#i hadn't figured out how to person in middle school and i got through an embarassing amount of things

[madamscream]

Thank you for the tag again! <3 I'll go with the five characters I've spent Way Too Much Of My Life Thinking About.

Blorbo Poll

Rules: make a poll with five of your all-time favourite characters and then tag five people to do the same. See which character is everyone's favourite.

Tagged by @powersuitup. Probably very predictable picks for anyone who knows me but whatevs.

NP tagging @tweetthang96, @coolnerdyrn, @kayliemalinza, @raaorqtpbpdy, and @thephilosophersapprentice.

[sungbeam]

𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞

nonidol!eric sohn x gn!reader

you can't figure out why eric's been acting different, but maybe you had nothing to worry about in the first place.

8.2k words, bffs2l, college au, reader is incredibly oblivious, swearing, pining, flirting, kissing, mentions of organic chemistry (yuck), eric sohn, fluff, one really bad that's what he said joke (sorry it was chenle), mentions of alcohol

a/n: to @mosviqu !! (requests are closed) hope you like this one, beloved :')) thanks for waiting

A midnight pool party wasn't exactly what you had in mind when you told your friends that you had just gotten off of work. You'd thought they were just having a game night at another friend's house, but it turned out, they decided to utilize said friend's massive backyard space, including his heated pool lined with LED lights at the bottom.

"Who the hell has LED lights at the bottom of their pool?" You voiced aloud in the car.

Ningning's voice wrapped around you from the full volume of your phone's speaker, "My friend from middle school and the one who got us into Yangyang's party the other night—Zhong Chenle. You remember him, right? We went to high school with him, too."

You definitely remembered him. How could you not? He had the most subtly rich personality you'd ever come across. You once thought he was wearing a regular, white Hanes T-shirt from the store (the ones that came in a six pack from Costco), but it turned out that it was a two hundred dollar Balenciaga top.

It was literally just a white shirt.

"Yeah, so we're just here with him and some of his friends," Ningning continued on. You could hear the sounds of merriment in the background, including music and bodies crashing into the pool.

You pulled up to your apartment complex, and it took a second for you to gather your belongings and scramble out of the car. You squeezed your phone between your ear and shoulder as you bumped the car door closed with your hip. "Who's there again? I know you and Winter, but specifically…"

"Uhhh—besides Chenle, there's Renjun, Yangyang, Sungchan, and Eric."

As you let yourself into the apartment, you paused. “Wait, Eric's back?”

There was a commotion on the other side and for a moment, you didn't hear what Ningning said. Then she returned to the speaker with a giggle in her voice, “Yn! We're playing Monopoly soon, but I'm only playing if you're coming over—oh shit, did you say something just now?”

You chuckled, dumping your bag on the kitchen counter and just barely stopping yourself from slumping over like your work bag. “I just asked if Eric was back. I thought you just said he was there with you all.”

“Oh yeah! He said he got back from LA a few hours ago. I don't know how he's not severely jetlagged, but you know what? He brought booze.”

“Sounds like Eric,” you mused. You wondered why he hadn't told you he was back in town. You thought he wouldn't be taking off until tomorrow morning, so that was when you were expecting him.

“—so?”

“Hm?”

“You coming over?”

“Yeah, yeah give me a few.”

One cup of crappy coffee and a change of clothes later, you arrived in front of Chenle's house just a fifteen minute drive from your complex. It was gated and tucked away, which made sense as to why they were able to make so much noise. You could hear the music out from the driveway.

Ningning emerged from the shadows of the side entrance to the house. Her eyes lit up at the sight of you. "Ahh, Yn! I'm so glad you're finally here," she squealed and skipped over to you in her flip-flops, wrapping her arms around you in a big hug. Your friend was dressed in a pretty, bandeau bikini top and bottom, her inky black hair falling down her shoulders like the flow of a waterfall.

You laughed as she pulled away. "Glad I could make it. Are we just going through the side gate or something?"

She nodded and guided you through the foliage. "Yeah. How was work?"

You figured that after your long shift, you probably wouldn't have much energy to actually go swimming. You'd changed into a bathing suit anyway and threw a T-shirt and shorts over it in case, but had arrived with little more than your wallet, keys, and lip gloss.

You gave her a shrug in reply. "Eh. It's work," you said, your voice barely loud enough to hear over the sound of water splashing and high-pitched shrieks. "It was quiet, at least."

"That's good," she nodded with a soft smile thrown over her shoulder. "Thank god you're finally here. Chenle decided he didn't wanna get his limited edition Jade Rabbit Monopoly board wet—” She gave an indulgent eye roll, “—but his game, his decision, I guess.”

You chimed in your agreement just as you and Ningning emerged on the side of the backyard that hosted your friends and their midnight pool party. From your vantage, you could count the heads present, including one Yangyang making a splash into the pool and getting water all over Renjun.

“Yn!” Winter raised a hand from where she sat cross-legged on a lounge chair.

“Yo, what's up, Yn?” Sungchan hollered from the side of the pool where the speaker was. He was fiddling around with whoever's phone was connected to the aux cord.

You grinned, greeting everyone with a big wave. “Hey, guys. Have you been out here for long?”

“Yangyang, I swear to—” Renjun's swear cut through the music to the symphony of Yangyang's screeching of absolute delight. The former brushed his wet hair back, rubbing the pool water out of his eyes. It wasn't until afterward that he greeted you back as you neared where he had been dragged into the pool by his friend. “Hi, Yn. Did you just get here?”

“I did! Where's—”

The back door to the house slid open and Chenle emerged dragging out a massive cooler of what you assumed to be drinks. Carrying the back end was Eric in a pair of dampened board shorts with his wet bangs hanging in his eyes.

“Eric Sohn! You're not supposed to be here until tomorrow morning, you poser!” You shouted in his direction.

Chenle and Eric's heads both whipped over toward where you and Ningning were. Chenle said something to Eric with a wide-ass monkey grin, then proceeded to drag the cooler the rest of the way without Eric's help.

Eric cupped the back of his neck sheepishly as he approached you. He must have recently gotten out of the pool, because there was still water dripping down the lines of his chest and stomach. “In my defense, the airline offered me money if I took an earlier flight,” he said with a laugh.

“As your certified best friend,” you mused, “I'm offended I wasn't the first to know about this update.”

“Okay, best friend, let me hug you to make up for it.”

Your eyes widened, “Eric, you're wet—”

“That's what he said!” Chenle howled with laughter at his own joke, and Ningning groaned in anguish.

“Okay and?” Before you could protest any more, he trapped you in his arms, pressing his dampened skin against your perfectly dry outer garments. For good measure, he nuzzled his wet hair against the side of your face, too.

“You're like—like a dog,” you laughed, playfully pushing him away.

Eric beamed and placed his hands on his hips. “Golden retriever to your black cat. Now, do I have to dump you in that pool myself or are you going to like swimming tonight?”

Your face pressed into a deadpanning line, which drew an even brighter sound from him. You couldn't help but smile; it was nice to have him back. “You're so annoying sometimes. I'm sitting on the edge of the pool only, and you can suck it.”

As you began making your way over to the edge of the pool, Eric trailed after you with his head shaking and a laugh lingering on his tongue. “Missed you, Yn.”

It was a good thing you were facing away from him right then. A smile split your face like a slice of watermelon. “Missed you, too, Sohn.”

You didn't see your friends again until the following Friday evening. It wasn't late enough to call it “night” nor early enough to call it “afternoon.” It was a timestamp somewhere in the middle when the sun had yet to decide if it would hide behind the buildings or peer through the alleyways. It was also when the Korean BBQ place in the university district was relatively bare, and so you and your friends could get away with scoring the big table in the back on the raised platform.

“I feel like a king,” Chenle said with a smile on his face as he breathed in the smell of beef on the grill.

Sungchan flipped over one of the pieces of chicken with his tongs. “Wait, so Yn, they're for real making you work the Friday night closing shift?”

All eyes turned toward your end of the table where you sat with Eric on your right, and Ningning and Winter across from you.

Your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked, your dominant hand pausing your chopstick movements. “Oh, uh, yeah… I mean,” you added with a shrug, “it's not so bad most of the time. I think I would rather have me working than one of the kids.” The store you worked at was relatively understaffed, and your manager oftentimes hired high schoolers from the nearby district to fill in the spaces. There were rare occasions where rowdy customers came in during the latter hours of the night, and you would rather your younger colleagues didn't have to worry about that. (Even if you yourself also worried about rowdy customers.)

“Do you at least get a closing shift bonus?” Winter asked, her cheek stuffed with her last bite. “When I worked part-time at the corner store last year, they at least incentivized closing.”

“Usually when I work alone, yeah,” you said.

Eric's left arm came to rest over the back of your chair as he leaned forward to transfer a slab of short rib to your bowl. “Are you working alone tonight?” He asked, reaching past you to grab a piece of cucumber from one of the metal bowls of side dishes.

You placed the cucumbers between the two of you temporarily so he could have easier access. “I think so,” you said. “Unless my manager recruited someone else, but yeah, I think it'll probably just be me.”

The rest of the table turned to their individual conversations, especially as one of the waiters brought over an additional platter of meats to grill.

Eric murmured to you, “What if I just happened to show up at your work tonight?”

You turned your body slightly to face him, mutual smiles curling onto both of your mouths. “What, need a new first aid kit or something?”

“And a little dose of Yn Ln,” he said before popping a slice of fish cake into his mouth. He was still leaning in close to you, the twinkle in his eyes like a secret only you two knew. You were trying to not let the skin peeking out of his tank top throw you off balance; it was definitely just the heat and steam that made it glisten.

Your eyebrows shot up at his remark. “You're getting plenty of me now.”

“I need to make up for when I was away,” he replied as easy as it was for him to drink water. “I told you, I missed you.”

It was the fire from the grill, the heat of the room, the smell of the food. It was not Eric Sohn making your skin hot or your heart trip—at least, that was what you told yourself. He was attractive, yes, and he was one of your best friends. He was flirty, double yes, but he was still just a friend. (Right?) “Did you breathe too much LA air?” You joked half-heartedly. “You're acting… different.”

He shoved his bite into his cheek and gave you a shrug. “I think I'm acting exactly how I should be,” he said with a quirk of his eyebrows, then tuning into whatever topic Renjun had brought up—something about a party at Han Jisung's house.

Your head tilted to the side in dumbfoundment, but you returned to the rest of the group even if your brain was rewinding that conversation over and over again in your head. What did he mean that he was acting exactly how he should be?

For a moment, you turned back to look at him. His head was so close to yours, his body scooted forward on his chair to close that distance between his legs and yours. You couldn't read him—could only see the mirth in his eyes from Chenle and Renjun going back and forth in Chinese, as if he could understand. You weren't sure what you were looking for.

He glanced over at you then to meet your eyes. It was a split second, but that was enough to alter your brain chemistry, that you were sure his eyes flickered down to your lips. Then his eyes were away from you, having never dared a look at all.

It was about three hours later that you found yourself stationed behind the front counter at the store you worked at. After six, usually the crowd dwindled down when everyone was out having dinner or curled up at home for the night.

That left you with a few options to occupy the time. With the aisles less than crowded, you could hook your phone up to the overhead speaker and bop your head while stocking up the aisles. While Wednesdays were the main inventory days, some of that work spilled into Thursdays and Fridays depending on how much was delivered and who was on the schedule.

You were sorting through the candy aisle checking for expired dates when you heard the jingle of the bell above the front door. “Hi, welcome in!” You hollered from over the aisle, then broke into a smile at the sight of a familiar Los Angeles Angels baseball cap.

Eric tracked your voice and joined you in the aisle you were in, his tank top from earlier swapped out for a dark colored T-shirt under a corduroy jacket. He must have not wanted to come in clothes that reeked of food. “Hey you,” he said, walking over to ruffle your hair.

“Aye,” you chided half-heartedly and reached up to smooth out the hair on top of your head. “I didn't think you were being serious about stopping by,” you mused. You squeezed your hand to reach for the bars of chocolate at the far back. When you examined them and determined that they had reached the shelf expiration date, you dumped them into the shopping basket at your feet to be logged later.

“Of course I was being serious,” he huffed while perusing the bags of gummy candies hanging in the section next to you.

“Those are pretty good.” You pointed out a brand of lesser known gummies shaped like whale sharks. They had adorable, little smiles, but when they got damaged or melted… it was less adorable and less smile-looking. But they were nice and snackable, nonetheless.

He hummed in consideration and plucked a bag off the hanger. “How many of these brands have you tried?”

“Like… five or six,” you said. “I just kind of mark it as a store expense, and then me and the other person on shift share it.”

He chuckled, a smile flitting over his lips after examining the back of the bag. “Wanna share these with me?”

“Sure, man.”

That was how you found yourself at the front counter across from Eric, a bag of whale shark gummies split open between you. You had the store's to-do list binder open and were checking off the items you'd completed, all the while popping a poor whale shark into your mouth. Eric had found interest in one of the celebrity magazines displayed on the rack by the door.

It had so far been a slow night with very few customers coming in to grab a last minute case of beer or condoms. All the usual shit. However, time flew past a lot faster with Eric keeping you company. Even though the conversation you'd had with him at dinner earlier lingered in the back of your mind, it was quickly forgotten as he filled your time talking about LA, plans for the summer, and whatever you were up to while he was gone.

As midnight fast approached, the gummy sharks were finished and you whipped out the broom to begin cleaning up.

Eric idly scrolled through your phone to choose a song, skipping one after the other. “Can I help clean up or anything?” He asked after settling on a Dominic Fike song.

“Just sit still and look pretty,” you teased as you swept some dust and debris into a dustpan.

He smiled to himself. “That should be your job.”

There went your heart again, but thank god you were turned away from him. “Unfortunately, I don't get paid for that.”

“How much do you want?”

You turned your head over your shoulder to look at him, and he sent you a cheeky grin. You laughed loud at the ridiculousness, then returned to sweeping the aisle you were in. “You’re so stupid,” you said playfully. You didn't mean it… sort of. He was stupidly smooth, stupidly pretty, stupidly—

Eric grabbed the dustpan to trail after you. “Damn, I call you pretty and you call me stupid?”

“What if stupid is a compliment?”

“When is it ever a compliment?”

Despite the banter, the two of you were both beaming at each other in the lowlight. In no time, you had the entire store swept clean (for the most part), and you went to tuck the broom and dustpan into the back room. The clock struck just about midnight, too, and you swung the ring of keys around your index finger, your bag hanging off your shoulder.

Eric glanced up from where he had his nose buried in his phone screen. “Ready?” He asked, perking up like a golden retriever.

“Yep.” You stopped behind the counter to clock out. “Thanks for keeping me company, Eric. I really appreciate it.”

“Hey, what are f—” His voice broke for a second, and you sent him a look. He cleared his throat, “What are friends for?”

You finished clocking out on the computer, then slipped out from behind the counter and moved toward where Eric was. “Is that what we are?” You jested in reply.

His eyes went wide for a second. “What?”

Your head cocked to the side quizzically. “Is that what we are? Friends?” You repeated. When he still looked dumbfounded, you grimaced, “Was that lame? Yeah, that was lame. Let's just forget about that.”

You stepped toward the front door, but Eric placed a hand on your upper arm to stop you.

“Wait, Yn—”

You stopped with a hum in your throat, head turned back toward him. The two of you stood slightly closer now. Beneath the dim fluorescents, between the cold medicine and magazine rack, you searched this man's eyes for an answer he wasn't giving you. You could measure the length of his eyelashes from this distance, and you saw the shine mark on his lips after his tongue darted out to wet it.

“Eric?” You voiced quietly after he hadn't said anything. “Everything okay?”

Something shuddered in his expression and you swore his cheeks darkened in shade. “Nothing,” he said swiftly. “Sorry, it's nothing.”

Eric sat down across from you with a pair of headphones hanging around his neck and his hood thrown over his head. He nudged his black-rimmed glasses up his nose as he powered his laptop on. “Hey,” he whispered to you, his eyes darting around to make sure no one around you was bothered by his speaking.

