#Texts from Dakota

[wizardnuke]

looks around. anyone know why i have a call with ethics at 5. what'd i do. am i a witness

[textsfromcampwawanakwa]

Scott: Walk of shame time yet? Sam: Dude she's 6'2" blonde and on the cheerleading team. I look like Seth Rogen's fatter, unfunny brother. What shame am I supposed to be feeling?

[trans-yllz]

the thing about amtrak is that when you eat meals in the dining car you're seated with strangers and the thing about that is that sometimes they're very lovely and sometimes they're the worst guy on earth

[icezansky]

the way I got so fucking excited by Glen posting an SNL lineup just to be disappointed

[izzy-b-hands]

Cancelled the in person interview for today after discussing phone interview with Mum and Housemate last night (and the numerous red flags and cost of the lyft there and back for a job that ultimately the place wouldn't be able to convince me to take if offered, bc the general consensus was 'this is literally likely to be as bad as the current job BUT with the added cost of lyfts back and forth that they wouldn't be paying enough to offset, why on earth would you (me) take this job lmaooooo')

Which works out good bc the ongoing Mum trauma stuff is hitting hard as soon as I've woken and maybe I can get the Big Cry out today. Or write down any of the memories that have been playing on repeat in my mind

(with all this said, yes, I still asked and do legitimately care abt my mum's opinion and experience with jobs despite this; yes it feels weird; no I don't know how healthy that is or not lmao but I'm gonna lean towards Not Healthy bc im discovering that the work my previous doc did certainly uncovered this codependency and trauma which absolutely was a great help but like...we didn't actually really untangle any of it so I could try and untangle myself from my mum, even from 1600+ miles from one another. So. probably not healthy.)

[happyleech]

Miscellaneous Thrifted State Patches

[mxjackparker]

Working Guys: A Transmasculine Sex Worker Anthology is officially out today! We're published!

Those who've been watching this book through its creation may be tired of hearing me hype up all the contributors for this, but it's worth repeating. All of the 20 transmasculine sex workers in addition to myself who wrote about their experiences for this are amazing and have incredibly worthwhile stories to read.

"I genuinely think anyone who wants to talk or form an opinion about sex work needs to read this book, since it not only offers thoughts about transmasc people but also reflects about what sex work means in a society like ours and what reasons does someone have for engaging in it."

The book includes many kinds of sex workers, from those who sell sex in-person to professional dominants to Onlyfans creators. You can read the experiences of Felix Mufti, Dakota Nevaeh (18+), Eddy (18+), Sunan, Trip Richards (18+), Liam, Arc D, Julian Yang, Mister Saul (18+), Ron Beastly (18+), and many others!

"This is a diverse collection of work - from cutting analysis of the camming industry, statistics on violence against transmasculine sex workers, to personal stuff that reads like prose poetry. Care was taken to include minorities within the minority, especially people of color."

Such a huge proportion of transmasculine people have done some kind of sex work, yet awareness of this is low! As a sex worker myself who often struggles to be understood and has become frustrated with the lack of resources out there or things to read describing feelings and difficulties like my own, I'm so happy to have been able to put together this anthology. When I transitioned whilst selling sex and making porn, I'd have strongly appreciated a book like this.

"The "multiple texts" format is really easy to apprehend for people who's primary language is not english (like me, so sorry for the typos and such), compared to a huge essay in one block."

You can order a copy from most online book stores, or get an e-book here.

[theerurishipper]

Twitter AU Masterpost

I decided to compile a list of my Twitter posts, and just put in a little summary of what goes on in each so anyone who wants to can find whichever one they want.

Now also on AO3:

Part 1

Damian bullies Bruce and Dick messes with him, Bruce simps for Superman on main and Clark and Damian take on a hater in the replies, Jason wants to be verified and his siblings bully him a little.

Part 2

A fan of Nightwing's gets a picture of him and Robin and Red Robin battle it out in the replies while Flash stirs up shit, Donna posts a picture of Dick and the Fab Five take on a hater, Damian texts Dick about his profile picture, a lucky Gothamite snaps not one but two pictures of Batblob.

Part 3

Nightwing posts a picture and the people of Bludhaven take the time to appreciate him, Red Robin reminisces about kicking Red Hood and Red Hood gets bullied some more, Batman posts a picture of baby Robin!Dick and everyone coos over it, Riddler questions how Batman got his Twitter handle.

Part 4

A warning is issued for Gotham vigilantes about Batman and Catwoman getting busy and Nightwing's trauma about this is addressed, the debate over Batman's sex life is put to rest, Talia issues a clarification and sets the record straight, Gotham discusses Bruce's emo era.

Part 5

Lex hateposts about superheroes and Bruce annihilates him in the replies, there's an investigation into the matter of Luthor's handle, a mysterious troll makes an appearance, Dick questions Clark, Bruce reveals his and Clark's shenanigans from Dick's Robin days, and a hater is given even more power.

Part 6

Lex is salty and Lois and Clark tear him apart, Superman posts a picture and is accused of plagiarism, Nightwing starts a trend, Babs takes issue with her overuse of coffee being questioned.

Part 7

Oracle and Red Hood reveal the story of why Joker is banned from Twitter, the people of Gotham reminisce about an old tradition, Bruce gets roasted by Alfred, Damian has a wholesome interaction.

Part 8

Damian bonds with Dick and gets trolled by Steph, Spoiler finally creates an account, Spoiler poses a question to the people of Gotham, Batman is bullied by his kids and a billionaire.

Part 9

Spoiler gets a present, mistakes have consequences, Red Robin questions Nightwing's decisions, a resident of North Dakota has a life changing experience.

Part 10

Some well-meaning Gothamites stand up for Red Hood and Oracle gives a history lesson, an old face makes a less than triumphant return, the fab five have some fun, a relatable photo of Batman reveals something more and a new player enters the picture.

Part 11

Harley Quinn beats up Joker, Flash is disgusted by Nightwing, Batman's hypocrisy is revealed, Superman has some fun at Batman's expense.

Part 12

Black Canary fondly remembers a better time, Green Arrow confronts Batman, Green Arrow issues an apology, Oliver schemes and plots, a well-kept secret is finally revealed.

Part 13

Arsenal reveals a personal secret, the people discuss some new revelations, the fab five weigh in on Arsenal's problems, Nightwing takes a stand.

Part 14

The Gotham villains share some opinions, Two-Face and Riddler have an argument, Flash finally picks a side, Green Arrow evades responsibility.

Part 15

Some observers share some hot takes, the Superfam witnesses a breakdown, Lois asks Bruce for help, Dick puts an end to the ongoing feud, everyone starts to move on.

Part 16

Deathstroke shares a story of a failed assassination, someone loses their Twitter privileges, the Court of Owls tries to recruit Nightwing, Talon gets more than he bargained for, some very recent history repeats itself.

Part 17

Bruce is a meme, The League has some concerns about their monthly budget, Nightwing's personality confuses everyone who knows him.

Part 18

Bruce's mistakes reveal his most defining character trait, an early present for Superman causes chaos in the present, Superman's reactions to the goings on lead to some pleasant destructive results, Bruce's inability to understand memes is discussed

Part 19

Red Hood shares an embarrassing opinion, Red Robin starts an argument, Superman wins massively, the superhero community can agree on one thing.

Part 20

The villains discuss their least favorite Robin, Nightwing defends his pettiness, Red Hood endures some misplaced blame, Tim explains his masterful plan, Jason finally gets a win.

Part 21

The Court of Owls is humbled, Nightwing's friends face a problem, a culprit is found responsible, Arsenal gets in hot water.

Part 22

One of Bruce's childhood obsessions is revealed, Riddler tries to call out Batman and runs his mouth online, Riddler issues an apology, the Wayne kids' comments about Bruce eccentric habits reveals their own inadequacies.

Part 23

A tweet is posted by a concerning individual, the heroes find a surprising ally, Superman is the victim of a prank, Superman fires back.

[infamous-if]

Seven and Auggy jealousy got me wondering, what ROs display jealousy in the current update? I haven't gotten any flavor text that I know of, but the angstier the better

O gets a little jealous of August a few times. If you meet the stat, G doesn't like when L gives MC their number olmsjdjsjf there's also another moment on the plane with Dakota. It's really small, just one line, but there's a difference.

A romanced!August acts a bit weird with the other ROs but it's more that they're "sizing them up" they're not really the traditional jealous type. more traditionally competitive

Seven doesn't like MC with anyone so you won't see much of a difference in them. you'll see more of a difference in flavor text for sev later on

Seb and Victoria have been cool so far iirc that'll change when you see them more often since they'll be appearing more from now on

none of these moments are really huge to the ROs i feel like it's too soon for them to be genuinely super jealous plus half of them don't understand why they feel that way yet so it's pretty brief and they get over it pretty quickly !

i think the biggest moment is with O in the hotel room and that makes the most sense since O and MC have known each other a while at this point so it's not too soon for O to start acting out landjusadhashd

[frances-baby-houseman]

I would have bled out in the parking lot

Amber Nicole Thurman's death is on Trump's hands

Bess Kalb

Sep 17

In 2019, about six weeks after my first child was born, I found myself on the bathroom floor in a small, but nonetheless unsettling puddle of blood.

“Oh no,” I remember thinking. “I just did the laundry.”

I called out my husband’s name, but the sound caught in my throat. The pain I felt inhaling to get enough air out of my lungs to yell the two syllables in “Char-lie” jabbed my guts like a bicycle spoke to the abdomen.

So I was quiet, trying to keep breathing in a way that didn’t move anything inside me, and the pain pulsed a bit, then steadied, then dulled, then evaporated into whatever hell ether it came from.

Because there is no G-d (unless there is, in which case I abbreviated His name so as not to desecrate it, and also thank you, King of the Universe, for subscribing to this newsletter) this was the one time in my life I hadn’t brought my phone with me to the bathroom.

I decided to sort of slither-lumber to the door like a lame harbor seal, because I didn’t want to stand and loosen the spoke that had just stabbed me. I reached for the knob and let the door creak open.

The cat was there, looking at me right at eye level, keenly aware what was happening, and completely unmoved by it.

“You are dying,” he blinked, “Pity. Have a nice time.” He sashayed away.

Fortunately, our house in Los Angeles was small enough that from the bathroom door one could see everything. My husband was sitting on the couch with our infant, and I knocked on the open door to summon him. Within one one thousandth of a second, he set the baby on the (since-recalled) donut pillow and was holding my head.

I sat up. I breathed. No pain. I took a picture of the bloody mess on my husband’s phone, texted it to myself, he found my phone, then I texted the picture to my OBGYN.

Apologies for being graphic, but within the puddle there was something roughly the size and shape and color of a fig.

“Is this ok?” I said to my doctor, the bicycle spoke scraping lightly at my insides again from all the lumbering.

“Come in,” she replied.

Within two hours, I was in the waiting room of her office, accompanied by my terrified but SMILING mother, who was still, as is the Jewish custom, in town for “a few days or so” after the birth.

An ultrasound which felt like the finger of Satan himself revealed there was retained placenta in my uterus. If I hadn’t come in, there would have been more hemorrhaging, then sepsis, then whatever the cat foretold.

The next day, I was in surgery getting a Dilation and Curettage.

I went home, pumped the anesthesia milk, then fell asleep perfectly fine, my sweet newborn cooing merrily in the bassinet next to his alive mother.

Amber Nicole Thurman’s story was the same as mine, but it happened to her in Georgia in 2024, not California in 2019. She was a Black woman in a healthcare system that disproportionately kills Black women, especially postpartum. In 2021, the Black maternal mortality rate was nearly three times the rate it is for white women. Post-Roe, the toll is and will continue to be staggering.

Because post-Roe, the procedure that saved my life, the D&C, is something doctors cannot perform in states where matters of life and death have been left up to non-medical Christian-supremacist superstitions.

I know the pain Amber Thurman felt when that placenta dislodged and carved its tiny, treacherous hole in her uterine wall. I know the terror she felt when she saw the blood, and the rush of dread when she thought of what her child would do without her.

And when I vote in November for Kamala Harris and every progressive down-ballot candidate, I will do it because she can’t. And I will do it so that women in Georgia and Idaho and Texas and North Dakota and South Dakota and Utah, Arizona, Nebraska Iowa, Missouri, Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana, Florida, South Carolina, and West Virginia won’t have to meet the same completely preventable doom.

This election isn’t just about Amber Thurman. Every day of my lucky, breathing life is about Amber Thurman. Because the only thing that separates us, is one of us bled out under the right Supreme Court.

Let’s raise absolute federal hell about it.

-- From Bess Kalb's newsletter The Grudge Report. I pay for this substack -- though it's free-- and think this is a message worth sharing far beyond her newsletter.

[genderqueerdykes]

A passage from Reclaiming Two-Spirits: Sexuality, Spiritual Renewal & Sovereignty in Native America by Gregory D. Smithers.

