#based on a conversation i had with my mom and my dog

[milomilesmib]

Nico, to one of the cocoa puffs, using a pet voice: who's a little autism rat? Is it you? Are you a little autism rat?

Will, laying face down on the bed: I am.

Nico:

Will:

Nico: me too, buddy.

[ajortga]

i bet on losing dogs

pairing: cairo sweet x fem reader

summary: in which cairo's obsession for mr. miller drifts you two further apart, and you can't do anything about it.

word count: 4.2k+

warnings: angsty (not proud of it) toxic cairo, mentions of sex, mentions of teacher/student relationships

based off request!

-

Hey... Can I have a request?! Cairo Sweet x Fem!Reader

"I'm done waiting for you, Cairo."

Credits to: urfriendlywriter

-

Cairo was.. Honestly, you didn’t know how to explain to her. That’s just exactly how to describe her. She was indescribable. 

One moment in a day would you be like the teenage girl you are, in love. The beat in your heart would race, fluttering in your chest as she bit the eraser on her pencil, looking at you with eyes that made your legs feel like mush.

Then, another day you would feel hopeless. Helpless. Because the beautiful brown-eyed girl would leave you in the dust. 

She would sweep you off your feet, but never care enough to really catch you. Maybe that’s why you kept going back. To feel the thrill, to be loved for just a little moment with the girl you’ll love no matter what happens. 

But you had no cure, because she was so contagious. Addictive. She was like a drug that you couldn’t get enough of, yet there was no cure to make you stop. Cairo Sweet. It was in her name. Her genes. She was so syrupy sweet, you just couldn’t help it. You were too blinded to think properly. 

The amount of times Cairo swept your feet, you grew tired. Tired of her games, of her love that began to come off as a hoax. As much as you’d want to holler it out loud, you couldn’t say you were tired of her. Never. 

The countless moments where you were left in the dust, the rain. No seriously, the rain. 

-

“I’ll be there!” Cairo smiles, your grin wide. “I just need to discuss the essay for my final to Mr. Miller real quick. It should only take 8 minutes max.” The girl assures, rubbing your shoulder as you two e spend our lunch together. You lean into it. A part of you now wishes you could’ve changed it. Maybe you’d feel better not feeling the stabbing pain in your stomach.

“Okay,” you respond softly. “I can’t wait to work on that project with you! I think we’ll amaze her with our studies, then after you can spend the night and we can have ice cream!”

She laughs.

You can’t stop looking at her eyes. Syrupy sweet, not a hint of hesitance. She lifts a cigarette to her mouth, a soft smile on her face. Cairo nods, “We’ll outsmart the whole class with someone as smart as you,” she gives your nose a little boop with her finger before the bell rings.

Quickly, she packs her bags, stopping to look at you from time to time as she stuffs papers in it. Your eyes filled with expression, it comforts her to see the happiness that shines through them. It makes her smile too. 

..

The bell had rang, echoing through the hallways as the doors of classrooms slam open. The empty, hollow hallway is now bustling with everyone chattering and speaking to each other, giggling and laughing.

Winnie is by your side, the wavy hair girl walking with your arm linked to hers. “Cairo seems so into her final for Mr. Miller, don’t you think so?” She has the slightest accent, you slowly nod. 

“I guess so. She is a writer after all. Not to mention a talented one.” You go through the exits of Tennessee’s high school, stopping at one of the benches right at the exit. “I’m waiting here for Cairo, we’re going to finish our project, adding all the important stuff.” Winnie nods, handing you a lollipop as you take it. “Thanks.”

“See you, Y/N!”

You give her a small wave, watching her leave. 

…

It had been ten minutes since the bell rang, the students slowly beginning to die out. You’d call your mom once Cairo would come, you liked having conversations with her anyway. Chatters of students still quietly linger. You stand up, peeking through the gates, they’re closed.

Thirty minutes pass and a sigh escapes your lips, bored. Maybe Cairo is just having more questions to ask, like she always does. You plop the lollipop that Winnie gave you into your mouth, stuffing the wrapper in your jacket. 

It had been officially an hour and four minutes. You don’t even know why you waited this long. As if it couldn’t get any worse, rain begins to drizzle down, damping your hair. For the first time, Cairo left you out there, in the rain. You stare at your phone, gripping it so tightly that your knuckles spread to white. You try to wait for a text, anything so Cairo makes it aware that she’d be a little late, but it never comes. 

You call your mom, sniffling as you press your ear to the phone, kicking your feet across a puddle. You wipe your eyes, 

By the time your mom honks, waving you with a smile on your face, you weakly give one back, walking up to her. Wet clothes stuck to your figure, drenched and shaking. The look on her face gives it all, your mother sees through you no matter what. 

“Hi, honey. Where’s Cairo? Didn’t you say that she was going to come to ours today?”

You stiffen, throwing your soaked backpack in the backseat. Cairo didn’t even live that far. She always walks to school. “She’s busy,” you reply, turning away from her. You look out the window, sinking into your seat. “Like always.”

“But didn’t you two have that project, it’s due tomorrow, no?”

“Well she can’t make it, okay?” You mumble.

“Oh, well maybe she can come over some other time,” she leaves it at that. 

The more you think about Cairo, the more you feel sick, the lollipop disintegrated in your mouth.

You can’t help but feel the sweetness of the lollipop leave a new awful taste in your mouth. Your mouth fills with saliva, how it always does whenever you are upset. You swallow it down.

You did almost the whole project by yourself, you were up till 2AM.

So when school arrives the next day, you’re barely awake, turning it in and tired eyes completely avoiding Cairo’s gaze.

“8 minutes my ass,” you mutter while slamming the project into the turn-in basket.

-

From that day on, it just kept happening.

Like always, you somehow always manage to come back to Cairo. You can’t help it. To turn away those doe-like eyes makes you feel like you just murdered an innocent creature. 

Cairo Sweet. 

Sourness coats your tongue when her name rolls off of it. 

After countless stand-ups and sobbing in bed, even when you forgive her, you can sense that you two are drifting further apart. She’s been snapping at you a little more often, ignoring you sometimes, it makes you feel unloved. You don’t like it. You really don’t like it, yet you can’t stop it. 

“It’s that stupid final she’s doing, Winnie. Ever since Mr. Fucking Miller assigned to her, it’s like she hasn’t had time for anything. She only has the time when it comes to him, “ you rant, wiping your mascara stained eyes with your fingers. 

Winnie looks thoughtfully at you, a small frown tugging at her lips. She sighs, patting her thighs, “Come here, sweetheart.” 

When you crawl in between her and her comforter, she cuddles you. “Sometimes people are like that. They abandon things when they find a new thing to obsess over. Even when the things are the most important to them. It’s like they forget about what the thing did to make them feel so special and go running off to a new one because it makes them feel good.”

She strokes your hair as you sniffle into her neck. From her eyes, you looked so vulnerable. Like how you did when you first got into arguments with your parents. “I’m sure once that final is over, you two will be back into two peas in a pod. Three, including me at times,” she cracks a smile at you. 

You don’t respond, looking away, before mumbling, “Winnie, I don’t think it’s that final.”

“Yeah?”

“Cairo was writing about a prompt to answer what love was,” you look up at her, trying to make her understand. “I read some of it, and it was straight up smut, Winnie.”

You couldn’t believe it when you first read it. The way your eyebrows contorted, lips pursing into a tight line. You memorized one of the lines she wrote as you recited it out loud. “His fingers, long and ribbed, glistened with the arousal that gushed out of Alice’s heat like a riverbed-”

“Okay fuck that shit, who’s “he” exactly?”

“That’s the problem. It’s about a student-teacher relationship Winnie. The final isn’t the issue. She’s trying to convince herself that there's some connection between her and Mr. Miller.”

“That man is at least 80 years old-”

“50.”

“Whatever, but if Cairo is trying to experiment how far she can go with her charms. I’m going to be proud to take the trophy for who has the most reasonable crushes.”

“You cannot be talking right now Winnie.”

“Boris is a different story! But like, for anyone else, I’m an equal opportunist. I’d fuck you.”

“I know.”

“See, reasonable crushes.”

You roll your eyes, it doesn’t really make you feel better.

Winnie thinks for a moment, it’s silent, until you almost see a lightbulb flash above her head. “Cairo loves lantern festivals. She wouldn’t miss one for the world, what about this?..”

-

Your knee bounces up and down, waiting in your usual spot after school for Cairo. It’s the first bench under the tree. As you see her, you’re about to wave, until you see him. 

Mr. Miller walking Cairo out of his classroom, patting her shoulder before making eye contact with you briefly. You narrow your eyes as he gives a disgustingly sweet smile to her before turning away. You flip him off, like a fire burning behind your pupils.

Tell your baby that I'm your baby.

“Y/N!” she shouts, grinning as she walks up to you. “Hey!”

“Hi, Cairo.” you greet, offering to take her books, which she thanks.

“I’m almost done with my final essay for Mr. Miller. I think he’ll be able to write my letter of rec for college in the future. Probably going have to meet with him after school on some days.”

“Sounds fine,” you plainly respond, holding her books. “By the way, I was thinking that next Saturday we could spend some time together. Maybe Winnie can come too.”

The writer hums in contentment as you keep going, “I’ve never gone to a lantern festival before, and they’re holding one next week. It’s like 2 hours away and I really wanted to go with you.”

A flutter in your chest erupts as you see your favorite brown eyes shimmer. “Yeah,” she says, “Yes, I’d love to go with you!”

-

After the slow ticks of the clock and marks on the calendar, getting closer to the countdown, Saturday finally comes.

You hate the way it feels so long when you’re in school, waiting for the weekend, but it dashes by when summer break arrives. You especially hate it when you’re waiting for an event, it makes the time go by even slower.

Winnie kept patting your shoulder and teasing you about it. “Probably because you’re looking a bit too forward with spending time with Cairo.” She’d say. “I mean, I love lantern festivals! But you seem so much more excited than I am.”

An oversized tee gets draped over your figure, pairing it with blue jeans as you try to look decent before dashing out the house.

Your mom drives you, in which you're happily hoping to spend the night in Cairo’s bigger car. She told you she brought blankets and stuffies and everything. When you think about it, you grin through the refreshing breeze that blows in your hair.

“You seem extra happy, Sunshine,” your mom notices, smiling at you. “Just how I love you, always so bright.”

The afternoon sun illuminates through the city as minutes and hours pass, changing into a grassy meadow. You stick your head through the window, feeling alive every time the wind hits your hair. Everytime you close your eyes, you see the picture of endless floating lanterns lighting up the night sky. 

Like a scene out of Tangled.

You have to actually turn on the radio and sing your feelings out.

“Now she's here, shining in the starlight, Now she's here, suddenly I know. If she's here, it's crystal clear, I'm where I'm meant to go”

-

Two hours pass by, and you hop out of your mother’s car. “I’ll stay nearby, okay? Your aunt's house is only 25 minutes away.”

You nod, kissing her cheek goodbye as the clock hits 5:45. The grassy meadow surrounds you, slightly swaying from the breeze and glowing from the setting sun. You see people setting up their tents, so you lay down a towel and send Cairo a text.

y/n: hey! i’m here, i got us a seat. can’t wait to spend the night in your car!

Birds chirp along with the chatter of people around you. It soothes your body a little as you lean back and take a nap, your mind only on the excitement that you get to spend this moment with Cairo Sweet.

-

You wake up from the sound of fire crackling, your eyes adjusting to the lanterns that people are preparing to let go in about an hour and thirty, when the sun will completely set. The weather is cool, breezy, sunny, and the light blue sky plastered with fluffy clouds. You head to get some floating lanterns, noticing that Cairo isn’t here yet. Maybe it’s traffic.

A nagging feeling tugs in your gut as you hear the giggles of couples decorating the lanterns together.

As you head back with three large lanterns in your hand, you check your phone. No new messages, your shoulders fall to their sides, sighing.

“Y/N!” 

You immediately perk up from the call of your name, turning around and seeing Winnie, a bright smile on her face. You wave her over.

“Hi,” you say, looking at her hair that’s put down.

“Hey, cutie, what’s with the sour face?”

The silence is really all she needs as she goes, “Oh. She’s still not here? I thought I was really late.” That made you feel a little worse.

Cairo wouldn’t abandon you, sure she has canceled plans last minute thousands of times, or made you wait longer than usual, but not in the dark. Not in the dark knowing how much you looked forward to this. Your heart tugs again, your breath getting stuck in your throat.

It’s the same feeling your tiny self felt when your childhood best friend moved away, or a thousand times worse than realizing that the tooth fairy wasn’t real.

y/n: where r u? the festival is going to start soon.

Really hoping you’re not going to stand me up again, like the plenty of other times you did. You really wished you could have added that phrase.

6:30 and still no sign of her. You know you’ve cried like a little child because of her, you’ve tried to avoid her in every way possible. Yet no matter what, it always seems that the sweet girl you’ve known comes back to you moments later. 

She’s just running late. The tiny voice in your head says, to somehow calm your nerves down. Winnie squeezes your hand, urging you to decorate your lanterns together. So you force the growing lump in your throat with a painful swallow, nodding and beginning to draw flowers that somehow are Cairo’s favorite ones. “It’s going to be okay,” she softly coaxes, and you feel like crying into her arms. 

You really thought she wouldn’t do it this time. You really started to believe that she was good at heart for you. Maybe she could be. But you didn’t want to give her the chance anymore, you were officially drained.

The sunset envelopes you and Winnie in its eternal color of the sunshine, though the warm feeling is rather cold. Cold and ugly. You would’ve been used to it, but you drove 2 hours for her. You knew you could count on Winnie, but you traveled so far for Cairo to be able to spend time with her. Now it just seems like she’ll throw you away whenever Mr. Miller is around. 

-

She’ll talk about him almost anytime she can, it makes you feel insecure. Sometimes, you wish you could just shake her brain and tell her, “I’m right here.” You were there all along. You would be there when she needed it, but she was never there when you needed her. A moth to a flame.

Even when your heart cracks more and more, to love is to sacrifice, your broken hand is still holding on. Cairo is the only thing you’d ever know about love. 

Even when you tell yourself to get over it, to ignore her, you can’t help the way your heart turns into goo when she smiles at you. I won’t let go yet. You promise to yourself as she crashes her lips to yours, alcohol coating her tongue as you have the need for more. 

Take me, your heart sings as Cairo, drunk and wanting, tears the bottom of your blouse, the room filling with your breathy moans.

You need to let go, Your brain pounds against your forehead as you’re left in the dark of the movie theater, an empty seat next to you. A seat that was meant for your hand to hold hers.

Why do you manage to always forgive her? Believe that she’ll be “okay” this time? Why did you always let her in knowing that she would do the same thing once again?

-

7:30, the lanterns begin to lift off, your eyes half-lidded with unshed tears as you hold onto your floating lantern. Winnie turns to look at you, but you don’t look back, the small ember glistening against your glossy eyes. 

She was just late. She’d come. Your heart grows a little heavy.

“Hey,” she says softly, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “It’s going to be okay. Cairo is just stupid, she’s been stupid ever since Miller. But I don’t want to talk about her right now, okay? Let’s spend the night together and we’ll see what to do when it’s over.”

You still avoid eye contact, can you really just feel okay if someone tells you? That’s never worked for you.

A floating lantern symbolizes the hope of the moments ahead and being able to move on. To mark the start of a new beginning. Your eyes flicker to all the children with their family, smiling happily, the couples who are cuddling together as they prepare to let go of their lanterns. Every time you saw something like that, you thought of Cairo. You wondered if she ever thought of you.

I guess fate brought me here, you tell yourself. When your favorite person turns into a memory of a lesson. Gosh, you hated when you saw quotes like that, even worse now that you understood it with each tear that poured out of your eyes.