The two of you were situated in the upper levels of your university library to study for your upcoming final exams. Most of the libraries on campus had a system in place where lower levels were meant as collaborative spaces with each level getting quieter in general volume. You and Eric were on the top floor, but at one of the desks tucked into one of the bookshelves. There were a few people around you, but they were hidden by walls and shelves, for the most part.

“I think you're fine,” you whispered to him in amusement as you uncapped your highlighter to mark a specific passage in the text you were reading.

Eric got up and quietly moved his chair to sit adjacent to you, rather than across from you. “What're you working on?”

“Just some research for a paper,” you replied. “You?”

“O-chem,” he said, and his entire being flopped over his closed laptop, his face crumpled in anguish.

You cooed silently and gently patted his hoodie-covered head. “You poor thing.”

Oh, organic chemistry. The monster it was.

When he still didn't pick himself or his laptop screen up, you leaned over to lay on top of him. “This is comfortable,” you muttered into the back of his hoodie.

You heard him hum in agreement.

“Dude, I don't even know how you're keeping up with your classes during baseball season,” you whispered and began mindlessly drawing flowers on his back.

“I'm not.”

You had to bury your face into his back to suppress your snort. “That's valid.”

“Thanks.”

“Awwh,” you murmured and wrapped your arms around his back. “It's gonna be okay. I promise.” Out of the two of you, Eric was usually the one with the sunny disposition, but it didn't mean you wouldn't jump at the opportunity to help him feel better. He deserved just as much tender love and care.

For a moment, you stayed in that position with your body covering his and your arms wrapped around him. If you weren't careful, you might have fallen asleep like that.

Eventually, you peeled yourself off of him and coaxed him to sit up with you. “Study for an hour with me and then we can get a treat.”

“Your face is a treat,” he said groggily, rubbing his eye from behind his glasses while yawning.

You covered up any signs of being flustered with, “Is that how you pull girls, Sohn?”

“No, that's how I pull you.”

You didn't need to feel your skin to know your face was on fire. He didn't even glance over at you, only sleepily smacked his lips together and pulled his laptop lid up with robotic motions. Maybe that was a good thing though. You still weren't too sure how you felt about his flirty remarks as of late, and they had yet to cease.

But… you looked over at Eric and he was already getting to work—you could deal with it later. It wasn't like it meant anything, right? Surely, the quickening of your heart and continually flustered state because of him meant absolutely nothing, right? Of course. And they definitely weren't signs that you liked his increased lines. Definitely.

(Who the fuck were you trying to fool?)

As promised, after about an hour passed by, you and Eric packed up your things to head out to find something to munch on. With spring slowly fading out into a pretty summer, the sun gleamed from its perch in the sky to warm the day. The trees lining the walkway were beginning to lose their flower buds in exchange for rich, dark green leaves.

A few minutes out from the university's main campus, you and Eric walked into a bakery that was frequented by many of your peers. It wasn't a complete surprise to see that nearly all of the tables inside were occupied by people with headphones in, laptops on, and books out.

You and Eric hopped in line, nonetheless, your eyes darting from the display case to the room to scout for an open table. Your fingers drummed against the strap of your bag. “You know what you're getting?”

He hummed. “The almond croissant kind of sounds good right now. What about you?”

“Might get a sandwich, to be honest,” you said. You hadn't had a filling breakfast, so you might as well make up for it.

“Which sandwich?”

“You're not paying.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully with a purse of his lips. “That's what you think.”

He did not pay for your sandwich.

While there was not a single open table inside, there were plenty of them outside. Eric wrinkled his nose at you as you were just about to take a bite of your sandwich. You stopped short. “What? Don't tell me you're butthurt, Sohn.”

“That’s such a weird word,” he said, gently pulling a piece of the croissant apart for him to put into his mouth.

“What, butthurt?” You could agree with that. It was kind of funny. “True, but it describes you pretty well.”

He laughed then, his eyes turning upward into pretty, little crescent moons. Since the two of you were forced to sit outside, the sunshine had an easier path to paint over your friend's face and make him look even more ethereal. A feeling worked its way into your chest at the sight of him like this. “Okay, honey. Whatever.”

You smiled around your bite, replying only after you'd swallowed it, “See? Butthurt.”

“I'm a good sport though.”

“Fine, I will admit that you're a good sport.”

His smile widened as if satisfied with that answer.

From within your bag, you could hear an aggressive vibration from your phone. You set your meal down to wipe your hands, then fished the device out.

At the sight of the text messages, your face morphed into one of mild amusement concealing a whole lot of “what the heck?”

Eric noticed your change in mood. “Something wrong?”

“Not necessarily?” You opened up the text chain that you had with Bae Sumin, one of your friends whom you met from a composition class you both shared in freshman year. “She's asking if you'd be interested in being set up for a date.”

You didn't know why there had been a spike of panic in your heart after reading it. It wasn't like you had any claim over Eric; that wouldn't be right to gatekeep him, especially when you didn't like him like… that, right?

His brows knitted together as he skimmed over the messages. When he was done he leaned away, his head already shaking. “I'm not really interested.”

“Really?” You asked curiously, withdrawing your phone back to your side of the table and mentally drafting a text message back. “Sieun's pretty nice.”

“I'm just—” he nudged his glasses up, letting out a breathy laugh, “—I’d rather figure that all out for myself, y'know? It's not like I don't think Sieun's a good person, but I…” He huffed, and it sounded almost frustrated.

You didn't know why you felt guilty all of a sudden. “You don't have to explain it to me, dude,” you said and began texting Sumin back. “If you don't want to, then you don't want to, y'know? It's better than leading her on.”

“Yeah,” he murmured.

“So you're not interested in anyone then?” You asked, in an attempt to slowly bring the conversation away from matchmaking. “You know what? You don't have to say anything—we can talk about something else—”

“I'm interested in someone,” he cut in.

You paused, surprised. You felt your pulse leap. Who? You wanted to ask, but instead inquired, “Really?”

He avoided your eyes. “Yep.”

“Oh.” Well that would make sense why he didn't want to be set up with someone else. Why couldn't he just say that in the first place then?

You gnawed on your bottom lip and couldn't help but think about who Eric could be interested in. There was a jittery flutter in your stomach at the thought. You didn't want to pry, but you were also curious as to who he was interested in. “Well, uh, good for you! I think that's really great.”

That… sounded so insincere.

Eric lifted his gaze to yours, and you felt a jolt run down your spine at the look in his eyes. “Thanks, Yn. I don't really know what to do though, to be honest.”

You frowned, tucking your phone away. “About—about the person? Or about your feelings?”

“I guess,” he said with a helpless gesture of his hands, “both.”

You pressed your lips together. It had been awhile since you were remotely interested in anyone either. And even back then, you were never the sort of person to speak up about your feelings with the person first. But this was Eric, and you wanted to at least try to help him. “Is this person not someone you think you should have feelings for? I guess I’m just asking why you feel conflicted or helpless.”

“Kind of,” he said, tongue in cheek. “They’re—they’re one of my—” He stopped himself. “They’re one of the best people I know, I just don’t think they feel the same way.”

“And so you don’t want to risk losing them should you confess?” You finished for him. You felt your posture droop with sympathy, and maybe a bit of envy. Who could this be about?

Eric scratched the underside of his jaw. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Well, I mean, if they’re as good of a person as you say, I think that they wouldn’t hold it against you or your friendship if you confessed and they didn’t feel the same.” If you were in his situation, you wouldn’t want to lose Eric ei—wait, what? Why were you thinking of it like that? You shook yourself out of whatever delusional headspace you found yourself in. “And in any case, maybe you can flirt with them, or hint to them your feelings and see how they respond.”

His eyebrow arched high. “I’ve definitely done that.”

“And?”

He smirked, a chuckle falling out of his mouth. “They may be one of the best people I know, but they’re as oblivious as a rock sometimes.”

Your own brows lifted. “Damn.” And you knew exactly how blatant Eric’s flirting style was.

Eric’s eyes caught onto something behind you, and you sat up to see what he was looking at. Just on the other side of the outside seating area, you recognized Mark Lee and Kim Jungwoo from Eric’s baseball team strolling past.

Mark lifted a hand, his mouth widening into a grin. “Hey, man! What’s up?”

Eric greeted his teammates with his usual cheeriness, clasping his hand with theirs.

“Oh my gosh, is this the—”

“The best friend,” Eric interrupted, his eyes darting to you. Both Mark and Jungwoo did the same thing, so now you were worried about why they were looking at you like that. “Yeah, this is Yn, my best friend.”

Jungwoo grabbed Mark by his shoulder and extended a greeting fist bump toward you. “Nice to finally meet you, Yn. Eric’s told us a lot about you.”

“Oh?” You glanced over at Eric before reciprocating the gesture. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Hope he’s only said good things,” you jested. Partly.

“Oh, all the good things; don’t worry,” Mark chirped. “We’ll see you at practice later, Eric!”

Eric lifted his hand in a wave as they continued down the street. “See you then!”

Once you were sure they were out of earshot, you picked up your sandwich again. “So you talk about me to your teammates?”

“All good things—you heard Mark,” he said with a laugh, but for some reason, you thought you detected a hint of uncertainty there. “How could I not talk about you?”

“Careful there, you’re starting to sound like you’re obsessed with me.”

“Well, maybe I am,” he shot back at you. He brushed the crumbs from his finished croissant onto the plate, reaching for the small stack of napkins between you two. “But seriously, don’t worry about what those guys said. They just like to mess with me.”

You lifted a shoulder in a meager shrug. “No worries, man. I’m obsessed with you, too, so the feeling’s mutual.”

You relished in the way his countenance noticeably lifted, his expression brightened, the corners of his lips curling into the apples of his pinkened cheeks like twin divots. All of a sudden it was just you and Eric, and you could forget about everything and everyone else.

“He said the L word?” Vernon let out a melodramatic gasp, which made it all the more funny since he'd said it with the most monotonous tone. His eyes had gone wide enough to see the white of his eyes though, and you practically doubled over because of him.

Ningning, unaffected by Vernon's silliness, nodded vigorously. “He said he loved her first! Isn't that crazy?”

You plucked out one of your opened water bottles from the fridge. “I don't think it's that crazy. Is it weird that I don't think it's that crazy?”

Vernon sank deeper into the couch cushion he sat on, eyes already drifting closed. “It's Kim Sunwoo; I don't think it's that crazy either.”

“Am I the only person who was shocked by this?”

“Yes,” you and Vernon answered at once.

Ningning rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. I guess I can see it, too. But it's just weird because he never gave any indication that he even liked her.”

“He was probably just suppressing it?” Vernon offered with a yawn. “Maybe he's just got a lot on his plate. My friend Seungcheol's a little emotionally constipated, too, but it's 'cause he's been slammed by his work stuff.”

“Isn't it crazy that people our age are telling other people they love them already? Like, love-love, and not some kind of primary-school-playground-love.” You moved yourself to join your friends in your micro living room. There was a gathering of laptops and papers scattered on the coffee table, but no one had touched them since they'd been brought out. Finals week burnout was real and tangible.

“One day,” Ningning sighed, less so lovey dovey, and more so exhausted as hell. She leaned her cheek against the back of her knuckles. “I don't know if I wanna get married though.”

“I think marriage is cool,” said Vernon. He had now taken on a coffin position with his arms crossed firmly over his chest and his face tilted up toward the ceiling. “As long as it's with the right person.”

“Yeah, stuff like that can't be rushed,” you agreed. You weren't sure what your plans for the future were; you just hoped you had your friends by your side, at the very least.

All this talk about partners and futures had your mind turning toward your conversation with Eric from lunch the other day. Did he see this crush of his as a potential life partner? He deserved that—someone who loved him as much as he no doubt loved them. Where would that leave you? Didn't you want something like that, too?

“Let's not talk about marriage anymore.” Ningning fwumped onto her side over the remainder of the sectional that Vernon wasn't lying on. She'd clearly given up on studying, same as Vernon. “How's Eric doing, Yn?”

Your head perked up. “Eric? What about Eric?”

“Oh, I dunno.” She held her phone screen directly above her face as she scrolled through social media, her lips pressed together. “Chenle said that Mark said that he's interested in somebody.”

It seemed news traveled fast, but then again, you didn't know how long Eric had been interested in this mystery person. You blinked, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Ah, yeah. He mentioned something about that to me, but he didn't tell me who it was.”

Ningning turned her head slightly to face you and her eyebrow was flicked up toward her hairline. “You're serious?”

“Well, yeah. I'm not gonna force it out of him.”

Vernon peeked one eye open. “Dude, you know that guy would do anything for you, right? If you asked one more time, he probably would have folded like a lawn chair.”

You sent him a pointed look. “I'm not about to force him to give away something sensitive like that. I admit that I'm curious, but…” It just wasn't your business.

He frowned at you, then went back to his half-conscious state.

Were you missing something?

Ningning rolled over completely onto her side. “How about this: how do you feel about Eric being interested in someone?”

Why was this the sudden topic of discussion? You pursed your lips, eyebrows furrowing. “Is this a trick question?”

“Why would it be a trick question?”

You exhaled. “He said that the person he liked was one of the best people he knew, so I'm happy for him. Like I said earlier, it would be nice to know who it was, but I don't want to make him give up something if he's not ready to yet.” That would just be unfair.

Vernon opened his eyes again and turned to Ningning. “Doesn't this sound like an automated response?”

You deadpanned. “It is not an automated response. It's—y’know, why wouldn't I be happy for him?”

With a dead serious tone, your friends said simultaneously, “Because you're in love with him.”

That statement struck a match against your cheeks and set them ablaze. Your lips parted, words failing you. Because you're in love with him?

At your speechlessness, Ningning moved to sit up straight. “We think it's because you have feelings for him,” she rephrased, as if that was any better.

“I do not have feelings for him.”

“I think you do; you might be mistaking it as something else.”

You garbled with the words in your brain, but they slipped and fumbled and wouldn't line up correctly on your tongue. It was to the point that you had to put a pause on trying to come up with a retort, and rather, piece this together logically. There had to be a reason for why both Ningning and Vernon were on the same page with this.

It came to you then, slowly, like a train pulling into the station. It was every one of his flirtatious maneuvers to get you flustered, the bittersweetness you didn't want to acknowledge at the thought that he was interested in somebody else. It was that look in his eyes that you couldn't describe, the way he tripped over his words when it came to calling you a friend. The voice over the intercom was announcing the stop as the train came to a gradual halt.

“Oh.”

Ningning frowned slightly, her head nodding. Vernon was actually awake now. “Yeah.”

So what now?

You knew Eric just finished with his organic chemistry final when you found him passed out on your couch. You'd been out working for the majority of the day and passed him a set of spare keys to your apartment to let himself in whenever he was done so the two of you could start your long awaited movie marathon night. The sun had just set and you'd come with a bag of groceries to make dinner, but all you could think about was the guy snoozing on the couch, his tufts of hair sticking out of his hood.

Cute.

By the time he woke up, you had dinner fixed up, and the apartment was filled with divine aromatics. Some said the smell of food usually made chefs feel full, but you hadn't eaten properly since you left for your shift this morning.

The lump on the couch stirred as you turned off the stove and turned toward the sink to start washing the dishes. You didn't like washing dishes, but it was a necessary evil. Earlier, you’d found the evidence that Eric had helped himself to some of the instant noodles in your cabinets, leaving a note by the dishes in the sink: Sorry, I promise I'll wash these when I wake up!!

You knew he would have kept his word, but you also knew how hard he worked and stressed over that damn exam. It was no inconvenience toward you to wash just a couple extra things.

Eric rolled onto his feet and shuffled into the kitchen, his eyes fluttering to adjust to the warm lighting. “Hi,” he rasped, voice hoarse from his nap.

His chin found your shoulder. “I said I'd wash those,” he murmured, referring to the small pot you were washing now.

“I know. I thought I'd do it anyway.”

“You hate washing the dishes.”