[Image ID:

A photograph of a page from the book mentioned above, which reads:

"Language reclamation and renewal is key to understanding Two-Spirit storytelling. From Mesoamerica to sub-Arctic tribal communities, Native languages routinely avoided the use gender pronouns. Lakota speakers for example, tended to use the linguistically neuter "it" instead of gendered pronouns. Throughout Indian Country, distinctions of animate and inanimate, thing and person, human and more-than-human kinship, carried greater meaning than Western-style gender pronouns. The Hopi, who speak an Uto-Aztecan language, distinguish people and things not according to gender but according to the categories animate, inanimate and vegetable. Athabaskan speakers didn't historically use gender pronouns and as a consequence had what Europeans perceived as confusing gender distinctions. Among Dakota-speaking people, gender is understood in lots of different ways, but historically the language has never involved the use of gender-specific pronouns. And Iroquoian speakers, like the Cherokees, did not use gender-specific pronouns either.

These examples only scratch the surface of linguistic and cultural understandings of how Native Americans blended gender roles in and identities and engaged in sexual activity they considered normal and healthy. Traditionally, Indigenous people tended to avoid using anatomy or physical appearance as crude markers of gender. They developed much more complex social and cultural systems that made room for gender blending and sexual fluidity within kin-based communities.

The idea that an individual might blend multiple gender identities into their conception of self is an alien concept in virtually every Western culture. But when Europeans began invading the Americas during the late fifteenth century, most Native communities did not connect gender to to anatomical concepts of "sex" in the way we do today. Instead, Indigenous people blended occupational roles, physical characteristics and clothing, speech patterns and jewelry, and spiritual and... (text ends here)"

End image ID.]

[whoahoney]

Eddie from Chili’s Pt 3

Waiter!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: After weeks of talking and texting, the stars (and schedules) finally align and it’s finally date night. Buckle up, baby. 💖

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mature language, slight angst, reader is nervous af but so is Eddie, allusions to smut, innuendos, weed smoking, lots of kissing and fluff!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie wasn’t a stranger to romance, by any means. He’d taken quite a few girls out on successful evening adventures and had done (close to) it all— dinners, movies, picnics, carnivals, festivals, concerts, rock climbing, you name it. He took pride in his creative ideas, most of them ending very well with a sleepover or quickie in the car with promises of second or third dates.

But no matter the passion and intensity that fueled their date, one of three things always happened; it would fizzle out, there’d be no real connection, or they couldn’t handle his schedule.

Eddie seemed to attract the girls that always wanted an adventure, the kind that wanted a fairy tale romance with extravagance and constant attention, which aren’t bad things to want, necessarily, he just wasn’t equipped for it.

So tonight, as he searched his closet for something to wear, he doubted his plan for the hundredth time.

You didn’t seem like one of those girls. Based off his impressions of you, you’d like to be cozy at home with a good book or a movie to watch. But if he’d asked you to spend the evening at his place to do just that, you’d probably get the wrong idea.

He sighed and dragged his hands down his face, sitting down on his unmade bed with shirts and pants thrown haphazardly around the room. “Dak!” He called through his hands. “DAAAAK” he cried until his door flew open with urgency.

“What?!” His older brother asked.

“Help me.”

“What?” He deadpanned.

“Help me.” He sat up and dropped his hands, his state somber as he help up two shirts.

“You’re not serious.” Dakota looked him over. “You’re not actually nervous right now, are you?”

“Sadly, I am deeply serious.” He shook his head at himself, in disbelief and almost disgust, “And that’s why I can’t dress myself right now.”

“Look at me, man.” Dakota crossed the room and put his hands on Eddie’s tattooed shoulders. “That girl has got it so bad for you already.” Despite his brothers assurance, Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m serious!”

Eddie swatted away his brothers hands and walked over to the closet again, “Every time you look at your phone, you’re smiling.” Dak added.

“Not every time—“

“Every time it’s her, dumbass.” Dak rolled his eyes.

“So what?” Eddie grabbed yet another black band tee from the closet to look over.

“So! You act like you’re already in a relationship.”

Eddie scoffed, “How??”

“You haven’t been working your tables like you do!” Dak accused, and was already prepared with another reason before Eddie could roll his eyes one more time. “Those girls at brunch today! Two of them were making major eyes at you, one of them touched you and left a number and you didn’t do a thing!”

Eddie scoffed.

“—and I know you’re going out on the balcony at night to talk to her!” Dakota said with a smile, watching Eddie’s blush bloom.

“No, I just happen to be smoking when we decide to talk on the phone.” He shrugged and pulled the shirt over his head. “Thanks for nothing.” He pulled on his jacket and looked in the mirror.

Dakota rolled his dark eyes this time and sat on the bed, “Every night?”

“What? It’s not every night.”

“For the last two weeks, almost!” Dakota recalled quickly.

Eddie froze. It had been three weeks since you’d come back to the restaurant. Only three weeks had passed since he got your number and kissed you, actually kissed you. Since you’d started texting, the conversation hadn’t stopped.

You’d been great over the phone, your shyness only indicated by how long you took to type out a response, which he found very endearing, still. Your conversations ranged from the day to day of your work lives to why your favorite songs are your favorites, and who introduced you to your favorite snack and how you always have a bag in the cabinet. How certain books make you sit it down to take a breath and calm down and how you feel fictional things too viscerally sometimes.

Eddie loved that his phone was never dry anymore, finding himself lingering on every text bubble that bounced in wait for the next question you’d have for him. Girls seemed to ask the same questions, about his tastes and his history, but never why he still watches his favorite cartoon every night before bed or why he wears his moms rings on his right hand and not his left.

He hadn’t experienced this kind of infatuation before, so he tried not to count too much on it lasting—but it did.

“I like her! That’s not a secret!” Eddie says, sitting next to him to tie his shoes. Dakota smiles and looks down at Eddie’s glowing screen.

A notification from Snapchat with your name popped up, Dakota’s eyes going wide, “And you have her on snap?”

You’d added each other on snapchat before a week had passed, Eddie asking if you had one because he wanted to see your pretty face. You were thankful to not have to be the one to ask because you wondered about the same thing, he had the personality for it though, like he’d thrive on it or avoid it completely.

But Eddie liked snapchat. It wasn’t public, and his circle of friends were the only people he had on it. And now you were apart of that, too.

You loved watching his stories, the shenanigans he got up to at work and home were updated almost regularly. You’d seen him practice with his band, smoke in his car singing to music you’ve never heard, make drinks and salads at work with his hours in the caption and an invitation for his friends to “come see me, fuckers!!!!”

“My point is, little brother—

“Fuck offff—“

“—C’mon let me do my job.” Dakota looks at him pointedly. Eddie nods for him to continue. “No matter what you do tonight, she’s gonna have a great time. Cause it’s with you. And you guys already have a connection! I don’t recall you talking to anyone this much before a date.”

Eddie sighed and nodded. “You’re right.” He fought a smile by picking up his phone and opening the picture you took in a mirror.

‘Is this suitable? No scuba gear needed?’

Eddie chuckled to himself before he looked over your outfit in the frame and swallowed hard. You wore a fitted black skirt with a black knotted graphic tee, your legs covered by black sheer hose and black docs on your feet. You held a denim jacket in your hand and your hair was done the same way he’d seen it last.

He was thankful for the lack of time limit on the message, tempted to save it forever.

“My point proven.” Dakota stood and waved to the phone. Eddie groaned with a smile that Dakota returned.

“Stick to your plan, Ed, it’s a good one!” He called as he treaded down the hall, off to prepare for his own company tonight.

Eddie looked back down at the picture, at your lined eyes and glossed lips. He sighed and took a screenshot.

He flopped backwards on the bed, his arms flailed out and eyes closed before he had the idea to snap a picture of himself and draw x’s over his eyes.

‘So gorgeous you knocked me dead.’

He wanted to roll his eyes at himself, but he couldn’t because he had it on good authority it would make you smile.

And it absolutely did.

You fell into your couch, clutching your phone at the sight of him. His curls were perfect and his tattoos peeked out of the collar of his shirt. You groaned to yourself in agony—how dare he be so hot!!!

And funny!!!

He was always sending you something to make you smile—‘Avaca—don’t fuck with me” being one of your favorites he’d sent as he munched on chips and guac over his break one day.

But this one sent butterflies rushing through you, and they only multiplied when you saw he saved your picture.

You check the time, Eddie due to pick you up at 6:30.

It was 6:27, and as you get up to spritz some perfume, you hear a knock at your door. Your heart leapt, how long had you been sitting there looking at his face??

You grab your purse and shrug on your jacket as you run to open the door.

In the hallway he stood, 6’2” in boots that matched yours. “Hey, sweet girl!” His smile brightened as he greeted you, his heart quickening in delight when you threw your arms around him. He didn’t hesitate to bend down and hug you back. “I missed you.” He found himself saying into your hair.

“I missed you too.” You smile over his shoulder as his large hand rubbed your back.

He pulled back from the hug to let you lock your door and immediately offered his arm, “Right this way, milady.”

You chuckle and hook your arm through his. “So can you tell me where we’re going now?” You ask as you come to the elevator and he pushes the button. You’d brought it up a couple times in the weeks you’d been texting, determined to get a clue no matter how big or small.

But alas, Eddie was proving to be a good secret keeper.

He tsked and shook his head, “Nice try, sweetheart. But each location is highly classified and I’m not at liberty to divulge that kind of information.” The doors opened and he gestured for you to step inside first.

���But you literally are.” You say as he pushes the button for the bottom floor. He looks at you with mischief in his eye, one that sends your gaze downward and your cheeks blushing.

“Hey,” he says softly. You look up and find him closer, his hand landing on your shoulder, “No shy stuff tonight, okay?” He says gently. Not a demand, but an encouragement. “I want you to be comfortable with me.”

You nod at him.

“Yeah?” He asks in confirmation, to which you nod again. He takes your hand as the doors open and leads you outside to his car.

You should’ve known he’d drive a shiny blacked out camaro, the windows tinted darker than you thought legal. Eddie looked proud as he watched you take in his pride and joy he had detailed at his second job special for tonight.

You got to the door before he could, the man mentally scolding himself as he watched you buckle up while he climbed in and shut the door. He marked how pretty you looked sitting in his car, like that seat had been waiting for you.

Your skirt stretched deliciously over your thighs and rode up in the back as you settled, your fingers sat intertwined in your lap and picking at a hangnail absentmindedly as he starts the car, his music kicking on and the air conditioning blowing his air freshener through the vents, smelling like him.

“You sure you’re comfortable?” He asked, spying your hand and slipping his fingers between yours. Your hand relaxes into his and you give him a squeeze and nod, “Yeah!” You say, “I’m sure. Thank you.” You nod again.

Eddie narrows his eyes playfully, as do you with a poorly repressed smile. “You sure…” he says with suspicion in his tone.

You nod again with a soft smile, “Yeah.”

“…Can I have a kiss to prove it?” He asked, smiling when he saw you practically melt, your eyes dipping to his lips before you nodded and leaned toward him. “Thanks—” He mumbles before cupping your face and tilting you up to meet his lips for an innocent lingering peck. He pulled back and smiled at you when you noticed yours stayed closed for a few moments longer than his.

“Thank you.” You finally manage as he gently releases your cheek as if he didn’t want to, and chuckles at you, shifting the car into reverse and exiting the parking lot.

“Wait, locations? Plural? There’s more than one?” You ask suddenly.

“Aght! That’s all you get!” He says with warning in his tone before he takes your hand again. You giggle at his touch and he looks at you and then back at the road, “M’sorry! I just like you or something!” He says as he releases your hand and you’re quick to snatch his right back up.

“No! I think it’s cute.” You say, lacing your fingers with his and covering it with your other hand. You don’t miss how he smiles at the road, lifting your hand to his lips.

“I like affection, if you couldn’t tell.” He shrugged, his lips brushing over your skin as he spoke, and then pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

You smile at the feeling, “I thought it might be a possibility.”

“If you don’t like any of it, you’d tell me, right?” He asked.

You nod, “Yeah, I would.”

“You would?” He asks in clarification.

You nod again.

“So you like it?” He asked with a smile.

Your jaw opens and you can’t help but smile and nod again, “Yes!” You cover your eyes with your hands in embarrassment, “You just like to mess with me, don’t you?” You cross your arms and ignore your burning cheeks as you smiled at his own grin, really just taking him in after three weeks without seeing him in person.

“I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t so fun!” He remarked and patted your knee fondly.

You shake your head but say nothing back, knowing you liked it when he picked on you.

“And here we are, stop number one.” He says as he pulls into a restaurant. The building was white stucco and had two stories. There was outdoor seating with large black umbrellas for shade, and a sign sat atop the building with red neon lining the swirled letters that read, ‘LaDonna’s’

“C’mon.” He smiled, opening his door. You unbuckle and by the time you’re reaching for the handle he’s popped the door open and reached out for you. You smile as he pulls you to your feet and leads you to the door, your hand in his the whole way.

When you’re seated, a waiter bounds over with a smile set on you, “Hey guys, can I get any drinks started for you tonight?” He looked between you.

“I’ll have a coke.” Eddie said when you nodded at him to go first.

“Uh, me too.” You agree before the server hurries away.

“So… you think he’s cute?” Eddie winks at you as he shrugs off his jacket and then slides a menu to you.

“You jealous?” You chuckle and go to flip the menu over to view the entrees when he lays his hand on it to keep it flat.

“Absolutely.” He said easily, leaning forward, “Don’t tell me you have a thing for waiters.” He rolled his eyes with a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You blush and shake your head no.

