face as she lets out the most heartbreaking sound. One sob was enough for me; I pushed the door closed behind her and pulled her into me.  

“Oh, honey,” I let slip out, holding her small frame tight against me as she cried. I listen to her sobs against my chest as I run my hand down the back of her head, holding her close. I close my eyes to help focus my breathing; being in these situations never gets easier and I’ll never understand how I always end up in them. 

“Take a breath for me,” I said quietly, trying to stay calm for her. I can feel her take a deep breath and shakily release it. Her arms drop from her face, finding their way around my back. Grabbing at my shirt gently, like she’s afraid I'll let her go.  

“I’m right here. Take your time,” I whisper, pressing my lips gently to the top of her head, “You’re okay.” 

We spend a few minutes like this. I keep rubbing slow circles on her back, resting my face against the top of her head to keep her tucked in. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask. I feel her shake her head ‘no’ before turning her face and leaning back against me, reaching up to push the hair out of her face. She lets out another shaky breath. 

“I‘m so sorry,” she mumbles into me. 

“Don’t apologize for having emotions.” 

I lean back to look at her, her breathing starts to feel more normal.

She looks tired.

I don’t know what comes over me when I reach up, holding either side of her face and gently wiping the tear stains on her cheeks away. 

Our eyes finally met; she really was beautiful— crying or not. 

Her gaze doesn’t falter, her green eyes locked on me. She almost makes me nervous, not in a mean or intimidating way, but like I shouldn’t be allowed to look at someone who looks like her.

“Do you want to um-” I hesitate, “go get something to eat? While we talk about things. Not like a d-”

Despite her watery eyes, she huffs out a laugh.

“Stop,” she says, “I know what you mean. Yes, let’s do that.”

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We walked into the restaurant, and considering it’s only 4 p.m., it’s not very busy. I let her pick where we sit, following behind as she chose. She had a soft smile on her face as she claimed the booth seat like she just won a prize.  

“Hi, can I please have a Boulevardier? ” Charlotte politely orders, my eyebrows raised at her choice. 

“Actually, I’ll take the same thing,” I tell them, “Thank you.” 

Charlotte pulled out the paperwork, flipping through it to see what I had left. Watching her green eyes flit across them, setting aside anything that needs more attention. The way that she chews the inside of her lip while she’s reading is endearing. 

“Okay, so you haven’t missed too many things.” She tells me. 

“Oh good,” I start picking at my lip, “I’m sorry, I just didn’t realize how much was involved.” 

“That’s alright, Jacob. It’s a lot, and nobody generally explains this part of business to you.” Normally, I would cringe at my full name being used, but I just want her to keep saying it. 

She pulled out one of the papers and turned it to face me. She pointed at the part I hadn’t filled out. 

“So essentially, this means–” She begins explaining. Her eye contact is intense while she talks, which makes it incredibly hard to focus. I feel myself slowly smiling as she’s telling me. I glance at her mouth quickly, making it even more challenging to pay attention. 

“What?” 

Damnit. I raised my eyebrows with a small ‘mmm’. 

“You looked like you wanted to say something?” She questions. 

 “Oh, I’m sorry– no, I was just listening.” There are a lot of things I could say.

“Oh– Well, anyway,” she shakes her head a little before continuing to explain. 

I really wish that I could tell you what she’s explained to me at this point, but to be completely honest, I have no clue. I’ve been far too distracted by the freckles on her nose and the way her eyes twinkle under these lights. I can’t get over the green of her eyes, with subtle gold flecks in them. Her hair is perfectly curled, and how the color of it stands out against her blazer.  She is unreal.

“Are you planning on doing that?” She asks, immediately pulling me out of my thoughts. 

“Yeah, absolutely.” 

“Great, Melody will really benefit from that,” she tells me. Benefit from what exactly?

“Do you need me to send you the information on that?” she quickly asks, grateful I’ll at least have context on what I’m agreeing to. 

“Please, if you could,” I say quietly as I rub my eyes.  

Our server stopped our conversation to take our order, giving me a second to try and refocus myself. She is trying to help you and isn’t being an asshole about it. The least you can do is pay attention to what she’s actually saying. Get it together.

“Okay anyway,” she starts again, “I think that’s everything?”  She sifts through the papers.