Your movements paused for a second. The organ in your chest was galloping away again, but now you knew the reason. Your head shifted slightly as it bumped against his gently. “I know.”

He was quiet for a moment before his arms came around your form and settled across your stomach and waist. “Thanks. Sorry for the mess.”

“There was no mess, silly goose,” you told him.

“I'll wash the ones after dinner.”

You murmured, “It's okay, Eric. I know you're good for it.”

Eric let out a breath against your neck, his head tucking into the warmth there. “I love you.”

At once, you both froze. You felt his body tense up around you, and knew your movements had stopped completely. You'd both heard what he said crystal clear and even the volume of the sink faucet couldn't dismiss it as a trick of the ear.

“Shit.” He detached himself from you just as you finished washing. You reached for the dry towel next to you on the counter to dry your hands, then turned around to face him. His eyes were wide like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I didn't say that aloud, did I?”

You smiled through a small wince. “You kind of did.”

“What if I left and pretended I wasn't even here?—”

You stepped forward and grabbed him by the shoulders. You gave him a little shake, the smile on your face sweetening. “Hey, Eric. I love you, too.”

His lips fell into a pout. “No, Yn. You—you don't get it. It's—I… I love you.”

“I know,” you said and moved your hands up to cup his face. There was a wobble in his eyes as you said this, that puppy pout deepening. “And I love you, too.”

Eric wrapped his arms around you tight then, a breath of air pushing out from his lips in utter relief. “Oh my god, you have,” he stammered, “no idea how—just—” He pulled away from you and pressed his lips to the side of your face.

You laughed, your hand coming up to cup the back of his head.

His face was split wide open by a massive grin and his eyes, his beautiful eyes, gleamed like a pair of twin stars beneath the dim kitchen lights. “Do you know how hard this has been for me?” He exclaimed while throwing his hands up in the air. “Do you know how much pain I was in when you couldn't get the hint—”

“Hey! Normal people don't just assume that their best friend has feelings for them,” you stuttered out in your own defense.

Eric tilted his head up to the ceiling. “I have literally flirted at you, right to your face.”

“You have a flirty personality.”

“And you are oblivious.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, your head cocking to the side. “Agree to disagree?”

He sighed and the sound was something happy and bright. “Agree to disagree,” he replied. He smiled at you again, but the corners were softer and mellower, the tenderness shining through like the glow of a lamp covered in a fabric shade. “I've been dying to tell you since I went to LA; I just didn't know how.”

“LA?” You parroted.

“I just couldn't stop thinking about wanting you there with me,” he said like it was the easiest thing in the world. “I'd be in the hotel room, staring up at the ceiling with the stupidest smile on my face thinkin’ 'bout you, and then I'd realize I actually was in love with you. It would flip-flop between those two things all trip long.”

You chuckled as you imagined Eric's starkly different facial expressions for each version of himself. It was an amusing thought. “Well, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for all the strife I put you through.”

His hands warmed over the sides of your arms. “Hey, honey, it was all worth it in the end.”

“You know,” you said, playing with one of the strings of his hoodie, and his hands came to rest around your waist loosely, “if the comfort and—the warmth and the happiness I feel around you is love, then I think I've been in love with you since the day we met.”

Eric's lips pressed in a deep pout again. “Come on! You can't possibly say that and not expect me to wanna kiss you.”

“I'm not saying no,” you teased.

There was that smile again. He licked his lips once and leaned over to gently press his mouth against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you let his softness consume you and ignite you all at once. It occurred to you that you were never scared of losing Eric as a friend—this was just what was next for you both.

When you both pulled away, your breaths still intermingling, his cheeks were a pretty, bubblegum pink color.

“Was that your first kiss?” You joked even though you knew full well it wasn't.

His laugh was low, but his expression brightened. “Might as well be,” he said, “it's the only one I wanna remember.”

Your tongue stuck out of the corner of your mouth as you carefully pulled the loops of ribbon through itself to create the perfect, matching bow to the one on the other side of your head. Chenle was hosting a start-of-summer party, and it was mandated that you and your friends attend (according to Ningning).

Through your mirror, your eyes caught a presence at your bedroom door. “Oh my god, you're so cute,” Eric groaned, turning to the side to melodramatically hit his head against the doorframe.

You melted into a smile. “Thanks. I wasn't really sure how they would look actually.”

“Well, they're perfect. You’re perfect. Please don't take them off.” He came over to join you were you sat on the floor in front of your body length mirror.

You wiggled around a strand of pink ribbon you had cut off earlier, but didn't end up using because it was way too long for a hair bow. “I've got an extra piece. Do you want it?”

He scoffed, a hand carding through his hair, “Of course, I want it.”

Very pleased with his response, you clambered onto your knees to decide where to put it. He was dressed casually with a loose tank top, board shorts, and a cap on backwards. You squinted one of your eyes closed. “I've got it.”

“You've got it?” He repeated with a chuckle, smile widening as you practically climbed into his lap. “Hi,” he said with your faces close to each other and his hands resting on either side of your waist.

“Calm down there, tiger,” you teased, “I'm just gonna tie it where everyone can see it.”

You looped the ribbon around his left bicep, his arm subtly flexing as you did so. You made sure the bow looked as perfect as you were capable of making it. With a little pat of your hand, you deemed that it was all set.

“Perfect,” he said with a nod of affirmation.

You nodded along with him. “I'd agree.”

“Hey.” He drew your attention over to him once more and his hands pulled you flush against him. There was a goofy grin on his lips as he gazed at you with wide, doe-like eyes that melted into pairs of molten chocolate. “Do you think…”

“Do I think?” You prompted, wrapping your arms around the back of his shoulders.

“Do you think that if I kissed you in front of our friends, they'd realize we were dating?”

A laugh fell from your mouth, and Eric had never seen something so pretty in his life. (There were few things worthy of being engraved on the backs of one's eyelids, but he thought he just found a view that was. He would chase your smile until the end of time.)

“What?” He beamed. “Good idea, right?”

“I thought we said we were soft launching,” you said, the smile yet to retreat.

“I guess,” he sighed dramatically and leaned back onto his hand to drape the other one across his forehead like a damsel in distress.

You went forward to kiss him. “You're cute.”

“Isn't that my line?” He teased. He licked his lips a little then, expression becoming thoughtful. “I know this is gonna be something different—this relationship—but at the same time, I feel like nothing's changed.”

Swoon. You went in for another kiss and lingered there a bit longer when his hand came up to cup the back of your neck. “It'll be different and the same,” you agreed. “Just better.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Definitely better.”

It was scary—this venture into new territory. It was something that both you and Eric would experience and discover together. But on the bright side, at least you were in love. Maybe that was all that mattered in the end.

a/n: everybody say 'thank god she expanded the plot'

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary

[desolateyears]

Have a mini fic about Steve annotating books and Eddie finding it really hot🖤

So obviously, Eddie's a bookworm. Before he had any friends, he spent the better parts of his childhood at Hawkins Library after school and Hawkins Middle's library during any recesses and lunches. He constantly read books, this was before Wayne got him a guitar and before he got into dnd, and being a bookworm tremendously helped him fuel both of those hobbies later on. But before then? The library was like a second home to him. 

And so, recently founding out that Steve reads, like a lot, is something of a revalation. It's not that Eddie thinks the guy is stupid, but he figured the guy spent time doing other productive hobbies at home. But the guy reads, and as previously mentioned, Eddie considers himself a literature connoisseur of sorts. Writing book reports and essays were one of the few things he actually excelled at in high school. 

So anyway, he found out that Steve is a book nerd by finding one of Steve's books open on his bed. Not really the strangest thing that Eddie's come across in Steve's room if he's being honest, and not the biggest indicator of nerdiness, until he focuses his attention and acknowledges the bright colors sprawled across the pages. 

A burst of rainbow colors underlining what Eddie guesses are his favorite parts of the story or important stuff he wanted to remember. And obviously, Eddie has to ask him about it. and Steve explains to him that he has a whole color key and it's made up of romantic lines that make him feel warm, sad stuff that makes him tear up, stuff that is word for word undoubtedly Steve Harrington sprawled on a page. Steve won't tell him which color is which, too embarrassed by it, but he lets Eddie read through them, and then he stares at Steve in unyeilding fondness. 

The look reflected on Steve's is not the same, mostly anxiety and insecurity, which Eddie immediately wants to soothe. It's so so sweet he thinks but Eddie's mouth translates the words into, "That's so fucking hot." Which, shit man, it is but he hadn't meant to say it out loud. 

"Shut up, dude, don't make fun of me right now." 

And listen, books are everything to him, this is no joking matter. They inspire his own stories, whether through a dnd campaign or writing song lyrics. It's honestly probably the most attractive thing a person could do in Eddie's opinion, he didn't know how hot until right about now, but he'll die on this hill. Annotating your books is hot. 

"Listen to me when I say this Steve, while that is the nerdiest thing I've ever heard and I'm, ya know, me. It's also about the most attractive thing that's come out of that pretty mouth of yours, like ever."

And Steve folds his arms across his fucking beautifully sculpted chest and narrows his eyes just slightly, raising a judgemental eyebrow at him. 

"You're being serious."

Oh he's never been more serious about anything in his life. 

"Uh...yeah? Yes. Oh my god."

Yeah, real eloquent Edward. 

Whatever, his heart is pounding profuesely against his rib cage because holy shit Steve is a book nerd and Eddie wants to kiss him fucking yesterday. So he gets on all fours on Steve's bed to lean forward and basically attacks his mouth before he can even think about it. 

And when he pulls back, Steve's pupils are blown wide and his breath has picked up pace, and Steve keeps bouncing between looking at Eddie's eyes and his lips. 

"You just kissed me."

It comes out disbelieving. 

"Yeah and with your permission I'd like to continue, like stat, immediately, now."

"You're insane."

And hands weave through curls and pull. 

Eddie tumbles foward, ending fully sprawled on top of Steve, and, jesus christ, body pressed impossibly close to his. 

And after they're romantic, read: nerdy horniness, little makeout session, he forces Steve to read the annotations himself, going through all the books that are important to Steve. He has to stop himself from moaning to really emphasize how hot he finds it, and to make Steve slightly embarrassed, but refrains. Just lets him continue. 

Eddie has never been so in love in his life.

[inkedbydesire]

Extortion Part 2 (18+)

Jimmy Uso x Black Fem Reader

(Part 1)

Warning: 18+ Content, detailed storyline with just a little SMUT, MINORS DO NOT ENTER

Summary: Some extremely intimate photos of you and your boyfriend Jonathan Fatu (Jimmy Uso) have fallen into the wrong hands. Now you two must deal with the aftermath of finding out you’re being extorted.

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: It took way too long to write this. But I’m thankful you guys seemed to like the first part of this story so I decided to continue it. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors or typos.

Tagging: @msbigredmachine @trentybenty

*************************************************

"Bitch, why would you be butt-ass naked fucking on a balcony anyway?"

You watched your best friend through the screen of your iPhone as her caramel features contorted in pure confusion. As always, Chanel didn't hold back. You could always count on her to ask the most outwardly obnoxious questions. And normally her bluntness would make you laugh, cutting through any tension in your life. But not today. Not with everything you were currently dealing with. Today all Chanel's lack of a filter did was pile onto the rapidly growing weight on your chest.

It had been two days since you'd been back home from Costa Rica, and you were still trying to wrap your head around the mess you and Jonathan had found yourselves in. You could barely eat or sleep. And for the last 48 hours, you had been doing everything in your power to distract yourself from the magnitude of the situation. Stupidly, you were hoping to somehow wake up to it all being an extremely vivid dream. But no, each day you still awoke to that email taunting you.

You had no choice but to face reality.

Someone had pictures of you and Jonathan having sex out on that balcony in Costa Rica. That person threatened to spread those pictures if Jonathan didn't cough up 50,000 dollars in the next few days. The email said that he had a week starting after the day that the email was delivered. That was two days ago. Which meant you only had five days left before everything came crashing down.

You couldn't stop obsessing over the only two options you had. And neither one of them offered much comfort.

Option one: Pay the money.

Get it over with by doing what the creep was demanding. It sounded like the quickest way to get whoever it was to leave you and Jonathan alone. But still... who's to say that the person wouldn't come back for more, figuring that if Jonathan did it once, he would be liable to do it again? After all, the person would still have those pictures. And even worse, they could easily get Jonathan's money and still sell the photos to someone else.

Option two: Go to the cops.

Extortion was illegal. Maybe the authorities could track down the person before anything got leaked. But there was zero security in that. Even if the cops could find the person before the deadline, who's to say they hadn't already sent the photos to a few of their friends just in case?

No matter how you looked at it, you still felt like this was something that would haunt you for the rest of your life. And it left you feeling completely helpless.

Calling Chanel wasn't about seeking advice. This situation was unique to you and Jonathan, so you knew she could offer none. This call was more about needing a lifeline. You had to get ahead of this somehow. And you knew that there would be no pressure in telling Chanel. She was already privy to tons of your deepest secrets since you two became best friends in middle school. She knew you better than anyone on earth.

There was one person you were dreading having to relay the information to though, your mother. Just the thought of that conversation made you physically sick. And you were pretty sure that Jonathan was in the same boat with his parents.

How do you tell the people who raised you something like you were having sex in public and now someone had pictures of it?

It seemed damn near impossible.

However, yesterday Jonathan did tell his twin brother about the predicament. To your astonishment, all Joshua did was laugh at the situation at first, but then Jonathan hit him with a dose of reality. This situation didn't just affect you and him. Joshua could very well be confused for the person in those photos. Sure, he and Jonathan were fraternal twins with different hairstyles and tattoos, but everyone knows that the general public is going to believe what they want.

Who knew how far all of this could spiral?

The blackmailer could take those pictures and twist the story however they wanted. Hell, they could take an extreme step and make it look like you were cheating on Jimmy with Jey if they wanted to. People wouldn't give a damn about the truth. They would only care about the mess.

You had no idea that one reckless moment with the man you loved would spiral into such a living nightmare.

"That's not the point, Chanel," you stated to her as you returned from your stress-filled thoughts.

Her face softened as she studied you. "I know. I was trying to cheer you up, Y/N. You look terrified, girl."

"Thanks for trying," you murmured, then sighed before saying "I am terrified."

"Do you and Jonathan know what y'all are going to do?" A look of genuine concern washed over her facial features.

"Not yet," you admitted with a weak shrug. "But we don't have a choice but to figure something out."

Truthfully though, you and Jonathan hadn't even had a real discussion about the ordeal yet. You fainted when he told you about it in Costa Rica, so you felt like he was giving you the time and space to fully process what was happening. The expression on his face when you came to would forever be burned into your memory. You don't know how long you were out but when you opened your eyes, he was hovering over you, holding a cold towel to your forehead with the most petrified expression on his face. You had never seen him like that before and never wanted to see it again.

"This is a crazy-ass situation, Y/N," Chanel muttered more so to herself as your eyes averted up to the top of your phone screen after you felt a buzzing sensation. You quickly skimmed over the message you just received from Jonathan.

As you typed your okay to his message, you exhaled a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding. Even amidst the chaos, the mere thought of being near him made the burden feel just a little lighter.

Costa Rica was only a memory now as you and Jonathan had to step back into your day-to-day lives. He went back to work, and you, a first-grade teacher, had lesson plans and grading to get through. Your sub had covered for you while you took your little impromptu vacation, but on Monday you had to return to the classroom.

The world didn't stop for this disaster. You and Jonathan still had to find a way through it. No matter how this played out, the earth would keep spinning.

You conversed with Chanel for a few more minutes over FaceTime before you tore yourself away from the welcomed distraction and halfheartedly focused on your lesson plan. About 15 minutes into that, you heard Jonathan entering your apartment with the key you gave him a month ago.

"What's up, baby?" You heard his cheerful voice as he turned the corner and entered the living room. He dropped his training bag on the floor before walking over to where you were sitting on the couch. You pushed your MacBook aside and stood up to greet him with a hug.