“Good, cause we’re gonna see a few tonight, and I’m not prepared to take a loss like that just yet.” You shoot him a questioning look just as he taps the appetizers, “This is the section you need to pay attention to—I want you to pick one for us.”

You glance down to the section of options and back up at him, his gaze set on you with gentle intensity that has you smiling and nodding. “Okay.”

You try to relax as you scan the menu with his eyes on you, fighting the smile on your face and feeling like that pathetic thirteen year old you turned into when you first met, the words not having any meaning as you read each dish and the description.

Last time, it was the possibility of Eddie watching you read the menu and having to decide in a timely manner, that made your mind blank, and then it was his proximity as your waiter that drove you stupid, not to mention the circumstances surrounding your anxiety now.

Eddie’s knee bounced eagerly, his chain lightly jingling every so often. He twisted his ring and smiled when he caught your eyes flickering up from the table to his hands and back down again. His grin spreads and you notice, sinking in your seat and nonchalantly lifting the menu to form a wall between you and his face, the measure actually helping your ability to focus a bit.

“Aww, c’mon now, sweetheart,” he tapped at your menu shield and peeked over, “—you told me no shy stuff.” He chided and snickered as you lower your menu with a playful scowl.

“It’s not my fault I lose my ability to read when I’m nervous.” You weakly chuckle and shove your hands under your thighs, dipping your vision back to the menu, spotting the words ‘chips and’ and then ‘fried’ when he tapped the table next to the menu again.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking— do you wanna g—“

“No!” You cut him off, finding his eyes soft and full of concern for you. “No, I’m okay.” You nod assuringly.

“Well, you… want some help?” He shrugs.

You cock your head but before you can ask he explains, “I could read them off to you and you tell me what sounds best! Half of my job is helping people pick, anyway.” He said as he picked up your menu and acted like he was straightening out a newspaper.

“R-Really?” You ask.

He nods as if anyone would think to do that for you—you hadn’t even thought of it.

“So we got chips, queso, guac, wings?” He looked at you like he’d cracked the code, but you scrunched your nose and shook your head. “—that’s okay— cheese fries, fried mozzarella—“

“—Cheese fries?” You ask.

“Yeah? You like bacon on them?” He asked brightly.

You nod, “And jalapeños, too.”

“Oof, so you like it spicy.” He said observantly, another blush painting your cheeks before he nodded at the approaching waiter and gathered the menus.

“Have we decided?” The guy asked after he set down your drinks, looking at you again.

Eddie answered, “Yeah! We’ll take a large order of cheese fries with bacon and jalapeños.” He handed the menus back and smiled at you simply while the waiter went back to the kitchen.

“So, how did that assignment turn out? That summer camp booklet thing.” He asks with a sparkle of interest in his eyes.

“The brochure?” You giggle, your cheeks heating as your heart swells at the thought of him asking about it.

You’d mentioned it one night when he FaceTimed you. He was outside on his balcony, his torso bare and covered with ink you hoped to inspect sometime soon. You noted where his shoulders dimpled and the way the city lights reflected in his eyes and hoped one day you could join him on that very same balcony, having the same kinds of talks about everything and nothing.

He nodded as he sipped and replaced his drink back on the coaster, “Yeah! Did you end up liking it? Was it what you wanted it to be?” He asked.

You smile and nod and take out your phone to show him the video you took of the finished product, an actual, cohesive, design that captured the vibes you’d felt when you’d initially received the assignment. The book was beautiful, in your opinion, and Eddie seemed to think so too as you told him about when you saw it printed and stapled you felt all giddy and lame.

“That’s not lame though, you’re proud of your work! I know I am! I remember you showed me when it was just the template and the color picker— it looks so good! Y’know I used to be fine with never going to summer camp, but now I’m jealous!”

You let out a hearty laugh and set your phone to the side along with his, “Eddie it’s not a real summer camp, I just made it up.”

“Oh.” He chuckles with a blush, “Well, you convinced me! The vintage kinda look you gave it feels very… authentic.” He nodded as he decided his final word, his assessment making your heart soar.

“Thank you, I got an A, so I guess my teacher agrees.” You shrug bashfully. “But what about you? How’s that song coming?” You ask before unwrapping a straw and plunging it in your drink.

Eddie smiles the same way you had when he asked about your project, “It’s getting there!” He said humbly, in a way that made you know he made great progress on it despite his words, “—inspiration struck fairly recently, you could say.”

You nod, “That’s great! What’s it about, again?” You ask, wondering if he’ll give you the run around again like when he’d first mentioned it.

“Well, i-it’s about a lot of stuff,” he nods, fiddling with his own straw but not yet tearing the paper off. “Like, where I come from and where I’m at and where I see myself going—what I’m looking forward to the most… etcetera etcetera.” He nodded thoughtfully.

You smile with him, “That sounds beautiful. I’d love to hear it when it’s finished.”

“Oh, I plan on you being the first to hear it.” He said with wide eyes that filled you with anticipation.

“Well I must be something special.” You tease softly.

He nods, “You must be.” He bites the inside of his lip to contain his smile, feeling like an idiot when he felt his heart speed up merely at the way you looked at him. Your eyes round and set on him like he was a dream. Your shoulders wanted to curl in on yourself, your shyness was lingering but you were peeking out from behind the curtain. And he loved what he saw.

You were smart, and despite your struggles with anxiety, you had a lot to say. He was determined to hear all of it, especially if it came out of your smiling mouth. He loved that you were figuring out how to play with him, but didn’t make it feel like a game. Eddie was used to flirty banter but nothing that made him feel like the way it felt with you.

Your shy nature really topped it off for him, your tentativeness making it that much more fun to mess with you.

He’d never forget the way you sounded on the phone when he called for the first time. Your trembling sighs were full of nerves, the phone picking up soft chuckles, and a shy lilt to your voice that clenched his heart to the point it ached.

You’d come quite a ways since then, though part of him hoped you’d always be a little shy.

The waiter brought over your heaping basket, mozzarella, sharp cheddar, Colby Jack, and American cheese all melted on the top of the extra crispy fries.

Eddie’s eyes were bright as he beheld the food, and then looked up to find you unfurling your napkin and silverware, your bottom lip in your teeth as you spear your fork into a measly section to pull onto your tiny plate.

“Oh, I should’ve known you’d be one of those.” He teased as he pulled a fry from the top, the cheese stretching an impressive distance before snapping.

“What??” You ask, welcoming his banter with pink cheeks you suspected wouldn’t be leaving any time soon.

“Don’t tell me you eat fries with a fork.” He deadpanned and took a bite.

“I don’t, but when I’m sharing an appetizer with someone I try to be polite.” You jab your fork into another helping to plop onto your plate. “Thought that’s something you liked about me.” You quip before cutting into the cheese fries and sticking a bite in your mouth, your lips sliding off the fork as you hold eye contact with him.

You barely notice how his gaze dips to your mouth, how he swallows before he smiles and speaks again, “I do. There’s a lot of things I like about you.”

You shake your head as you chew and swallow, “That was an easy one.”

“What??” He asked as he grabs another clump of fries, carefully stacking a jalapeño on top and biting into it.

“You and your lines.” You roll your eyes.

He smiles though he puts a hand to his chest in offense, “You think I have lines??” He asked.

“How can you not? You always know what to say, how to… I dunno… stun me?” You shrug at your loss of words.

Eddie almost cackles and wipes his mouth with a napkin, “Stun you??”

“You know what I mean!” You take a bite, taking care to get the perfect amount of bacon and jalapeño on top before taking a large bite that made Eddie a little proud. You chew and appraise him as he does you, strong jaw working and his eyes waiting for your next sentence. “I just feel like you’re too smooth for it to be real, y’know—I keep thinking this is going to turn out to be one big joke.” You chuckle weakly and shrug.

Eddie deflated a little and reached his hand across the table, resting on top of yours that held your fork. “Sweetheart,” he sighed and you felt a pang of guilt swim around in your chest when you saw the hurt in his eyes, “I… I know what that’s like. Believe me, it’s—“ he sighed again, “—I can’t ever stop thinking about you.” He squeezes your hand. “I’m not used to a girl doing that to me, taking over my every thought.” He chuckled in disbelief, “I like you. A lot.” He assures with a nod and you mirror it, feeling bad he had to do this already.

“I’m sorry.” You drop your fork and wrap your fingers around his. He shakes his head, as if it were no bother. “I…” you take a deep inhale and slowly let it out as you talk, “—kinda have trust issues, if you couldn’t already tell.” You avoid eye contact until you hear his chuckle.

“I get it, I really do.” He nods before meeting her eye again, “But my interest in you has nothing to do with a joke and everything to do with the fact you’re interesting. And sweet. And cute. And smart— I honestly have no idea what you’re doing out with me.” He said it as if he believed it and took a bite.

You shake your head, “You’re so full of it.” You chuckle and prepare to take another bite, though the smile on your face told Eddie you were flattered and ready for more back and forth.

“It’s true! You know how many people see me coming and cross the street to avoid me?” He seemed pleased with himself and with the face you made, genuinely confused. “—Cause I look mean and scary.”

Your eyes widen, “Oh! Well, I don’t think you’re scary cause you’re mean.”

“You think I’m scary?”

“I think you’re scary cause you’re so… pretty—I mean handsome!”

Eddie lets out a laugh so hearty it turned a couple heads, but all you did was blush and smile at the reaction you were able to pull from him.

“You’re too cute—wow.” He grabs a clump of fries and takes a bite through his lingering smile. “So you wouldn’t cross the street if you saw me coming? Shy little thing like you?”

You shook your head, “Would you cross if you saw me coming?”

“If I’m across the street on 8th and caught a glimpse of you walking down 7th, I’m jay-running to come introduce myself.” He said without missing a beat, “I’d change direction just to walk with you.”

“You really can’t help it,” You laugh melodically, full and with your belly, your eyes practically closed in your amusement.

“When it comes to you? Not a bit.” He smirked as you collected yourself with a deep breath and continued eating.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“No way. I don’t believe you!” You chuckle madly as he nods.

“Oh, but, I did, I read every bit of it— and from the sound of it, you did too.” He looked at you with his bashful grin as you nodded quickly.

“Look at me and tell me it isn’t obvious that I’m a TwiHard.” You say pointing to your face.

The conversation had turned to reading, Eddie asking about your reading goal for the year you’d set yourself and balking when you said you were on book twelve in the month of May, and then reminiscing on his days as a bookworm when people were waiting in line for the newest additions to the Twilight Saga.

“I guess there’s only one thing I need to ask.” He said as he leaned forward. “Team Edward or Jacob? You should know that there is a correct answer, and if you respond Team Jacob I’ll l have to La Push you into traffic.”

“Of course I’m Team Edward! Jacob can keep his idealized version of Bella and shove it—“

“—La Push.” Eddie teased.

“My mistake.” You chuckle and take another bite. “So did you read them or watch them first?”

“Oh, I read them.” He urged and shook his head at his past self, “I wanted to be a Cullen so bad.” He scoffed and smiled when you nodded in agreement.

“Who’s your favorite?” You ask.

“Hmm… back in the day I’d say Edward. But now I think my real favorite is Carlisle.”

You look impressed with his answer and nod for him to elaborate, “I didn’t have the finest of upbringings.” He cleared his throat, preparing to be vulnerable. To let himself be known. “My brother and I didn’t meet til we were teens—his mom and my mom didn’t get along because of the old man, but we both landed at our Uncle’s house around the same time and—“ he shook his head feeling way off topic, “I like the found family thing. You know? The people that don’t have to love you but still do anyways.” He chuckled.

When he looked up at you, he found your eyes soft and your hand reaching out for his again. The feeling of your hand in his was becoming familiar and he liked that he knew how you’d fit together.

“And you found yours?” You ask.

He nodded warmly, “Yeah. I did. I count Dak as found family since I haven’t always had him, y’know, sometimes it still doesn’t feel real that we’re brothers and not just friends. But brothers aren’t exactly supposed to show up on your doorstep one day and never leave, right?” He chuckles at himself and you give him a weak smile as you wonder what else you’ll learn about him.

“Do you have any siblings?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No. It was just me and mom, mostly.” You say almost tensely. “Things were… a lot different between us back then. It was hard living with her without my dad.“ you nod and your eyes flicker up to his, finding his gaze on yours, his lingering smile gone for the first time. “Reading helped. Still does.” You smile.

Eddie’s smile came back at the sight of yours and he nodded, “Agreed. Though I must say, I can’t find anything I wanna devour the way I consumed the hunger games trilogy—“

“Oh my god, yes!” You hastily agree and lean forward.

“I wasn’t that big of a fan of Gale.” Eddie sighed in thought as he sat back.

“What do you mean?! He kept her family alive while she was gone at both games, despite the mixed signals she was always sending him.” You explained and he shrugged.

“Mockingjay really showed their differences, though. They were each others first love, y’know? Best friends, most importantly. But he wanted her to be something she wasn’t. He became more desensitized to the violence and Katniss needed… I dunno… a softness, and m’boy Peeta knew exactly what she needed. Til he was hijacked.” He rolled his eyes and took a sip from his now empty drink.