You cling onto the lantern like it’s the most important thing of your life as you shut your eyes. You think about Cairo, your best friend, someone that you always told yourself loved you. You hope she still did. Winnie feels your head placed on your shoulder as you finally let it go. Finally let her go as it flies away with the specks of others, lighting up the night sky. It was like a reminder that she was slipping away.

Tonight, you thought it would’ve ended differently as you watch it mix in with the glow of other lanterns, other wishes, other endings.

All those times you look into these eyes, even the ones that aren’t hers, you remember that her eyes that once admired you are gone. You’re watching her watching him.

You’re standing here, waiting for something that you knew for a long time might never come. Love’s a game of heartbreak. The latest you could do is slump down to the blanket and toss your body into Winnie’s, closing your eyelids and letting yourself relax. It was cold, yet you didn't bother to ask for a blanket.

“Y/N, baby. We gotta get going.” A voice, soft and sweet coaxes you awake. You're no longer on Winnie’s shoulder, but a lap that you know all too well. You scramble off of Cairo with your eyes wide, blinking, adjusting, before letting yourself cry.

Cairo hasn’t seen you cry in almost ages. Well you’ve never cried in front of her, but knowing that she stood you up again, arriving almost 3 hours later, it tells her a lot of how much you did when she wasn’t there. 

Her eyes look at yours that are closed, sniffle, “Hey, don’t cry. Why are you crying? I’m so sorry I missed this-”

“You’re never sorry!” You hiccup, forcing your shut eyes open, “If you were in all the times past, you wouldn’t have left me here again! I had my mom drive me 2 hours just so I could picture myself wishing you were beside me!” 

“I-”

When was the last time she made you feel like she actually loved you?

“It seems like you don’t need me anymore, Cairo. You find something else to obsess over and run away when I need you.”

“I do need you,” she argues, looking at you in disbelief. Yet you can see that a part of her knows that you’re right.

“Only when Mr. Miller isn’t here to make you feel good.”

“T-that’s not true!” She stammers, “You aren’t understanding what you’re saying-”

“I always want you when I'm finally fine, Cairo! That’s the problem with you! I can’t stop crawling my way back to you because my heart can’t beat without your reassurance, even if it’s just a sweet glance. But every time I’m standing here, you’re turning me away. And the only way for me to stop loving you is when I’m here, telling you how I’ve felt every single time you’ve left me in the dark for the attention of a 50 year old man that I’ve given you since the start! I’m not some toy that you need at moments- I-I needed you too.” You murmur, looking down, ashamed with the hot tears leaking out of your eyes.

It takes Cairo a moment to pull you back onto her, “I’m sorry,” she tries, her hand around your cheek. “I just.. I didn’t… He failed me on that final and I just needed to know why and I guess-”

“It’s okay,” you say, finally looking into her eyes while you put your hand away from your face. “I tried thinking that maybe it was that final for Miller, that you needed time to write something amazing for your final, like I knew you’d always do. But instead, you made your assignment obsessing over him.” 

Gosh you felt so stupid looking back at your naive self. “To see him in the hallways and talking to him while I stood there waiting for you, forgetting that I was even here in the first place.”

Cairo’s silent, eyes pleading as she tries reaching out for your hand, but you pull away. “I’m done waiting for you Cairo. Maybe you can pursue focusing on him more and don’t have to worry about focusing on me.” You bite back a shiver, your body shaking slightly.

She watches you turn away as Winnie wraps you in a blanket. Disappointment flickers in her best friend’s eyes as she helps you walk away. Cairo wishes, oh so terribly that you would turn back, to look at one more time, but you don’t.

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down.

You stop for a brief moment, about to hop into Winnie’s car, before turning to her, looking down at her shoes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough, Cairo. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I’m sorry it ended like this, I never met to hurt you.” She wants to say, but bites her tongue as your body slips away from sight, Winnie starting the engine. It was too late now.

Cairo made you wait, made you see a flicker of hope in her candle and she blew it. She made you wait in the cold.

-

She really wrote her story on your heart. But was it ever a good one? Maybe there were some that lingered freely in your heart, but her story would’ve never lasted like you wanted.

It was rare, she almost never saw you sitting on the same first bench. There were days where she immediately ran out of Mr. Miller’s classroom to push through the students just to go to that bench, to be reminded that you weren’t there to wait anymore. There was no one to wait for her anymore. The spot was always empty.

You’ll always want her when you are finally fine, even when you’d feel like your heart healed, it never would. Because you always needed her. You can’t heal without her.

Now every time your eyes meet in the hallways, you’re the first one to tear your gaze. Maybe it was just for the best. Tear your eyes away from her pretty ones before she tears your heart apart.

You wish that one day, when you meet her when you two are older, she’ll be the person you once knew. Your Cairo Sweet. The one that didn’t leave the sickening taste on your tongue.

[cas-edspace]

why the hell not:

Random Hermit Headcanons

———

Everyone is completely comfortable with being in hybrid form with Tango.

Anyone who normally hides it, just lets out the ears, wings, etc with Tango. He isn’t aware that not everyone has seen Etho’s face, ears, or that no one realizes that there are two vampires on the server. He also makes sure they eat, (dad) (acts of service) (and the vamps do not feed on Tango, because that gotta taste like lava or an equivalent)

—

…Just realized that I planned on adding someone to this random hc hc listing and he’s not even in Hermitcraft but who cares: Here’s one for Scott;

He’s a shapeshifter, and no one seemed to caught onto that yet. Not the floating crystals in Last Life or the fact he was suddenly half fish in Limited Life.

—

Doc and Martyn are jokingly “fighting” over Ren, but the guy somehow doesn’t realize? The pup is just rping as pirates, pirate rats, and his ears apparently doesn’t pick up “He’s mine” comments.

Zero braincells <3

—

Etho keeps thinking about the family dynamic from Limited Life, because Scar randomly calls Cleo Mom still and… gave himself a step parent? And reassigned Etho’s role?

(This is based off of the Hungry Hermit conversation:

Scar: I wanna see mom and dad play!

Tango: Yeah, sure, I’ll play

.

.

Etho: Who’s mom?

Tango: Does the answer change if you’ll play or not?

Etho: I’ll play (don’t remember exact line)

(^This actually happened, so did this v)

Scar lost his permits

Tango: *sighs* I’m going to sound like a total dad here, but where did you last have them? Retrace your steps.

Scar: (something something, doing this from memory is great, it is 2am) Alright, dads come over here

Etho and Tango follow

. . .

Etho is asking himself about the complexity of the dynamics, does Bdubs know about the new step parent? Did Scar tell him or is he supposed to- Is he overthinking the bit? Absolutely, and should he just forget it? Yes, but it creeps back up

—

Impulse is a dragon hybrid (not demon), which means he can talk to Jean, the Ender Dragon. And he does!

Doesn’t stop her from trying to kill him, though

Rest of ZITS make fun of him for this.

—

Speaking of Z, Zedaph wasn’t always a pink sheep hybrid

Cue stereotypical (cliche but I do like em) Lab experiment trauma- jk, no, he did that to himself. With science! …and not with using dyes, like he most definitely should’ve done. No one knows what other side effects that the experiments had may have caused him, but Zed is happy because he’s pink.

—

All older hermits have killed Watchers

Grian doesn’t know this.

Hermitcraft has proved itself again and again to not be easy pickings. There are reasons that the server is lasting.

—

Joel misses his wife- wait that’s just normal Joel-

—

Gem is Ares in God Games, in EPIC the Musical

Change my mind

—

Boogeyman kills leave permanently deep scars on the slain.

Bdubs once saw Tango without his shirt and… Seeing those long, jagged, deep as the day he got them scars that goes from his right shoulder to just above his left hip…

Bdubs now struggle sleeping through the night, seeing the marks he left…? The Boogeyman curse is not forgiving and makes it impossible to hold back. And Tango’s back proves it.

—

Doc can cheer…leading? He is a cheerleader. But not for the Dallas Cowboy ifykyk

—

Cub somehow cannot be trolled. we don’t know how he does it

—

When Pearl zones out, she’ll float upwards. Her dogs are trained to go get someone to help Pearl before she zones back in and falls to her (not) death. Being a ghost on a server is hard

—

Wild Life powers doesn’t fully go away. I’ll elaborate on a different post

Because this is too long, and it is 2:30 am now and I should sleep

[reveluving]

mother knows best ; phillip graves x reader x jeff sadecki

summary: mama knows love when she sees one. or three. 

warnings: mostly Phil & Jeff’s mom’s POV, mentions of angst (teen!Jeff cheating but not on you, family fights, parents passing away), very tiny allusions to s~mut (minors DNI!), loads of fluff towards the end, Mama Denise is yours and her boys’ number one fan 🩷

a/n: thought I’d use this chance to write this after this ask! this is based on this lil' post! I know Jeff’s mom is named Linda but this is about him and Phil, a.k.a. my mind, so say hello to Mama Denise! pls don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» interested in more of the series? find it here & here!

Denise Baker has always been a sweet lady. The epitome of a Southern’s hospitality. Married twice, first to a man named Danny Sadecki, then the second being Tom Graves after Danny passed away. They were good people. The best, feeling grateful each day for giving her the best gifts a hopeful mother could ever ask for. 

Two amazing boys. 

Keeping their last names rather than changing them to her maiden name was instinctive. At a one-year-plus age gap, Phil took after his mother’s Southern twang whereas Jeff followed his stepfather’s general American accent. They grew to be one happy family, and the brothers, despite their differences in interests and personality, would fight tooth and nail for one another.

But since Tom’s passing, the boys have been less lively, and understandably so. No matter how well they hid their sadness behind innocent smiles each time their mother was in the room, she could see right through them. She didn’t know what she did to earn such sweet boys, always attentive to their Mama at a young age, but she had always hoped to see the fire in them return someday.

That was until they met you. 

You and Phil were the same age, just beginning middle school with his brother somewhere a little further from the Bakers’ than the town’s high school.

The brothers had been waiting for their mother to pick them up when you slid next to Phil in the waiting chair. It was raining cats and dogs in Wiskayok, so you had to squeeze yourself into the bus stop to avoid getting drenched.

“Sorry,” You squeaked with a guilty smile when your shoulders touched.

Phil was beyond the age of believing in cooties, plus, he and Jeff were a mama’s boy, and she didn’t raise a woman (girl?)-hater. 

“S’okay.” His smile was half-hearted, a little miffed that he couldn’t get to the stand in time when it began raining, and at this point, Jeff had noticed your sudden presence. They’ve seen you before, especially Phil. You always sat in front of him in class, mostly seen with full of life and blinding smile with a missing tooth. 

“Your mom’s coming late, too?” Phil knew he didn’t have to make the conversation any longer than he’d like, but he had no reason to do that with you. You were so… nice, and yet, so respectful. Always giving him a wave instead of barging into his personal space bubble like a lot of his classmates did.

Plus, his mother was already thirty minutes late, what was there to lose?

“Yeah. My brother and I have been waitin’ for a lil’ while,” He replied with a shrug, pausing for a second before asking, “You?”

“Yeah, same,” You responded, though more lighthearted than he was, kicking your feet as you looked at the road, “It’s okay, though. Mom’s always busy. They’re probably tired. So long I’m not alone here, I’m not scared to wait for my mom.”

There you go, with your smile again. Phil couldn’t help but smile back, it was tiny but you could see the slight quirk of his lips. Jeff, too, found your positivity infectious and had been listening.

He had joined in on the conversation moments after. It was fairly light, with Jeff doing most of the talking, but that didn’t mean Phil wasn’t listening and chiming in once in a while. It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later when Denise came, rushing over to her boys with an umbrella and endless apologies. 

You were ready to say goodbye to the two and resume waiting on your own when Denise approached you with a motherly look. 

“Hi, darlin,” She crouched in front of you, with Jeff and Phil at a perfect height as they stood under her umbrella, “I’m Denise, Jeffrey and Phillip’s mama. What’s your name?”

You were a lot shyer with her, considering she was an adult, but you trusted her enough with your name since you kinda knew his youngest. 

“That’s a beautiful name,” Even with the heavy rain, her soft-spoken voice was hard to miss, “D’you know when y’mama will come pick you up?”

You shook your head, telling her that with your mother working at a busy cafe, it could vary. And like you told the boys, you were alright with waiting rather than daring to walk home since the bus stop was always full. Still, Denise, ever the kind-hearted woman, offered to drive you to your mother’s workplace. 

Denise understood that you were wary and good on you for being careful, but to her surprise, Jeff and Phil were nice enough to reassure you. And whether you agreed because of their mother’s gentleness, Jeff’s natural talent to make you feel comfortable with all three of them or even the hint of promise in Phil’s eyes that everything was going to be fine, Denise was glad you did. 

Your mother was extremely thankful, even offered to pay for their lunch for their next visit, but Denise refused and with the two becoming fast friends just as you were with Jeff and Phil, the rest was history.

Though, high school was… eventful, to say the least. While the two of you remained close, almost joined at the hip, you and Phil sometimes preferred backing off as Jeff’s popularity grew. Not that Jeff’s behaviour changed with the two of you, he was still the dorky, good-willed boy you knew.  

Although you and Phil may have fought a little with Jeff when he told you about his cheating on Jackie with Shauna. He broke up with Jackie soon after, but his decision to stay with Shauna may or may not have affected your friendship. You and his brother weren’t too keen on the idea of their own friend/brother being a cheater after all. 

Jeff especially hated it when it rocked what the two of you had. He was dumb enough to think ending up with Shauna or Jackie would make him forget his interest in you, and surprise surprise, it didn’t. The three of you stayed close friends, though he promised never to bring up about Shauna around you or Phil at all.

And then, high school ended. 

Phil’s decision to leave town for the Marines was not only the biggest shock to the neighbourhood but especially to his own family. Not that he didn’t have the means to be one, if anything, his mother and brother knew he’d be one of, if not, the best ones out there. He just never expressed his interest in military work at all. 

Throughout their years as a family, Mama had never seen the two fight so badly until Jeff discovered that Phil had been considering leaving Wiskayok, leaving their mother after they both finished community college. Though their fall-out didn’t last long, no more than two weeks, especially when their mother expressed her worries and sadness over their rocky relationship. 

Plus, Jeff didn’t want what strong bond he had with his brother to end just like that. He cared for his brother too much, and in their moment of vulnerability, he apologized for not doing more in their high school years. When some of his peers saw his little brother as his shadow rather than a person. Phil insisted that he barely cared about them, even flat out said they weren’t necessarily his friends unless it had to do anything with football. 

They hugged it out, and Mama was over the moon. Suddenly, the thought of Phil leaving for the military wasn’t as difficult, knowing that her boys were still going to keep in touch, and on a high note, no less.

He spent his last month in Wiskayok with you and your mother with the most mundane of things. 

But oh, how Mama’s emotions dipped when you, too, left shortly after your mother passed away. 

She couldn’t put it past you for doing so. How could she, when you’ve been nothing but an angel? A one in a million and she’d be damned if she convinced you to stay like a bird in a cage. As much as she and Jeff would love to, insisting that there was something for you in town, but just like with Phil, they didn’t. It was far too selfish of them, and you had so much potential. 

And as thankful as Mama was to have Jeff by her side at all times, there was someone else.

Shauna.

Shauna never sat right with her, no matter how far she was ‘willing’ to go to get to know her future mother-in-law better. Though the smile she brought out of Jeff was nowhere near as big or as wholesome as he was with you, there was a hint of guilt for feeling the way she did. Hoping you’d end up with one of her sons. 

But she wasn’t the only one thinking as such, but Jeff felt that he had lost his chance when you left.

So, he carried himself again to be a better person, especially when he truly believed Shauna was the one, much to his mother’s disbelief. Hell, she’d seen bigger smiles from him when he was with that Jackie girl before they broke up.

But her boy was insistent. 

Maybe, for once, her mother’s intuitions were wrong. 

And as the days went by, the possibility of Jeff putting a ring on Shauna grew higher, Mama did her best to accept her as her own. The two were civil at best, and no doubt that was enough for the two. 