"Get anything done today?" He asked you as he lifted you without effort while you wrapped your legs securely around his waist and placed your arms around his neck.

"Not much." You admitted to him. Anytime you tried to solely focus on your lesson plan, your mind wandered to that email and the mass destruction that was soon awaiting you. And that seemed to be the only thing to occupy your mind.

"I understand. It's a lot going on," he stated knowingly before pecking you on the lips.

"I'm about to hop in the shower right quick, though. Come get in with me." He added.

"I already got in," you told him.

"I didn't ask you that. I said come get in with me." He responded with a smile as he kept you in his arms and started walking towards the stairs that led up to your bedroom. He didn't place you back onto your feet until he reached the bathroom connected to your room. Something you already knew he would do because this was nearly a weekly occurrence for you two. You would always shower before Jonathan came over, and he would always want you to get right back in with him. Some nights you stood your ground, and others you gave in.

Tonight felt like one of those caving-in nights.

"Okay, but I don't want to hear no complaining about the temperature." You warned him as you moved over and pulled your shower door open. You turned on the water, adjusting it to your liking. A liking that Jonathan always seemed to have a problem with. You could already hear his nagging, "It's too hot." But on second thought, you found yourself adjusting the temperature so that you wouldn't have to hear his whining. Something you always did in the end anyway.

"I don't even be complaining," Jonathan muttered under his breath in a childish tone, making you smile and shake your head as you turned your attention to your mirror.

You watched his reflection as he took his hair down from the low ponytail he had it in and tossed the hair wrapper on the counter. You took the same wrapper and used it to put your braids up into a bun before walking back over to where he was removing his clothes. You followed in line, removing yours before stepping into the shower with him.

Your body instantly relaxed underneath the soothing water as you and Jonathan eased into familiar positions with his hands resting on your hips as you adjusted yourself in front of him. Lucky for you both, your shower was wide enough for you to stand beside each other rather than someone being forced to be in the back. You never had to deal with the predicament of someone hogging the water, and you were very thankful for that. One less thing you had to hear Jonathan jokingly whine about.

The sound of the water softly cascading off your bodies and hitting the shower floor could be the only thing heard for a few minutes as you and Jonathan appreciated each other's physical presence. He ran his hands from your hips to your thighs, then back up again while you traced his tattoos with your fingertips. He then planted a light kiss on your forehead, and for that moment while you were lost in each other, it almost felt like everything was okay.

Almost.

"Alright... how do you feel about everything?" Jonathan asked, abruptly shifting you back to reality. You looked up, connecting your eyes with his, knowing that "everything" meant that he finally wanted you to express how you felt about that email and what could potentially come of it.

You didn't know how the hell you two would manage to pull it off but no matter what you had to figure it out. Step one: have an actual conversation about it.

"I've... I've been," you begin to say, searching your brain for the right words.

"I've been managing it," you finalized as you reached behind Jonathan and grabbed your French vanilla-scented soap bar and loofah, before proceeding into your showering routine for the second time tonight.

Every few seconds you were internally uncontrollably freaking out about the situation but still, you wanted to appear brave in front of Jonathan. You already did something as extreme as fainting over it so you didn't want to do anything further to add to the stress he was most likely already under.

"Well, you know you don't have to manage the shit on your own......that's what I'm here for," he told you as he turned around and grabbed his showering items that were neatly kept beside yours. It was sort of unspoken but Jonathan had low-key moved into your apartment over the months. 75 percent of his clothing and personal items were sorted among your things. It happened so seamlessly that somehow it seemed like it had been that way all along.

"Be real with me Y/N." he urged you as he returned his gaze to yours watching you intently. It was clear that he wasn't buying your "I've been managing it" bullshit. He had learned your body language so well that he always knew when you were holding something back from him. You didn't know why you still tried to put up a front for him. He saw right through it every single time.

"Okay ........" you began to backtrack on your previous statement.

"Truthfully, I'm scared Jon," you revealed to him as you dropped your eyes from his and focused more on washing your body to distract yourself from how intense the conversation was about to get. 

"I'm scared that if those pictures are exposed, I won't be able to face my family and friends or your family and friends anymore." You continued, and the more you talked the more you realized that wanting to put on a brave face for him was pointless. He had to be your rock through this as you had to be his. This was something you were going through together.

"And I know you're not supposed to care, but I'm scared about how the internet will perceive me and most importantly..." You paused as your next train of thought caused your heart to sink.

"I'm scared of losing my job," you concluded.

Since you were a little girl, you've always known that you wanted to be a teacher. So after you graduated high school you worked hard to make your dream come true. There were zero bumps in the road during your 4-year teaching career up until this point.

This whole ordeal was nerve-wracking because your being in a relationship with Jimmy Uso was public knowledge that even most of your students knew now. A lot of them tuned in to wrestling with their parents or on their own so the fact that Ms. (Your/Lastname) was dating a wrestler was exciting news to them. The amount of Jimmy and Jey Uso action figures you found yourself having to confiscate because your students thought it was funny to bring them out during the middle of your lessons was comical. But despite that, you still found their admiration for Jonathan and his craft heartwarming and even planned to surprise them with him on Career Day in the future.

But right now that same future was looking dreadful.

Your stomach turned at the thought of what your students and their parents would see if those photos were to get leaked. You had no idea how the school board would react. Would they understand that this was something that was completely out of your control? Or would they blame you for being reckless?

Could this be the end of your teaching career? You couldn't see any other school hiring you if those photos were exposed. 

"What about you? How do you feel, Jon?" You suddenly asked him needing to deflect from your own feelings for a moment. You already knew how real this whole thing was but talking about your fears out loud was suddenly making it hard to breathe and the steam from the shower wasn't making it any better.

"I thought about it and I feel like I'ma be able to handle whatever happens," he told you with a surprising shrug as he moved his soapy washcloth from his neck to his chest.

This was your first time paying close attention to it but Jonathan didn't seem to have the same worry on his face that you had been sporting for the last 2 days. Besides looking terrified when you fainted afterward he quickly transformed back into his carefree goofy self. All this time you were assuming that you two had to be experiencing the same emotions because who wouldn't be freaking out behind this?

But you should've known that not even this could rattle Jonathan Fatu.

Since being with him you learned that no matter what life threw at him he always seemed to maintain a Hakuna Matata ass mindset. He always saw the glass as half full instead of half empty in any situation. He eased through life reminding himself to take things one day at a time. And that shit worked for him. But you on the other hand were a raging worrier. You worked yourself up and stressed over the smallest things. You two being so different in that aspect was probably why your relationship worked so well.

Jonathan grounded you.

"I'm just worried about you baby. I don't care how I'm going to be viewed or how people are going to react if those pictures get out. But I know this will affect you in a different way than it will affect me so how you're handling everything is my main priority."

As you thought about it you realized that he was right.

The backlash of the photos would hit you two differently. For one, Jonathan was a part of one of the most important storylines that the WWE had to often and he put so many years into the company. They wouldn't fire him over this especially with it not being his fault. Yeah, it would look bad for a little while but people would move on.

But even though you had given 4 years of your life to teaching, you could still see the school board turning their backs on you.

And as sad as it sounds at the end of the day Jonathan was a man. No one would judge him as harshly as you would be judged for what those photos consisted of. In fact, Jonathan would probably get a few brownie points while you would be slut shamed for simply engaging in a natural act with your boyfriend.

That was the world you lived in.

So you could see why Jonathan didn't carry the same stress as you.

"We were just having a conversation about you not being able to handle my lifestyle a couple of days ago and then some shit like this happens. I bet you really thinking about not wanting to be with me now. That's the only thing I'm worried about." he admitted.

You looked up at him confusedly for a few seconds.

"Wait ...... that's what you're worried about?" you asked him. "Me not wanting to be with you over this?"

As he nodded yes at you solemnly your heart fluttered at the notion that you walking out of his life was his main concern. Not the pornographic images of you and him that could potentially be plastered all over the internet in a few days.

He was worried about you breaking up with him. It sounded crazy but you loved him more because of it.

"Jon....listen," you told him as you ran your wet hands up his chest before placing them on either side of his neck.

"That's the last thing on my mind," you told him attempting to put his mind to rest.

"Yes, I'm scared as fuck about what will happen but I'd be even more terrified if I didn't have you to lean on. I love you."

"I love you too." He responded before leaning down to place another kiss on your forehead.

"We just have to figure it out," you said to him.

"I'm already on it." he told you "We got a meeting with my lawyer tomorrow morning. I'm not giving up no money just to have those pictures used against us anyway so we gone take it to the law and deal with whatever comes next."

You had no idea that Jonathan was already on top of things. His taking the initiative to do so did give you just a little more hope in the outcome.

"But no matter what we gone be alright ......... alright?" He asked you.

"Alright," you responded.

"Just stop stressing yourself out about it. I don't like how you been walking around here looking. And I don't want you to scare the fuck out of me again like you did when you fainted."

You could see in his eyes how much that still bothered him. You realized then that you needed to find a way to somehow take on his mindset. You had to stop worrying so much about it because, at the end of the day, it wouldn't help anything. 

"I'm trying. I literally just can't stop thinking about it ..... like not even for a second. But I'll try Jon. I swear." you told him truthfully with a weak smile telling yourself that you would fight hard to have a better spirit about the situation. 

"If you need some help not thinking about it I promise that I could take your mind off of it for a while." He stated to you.

"How?" you asked him and instantly regretted it when you saw the goofy ass grin he gave you in response as he placed his hands on your hips again.

"Jon no ..... no," you told him as you pushed his chest a little.

"That's the whole reason we're dealing with this right now." you shook your head at him and genuinely laughed for the first time in 2 days baffled that sex would even be on his mind right now. But you really weren't that surprised. Not much could throw a wrench in Jonathan's sex drive. There was no difference between him and the energizer bunny.

"Come on.... we can't let some weirdo with a camera stop us from doing what we do." He spoke to you softly before leaning down and planting a few kisses on your neck knowing that was a sure way to get you stirred up.

 And it did.

"You looked good as fuck in them pictures though." He said when he returned his eyes to yours.

"I don't care. Something like that is supposed to be for your eyes only," you responded to him with a hit of playfulness causing him to smile. 

Engaging in the very act that had a whole world of trouble waiting for you seemed ironic. But you had been worrying yourself crazy for 48-plus hours about the possible outcomes of that email. Maybe you deserved to let go for a moment.

You were still hesitant but all of that went out the window when Jonathan's lips touched yours. As you gladly welcomed his tongue into your mouth you felt him pulling you with him as he moved back and sat down on your shower seat. He then broke the kiss by reaching down grabbing hold of your right leg and pulling it up to place it over his shoulder.

"You're going to drop me" you squealed as you gripped onto him for support as he softly kissed your other set of lips.

"Have I ever dropped you before?" He asked as he paused to look up at you.

"No." You responded.

"Okay then. I'm not going to start today," he told you then moved his focus back to between your legs. He held onto you tightly as you tried your best to balance on one leg underneath the water as you felt his tongue on your clit. He moved it slowly up and down over your button causing you to moan out into the air.

"Oooh s-shit Jon" you breathe out as he started to gently suck on your clit. As you focused squarely on that feeling that email traveled to the far back of your mind.

You would just have to deal with that shit tomorrow.

*************************************************

[girllock-writes]

"Daddy's Money"

Pairings: cowboy!bucky x rancher's daughter!reader

Summary: Bucky notices someone from his past and it's distracting him in church.

AN: Based on the song Daddy's Money by Ricochet, I needed more cowboy Bucky, so here yall go ig. No warnings, just me being a fangirl :)

---------------------------------------------------

Bucky sat in the wooden pew, barely paying attention. The small church was warm and crowded as the small town of Montgomery gathered on a particularly sunny Sunday. Reverend Cole spoke enthusiasticly about whatever passage he was preaching on, but Bucky didn't care.

Up in the choir loft, the robed figure looked like an angel.

It was y/n l/n. She was back in town. Her father, one of the richer ranchers, had made sure she always had the best of everything. She wasn't the type of person to advertise it, but her daddy had money.

Her hair curled around her bright smile. She was twice as pretty as her mama. There was no question as to where she got her good looks from.

Bucky rememberd the last time he had heard her voice. She had made a joke about their mutual friend, Sam Wilson, being more difficult to tame than a wild horse. He remembered almost spitting out his water. Sam, being known for his charm with the ladies, was a hard one to tame. She wasn't just well off and pretty, she was funny too. He remembered her getting into trouble for sneaking out when they were younger. She had never liked to stay in when all her friends were riding out to the lake in the middle of the night. Wild was another word Bucky would use.

Y/n l/n had been away at college for the past six years. Bucky had heard she had visited a few times over breaks and holidays but he had never seen her. She had done a dual program with a bachelor's in history and a masters in agricultural science and administration. Smart too.

He wondered how many of the other young men in the congregation were distracted by her. She had everything. A deadly combination of beauty and brains. He'd seen her fish, she was damn good at it. He'd seen her kiss too, she had been no stranger to the local teen hangouts. She was dynamite. Country through and through.

Bucky’s mind began to wander as he reminisced about y/n. He hadn't seen or spoken to her in years. How was he supposed to now? Her second cousin had been his thrid grade teacher, but that side of the family had moved out of town about a year ago. That was probably no good. He remembered doing her grandmother's lawn a few times back in highschool, but that wasn't much to go off of.

Bucky gave a small smile, remembering how y/n had looked as a high schooler. A little lanky and awkward, sure, it was high school, but she had always been the life of the town. Getting into trouble then turning around and helping out more than anyone at the annual hoedown. He remembered how she had grown much more quiet after her sophomore year. She got into less trouble, but got better at hiding her wild side. He wondered how much she had changed.

She was really gown up now. Grown into herself, that's to say.

And she was gorgeous.

“Let us pray,” Reverend Cole said, snapping Bucky from his daydream.

As everyone bowed their heads, Bucky closed his eyes tightly. *Lord… if you happen to have an extra miracle or two, spare me one. Let me walk down the isle and say “I do” to Y/n l/n. Please…*

“Amen!” Cole boomed, as the congregation followed in suit. The choir began to sing the last hymn before the church was dismissed.

Bucky's mouth moved, but his eyes and mind were fixed only on one thing. The angel in the choir loft. Y/n.

He grinned as her eyes met his, her voice ringing out with the others. It was heavenly. She didn't look away. There was a sparkle in her eyes.

The service ended and Bucky made his way to the far side of the rows where Sam and his family had been sitting.

“Did ya see who's back,” he said lowly.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “L/n? Yeah, I heard she was commin back from her cousin.” Bucky looked over to where y/n stood, greeting a fellow choir member. Sam laughed at his friend. “Looks like she's got her daddy's money and her mama's good looks. Looks like you'll have a challange on your hands with that one.”

Bucky smiled as y/n met his gaze again. He leaned over to Sam, not breaking her eye contact. “Yeah, but look who's lookin at me.”

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝟏

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: After moving to Hawkings for a fresh start, you meet a boy with kind, brown eyes who will quickly become a friend and maybe something more. The only problem is: you took something that belongs to him by accident and now you don't know what to do.

A/N: Yes, there will be more parts. No, i don't know when. I hope this start doesn't suck.

You kind of hated how you had thought moving there was a good idea. Of course, your aunt had told you that she would welcome you with open arms if you ever decided to go and live with her but she had never told you that the people there seemed to look all the same and that everyone would have stared at you in a weird way, being the only crazy person who moved there after years of no new arrivals.

Hawkins was a small midwestern town located in Roane County in the state of Indiana and it wasn't hard to tell that it wasn't a very busy or interesting place even though you were driving down the main street for the first time, heading towards the house where you were supposed to live for quite some time, if everything would have gone as it should and your aunt hadn't decided to get rid of you after a few days, like you had basically done with your parents.

You looked first on the left and then the right side of the road, while the music was still playing loudly in the vehicle, trying to figure out which way you were supposed to go, then you remembered that you had a map of the city somewhere in your pickup.