“Amazing,” I breathe out. “I’m sorry I made you come out here to help.” I sit back in my chair, my hands falling into my lap, where I quietly dig at the side of my thumb. 

“No, it’s okay, really,” she says, not making eye contact this time. “I was already in Portland, so it worked out.”

Her eyebrows pulled together as she told me, but I knew I shouldn’t ask. If she wanted to tell me what was wrong, she would. I’m not going to make her cry again.  

“Well, I’m glad I caught you at the right time then,” I say, offering a small smile. Her face softens a bit, and she leans forward, propping herself up. 

“So, how long ago did you buy the bar if it’s not even a year old?” 

“About two years ago, actually,” I tell her, “We took our time renovating it to feel right.” 

“We?” 

“All the boys helped me, but Josh really did the most with making it look the way it does.” I usually have no issue talking about the bar, but her being even vaguely interested has my brain stalling. 

“I love that. He did a good job curating,” she says, “Was the goal to be pirate-esque, or did it just end up that way?” 

I chuckle, “No, it was intentional. I’ve always enjoyed pirates, even as a kid, so I felt like it just made sense.”

“I think it’s nice that you made it your own. There are enough modern hipster bars in the area. It’s a refreshing thing to walk into.” 

Her compliment made my heart beat a little harder. I’m never one to assume, but she doesn’t strike me as someone who would hang out in a bar like mine. Granted, I guess I can’t really picture her hanging out in bars in general, but maybe that’s because I have always been a fan of the smaller, more dive bars. And I can confirm that I’ve never seen someone of her caliber in any of them. 

Once our food is brought out, I ask her about how she got into working for the state. We quietly chatted about some of the situations that she’d walked into, which unintentionally made me feel much better about my slip-up. But simultaneously, it made me realize how terrible men can be. I can’t imagine yelling at her regardless of what she told me. People are awful. 

The server brings over the check, and without hesitation, I slide my card into the little black folder and hand it back to them with a quiet, ‘Thank you.’  I bring my attention back over to her, her eyes a little wide but going back to normal as she continues telling me about another bar owner being a complete ass. 

I fill out the slip, leaving cash for the tip, before looking up at her.

“Ready?” I ask. She just nods a few times before sliding out of the booth. I wave my hand in front of me, “After you m’lady.” 

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“So, how far do you live from here?” I try to make some form of small talk on the way back to her car, avoiding the elephant in the room. 

“I live in Skowhegan, so it’s a little hike,” she tells me, looking around at the area’s architecture, “but my family has a house on Sebago Lake, so it’s not as bad when I have to come down here.” 

“Oh, I'm sure it’s peaceful over there.” I imagine how quiet that lake house must be this time of year. With minimal people vacationing or trying to fish on the lake, and it’s probably gorgeous in the mornings. 

“It really is,” she says, looking down at her feet for a second, “Do you live close?”

“I actually live above the bar,” I laugh every time I tell someone, “I know that probably seems ridiculous.” 

“Convenient, at least,” She giggles softly before looking at me with a smile. Oh, I’m gonna throw up. 

“It’s a blessing and a curse,” I tell her, “Blessing when you can just roll out of bed and run downstairs if you oversleep, but a curse when I find myself in there most days.. And nights.” Pointing at the crosswalk, nobody was coming; I placed my hand on the small of her back as I led her into the street, shit, carefully pulling my hand back as she stepped off the sidewalk. 

“You don’t get sick of being there?” 

“You would think so, but no. I love it, even if working with my brothers can be an absolute chore sometimes.” I tell her. 

She grabs my arm gently.

“I think that’s great, Jacob. It’s refreshing to hear someone love their job in this industry. It’s few and far between.” I glance over at her as she says it; my stomach has little knots forming as she squeezes my bicep a few times before pulling her hand back.  

She points to her car, parked just a short distance ahead of us. I see her pulling her keys from her bag as we approach it, unlocking the doors. I open her door for her, watching her face redden a little at the gesture. As she’s settling into her seat, I notice a brochure-looking paper in her passenger seat before realizing there’s a photo on the front. And a name. Oh my god, Charlotte. That’s why she was so upset. 

Setting her bag down in front of the pamphlet, she turned back to me with a soft smile, “How much should I send you for food?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. 

“But, Jacob..” 