You bite the inside of your lip as you come to realize you agree with him. “Okay. You got me. Katniss is softer than she lets on.”

“Kinda like how you’re braver than you let on.” He winks at you and you blush down at the empty basket. A waitress drops the check by the table, which Eddie quickly swipes up and places his money inside.

“C’mon, cutie,” he stands and hold out his hand, which you take without hesitance. “Time for the main course.”

You happily take his hand and follow him out the door, wondering if he would always wanna hold your hands so firmly in his. His grip reminded you of the way your mom held your hand in the stores as a child, like he’s afraid to lose you in the crowd.

You’re appraising him in the car as he fiddles with the radio, connecting his phone and playing a song you sent him a week ago. “Now you’re just trying to get brownie points.” You roll your eyes even though you blush.

“What? It’s a good song! Much like you, it’s been stuck in my head since I first heard it.”

“Have you always been like this?” You ask.

Eddie looks taken aback by your wording, “Like what?” He looks over at you incredulously, thought you can’t tell if he’s being serious or not.

“Charismatic and laid back and outgoing and, and, and!” You shrug and he scoffs. “I just wanna know if it’s a god given gift or if there’s hope for me, cause damn. You could charm the socks off anyone.” You shake your head and look out the windshield.

He chuckles and turns the wheel, getting settled in the new direction and lane of traffic before answering, “Just the socks?” He smirks over at you and you roll your eyes for the hundredth time and blush for the thousandth.

“Honestly, Eddie, I’ll la push myself out of this car if you don’t stop doing that.” You pry your eyes away from him and cross your arms though the playful smile lingered at the corners of your mouth. You loved it though it was growing immensely aggravating.

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart, look at me.” He pleaded with a sorry tone, one you’d give a child in a sour mood. You didn’t comply, choosing to watch the traffic lights instead.

Your silence is ringing louder than a gong in Eddie’s ears as he drives, and before he knows it, he’s pulling over onto the shoulder and turning on his hazards, “What’s going on?” You ask, looking over at the gages on the dash for a check engine light or something. When you find his eyes on you, you flinch back in confusion.

“Now that I have your attention.” He smiled. You can’t help your grin as you swat at his shoulder and he turns to you. “I was the town pariah until I left at 21.” He sighed, his eyes looking more and more puppylike the longer he spoke, his eyes darting away like yours had the day you met. “You know how it is—small town America, everyone hated me for the music and stuff I liked and how I dressed, it’s dumb. Me being me caused a lot of trouble. And I had to learn to overcome their bullshit or let it get the best of me, which it didn’t.” He nodded assuringly. “I made great friends there. Most of them are here with me in the city, now. College and all. But I really found myself when I left Hawkins. When I figured out the world really was so much bigger. And that the people at home are the real weirdos, not me.” He scoffed and you nodded in agreement.

“Point is.” He sighed. “It’s a coping mechanism—my charm.” He shrugged, looking at you from behind the mask, his smile weak and eyes looking almost sad. “I’m sorry, if I come on too strong—“

“No! No.” You shake your head. “You’re great, Eddie.” You assure and your heart swells with his smile, “I’m so glad you shared that with me.” You accidentally rasp as you try to be quiet, “I know what it’s like to not belong… I wish I could’ve seen you back then.” You chuckle.

“Oh you would’ve hated me.” He rolled his eyes. “Couldn’t keep my mouth shut.” He tsked.

“Oh I can’t imagine that!” You tease and lean closer as you grab his hand and he smiles down at it.

“I’ve never been so nervous about someone.” He admitted as he flickered his gaze up to your eye just for a moment before looking back down at your intertwined hands. “No one’s ever treated me like such a big deal before. Or wanted to know me the ways you do.” He smiles up at you again before kissing your hand. “With you it’s like I wanna…. keep being the cool guy, y’know?”

“Eddie, you can’t actually be saying you’re nervous… because of me.” You shake your head, “It’s me, remember? Chicken fingers?” You shake your joined hands to jostle him like a friend getting a pep talk. “Y’know I don’t just swallow my tongue for anybody, you must really be something special! Plus have you looked at yourself lately? It’s intimidating how hot you are!”

He rolls his eyes, “Can I take my girl out to eat now? Or are you gonna ignore me again when I flirt with you?” He asks.

The term strikes somewhere eager in your chest, your eyes flying to his as he turns his blinker on to merge onto the road, “Mhm.” Is all you’re able to manage as he grins in satisfaction and takes his opportunity to join the flow of traffic, all without dropping your hand.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The walk through the parking lot was quiet but the silence was warm. Eddie had brought you to a place called ‘Black Barn Reserve’ and from the outside, it looked very rustic and cozy. The dining area was dim, candles illuminating the tables, and a large bonfire at the front of the open room, the large glass doors swung open to the outside for more areas to eat and lounge.

“You ever been here before?” He asked, his eyes taking in the scene and looking for a familiar face.

“Oh, gosh, no— I’ve heard of it though. It’s beautiful! I wanna curl up and read over there.” You point to an over stuffed armchair in the corner, adjacent to the bonfire.

Eddie smiles at the mental picture of you curled up with a book and a blanket next to a roaring fire, until he spots the familiar head of hair he’d been searching for. “Steve!” He stuck his hand up in greeting as Steve pushed through the crowd, shoving his order book into his apron as he approached.

“Its so good to see you!” The guy pulled Eddie in for a quick hug, and released him before looking over at you, “And you! Eddie has told us so much about you—“

“S’enough of that Steve,” He turns to you with a smile and introduces you by name.

“Steve Harrington— Eddie’s best friend.” The guy smiled and shook your hand before looking to Eddie, “It’s all set up for you.” He released your hand and patted Eddie on the back before darting off in the direction of a set of booths.

Eddie smiled at you bashfully and took your hand, leading you through the room to a secluded corner by a bay of windows. The booth was small and round, three candles at the center of the table smelling like warm and spicy herbs.

“I used to work here, with Steve.” He chuckled as you sat and began scooting to the other side, finding him following close by and capturing your hand under his. “That’s far enough, sweet thing, come closer.” He teased. You oblige him and scoot so close your leg almost pressed against his.

“Comfy?” He asked, placing his hand on your knee. You smile and nod, opening the menu with few options and tiny writing.

“I thought you had to have a reservation to get into this place.” You smile and look up at the ornate ceiling, the chandeliers barely glowing with light.

“Uh, usually you have to! I just got lucky that Harrington still works here and the shift manager still likes me.” He shrugged, looking down at the menu before looking over at you with a smile. “I’ve always liked this spot the most. Thought it was the best seat in the house.”

“Why is that?”

“Cause you get to enjoy every part of the place sitting right here. Bonfire,” he gestures to the fire a few feet away just outside, “People watching,” he motioned to the loaded dining room before you. “Plus the food is fantastic.”

“I’ve heard!” You chirp, trying to make out the font and find the word ‘entree’. Eddie’s finger comes into view when he points it out.

“The menu changes every night, so you can choose from the steak, pasta, or soup.” He drapes his arm on the booth behind you, looking off your menu instead of picking up his own.

You sigh in relief, nodding and automatically deciding you wanted the pasta. “You mean they don’t have chicken fingers?” You ask casually.

Eddie chuckles through his nose and leans closer. “If the pasta sucks, I’ll personally get you your chicken tenders.” He squeezes your knee before stroking the round of it with his thumb and draping his other arm around you.

“How’d you know I wanted pasta?” You ask.

Eddie freezes before his smile blooms, “Oh, uh, well, I remember your mom saying you liked that pasta—the first time you came to the restaurant.” You cover his hand with yours, brushing against his rings with careful fingers.

“I think it’s really sweet you thought of that.” You giggle, lighting up his world, “And for the record, I wanted that pasta. I just said chicken fingers because it’s all I could remember.” You put your face in your hand.

“No!” Eddie tsked, “so you don’t like chicken fingers?? Is that why you didn’t eat them??”

“No, I do! Just couldn’t eat them when my stomach was in knots.” You laugh it off and find Eddie’s smile waning.

“Is it-is it always like that?” He asked gently, “Your….?”

“Anxiety? Yeah.” You chuckle as the waitress approaches, a black dress and pearls around her neck like the rest of the female presenting employees. Her French twist was elegantly loose, and her lips were the perfect shade of mauve.

“Good evening, my name is— Eddie?” She questioned.

Eddie’s eyes fell away from yours and met hers with what seemed to be hesitance. “Monica! Hey! I didn’t know you were working here again.” He said tensely, making no move to stand like she seemed to think he would.

“I just started back about two weeks ago!” She informed him as cheerfully as she could before directing her attention to you, “I’m Monica, Eddie’s friend,”

“—old friend.” He clipped.

“Old friend.” She added, her eyes looking you over.

“This is my date, Y/n.” He put his arm around you, looking back to you, “Monica and I used to work together.”

“You could say that.” She scoffs, looking down at her leather bound book, “Can I get you some—“

“Two cokes, please.” You cut her off to get her out of the way, feeling quite shitty about it until she walked away and Eddie relaxed. You hadn’t noticed how rigid he’d grown when Monica arrived, the hundreds of questions swirling through your mind like an endless loop-de-loop.

You swallow before you meet his weary eye, flashing a closed mouth smile that was supposed to be encouraging, but for Eddie it hit him deep in the chest, like he’d already fucked up.

“Monica and I didn’t date.” He blurted.

You nod, the sentiment settling in. “I get it.”

“If I’d known she was working here again, I wouldn’t have brought you here, I’m so sorry.” He held your hand in both of his, “It wasn’t even a thing y’know, but she wasn’t… exactly… interested in me so I made a clean break and she…” he blew out a breath, “—was not happy.”

You nod again, the tension releasing in your chest. “Do you want to leave?” You ask, ready to give him an out and continue this date somewhere else.

“No, absolutely not.” He chuckled. “I’ve been wanting to bring someone special here for a while. Not gonna let anything ruin it.”

You smile and nod, happy to be wherever he is. Your eyes close in bliss when he leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead, as another waiter brings your drinks and asks to take your order.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That was literally the best pasta I’ve ever had in my life.” You groan in satisfaction as you leave the restaurant under Eddie’s arm, leftovers in the other hand.

“And now my question is, are you ready for dessert?” He asked with a glimmer in his eye, “too full?”

You shake your head, “Uh-uh, desserts the best part!” You insist, ducking into the car.

“Good. Cause the next stop is my favorite place to eat, like ever.” He smiled over at you and started the car, handing you his phone and the aux cord. “Play me something good, DJ.”

You racked your brain, searching for something he’d like, something that would impress him. You decide to go to your messages and play the song he sent you the most recently. “What?” He croons in disappointment as he joins the night traffic.

“What?” You chuckle.

“I said play me something good, not play me my music I listen to every day! Put on something you like.” He urged. “Let me in that pretty little cranium of yours.”

You bite your lip and nod, “You like the Warning?” You ask tentatively as you search them up.

Eddie shook his head, “I haven’t heard of them.”

“Well we’re gonna fix that.” You smile as the beginning of ERROR fills the speakers.

Eddies face lights up, when he hears the thudding bass lead the drums in. “Oh, shit! Okay!” He bobs his head to the beat, “I like it!” He says with a look on his face that shows you he’s impressed. “You’re gonna have to play DJ more often!”

You blush at the idea of being with him often.

You hoped you would be at least. And something in your heart to you, you would be.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Eddie…”

“Mhm…”

“Why are we parked in front of Chili’s?”

“Because! I have a to-go order.” He smiled, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Sit tight, I’ll be back.”

You nod as he steps out of the car and bounds up the sidewalk to the door where he’d shown you his ‘hiding place’ the day you’d come back for him. Your heart beat madly in your chest, the first moment you’d had alone since the start of the date and you finally realize how out of breath you are.

Over nothing.

You take a few steadying breaths and press your hands to your hot face, the bitter sting of your cold skin bringing you back down to earth a little bit. He’d been practically perfect— the whole date was. You didn’t want it to end, to live in this warm, giddy feeling forever.

You check your makeup and are pleasantly surprised when you see it hasn’t budged or caked or creased, with the exception of your lipstick worn off from eating and drinking. As you spot the familiar bouncing strides turning the corner you slap the mirror shut and busy yourself queuing music on your phone.

The lights come on when he pops open the door and he smiles as he hands you a to-go bag containing a single box. “Miss me?” He asked with the playful smile you were growing fond of.

“Of course.” You chuckle and look at the bag, unsure if you should open it or not.

Eddie shuts the door and settles in his seat and turns to you with a smile, as if he were taking you in after a long trip.

“What?” You giggle.

He shakes his head, “Nothing. Just looking pretty kissable over there.” He smirks and put his hand on your knee, stroking in soft circles before glancing up at you again.

You smile and huff a gentle laugh before leaning forward and letting him kiss your lips, the energy bordering between chaste and something eager. You wanna deepen the kiss, tempted to put your hands on his face, through his hair, however you could keep him close�� but he pulls away.

“Good girl.” He purrs and you stifle a gasp by clearing your throat and smiling. He nods at the bag. “Open it up for us.”