You glanced at the back seats, where there were several suitcases and a few bags full of things that you would probably never need and which were just taking up a lot of space in your car already always full of various junk.

You noticed a lamp peeking out from a bag and wondered for the second time that morning what the hell was going on in your mind.

"C'mon, where are you?" You talked to yourself, searching through the sea of ​​objects scattered on the dashboard: a concert ticket, some polaroids containing memories of a life you were leaving behind (which had fallen from the ceiling of the car where you kept at least fifty of them fixed with tacks), a horror book by an unknown writer (the school library had crossed it out because it was considered inappropriate for kids), a shoe whose match had been lost while you were packing your bags, a half-empty green spray can and no trace of the city map.

The car behind you honked: you had not moved for at least two minutes.

"I'm trying to figure out where I need to go! I'm sorry!" You shouted through the rolled down window before the car passed you and a man gave you the middle finger.

"Rude." You commented, sighing and thinking about what to do.

Did continuing to wander around the city until you found the right path make sense?

You were about to restart the pickup when you saw a boy who couldn't have been older than fourteen and a taller, blond boy wearing a green and white jacket talking to each other as they walked along the sidewalk.

You grabbed your leather jacket and got out of the car, hoping no one would complain about the inappropriate place you were leaving it. Your driving teacher was probably right when she told you you sucked at parking.

"I'll be right back Casper." You said to the thing in the passenger seat. Nobody responded.

You reached the two boys just as the blond guy took the hat off the younger one, laughing.

You didn't immediately understand what was happening.

"Sorry, do you know where I can find-"

"Hey! Give it back!" The younger one tried to grab the hat while the other laughed, raising his arm straight up so he couldn't reach it.

"Give what back?" The blond laughed.

You cleared your throat. The two turned to you suddenly.

"What do you want?" The older one asked in an annoyed tone, looking you up and down.

"I wanted to know where Piney Wood Lane was but now I don't wanna talk with you anymore. Give the hat back."

He snorted as if I had come to ruin the party. "You can never have fun with you weirdos around."

You caught it before it landed in a puddle as the blonde dropped it to the ground.

He pointed to the kid saying something like "I'm not fucking done with you" before walking away.

"What a nice guy!" You yelled after him as he turned the corner.

"As always." The younger commented.

"Is everyone like this around here? I just moved but people like him make me want to go back to where I came from." You handed the hat back to him with a half smile.

You hated people like that guy, you had never understood how anyone could take pleasure in making someone else suffer.

"Not all. Most but not all, some of my friends are really cool. Thanks for that." He put the hat back on his head, covering his short curls, on his face a grateful expression even if you didn't do much.

You found yourself wondering what these "cool friends" of his were like.

"Good to know." You sighed ironically.

“I'm Dustin, by the way.” Dustin smiled at you.

You said your name and shook his hand, you thought that you had known that kid for about five minutes and you would already do anything to protect him.

Dustin looked at the car parked behind you. “Your car is so cool!” He commented in amazement, pointing with his finger at the drawings standing out against the black background, on the side of it.

"Thanks, it's a mess but it represents me, I think."

“Wait, what is that thing sitting in the passenger seat?”

"Oh, that's Casper!"

"It's a-"

"A skeleton, yes. My biology teacher let me borrow it from his class."

Dustin looked at you questioningly.

"Okay, I stole it. But he's a great travel companion, and never complains about the music I choose."

Dustin laughed. "I swear, you would love my friends."

"And I really would like to get to know them but now, could you help me find Piney Wood Lane? I lost the map in the middle of all the shit in my car."

"Sure I can, I know that street!" The boy nodded, hoping that you could become one of his "cool friends".

That afternoon, what had become your room was already full of stuff scattered around and suitcases that you didn't feel like unpacking everywhere. The posters you would soon hang were on the desk but you had decided to leave Casper in the car for a while longer. You had put most of your clothes in the closet and packed a bag full of spray cans with the intention of going out and finding a nice wall to do your first mural in the new town.

That time you didn't have any of your friends to make sure the cops didn't come but you figured that for your first few days there, you could manage on your own.

You grabbed a book in case you found a quiet place to read: you felt safer when you went out taking a book with you, even if you weren't sure you'd find a place or time to read.

“Are you going to explore the town?” Your aunt asked with a smile as you came out of your room with your bag over your shoulder.

You couldn't help but be grateful to her, she had said she would treat you like a daughter and give you a room of your own and that was exactly what she had done. You hadn't seen her in years and you didn't know each other very well but for the moment you seemed to get along well and your relationship seemed more peaceful than the one you'd had with many people in your old hometown.

Maybe this was really a new beginning for you.

"Yeah, something like that." You tried to sound convincing.

"Okay, don't get in trouble on your first day here."

You smiled.

"Oh, I would never do that."

You jumped off the trash can you were standing on, in the alley you had chosen for your mural.

You turned the spray can in your paint-stained hands, observing the work on the wall in front of you: you liked dragons in fantasy stories, you thought it might be nice to experiment with something like that.

"Yeah, you don’t look that bad." You said to the creature painted on the wall, before noticing that the sun was starting to set and it was probably time to go home.

You put the spray cans back in your bag and threw the empty ones into the bins you climbed onto.

Then, you heard a noise.

"Please don't be a cop." You muttered to yourself, placing your bag over your shoulder and walking out of the alley.

The footsteps got closer.

"Please don't be a cop." You repeated, keeping your gaze down as you rounded the corner, hoping to escape, that way, from whoever was coming in your direction.

Of course, luck wasn't on your side, as always: you collided with the person who was coming in your direction and if they hadn't grabbed you by the arm you would have surely ended up on the ground like the rest of your stuff.

Your book, your bag, and several spray cans scattered across the ground, some rolling away from you.

"Shit." You said through your teeth, looking up to look into the eyes of the person you had collided with.

A gentle and slightly worried gaze met yours, his chocolate brown eyes watching you as if to make sure you were okay. His expression was completely different from the way the boy who was bothering Dustin had looked at you that morning.

His messy, curly hair was brown like his eyes and his slight smile was reassuring.

"Are you good?" He asked, letting go of your arm after making sure you wouldn't fall.

"Oh, thank god you're not a cop!"

“And neither are you, good for both of us.” He chuckled before helping you pick up what you had dropped. You did the same, so quickly that you didn't even realize you had put something in the bag that didn't belong to you.

"I'm fine." You grabbed the spray can he was holding out to you, your fingers grazed his, adorned with chunky silver rings, and the action made you feel a weird sensation that you couldn't identify and that only lasted a few seconds in your stomach, “thank you.”

"It's a pleasure. It's always nice to help pretty girls break the law." He chuckled.

"I wasn't breaking any laws." You rolled your eyes, aware that you both knew you were lying, almost without realizing that he had called you pretty.

"Then why did you hope I wasn't a cop?"

"Maybe I just think they're not nice."

"Well, believe me, I've been arrested several times and I can guarantee you that most of them aren't."

You raised your eyebrows. "You've been arrested several times? What the hell did you do?"

"You really don't wanna know."

“Okay mystery man,” You rolled your eyes, the boy laughed at the nickname and you immediately liked the sound of it, then you held out your hand, introducing yourself.

He shook it and you felt that feeling in your stomach again but decided to ignore it, “Eddie.”

"Okay Eddie, are you good at giving an unbiased opinion on a mural done in an alley while standing on garbage bins?" You asked and without even waiting for an answer you started pushing him towards the dragon on the wall.

Usually you didn't need random strangers' opinions on your street art but this time you felt like you wanted to spend more time with that metal singer looking guy with the sweetest eyes you'd ever seen. And also, he wasn't a stranger anymore, he was Eddie.

“Oh sure, I was born for that.” He stated confidently.

Your laughter echoed down the alley as you reached the mural.

"There we go. Now you are an accessory to the crime."

"Well, in reality.... I didn't do anything. I'm just an innocent witness."

"You have paint on your hands."

"I don't-" He looked at his palms and realized you had stained one of his hands with green paint when you held it. "Oh, fuck you."

You laughed. "So? What do you think?"

“I think it's worthy of being on the cover of a metal album, it's amazing, really.”

"Well, thanks. For now it will stay on the wall of a dark alley."

"Really, that's so fucking cool. You should do this as a job or something like that."

"Well, I'm still in high school and I'm looking for someone who needs a babysitter to earn some money so... not yet, I guess."

"Well then I guess we'll meet there."

“Are you still in high school?”

Eddie sighed, as if expecting a joke on that.

"Hey, we don't judge people here. What do you expect from a girl who's spending her Sunday afternoon with a stranger chatting in front of some garbage cans?"

"I expect her to be cool as hell. And well-" He paused, as if thinking about it carefully, "I think she is."

You couldn't help but laugh again.

When you got home you still had a stupid smile on your face. You liked Eddie, you liked the way he made you feel like you didn't have to pretend to be someone else around him, you liked the way he called you "pretty" five more times that afternoon, you liked the way his eyes lit up when he talked about music, you liked the way he kindly asked you if he could walk you home since the sky was getting dark and he didn't want anything bad to happen to you, you liked the sound of his laughter and the way he tried to hide the blush on his cheeks when you told him that your opinion on Hawkings had become better after you met him.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Your aunt asked you when you entered the house.

"I met a boy."

She smirked.

"Don't look at me with that face, I just met him. He was just being nice."

"Mh-mh sure." She laughed as you rolled your eyes and walked into your room, leaving your bag on the bed.

When you unzipped it, something inside caught your attention: a small, brown leather-covered notebook you'd never seen before.

Your first thought was how the hell did he end up in there, then you remembered your clash with Eddie a few hours earlier. Was it possible that you had taken it without realizing it?

You got under the covers with the notebook in your hands. It was small but the pages were so many and so thin that someone could have started writing in it years before and still not filled it all.

You knew you shouldn't have done it, it might have contained private things, but you couldn't resist.

You opened it.

As soon as you did, a black and white photo of a girl with dark hair and a sun dress fell off the first page.

She was smiling and she was really pretty, you wondered who she could be. In the background you could see a garden and the sun shining in the sky.

It was wrinkled as if someone had held it in their hands for a long time.

Then, you read the first lines of the first page of the notebook. The writing was messy but legible, some words had been crossed out and rewritten probably due to some grammatical error or unclear thoughts.

"I realized that I almost don't remember her anymore and that's the thing that scares me the most. I don't want to forget her."

You couldn't help but wonder how you could feel the pain in those words simply by reading them in an old, crumpled notebook.

Tags: @jacklesbrainworms @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon @flawiette @needylilgal022 @bubsonnobx @yujyujj @findmeincorneliastreet @kennedy-brooke @witchwolflea

[selfmythologize]

hey y'all! this is denver [sh/th, cst, also the mun of do jihan & noh saetbyeol] with remedy's lead dancer + vocal + maknae, seo daon. you can find his career info here, his stats here, a pinterest board for him here & everything you need to know about him under the cut!

i.

tw for some intermittent mentions of bipolar disorder. no particularly heavy/detailed material.

born november 18, 1998 as the first (and only) child to an accountant (father) & a freelance translator (mother). upper-middle class.

his parents were not in love, nor were they even close to being happy. for some reason, they thought having a baby might fix that... uh, spoiler, it didn't! however, they both liked daon *okay* and overall wanted to give him a decent life, so they tried and tried and tried to make it work and kept failing.

tl;dr on his parents is that his mother struggles with (unmedicated) bipolar disorder and his father comes from a family that doesn't exactly *believe* in mental illness. he tried to be better, but ultimately views it like this: if his wife loves him and loves her son, she'll overcome whatever she's going through without having to take pills. so she doesn't take pills, and she won't overcome it because uh... it's a real thing. they both resent each other for reasons that are probably obvious to the reader, but by the time they realized this they were already married and neither of their families exactly *believe* in divorce.

so daon was exposed to all of their problems in his childhood and kind of believed that he was the reason they weren't happy. they realized their problems were affecting him and decided to just keep him out of the house more so that he wouldn't be exposed to it as much, he thought this was them trying to get more time away from him, so it goes...

anyway. they had plenty of money to spend, so they spent it on him and trying to find something for him to do. after a period of trying things out, this ended up being mostly dance classes. neither parent was particularly interested in hearing about it or seeing it, but they were happy that *he* seemed happy. and when he got into a performing arts high school, they were glad to sign all necessary paperwork and pay the tuition. anything for daon.

ended up only completing his first year of high school because he was scouted by kevin yoon at a year-end performance. hadn't considered being an idol before, but was drawn to the idea and, again, his parents were cool with whatever would make him happy (and get him away from them). finished out the academic year and then dropped out to focus 100% on training. during this period, he pretty much severed all ties with his parents. not that he was really trying to—it's just that he didn't reach out, and they didn't either, and things have been pretty distant between them ever since. also during this period, he started to struggle with his mental health & was diagnosed with bipolar disorder (go figure!) and kind of put two and two together that with it possibly being genetic, and his mom's erratic behavior, she probably has it too. tried to have that conversation with her, she wouldn't. regardless, having her as an example scared him into being medicated, so he’s mostly stable nowadays.

remedy debuted and they flopped. which was a shocker for daon & kind of pissed him off because wdym he dropped out of school for this? … anyways patience pays off. they eventually clawed their way up, and with their rise in popularity came daon’s rise in popularity. he had a bunch of people calling him their bias, calling him a happy virus, talking about how appealing his personality is—at the time, it just felt nice. didn’t really see the thing that was beginning to set itself up.

went through his first depressive episode as a public figure a little bit after remedy *really* started to get attention. it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been considering he is medicated but his energy was significantly lower, he was hardly talking, seemed disinterested, etc etc and his fans started to turn their backs on him a little. was hit with the “where’s the daon we fell in love with?” shit versus keyboard warriors talking about how nice it was for the “annoying one” to finally shut up. and at this point he realized a lot of his fans didn’t like him as a person but as a concept. all of a sudden, all of the nice shit they had to say about him didn’t feel as good anymore.

still, he had learned what the people wanted from him, and he wanted them to keep loving him, so he’s been on that shit ever since! has starred on multiple variety shows (great escape, mari and me, amazing saturday) and is widely known for his “stupid optimism” and slapstick humor.

had his solo debut in july 2024. most of his solo stans didn’t give much of a shit about it because it didn’t exactly fit the narrative they’d built for him, and consequently he’s never talked about it much following promotions. has also never talked much about the producing, writing or choreographing he’s done because that stuff doesn’t really matter either. what matters is the aforementioned stupid optimism and slapstick humor. life’s great. :)

ii.

publicly, seo daon is hardly more than a court jester. is the “happy virus”/“mood maker” of remedy. didn’t exactly vie for the spot, but it fell into his lap due to his tendency to turn most things into a joke & his knack for breaking the ice/making quick recoveries from tense or awkward moments. he’s a very kind & considerate person who wants to keep everyone around him happy. in seo daon’s world, other people *always* come first. though he is super playful, he knows when he needs to be serious & is happy to act as a pillar of support and voice of reason if that’s what’s needed. has a very strong solo fanbase because of his approachable and “comforting” personality. is known to remember fans who frequent fansigns/fancalls and admittedly enables them to have parasocial relationships with him a little *too* much.

is really intelligent, but for whatever reason there’s been a widespread belief pretty much throughout his entire career thus far that he’s some idiot—probably because it’s public info that he didn’t finish high school 😔 reads a lot, loves learning new things, etc etc but publicly leans into the “sweet idiot” thing because that’s what the fans evidently want. and also how they’ll see him regardless. used to talk about his niche areas of interest a lot but has since stopped because everything he said was met with doubt, like he was just talking out his ass 😔 doesn’t fight the rumors anymore 😔

^^^ admittedly, he uh… does talk out his ass a lot. to him, his jokes are always obvious—to others, not so much. if he’s asked a question in an interview that he doesn’t have an interesting answer to, he’ll just make some shit up and act like it’s fact. again, thinks everyone just *knows* these filler answers aren’t actually true, so there are a lot of stories floating around about him that fans like to debate the authenticity of. also likes to commit to “long bits”, such as when post malone went country. he started talking all kinds of shit about how post introduced him to the wonders of country music, would go live and have country music playing in the bg, started going out of his way to speak english and would speak it with a well-practiced twang in his voice, would call the paps on himself just to be seen in his cowboy fits, etc etc and then dropped the shtick all at once. no one knows why he does things like this. he doesn’t know why he does things like this. so… it kind of makes sense why people never know if he’s doing a bit or not 😞

is sort of… difficult… to reach. has these high walls built up around him that *most* people probably don’t realize because he doesn’t seem cold or distant. there’s also this idea about him that he’s down to earth and unfiltered, which just… isn’t true. he makes it his purpose to provide for/at the very least entertain others so so he won’t say/share anything that doesn’t fit into that purpose. ends up feeling isolated and like he doesn’t truly have anyone despite having an abundance of surface-level friends and acquaintances, and also feels like if he tries to become closer to people & be more honest they’ll slip away from him. thinks everything is conditional and he’s one step away from being left.