But the years grew dull for the Sadeckis, and the second Jeff came knocking on his mother’s door at two in the morning, his wife not in sight, she knew she should’ve done more to stop what they had. 

It began with petty arguments, with Jeff being the one apologizing to Shauna, despite knowing she was in the wrong or if she began the fight in the first place. Then it became quarrels, something about her nonexistent book club when in reality, she had been meeting up with a man named Adam. 

Each time Mama received a call from her eldest, telling her that he and his wife ‘needed space’, she’d cook up a nice meal and make sure his old room was ready with the amenities he needed.

If it weren’t for Jeff’s attempts to calm his mother down, telling her it wasn’t worth the trouble, she would’ve marched down to Shauna’s front door and knocked some sense into her with a rolling pin. How dare she point her finger at Jeff, attempting to invalidate her own faults by saying it was him who cheated first during their years of marriage, thus, giving her the green light to do the same. 

Although yes, Jeff has done it once, when he cheated on Jackie, he regretted it. Immensely, especially seeing the disappointment in his mother’s face. Oh, how he apologized to her like he had committed the biggest sin of all, and frankly, he did. And though his mother was dismayed by his dishonesty, she knew when any of her boys truly regretted something.

Boy, never has he wished for things to turn out differently and still, he wanted to work things out, when he tried to show his mother what he saw in Shauna.

And she did, but she didn’t see what she or Jeff hoped she’d saw. The final straw was when his wife—his ex-wife disrespected his mother in her own house. He had given her many chances, forgiving her more times than he could count, but he could not stand for her raising her voice at his beloved mother. 

Denise had every right to feel grateful when the divorce happened, but that didn't mean she openly celebrated it in front of her son. But Phil was different, even went as far as having a congratulatory gift sent to their doorstep since he was still on duty. Despite knowing his brother was rolling in dough with his line of work, Jeff couldn’t help but gawk at the gifts, much to his mother’s amusement. A set of cashmere sweaters that probably cost anywhere from half to one grand, complete with a few bottles of fragrances and even one of the finest reds to commemorate the moment. Plus, a personalized rose-gold bracelet for Mama because why wouldn’t he want to spoil her at any given chance?

And though he and his mother did enjoy a few sips after moving back into the Bakers’ house, he couldn’t help but wonder how you were doing.

But he didn’t have to wait for long.

The day you and Phil returned to Wiskayok, standing in front of Mama’s door, she nearly dropped to her knees. Not only has she missed her youngest boy, despite his efforts in calling and texting and visiting in secret each time his deployment ended, but she most certainly missed you, too. It was your first time visiting since the very day you left, after all. Phil didn’t take it to heart when his mother scolded him for not telling her that the two of you were colleagues and maybe were together.

In reality, though, she had a feeling that you were still around. Closer than what you made them believe.

There were days when Phil had a chance to call his mother, and she’d suddenly bring you up. Wondering aloud if you were alright, how life was treating you in God knows where, and somehow, Phil’s confidence in his responses, telling her that he was certain you were doing well, she believed him. Word for word. As if she knew he was with you throughout your journey to find yourself, just like he did.

And she’d be right when the universe reunited you and Phil on the battlefield. When Shadow Company joined forces with 141 and Los Vaqueros, not expecting to find the girl of his dreams amongst the chaos and in those years, you laughed, you smiled, you wept and you released yourself for him and him alone. Finally acknowledging what the two of you were afraid to address as teenagers all those years ago.

Phil couldn’t imagine bringing his walls down for someone other than you and though like with everyone else, he still kept up the proud and almost infuriating act, no one else had the privilege to see the more caring, affectionate side of him except for you.

But Mama wasn't the only one surprised by the revelation.

On the first night of your arrival, Jeff didn't talk much, instead, hanging on to your every word. From the very moment you reached the city alone for the first time, till the very day you carried yourself into your team and reunited with Phil. How you even remembered the gifts you were meaning to give him and their mother in the middle of the conversation. And as the night fell, you insisted on booking a hotel not far from the neighbourhood.

Oh, how Mama has missed the old days when she'd tell you to stay over, making sure to call your mother about your whereabouts. While she wouldn’t dream of replacing your mother, it was understandable how her attentiveness for you has skyrocketed, now that she knew you and his son were coming over much more often. 

Still, she had conditions, eyeing Phil with a knowing look before telling him that you’d be staying in the guestroom. Still spick and span for hopeful days like these. Phil's cheeky smile was worth a thousand words, knowing his mother had caught on to what type of little games the two of you played. Her eye-roll was good-natured, even letting out a hearty laugh when she caught the embarrassed look on your face.

Throughout your stay, she saw how your relationship with Phil blossomed, and how the more-than-friendly feelings between you and Jeff were beginning to rekindle. How her sons’ true emotions—their true colours were showing in that same very house as it always did, as if nothing had changed. Mama knew there was something more to the loving looks they’d give you whenever you looked away.

And when she saw the three of you hanging out and sitting close in the backyard patio, watching the stars and laughing over a stupid stunt one of them had done as kids, she knew that you and her boys were going to be A-ok.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: we love mama denise. ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[elexaria]

it was hard for simon to grieve when johnny died. price turned an eye when they got back to base and the first thing simon did was go and lay in johnny’s cot, curled up into a ball. they were close, they were best friends.

he feels a pang of guilt at johnny’s funeral, the sound of bagpipes overwhelming his already heightened senses. one of the mactavish sisters stops in her tracks and makes her way over to simon, who’s stood smoking by the floral donations. “i’m sorry for yer loss, ghost.” she whispers out to him, teary eyed and sniffly. he blinks down at her, albeit slightly confused. “pretty sure i’m the one supposed to be sayin’ that to you.” he replies with a dry writ, clearing his throat as he nods down at her. she lets out a quiet laugh, albeit a saddened one. it’s a brief interaction on an unfortunate occasion, but it lets simon come to realise something— johnny loved him.

simon’s not one for wakes, but he’s not one to pass up a good buffet. yet, for some reason, he finds himself awkwardly stood in the corner of the room, his weary eyes watching everyone converse. johnny’s mom, eileen, makes her way over to simon— and it’s crazy how much johnny looked like his mam, same smile, same deep blue eyes that simon became rather fond of.

“my john even got his beard from me,” eileen jokes, laughing her head off as she rubs her peach fuzz. it makes simon’s lips twitch, a chuckle rumbling in his throat. the chuckles dissipate, when ms mactavish reaches out to stroke simon’s cheek. simon riley’s not one for showing his face, but he wanted to do this for him. at first, simon has to fight against every muscle that wants to recoil out of her touch, to scuttle away further into the corner he finds himself stood in. but instead, his nostrils flare as he peers down at the little scottish lady that’s affectionately rubbing his cheek, and it’s almost as if johnny’s still there. “he loved ye, simon. i wish we could’ae met ye when our john was still around.”

simon can’t bear to watch as johnny’s room is packed up, he feels sick to the stomach. it makes everything worse, seeing him being physically scrubbed from base, from the only resemblance of a home simon’s ever had. laswell leaves a small box outside of his quarters, giving him a curt nod as she lets him pick it up and bring it into his room. it brings a smile to his face, just for a moment, as he cradles the cardboard box in his arms— a threadbare scottish flag johnny had pinned up on his wall, some of his old action figures he had kept from childhood, a few sketchbooks. and a note.

his stomach knots up at the sight of the letter, shakily placing it besides him as he flips through the sketchbooks first, the pads of his calloused fingers stroking fondly over every graphite smudge and ink blot on the pages. finding himself laughing hysterically over johnny’s drawing of price’s dick tickler moustache, and he nods in agreement that it should, indeed, be neutralized. the little scribbles of football scores, shitty and dirty limericks and even coffee cup rings on the pages just… it makes simon feel like he’s inside johnny’s mind, and it feels homely.

simon’s heart aches when he comes across the sketches of himself in johnny’s sketchbook, eyes welling up as he fights back the onslaught of tears that threaten to patter down onto the precious pages below. they were so beautiful. they made ghost, a husk of a man, look… alive. and he begins to breathe heavier, seeing small love hearts and silly cartoon drawings of johnny and simon doing stupid shit— like the time johnny and simon came up with a wager that if neither of them settled down come their mid-30s, they’d move to the countryside and get a dog or two.

why the fuck did you have to go and die for, johnny?

the sketchbook tour comes to its conclusion, the final sketchbook only half way through before, well, the artist passed. and so, the letter sits, almost as if there’s a spotlight casting down on it — screaming out to be read. it really gets on simon’s nerves how his hands will not stop shaking, but he pulls through and begins to open up the envelope that reads ‘for ghosty and ghosty only’, the underside of the envelope reading ‘i mean it!!’ with an angry face. it makes simon’s stoic expression crack into a grin, rolling his eyes as he continues to open it up.

the letter reads:

“well pal, if you’re reading this, it means i’m dead as fuuuck. oh well, it’s something we have to accept in our line of work, innit?

maybe i’ll get really lucky, you won’t have to read this letter and we can just laugh about it when we’re retired, living our best lives in the countryside with our wee dugs. cos you know you’ll never settle down, monsi, i’m the only bastard out there who can handle you!!!

but … on the odd chance i’m wrong (which is rarely the case cos i’m handsome and smart), it was great knowing you. you’re the bestest friend a mug like me could ask for, and i’m glad we found each other. gay, i know. whatever. i fucking love ya, pal. always and forever. dickface!!!

in another lifetime, maybe we can find each other again. although, don’t know if i can handle you being a brit again in this alternate universe haha. i don’t love you that much!!!

all my love,

yer johnny xx”

an emotional chuckle escapes from simon’s lips, tear stained cheeks flushing a light crimson colour as he sharply inhales, eyes shutting tightly as he holds the note to his chest. and for the first time, in a very long time, simon allows himself to cry. heaving his chest, snotty nosed as he really sobs it all out.

his entire life, he’s been beaten down, abused, witnessed family (both blood and found) being killed. but losing his best friend no, his soulmate, is the very thing that breaks his heart the most.

maybe, in another universe, johnny missed that bullet. and right now, in that universe, johnny and simon allow themselves a moment to breathe, comfortable in each other’s presence.

in another universe.

[her-power]

The End of All Things (e.m. x fem reader)

C/W: 18++++ MDNI, I'm serious! Sweet! Eddie, smut, fluff, fingering (f receiving) oral (f+m receiving) unprotected p in v (don't be silly, wrap your willy!) making out, swearing, grief, hurt/comfort, parentloss, death, talk of death, best friends in love summary: This takes place 5 years after the events of S4. Midsummer 1991. Eddie & reader are in their mid twenties. Eddie is your best friend and has come to you after an unimaginable loss you just endured. You realize your feelings for him during this time, and sweetness and sexiness ensues. I originally was going for a subtle smutty-ness, but I got carried away, whoooops. (I suck at summaries, I'm so sorry)

A/N: This is based off of a life changing event that happened to me when I was seventeen. A lot of it has actual conversations/reactions from said event. This was insanely therapeutic for me to write, and I thank you all for reading this if you do, this goes out to all the ones who suffered a loss and are still actively healing. I see you, you are a rockstar and keep going <3 I also pay a little homage to Matthew Perry/Chandler Bing. I'm still not over it and Chandler will always be my comfort character like Eddie. This may have multiple parts, I also semi-proofread this, sorry for any mistakes! The title is a Panic! At the Disco song, it's been on repeat for awhile for me and I think it's perfect for this so definitely take a listen to it after you read this.

Word Count: 7.5k

“She’s gone.”

Your breath hitches as you stare at the wide amber eyes of your father from where you sat on the couch. He was clasping your hands tight as you stared at him. Your throat tightens.

“You’re lying.” A smirk tugs at your lips, this was a joke. The second those words left your lips you felt something cold creep up your spine, turning your stomach into knots.

“Honey, I’m not. She’s gone, she—” 

You stand up fast, ripping your hands out of his. Your bottom lip trembles as you feel your tears burn the corners of your eyes. 

“You’re lying!” You yell at him. “Where’s Mom?! Where is she?! You’re lying!”

Your father drops his face into his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs. You knew he wasn’t lying; you knew it. It didn’t mean you had to believe it.

She wasn’t dead. She wasn’t dead.  Wasn’t. Dead. She’s dead.

Those words swirl in your mind as you quietly groan. Your fingers clench at the hem of your black camisole, pulling and tugging at the thin material, feeling too hot, too tight. 

“N-no…” You whimper, your vision blurring as you stare at your distraught father.

Your very core burns, it stings, and you couldn’t tell if you had a heartbeat. Is that what she felt? You wonder.  Hunching forward, the pain in your chest was building and building as you loudly gasp.

“Nooooooooo!” You wail loudly. You find yourself pumping your legs towards somewhere, anywhere. An escape.

The door.

You swallow back bile as you push your front door open with your shoulder, you awkwardly stumble down the front steps, and the cool midsummer air caresses your face as your feet hit the paved driveway. You gasp again, gripping at your chest, and then you scream.

You didn’t know you could make a sound like that. A sound that was full of pain, full of anger, full of a feeling of invisible hands squeezing your heart until it bursts in your chest. Your scream echoes through the quiet neighborhood; you inhale another shaky breath, nails clawing at your stomach as you wail again. 

A dog barks in the distance, a porch light turns on, then another. You swear you just heard someone say your name. You lift your head to the sky; the stars were so visible and beautiful that night, looking like small freckles kissing the dark sky.  Your legs tremble beneath you, they’re numb, and you feel them start to buckle-

Strong arms grab you from behind, wrapping protectively around your middle; hot breath hits the back of your neck. Cool metal from ringed fingers touches your skin, hugging your arms to your chest as you let out another heartbreaking wail.

“It’s me, it’s me, sweetheart."

Eddie.  Your best friend since you moved to this shitty town ten years ago. Your sweet, chaotic, beautiful Eddie.  Your legs finally give out and he gently cradles your back against his chest, resting his forehead against your bare shoulders, feeling the roughness of hard pavement as your bum hits the ground. Your head leans back against his shoulder, his curly hair tickling your cheek ever so softly.

“H-how…” You try to form words; they were caught in your throat; you weren’t even sure if you had a voice anymore.

You wanted to ask how he got to you so fast, and if he could hear you all the way from his trailer a mile away. You’re practically sitting in his lap; his calloused fingers gently smooth out your mess of waves in your hair. Your vision blurred with hot tears as you could feel the Earth shattering beneath you. His hands find your face, his fingers cup behind your ear as he turns your face to his gently.  Only the soft light from the front porch light illuminated his handsome features.  Eddie. Your Eddie.  His big brown eyes are wide as he stares at you, he looks terrified. He has never seen you this way before. You called him a few hours ago in the afternoon to tell him your mom had to go to the hospital for an emergency surgery, that you had to stay home to wait by the phone for updates from your father and you would promise to call him when you knew more. You were supposed to go to his place to smoke some weed and order pizza, a traditional Thursday night thing for you both. You figured he probably wondered what was taking so long, it had been hours. And for as long as you have known Eddie Munson, he didn’t have much patience; it was hard for him to sit still. Your fingers twirl the ends of his hair as you try to focus on him. 

“Tell me.” He says quietly.

You can already see tears forming in his eyes, and you suddenly realize this is the closest you’ve ever been to him. Your noses were almost touching. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head from side to side, spitting and blubbering out more tears as the pain tightens its grip on your heart once more.

“I can’t.” You manage to gasp out. “Don’t…Eds, don’t make me say it.”

His hand cups over his mouth as he stares at you, realization settling on his face. 

“No…” He inhales sharply. “No, Y/N…there’s no way.” 

A memory flashes in your mind just then, a memory from only a few months ago.