You unwrap it from the plastic bag and pop open the styrofoam shell to find a chocolate lava cake, a scoop of vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce drizzled across the top, and two silver spoons. You couldn’t help but notice the heart swirled in the chocolate on the bottom of the container and blushed madly as you look back up at him.

“You didn’t take a single bite—when you came with your mom. I even made sure you had a spoon in case you changed your mind and you didn’t! But… now that I know you a little better now… I assume you weren’t up to eating at the time. And everyone loves lava cake so…” he trails off as he purses his lips to the side.

You bite the inside of your smile and shake your head at him. “You’re—“ you try to find the words. Unbelievable? Amazing? Perfect? A dream come true?

He seems to realize your struggle and holds up a spoonful of cake and ice cream. “It’s still warm.” He whispers.

You take a bite and try to ignore the lump in your throat as you chew and swallow, or the tears prickling at your eyes at his tenderness. You loved how he made you feel and hated to think this could all be a trap. That he could give you this kind of love and take it away as soon as he grew bored.

And it made you feel so pathetic and weak and even a little naive all over again.

A tear slides down your cheek and he turns you by the chin to face him. “What’s wrong?” He says just above a whisper.

You meet his eye and wipe your face with a shaking head, “Literally.. nothing. I just—wow, I’m so sorry—“ you smile and sniffle and shake your head at yourself as you wipe your eyes, “—no one’s ever made such a big deal out of me. Not like this. Or—paid attention to me in the ways you do.” You shake your head. “I feel pathetic around so many people because my brain can’t handle life happening. I’m frazzled and scatterbrained and painfully shy, and I constantly feel like.. like a burden. Like it’s asking too much to be understood, Y’know?” You sniffle again as more tears fall.

Eddie nods and holds your hand and wills you to finish. His strong girl.

His brave girl.

“So, thank you.” You shrug. “Even if it doesn’t last I’ll always remember this.” You say candidly.

Eddie caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch, “Where have you been, sweetheart?” Is all he can ask. You scrunch your brows together in confusion and he leans in to kiss you again. Your lips are cold against his, tasting temptingly sweet, but he keeps this kiss innocent before pulling back and wiping away your tear with his thumb.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me to fuck off.” He said with only a hint of playfulness in his soft tone. You scan his face to find a sign that he was just speaking empty words but his eyes— his deep amber irises soft with the warmth of the sentiment he spoke between you.

You sigh and nod profusely, unable to string the words fighting at the forefront of your mind to be placed together properly, to form a sentence that articulated exactly how full and wonderful he made you feel. Instead, you lean for ward and kiss him, a hand resting on his stubbled cheek.

Eddie chuckles against your lips and you feel his smile as he moves. You break the kiss and you linger so closely your noses brush. He takes it upon himself to nuzzle his nose against yours and you let out a giggle.

You pick up the other spoon and scoop a bite to hold up for him. He chuckles and takes the bite, his eyes on yours in the dim car light.

The intro to Fade Into You by Mazzy Star comes on, and your eyes dart to his to lock in an eager gaze, “I love this song!” You both say at the same time.

You can help but share a laugh before Eddie serves you another bite, “We should’ve been doing this all night, how romantic.” He teased, though he meant it.

You blush and roll your eyes before you hold up your spoonful to his lips, and as he takes a bite, you pull it away and eat it yourself with a smile.

“Ohhh! Is that how it’s gonna be, now? We were having a moment!” He chided with an amused smile. You swallow and serve him an extra big helping to make up for it, which he’s happy to accept.

“You are forgiven.” He says through a mouthful and smiles as he scoops a bite of ice cream into the spoon and holds it up, offering it just in front of his mouth.

You lean in with closed eyes and a gaping mouth, only to feel his lips slot against yours sensually. Warm and firm and languid, the heat both physical and energetic, the passion rippling between you.

You thought back to that movie Pretty in Pink, when Iona talked about Duckie’s kiss setting her thighs on fire— that’s exactly what this felt like. The fire consumed you, licking up your legs and hips, his daring little nip at your lip rendering you utterly thoughtless until he lifted the haze like a blanket, pulling back from the kiss just as you really needed it most.

“Now, we’re even.” He winks.

“Oh, no, we are not.” You say through a scoff.

Eddie’s eyes light up at the challenge, “You took a bite, so did I.” He shrugged.

You cross your legs and shift your hips slightly, your jaw clenched and your eyes narrowed at him and his antics. Luckily, Eddie knew exactly what all of those things meant. He placed his hand on your knee and stroked in an agonizingly slow circle. “Isn’t that fair?” He asks.

Your brain begins churning into mush as he looks at you in the way he did the first time you saw him, like you’re the most interesting person on the planet—the sexiest most interesting person on the planet. And you only just now realized.

You smile in a way he hadn’t seen before as you looked him over, “Absolutely not, you practically, freakin’ mouth fucked me!” You accuse with a smile of disbelief.

Eddie’s jaw drops as he laughs, “What?!”

“You heard me!” You giggle, “You’re just gonna juice my brain and pretend it was no big deal like I’m not gonna have to take two days to recover.” You push his shoulder playfully as he keeps laughing.

“Oh my god, you’re- you’re—“ he shakes his head at her, and instead of finding a word, he brings her in for one more brain juicing kiss.

It was hot and slow, it had you whimpering without any care or notice and arching your back into him despite the console between you, his tongue moving against yours and his teeth nipping at your lip every once in a while to make you moan for him, hoping he’d soon find out how to play other parts of your body to create louder sounds.

When the kiss finally broke, Eddie pushed your hair behind your ear and smiled at you. “I wanna ask you—properly— if you’d… be my girlfriend. A-And we can get together like this whenever we can, Y’know? I kinda like how we have the same crazy schedules. And you’re good at phone tag! You make it fun.” He smiles and swipes his thumb over your cheekbone. “You make my days exciting again, you know that? He admitted. “I’ve never liked phone calls—ever! But every time you call, I wanna drop my whole life to speak to you.”

You nod, but in a way that tells him you share the feeling because of him.

“Y’know other girls, they like the whole ‘bad boy thing’ I have going on and think I’m good for a fun night and a motorcycle ride, but none of them wanna deal with my hours, or my life. They’re not actually interested in me, you know? And here you are.” He nudges your nose with his. “Wanting to know my deep dark secrets and my favorite color.”

“Favorite colors aren’t deep dark secrets! And it’s not a secret if you wear it exclusively.” You give him a pointed look and he chuckles.

“Like my own pocket sized comedian, I swear.” He holds your face in both of his hands like a child having cute aggression and shakes his head with an affectionate smile.

“What do you say, chicken fingers? Feel like bein my girlfriend?” He asks.

You smirk playfully and shrug, “I may have to take a couple days to think about it, y’know? Had a great time though.” You try to stay serious, but the second he looks fearful and the gooey tenderness leaves his eyes, you’re shaking your head, “I’m just kidding! Just kidding, I’d love to be your girlfriend—are you kidding me?” You scoff.

Eddie barely has time to smile before you’re kissing him again, his laughter a mere mumble against you before it’s snuffed out by your kiss, his lips melting against yours.

As he’s running his fingers over your hair and relishing the feeling of your soft lips against his, he can’t help but wonder what date you’ll go on next, before this one’s even over.

You pull away, “Do you, uh—“ you shake your head at yourself.

Eddie nods at you, hoping he knows what you’re gonna ask him. “Go on, brave girl.” He whispers, keeping you close.

You blush and look down, “Uh, do you wanna—maybe, take me—“

“What, you want me to take you home, now?” He asked, quieter than before.

You freeze and bite your lip bashfully, “Or… home with you?” You meet his eye before darting away and chuckling at yourself, “I’m sorry, too much? It was too much—“ you don’t get a chance to ramble on before he turns your face back to his.

He’s got a cocky, pleased smile on his lips when he says, “I will happily take you to mine. Or yours if that’s what you want.” He looks you up and down for any signs of hesitation.

You nod, “Yeah, yeah, wherever you want. Just not… ready for this night to end.” You chuckle nervously.

Eddie beams at that and scoops up another spoonful, “One more bite and I’m taking my girl home. We can finish this later,” He smiles as you take a bite, “Late night snack, maybe?” He whispered in your ear as you chewed, and smiled when your eyes went wide and your skin burned pink.

“Where-where are we gonna—?” You ask, closing the container and putting it back in the bag.

“I’m taking my girl back to my apartment,” he said as he shifted the car into reverse, “—spending the rest of the night with a movie on the tv and my lips on yours.” He smiles over at you. “How’s that sound?” He takes your hand in his and kisses it as he slows to a stop at a red light.

“…Will you take me out on the balcony?” You ask shyly. His eyes widen and he balks, your brain needing a second to catch up, “Wait, no that’s not—“

“Too late, baby, it’s already out there—and the answer is yes, absolutely—anything you wanna do on my balcony, consider it done.” He says as he eases forward with the flow of traffic and you bury your face in your hands and giggle madly.

You peek open your eyes to see Eddie still smiling at the road ahead, turning into a parking garage. He held his lip between his teeth, carefully maneuvering into his reserved spot and looking over at you eagerly as he threw it in park and turned it off. “You ready? Sure you don’t want me to take you home?”

You nod, “Mhm, I’m sure.”

He nods back at you and opens his door, “Sit tight.” He says before shutting it and walking around to open your door for you.

“Oh, special treatment?” You ask as he helps you out.

“Oh, yeah, being my girl has its perks.” He pulls you up and wraps an arm around your waist before leading you to the elevator. He slides his hand across your back and grips your elbow before grazing down your arm to lace his fingers in yours.

You catch the doors going up with one of Eddie’s neighbors, an older woman named Nadine that wore an ornate silk scarf on her head, giving a warm toothy grin as she greeted you both. Eddie eagerly introduced you as his girlfriend, the woman shaking your hand with a warm pat before joking about Eddie’s appetite.

After she’d disappeared behind a red chipped door, Eddie fumbled with his keys as he explained, “Miss Nadine makes amazing dumplings and noodles, she’s always giving me leftovers since her husband passed away.” You watch her door as he unlocks his own, “He was great too.” He adds as the door opens and thuds the wall lightly.

“Home sweet home.” He says as he closes it behind you and you scan the area. “—sorry if stuffs a little…” he says as he snatches up some food wrappers and dirty cups. You giggle and spot the place on the counter where all the mail was dropped and torn open, Amazon boxes and shoes piled by the door.

Movie and band posters hung on the walls, along with some personal pictures that dotted the spaces here and there. “It’s okay, I like it. Clean houses can feel… sterile. Y’know? You live here, it’s supposed to look like it.” You chuckle as he successfully clears off the island and smiles at you.

“Well don’t you know how to make a guy feel at home.”

“In your own home?”

“Yeah!” He said as if it were simple. “Y’know… you aren’t the first girl I’ve brought back here…” he takes your jacket off your shoulders, you swallow thickly, wondering just how much he was used to in the bedroom, if you could deliver the kind of intensity he’s used to, “—but I was always really nervous about… I dunno, their judgement? Y’know they’d make comments sometimes and I wanted it be nice the first time you came and I dunno, just hearing that from you…” he shrugs with an easy smile, “C’mon. My rooms over here.”

You follow him, your heart thumping it’s way deeper into your chest. He pushes open the black door and you’re hit with the smell of him. His cologne, his detergent, the stale cigarette smoke, and a hint of skunk wafting over from the open grinder on his desk. “Fuck!” He mutters before shutting it and shoving the tray it rested on into the drawer.

You giggle and look around his room, at his messy bed covered with shirts and pants and jackets, several pairs of shoes strung about the floor. “Don’t worry, I kinda figured it came with the bad boy territory.” You turn to him and watch him pick up the clothes and stuff them back into their places to clear the bed.

He smiles and takes off his jacket, laying both yours and his on his desk chair.

“Ah, so.. do you…?”

You nod slowly and his face lights up, “Well… in that case..” he turns back to his desk and roots around for a minute before producing a blunt with the end barely smoked. “Care to ‘joint’ me out on the balcony?” He asks with a wink.

You practically snort, “That was awful, but yes, I would love to.” You smile and follow him to the double doors overlooking the street and horizon. He has it between his lips and lit by the time he turns to face you and leans against the rail, becoming a part of the gorgeous city view.

You tuck a leg under you as you sit in his chair, and wait patiently as he takes a hit. He looks over at you and smiles before reaching out to hand it to you, watching as you take a small hit without coughing, “Look at you, sitting all pretty in my chair, smoking my weed.” He said admiringly.

“Like what you see?”

“A little too much.” He smiles as you hand it back. “Been wanting to bring you out here since you first asked to see the view over FaceTime.” He blushed before taking a drag. “No one ever.. cared to, uh, come out here with me before.” He shrugged.

“Really?” You ask as you look into the blackness illuminated by the lights of night, stacked buildings and neon lights outlining and dotting the distance as far as the eye could see. “It’s like… a giant Christmas light show.” You mumble as he hands it back and you finally look at him.

“Think you could get used to it?” He asked.

You smile at him and his hopeful eyes, his knee bouncing with his nerves. “No.” You shake your head. He freezes for a second before you speak again, “It’s too pretty to get used to. I swear I just keep finding things to look at.” You shake your head in disbelief and then look back over at his smile set on you.