“It was my idea. I’m not going to make you pay for that.” Also, it’s the least I can do, especially now.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Well, thank you for the food and walking me back here. I’m pretty sure I would have gotten lost.” 

“Of course,” I tell her, “Drive safe.” 

I go to close her door for her, and I don’t know what possessed me when I hesitate, “Actually—” what are you doing? “Let me know when you make it home? Just since it’ll be a little later.” 

She nods subtly before saying, “Okay,” with a quiet laugh. 

I bite at my bottom lip as I smile at her, gently shutting her door for her. 

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“Now, where have you been?”

 I haven’t even made it fully behind the bar, and I’m already getting harassed.

“It’s nice to see you too, Linda,”  I laugh under my breath, “I had to take care of some paperwork, but I’m here now.” 

Raising an eyebrow, she looks from me to my right, where Josh stands with a shit-eating grin. Oh, fuck me. 

“And how was that paperwork, brother?” He says joyfully, emphasizing his skepticism with heavy air quotes. 

And, here we go. 

“The paperwork went well,”  I side-eye him, “Thank you for asking.”

I watched the two of them share a look before looking back at me, and all I offered was a shrug in response. 

“Why were you not in your office doing paperwork?” Linda questions as Eleanor joins her at the bar in their usual spots. 

“Who wasn’t in the office?” Eleanor chimes in. 

“Jake! He apparently went somewhere with someone to take care of paperwork,” Linda fills her in, like two school girls at lunch. 

Rubbing my hand across my face, I turn around to dry some glasses while I’m interrogated further. I should have known my being nice to her would have me questioned. 

“Well, that sounds like he went on a date,” Eleanor unknowingly agreeing with their past statements. Josh is the most enormous pain in my ass, I swear to god. 

“It wasn’t a date!” 

 Josh laughed, “That sounds like something someone who went on a secret date would say.” I feel my body warm the more they talk about my “date.” WHICH WASN’T A DATE. 

“Well, who paid?” Linda asks. 

“Uhh… I did,” I hesitated to answer. “But- it was my idea to go there, so I didn’t want to make her pay anything.” 

“Oh! You went with a girl?” Eleanor quietly questions.

“Yes, I needed help with some business stuff, and she was able to help me,” I tell her. “If she hadn’t come in so upset, I would have just been here the whole time.” 

The ladies look at each other and then back at me before Eleanor pipes back up, “So what you’re saying is, I just need to come in here crying to score a date with you?” 

A laugh falls out of me before I can even process what she’s said; at least someone has a sense of humor about all of this. 

“That’s very nice of you to take her to lunch to try and help cheer her up, sweetheart,” Linda tells me. I smile at her compliment before putting away some of the glasses I had been drying. I feel Josh’s presence before he says anything, just setting some dirty glasses in the bin below the counter. 

“Is she okay?” he whispers, leaning over to make sure nobody else heard. 

“I don’t know, honestly,” I tell him, knowing I sound a little panicked about it. 

“Did she say why she was upset?” 

I shake my head ‘no’ before leaning over, “I saw one of those printouts you get at funerals in her car, and she was wearing all black, so I’m assuming that she uh—” 

Josh covers his mouth and turns to look at me. If there’s one thing I know about my brother, it’s that he will absolutely empathize with anybody about anything. 

“Oh shit,” he murmurs under his breath. 

I can’t hide the look of concern on my face as we stare at each other for no more than a few seconds. 

“She’ll be alright. You probably just caught a wave of grief, is all.” Josh says, grabbing my arm and giving it a few squeezes. 

I let out a small breath. He’s right. She probably just hadn’t really let anything out, and I just asked the wrong question. 

“You’re right,” I whisper back, patting the back of his hand on my arm, “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”  But that isn’t going to stop me from worrying. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Business picked up shortly after that, with all the tables full and chatter loud. It kept me from my thoughts, which is probably for the best. I’m grateful that Linda and Eleanor came in tonight; they always keep me busy. 

I take small breaks from behind the bar to go check on the tables of people, collecting the empty glasses and bottles; sometimes, it’s nice to just mindlessly clean up. I spend a few minutes making small talk with some of the regulars, noticing the time as one of their phones lights up. 

11:30 p.m. already? Where did the night go?  I leave the table with a slight wave and head back to the bar to leave the dirty glasses. Setting them all on the back counter, I can tell Josh is caught up in whatever the ladies are telling him. 