^^^ and due to this, can be particularly clingy towards people he feels the closest to… or even people he thinks are beginning to slip away. has probably sabotaged a number of connections by smothering. he’s the “are you mad at me?” 10x a day friend.

overall, he’s fun to be around!!! he’ll always have your back and he’s down for an adventure (or a bit) anytime!!! loves to live life in a fast-paced way and loves to spend his time with people. will avoid being alone at all costs.

iii.

open to any and all plots, but here are some ideas to kick things off:

a close friend—probably daon’s best friend. the only person who knows pretty much all there is to know about him and has stuck around despite (or because of) it all. found family. problem is, daon doesn’t exactly *like* that they know him so well. is somewhat uncomfortable with the complete vulnerability he has with them, and has a tendency to temporarily replace them with new people he meets. nonetheless, he always comes back to them and they’re always waiting with open arms.

^^^ any of the new friendships who had a temporary run as daon’s best friend and then were kind of put on the backburner. people who thought they meant more to him than they evidently do now. friendships he’s failing to nurture.

obviously, any remedy plots: a member who has been into producing since pre-debut and got daon into as well??? probably someone he looks up to artistically 😔 / where’s the member he’s jealous of ‘cause he actually receives an abundance of praise for his talent… prbly went through a rocky period earlier on where it was a little more obvious daon didn’t exactly *like* him but i’d imagine they’re on better terms now / former dorm roommate who he snuck out with all the time. was his best friend within remedy then and probably still is now / etc etc

younger/newer idols who admire him! artists who see him for the art that he’s created and not the shit he does on variety shows!

perhaps a current partner where the relationship has sort of run its course, but daon isn’t exactly ready to let go. he’s never been one to rip the bandaid, anyway… aka, he’s kind of baiting them into breaking up with him so he doesn’t have to be the bad guy.

^^^ and the person he’s already sort of gravitating to to distract himself from his impending break up. they’re probably already under the assumption that he’s single—will it be a dealbreaker when they realize the timeline inconsistencies? 😔

any old friendships that suffered due to daon’s refusal to be completely honest/vulnerable with people, potentially amidst other reasons as well. if he calls, will they still pick up? 😔

[varianandhugodonotgetrawed]

I did a thing

Thanks to @shelobussy for giving me the idea for this little one shot! You didn't think I was serious, did you? But I was, oh, I was.

Desc: Hugo and Varian run into a problem while helping at VBS (vacation Bible school for those unfamiliar. It's literally summer camp but Christian). Warning for minor cursing, past homophobia.

___________________________________

"And... it's locked." Hugo sighed and slid down the door of the closet. "Who designed this thing? Why would a door auto-lock when you close it?"

"Why wouldn't it?" Varian had already sat down. "If you hadn't dropped the key we would be out of here."

"You're always blaming me for stuff. This isn't even the right closet! This is the damn communion supply closet, and I told you the cleaning supplies were down the hall, but no, Heaven forbid I be right."

"I got turned around! Half the hallways out of the sanctuary look the same anyway." At least they wouldn't starve, though Varian might rather starve than subsist on grape juice and crackers that looked and tasted like Styrofoam. And would it be heretical to eat and drink communion elements outside of the ceremony? Surely God would understand, like that story with David and the sacred bread.

"Uh, earth to Freckles," Hugo's annoying voice cut through Varian's thoughts. "How are we gonna get out of here? The VBS has, like, four chaperones for the middle schoolers including us, we need to get out."

"Can't you pick locks, Beanpole?" Varian had never seen Hugo lockpick, but he looked like the type to know how.

With his long undercut blond hair, piercings, alternative clothing style, and flamboyantly gay demeanor, Hugo wasn't really the sort of person Varian would expect to be a youth group leader, but West Ingvarr Methodist Church prided itself on diversity and inclusion. Varian couldn't help but think, though, that even if it wasn't a sin, Hugo didn't need to make being queer his whole personality. Varian certainly managed not to.

"I can't pick this kind of lock. I don't know the inside mechanisms of the automatic doors. And I'll thank you not to use that tone when asking. I don't why you think you're better than me-"

"I don't think I'm better than you-" Varian began.

Hugo snorted. "Could've fooled me. Anyways, I could maybe figure out how to disassemble the lock, but I don't think Pastor Robin would be very happy with me."

"So we're stuck here," Varian groaned.

"Until someone comes along and sees the key on the ground, yes. Don't look at me like that, Freckles, I'm not pleased about it either. You're stuck in a closet with someone you hate, I'm stuck with someone who hates me."

"I don't hate you. You're annoying as- as heck, and loud, and honestly I don't think you should curse around the kids-"

"They're middle and high schoolers, they've heard the word 'shit' before. Besides, I know what it is. You don't like the way I dress, the way I talk, you don't like when I talk about my homosexuality-" Hugo said the last word like he was an old man deeply offended by it.

Varian rolled his eyes. "That's not it. If it makes you feel better, I'm literally bisexual. I just don't think you need to talk about it as much as you do-"

"Freckles, what would your life be like if you had had an openly queer leader in the church when you were those kid's age? Because I'll tell you right now, mine would have been a hell of a lot better. You can keep your internalized homophobia to yourself, but I'm going to be who I am. And I'm going to be for those kids what I needed." Hugo finished and turned his head away, arms crossed.

Varian couldn't think of a thing to say. He tried not to think about it much, now that he was out of Old Corona, and two years into college, but he remembered growing up in a church very different from West Ingvarr. Forget it being unsafe to be queer, Varian had dyed a streak of his hair blue when he was fourteen and been looked at like he was the devil's child into he finally broke and dyed it black again. Eventually, fifteen-year-old Varian had decided he couldn't take it anymore, and ran away. It'd quickly gone wrong, and he'd fallen in with a very bad crowd before his father found him, and promised they would move away after Varian tearfully confessed the reason for his rebellion.

All that to say, Hugo was right. Varian cringed thinking it. But Varian had been unfair in his judgment of him, and it was the right thing to do to admit that.

"I'm... sorry." Varian finally said. Hugo didn't turn his head, but his eyes flicked over and his eyebrows rose slightly. "I think... I let my biases color how I judged you, and that was... unfair and not very 'Good Christian' of me. I... really don't hate you, Hugo."

Hugo turned his head, and Varian could see him holding back a smile. "Thanks for the self-awareness. I forgive you, I guess."

Varian scoffed. "Thanks, 'I guess'."

"Well," Hugo began, obnoxious grin on his face, before pausing. "I think I hear footsteps! HEY? IS ANYONE THERE?" He yelled, forcing Varian to cover his ears.

"Yes, ominous voice? Wait. Hugo, is that you?"

"Yep!" He replied. "Varian, we're in luck! Okay, Yong, there's a key on the ground. I need you to slide it under the door, alright?"

"I don't see a- oh! There you go!" A second later, the bronze key appeared by the door. Varian and Hugo stood up, and unlocked the door.

"Feels good to be free!" Hugo declared, stretching.

"We were only in there for twenty minutes," Varian commented, grinning.

"Yeah, but twenty minutes stuck with you? Basically twenty years."

"Shut up, Beanpole," Varian pretended to punch Hugo's arm. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

[ron456]

ADHD/ Neurodiversity rant, Ig?? (TLDR at the end)

I feel like I've definitely went through some character development over the years but especially when I learned more about my ADHD.

They don't really give you that much info when you get diagnosed, I feel (I got diagnosed pretty young at like 7-8 and started taking meds when I was about 9 years old, I think).

And I started learning more about it in, like, middle school and it was wild to figure out that I wasn't alone in these experiences I was having like RSD (AND THE RSD CHEST PAIN- I WAS LIKE "OTHER PEOPLE WITH ADHD FEEL THIS TOO?!?"), Sensory issues (I get pissed if I get overstimulated and it was a relief to find out that other people feel like that too), skipping lines when I read and getting headaches while reading even though I wasn't dyslexic (Convergence insufficiency), being uncoordinated (my handwriting always going upwards instead of in a straight line, having trouble with using keys, or getting food all over myself when I ate) , problems with emotional regulation, etc.

Shout out to people on tiktok/youtube who have info on ADHD like: Connor DeWolfe, Ethan Nestor & Markiplier (not really their main content but they both do have it and occasionally talk about it. Ethan has the hyperactive type and Mark has the inattentive type), Olivia Lutfallah (her ADHD simulators are SO ACCURATE- And she has AuDHD so she has some stuff about autism too, I believe)

I remember I felt sorta daunted at first to realize I was way different than my peers than I first thought

and I had that sorta grieving process that people get when they get diagnosed later in life even though I had already been diagnosed

Like, "Damn. If only my past-self had known that. Maybe I could've shielded her from getting hurt."

But also, knowing more helped me move forward with more of a plan, I guess

Can't accommodate to yourself if you don't know what to accommodate to, right?

Anyways, I'm saying this because I think it's so important that people be taught more about Neurodiversities

Kids, parents, teachers, etc. should all be more informed because it saves a lot of confusion and pain for people in the long-run

Cuz a kid won't know that they have a different brain because that's all they've ever known. Sorta reminds me of the quote:

“Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”

But yeah, if it hadn't been for my second grade teacher who noticed that I was coming home with classwork and who didn't think I was just being lazy, I don't know if I would be here, today, to be honest.

All it takes is one person to notice the signs of neurodiversity and speak up to change someone's life for the better

which is why I always try to educate my friends on this kinds of things so that they can be more helpful and understand of people with neurodiversites and of themselves if they realize they have a neurodiversity

Also, I write about this because I used to find characters like Mable Pines and Steven Universe annoying until I realized they exhibited ADHD symptoms and there was probablyyy some internalized ableism in my mind as a kid. I was able to watch the shows with these characters in them as a teenager and realize how much they characters were like me! And I loved them for it! It's really cool to see how much my knowledge and acceptance for my ADHD has grown as I've grown!

Anywayssss, that is all. I'm on my meds rn and I had some motivation so decided to talk about this hehe. I gotta get ready for some babysitting rn lmao.

TLDR; People should be educated more on the signs of Neurodiversities so that people can get the help they need sooner instead of thinking they are "Wrong", "stupid", or "broken". I bolded some cool resources for more ADHD (and some other Neurodiversity) info and a cool quote :)

[theleechking]

ALT TEXT IS INCLUDED FOR VISUALLY IMPARED FEAT A SHORT DESCRIPTION ABOUT THE PAGE AND THE FULL POEM!

Becoming Less Opaque by TheLeechKing

(Leech)

Read under the more to learn a bit about this poem and what it means to me.

This poem is about my experience my senior year of high school and how different it eas from my past years of shcooling. In the past, through primary, elementary, and even middle school, i was an infamous student. I was an undiagnosed Auadhd kid who was very obviously different from the other kids and the typical weird kid. I was bossy and a trouble maker with strong morals and an attitude that could knock anyone off their feet. I was smart but couldn't figure out how to apply myself, and i was stubborn as hell. I pretended i was a cat for my first 11 years of schooling. (I've been in school since i was 3 ao about until 7th or 8th grade i did this.) i struggled with bullying and ostracization for obvious reasons. I struggled with understanding how this world worked, and frankly, i still do. Anyway, in high school. I started to realize that my quote opacity, the things that made me who I was when I was younger, was disappearing. I'm no longer that rambunctious kid wearing his big heart on his sleeve crazy person that I was. I started to realize that my colors were fading, and my bright attitude was gone that bubbly and happy personality that I had was missing. I know it was a process that had been happening for a very long time. I just didn't realize how far it had gone and how much of myself I had lost. I've now since realized, I likely will neverget that part of me back that opacity set. I once had is gone, and there is no way I can get back to that strength. the reason i was that way is because i was a kid. i hadn't been force-fed the harsh realities of the world. Since i have, I've gone more quiet. During my senior year, i had lost a lot of friends. Sure, i had gained some, but i knew i would leave them soon, so i never got attatched. I felt so alone so invisible that i had never felt that before it hurt a lot. And so i wrote about it. And that's where this poem comes in. It's just a bit of how i felt

[transitofmercury]

Pulitzer Family Fact Post (Katherine's Siblings Edition)

I'm finally doing it, after threeish years, I'm finally making posts about my acquired knowledge of the Pulitzer family. I'm starting with what I know about his kids because I think that's what people would find most interesting. I'd quite like to go on about Pulitzer's siblings and what people have managed to figure out about his childhood but I'll do that another day. It's been a while so I might forget stuff or get things slightly wrong but I'm doing my best to be accurate. Information is mostly from James McGrath Morris' book, 'Pulitzer: A life in Politics, Print and Power' and records I looked at on Ancestry (I got really weird about this).

Pulitzer and his wife, Kate Davis, had 7 children: Ralph, Lucille, Katherine, Joseph, Edith, Constance and Herbert. I'm just going to go through kid-by-kid and reel off everything I remember that is actually semi-interesting.

Ralph Pulitzer: Born June 11th, 1879. Died June 14th, 1939. He was born in St. Louis because Pulitzer hadn't bought The New York World and moved the family to New York at this point.

All the kids seem to have been sickly (like their father) but Ralph was asthmatic and small for his age, his health was always a concern. The family would spend a lot of time in Europe but he and Lucille were the ones who usually joined their parents while the younger ones were left in America. He didn't like learning Latin (From a letter to Lucille: "I never imagined a language capable of such filthy, beastly rules and contradictions") and preferred Greek. He was educated at St. Mark's School and would've been at Harvard by the time that Newsies happened.

All the sons were a bit detached from the realities of how newspapers worked because they were raised in mansions and boarding schools but Pulitzer was surprised and very upset about them having limited journalistic skills. He really wanted them to be prepared to run the paper after him and they really weren't. He started to become president of The World around 1907. When Pulitzer died, he got 20% of the newspaper stock in the will. He was the main person running The World before they sold it in 1931. Ralph preferred high society life to newspapers. He married Frederica Webb who was vaguely a Vanderbilt in 1905. They had two sons, I think, and eventually divorced. He remarried and had two daughters but one died very young. He died in New York following complications to do with abdominal surgery.

Lucille Irma Pulitzer: Born September 30th, 1880. Died December 31st, 1897. She was probably also born in St. Louis but I haven't been able to find the record. Her middle name seems to come from one of Pulitzer's sisters.

She was Pulitzer's favourite, that's the key thing about her. He had very high expectations of his children and a lot of rules, and she managed to meet those expectations and didn't break those rules. She was focused on her studies, she could speak multiple languages and play multiple instruments. In Pulitzer's code-book, she's referred to as 'Lulu' instead of Lucille. Seems to have spent a lot of her younger years in Europe. When she was 14 she had a minor throat surgery and Pulitzer got upset that everyone was paying her more attention than they were him (his wife got really mad at him and he sent Lucille flowers to apologise).

I think I read about her graduating from Miss Brown's School for Young Ladies in May 1897 when she would've been 16. Summer of that year they held a party at the Chatwold (their place in Bar Harbour) to basically debut her. A couple days later, she became ill. She had Typhoid and despite the family's efforts, she died months later at the Chatwold on New Years Eve. After her death, Pulitzer established the Lucille Pulitzer Scholarship at Barnard College, which makes me think she wanted to go to college and that he would have supported this.