“I know exactly how that feels.” He whispered before squatting down to your level and stroking your cheekbone as you take one more hit.

“Do you?” You ask, turning the joint around and sliding it between his lips. He smiles at the intimacy and takes a drag as he nods.

“Mhm,” he says and exhales through his nose, “I thought this was beautiful, but now I got you out here and it’s just…” he shakes his head and you lean into his palm as his fingers find your hair, “You make it breathtaking.” He whispers, his eyes heavy with warmth and admiration.

You scoff and blush before looking away at the scenery, but a ringed hand turns you to face him by your chin, and he kisses you deeply, a warm palm on your cheek. It’s firm and deep as you move together, lustfully slow.

He pulls back from the kiss to whisper, “I wanna see you out here more, yeah?” He asked, kissing you once more, “—get you your own chair and everything.” He offers as he rests his head against yours.

You smile and nod the best you could, “My very own? More perks?” You say just as quiet, the street noise below barely even noticeable in this moment together.

“Not to mention the super comfy place in my bed… yours if you want it.” He whispers.

You stare at him for a minute and grab his wrist to lift the joint to your lips as he held it, your eyes on his the whole time had him gulping. “Can I… try it out?” You ask daringly.

Eddie’s eyes go moony and glazed as he nods eagerly, “Good girl.” He says before he’s bending over and flopping you over his shoulder to rush inside and drop you on the bed. He takes no hesitation in crawling over you and showering you with kisses that have you giggling the most you ever had.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hours later, when the moon was full and high in the sky, and both of you were well sated in your desire for one another, you laid in Eddie’s arms, in his shirt, eating from the same spoon as you finished the lava cake and kissed the stray bits of chocolate and vanilla from the corners of each others mouths.

You’re nestled between his legs, against his chest, and he ducks down into your neck to inhale deeply like he’d been dreaming of since he first caught a whiff of you and your fancy perfume. You giggle when he presses a kiss there and when you turn your attention back to the Simpson’s, he checks his phone.

Despite the notifications littering his Lock Screen, he’s marking the date below the time, knowing deep in his heart this is how he’d wanna spend it every year forever.

Or until you tell him to fuck off…

Which is never happening.

-



-

-

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[votevotevotevotevote]

Why young people need to vote

By request, here's the text from the screenshot I shared previously. Still a good thing to show to every young person you know!

Why things won't truly change until young people vote like old people:

The government is, to put in bluntly, anti-youth — the needs and desires of young people are given the lowest priority. Social security is considered an untouchable “third rail” for politicians, yet those same politicians pay little price for ignoring climate change or paying nothing but lip service to confronting it. The US does little to address soaring education and housing costs, which disproportionately affect young people, despite being willing to spend nearly a trillion dollars annually on its military. In a particularly egregious affront, the country runs huge budget deficits — thereby offloading part of the cost of running the government onto future generations — while subsidizing fossil fuels, which means that young people are being forced to pay for their own destruction.

The reason behind all of this is simple: Old people vote at much higher rates than young people, so elected officials are incentivized to fight for them. Politicians do more to address energy prices than the future of the planet because slightly higher gas prices cause them to be punished at the polls, and young people aren’t there to back them up with their own votes.

The good news, of course, is that this can change. The beauty of democracy is that we get to choose who’s in the government, and young people exist in large enough numbers to be the driving force behind that decision. Millennials and Generation Z combine for (depending on the specific definition of the millennial generation you use) about 45% of eligible voters, but low voting rates mean that we don’t get much of a seat at the table in determining public policy. Younger generations can make up 45% of the electorate by voting at the same rates as older generations, but that’s not all — if young people can get each other to vote at higher rates than old people, we can make up a majority of the electorate and thus gain a controlling stake in the government, forcing it to finally work for us.

Tired of being screwed over by your own government? Angry at being forced to pay for your own destruction? Register to vote, and get all of your friends to do so as well. Let’s beat the boomers at their own game.

Note that (if you live in a state other than North Dakota) you have to register to vote before actually voting, and most states have registration deadlines that fall before election day — some as soon as October 6 or 7. Check your state’s deadline here, and make sure to register in time!

(source: outvote-the-boomers.blogspot.com)

[von2dutch]

Sugar baby | Jey Uso

Chapter Five

Synopsis: Sex is not a big deal. ...You can have a no-strings-attached arrangement with someone you don’t care about.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Black Female reader | word count: 3.1k | Warning: smut, toxic behavior, protected sex | 18+ ONLY

Hey my loves! This is part five to three series near the end and I just want to say I thank you all so much for reading and enjoying it. God bless 🤎.

Series master list

Tag list

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Lastly, enjoy

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Last night I cried, tossed and turned

Woke up with dry eyes

My mind was racing, feet were pacing

Lord, help me, please tell me what I have gotten into

Ran my three miles to clear my mind

As the hauntingly emotional notes of "Emotional Rollercoaster" by Vivian Green filled the air, Dakota huddled in the bathtub, her legs pulled close to her chest, sobbing uncontrollably as tears of despair streamed down her cheeks.

It had been a full five weeks since the incident, and her mental state had steadily deteriorated. The world appeared devoid of vibrancy in her perception, leaving her submerged in an unrelenting state of anguish and hopelessness.

Dakota had fled back to her hometown, Chicago, to seek refuge with her grandmother. She couldn't bear the thought of staying in her apartment where Jey could easily find her, and the mere sight of him filled her with anger and resentment. The distance from Jey also served as an escape from the constant barrage of calls and texts from Joshua, whom she had tried in vain to cut off all contact with. Despite her efforts, Joshua's persistent attempts to reach her were like a relentless wave, always finding a way to push through her defenses. She hated him.

Dakota's mental state was in shambles, and the online exposure of her private pictures had left her feeling humiliated and defeated. The once confident and radiant woman had succumbed to a deep depression, her self-image shattered into a million pieces. She felt violated and hopeless, unable to shake off the shame and judgment that now weighed heavily on her soul.

Depression had slithered into the depths of Dakota's being and settled in, refusing to be shaken. She embraced its cold embrace, isolating herself from the world around her, turning even her closest friend Jasmine away. The only person who had access to her was her grandmother, who provided a safe haven for her to retreat to. Anger mingled with her depression, fueling a bitter and resentful fire within her. She was overwhelmed by her emotions, struggling to breathe under the weight of her emotional turmoil.

The only thing she wondered was why? The one person she thought loved her so much and respected her put her private images online to possibly sent to someone to hurt her. She couldn’t bear to believe but it was true in her mind. Jey the one person who cherished her with so much love and affection crushed her in the most gut wrenching way possible. She couldn’t understand how someone who hurt her so bad she still loved someone she wanted to hate so bad she still loved so deeply.

Yesterday, I told myself I was gonna be okay

Gonna start a new day, be truly happy

I was gonna take control of me

But eventually reality hit me mentally, physically, emotionally

And I opened my eyes and realized

As Dakota sat still in her bathtub, her knees tucked up against her chest. The cold, porcelain surface felt like a sharp contrast to the numbness that had settled over her soul. Her eyes were red and puffy from countless tears shed in sorrow and heartbreak. The warmth of the water that enveloped her body was the only comfort she could find in a world that seemed to have turned against her. Naked and vulnerable, she stared listlessly into the water, a silent testament to her emotional turmoil.

"Just why?" echoed through the bathroom as Dakota sobbed, tears streaming down her face without an end in sight. The pain and betrayal she felt were etched onto her features as she repeated the question, her voice cracking with anguish. She couldn't understand what could have possibly driven Jey to hurt her in such a devastating way. The thought of him sharing her intimate pictures online felt like a knife twisting in her heart, shredding whatever trust and love she had left.

Just why?

Before Dakota could do anything else Jasmine stormed into the bathroom, her eyes wide with fear and determination. She found Dakota sitting in the bathtub, her body curled up with her knees against her chest. "Dakota stop!" Jasmine shouted, her voice a mix of desperation and firmness. "You're not going to do this to yourself." As she knelt down beside the tub, she grabbed Dakota's trembling hands, her grip firm but gentle. "I’m not letting you go down this path again Kota stop please.”

“Jas just leave me alone.” Dakota sniffed , keeping her eyes on the wall infront of her not daring to look Jasmine in her eyes.

Jasmine's words sliced through the air, sharp and demanding. "No, you're my best friend, Dakota. Do you honestly think I'm going to let you drown yourself?" The tone of her voice was filled with determination and concern, leaving no room for argument. She stood there, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and worry, refusing to let Dakota give in to her despair.

Jasmine's tone was firm and resolute, her eyes fixed on Dakota with a mixture of urgency and determination. "Dakota, get out of this tub now," she commanded. "Or so God help me, I'll drag your ass out of there myself." The threat was clear, and there was no room for negotiation. Jasmine was not going to let her friend give in to her despair.

Jasmine knew all too well the depths of despair that Dakota had sunken into before. She had witnessed her friend's struggles through various trials and tribulations, but nothing quite compared to the time when Dakota lost her mother. Losing the only parent she had left Dakota feeling shattered and alone, like a ship lost at sea with no one to cling to for comfort. Jasmine understood the weight of that loss and the toll it had taken on her friend's delicate mental state.

Jasmine finally convinced Dakota to get out of the tub, wrapping her in a large, fluffy towel. She led Dakota towards her bedroom, sitting her down on the edge of the bed. "You need to snap out of this," Jasmine said firmly, her voice filled with a mixture of anger and concern. "You can't keep punishing yourself like this."

“Jasmine what the fuck else am I supposed to do huh? My life is over I don’t want to be here I love someone that fucked me over so what else should I be happy about to stay here.”

“Dakota stop that shit! You have many reason why you deserve to be here not only because of me but because of everyone that loves and cares about you think about your grandma, think about your passion for fashion but most importantly your self.”

Jasmine's words hung in the air, the weight of her truth impossible for Dakota to ignore. "Stop punishing yourself for things you can't control," she implored. "Me and you both know Jey hadn’t done that Kota that man loves you and I’ve seen it with my own eyes he loves you.” The conviction in her voice was palpable, as if trying to shake Dakota out of her despair and make her see the truth of the situation.

Dakota turned to face Jasmine, her eyes flashing with a mix of disbelief and anger. "You're taking his side now?" she accused, her voice trembling with emotion. Her hands clenched the towel tightly around her body, as if trying to shield herself from the world.

Jasmine met Dakota's gaze, her own expression resolute. "No, I'm not taking his side," she replied, her tone steady. "But I won't watch you drown in this cycle of self-blame and despair."

“Dakota I just think you’re taking this too far without hearing him out.”

“Hear him out for what Jasmine! What could he fucking possibly say oh he’s sorry?.” Dakota laughed historically as she found it funny in a dark way. “Sorry huh? Fuck him I don’t give a damn what he has to say I’m done.”

Jasmine flinched at the venom in Dakota's voice, her heart aching for her friend. "I'm not asking you to forgive him," she reiterated, her tone gentle.

Dakota's laughter echoed through the room, a harsh, bitter sound. "Sorry? As if that could fix any fucking thing," she mocked, her voice filled with hurt and anger. "I don't give a damn about his apologizes or explanations. I'm done, done with him."

“Kota just hear hi— no Fuck you jasmine.” Dakota shouted startling her grandmother that was next door to her room. Dakota walked closer to Jasmine staring into her eyes.

“Fuck me?”

“Yes! You.”

“Dakota you’ve lost your fucking mind! I’ve been your best friend for years and the one time I try to tell you that you’re taking things too fucking far it’s fuck me?.” Jasmine snapped her tone hissed and groaned in disbelief as she took a step back.

Dakota's voice rose, filled with raw emotion and unchecked anger, as she yelled, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, well let me guess, you feel companionship for him, huh?" Her voice trembled with pain and frustration. "Well good for fucking you! You and him, him and you, you and fucking him can go to hell!" The words spilled out like venom, pouring out of her like a torrent of suppressed emotions finally unleashed.

The anger in Dakota's voice was palpable as she faced off against Jasmine. "You and everyone else picked him over me!" she yelled, her eyes burning with betrayal. "The one person you've known all your fucking life!"

Jasmine flinched, the hurt and shock visible on her face as Dakota's words hit her like a gut punch. "Dakota, please, just listen..." she tried to interject, but Dakota wasn't done.

The weight of betrayal and hurt was evident in Dakota's voice as she stood in the middle of the room, her cheeks stained with tears. "No!" she cried out, her arm shaking as she gestured emphatically. "Why, Jasmine? Why did he do that to me?"

Jasmine's heart ached, seeing her best friend in such a devastated state. She stepped closer, her own eyes filled with tears. "I-I don't know, Kota," she stammered, her voice choked with emotion.

Jasmine wrapped her arms around Dakota, pulling her into a tight embrace. She rocked her back and forth on the bed, offering comfort and support. The air around them was thick with sadness and grief as Dakota's shoulders shook with silent sobs, her emotions completely frayed and raw.

She was a wreck.

Jasmine held onto Dakota tightly, her arms wrapped around her like a lifeline. The two friends sat silently on the bed, the room enveloped in a heavy silence punctuated only by Dakota's occasional sniffles.

Jasmine finally spoke, her voice soft and gentle. "I know it's tough," she murmured, her hand stroking Dakota's hair soothingly. "But you'll get through this, Kota. I promise."