Rounding the corner into the hall, I quickly lock myself away in the bathroom. Pulling my phone out immediately, relief washes over me when I see her name sitting in my notifications. Thank god. 

Charlotte: I made it home. Thank you again 

Jake: I’m happy to hear that and of course

Jake: I hope everythings okay.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I head back into the bar. She’s home, at least there’s that. 

“You can go if you want. I can handle the rest of the night,” I tell Josh quietly. He’s been here all day, and I definitely didn’t intend for him to cover the bar for that long. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Please, go get some sleep or call Quinn. Just get out of here while you can.” 

He hands me the towel he was using and mouths ‘thank you’ as he slides by me; I really can’t blame him for being excited to go to bed. It’s been a long day. 

The rest of the night seemingly flew by. A fair number of people, including Linda and Eleanor, left by 1 am, which meant I had to clock into my true Customer Service self for the last hour of the night. But it’s always nice when people start to trickle out early so that I can start cleaning up to close and make my life a little easier. 

I’m leaning against the back counter talking to the last few customers, and I can’t help but let my mind wander. What if she’s still upset? There’s nothing I can do to help that situation, and that’s okay. Maybe she just needs a friend right now. I could do that?  Or maybe she’s already told her friends, and Josh was right. Was she just having a moment? Oh god, what if she has a boyf- 

My phone vibrates, pulling my attention away from my internal spiral.  1:57 a.m. Thank god.

Charlotte: It will be, i’m sorry that you had to witness that.

Jake: don’t apologize, i’m glad i was able to help..i hope?

Charlotte: It did help, truly. 

That makes my heart feel a little weird. Don’t get ahead of yourself. 

Jake: well.. if you need anything, let me know? 

I set my phone down underneath the bar and started printing the tabs for the last customers who were sitting. I went through the motions as I put the papers out front of each of them with a pen. I watch as they sign on the line, possibly leaving a tip; either way, I’m not bothered. Leaving with a friendly ‘Have a good one,’ I follow behind them, locking the doors and shutting off the neon lights. Happy to know that I have hardly anything left to do. 

The brisk air hits me as I lock the back door, and I practically run up the stairs. Opening the door, it’s quiet. He must be asleep then. I carefully walk through the apartment, cracking his door open to see him tucked away in bed. 

“Goodnight, Josh,” I whisper, pulling his door shut gently. 

I shut my door as softly as I could, immediately pulled my flannel off, and tossed it on the end of my bed. Followed by my jeans before I grab my phone from my nightstand. 2:34 a.m. I open my messages to see her name sitting there with the blue, unread messages dot glowing back at me. 

Charlotte: I may take you up on that.

Why is she still awake? It’s so late. 

Jake: I hope you do

Be more obvious, Jake, come on.. 

Jake: Also why are you still up? lol

It changes from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’ almost instantly. I watch the typing bubbles pop up, making my stomach turn. 

Charlotte: I just haven’t been tired enough to sleep, but I think I’m getting there.

Jake: After everything, I figured you’d be exhausted

Charlotte: You would think lol 

Dropping my phone next to me. I rub my hands down my face. Trying to get the look on her face just before she cried out of my mind. ‘I’m so sorry’ in her sad little voice, playing on a loop. The sounds of her sobs against my chest, her shaking in my arms. I almost wish that I didn’t know why she was upset now. 

Jake: well don’t let me keep you up

This time, my message sat on delivered for a few minutes. I did my daily scroll on mindless apps and looked at the few new photos people had tagged the bar in before she replied. 

Charlotte: You’re not a bother at all, but I should probably try to sleep before it gets too much later.

Charlotte: Goodnight Jacob

My mind ran through all the ways that I could reply. How I’d love to tell her that I’m sorry for her loss and that I hope everything gets better. Even that, I had a lovely time talking to someone outside of my family and their partners for more than a few minutes as I served them a beer. It felt like we could be friends even, with the way she didn’t seem phased by any of the vaguely nerdy things I said. Unfortunately, my hands settled on something more straightforward, and I quickly hit ‘send.’

Jake: sleep well, Charlotte 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Four

Chapter Six

FDOG Masterpost | Masterlist | FDOG Playlist

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[ana-chronista]

Who picks out matching ugly sweaters?