You sat on the counter in the kitchen with your mom and Eddie as she made dinner. She was making his favorite chicken parmesan because it had been the five-year anniversary since he was no longer a suspect of those murders that had occurred that Spring. Your parents never believed he had anything to do with it, and it was your mother standing up for him at the town meeting that really helped his case, partially because the entire town was afraid of a hard-headed strong woman who grew up in South Boston, Massachusetts and also there was no evidence at any of the scenes of his involvement, or that he was a Satan worshipper.  The other kicker was that Jason had disappeared, and everyone just assumed he did it after that. However, it didn’t stop the town from calling the cops every time they saw him walking somewhere or blasting Metallica from his speakers in his trailer. When your mom had her back turned, he attempted to stick his finger in the boiling pot of homemade meat sauce. Your mother wasn’t stupid, you swore she had eyes on the back of her head. She poked him in the side with the ladle handle, causing him to yelp.

“Come on! Just one taste! I promise I won’t ask for anymore until it’s ready. I’m STARVING.” Eddie pleaded, giving her a pathetic puppy dog look. 

“Kid, get out of my kitchen. I’m not falling for that look again, I got stuck with you for ten years!” Your mother chuckles, stirring the sauce. 

“You got stuck with a very handsome, talented, super funny son you always wanted! Did I mention handsome?” He towers over her and had sweetly rested his head on her shoulder, giving her a goofy grin.  Your mother used the palm of her hand to push his face away and laughs.

“It’s my caring daughter’s fault for LITERALLY dragging you out of the mud that summer.” 

Eddie looks at you, his smile reaching his eyes. “Yeah, your daughter is pretty awesome.”

He winks at you, and you roll your eyes, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks. 

“Don’t kiss my ass, Munson.” Your mom laughs. “I’m sending you home a plate for your uncle, and you better give it to him this time!"

“He politely declined!”

“No he didn’t, you ate it on the way there!” You banter back at him. He whips his head around to look at you, his face falling in mock betrayal. 

“You are not my best friend anymore!” He wraps an arm around your mom’s shoulders and kisses the top of her head. “She’s my best friend now!”

You roll your eyes and laugh, hopping off the counter and making your way back to your room, but not before hearing your mother say this to Eddie:

"Everyone is out of their damn mind for not getting to know you or love you like we do. Jokes aside, honey, I can never ever replace your own mother, but I will make damn sure that you know that you can always come to me for anything.”

“Awww, Mrs. Y/L/N. Don’t make me blush-ow!” He laughs, you’re guessing she pinched him.

“I’m serious, Munson.” 

“I know, I know.” You can hear the smile in his tone. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.” 

You stare him now; he’s trying so hard not to cry. 

“Fuck.” His voice shakes and he pulls you into his arms for a hug.“Fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” 

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his Motley Crue t-shirt. Your mouth muffled by his shoulder.

“I’m sorry too.” You whimper. He hugs you tighter, and you can’t help but completely melt into his arms. 

Your father had left the house the same night. Your mom’s brother lived an hour away, who was completely beside himself over the loss of his little sister. You could see that your father was exhausted, that he was tired of making fall calls and answering the phone. You could tell he wanted to go see his brother-in-law. He was already talking about arrangements, and you pretty much forced him to go see your uncle, that the arrangements could wait and that everyone needed to clear their head because she had just died. You assured him that Eddie didn’t plan on going anywhere and that she wasn’t going to be alone, that Wayne was aware of what had happened and knew where he was.

You sat on the floor of your living room an hour after your father had left. The rotary phone was at your hip, the receiver at your ear before you slammed it down and yanked the cord from the wall. You were over the phone calls too. The cops were called, apparently a neighbor had saw Eddie “lurking” around your house and assumed that was the cause of your screaming.  You were too pissed, too grief stricken, too exhausted to bite your tongue. You had snapped at Office Hopper, but as always, he handled your snapping as graciously as he always did.

“Who was it?” You snapped. “Mrs. Hansen, right? That bitch always had a problem with us because my mother was so outspoken. She could never say shit to her face but would say it to our other neighbors. Well, guess what Kathy! SHE’S DEAD NOW!” You scream out your front door, Eddie’s hands were on your shoulders, gently pulling you back in the doorway.

“Easy, easy.” He mutters in your ear. 

“Y/N. There’s no need to yell, I’m so incredibly sorry for your loss, but when we get a call that is concerning like that, we have—"

“Why is he still being targeted as the town freak? He has done nothing wrong, ever! We’re not in school anymore, we’re practically grown-ups. We work, we play nerdy games, and we listen to music. Come on, Hop. You know she didn’t call over concern for me. She hates me.”

Hopper sighs, taking off his hat. “You have to be respectful to your neighbors. You know this. Especially…” He lowers his voice and leans closer to you. “Especially the ones who call when a cat shits on their lawn.” 

A smile tugs at your lips, and your face softens. 

“Get some rest kid. Let us know if you need anything.” He glances at Eddie. “Take care of her, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nods. “Yeah, I know Hop. Thanks.” He says softly.

You shut the door quietly and lock it. You glance at the clock, not believing it was after midnight. You comb your fingers through your knotted hair.

“I’m going to wash up. I need to scrub this fucking night off me.” 

He nods at you, and you gently squeeze his hand as you walk by him into the bathroom. Eddie watches as you walk away, his breath hitching as soon as you close the bathroom door. He runs his hands through his hair and shudders. Eddie was usually pretty good with his words, most of the time he could never stop talking, but tonight, he had none. He had no idea how to comfort you, he had no idea what to say, or what to do. He loved your mother.  That woman took him in like her own with no questions asked and it got to a point where Wayne would offer her money, which she would always refuse. She was the only one besides Wayne to defend him after the murders and all the bullshit with Hellfire. You had told him that Hopper had to practically restrain her from punching one of the mechanics who wanted to go on a witch hunt to find you; you told him you had never seen Hopper so scared for another human being.  Eddie has tears form in his eyes and he quickly swallows them back, groaning quietly from the stinging and aching in his chest. Your mother treated him like a son, and he knows he would never feel that again and that hurt. It also hurt that Eddie had never told her how he felt about you, how for so many years he would be brave enough to pull her aside and say something but would pussy out last minute. Eddie wanted your mother’s approval. It had been like that for ten years. Yeah, he slept around, wasn’t a virgin by any means, but none of them ever stuck. All those girls, those women, he always wished it was you. He loved you; he loved you so much, but now, he wasn’t sure if he could ever tell you.

You peel off your clothes after you begin filling the bath, you stare at yourself in the mirror. You look like you aged fifteen years in a few hours. Blood shot eyes, hair a wild mess, cheeks crimson from all the screaming and tears. You sigh as you step into the bath, the water hot and you wince as you feel every muscle unclench as you slide into the porcelain, until just your head is exposed above the water. You stare up at the tile on the ceiling, marking each corner that had cobwebs that you made a mental note to clean. You close your eyes, inhaling a breath as you sink your whole face under the water. The sounds are muffled, the sound of the faucet still filling the tub vibrates around you.  You wonder what it felt like, what she felt. Did her heart stop first? Or her brain? Did she know she was going to die? You open your eyes underwater, your chest clenches again and you stop holding your breath. Your mother’s lifeless face flashes in your mind and you gasp in water, quickly lifting yourself up, knocking over the shampoo bottles. You sputter and cough out the water you had just inhaled. Tears spring to your eyes and you begin to sob and suddenly felt so, so alone.

“Eddie.”  You groan out, but your voice felt small. “Eddie!” You call again, the tears still spilling. 

You hear a shuffling of footsteps outside the bathroom door, and a soft knock. “Are you alright in there?”

You had forgotten you were naked and submerged in water as you lean forward to turn the faucet off. You felt insanely vulnerable, but you needed to clean yourself up. You just didn’t want to be alone.  You bring your knees up to your chest, resting your cheek on your knee, doing your best to cover your breasts and torso. The lower half of your body was hidden by the soap bubbles. 

“You can come in.” You tell him meekly, wiping away the hot tears.

You knew he hesitated, it took him a few moments to respond. “Are-are you sure?”

“Yes, I just need…I just need someone in here with me.” 

The latch on the door clicks open, and he slowly pushes it open with his toe. His eyes were already averted to the ceiling as he walked in, trying his best to be respectful. 

“You can look at me, Eddie. It’s okay.” Wow, you thought to yourself, you were feeling brave.

A blush rises to his cheeks, and he meets your eyes, breathing a sigh of relief when he could only see your bare shoulders, legs and back. He sits on the floor next to the bathtub, leaning his back against the wall and looks at the side of your face. 

“Talk to me.” He says sweetly, resting his chin against the lip of the porcelain.

He watches you make the washcloth swim back and forth in front of you, and he gently leans towards your hands, taking the cloth from you. He waits for you to say something, but you don’t. He takes the small bottle of body wash and squirts a glob of it on the cloth, gently massaging it into the fabric. Your heart was racing, and you hear him inhale a shaky breath. He kneels up a little, the warm washcloth hits your skin so gently as he carefully traces circles around your shoulders. You shudder, a warmness settling in your tummy. 

“What am I gonna do?” You say quietly, tears burn your eyes again and you groan, you were tired of the tears.

Eddie swallows hard, gently moving a piece of your hair back to wash your neck. This felt foreign to you, this semi-erotic moment of him touching you like this, so sweetly, so gently. Your Eddie.

“I don’t know.” He says to you. “I wish I did, but I don’t.” 

You lift your head to look at him, seeing a blush creeping up as the hills of your breasts are exposed. You watch him as he concentrates on your back, gently moving the cloth up your neck, your eyes flutter close. He dips the washcloth in the water and squeezes out the excess, pausing before moving his way towards your lower back.

“You know whatever you need, I’m here. Okay?” He tells you and you nod. He gently wipes away an exposed tear from your cheek. “You’re kind of stuck with me at this point.” 

Your face scrunches up in mock annoyance and he laughs, you chuckle. “Yeah, I know. Thank you.” 

He's looking into your eyes now and your eyes dart to his lips, before looking back into his eyes. He quickly glances away to finish washing your back and you turn your body towards him so suddenly, water splashes up and he drops the washcloth. You don’t know where this feeling came from, how you just wanted to continue to be touched by him, be loved by him. Was it the grief? You weren’t sure, but you sure as hell wanted to feel something else besides the fucking horrendous pain. Your hands are on his shoulders, the wetness from you dampened the ends of his hair as he stared at you with wide eyes. 

“What are you doing?” He whispers, his hands reaching up to cup your wrists.

You could tell he didn’t want to overstep, and he kept his eyes just on you, your eyes. He was a gentleman in all the right ways; but he desperately wanted to look at your body. You were fully exposed to him besides your lower half, and he had dreamt of a moment like this. Your hands touch his cheeks, your nose barely grazes his.

“Kiss me, please?” You say quietly, and his breath hitches.

His hand cups the back of your wet hair, pulling you towards him slightly as your breathing picks up. You could feel him tremble as you lean closer, your breasts pressing against the coolness from the porcelain, your nipples hardening at the contact. You push your mouth onto his, his plush lips as soft as you imagined they would be. He uses his other hand to cup your neck, you opened his mouth with yours, feeling his tongue enter your mouth so carefully. You were kissing your best friend. You were kissing your best friend. You were kissing Eddie. Your Eddie.

You wrap both arms around his shoulders, and his hands wraps around your middle. He was getting comfortable, years and years of his love for you was spilling out in this exact moment. You feel him lift you so easily out of the tub, awkwardly stumbling into the wall. Not realizing how strong he was, he grabs your ass, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. You could feel his clothes soaking from the contact of your wet skin and could feel the wetness that pooled between your legs as he kept kissing you, blindly searching for the handle of the door. The cool air from the living room air conditioner hits your bare skin, causing gooseflesh to prickle all over you. You push your body against his more, deepening the kiss and he groans, bumping into everything you both contacted. Pictures became crooked on the walls, you heard something tip over from a few of the shelves, and you finally make it to your bedroom door. Your back hits it a little roughly, and he pulls away from you to catch his breath before pressing his mouth to yours again and he finds the doorknob with one hand as the other continues to hold you up. You both fall to your bed with an oomph, you start laughing hard because your head had clunked against the headboard, and he looks at you with wide eyes.

“Shit.” He breathes out, pulling away from your lips and laughs. “I’m sorry, are you okay?” 

You smile at him and nod, your lips pulsating from the kissing. He smiles down at you, rubbing your cheek, your hair, his hand gently smooths its way down your bare arms, towards your hips. He’s still looking at you, wanting to make sure it was okay for him to really see you before going further. You rub his cheek, and he leans into it, gently kissing your palm as he hovers above you. He was still trembling, and you take his hand, placing it on your skin below your breast. His calloused fingers squeeze the spot gently, his fingers barely grazing the underside of it as you watch his throat bob. He leans towards you and kisses your lips gently, leaning back on his heels as his eyes dart over your body. You bend your knees ever so slightly; he places his hands on your knees and kneels between your legs. He lets out a sigh and smiles sweetly at you and pulls off his shirt. His fingers trace a soft line over your ribs, he makes circles over your navel, the soft skin at your hips. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers to you, he chuckles awkwardly. “I mean, you’ve always been beautiful to me, not that just your body is beautiful. Your face is beautiful too, and your heart. All of you, everything—”

“Eddie, take a deep breath.” You smile, moving your palm up his torso and cupping his cheek.

He laughs, inhaling deeply, and places both hands on the side of your head as he leans down, your legs wrap around his jeans, feeling his eager bulge through the zipper. He kisses you softly, pulling away to look into your eyes. You could see tears form at the corners of eyes and you hold his face in your hand.

“What? What is it?”

He sighs, leaning up on his elbow. “For so many years, I wanted to tell your mom something that had been eating at me.” He groans, a single tear falls down his cheek and you wipe it away. “I wanted to tell her how insanely in love with you I was…I am.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, your heart does a back flip, and you feel your own tears prickle your eyes. 

“I know it doesn’t mean much now, because she’s gone…fuck.” More tears spill from his eyes, you wipe them away, he holds your hand to his cheek. “I loved her. I loved her so much and she became a mother to me at a time when I really needed her, and she always told me I could tell her anything. I should’ve told her how I felt about you sooner, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

Your heart broke for him. You knew how much he really did love your mom. Their relationship was for sure that of a mother and son. He had called her one night from the Hideout in the middle of the night because he got into a fight with a stupid townie and she’d bring him back to your house, cleaning up his wounds and comforting him. One night he had fallen asleep on your couch from a night of too much drinking, and she tucked him in, placing a large cooking pot next to him in case he had to puke. She would do so many motherly things for him that he wasn’t used to, and once he was finally comfortable enough to accept those gestures, he felt like a little boy again.  You bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling and you give him a smile.

“I think she knew.” You curl your fingers through his hair.

“How?” He asks you.

“I never really thought much about it at the time, but she would throw subtle ‘son in law’ jokes at me and I would just ignore her. Because you were my best friend, there was no way you’d feel any other way than that. Or so I thought.” 

You trace an outline on his lips with your finger. “You love me?”

He nods, not bothering to wipe another stray tear away. “More than you know.” 

“I love you, too.” You tell him softly and he smiles.

“Yeah? You sure?”

You roll your eyes, tugging a piece of his hair and he yelps. “Don’t make me take it back.”

He laughs, caressing your face with the back of his hand, smoothing out your wet hair. He leans down, kissing you softly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him onto you, he lets out a hot breath as you push your tongue in his mouth. His hands travel down the dip in your shoulder, down the middle of your chest and stops on the curve of your breast. You feel the coolness of his metal ring against your skin, your nipple hardens, and you gasp in his mouth when you feel his fingers gently pinch the hardened bud. His mouth finds your throat, leaving kissing trails down to your shoulders, still pinching and squeezing your breasts as you squirm beneath him. His mouth takes your nipple in his mouth, and you hear him softly moan as he gently bites down. His tongue swirls around the bud and sucks, and you arch your back. His hand travels down your navel and over your sex. You whimper when you feel his fingers spread your lips apart and he runs a finger over your clit. He pulls away from your breast and kisses you hungrily, his fingers tracing circles around your clit, pushing down and he smirks against your lips when you let out a loud moan. No one has ever taken their time with you; you have only had sex with two men in your life and it was always you finishing them off first and them being “too tired” to return the favor. Eddie knew what he was doing, you knew this wasn’t his first rodeo, and you desperately wanted to know what else he could do. He pulls away from your lips, licking and kissing a trail all the way down to your navel. He leans back on his heels, and your eyes widen at the outline of his hardened cock beneath his jeans. He places his fingers in his mouth, sucking off the taste of you and you squirm at how sexy he looked. You bend your knees and open your legs wider. 