Katherine Ethel Pulitzer: Born January 30th, 1882. Died May 9th, 1884. Same as Lucille, probably born in St. Louis but I've never seen the records. She's the one daughter whose middle name I can't link to one of Pulitzer's family members but her first name comes from her mother. There's not much to say because she died so young. She died of Pneumonia in New York almost a year exactly (one day off) after Pulitzer purchased The World.

This is quite sad (it's already sad) but she is either omitted or forgotten in the 1900 census. They asked for the number of children born and the number of children living, at this point all 7 had been born and 5 were alive but the Pulitzers responded that 6 had been born instead. They weren't forgetting Lucille after three years, so it seems like Katherine was not counted.

Joseph Pulitzer II: Born March 21st, 1885. Died March 30th, 1955. One of the few children born in New York.

Less sickly than the others but Pulitzer was constantly disappointed by him. He was also sent to St. Mark's School. As a teenager he didn't do what his father told him to and didn't pay enough attention to his studies. He got thrown out of St. Mark's in 1901 after he and some friends snuck out to buy beer and then ended up climbing into the headmaster and his wife's bedroom when they were sneaking back in. Pulitzer was really angry about that. Pulitzer managed to get him into Harvard but he just kept being the same as he was before so Pulitzer pulled him out of Harvard.

He got sent to St. Louis to be trained by the people Pulitzer had at the Post-Dispatch and actually developed journalistic talent. His father could not see this talent and was still disappointed in him. He only got 10% of the newspaper stock when his dad died. He ran the Post-Dispatch far better than his brothers ran The World. He tried to punch Hearst which is just really funny to me. He married Elinor Wickham in 1910, she died in 1925 and a year later he married Elizabeth Edgar. He had similar health problems to his father towards the end of his life and after he died, the Post-Dispatch passed to his son, Joseph Pulitzer III, it stayed in the family's hands until very recently (either the 90s or the 00s) but there was a legal battle about whether to sell it in the 80s.

Edith Louise Pulitzer: Born June 19th, 1886. Died April 6th, 1975. She was born in Lenox, Massachusetts. Her middle name seems to come from Pulitzer's mother.

Pulitzer was not that interested in his younger daughters but he still had high expectations for them. When she was younger and her parents travelled to Europe, she seems to have been left in America more than her older siblings but later on she seems to have been just following her mother around to wherever she went. She was 13 when the Pulitzer house fire happened in January 1900. Morris mentions an incident where she got upset at her father for constantly criticising her and the two of them had a bit of an argument. She was sent to Miss Vinton’s School for Girls in Connecticut.

She married William Scoville Moore a couple weeks after her father died, I think I read that they had to have a pretty boring, scaled back wedding because, officially, she and her mother were still in mourning. They had five sons. William died in 1944 and then two of their sons died in 1944 and 1945 fighting in the war. Another son died in 1957. She lived the longest out of all of the children, and 1975 feels so strangely recent for a child of Joseph Pulitzer to have been alive then. She and Constance both got the same amount in the will and it was obviously a lot of stuff but I think she might've tried to claim that it wasn't enough and that her father wasn't in his right mind when he made the will.

Constance Helen Pulitzer: Born December 13th, 1888. Died July 14th, 1938. She was born in France, probably Paris, because the family (Joseph, his wife and the eldest two children) were in Europe looking for advice on his worsening health when she was born. According to census responses from the early 20th century, her first language was French while all her siblings' had been English. Her middle name seems to come from another one of Pulitzer's sisters.

Pulitzer did not see her for very extended periods of time in her early childhood. She was also at home when the Pulitzer house fire happened, she was 11 at the time. Once, when Pulitzer was away from home, he only received a letter from Constance and told his wife to tell the other children he didn't love them (that's a quote, "To all the rest of the children you can say I do not love them"). She also followed her mother around Europe a bit when she got older. She debuted in 1907.

In 1913 she married William Grey Elmslie who had been her younger brother's tutor. The family expressed their support for the marriage but I think only Edith was actually present. Oh, this is Newsies relevant: she and Edith shared a property in Santa Fe. She died at 49 which is young even by Pulitzer family standards and makes her the first child to die in adulthood but I can't find a cause of death so I don't know what went on there.

Herbert Pulitzer: Born November 20th, 1896. Died September 4th, 1957. He was born in New York. I see him get called Tony a lot, he might've had a middle name that gets forgotten.

This is a twist you're not expecting: he may have not actually been Pulitzer's son. There's (significant) evidence that Kate was having an affair with Arthur Brisbane when she got pregnant with Herbert and it's definitely possible that Arthur was Herbert's father. He was born a long time after Constance considering that the first 6 children were born within 10 years of each other. And if you look at pictures of Pulitzer and his older sons at around the same age, they look very similar - I don't think Herbert looked that much like him but he does kinda look like Arthur. We can't really know but I do think it's very, very possible. Pulitzer never doubted that Herbert was his, and he seems to have been the favourite of his sons since he got 60% of the newspaper stock. He briefly ran The World in the years before it was sold but apparently people who worked there didn't like him. He was very young when the Pulitzer house fire happened and Kate had to go back inside to save him.

I'm less certain about details in Herbert's life than the other children, I'm not sure why I know less about him but I do. He was the only child at his father's deathbed, when he was only a teenager. He learnt to fly and fought at the end of WW1. Married Gladys Munn in 1926 and they had two children together. Their son, also called Herbert, led a messy life (highly publicised divorce). Herbert died of uremic poisoning, which is described "urine in the blood" and, yeah, that's the note this post is going out on.

Again, it's possible I've made mistakes or forgotten stuff here. I also can't stress enough how much information James McGrath Morris' book has provided this post.

[dojae-huh]

SM Rookies: old pics

SM Rookies launching site is no more, but the official twitter account is still alive.

There is a blog on tumblr dedicated to SM Rookies, so you can scroll the archives. As of right now, the first page is this one.

You can also find hundreds of old pictures easily on Pinterest.

Fetus Jeno with Super Junior senior Donghae. Grown up Jeno with the same hyung featuring in his solo.

SM always advertised younger artists with the help of the older artists. In a few years it becomes reversed, and older artists benefit from the success of younger idols. For example, artists like Kangta can't gather huge concerts on their own, but can participate in SM Towns. Artists like BoA be a part of a super group with younger gens. And oftentimes the friendships, hyung-dongsaeng relationships are genuine. We now can witness neos becoming sunbaes themselves. Like neos with Riize or with NCT Wish members.

Jaehyun's SM Rookie announcement photo.

And the first bts picture.

2. Advertisement of the artists through give-away small gifts. Here: candies with Rookie face stickers. Securing first fans with personally distributing food is also an old tradition in SM.

3. I don't understand the manner of official introduction. Members like Donghyuk and Taeil already participated in SM Rookies activities in 2013 way before being announced publicly. For example, all Rookies wrote messages for fans for SMTown Week exhibition in 131221.

Translation for Jae's message.

4. This is how Doyoung's future son and younger brother looked like when he joined SM. One of the first performances.

The nemesis

5. Yong Ju was a vocal (he is a solo artist now). How would it turned out if he hadn't left, I wonder?

This is the list of trainees who were known as Rookies by the end of 2013, who performed on SMTown Week, wrote messages: (Donghyuck), Taeyong, (Yongju), Yuta, Jaehyun, Johnny, Jeno, Hansol, Jisung, Ten, (Taeil), Mark. Promotional photogrpaphs of the officially introduced trainees also were posted on Twitter and different news platforms. Fans dug up pre-debut info on Ten, Taeil and others right away.

6. Before Jaehyun started earning money and switched to Calvin Klein for good

7. Tae and JN's interview in 2014. Taeyong said his goal was to make a solo album even if it takes him 10 years. Welp, it took exactly that number of years, haha.

8. Only Johnny came to Taeyong's graduation ceremony. Doyoung was already a trainee. Either he wasn't yet close enough to Tae or couldn't attend because he wasn't introduced as a rookie.

7. Taeyong coming to work in 2014. Even trainees gather fans who wait for them before SM buildings.

8. Taeyong and his cute dongsaeng Jaehyun. I wasn't right when I said the first divide was at SM Rookies show. No, the first divide was between the 2013-2014 introduced rookies and the rest. They became public figures a year or two earlier, participated in Exo tv-show and in SMTowns. I keep reminding newer shippers that TaeJae were first. Fans have a special place in their hearts for the 95-line.

9. Yuta's audition in Japan (not for SM).

10. Highschooler Jaehyun and his big backpack.

11. No, but really, what happened with Hansol. SM was serious about him, he even featured in an MV.

12. Tae fancam from SMTown in 2014

13. Ah, yeah. In addition to dance covers with other Rookies Jaehyun sang back then with D.O. and others. Flatass.

14. This video shows well that Taeyong was ready before other neos. Maybe it was his face, maybe his determination to please and meet expectations. Look at the facial expressions of neos, only Tae looked like not a complete rookie, he had the stage presence. It's not a surprise SM chose him as the centre of the future group.

15. Taeyong in Lay's MV. If my memory serves me right, Tae, Woo, Yuta, JN, Jae and Lucas featured in different MVs of SM artists before their debut.

16. 17 year old Jaehyun with the face he got in middle school, lol.

17. Guess who.

Pinkbloods

[kohakhearts]

shigegou for the ship game! convert me!

CRACKS KNUCKLES. MY TIME HAS COME

shigegou: ship it!

(side note: i still think i've gotta get serious about using splitdecisionshipping for them until it sticks, lmao)

what made you ship it?

actually this is one of those cases of i shipped them by proxy for ot3 purposes. i liked their dynamic but when i watched jn initially i hadn't yet done my os rewatch and i was actually pretty normal about gary oak (as a kid he wasn't really a big fave or anything and i hadn't actively watched anything but the pokemon movies since middle school so). they definitely gave that same vibe as os pallet though like the "i have a crush on you i can't deal with" so i think i liked that dynamic :p

what are your favourite things about the ship?

ok so now fast forward to the great anipoke rewatch/watch (since i'd never seen the later gens before) of 2023. i got really unwell about gary. DJFGHJFKDDFHJDK but i'd been unwell about goh from when i watched jn the year before so it was...not difficult to begin drawing parallels. i think a lot of people point out how similar the shigegou dynamic is to the early shigesato dynamic and like. that's true and valid! but as individual characters, gary and goh have so much in common. gary's whole schtick is that he travels alone. he doesn't wait around for ash to catch up to him, necessarily. he has his own ideas of what he should be doing and how he should be doing it and mr "i've already got ten badges" here sure as hell isn't a slacker when it comes to proving how Awesome and Capable he is. we never, not once, see gary working as a team with anyone until pokemon chronicles (power play is something else to me. to be clear). by his own admission in jn, he wasn't much of a team player and that's a big part of why he pushed goh so hard about teamwork and collaboration (ok. he doesn't say this so much as goh kinda figures it out and gary doesn't actively deny it. but we the viewers who have known gary oak since 1997 know enough to say yeah he kinda sucked and put people down for his own sake, this tracks). they're both very goal-oriented but in a different way than ash is. i think where ash sees other people are like, a source of insight and inspiration, gary and goh both tend to see them as obstacles (ironically, ash is the first person they each didn't see this way)

also, they both have an interest in like. catching and researching pokemon. gary obviously likes battling too, but in i think showdown at the poke-corral, oak says that gary has caught over 200 pokemon. but he also cares deeply about them all (in jp he often calls his mons some variation of "partner," "honey," "sweetie" and we see him rotate his pokemon a lot - he doesn't have just one team, he switches them out a lot!). goh has a bit of a different approach, yes, but fundamentally i think the interest comes from the same place. and there is no doubt that they both care about their pokemon.

so like. i think those qualities are probably things gary sees, but even more than that, i think he sees a lot of his own worst qualities in goh: arrogant, self-absorbed, putting himself in a position where he is so afraid of people letting him down (though in gary's case, i think this is actually more being of afraid of letting other people down than the reverse) that he doesn't even try to do things that would make him happy or necessarily improve his capabilities as a trainer/research/person in general. but more to the afraid of letting people down point...i think it seems likely that initially gary sees goh as overcompensating for a fear of failure, like he does. but that's not exacty the case with goh, and through more work together it would become a lot more apparent that his issue is actually that he doesn't trust anyone but himself (and ash, by the time they meet - but even then, there are a lot of moments that suggest that trust is tenuous at the best of times). and i think gary would see that as a challenge, too. so idk i'm rambling here but there are just a lot of directions i think you could take with them that are super interesting. gary's position as being, like, an aleady fully-developed character who had to have his big moments of upset, etc. by the time he meets goh make it interesting. lots of opportunity to delve into their parallels and approach them as two people who actually fundamentally make each other better - goh by encouraging gary's own self-awareness and empathy, and gary by pointing out all the flaws in goh's logic because he used to think the same way.

is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

it's like me and 4 other people brain rotting (actually went into the tag the other day out of curiosity and discovered that even though they have over 50 fics on ao3, only 4 aren't a polyamorous or side ship kind of deal so. Yeah) so i don't think there are even any unpopular opinions to be had except maybe that it's a good dynamic and they deserve more love </3

send me a ship!

[not-that-dillinger]

AU to Ed's 2.0 AU

Or: The AU where Ed agrees to spy on Encom for his father and Dillinger Sr. takes advantage of Ed's old bad habit to keep him in line.

/* well, fairly sure nobody here is surprised that Elf loves angst and putting Ed in the worst possible situations, and... well. May have been... inspired by a recent meme post. So. Have the AU of where Ed gets kidnapped shortly after starting at Encom, but makes a different decision than in the 2.0 AU. */

Ed woke up--he didn't remember falling asleep--in a white room, surrounded by humming, blurry machinery, and the smell of cleaning chemicals burning his nostrils, with no memory of how he got there.

He'd been... he'd gone out to the bar with the rest of his coworkers--no. He'd left the bar to find somewhere to eat, too overwhelmed by the noise and upset as it had become apparent the rest of his coworkers hadn't really wanted him there.

No. He'd left the restaurant, because it became obvious someone was following him. He'd gone back--

"He's awake, sir."

Ed recognized that voice. Peter. His father's assistant, who'd been in charge of... doing all the necessary child rearing his father didn't have time for.

"Pee'r, i'me 'lassssses," Ed slurred, unable to get his mouth to fully cooperate. He hated Peter McQueen. Hated that he kept taking away his glasses as a means to control Ed.

"You'll have them back, when you earn them."

Father. That was bad. Very bad. If his father wanted to keep him locked away, here was no hope of rescue if Ed couldn't escape on his own. He would hardly be missed at work, except for the small effort it would take to replace a low-level programmer. He doubted anyone would even think to file a missing person report at the police.

Ed jerked upright, panicked, and caught a glimpse of a blurry figure he's recognize anywhere.

Or, Ed attempted to sit up, only to realize he was tied down to the table he was laying on.

"No, no, it's okay, stay down," Peter murmured, running a hand gently---in mock tenderness of what a parent might do to soothe a frightened child--through Ed's hair. He pushed on Ed's forehead, and Ed gave in with little resistance.

"Hello, Junior," Ed's father said.

Ed glared up at his father, but otherwise remained silent.

"It's been a while. I've missed you."

Ed didn't miss his father. He'd hoped he'd never see the man again.

"You've had your fun, but now it's time to come home. Time to come work with Daddy."

"I know I've made it abundantly clear I have no intention of ever working for you," Ed finally said. "That hasn't changed."

The older Dillinger sat down in a chair at the table by Ed's head. "Well. This is your last chance. I'll make you a deal. You can keep having your fun at Encom, but you will report to me on Encom's... doings."

"You want me to help you destroy Flynn's company," Ed said.

His father smiled. "I never said that."

They both knew that was his ultimate goal.

"No."

"Very well. That was your last chance. If you won't work with me, then you'll be helpful in another way."