Dakota sniffed, her voice cracking as she looked up at Jasmine. "How?" she whispered. "How can I trust anyone again after what he did?"

“By putting your trust in god Kota, all we can do is pray.”

A Grandmother’s love

• Instagram close friends

Dakota.Valentine • 50 mins ago

“So are you gonna hide here forever?”

“Huh?” Dakota said as she turned to look away from the tv towards her grandmother as she sat on the couch watching The Wayne brothers.

“I said are you going to hide here forever babygirl?” She asked once more as she stared at Dakota waiting for an answer.

“Well yeah if that’s what it takes.” Dakota shrugged unsure of her answer but confident with it. If this what it took for peace of mind then so be it.

"Suga, running away won't fix your problems," she said again, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. "And thinking it'll bring you peace of mind is only going to make things worse."

Dakota's grandmother's words cut through the air, her tone laced with a mixture of love and sternness. She fixed Dakota with a knowing gaze, her eyes reflecting years of wisdom and experience.

Dakota shifted uncomfortably on the couch, feeling the weight of her grandmother's words. She knew she couldn't hide forever, but admitting it was another thing altogether.

Dakota's grandmother continued, her gaze unwavering. "Baby, you may think you're in control by running away, but you're not. You're just digging yourself a deeper hole."

Just then, Dakota's phone buzzed with an incoming call from an unknown number. She rolled her eyes, assuming it was Jasmine trying to reach her.

"Answer it, suga," she urged. "Might be important."

Without much choice, Dakota reached for her phone and hesitantly answered the call. As soon as she answered, the familiar voice on the other end confirmed her suspicions.

"Ko baby," Jey's voice echoed through the receiver, soft and strained.

Dakota's heartbeat quickened, the mix of anger and pain flooding back in an instant. She froze, her mind racing as she held the phone to her ear.

She froze for a moment, her emotions swirling within her. Hearing Jey's voice stirred up a mix of anger and pain that threatened to break her resolve. But then, with a clenched jaw, she mustered all her willpower and pressed the hang-up button, cutting off the call abruptly.

Dakota dropped her phone onto the couch, shaking her head. "He can forget about it," she muttered through gritted teeth. "I'm not falling for his apologies this time."

Her Grandma watched her with a mix of sadness and understanding. She knew the pain and anger were eating away at Dakota, but she also understood that sometimes tough love was necessary.

"Honey, hanging up on him like that won't solve anything," she said gently. "You need to confront this head-on, not run away from it."

Dakota rolled her eyes again, frustration boiling up within her. "It's easy for you to say, Nanny," she retorted, her voice slightly raised. "You're not the one who got betrayed and hurt."

Grandma took a deep breath, her patience visibly wearing thin but her love for Dakota unwavering. "Exactly," she said firmly. "That's why I see this situation more clearly than you do. You're too blinded by your anger to see the truth."

Dakota huffed, her eyes narrowing defiantly. "And what truth is that, huh?" she challenged, her voice dripping with skepticism. "That he really didn't leak those pictures of me online? That he's completely innocent and blameless in all this?"

Grandma regarded her granddaughter with a steely gaze, refusing to back down. "Yes," she said simply. "That's exactly what I believe. You're just too stubborn to consider the possibility."

Dakota scoffed, her frustration mounting. "And how can you possibly believe that? He's the only one who had those pictures, Grandma. It's like you're just blindly trusting him!"

Grandma shook her head, her voice tinged with a mix of disappointment and annoyance. "No, sugar, I'm not blindly trusting him," she corrected. "I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt, something you refuse to do."

Grandma took a deep breath, her tone softened as she recalled the memories. "Girl, don't you remember how he was there for you during your hardest moments?" she reminded Dakota, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

"He helped pay for your mama's funeral, without a second thought. And remember how you called me after you got into a relationship with him? I could hear the excitement in your voice, honey. You were happier than I'd ever heard you."

Grandma's eyes searched Dakota's face, hoping to see some flicker of realization. "And let's not forget about the support he gave you whenever you needed it," she continued, her voice steady. "He was there for you through it all."

Dakota's expression remained defiant, her anger still clouding her judgment. But a tiny crack in her wall of rage appeared, as if Grandma's words had momentarily weakened her defenses.

Her grandma only wanted the best for her but she could tell Dakota’s anger got in the way of that no matter how much pull she tried to ease the situation nothing worked.

He was the love of her granddaughters life she had never seen her so blossomed with love till she met him and now everything was broken to glass that she thought maybe she could fix.

Grandma pounced on that sign of vulnerability, hoping to keep pushing forward. "Baby girl," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "You've always been a fighter, yes, but you also have a good heart. Deep down, you know he didn't do this to hurt you."

Dakota paused, her expression conflicted. There was a hint of uncertainty in her eyes, as if Grandma's words were starting to break through the thick wall of anger she had built around her heart.

Grandma pressed on, sensing that she was getting to her. "Just think about it, darlin'," she pleaded. "Why would he help you through everything if he didn't truly care for you? Why pay for your mama's funeral if his intentions were malicious?"

Dakota's resolve wavered, her shoulders slumping slightly as Grandma's words echoed in her mind.

Grandma leaned forward on the couch, her gaze steady. "You're a smart girl, Dakota," she said firmly. "You know the answers to those questions. But you're just too angry to accept them."

Dakota's eyes darted away, a mixture of anger and uncertainty swirling within her. "But the pictures..." she protested weakly.

Grandma shook her head, gently shutting down Dakota's protest. "Those pictures don't prove anything, darlin'," she said, her voice soft yet firm. "They could have come from anywhere. You're just assuming the worst without even talking to him about it."

Dakota fidgeted on the couch, her defenses weakening more by the minute.

Grandma placed a comforting hand on Dakota's knee, offering a gentle touch. "Baby girl, you have to confront this head-on," she urged. "Instead of running away, you need to talk to him and get to the truth. Only then can you move forward and find some peace."

Dakota chewed on her lip, her expression conflicted. She knew Grandma had a point, but her stubbornness and anger held her back from admitting it. She just wanted to forget him but she couldn’t because she loved him dispite her anger towards him.

Grandma softened her tone even further, trying to appeal to Dakota's emotions. "Think about it, sugar," she pleaded. "You two have been through too much to throw it all away over a misunderstanding. You owe it to yourself to at least talk to him and figure out what really happened."

Dakota's gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders slumping even further. The fire in her eyes was starting to dim, replaced by a hint of acceptance.

Grandma could sense that Dakota was starting to crack, and she cautiously continued. "And let's not forget that communication is key in any relationship," she said gently. "You can't just shut him out without giving him a chance to explain."

Dakota let out a sigh, her eyes still fixed on the floor. She was visibly struggling with her emotions, the anger and betrayal warring with rationality in her mind.

Grandma noticed the struggle within Dakota and seized the opportunity to push a little further. "You don't even have to forgive him right away," she reassured her. "But give him a chance to explain himself, at least."

Dakota's eyes flickered up for a moment, her guard slowly dropping. She still held onto her anger, but there was a hint of curiosity as well.

Grandma saw the flicker of curiosity in Dakota's gaze and used it to her advantage. "Isn't that what you want, sugar?" she asked gently. "To know the truth? To finally have an answer?"

Dakota's resistance wavered even more, her expression conflicted. She wanted answers, but she was terrified of being hurt again.

That was all she wanted was the answers but could she handle it? Could she handle being also wrong to run away from her problems rather than face them and learn the truth.

Grandma leaned closer to her Dakota , her eyes filled with empathy and understanding. "Listen, darlin', I know you're scared," she admitted. "You've been through a lot, and it's natural to want to protect yourself from getting hurt again. But sometimes, to truly move on and find peace, you have to face your fears and take the risk."

Dakota swallowed hard, her eyes still downcast. Her mind was racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

Grandma reached out and took Dakota's hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm not asking you to forget what happened," she said softly. "But give Joshua a fair chance to explain himself. At least listen to what he has to say."

Dakota's grip tightened on her grandmother's hand, but her expression was still conflicted. She knew her grandmother was right, but the scars of betrayal ran deep.

Could she forgive him ?

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

2.am

As the night grew darker, a soft knocking echoed through the quiet house. Dakota’s Grandma stirred, casting a brief glance at the clock—2:00 AM. She slowly rose from her bed, a mix of curiosity and concern coursing through her.

Approaching the door, she fumbled with the lock before slowly opening it. Standing there, silhouetted against the dim lighting, was Jey. His eyes were heavy with fatigue and determination.

"Can I come in?" Jey asked quietly, his voice gravelly. She regarded him with a mixture of surprise and concern before nodding and stepping aside.

Joshua entered the house, his movements clumsy in his late-night stupor. They made their way to the living room, the tension between them palpable.

He took a late night flight to Chicago the minute he found out where Dakota was hiding at from jasmine. He wasn’t going to risk anything to speak to her no matter how tireless he was from a match he had earlier on in the night he was still going to fight his way to her.

"Is she here?" Jey asked, his gaze darting around the room, searching for Dakota.

Jey's eyes were visibly red and puffy, evidence of the tears he'd shed. His mullet was disheveled, and his usual confident demeanor seemed to have crumbled. He looked weary and vulnerable, as if he'd been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

As he spoke, his voice wavered slightly. "Is Dakota here?" he asked once more,, his gaze searching the room for any sign of her.

She nodded, her expression softened by the sight of his weary appearance. "She's in her room," she replied quietly. "Probably not asleep, though. She's been restless since that incident."

Jey's shoulders slumped at the mention of the incident, guilt etched across his face. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, attempting to compose himself.

His heart twisted at the sound of her pain and animosity, each word she spoke like a knife twisting deep into his chest. The idea that he had caused her pain, that he had hurt her to the point of her hating him, cut through him like a hot blade.

The realization that he had caused so much harm stung deeply, and Jey felt a wave of guilt and self-loathing wash over him. He wanted to scream at himself, to beat himself up for being so careless with someone he cared for so deeply.

She was his beautiful bloom tree that made him bloom.

As Jey ran his hand through his hair, the movement revealed his signature mullet, now with the distinctive red tips at the ends. The stark contrast against the muted light of the room only seemed to emphasize the weariness in his expression.

Grandma's gaze stayed on Jey, her maternal instincts stirred by the sight of his disheveled state. "You look like you've been through the wringer, honey," she observed, her voice laced with concern.

Josh let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping further as if the weight of the world was pressing upon him. "I have," he admitted softly, his eyes fixed on the floor.

Dakota slowly stepped out of her room, her eyes still heavy with sleep. She rubbing her eyes, her hair disheveled and a blanket draped over her shoulders.

"Nanny, who was at the..." her voice trailed off as she noticed Jey standing there. Her guard immediately went up, and her expression hardened. "What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Dakota!” Her grandmother shouted out at her with a glare for her language.

“Sorry nanny.” Dakota sighed trying to contain her anger which held high.

Jey looked up as Dakota appeared, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her. He swallowed hard, mustering the courage to speak. "I needed to talk to you," he said quietly. "Please, just hear me out."

Dakota's eyes narrowed, her walls firmly in place. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, a futile attempt to fortify her defenses.

Josh took a tentative step toward her, his movements slow and measured. "Can we talk in private?" he asked softly.

Dakota hesitated, her gaze flickering between her grandmother's retreating form and Jey. After a moment, she relented, her resistance cracking slightly. "Fine," she said grudgingly, gesturing toward her room. "But make it quick."

Jey followed Dakota into her room, the door closing softly behind him. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a small bedside lamp.

Dakota leaned against the wall, her arms crossed defensively. A tense silence hung in the air, the tension between them palpable.

Jey stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his hands shoved into his pockets. He glanced around, his gaze lingering on the photographs and trinkets that adorned her walls and shelves—reminders of happier times between them.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself before finally looking at her. "I know you're angry," he began quietly. "And I don't blame you."

Jey took a slow step forward, closing the distance between them a fraction. "I didn't leak those pictures," he said firmly, his voice tinged with desperation.

Dakota's gaze flickered up to meet his, her eyes cold. She didn't respond, but her expression remained guarded and skeptical.

Jey could see the skepticism in her eyes and felt desperation well up within him. He took another step forward, his voice growing more insistent.

"I swear to you, Dakota, I would never do no shit like that to hurt you," he pleaded, his voice cracking slightly. "I love you. I would never betray you like that and you know that.”

Jey's eyes were pleading, his expression filled with a mixture of sadness and determination. "Please," he said softly, his voice filled with vulnerability. "Please believe me. I didn't do this."

Dakota's expression wavered, the wall she had built around her heart cracking ever so slightly. She wanted to believe him, but the pain of betrayal weighed heavily on her heart.

Joshua took a final step toward her, closing the gap between them completely. He gently reached out, placing a tentative hand on her arm.

"I swear, Dakota," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "I would never do anything to hurt you.."

Dakota's gaze flicked up to meet his, her walls slowly crumbling under the weight of his earnestness.

Josh’s grip on her arm tightened slightly, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her skin. He stepped even closer, closing the remaining gap between their bodies.

"Please," he pleaded, his eyes searching hers. "I need you to believe me. I love you. You're the most important person in my life, and I would never intentionally hurt you like that ko.”