Who is bad at ice skating and keeps falling on their butt?

Who wants a kiss under the mistletoe?

With Jan/Jure please 😊

Thank you for the ask! 😊

Who picks out matching ugly sweaters? Jure, for sure. He’s got an amazing knack for finding the weirdest and most over-the-top sweaters known to man in the depths of the Internet. Jan usually looks at the results with a poorly hidden smile, saying “eh... could be uglier, I guess”, which promptly sends Jure back out on his quest. Who is bad at ice skating and keeps falling on their butt? Jan. You’d expect Jure because he’s more prone to throwing himself into new situations, but over the years that’s actually given him a lot of practice that turned into some level of skill. Jan... not so much. But he’s decided to keep up with Jure, so he’ll improve! Who wants a kiss under the mistletoe? Jure’s the one who hangs it up and half-jokingly makes a huge deal out of it, sometimes ambushing Jan with it when he enters the room. Even if he doesn’t initiate all these shenanigans, Jan’s an enthusiastic participant – some traditions need to be honoured, right? 🤭

[faithfromanewperspective]

It seems like no coincidence that you sent me an ask right after I had a brooding session that led to me wanting to send you an ask. Here we are 🤭

Mine's unrelated to music and chronic illness though: I wanted to get your view on what being Australian is to you. Who are we? What are we? I've been having this identity crisis all my life because my ancestors are immigrants from everywhere, with different cultures, and I feel like I don't belong here despite how the land has also shaped me into who I am.

Sometimes I think at the core of the culture of Australia is loneliness/isolation and I also wanted to know your take on that too.

Hope you're well, lovely 💛💛💛

ooh. wow. hmm. i'm... not doing great as you can probably tell by the time at which i'm posting this. but i surprisingly have a lot of thoughts about this.

for me, it's a connection to one of the oldest lands there is--i've studied a lot of geology, i've had to for my degree, and because of the lack of volcanic activity for so long our land, everything about it, is real old, and that's something i have a lot of respect and reverence for. i've also been drawn to Indigenous culture and Indigenous land stewardship for the longest time: the community, the spirituality, the sense of survival and justice, the shared resources, the storytelling, the art, the connection to the land. i'm not the least bit indigenous to anywhere really so i don't really know why, but you've made me realise something writing this, i should start to go seek that out a bit more and find community and stuff in it, it might be part of what i'm longing for.

diversity and a loss and reconstruction of identity is i also think part of it too. we are so diverse, aussies are from everywhere, from those who were born to a long line of stewards of this great land, to all those who came to it from everywhere: all parts of europe, asia, new zealand--everyone's family has a story of how they came here and why, of a brand new start for one generation, and everyone after having to go through putting together the fragments and figuring out who they are, reinventing it as they face new things compared to what any of their ancestors ever have. in a way it's about deciding again and again to rediscover your home culture/s and figure out how to fit them into a context of diversity, find your people or bring a new tradition to your people, but also take tradition lightly in terms of it has to fit around survival in harsh conditions, it always does, practical comes first which I'll get into but i'd say part of it is navigating the patchwork of cultures and realising yours is never going to be everyone but also no one can take it away from you, realising that because they try, but ultimately no one who does that will ever succeed. not even the colonisers who generations down have made us forget a lot of our Indigenous culture and feel empty as a result; if you're here on this land you've got some responsibility to care for it and every generation longs for something we don't quite have: this is where it's so useful to have other cultures around, because we need to learn from each other. we do so much better when we do. (alternatively, say you grew up in sydney without saying you grew up in sydney. it's a whole world there if you haven't experienced it).

but I would say that not only loneliness and isolation but also loss of identity are core to being Australian. questioning it and finding it again, being nothing like you ever imagined. there's a lot of generational trauma written into this land that's going to take quite a while to recover. we've all left it behind in the past, we've more often than not experienced some degree of violence in doing that be it from colonisation and the way the cities we have now (aussies are drawn to cities, the stats show us as one of the most urbanised places in the world, no matter what the stereotypes are) being Not Born Of Indigenous Input to violence of poverty and being driven to crime then shipped halfway across the world away from loved ones, to violence of displacement from other lands from poverty or war or overpopulation. we're all kind of unmoored even though many don't ever show it, we're all coming from a place of having lost that deep connection to self and either trying to find it or not bothering and I think it does really show in the way we connect to each other, the way we connect to the land, the misunderstanding and exploitation and often trying to be something we're not.