He gestured to Peter, and Peter untied him from the table and hauled him to his feet.

Ed stumbled his vision spinning from having stood up too fast.

"Think you can keep a user in line this time, Master?"

"I would have, been able to keep Flynn in check if I didn't have that pathetically incompetent 'assistant' you'd given me." His father's voice echoes from the computer.

Ed froze, the computerized voice invoking memories from when he was very young that had given him nightmares through middle school.

The older Dillinger tsked. "Well. He's yours to entertain. You can do whatever you like, except for kill him." He made an open handed gesture toward a chair with restraints, a prototype of the digitization laser at the other side of the small room pointed at it.

So the stories were true. Flynn had been inside a computer--and they were going to do the same to him--they were going to give him to this version of the MCP.

Ed still remembered having nightmares of that dreaded program from the time he'd encountered it when he was four.

He couldn't. Existing stuck in his father's control was bad enough but to be at the MCP's mercy--"No no please don't." Ed pleaded.

"I invested in your education," his father said. "I expected a return on that investment."

Peter shoved Ed into the chair, and a lab technician Ed hadn't noticed before buckled the restraints on the chair's arms tightly around Ed's wrists. Over the pounding of his heartbeat, the laser hummed to life.

"Fine! Please, I'll spy on Encom for you just please don't!" Ed said desperately.

Or, he'd drag his feet about it, and make excuses, and only give his father the bare minimum he could get away with until he could figure out how to get out of his situation.

His father held up a hand. He turned to Ed with that smug, pleased smile that Ed had bent over backward to see as a kid. The part of Ed that was still that desperate child yearned to see more of that expression.

The rational, adult half of Ed's still foggy, slowly clearing brain, wanted to punch that stupid manipulative smile off his father's face. "Very well."

The hum of the laser decrescendoed, and then it went silent.

"Peter, finish restraining him. Dr. Skinner--" His father gestured to a box.

"What--"

"You've proven to be uncooperative before. I would like... reassurances."

Even with blurred vision Ed still recognized the shape of a syringe in the doctor's hand that he had produced from the box.

Ed's father smiled viciously. "Fortunately, that hospital bill I had to pay off your first year of college turned out to be quite an investment."

"That's--" Ed lurched forward, desperate to get out of the chair. This was bad. Extremely bad. if that was what Ed thought it was, he'd rather deal with the laser and the MCP. He couldn't go back to that old habit. It had nearly killed him once, and Ed didn't know if he could escape it again.

"Your old poison of choice," his father confirmed, "plus some other stuff mixed in, so that you can't find an alternate source. Behave, and you'll get your fix. Don't, and... well, I think you know what that's like." The 'other stuff' was likely also so to make it harder for Ed to escape.

Peter finished tightening the restraints --one around each ankle and wrist, one across his lap, another around his chest and lastly, one around his neck. He ran a hand through Ed's hair soothingly, as though to comfort. Ed held perfectly still on instinct--any movement thought to be resistance, and his father's assistant would pull on his hair.

Ed watched in horror and anticipation as the doctor approached. He couldn't breathe--the restraints were tight enough to make breathing a little difficult, but not enough to cut it off completely.

"Now, hold still and let the doctor administer your medication." Peter murmured in his ear.

Ed couldn't help but watch as the needle pierced his arm, and shivered as his body recognized the drug mixing with his blood. And then Dr. Skinner stepped away, and Ed's father stepped forward.

Ed's father cupped Ed's chin in his hand, forcing Ed to look at him. Ed's skin crawled at the contact. He wanted to pull away, but knew that any resistance would only make it worse. He didn't dare even voice his discomfort.

"Now, you'll call off work for the next week, tell them you're recovering from an accident. Dr. Skinner will provide you a doctor's note. During that time you will come home with me and undergo...reconditioning. The official story will be that you've moved home due to health complications. At the end of the week, we will give you a device so that the drugs can be administered remotely, either by me... or Master Control, which you will install a copy of on your work computer."

Ed would find a way out of this. He'd escaped addiction once the hard way, he could do it again.

He nodded numbly.

He just had to be the perfect obedient son and get through this week and then figure out how to escape.

His father slipped Ed's glasses onto his face, and motioned to his assistant to undo the restraints.

"Good lad, Junior," His father said. "I'm proud of you. It's good to have you back. Now, let's go home and get you settled in."

Peter undid the restraints, and hauled Ed up from the chair.

Ed followed obediently in a half daze as his father and assistant escorted him out of fCon's laboratories.

[awellboiledicicle]

just realized i don't need to write gertrude giving a tour, so much as write the various archival assistants coming in after michael like.

"why is there a new desk"

"No idea"

"Did you look through it already?"

"Sarah, why I-- Just because i was here, alone with it?"

"Did you?"

"Yes. No identifying information, just full of notebooks and calendars. Good pen choice though. You know the ones i put in a request for, that got turned down because the ones we were buying already worked fine? Those ones. So either they brought their own or someone likes them."

"Curious." Emma squints over her glasses before sitting at her own desk, eyeing the furniture over. "Gertrude didn't mention any new hires."

"Whoever it is is going to hate that chair, so must not like them too much." Sarah was in the middle of peering over the offending object, as if she could divine its future occupant through wood grain alone. "My back hurts just looking at it."

At the sound of someone coming down the stairs, she darted back to her desk and tried her best to look like she'd been settling in for the day. Michael's previous efforts to make everyone tea and have it on their desks aided in that effort, though it did mean she almost dropped her cup when Gertrude appeared in the doorway with a stranger in tow. Largely, of course, because the person with her was very recognizably the poor bastard they'd all seen hauled out a few weeks prior.

They were far more lively looking now, of course; the lack of dried blood and a fresh set of clothes did tend to have that effect. Their eyes seemed to take in the room as a whole, noting each of the assistants in turn, before a blink let their face settle into an awkward sort of smile as they shadowed behind Gertrude.

"As I'm sure you've noticed, we're to have a new assistant joining us here in the archive." She gave a stiff nod that the person behind her took as a signal to step forward. They had a death grip on their cane and that only really changed enough for them to give a half wave before shifting on their feet. Gertrude continued after it became apparent they weren't going to introduce themselves. "This is April May. They'll--"

"April?" Michael hadn't meant to nearly shout, really, he was just currently in the process of processing the implications and his mouth ran away before he could catch it. The outburst brought their attention soundly to him, an owlish blink following a tilt of their head. He cleared his throat. "Sorry, Ms. Robinson, I just--"

He gestured toward the stacks and hoped that would serve as explanation. She graced him with an understanding expression, which was promptly replaced with her usual business like manner.

"It's alright, Michael. As I was saying: they will be working with us for the foreseeable future. I expect you all will be quite welcoming to them as they adjust to their new position." She gestured April toward their new desk, which they hurried to sit behind. The chair was just tall enough to let them peek over the top at her, which they frowned at momentarily, before pulling back on the half smile they had before. They kept glancing between the various people in the room, landing on Michael for a good few seconds longer than was comfortable, and then moving on again. He fidgeted. "Michael?"

"Yes?"

"Show them around the stacks and the paperwork, would you?"

"Of course!"

The second Gertrude's door closed, they surrounded April like a school of sharks. Which very abruptly caused their expression to shift from tentative to having their mouth pressed into a thin line, eyes darting fast enough to make Michael worry if they'd be dizzy. Sarah soldiered on through her introduction--complete with reaching over the desk to shake their hand--with very little indication she was noticing this shift. Emma had the manners to stand just far enough to be polite about it while coolly introducing herself.

Michael meanwhile was attempting to figure out how to introduce himself without vibrating into pieces. Because it felt like he had a million and one questions to ask, many of which would absolutely not be fitting to ask someone you'd technically only just met. Not to mention the fact that something about them felt... off. Not in a bad way, but in the much the same way that it would feel very off to see a trout in the middle of a parking lot. They had the sort of air about them that they were expecting something to happen. An anxious expectation he'd seen in statement givers dozens of times before, but never in another employee of the institute. He managed to focus back in about the time their focus found him again and he was met with a squint.

"Erm, hello. It's nice to finally meet you face to face!" They quirked an eyebrow and he internally kicked himself for the turn of phrase, though they seemed more amused by it than anything. "Michael Shelley, pleasure!"

At this confirmation, the smile returned in force and they shook his hand with a grip he'd honestly would have thought beyond them. Their hands were exceptionally warm, as well, which was rather at odds with how pale they were. He tried to be discreet about flexing his fingers when they finally let go.

"Nice to be able to!" Their voice was a little raspy, but nothing terribly shocking. The accent was something he'd take a bit to get used to hearing around on the daily, but he'd manage. They seemed to relax a bit after glancing around the room once again. "Where's crosstalk?"

"Cross-- Oh! Eric will be in..." He made a vague gesture at the clock and made his way back to his desk, figuring he could give them their space. "Probably another hour."

"So..." They tapped their fingers on the cover of their desk and glanced back over the other two doing their own thing. "Paperwork and the stacks, huh?"

He opened his mouth before closing it and standing once more.

"After I get you some tea-- would you like a cup? I make some for everyone in the morning." He managed to make himself not say 'and you should have some after what you went through', because they absolutely did not need that stated. "If not, we can get started."

"I..." They looked around again and cleared their throat. "I would like that, thank you."

[kicks feet] i love them all

[amtrak12]

❤️🧡🤍🩷💜A WLW ASK MEME❤️🧡🤍🩷💜 List the top 10 ladies you’ve been obsessed with Ever Of All Time! Then send this on to 5 sapphic mutuals 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

Yes, fun! :D Thank you!!

Okay, I went fictional characters with this because I just don't really get obsessed with RL people outside of like a 5 year period between 2005-2010 where I followed select actors around to other shows. Also, there's only three ladies who I can confirm fit both 'obsessed' and 'ever of all time', so I've trudged through my entire childhood for every fictional lady who's helped shape my personality to round out the list.

In Chronological Order (to me not by air date):

Margaret Houlihan (M*A*S*H) -- Oh MASH reruns on the Hallmark channel, my beloved 💚 Now, I'm primarily talking about the juicy middle seasons after Potter took over command and Loretta Swit was able to wrestle some better storylines for Margaret, but there's some gems in the early years too. I've been drawn back to MASH three times as an adult and each time I get sucked deeper and deeper into both the real life history of the Korean War and the fictional character of Margaret. Do I have a thousand and one headcanons for how she handles life after the war? Yes. Am I obsessed with whatever platonic/sexual relationship she's got going on with Hawkeye? Yes. Have I plotted out what her D&D character might look like? YEP! She's a paladin :P I also believe if you examined her character through a queer lens, you'd find a trans man rather than a queer woman, but your mileage may vary.

AndrAIa (ReBoot) -- Yeah, yeah, yeah it's a cartoon, but bb 11 year old me was absolutely OBSESSED with this show, and AndrAIa was a big part of that. Look at her little capital AI in her name! 😭 25 years before corporate greed ruined the acronym, that AI was adorable!! And very clever given that she was an NPC game sprite who decided to leave her game and live as a real sprite. Her whole existence and vibe was very formative for me. I love her.

Harley Davidson Cooper (Guiding Light) -- Yes, her full name is absolutely necessary, even if no one ever used it. So, I was SUUUCH a CBS soap girlie back around 2000-2002, and I've been very nostalgic for it in the last few years. As the World Turns was my primary soap, so I figured one of my regular blorbos like Rose or Katie or Romana would be the one I miss most. But then Harley's actress Beth Ehlers popped up during my Law & Order SVU watch and I LOST MY MIND!!!!! Her face and voice instantly filled my soul with joy! So Harley gets the trophy. Even if she didn't have any stand out storylines during that era (apart from her and Gus being Very Hot), she was always my favorite character from GL.

Piper Halliwell (Charmed, original flavor) -- Technically, I had Turtle Wexler from the book The Westing Game on this list instead because I didn't remember Piper until after I'd drafted all ten slots :S But listen! That's because health problems have made my memory shitty! It is not because Piper doesn't stand up to the test of time! Ugh, I remember the show never treated Piper like she was the fan favorite and I hadn't discovered online TV forums yet so I felt so alone in my love for her :( But being on lesbian millennial Tumblr makes 14 year old me feel SO validated, because Piper is the only Halliwell sister anyone ever talks about on my dash. 💜 Congrats everyone. We were right all along.

Lorelai Gilmore (Gilmore Girls) -- Yeeeaaah.. we've hit the Big Three that I alluded to earlier. I was very, very gay for Lorelai (and Lauren Graham) in the latter half of my high school years, and I did not realize that until way later. She taught me how to be quicker with the comebacks and, more importantly, to marry someone who could cook instead of learning how to feed yourself. And I really took that to heart. My spouse is a fantastic cook! :) (Don't get scared for me guys! I do actually know how to cook three (3) entire meals now that I'm in my 30s :P lol)

Rose Tyler/Billie Piper (Doctor Who) -- I will list the actress here, because my love for Rose Tyler is probably split 50/50 between the character herself, and Billie Piper's charisma and hotness. She's gorgeous!!! 😍 That seemingly common question in the mid-2000s of 'Who would you kiss if you were gay?' always left me stumped until New Who aired in the states. Then, I was finally able to answer 'Billie Piper' and actually mean it. Because that's what you were supposed to do with that question, right? Take it seriously and not treat it like hyperbole? #totallystraightbehavior #swearsies Alas, it would take me two more girl crushes and interacting with genuine queer women in a femslash fandom before I recognized my feelings for what they were. But Rose was still a very significant step forward!

Myka Bering (Warehouse 13) -- MY GIRL!!! My Lady of all Ladies. I would die for her. I would kill for her. I would kneel and raise my sword and swear fealty to her. MYKA FUCKING BERING, EVERYONE! 👏👏👏👏 Watching her fall in love with Helena made me realize all my girl crushes were real crushes and that I was bi. Bless her. Bless Joanne Kelly. And bless the incomparable Bering and Wells fandom. *kisses everyone on the mouth, sloppy style*

Erin Gilbert (Ghostbusters 2016) -- Look, I know that I can never get away with pretending that Erin isn't my favorite ghostbuster, but I do usually think about her in the context of her relationships! Like 8 times out of 10, when I'm headcanoning, I'm thinking about her and Abby's relationship. And if I'm not, there's a not-so-small chance I'm thinking about her relationship with Patty instead. (RIP to Holtzy who I virtually never think about outside of the foursome. Her fanbase just ruined it for me :S) But um... yeah, Erin's my favorite. I even have Pokemon parties picked out for them all. And their daemons.

Eve (Lucifer) -- Okay so I know it hasn't even been a full high school (aka 4 years) since I met Eve, so I can't really say she's someone I'll stay obsessed with forever and ever and ever. You probably don't even believe I'm obsessed with her at all given the bulk of my Lucifer talk is about Lucifer/Chloe -- but that's just cause that's where the storyline is! Trust me, Eve is my favorite character, even if she was in the least amount of episodes (RIP me). When she pops up in the background of a Deckerstar fanvid, I'm instantly distracted and have to marathon every Maze/Eve vid in my collection. I decided to use a fandom name in the first time, like, ever, when creating my Lucifer-specific Twitter account and I made it Eve themed. She's my favorite, bestest girl who can do no wrong and -- YES! -- that does include accidentally-definitely-on-purpose starting a demon mutiny that led to newborn Charlie's kidnapping. She had never been dumped before okay? First woman to ever exist and she'd never been dumped. Did you handle your first break-up well? No! I didn't think so :P

Alex Cabot (Law & Order: SVU) -- I've only know Cabot for four months, but if anything happens to her, I'll kill everyone in this room and then myself -- OH WAIT! She already left me. 😭 I am in S17 now, which is like ten seasons past when she went into witness protection and barely ever came back, yet there's not an episode that goes by where I don't think about her. So, I say that counts as longevity and am sticking her on the list. This woman has Issues. Plural. Period. She makes me say shit like 'I want to dig into her brain with a fork' and it's actually an accurate metaphor for what I feel. I love her your honor... now who can I sue for emotional damages?