Dakota's expression softened, her defenses slipping further. A hint of doubt and confusion warred with her anger.

Jey's expression hardened as he locked eyes with her. "You hate me, huh?" he said quietly, his voice laced with resignation.

Dakota nodded, crossing her arms defiantly. "Yeah, I do, I really fucking do.” she replied, her voice cold and distant. "And nothing you say is going to change that."

Jey let out a frustrated sigh, his eyes narrowing as he observed her stubborn expression. "You don't believe me," he stated, his voice tinged with anger.

Dakota shrugged, unfazed. "Damn right, I don't," she retorted, her gaze flickering away from him.

Jey felt a surge of irritation, his frustration mounting. He took a step closer, closing the space between them again.

"Why the fuck you gotta be so damn stubborn Dakota?” he asked, his voice raising slightly. "Why can't you even consider the possibility that I could be telling the fucking truth?.”

Dakota's eyes flared with defiance, her stubbornness refusing to waver. "Because it's easier for me to hate you than to believe in you," she shot back, her voice laced with bitterness.

Jey's anger flared at her response, his jaw clenching. "Nah it’s just easier to believe I did it then to believe I didn’t ," he snapped, his gaze burning into hers.

"Is it, though?" Dakota retorted, her eyes narrowing. "Or is it easier for you to blame me for being stubborn than to accept that you played a role in all this?"

Jey clenched his fists, his patience wearing thin. "Played a role in what? I ain’t did shit Dakota," he growled. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"You think so?" Dakota scoffed, her voice filled with skepticism. "You really think you didn't do anything wrong at all?"

Josh’s irritation boiled over, his voice rising to a near-yell. "Fuck Dakota, I already told you I didn't leak that shit!”

“But you just can’t fucking seem to get that through your damn head can you?” Josh replied but he stopped in his tracks as he saw red roses sitting on her nightstand with a card written on it big and bold. “Joe Anoaʻi.”

"Joe," he muttered under his breath, his expression darkening with jealousy. “You can accept gifts from him but not me right?”

“Josh it shouldn’t even matter we ar— It should fucking matter Dakota!” Joshua shouted startling Dakota as he stared at her with almost darken eyes.

His shout echoed through the room, its intensity shocking even to him. His eyes, usually filled with warmth, now seemed almost dark as he locked gazes with Dakota.

He had grown weary of waiting patiently, feeling drained not only by his efforts but also by the fact that she could hold conversations with Joe, while she seemed unable to do the same with him.

“It doesn’t matter though because we aren’t to fucking gether!”

“So what you fucking with my cousin now? Is that what it is.” He asked, he could see the anger and frustration building within him as he walked back and forth, each step punctuated by his clenched fists. The tension in the room was palpable as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

“No! But that’s the problem you get to assuming things without knowing the fucking truth.” She shot back.

“I fucking hate you.”

Joshua came to an abrupt halt as if everything else around him vanished in that moment, fixating on the single word "hate." He made his way towards Dakota, his gaze fixed on her, and his features softened. "You don’t mean that ko.”

“No I do.” Dakota's response cut through the air like cold ice water. She pivoted on her heel, deliberately turning her back on him, refusing to spare him even a single glance.

“I know you’re mad at me right now but Dakota me and you both know you don’t m— NO I do mean it I mean it so fucking much I hate you!”

“Everyday I wish I hadn’t met you but I did and I have to live and regret it so yes I do hate you matter fact you can leave.” Dakota said once more as the tears she so desperately didn’t want to drop did.

“Aight I’ll go…but before I leave I want you to know ko that even though you hate me I still love you and never will stop loving you.” Joshua said as tears filed his eyes he walked towards the bedroom door walking his footsteps becoming faint the more he walked away.

Hate is a powerful emotion, and when it emerges between people who love each other, it can feel like a natural part of the relationship. No matter how strong the love may seem, true colors are bound to show eventually. It's important to ask yourself.

Is hate a strong word for you?.

To be continued…..

So this is the end of chapter five! I hope you all enjoyed it.

Y’all I’ve been so busy watching interview with the vampire and all I can say is girl it’s crazy but so good! So far Claudia is my favorite. I kinda of used one of the scenes from I think season two with Claudia and Louis arguing about amand.

AND most importantly I want to thank you all for getting me to 6k followers! I appreciate it so much!!!! 🫶🏾

Feel free to drop any opinions on the characters or chapter and a till next time. God bless🎀

[thatdiabolicalfeminist]

Hi, I woke up today to texts from someone I love in frozen South Dakota. She's had a rough run of things lately, child support keeps being late and she's had car issues lately that she's fortunately been able to cover herself, but it's eaten into the very tiny savings she'd finally built up.

She has been taking on as much work as she can get cleaning houses to try to make up for missing child support, but her kids keep getting sick from school and then getting her sick which has made this challenging.

Today her autistic 9 yo was too sick to go to school and so my loved one had to call out of work to stay home and take care of the kiddo, while also being pretty sick herself.

She's done some math and these are the expenses she can't figure out how to cover:

$275 rent $80 medicine $45 phone bill $20 gas $20 replacement noise canceling headphones for autistic kid $20 gas $5 shampoo and conditioner $5 feminine pads

Would any financially secure adults be able/willing to help this little family with even a dollar towards meeting these needs?

She made a gfm here:

[zvdvdlvr]

— Leaning to Live Again.

— 🪻. Synopsis. It’s been four and a half months since your fall. You’re starting physical therapy, and the team (and your husband) is there for you every step of the way- as Aaron gets started on filing a product liability lawsuit.

— 🪻. Warnings. Foul language. Frustrated reader. Female reader. Welder reader. Husband Spencer. Physical therapy. 1.6k fic. Mildly rushed ending. Not mych dialogue. I have no physical therapy experience, so I apologize for any incorrect terms/activities/phrases. Pet names.

— 🪻. Extra. Welder!Reader is getting a lot of love :))) Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

— 🪻. Other Welder!Reader fics. Lunch Break. Alive and Breathing.

You spent five weeks in the ICU, four of them in a medically induced coma. The doctor said that it was so you actually gave your body time to recover; the first few weeks after surgery was always the rockiest stage of any major injury.

Spencer spent every waking hour with you, if you were conscious or not. He read to you, had conversations with you, and told you anything that came to mind because he knows you love his voice. After three nights straight at the hospital, the nurses practically begged Spencer to go home, rest, recuperate, and get cleaned up. And Spencer admits, he felt a lot better after going back to your shared home.

When the doctors decided it was time to wake you up, Spencer was all but shoved out of the room. Something abour “not overwhelming her” or something. Spencer wasn’t listening anyway. After texting JJ, she told Spencer she’d let everyone know the news as they were currently in South Dakota catching a serial rapist and killer. And then Spencer resolved to pacing, reciting each song lyric you told Spencer reminded you of him. He repeated the few poems he had gotten you to read, voice softening as you read the words. And Spencer repeated the vows you and him had written for each other, remembering your face and your voice, the way you stood and how you smelled. He relived it as you were being pulled out of the darkness of your unconscious.

“Dr. Reid?” The nurse asked, pausing Spencer mid-step. He watched a few other nurses file out, and Spencer felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest.

“Yes?” He answered, breath held.

“Mrs. Reid is awake. You are more than welcome to go in there, but don’t put her on any additional stress.”

Spencer had barely said ‘thank you’ before he was hightailing it to the side of your bed. He felt the wind rush out of his lunge when he saw you blinking harshly, eyes trying to adjust to the light.

“Hey sweetheart,” Spencer whispered, tears trailing down his cheeks. He sat down and carefully took your callused hands in his.

You cleared your throat. “Hi,” you said finally, voice gravely from disuse. “You okay?”

A watery laugh bubbled out of Spencer. “You fall off a building and you ask me if okay. Baby, I love you so much.”

“Takes more than a fall to take me away from you, husband,” you murmured, letting your hand trace Spencer’s cheek. “But… how is everyone doing? I heard some of the things you guys said when I was… out, but I want to hear from you.”

The genius looked away, salty tears dampening his beautiful eyelashes. “Hotch is planning to prosecute the guys who made the safety harness that you wore because we all know you never would have worn something that was unsafe or had been recalled. We’ve just…” Spencer sniffled, turning his head to look back at you, “I guess we’ve just kept busy.”

You hummed. “How long will I be out of the showbusiness?”

Spencer looked at you, your eyes tired despite all the sleep you had been getting. He knew your world would shatter when he told you that you’d be in recovery for at least another year and a half. Your lipped twitched- an attempt to get the man you loved to smile. Yet again Spencer felt his heart crack: this was going to break you. “Doc says… about two years.”

The pointer finger still tracing Spencer’s face stilled. Your face blanked and Spencer felt the ari leave his lungs at how you looked at him. “What did you say?”

Spencer took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles as his tears fell onto your own and then slid down down down to the cold hospital floor. “Two years, baby.”

“Years. Tw-Two years,” you repeated in a whisper. “Two years.”

Spencer’s eyes shut. Your head fell back on the pillow, eyes boring holes into the ceiling as your own tears welled in your eyes.

“I know, baby, I know,” Spencer cried as you wept silently.

“You got this, wife,” Spencer whispered, pecking the crown of your head before going to stand across you, metal bars on either side of the wheelchair you carefully stood from.

It was your twenty third day of physical therapy, and boy was it hell. Your entire bottom half hurt, feeling as if fire consumed your muscles as you shakily got used to being on your feet again. Your back hurt the worst, though. You tried to play it off the best you could, but when the shooting pain took hold of the sensitive nerves of your spine, you couldn’t do more than screw your eyes shut andprace your head for the inevitable fall.

It had been getting better, you thought. Taking your first six steps was getting easier. Getting out of the pool was easier, and you could stand up without yelping in pain. But still, as you pushed through eveey PT session, you couldn’t help but feel disgusted at yourself for not being able to do basic human activities.

Spencer really atuck to his vows, remaining steadfast at your side through everything. He was at your every beck and call, updating you on your coworkers and all the other people you’d grown close to as a welder and as a woman. Spence took pride being able to help you, being your rock as you always are for him.

Aaron was actively prosecuting the company that produced the faulty equipment. As requested by Spencer, Aaron didn’t tell you much. It was better in both of their minds that you focused on recovery and not having Hotch dumb down the details of legal stuff- not that you were dumb, you just weren’t as educated as Spencer and Aaron. Obviously.

Penelope made a point to bring you food every other day. With her she brought a big hug, warm smile, and hot tea. You listened closely to the gossip she had to share, grateful that she didn’t try overly hard to comfort you- she was just like a sister in that way.

Emily stopped by when she could, but understandably had other plans for her time off; i.e.: napping. When she came Emily brought a book or two she had seen and thought of you about or a magazine.

J.J. tried as hard as Penny did, bringing Henry and Will whenever possible. You appreciated the family, feeling fully accepted as J.J.’s soul sister, despite only knowing Spencer’s coworkers for almost a year. Henry had clicked with you right away and told you stories as he snuggled up to you in the hospital bed. When he fell asleep, Will and J would make conversation with you.

Derek had dinner with you and Spencer every weekend. He brought something new every time and always shut sown your protests at how expensive it must have been, aspecially since the three of you combined could eat $300 worth of food- having fast metabolism and being an athletic person was worth bragging about while shoving half pound birgers into your mouth. Despite just the good food, Derek made sure to talk with just you, offering a deep conversation or a lightheard bickering session, letting you know you weren’t alone.

Rossi visited every time he had time. David had grown fond of you and your personality. You were a hardworking, sincere, and (painfully) honest person. All admirable traits, Rossi thought. He always brought flowers, chocolate, and a milkshake/smoothie for you. Though his visits were shorter in comparison to Derek’s or Penny’s, David visited more frequently. He filled you in on details of the lawsuit Aaron was working on, staff drama, and other fatherly conversation.

Slowly, the months passed.

60 more days passed before the hospital finally brought up your discharge.

Through all that time you had managed to re-gain the ability to walk, run, swim 2 laps uninterrupted, and were improving daily.

You were proud of your progress, but especially thankful of all the people that had stood by your side the entire way. Your eyes burned just thinking about the love Spencer’s family your family had for you.

When one of the nurses you had grown close to finally brought up your discharge, you threw your arms around her and practically cried tears of joy. Spencer kept his composure better, but you could see the shine in his eyes as he discussed the details as you pulled yourseld away from the nurse.

The team was on a case when you reported back to them, but J.J. and Derek immediately set up a quick video call to voice their happiness. Even Aaron stepped in frame, a warm smile on his face as he spoke of how happy he was for you. David showed up right at the end. You swear you saw a tear roll down his cheek as he told you how proud he was of you, how strong you are, and how thankful he is that you’re okay.

Beside you, Spencer ran his hands through your hair with a shaking hand. He, too, cried.

It was two weeks later when you shoved your bags in the back of your truck (you insisted it be the vehicle Spencer drove home) and left the hospital.

“I love you Spencer Walter Reid.”

The two of you stood, leaning against each other, in front of your home. The feeling of Spencer’s warm body under your touch made you feel alive- electric, even. You felt like you could do anything as you carried your own bags into your own home with your own husband.

With Spencer by your side, you were finally learning how to live again.