but i'd also say our strength is in our survival. we're good at coming together in natural disasters, we're often really creative when it comes to getting by, we're hard working, we know we're entitled to nothing. it comes when you've lived in conditions like ours: poor soil, harsh weather--be it drought or too much rain, we've been there, we've seen it, every year and every season is like we jump to a different climate zone, our agriculture isn't suited to our climate or our soil and our cities aren't planned but we get by anyway. we're hardworking and humble and when you put an aussie in another country and another setting you really see that. and we do it like it's nothing and still think it's nothing and don't understand compliments on it, we're self-deprecating like that. survival happens if we all do well enough to get by, independence leads to interdependence, and as a result we don't like people who take too much and we want those who are struggling to succeed. we aren't all like that, sure, but you see someone trying to get ahead and getting up themselves because of it? they won't last long as an aussie. community can and will ostracise them and no one's gonna feel bad. we hate our politicians but we have them anyway. we don't let them get too big-headed, we know they will, we have artists specifically employed to make fun of them. we're not perfect at this but they're older white men (problem) we don't feel bad about bullying them even if it'd be more productive to have a diverse group of people--but then we might actually feel bad about bullying them so that won't do. politics are for show anyway to get along with other countries. aussies don't care about anything we can't see with our own eyes and touch with our own hands, preferably holding a shovel or too-big set of tongs. 'she'll be right, mate' we say but really we just don't want to deal with it. why would we when getting by for ourselves is hard enough? don't talk about abstract concepts. but behind the survival if you break into that part of our minds that longs to be seen and cared for, you might have gotten our attention even though we will never admit that kind of vulnerability (it's why so many of us find western models of therapy etc so confusing. we're hardened folk)

there's a lot of negative but we kind of live with it i guess? we don't pretend it isn't the case. and sometimes we do something good. aussies invented permaculture, for example. i'm sure there are other things right there but i can't call them to mind right now. do you know what permaculture is? go have a look into it. it's one of my favourite things. in a more academic sense we invented water sensitive urban design and biodiversity sensitive urban design as well. and we needed to from a place of survival. it's the beauty of it, it's authentic and when it's there on the ground we can touch it so it's real and other countries can then see what we do and implement it themselves. with these things having popped up in recent years i think we're in a stage of transition as a nation, we're still a patchwork of confused cultural threads trying and failing at being european with our education and agriculture models--we haven't grown into ourselves yet. we haven't realised the potential of all the cultures we have to inspire something better. we still get a bit scared of each other. we still haven't figured out who we are--and personally, looking back at my family, generations of immigrants whose children become immigrants to somewhere else, i feel like there is a lot to discover that i have no idea how to find. how to internalise. my ancestors come from all over the world, and no one has had to pull together such a diverse range of ancestral and found cultural influences until me (i should give myself credit for that. and also not just talk about it but actually do it). and then when it comes to things like religion we're skeptical but also just long to be loved. and we'll take what gives that if we don't have to talk about it, but we won't take what limits us, and i feel like we're still figuring out how to lose tradition and hierarchy while keeping the heart of all the faith traditions we have here. another thing i should investigate. because we're still trying to be someone else i think, and it's not working. so to sum it up i think we're a whole lot of unfounded potential and messy sort-of functionality. no one does it like we do. not even us.

but this is coming from someone who is strangely really connected to everyone, like it's a bit of a weird talent and a little bit hippie (but aussies are hippies too, even though the hardened country folk would never admit it and the city folk don't have time for it and that leaves the label to tasmanians and northern rivers/byron coast folk who the rest of us associate it with). like i can connect with anyone for better or worse, and i do, i can't stop myself, but it's also tiring. who needs the autonomy and freedom of the bush and the novelty and connection and opportunity of our biggest cities. i'm well suited to my career i guess, but not so much self care! and yet. the reason i know how to survive is that it's handed down from ancestors from literally everywhere. we've all brought that and faced this harsh land in the last century, and now it's up to me to do that in a modern setting with modern problems like overpopulation and biodiversity loss.