“Damn.” He mutters, scooting back to lay in front of your dripping cunt. He wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer to his face. “You really are beautiful.”

He kisses your clit gently, you arch your back, gripping at the sheets beneath you. His tongue swirls around the sensitive nerves, and he sucks on it, letting out a loud groan. It vibrated your entire body, and you moan. His fingers press into the meat of your thighs as he buries his face closer, his tongue lapping at your hole as you could already feel yourself about to burst. You grip his hair, tugging on it hard, which sends him into a frenzy, and you feel two fingers slide their way into you. 

“Eddie…”  

You moan his name, and he begins to pump those fingers into you, pressing against the sponginess of your g-spot. He continues to devour your clit and you lean up on your elbows to watch him. You couldn’t believe this was happening, you couldn’t believe that your best friend of ten years was doing these things to you.  Your Eddie.  He pulls away from your clit, feeling you clench around his fingers, and he slinks his way back up your body, his chin wet and dripping of you. He kisses you passionately, you moan at the taste of yourself, and he continues pumping his fingers in and out. His thumb finds your clit and rubs circles, you hold onto his shoulders as he kisses you, feeling yourself close to release. He pulls away from your lips for a moment.

“Come on, baby. I know you can cum for me.” His voice was lower, almost deeper.

Those words almost sent you over the edge, words you never in a million years thought would come out of his mouth. He pumps harder and groans as your hand finds his cock through his jeans and you rub your hand over the material. You dig your nails into his shoulders, and he lets out a hot breath against your neck, whimpering at the sheer intensity and passion.

“Fuck, Eddie…”  

You moan out in pleasure and he groans against your neck. You feel the pressure building and building in your lower belly and you cling onto him as your orgasm rips through you and you cry out. He keeps his fingers inside of you, riding the orgasm out with you, the overstimulation was insanely uncomfy but as he kept pumping into you, you eased into another hard orgasm and your body shook beneath him. He slides his fingers out of you, you catch your breath as you continue to cling onto him. His hands grip your hip, and he looks at you, a smile creeping on his lips. You sigh, crashing your lips against his, unbuttoning his jeans hurriedly and sliding them off. His lips graze against your ear lobe and you roll him onto his back with your legs and he giggles. You laugh, kissing his lips, his neck and you lean up on your heels. His hands hold onto your hips.  The length of him was almost intimidating, you bite your bottom lip and take him in your hands, gently moving your fist up and down. He lets out a deep groan and his eyes squeeze shut, arching his back. You rub his precum over his tip and he shivers, you move your head towards his cock and glance up at him. He looks at you with half lidded eyes and you lick a long strip from the base all the way to the tip, taking him into your mouth. 

“Oh…oh my, unghhh—”  

A loud, throaty moan escapes him, surprising you both and you both laugh. He covers his face with both his hands shyly, slightly embarrassed by the sound he just made. You kiss his tip, licking down his shaft and he whimpers. He grips the back of your head as you bob up and down, taking him all in, rubbing his balls to get him to squirm. He let out a low growl, a sound so animalistic and sexy you couldn’t believe you were the cause.  He wanted to feel you, he wanted to be inside you and couldn’t wait any longer. He pulls at your hair, lifting your head up, your lips were swollen and wet with spit. 

“Come here.” He says breathlessly. “Now.”

You crawl up to him, his lips catch yours in a passionate kiss. You were trembling now as you lined yourself up with his length. He cups the back of your head, sweetly pecking your lips as his other hand grips at your hips. You keep your face close to his, your lips barely touching as you lower yourself onto his cock. He squeezes your hips, throwing his head back into the pillow and lets out a throaty groan. You whimper as you take him all in, slowly rocking your hips to get used to the size of him as he stretches you out.

“Are you okay?” He whispers to you, lifting his arm up to cup your cheek. 

You nod, pleasure was building in your belly as you grind against him, your clit rubs generously on his pelvis. You look into his eyes, running your hand up his chest, over his tattoos, tracing his lips with your fingers. You insert two fingers into his mouth, which he takes willingly and sucks. You move your hips up and then down, hard. His moan vibrates on your fingers as you rock faster against him; you remove your fingers and begin playing with yourself with that same hand as he watches you in awe. He arches his hips into you, and you cry out, your head falling back, he caresses and pinches your nipples.  You lean forward, using the headboard as support to continue your movement. His tongue traces circles around your nipple, sucking hard and squeezing both with his hands. He moves onto the next one, you moan louder into his ear, and he grabs your ass, burying his cock deeper into you. 

In one swift motion, he flips you on your back. His eyes stare into your soul, and you kiss him. He kisses you back with the same hungriness from earlier, taking your leg and moving it onto his shoulder as he thrusts into you.  An insanely pornographic sound escapes your lungs, and he smiles against your lips. He leans up slightly to stare at your face, you were biting your bottom lip, and your eyes burn into him, and he could feel his heart growing bigger and bigger for you in that moment. You grab his perfect ass with your legs to push him further into you and he arches back; your lips go to his throat, gently nibbling on it and licking all over. Your orgasm was building in your belly, and by the way he was slowing down and getting a little clumsy, he was close too. 

You pull his face towards you by the back of his head. “Fuck me.” You tell him through gritted teeth.

His beautiful brown eyes dilate, and you see the pure lust take over in his stare. He leans back on his heels, pulling himself out of you and you frown, he pulls you towards him hard by your thighs, his fingers for sure going to leave lovely bruises. But you didn’t care.  Before you could make another comment, he slams his cock into you, and you scream out. He holds onto your hips, rolling his against yours at a hard pace, you swear you could see all the fucking colors of the rainbow. 

“Fuuuuck…”  He moans out. “Oh fuck-I’m gonna—”

“Don’t stop, Eddie.”  You whimper, his cock slamming into your g-spot over and over was making you forget your name. 

You move your hands down and find your clit, rubbing vigorously against it as your cunt clenches against his cock. He watches you rub yourself, a smile toys on his lips as he stares in wonder at you, he felt as if he was fucking a goddess.

“Oh god…”

“Cum with me, baby. I want to feel you.”  

He groans loud, and that was enough to send you screaming, and crying out his name as you came all over his cock. You grip the sheets under you, still cumming hard and he slams faster into you, the bed squeaks and the headboard bangs into the wall and he sputters. 

“Oh…my…unnngh.”  

He slams into you once more, you could feel the warmness settle in your cunt as he came inside you, feeling his cock twitching as he slowed his pace and cried out, collapsing onto your chest. He rolls his hips against you and shudders. The two of you lay there in a pile of limbs, heavy breathing, and sweat. He lifts his head up to look at you, smoothing out your still wet hair, and presses his lips to yours. Your tongue goes into his mouth, and he moans softly, cupping the back of your head, deepening the kiss. He slides out of you gently, and pulls away from you, laying on his back. His hand rested on your thigh, and you could feel him dripping from you; you needed a minute. Or several. 

“Well,” he says breathlessly. “I’ve never done that with you before.” 

You weakly slap his chest and laugh loudly; tears prickle your eyes as you feel another laugh roll out until you’re full-blown cackling. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow and you laugh harder. He shakes his head, laughing with you, turning onto his side to rub your tummy gently. Your laugh was one of the things he loved about you because it was so contagious, and that this was the first time today he could see pure happiness on your face. 

“I’m sorry.” You manage to say, your laugh still rolling out of you. “I don’t know why I’m laughing so hard. Oh wait, I do, you’re a fucking idiot and I love you.” 

He laughs, kissing your cheek. “No going back now.”

“No.” You say, catching your breath, bringing your palm up to his cheek. “Never.” 

He kisses your lips, your cheeks, your neck and leans up on his elbows. “My clothes are soaked.”

“I’ll put them in the wash.” You kiss his nose, slowly sitting up in bed, you could already feel the soreness between your legs. “I’m pretty sure my mom folded a bunch of your clothes you left here the other day.” You pause and turn to look at him. 

“Of course she did.” He says with a sweet smile, tracing your spine with the tip of his finger. “Do you want me to go get them?”

You knew he only asked because the washer and dryer were in her little den with her vanity mirror. 

“Uh, no. It’s okay.” You give him a smile. You go into your dresser, pulling out underwear and your oversized Queen tour t-shirt you got in 1987. Your mom had bought the tickets for you and Eddie; Eddie was indeed a total metal head, but he had a soft spot for Queen, probably because you loved them so much. You throw on the clothes and turn when you feel his eyes on you.

“What?” You ask, a blush creeping up on your cheeks as you stare at his naked body.

His right arm, which was covered in a full tattoo sleeve, was bent behind his head as he looks at you. 

“Nothing.” He smiles sweetly. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. Around us.”

You lean over to him to kiss him, he holds your head,, leaving lots of pecks around your cheeks and lips, causing you to giggle. You pull away, turning around to grab his mess of clothes on the floor, throwing his dry boxers to him. He takes this opportunity to smack your ass and you yelp. You narrow your eyes at him, and pull out his chain wallet, snapping it open, pulling out some cash, you could only make out a few ten-and one-dollar bills. 

“I’m taking this.” You tell him, shoving the bills into your underwear. 

“Pretty cheap date, don’t ya think?” He laughs, pulling his boxers over his hips as your face falls into mock shock, you pull out the cash and throw it at his face, causing him to laugh harder.

You shake your head, leaving the room, heading towards your mother’s den. You slow your walking down as you meet the closed door. The grief starts to creep up again, your hand trembles as you reach for the doorknob. You twist the knob and push it open. An aroma of peach, rose and slight Sandalwood hit your nostrils and you have to hold onto the wall for support, blindly finding the light switch. The light is bright, and you squint, your eyes already filling with tears as the scent of your mother was everywhere in this room. Her vanity sat perched against the wall, the wood was a soft amber color. She had rebuilt this vanity after getting it from a garage sale a few years ago. You gently run your hand over the fabric of her sweater that hung behind the chair she always sat at; whether to do her make up, or randomly sketch some drawings in her sketch book. You pull your hand away as if burned, and you quickly go to the washing machine, tossing Eddie’s clothes in as well as some dirty ones that were in the basket.  You see his folded clothes on top of the dryer, your heart hurt with how right you were and how she would never fold his clothes again.  You groan, looking over the clothes, sniffling. You take out his Metallica tour t-shirt, and his black jeans. You exit her room after shutting off the light and quietly shut the door.  Eddie was strumming at your acoustic as you walk back in, smiling at you at you hand him the clothes. He sees the tears in your eyes and immediately puts the guitar back on the stand.

He takes your hand, “What happened?”

You shake your head, trying to smile. “Nothing…it’s nothing. I’m okay. Can we go to bed?” 

He looks you over once with concern and nods, gently kissing the top of your hand. You crawl into bed, leaning over him to turn off the light on your nightstand. You curl up next to him, burying your face in his chest. He wraps his arms around you, pulling the blanket over the both of you. You feel his lips kiss your hair and you sigh. All the sadness, all the grief had fallen away as he held you and you wished you could stay like that forever.

As if the universe was working against you, you woke up screaming. You were covered in sweat and tears pooled from your eyes as a panic attack settled deep in your chest. You sat up, leaning against the headboard, bringing your knees up to your chest as you scream out a sob. Eddie had woken up immediately, feeling you thrash around before you woke up. Dawn was approaching, and he flicks the light on. He kneels in front of you, placing both of his hands on the side of your head.

“Hey, hey, look at me, I’m right here.”

The dream you had replays over and over in your head like a broken record. You let out a painful groan, holding onto your stomach as you to try to speak and to calm your breathing before you hyperventilated. 

“She…she was right there. Right in front me.” You tell him, your voice choking with sobs. “Right there! She was so close to me and I tried to reach for her hand but she kept moving away from me, and I ran to her. I ran so fast, but she just kept going further and further away until I couldn’t see her. And then she was gone. She was gone.”

You cry, hard, and he takes you in his arms, hugging you as you wept. You wail and he tightens his hold on you, gently rocking you as you gripped onto his arms.

“I’m not ready for this.” 

“I know.” His voice trembles, smoothing out your hair. “You don’t have to be ready for something like this.”

“Why did she leave me?” You whimper, your entire body shakes.

“Why was she taken away from us!? Oh god…” 

He kisses your head, your cheek, finds your lips and kisses them softly. 

“Please don’t leave me.” You choke out. “Please.”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. I promise you.”

“Don’t leave me.” You cry, holding onto him for dear life. He rocks you and you cry. You weren’t ready for the coming days, you weren’t ready to keep feeling this sorrow phone call after phone call, hug after hug, tear after tear. You weren’t ready for today. You weren’t ready for tomorrow. You weren’t ready. You weren't ready.

[the-most-humble-blog]

When a horror movie said 'based on a true story,' I took it as a legally binding threat. It wasn’t just a movie anymore—it was a hit list, and I was at the top. It didn’t matter if the "true story" happened in some remote village in 1876 or was basically an urban legend; my brain immediately concluded that the monster had hopped on a plane, figured out where I lived, and was already checking my Wi-Fi for weak spots.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take precautions. Furniture? Moved. Closet doors? Slammed shut with the ferocity of someone trying to close a portal to hell. Flashlights? Batteries checked like I was about to direct air traffic. The creaky floorboard suddenly became the soundtrack of my doom. My dog’s bark? Forget intruders—it was obviously the monster testing the waters. The worst part? My blanket. The universal kid shield. But somehow, in the based-on-a-true-story cinematic universe, a blanket felt like taunting fate. Like, “Here I am! Come get me! Try to scare me to death! I even gift-wrapped myself!”

And why did the movies always end in the most stressful way possible? The monster was never dead-dead. They didn’t just kill it and roll credits—no, no, it had to "disappear," or wink at the camera, or worse, a tagline would flash that said something like “The killer was never found.” Excuse me? So you mean to tell me it’s still out there? Roaming free? With my address bookmarked? WTF?

By the time I was eight, I had built a security system rivaling Fort Knox. Every shadow was suspect, every flickering light a harbinger of doom. Honestly, it was exhausting being both the victim and my own protection detail. My parents? Useless. They acted like it was just a movie, which I found wildly disrespectful to my survival efforts. "Sure, Mom, go ahead and sleep peacefully. Meanwhile, I’m here defending the family with a plastic lightsaber."

And those movies lied to us! The true story was always, “We took a thing that happened and added 90% nonsense to terrify you for fun.” No killer was teleporting across states. No ghost was putting me on their LinkedIn hit list. But at 2 a.m., logic wasn’t invited to the conversation. At 2 a.m., I was convinced that “true story” meant the monster personally wanted me.

Looking back, it’s ridiculous. But also… is it? Because you never see the killer get a restraining order or a therapist. Just saying—if I don’t take precautions, who will?

[kentsjohnson91]

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑ᶜᵇ⁹⁸

in which connor is left to pick up the pieces after losing y/n.

warnings; death (mentions suicide and mental health issues), connor having to grow up quickly, grief

based off of last words of a shooting star by mitski

all of this turbulence wasn't forecasted, apologies from the intercom

and i am relieved that i left my room tidy

they'll think of me fondly when they come for my things

Time does not stop for one person’s death. Nor does it stop for a million deaths. Time is a cold and cruel concept that remains hidden despite standing in the light. People forget that just because something breaks doesn’t mean that the rest of the world is affected by it.