and i'll also admit a lot of my conceptulisation comes from i am australian by the seekers. i generally sing/play the song without the third verse (or whichever one is about the war) because i find that in this moment in time it's not actually the biggest thing in aussie history that shaped us--it's more a global thing we were dragged into and we do better to leave it and instead think about ancient history, about the people who came with colonisation who weren't all bad individually though they were forced into a bad situation and became many of our ancestors, about the land as a living thing with a spirit, and about the things we create.

otherwise if you're looking for something that more captures what i think you might relate to being australian and some of the generational trauma you see around you that's so woven into our country if not your immigrant family who are trying to fit in but haven't yet specifically there's bloodline by luke hemmings. you know, because at the moment i can't shut up about him or his music.

anyway, do yourself a favour (heck, do me a favour) and get out of that country town of a suburb you live in. it's very insular, possibly one of the most insular places i've seen in this land and i've been to a lot of country towns and urban precincts. we love walkable cities but we yearn for more, more enrichment in the enclosure, and so literally, get on a train and go somewhere, anywhere, and notice things. notice how they do things there. and let me know if it feels good to do that. I will mail you a go card with money on it if that's what you need. go find yourself

[lazyflower48]

Trick or treat!! 🦇🥳👻🦇🦇

so in this game, I guess we give anything..

Roses are red Flowers are blue When I say, "a chill mutual" I'm talking about you

------ (-w- )🌹🌹

thanks for everything (ur kind words, interactions, etc 🤭)

love love love when u gave encouragement abt art. -- also when u said that u urself are a self taught digital artist who only started this year like whaaa?? (as someone who's only good at traditional drawing, that was quite inspiring hehe)

I hope ur doing well 💓💓💓💓

🫖🫖🫖 <<< here have some good vibes drink for whatever you're facing today :>>

***** also random (cheesy) pick up lines for halloween 🤭

1.) You don't have to alone. It can be you AN me

2.) I can be the lamp to your Nightshade

3.) Even if you're a lazy flower, you don't need to do anything to stand out to me. I could go to 48 other gardens and never find someone like you 🤭

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! 😂😂🦇🦇🦇🦇🎃🎃🎃

💓💓💓

Ohhhhmyyyygod I love this so much. I'm glad you felt encouraged about doing art! I know you can do it! As generic as it sounds, it'll take a bit of practice, but you'll get better eventually! And thank you too! It's really fun interacting with you. (One of my fave mutuals fr)

I absolutely LOVE the pickup lines. They're so amazing! A smooth operator fr :)))

I wanted to reply to this as soon as I received it, but I also wanted to come up with some pickup lines. In the end I couldn't come up with any lol. Wakanai any good pick up lines (help 💀💀)

I hope you have a wonderful day! Take care, my beloved mutual ♡

[classickook]

paper hearts blurb: wildfire

pairing: stephen strange x widow!reader

summary: stephen’s pov of that scene from part seven. (includes references to the lucky one.)

warnings: some swearing, mentions of sex, suggestiveness (kinda 18+).

word count: 1.2k

a/n: as requested, here it is! i hope this meets your expectations 🤭

series masterlist | main masterlist

(stephen's pov)

he had been watching you train all morning, admiring the way your lithe muscles flexed slightly beneath the burgundy fabric of your robes with each movement, your body rippling with charged energy, like a wild animal prowling beneath your skin just waiting to attack, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. he couldn’t imagine the years of training and self-discipline that had been ingrained in you until all of this became second nature and barely took any conscious effort. 

your palms were covered by the traditional leather wrappings used in these training sessions, specifically those in hand-to-hand combat. stephen knew you had more experience in that department than anyone else in the courtyard, but he wanted to see it—experience it—firsthand. he wanted to see you in action, just a glimpse of how skilled you were. not that he hadn’t seen it briefly in the past while on joined missions, but this scenario felt different; it seemed more intimate, just the two of you with no outward distractions or enemies to cut between you. 

maybe it was sadistic of him to practically torture himself by willingly putting him in such a position, but he craved it and you more than anything else. he knew you were dangerous and even downright cutthroat in situations that called for such a response, but he was drawn to it—to you—like a moth to a flame, and he wanted to be burned by you. 

stephen crossed the courtyard and approached you with his request to train in hand-to-hand combat, as expected by all apprentices learning the mystic arts. you, however, didn’t seem to understand the need for it, claiming that you had years of experience under your belt. regardless, it was required and he wanted to show off your skills to the other apprentices and masters scattered throughout the training grounds. they needed to realize just who they were up against, and that it would certainly be more beneficial for them to remain in your good graces. this way, maybe he could garner the respect and reverence you deserved from your fellow sorcerers, while also developing friendships with those of similar ranking. he had the feeling you probably hadn’t had many friends in the past besides natasha and yelena, and now america.

you scoffed at his suggestion, “really? you think that’s necessary?”