Connor sat in the driver's seat of his 2008 Honda Civic, his eyes focusing on the neighborhood road in front of him. Christmas lights were shining brightly all around him, but the boy's heart and mind didn't reciprocate the brightness surrounding him. Instead, his soul was sad as he looked up from the road, his eyes meeting your childhood home. The same childhood home in which you and Connor first met.

A five year old Connor stood nervously at your doorstep, his light brown hair blowing mindlessly in the wind. His arms were loaded with a tray of cookies that his mom had made. Your family had recently moved to North Vancouver from what the Bedards presumed was the United States, seeing as an American flag was displayed above your garage. As your new next door neighbors, his mom took it upon herself to welcome you to the neighborhood, and there was no better way to do so than a five year old with cookies.

The door swung open and Connor was met with a woman, who he later learned was your mom, and you, his newfound best friend. From then on, you and Connor became inseparable.

The same childhood home in which you and Connor had late night conversations through cup phones.

Funnily enough, Connor soon learned that his bedroom was exactly across the way from yours. What began as small waves to each other when you both realized the other was in their room, quickly turned into both of you cracking your windows open to have full-fledged conversations with each other. As the years went by and you and Connor grew older, you decided that that wasn't enough, and brought it up with Connor that night before going to bed. The next morning, you woke up to a cup phone sitting on your bedroom desk, and a long piece of yarn attached to it. It didn't take long for you to discover that the cup lead to Connor's room. It did, however, take a little while to discover a note that Connor had left for you.

"you left your window open, so i figured there was no better time to do this. i spent all night finishing this - i even drew a dog on your cup because i know you like them so much! - connor".

The same childhood home in which you and Connor realized you loved each other.

Now teenagers, it was evident that there was something going on between you and Connor. However, it seemed as if everyone but the two of you were aware of it. Both his mom and dad and your mom and dad had sworn that the two of you were going to grow up and get married, and his sister always claimed that she would be the maid of honor, but both you and Connor swore that the two of you were only best friends, and that's all that you guys would ever be.

However, that all changed the morning of your 16th birthday. Connor had turned 16 a few months prior, and he spent the days leading up to it driving around town to acquire the decorations needed to decorate. The night before your 16th, you and Connor had planned a sleepover. Little did you know, however, that while you were fast asleep in one of Connor's Regina Pats t-shirts, he had spent another night wide awake for you, just to decorate his kitchen in order to surpise you.

When you woke up the next morning, Connor was nowhere to be found in his sleeping bag on the floor (the boy let you take his bed so you'd be more comfortable, and despite your protests, he insisted). Confused, you got out of bed, and were immediately hit with the soft sound of music and the crackling of bacon. You softly smiled to yourself as you made your way down the stairs, expecting to be met with Mrs. Bedard, but instead, you found Connor hunched over the stovetop, grilling the bacon.

His hair was disheveled and he was wearing his favorite Regina Pats hoodie, gray sweatpants adorning his legs. You stood there for a bit before making your presence known, snaking a hug around Connor's waist as you noticed all of the decorations around you, "Happy birthday, sunshine."

You let out a soft gasp as you took in the sight around you, your eyes admiring all of the work Connor had put in just for you. He smiled as your eyes twinkled in excitement, mentally celebrating to himself as he realized how much you loved everything, "Connor, you shouldn't have... this is amazing, thank you. I don't think anything can make this day better."

His smile grew even bigger, which he didn't know was even possible. As you went around the kitchen to admire the decorations up close, Connor went back to cooking the bacon. The random playlist he had on shuffled through a few songs, and soon landed on 'At Last' by Etta James. You grinned, heading over to Connor.

"Con, I think I have found something that can make this day better."

"And what is that?" "Dance with me."

Connor didn't protest. Instead, he turned around and placed one hand on your shoulder and the other on your waist, and the two of you began to slow dance around the kitchen to the soft voice of Etta James. Despite no words being exchanged between the two of you, both you and Connor could feel the love you had for each other. After all, love understands love - it needs no talk.

The same childhood home in which you eventually took your life.

Connor knew you were struggling. From the moment he had met you, he had the ability to read you like an open book. So when you became quieter shortly after your sweet sixteen, he became concerned. At first, you tried to blame it on stress from school and extracurriculars in an attempt to reassure him, but Connor could see right through you. He knew you were hurting, but what he didn't know was that you were never going to recover from this pain.

Although Connor wasn't home all the time, he would send you encouraging text messages every morning and would talk with you every night on the phone, for hours on end, though your cell phones couldn't compare to the cup phones that still hung between your guys' bedroom windows. He even asked his parents and Madi to keep a closer eye on you when he was gone.

He was in Regina when it happened. His parents had come to see him play against the Everett Silvertips, and were planning on staying for the weekend to catch up with him. His day was going great, and he didn’t think anything could have ruined it. That was until after the game, when he had tried to call you - multiple times - to check in on you and make sure you were doing okay. Each and every time he called, he was met with your voicemail. A pit of concern was growing in his stomach, but he tried to settle it by convincing himself that you had fallen asleep and we’re okay. When he had gotten back to his apartment after the game, however, the worry in his stomach only grew when he saw his parents sitting on his couch, both teary-eyed.

“Connor…” he made eye contact with his mom, who could barely hold herself together. Somehow, he had put the pieces together - it was about you, and it wasn’t good - but he still felt the need to ask about you before jumping to conclusions.

“Y/N’s fine, right? She’s just sleeping, or driving, which is why she’s not answering any of my calls?” Connor asked warily, his voice shaky. His mom only cried harder at her son’s question and his dad sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. Connor hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his eyes glassy, his head shaking in disbelief, “She’s not… she’s not dead, right? She can’t be.”

“She’s gone, Connor,” his dad replied, his heart breaking at the state his son was already in, “Her mom called us a bit ago. She committed suicide.”

“No!” Connor shouted, his mouth curving into an upward smile of pure shock, “You’re lying to me! Y/N’s not dead, she can’t be!” he pulled out his phone again and began to dial her phone number, “If I call her right now she’ll answer me. She was just taking a nap!”

Immediately, Connor’s mom got up to hug him and at that moment, he knew you were gone. His best friend, his love, the one person who knew him more than anyone else in the entire world, was gone. He dropped his phone and let out a blood-curdling scream, falling to his knees as his mom tried to keep up with him. His dad joined his wife and son on the floor as the the three Bedards grieved together, knowing they would never again get to see sweet and beautiful Y/N Y/L/N — sweet and beautiful you.

Your funeral had been the hardest part for Connor. There wasn't much crying during the actual procession, except from him. As your dad, his dad, Kent Johnson, Tanner Hayes, your cousin and him were carrying your casket down the aisle of the church, tears rolled down the young boy's lightly-freckled cheeks like a flowing waterfall.

During your actual burial, however, things were the exact opposite, Connor felt numb, and couldn't process that you were actually gone. However, the others realized that they would never, ever hear your voice again. They would never again get to see your smile, or hear your contagious laugh. Madi and Mrs. Bedard shook in each other's arms, trying their best to comfort one another. Your mom trembled as your dad rubbed her back softly. A group of your cousins all huddled together in a heartbreaking group hug. Connor’s dad really tried his best to hold it together for everybody else, but when he saw the casket being lowered into the ground, he broke. You had been like a daughter to him. He pretty much knew that his son was going to grow up to marry you. Mr. Bedard collapsed to the ground on his knees, his heart breaking more and more each second. But then there was Connor - absolutely no expression on his face whatsoever. He couldn't feel anything.

Here Connor was, sitting in his car a year later. The Blackhawks had given him a break to be with family during this time, specifically after Nick Foligno had seen how broken the kid was over the situation. He could see your mom and dad having dinner through the window, but he knew it wasn’t the same. They had left an empty chair, plate and silverware out on the table for every meal after you had left.

The cup phones were still hanging between his bedroom and yours. Connor didn’t have the heart to take them down - if they remained up, the two of you would still be connected in some way, and although that way wasn’t ideal, it was better than nothing.

The American flag was still up, but by now was joined by a Canadian one as well. Things were different now, but not for the better.

Connor reached over to his passenger seat, in which sat a gift-wrapped box. Your parents had given it to him on Christmas Day last year, explaining that it was the gift that you were going to give him that day. He thanked them kindly, but didn’t have the heart to open it. He needed some more time before he could face the memories of you again.

He was finally ready. Connor wiped off some dust particles from the year old wrapping paper before carefully moving to untie the bow of ribbon on top of the present - it was your signature move. When he managed to unwrap the wrapping paper and open the box, tears came to his eyes immediately.

A handmade blanket was revealed to him. In the very center, the fabric of his old Regina Pats t-shirt - the one you were wearing when you guys realized you loved each other - was revealed, and ‘Bedard - 98’ was written across. Another square of fabric was a piece of your baby blanket, on which your warm scent still lingered. Connor gripped the blanket close as if he was physically holding you in his arms, as if you were physically here with him.

For the first time in a year, Connor allowed himself to grieve. He missed you so much, and desperately wished you were back in his arms, but finally realized that the world goes on. Once again, time does not stop for one person’s death. Nor does it stop for a million deaths. Time is a cold and cruel concept that remains hidden despite standing in the light. People forget that just because something breaks doesn’t mean that the rest of the world is affected by it.

For awhile, Connor thought he could’ve saved you. He thought his love for you was enough to show you the beauty and goodness of the world which can so often be cruel. Connor loved you in many ways, and the fact is that the blue-eyed boy could've loved you in an infinite number of ways, but really, he could've never loved you in a way that was enough to make you stay.

That’s just something Connor Bedard would have to live with for the rest of his life.

an; merry christmas and happy holidays i guess???

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 26

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

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---

The rest of the visit at the Wayne Manor was more relaxed, or at least Jason thought so. He wouldn’t forget Jazz’s tense shoulders while they listened to Danny’s explanation of Jazz’s actual role in the Infinite Realms.

Was she tense because she hated being an executioner? Because she found that dreadful?

He wasn’t sure, and the doubt was capable of consuming him — did she really understand him, what he tried to do for Gotham, or was she projecting her own insecurities in him and wanted him to “reform” like she seemed to be doing with herself? Because it didn’t escape him how she went from such a violence-heavy role to completely focusing on reforming Gotham rogues.

If all Jazz could see in him was a pet project to “fix” in any way, he knew it would completely crush him. After all they’ve been through, there was still doubt that any of this was real. That what they had was real.

No. He had to try. To believe.

He still felt shaken after the rapidfire revelations one after the other — Jazz was the Crown Princess of another dimension, the Spirit of Gotham was Bruce’s mom, Jazz’s actual job was scarily close to his, and the personification of fear wanted to marry his girlfriend. He knew he would be thinking about all of this, and come back to every little detail, that night while he was supposed to sleep.

He just knew.

Especially because when he closed his eyes, he could see Danny’s haunted eyes when he pulled him aside to talk.

He expected a shovel talk, he expected vague threats from a caring brother, or maybe a rundown of what it means to consort a Princess.

He didn’t expect what actually happened.

“My sister… Please keep an eye on her. I wasn’t kidding when I said she takes the bad stuff and deals with it on her own,” he smirked, acknowledging that he knew the couple had been eavesdropping, “but what I didn’t say is how she disregards her own wellbeing.”

“I’ve noticed.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand. Jazz self-destructs, she… It’s almost as if she punishes herself for wanting more. Maybe, I don’t know, maybe I’m reading too much into it; but she is always so quick to accept the worst and plans for it without thinking that things could just… Work out. It doesn’t help that things have been hard for us for so long – self fulfilled prophecy?” He chuckled. “I’m more aware of things than she gives me credit for.”

Jason kept his gaze straight ahead, watching the rest play in the backyard, a tiny green dog — Cujo — running around and imprinting on Damian almost immediately.

“She loves you.”

“I know.”

“She lied to me for you.” Danny looked at him funny. “I’m not saying it's your fault or anything. Just observing. She was ready to face the Justice League over a misunderstanding rather than telling the truth.”

Danny hummed, storing the new piece of information.

“She would make rivers of blood to protect you.”

Danny stayed quiet, so quiet that Jason assumed the conversation was over.

“She already has.” Danny’s voice was small. “One time, she was sent with an entourage as a political representative to an ambivalent community, to negotiate their alliance. Or find out if they would support Vlad. She came back a few weeks later, alone, and covered in blood. She only said that we didn’t need to worry about those people anymore.

Her wounds were fatal, and we don’t know how she not only survived but made the trip back. The funny part? I think that incident marks the beginning of her descent into the executioner role she finally took. It was almost as if— She was changed. I could see it. My worries were confirmed when I got word that the city she had visited had been burned to the ground. No one ever found any remains, of either faction. Just blood and rubble.”

“Darling?”

“Hmm?”

He looked down, finding the teal eyes of his girlfriend. It was the same face, the same eyes, the same worried expression.

A few weeks ago, she was the woman he was so scared to reveal himself to. Now, she was so much more. It felt silly to worry about what she would think about his other life, how she went from “just�� being the girl he was interested in to whatever they were now.

He couldn’t see her in the same way. Not after learning what he knew now.

“Are you okay?” Her cold hand was on his cheek. When did she move? “You’ve been quiet.”

He kicked himself in his mind for worrying her. It’s just… After saying their goodbyes and getting on the road back to their apartment building, he started to let his mind wander and hadn’t come back to the present yet.

They were in front of her door, the fluorescent lights illuminating Jazz’s face looking up at him.

“Sorry.”

She bit her lip. “Don’t say sorry. No blood, no fault.”

“Har har,” he smirked, leaning down for a quick kiss. “Smart-ass.”

She giggled. All thoughts and doubts left him as he let himself bask in the moment.

He leaned in for a kiss, smiling when she got on the tip of her toes to meet him halfway, her arms sneaking around his neck to keep him there.

Her kiss was the same. Her smell was the same. Her touch, and the way his hands fit on her waist, was the same.

She was the same person, he reminded himself. Even if every answer he got only opened more questions, Jazz was still here with him, and she still wanted him.

The door opened behind Jazz, and Jason had to quickly grab the door frame to prevent the pair from falling to the ground.

“Time to sleep.” Danny was there, arms crossed, a small smirk on his face. He enjoyed his sister’s grumble and annoyance. The little shit.

“Yeah, yeah.” She sighed, turning to look at her boyfriend. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

She looked so uncertain and hopeful. Did she think he would run?

“Of course.” He gave her another quick kiss, smiling when she giggled.

He nodded at Danny as they parted. He nodded back, his smirk turning something more dangerous for a second, but back to a normal smile when Jazz passed by as she went inside the apartment.

Jason stayed an extra second, waiting to see what Danny had to say.

“Goodnight, Jason.”

He arched an eyebrow, expecting anything but that. He took it anyway. “Goodnight.”

With that, Danny almost slammed the door shut in his face. Jason scoffed and went back to his own apartment, still reeling from everything that happened.

He only turned on the kitchen light, got some coffee started — if he wasn’t going to sleep, why the hell not — and opened the fridge to see what leftovers he could quickly reheat for dinner.

With a warm cup and some food, he sat down on his shitty couch and turned on the TV to have background noise to think and organize his thoughts. It was some stupid procedural show, mainly focused on criminal psychology, something he knew Jazz would love.

He chuckled, sighed and put the half eaten leftovers on the coffee table.

He wasn’t that hungry anymore.

Why did he feel like this? It didn’t make sense — it wasn’t like it was the first time he was involved with people with superhuman abilities and a complicated past. Back when he was Robin, he had gone with Bruce to the Watchtower more than once and met enough members of the Justice League. And after his resurrection he had been involved with the Al Ghuls, who were irreversibly affected by the Lazarus Pits.

No. This was different.

Jazz was… She was supposed to be a civilian. The one normal thing in his life. He agonized over telling her about his other life, but deep down he wanted to have something that made him feel less like he was adrift in life, drowning, feeling like his only purpose had become vigilantism.