“it’s required of all students at kamar-taj to practice both mystical and physical aspects of training,” he answered, already knowing how this conversation would play out.

you smirked at him and he could practically feel your energy surging toward him from where he stood a foot away. “whatever you say, but i’m going to kick your ass, old man.”

his lips curve into a smirk at the insult, though it didn’t feel much like one coming from you. in a way, it almost seemed like your version of a term of endearment, much like your continuous use of ‘doc’ when referring to him; he wasn’t opposed to it in the least. “i’d like to see you try,” he said, egging you on.

from there, the two of you took on your beginning stances, and as he made a step forward, he could only watch with bated breath as you kicked off the side of the brick building to the right of you and lunged at him. you swiftly maneuvered him into a headlock between your thighs and flipped him onto the ground with you positioned firmly on top of him, lean arms holding down his upper half and thighs pressed on either side of his hips. he swallowed down the groan rising up his throat.

“still think i need that training, doc?” you smirked proudly.

he shifted beneath you in an attempt to buck you off, but you just pressed into him further, and so he completely submitted to you, remaining pinned to the cobblestones.

in that moment and in that specific position, he was reminded of the ‘dream’ he’d had, the one that had been circling around in his mind practically every time he saw you, like a video tape caught in a loop of the same scene over and over without moving forward. 

he remembered the feeling of your hands in his hair and your warm mouth around him. 

he remembered how it felt to have you on top of him, all soft thighs wrapped around his waist and squeezing his cock inside your wet heat. his fingers had curled into your hips, clutching you close and stabilizing the shakiness of his hands as you rocked onto him, back and forth until he swore he almost blacked out. 

these constant glimpses into his multiversal selves were both a blessing and a curse: knowing that, somewhere out there, he could fully be with you in the way that he had been wanting, but not able to fulfill that desire—that need—here, was enough to break him. he wanted you in every sense of the word, and it was driving him crazy to watch you from afar, unable to touch you. he wanted to have you in his bed with your lips pressed to his throat as you made him cum. 

get your shit together, he berated himself, but he just couldn’t help it; he felt like a fucking teenager whenever you were around. he loved your playful energy and teasing nature, he loved the feeling of you on top of him, all soft curves and fierce strength. the dichotomy of it didn’t escape his notice, and somehow, it made him fall in love with you even more; the way that you were so sweet and kind, especially with america, while also remaining strong-willed and slightly stubborn—god, and the way that you constantly teased him and pushed his buttons—it turned him on like he’d never experienced before. he felt truly alive for once, and it was all because of you. 

you were a wildfire, fierce and dangerous, but beautiful all the same. if he wasn’t careful, you might just burn him if he got too close or if he made a wrong move; but he didn’t care, he wanted to feel you, be consumed by you in every way. he wanted to feel the heat of you licking at his skin like the tongues of a flame. 

suddenly, you jumped off of him and back into your original stance, reaching toward him with a shaky hand to help him up, but he was certainly in no hurry to join you. his eyes had squeezed shut during that moment beneath you, caught in his dream slash fantasy, and he needed to work past the straining bulge beneath his robes before he truly blew it. 

a sharp exhale passed through his gritted teeth as he opened his eyes again to see you leaning over him, messy braid flipped over your shoulder and eyes bright and lips slightly red as if you had bitten into them. you were so fucking pretty, he almost came in his pants right there. 

enough!

stephen cleared his throat before pushing himself off the ground and rearranging his robes in a way that wouldn’t completely expose his raging erection to the entire training grounds. he positioned himself away from you and was already partially facing the other end of the courtyard, ready to escape and get himself under control. he had always been so composed and self-restrained, but then you came along, and he was like putty in your hands.

“good, very good,” he said stiffly, “continue on with the others for now,” and walked away, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging its contents while thinking of anything and everything that would get himself to calm down. 

oh, you were going to be the death of him. 

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