He wasn’t stupid. Jazz’s status as a meta was something he knew early on, and the way she had been hinting at some kind of hero's life was ironic, but he could handle it.

I couldn’t give you normal even if I tried.

She warned him. She told him she wasn’t sure that their relationship should happen at all. She told him she risked a lot to be involved with him, and that it wasn’t in her plans at all to love him.

He’s different. We clicked.

She told Danny that what they had was different, and he believed her.

Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms. Warrior. Executioner.

Jazz had no place playing human in Gotham, making friends, enduring shitty bosses, having a human boyfriend.

What he understood from what the siblings explained, her actual life was a fantasy story like the ones from his childhood books – with Kings and dragons and magic and insane stakes.

A tiny part of him resented her, he discovered.

Jason leaned forward and put his head between his hands, the stupid show on TV forgotten.

Why did she involve him in this? She knew the kind of burden she would put on anybody she dated, at least anybody she was interested enough to involve in her true life. How could she think she could just give him hopes and love him and then… then what? Did she plan on leaving without an explanation when her internship ended? Was she okay with breaking up, making up a shitty excuse to feed him hoping he eventually forgot about her?

She said she planned on telling him, but how much really? How much would she have told him if Bruce didn’t poke things he wasn’t supposed to?

He refused to feel grateful about what the old man did, he still treated Jazz poorly and jeopardized a lot of people’s existence in Gotham; but it was difficult to let go of the thought that if Barbara hadn’t looked, if Bruce hadn’t confronted her like he had been too much of a coward to do… That Jazz would have fed him half truths and lies by omission to protect Danny up until the day they parted ways.

His eyes felt a little damp. He blinked the moisture away and pressed the palm of his hands against his eyes until he saw stars.

No. This is ridiculous.

Jazz was very smart in many ways — she guessed everyone’s secret identities after all — but she could be so dumb about so many things too. He remembered their fight, how her voice changed when she admitted she didn’t know why or how she loved him. He thought about how she could remain oblivious to a guy crushing on her for years. He thought about Danny’s admission that Jazz tended to be too harsh on herself and set unnecessary hard limits.

He could believe that Jazz’s living in Gotham was a little experiment, a game of pretend that she was going to eventually end no matter who was hurt in the process, or…

Or he could believe that she was winging it so hard she contradicted herself all the time. That she was used to putting others above herself so much that she didn’t consider the possibility she didn’t have to end things. That there was no game, no further motives, no plan.

That the Princess of the Ghosts loved him, and she felt as lost as he did.

He breathed in, trying to calm down his racing thoughts.

It was useless to ponder and guess what her motives were, if she had them at all. They said they’d enjoy what they had while they still could, and going by what they learned that day, Danny gave the OK for them to be together — in a very strange and convoluted way, that is. And from what he overheard, Danny was this all powerful entity that made the rules.

A loud thud interrupted his thoughts, followed by his girlfriend’s voice screaming Danny’s name.

He smiled, picking up his food and considering finishing the rest of it. It was probably cold, so he decided not to. Instead, he picked up his coffee and the remote and decided to change channels, looking for something that didn’t require a lot of brainpower and maybe fall asleep to.

It didn’t help that everything either reminded him of Jazz, or thought it was something she’d enjoy.

***

Sunday was uneventful.

He decided to sleep in, pushing away the thought that sleeping alone never felt so cold before. He was being ridiculous. Everything about the situation was ridiculous.

He stayed in bed as long as his hungry stomach allowed him to, going over every conversation, every touch, every look. Trying to organize the new information and memorize every piece of detail, unsure of when exactly he’d have another opportunity to gather so much about the siblings’ secrets.

He allowed himself a few moments to burn the visual of Jazz wearing her armor in his memory. She looked comfortable in it, powerful, and very inhuman. Nobody brought it up at the moment, but she glowed when she wore it. It was subtle under the daylight, and next to the living light bulb that was Danny in his King form she didn’t stand out; but he had been distracted by the way everything about her had a bit of supernatural glow that separated her from the humans in the room.

It was different knowing all he knew and seeing it for himself.

Liminality. He wondered what else he still had to learn about her. What else he had to learn about himself, too. Going by how much information the Fentons gave him and after… After Jazz gave him pure ectoplasm, he was sure to expect some kind of change.

He hoped he found time to talk to Danny about the topic, and maybe coordinate a visit to these yetis they kept talking about.

The situation was ridiculous, but might as well embrace it. He had been The Chosen One for a secret sect of warriors oathbound to rid the world of an ancient evil — he could take whatever The Infinite Realms threw at him.

The rest of the day was relatively quiet, if you take into consideration the noises coming from his neighbor’s apartment — seriously, what were the walls made of? Paper? — and Jazz and Danny’s voices when they left in the afternoon for dinner. Jazz texted him a few times asking how he was and sending a few pictures of stray cats she saw while out with Danny. It was cute.

But he also had messages from his goons that they had some information about the Black Clovers gang. Finally.

He informed them that he would be around the base to discuss what they found. They better have something good, because he really needed to get these guys out of his turf. They threatened Jazz. Well, not her specifically, but they were looking for a redhead woman that helped Red Hood, with the vague description those guys Jazz fought a few months ago gave.

So long had changed since that fateful day. For starters, it was imperative he stopped these guys from going after his girlfriend.

And he couldn’t tell her.

Jazz was dead set on trying to be normal. She came to Gotham deadset (heh) on living a normal civilian life, and she got involved in this mess because of him. She didn't need to worry about something like this, especially since he was going to make sure the Black Clovers never had a chance to find her if he could help it.

He ate a quick dinner and got ready for tonight, geared up and jumped out of the window to the adjacent rooftop — he spared a glance at the place from where he had watched Jazz like a creep for a whole afternoon. What an idiot he had been, suspecting her like that. He shook his head.

He looked down at the street when he heard approaching voices, finding Jazz and Danny walking towards the apartment, probably coming back from their dinner.

Jazz looked happy as she listened to her brother talk, nodding along his story and a small smile curving her lips. This was a side he hadn’t seen yet — how she carried herself differently than when she was alone, how she kept one eye in every dark corner, every shadow. She was Danny’s protector, even if the other probably didn’t need such protection.

Both stopped walking once they reached the entrance of the building, but instead of getting inside, the siblings looked up – looked at him — at the same time with the same eerie eyes reflecting the street lights like a cat’s.

He chuckled, waving a hand at both. Danny rolled his eyes and Jazz waved back with a big smile, her cheeks slightly red. Cute.

With a slight nod, he turned back to continue his way to his base, and did his best to not look back and check she was still looking at him.

***

Jazz held her gaze on the rooftop, waiting to see if he turned back, but he never did.

She sighed.

“You are ridiculous.”

She rolled her eyes at her brother. “Oh, shut up.”

“This is worse to watch than the thing with Johnny.”

“Johnny happened so long ago, don’t be an idiot.” Danny opened his mouth to protest. “Eh, eh, eh. I was sixteen. You can’t judge me.”

“And you judged me for Paulina.”

She lifted her chin. “Deserved it~”

Danny scoffed, but didn’t add anything else.

The walk to the elevator was quiet. Jazz played with her keys, wondering where Jason was going, and if she could wait up and see if she could glimpse the vigilante passing by on his patrol route. Maybe she was being ridiculous, feeling this giddy about her boyfriend.

“Jazz.”

She looked at her brother, humming in question.

He looked back with serious eyes. “We need to talk.” She blinked, not really knowing what warranted this. “You have to tell me what happened with Batman.”

She froze, but tried to play it cool. She made time walking out of the elevator when they got to her floor, and continued towards her apartment without saying anything.

“Jazz. You know you have to.”

“There’s not a lot to say — he found some documents and I tried to fill in the blanks as best as I could.”

Danny grabbed her hand when she pulled out her keys to open the door. “Bullshit.” She wasn’t sure what kind of face she was making, but Danny’s expression softened. “I need to know, Jazz. As your brother and as the King.”

She closed her eyes and nodded.

He let her go and open the door, walking in after her. Neither bothered with the light switch, allowing the soft light of the full moon coming from the curtainless window to be enough for their conversation.

Jazz felt a sensation of déjà vu when she sat down on her couch and Danny pulled a chair to sit across the coffee table. It was another apartment, another situation; but she still had to give explanations about roughly the same things.

When would this nightmare end?

She licked her lips and got ready to talk.

“It started last week. Jason and I went on a date — our first official date —” she smiled when her brother made a face “and it was in the middle of a massive Arkham breakout.”

Danny nodded. “Unsurprising.”

“Yeah. So, he needed to go back to the fight and our date was interrupted. I waited up — no, shut up, let me finish — and he finally showed up. He was half dead and losing it and I really thought he was done for.”

“And you used your vials.”

“I did, and he got better.” She nodded. “But Batman wasn’t that far behind. He found us, and he found out I knew about them, and we… we kind of had a fight.”

“You fought Batman?” Danny was amused.

“No… Not really. I managed to kick him out without an actual fight, but he just,” she pulled her hair back, frustrated, “he couldn’t let things go. Apparently, he and Oracle — yeah, that Oracle —” she nodded “joined forces and researched us. All of it, Danny. I don’t know how the Ancients they managed to get some of that stuff, I’m positive Tucker had tight security.”

Danny’s back straightened. “He does. He was.” He narrowed his eyes. This was a huge breach of security. Both knew that measurements will be taken about this. “Tell me everything.”

She leaned forward, placing her arms on her knees, looking down and avoiding her brother’s eyes.

“Batman — Bruce waited for me, and found me at Arkham, when I would be alone, and ambushed me with two more of their colony accompanying him.”

Danny’s eyes were glowing bright green when she looked up. She swallowed. After such a nice weekend she had to relive all that happened earlier in the week, and she feared his reaction.

“Go on. And spare no detail.”

---

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Jamie didn’t forgive his dad’s abuse; he let go of the control his father has over him: Ted Lasso 3x11

Watched Ted Lasso 3.11 last night, and I really regret going on social media to see peoples’ takes before watching the actual episode. Based on some reactions, I went in scared about how bad they fucked up, and came out bewildered at a general lack of media literacy and bad faith people have in shows they profess to like?? 

Tons of people with more relevant life experience have spoken about the controversial plot line of Jamie “forgiving” his dad, but it truly did not read to me like a story of a victim forgiving an abuser and letting them get away with stuff or even inviting said abuse back in their life. His mom, who had the most significant conversation with him in the episode imo, insists that his dad won’t change and embodies the “fuck him” attitude. 

However, this episode also makes it clear that isn’t working for Jamie! He is constantly affected by the specter of his dad (looking back in the stands over and over, clearly worried about seeing him after a long gap), regardless of his dad actually being there. 

Explicitly, textually, within the show, any forgiveness would be for Jamie, not his dad. But also, nothing in the show indicates that Jamie actually forgives his dad, even after talking to Ted. 

Instead, to me, it reads far more like Jamie letting go of the control his dad has over him, despite not even being present. Before the conversation, the stands are a source of fear and anxiety for him (get Phil Dunster an emmy!!), but not only because the Man City supporters are booing him, but because he connects that to his dad (his mom literally says that his dad will be in the stands booing him, for him, all those Man City fans hating him could camouflage the larger threat of his dad).

After the talk, he taunts the crowd back, essentially letting go of that fear to better heal himself, taking control of a threat that isn’t really a threat at all. He is taking his mother’s advice to let his father out of his life, to stop proving anything to him, to stop setting himself up in opposition of his dad - hence the crucial climax of him making a “selfish”, solo goal, despite that being something his dad would want from him. 

In regards to the text to his dad at the end, it was the most bland text I’ve ever seen. There was no forgiveness or emotion to him hoping his dad would be okay, it’s like a text you sent to an acquaintance from ten years ago because you heard their dog died. Instead, this is also Jame in fact letting go of his anxiety and fear - multiple times, he is anxious *because* the last time he talked to his dad was when his dad showed up unexpectedly in Wembley, and he’s constantly paranoid it will happen again. In my mind, this is Jamie taking control of the situation while being emotionally distant in order to cut that sense of anxiety out and make the first step toward that inevitable meeting again. He is reducing his dad from a terrifying unknown to a situation he starts and can control. 

Because this time Jamie knows he will be able to handle whatever is thrown at him; not because he deserves or accepts abuse but because even if abuse is doled out to him as a result of reaching out, the rest of the episode shows how much love he is surrounded by, how much support. When the announcer says “this must be so meaningful to his family,” it is his mom + stepdad, his coaches, his fans, and his team we see first. His dad is an afterthought (though I think it is completely in character for the “forgive and humanize everyone” show to have his dad also choose to heal - completely separate from Jamie’s own journey or even his knowing.)

And that the direction he has chosen to take is in honor of that love, and for that love of his team and his real family. 

People keep saying he should have cut his dad out entirely, but he is already doing that at the start of the episode, and for this specific person and situation, it isn’t working. It isn’t contributing to his healing process, and it seems kind of one note for everyone to insist that all victims be able to or willing to cut people out of their life. Peoples’ relationships to their abusers is not black and white, which the show has already demonstrated with the fact that Rebecca and Rupert can have good times together while she still has strict boundaries and knows he was and is abusive. 

I thought Jamie’s story was a well done, nuanced take that didn’t give an inch to his father’s previous treatment of him, from Jamie or the people around him. I believe even Ted offers the path of forgiveness because he recognizes Jamie is in a place for it - an emotional place where he has moved beyond anger and spite, and a physical place where his dad doesn’t present physical danger to him. The episode was so sincere in showing how badly his dad’s abuse has hurt and damaged Jamie, and how forgiveness, for him, means choosing to let that relationship stay in the past and move on.  

Respect to everyone’s opinions though!!! I think it’s totally okay to be critical of the show, especially when some story lines are so important and sensitive. I just truly didn’t even see the biggest issue most people have with the plot line, which is a sincere forgiveness of abuse i.e. that the abuse was okay. I definitely also think him blocking his dad would be another way to get control over his anxieties, but not one I think meshes with the tone of the show.  

Anyway, sorry for the rant, but I loved the episode—though I do think next week will rip my heart out. 

[spaghettiosonaboat]

Doth hath returned with MORE ROTB HEADCANNONS (+Bumblebee movie headcannons)

Once Charlie left Cali to live in New York, she moved into the apartment below Noah's

Kris HAS beaten Otis in a fight

Noah acts gay whenever he's around ANY girl so that people will leave him alone

When Noah and Charlie met outside work, they immediately bonded over mechanics and engineering. This conversation lasted hours and the autobots were amazed at how excited Noah and Charlie got and how any human could talk that long

Reek does Sunday cleaning

Noah and Elena took Charlie to try authetic Puerto Rican food and authentic Soul food. Charlie now hates casseroles and prefers Mac and Cheese baked

When Charlie's mom and Breanna met for the first time, Breanna got mad at Charlies mom for trying to forget about the death of Charlies dad.

Charlies mom and Breanna compare their children constantly, and Charlies mom loses (Noah and Kris have a bigger age gap and they are closer than Charlie and Otis, Kris also knows how to ACTUALLY defend himself and doesnt snitch)

Noah prefers sleeping in high places, or places he shouldnt (LIKE A CAT)

If Noah and Charlie are at work and Elena is on base, Bumblebee and Mirage start to bug her and pick her up and treat her how they would treat Noah and Charlie

When Airrazor came back to life, Noah immediately came back to Peru with a toolbox and helped repair her

Everyone forgets Noah is Ex-military until he can perfectly aim and fire a gun

Noah and Elena see eachother as siblings (I cannot explain my dislike for Noah x Elena even though the actors have hinted at it I hate it so much)

When Optimus met Breanna and Charlie's mom, they had very different reactions (Breanna was actin like June Darby iykyk and Charlies mom hated him)

(I JUST FOUND OUT CHARLIE'S MOM'S NAME IS SALLY)

When Otis first met Noah, he tried to intimidate him and fight him to seem like the bigger man. Noah quickly shut it down when he showed Otis his dog tags

End of part 2

[angelsanarchy]

Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N Series CH 05 -> CH 06

"Didn't you say you had already befriended your neighbors daughter?" "I'd hardly call us friends. She doesn't know I'm crazy yet."

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr @thatsthewrongwallcraig @icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06 @shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl

"How is your sleep? Is it leveling out or are you still experiencing fatigue?" Jack stretched out in front of the computer screen and yawned.

"It's still weird. Some days I'm too exhausted to function. Other days I work my ass off to clear out the house but when I finally lay down, I just can't shut my mind off." Jack explained.

"What goes through your mind when you find yourself unable to sleep?" Jack rolled his eyes.

"Everything...nothing at all...I think about what I might do the next day or working on the book but then I'm too exhausted to even sit in the chair." Jack was growing annoyed with how his meds made him like a zombie. His brain was far too developed to not be able to use it during the day time.

"How about your appetite? Are you eating regularly?" Jack hated having to explain that he was miserable because his body required these meds to stay sane.

"Not as often as I should. Most of that is because I haven't done the grocery shopping yet. I have to put in an order." Jack listened to the hum come from the doctor.

"Have you thought about maybe going to the grocery store? Getting out among the people just to explore." Jack laughed.

"Yeah I'm not sure I have the energy for that. Maybe if I go late at night but I don't want to mingle just yet." Jack couldn't imagine having to walk through the grocery store having people stare at him or offer condolences that are empty and way too late. He wouldn't mind running into Y/n but that's a different story.

"Didn't you say you had already befriended your neighbors daughter?" Dr. Carty questioned making notes.

"I'd hardly call us friends. She doesn't know I'm crazy yet." Jack explained with a self deprecating laugh.

"You aren't crazy Jack. People live completely normal lives with mental illness. It's like any other illness and you are taking the steps towards a bit more normalcy." Dr. Carty had been with Jack since he checked into the facility. He felt like Jack absolutely needed to be hospitalized for the time he was in order to not only get to the root of his trauma but to allow his brain time to come to terms with it. He recognized all the progress he's made and wanted him to feel proud of that.

"Well how does it feel to interact with someone your own age who isn't a doctor?" Jack shrugged.

"She's fine. I mean we have a really cohesive sense of humor. I think if we did hang out, it wouldn't be awful but I'm pretty sure she's a nurse or something. She wears scrubs whenever she's not in regular clothes and when she's in regular clothes she's usually care-giving for her mom." Dr. Carty laughed making Jack tilt his head.

"You like her." He said confidently.

"What? No! We've had two conversations. That's hardly enough time to develop a liking to anyone." Jack defended.

"Haven't you ever heard of love at first sight?" Now Jack knew the doc was fucking with him.

"Yeah, thankfully I live in the real world. Plus everyone knows it's more like lust at first sight. No one can fall in love just seeing someone. That's based entirely on physical attraction." Jack was more of a pessimist when it came to love and attraction. Plenty of people could be attractive but love is few and far between. Jack can count on one hand how many people he's genuinely loved in his entire life.

"Well is she attractive?" Dr. Carty pressed.

"She's conventionally attractive, yes. I mean she hasn't cured my lack of sex drive but again, we've only spoken twice. I don't think I could fuck even if I wanted to." Jack had known the Doc for long enough that his random bouts of vulgarity didn't make him flinch.

"So you have decent conversation with a pretty woman who can match your intellect and has a dog you enjoy spending time with...She doesn't sound like an awful friend to make. Maybe you should work on that." Jack pushed away from the computer and ran his hands down his face.

"Why? I don't want to ruin anyone else's life. She's clearly a much better person than I am and she's already agreed to let me take the dog for walks on occasion so why risk ruining that with her getting to know me?" Jack genuinely feared letting anyone close at this point. Shanda had been with him since day one and the only person who has gotten a pass is the Doc and that wasn't something Jack asked for but has gotten used to.

"She's not Cleo, Jack." The mention of Cleo knocked the wind out of his chest.

"I know that." Jack whispered timidly before standing from his chair to move to the window.

"Just because you never received closure from her doesn't mean you can't move forward. You have done your part in taking accountability. We knew going into that you might not received the absolution of forgiveness." Dr. Carty himself had reached out to Cleo and was told she didn't care if Jack had dropped dead, she refused to talk to him after having their child cremated alone. Jack had sent a twenty page letter without any sort of response and when he sent a follow up, it was returned to sender.

The few times he dared to check social media, she had erased him from her entire existence. She had a memorial post for the baby but she didn't use his last name. When he accidentally liked one of her posts, he was met with a block on all outlets. Shanda had assured him that she had moved on and was doing better but he held onto that guilt for abandoning her after such a sudden miscarriage.

"What are you thinking Jack?" Doc's voice broke through his thoughts as he stood at the window. He could see Y/n down in her mother's garden watering the flowers and talking to her mom who was sitting in a wheelchair on the porch with Ace in her lap. He didn't need to know Y/n well to see she was a good person.

"The best thing she could do is to stay away from me. I'm just...I don't deserve that again. I wasted it the first time and ruined someone's life. What would I even do if I allowed myself to find that with someone else after Cleo? How do I explain to someone what I did to someone I loved enough to want to marry and start a family with?" Jack's ranting started to make his chest hurt.

"Jack, I want you to close your eyes and take a deep breath." Jack became annoyed but did as he was told counting in his head as he took a few deep breaths.

"You need to remember that we are not our mistakes. We all have flaws and blemishes but it's how we right our wrongs that define us. You are not a bad person." Jack opened his eyes feeling a slight burn from squeezing them so tightly. Jack let out a breath before digging in his pocket for a lighter, picking up a cigarette and opening the window abruptly. The daylight made it hard for his eyes to adjust at first but he didn't realize the sound of the window would draw any attention towards him. He was met with Y/n's gaze as he took a deep drag of his cigarette.

"You have to forgive yourself Jack. If you don't let go of that weight, it will drown you." Jack kept his eyes on Y/n as she smiled at him and waved. Jack returned a weak smile, biting his lip.

"I want to...I really do but I just don't think I can." Jack admitted out loud glancing over at the screen to see Dr. Carty was frowning. He hated ending his sessions on a such a negative feeling but he knew he was out of time today. He knew that Doc didn't want to leave him alone with these thoughts so he gave him self work to do over the weekend so it would keep him occupied. Self work always made him roll his eyes because he could knock assignments out easily but whenever he sat down to work on his writing, his mind would be blank. All he wanted to do was figure out how to feel normal again.

[delicatefury]

So on Saturday my younger sister and my mom came over to help me deep clean my carpets (Major the Disaster Dog had lived up to his name and ate a deer carcass Thanksgiving weekend. Yes, he went to the vet. Yes, he’s fine. He was diagnosed with “Garbage Gut” and my carpets needed a lot of help).

Anyway, as usual conversation turned to how it’s a really big house for one person.Which lead to complaints about escrow increases and shitty less-than-cost-of-living raises, which lead to my conviction my senior attorney is going to quit come spring and how I don’t want to stay at the firm if she leaves.

So Mom brings up the clerkship position I had interviewed for before I got my current job. The judge had loved me, but I was barely beat out for the position by someone with more experience running an office. The judge said he’d recommend me for any position that seemed to suit me going forward.

I told Mom I was keeping an eye on the state’s website for similar positions, but I hadn’t decided if I was willing to move an hour or more away, especially with the dogs and cats. She and my sister both encouraged me, promising to help me make it work and that I should go for my dream job.

So I agreed. I decided to commit myself to finding the job I really want, especially seeing as I’m in a position to be picky. I started researching rental rates in the towns, I mentally blocked off time to update my resume and cover letter, and I seriously committed myself to a new job search.

Then today at work, I get an email at my personal address titled “Job opening for Justice ****** * *****.” I idly click it, vaguely curious, thinking it’s an auto-mailer from one of the job sites I never unsubscribed from.

It’s not.

That previous judge I interviewed with over a year ago? He remembered me. He and his staff recommended me. This email is a direct solicitation from this other judge’s senior clerk based on that recommendation. She wants me to send in my resume for a clerkship position! I was recommended for an appellate Clerkship!

I’m gonna fix up my resume tonight!

[1-800-camelliahotline]

Day 1 of @olba-week-event : Merfolk!!!

Day one, and im already fighting for my life, so you guys get a cute sketch based on a very cute moment !! Instead of a dog, I decided to try and draw a baby fox! Coincidentally, I also had a cute little story in mind, but it isn't written out like a fanfic since I didn't feel like doing that </3

So this is the story of a little fox and a mermaid meeting by chance on a summer night.

The little fox had been wandering away from the den in a need for rebellion and independence despite still being a pup.

When night fell and she became hungry, she remembered how the local bear family would hunt in the nearby river for fish and figured it shouldn't be that hard to do the same.

Though what she found by the nearby river was way more interesting than a possible dinner.

Like the curious little pup she was, she bounded forward tail wagging. She had never seen something like THAT before!

It reminded her of those stories her sister Selkie used to tell her about how humans had human fish drawn in the sky, and while she had never seen the drawing herself she had seen humans before and fishes and they looked like a clash of both!

And so she said. "Who are you? Did you fall out of the sky?!"

Right after she said that, the human fish burst into tears and frantically she tried comfort them but nothing seemed to reach them and so she ran off to grab some nearby flowers as they seemed to always make her sister Selkie feel better when she was sad.

She ran back with the flowers kn her mouth and stumbled around, trying to make sure not to drop them getting the attention of the human fish who looked at her curiously as she placed them in front of them.

She waited patiently, hoping the human fish would cry, even nudging the flowers closer to the body of water, and she let out a breath of relief when they did.

Though water's still falling from their face, they were definitely calmer than they were just a few minutes ago and that had to mean something! They took in a deep breath before repeating what they said while wiping away their tears. "I'm Cove and I'm lost... I ran away from home because I wanted to live with my mom but I got swept up! an-and!-" they erupted into sobs that looked even worst than when she found them. Immediately she bounced closer to him stepping into the water and quickly said. "I'm Rena! Don't worry! We'll get you to your mom's by sunrise I promise!" This statement was the start of their adventure that lasted them quite a few hours stopping to eat once in a while and asking directions from the bear family that lived nearby and birds. Sometimes they were led astray and other times they were on the right path but Rena never gave up! This had to be the most fun she's had in a long time! Everything was so boring at home and of course it didn't help that her mothers were so boring. On their adventure Rena never stopped talking about anything and everything while Cove quietly listened sometimes adding to the conversation. Unfortunately their adventure didn't last long as Rena's mothers Pamela and Noelani found her and immediately snagged her by the scruff before she could run off. Both vixens gave her a good scolding and made her promise she would never do it again but deep down they knew she didn't really mean it. Then they made her explain why she was gone for so long with expressions that basically told her "if you lie you really won't hear the end of it". With great reluctance she said the truth which resulted in another wave of scolding but at the end of it they decided to help Cove as well since they knew the way. And as promised they reached the sea by sunrise and there they found another human fish with brown hair and with one sided tearful reunion they go on their separate ways with a promise to meet again. The end....

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S05E06 - Den of Snakes - Part B

My comment about hobbits stands. I mean... the door???

We get some backstory for Jesse.

Yeah, I don't think anyone else other than Jesse cares about this.

No, they all stuck him with the bill! Cheapskates.

"Animal control cleared the floor." How can you clear just one floor when there's a snake roaming free?

Oh, poor Sarah. I'm not really afraid of snakes (I was also born on the year of the snake so this might help lol) but if you have to hand off a live thing to me, you should give me a warning. And I think it's the proper thing to do.

I saw that, unlike Sarah, Mayko Nguyen was all too happy to handle that snake in a BTS photo lol

lol are you crazy? Of course she doesn't want to be anywhere near a snake.

Unfortunately for Sarah, the snake is elsewhere. When I say that you can't just clear one floor...

"We need someone to leave this room and find the snake handler. I volunteer!"

Great. now we can't see Kobe, Charlie.

Well, exposure therapy seems to be what Sarah had wanted anyway.

The snake's carrying case is a big Tupperware?

"They're trying to sewer you" is an expression? I've never heard of it.

Dog show referencing popular quote from another dog show. Fair.

How did you get yourself in that situation?

*stops while chasing the bad guy* "Mom, what the hell???"

Well, Rex is occupied, so it's time for a Charlie takedown.

She's ready.

*actually turned on* (based on his previous conversation)

Well, if you ever get tired of forensics, you got another job lined up.

Yeah, keep teasing her, you might wake up with one someday.

Nice.

Jesse has no sense of self-preservation at all.

lol I'm sure that this is what matters when you're online dating. Come on, not even for Joe, give me a break.

Closing with the shameless eye-fucking while their friends are right there.

This episode had a lot of comedic moments which carried it. Sarah overcame her fear, which I don't think one can do so that fast but, okay. We're not going to spend several episodes on this, I get it. Joe started online dating after Jesse pretty much forced him into it (making an online profile for someone else should be a crime, by the way). Backstory for Jesse finally settled. Or, kinda.

Are dogs afraid of snakes?

[rigelmejo]

Anyone language learning: are there any specific skills among listening, reading, speaking, and writing, that you find degrade less over time? As in, even when you take months or years off of studying, that particular skill remains fairly strong and "comes back" to you within a few days/weeks of doing it again.

For me, reading skill is hands down what seems to come back fairly well even when I take months off of studying or reading in the language. Even when I took over a year off from French, and read almost nothing, the ability to read the kinds of books I was able to read prior to the break, came back within a few hours of picking up a French book again. I take a break from reading Chinese for a few months, every so often, since I'm focusing harder on my Japanese study. And each time I come back to reading Chinese, the ability to read the kinds of novels I was reading prior to the break, comes back within a few hours.

In comparison, my listening skills are so all over the place with Chinese that they seem to degrade super quick - a week without listening to anything and I start to have difficultly listening to audiobooks again, but then a baseline-level of comprehension comes back after I start listening to audiobooks again for a few days. The more I listen to audiobooks, as in daily for a few weeks, the more the comprehension goes back up until it appears to be the listening skill level I had prior to the break, then even higher comprehension compared to the last time I was practicing listening.

My French listening skills are not strong in comparison, but they're around mid to upper beginner (in how many words I recognize when listening), and pretty much always restart there when I take a break from French listening then come back. Then if I keep listening to French for several more days after that return to mid-beginner baseline, I find I can comprehend stuff made for B1 level (like Comprehensible Input French youtube channel's B1 videos) which is closer to my reading level (my reading is maybe around B2 - I can read whatever without looking up words, but niche subjects may have more unknown words for me).

My speaking and writing skills are non existent lol. So they start from like a ~500 active vocabulary base again, every time I take a break then speak again and get back to the level I was before. What will happen is I'll need to speak Chinese again, remember 5 words and then only non-Chinese words will come to mind when I think of anything I want to say (like French or Japanese words), then try to speak more for a few weeks and ~300-500+ words will return to my active vocabulary (stuff like baba mama nuer erzi haizi yi ge beizi shui... when before I was only able to recall stuff like obasan otosan shoujo shounen garcon l'eau mizu), and then I can say simple stuff again like "I have 2 dogs, a sister, my sister's X year's old and has 3 kids, my dad plays guitar, my mom makes paintings, I live X, I like X. I'm okay, you? What does X mean? I hate when it's cold. It's too cold." But the things I can say is still nowhere close to all the things I can read. Eventually around 500 or more words come back to my active vocabulary, and I stop recalling French or Japanese when I'm trying to speak Chinese, after a month or so. And then at that point, I can have small talk conversations but still not anything more in depth (although being able to ask "that means what?" and "can we talk about X" help me start pushing the conversations a little more in depth, if I'm practicing with someone, since I can sometimes recall a much more specific word about a topic I'm interested in, even though the passive vocabulary is way bigger and much of it's not in my ability to actively recall when talking).