#i swear im going to draw something else sometime i swear

[escargoonie-goo]

mhm you won't believe who I drew again

[retroaria]

boyfriend rin headcannon queen?

a/n: holy shit how have i gone this long without making rin bf headcanons??? thank you anon im gonna give you a kith 💋

˚｡⋆❀˖° BOYFRIEND RIN ˚｡⋆❀˖°

❀ Itoshi Rin x gn!reader | all characters aged up 18+ | SFW

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | requests are open! | enjoy 🐢 -aria

pre-boyfriend!rin who is much less intimidated by his feelings for you than people may expect. he understands how he feels and he accepts it, but no way in hell is he telling you about them. he tries to push them down as far as he can for as long as he can. doesn’t want the distraction and is a little insecure about how he’ll be as a boyfriend.

pre-boyfriend!rin who goes out of his way to introduce himself to you, help you out with stuff, get things for you that you need, but not without complaining (as if he isn’t giddy at the thought of just being around you). “Seriously, you can’t do this on your own? If you’re going to hurt yourself doing it then just let me handle it.”

pre-boyfriend!rin who gets jealous and possessive as if you’re already his partner. tries to get your attention on him instead of others without showing how he’s feeling. always makes it a little too obvious though, especially when he literally grabs your arm and pulls you away. “That guy’s a loser, just stay with me and he won’t bother you.”

pre-boyfriend!rin who invites you to hang out just to sit and talk in his room, invites you to his games and practices, gets defensive about introducing you to his teammates, and proceeds to act as if all that isn’t couple level interaction. rin finds solace in the thin line he walks between acting like you best friend and acting like your boyfriend. he likes the way he gets to act in regards to you without actually having to explain himself or his feelings. however, the thought that you aren’t actually his and could be taken from him at any time is enough to push him past his comfort zone and lead to his confession.

pre-boyfriend!rin who lets his feelings build up to an unbearable point and only then does he confess to you. his confession comes off a little passive aggressive. he isn’t sure how to explain how he feels without saying that you did this to him or you did that to him and he had no other choice but to fall in love with you. he unintentionally rambles on during his confession, drawing it out a bit too much because he isn’t sure when to stop, and he could honestly go on forever about how much and how deeply he feels for you. slowly but surely his tone becomes more affectionate and he shuts up in a moment of embarrassment awaiting your response.

boyfriend!rin who so quickly loses the tough guy act once you guys start dating. the beginning stages of physical touch and intimacy hit him like a semi truck and he can’t help but melt into a puddle any time he gets to be in your arms. he slugs over to you after practice and games, still sweaty and heaving, and plops himself over your shoulders. tries his best not to put all his weight on you but just enough for him to feel cradled. he swears laying in bed with you is some kind of mind control ritual that you perform on him because how else could you get him to so easily open up and share a piece of his mind with you? the stillness of the night, the softness of the sheets, the comforter, and your skin against his; it makes him feel so safe he doesn’t even let the words that come out of his mouth process in his brain first.

boyfriend!rin who takes you on very sweet and simple dates. likes sitting by the water with you, walking along the beach or at the park. he likes aimlessly kicking a soccer ball around with you in his backyard while you guys talk. dates with him feel more like hangouts, but sometimes he does like to put in a little extra effort to make it something special.

boyfriend!rin who has absolutely no wandering eye or intentions of being with anyone else. remember how difficult it was for him to just be with you? nah, no way is he doing that again. plus he’s got the best partner in the world so it’s not like he would ever want to risk that. because of this he would let you have a lot of say in his appearance. his haircuts, his clothes, even the body wash and cologne he wears. obviously he still wouldn’t let you choose something that he doesn’t like, but he wants you to like all of it too and he doesn’t mind catering to your preferences on him. you’re the only person he’s trying to impress and he wants you to feel confident about that.

boyfriend!rin who secretly wants everyone to know you’re his but also doesn’t want to make a spectacle out of you. he tells his teammates about you, occasionally will post about you, and he comments on all your posts. I can’t imagine him doing a hard launch, but he’s not afraid to mention in interviews or in conversation that he is in fact taken and in love.

boyfriend!rin who greatly appreciates the advice and support that you give him. he’s got some issues he needs to work through, and he feels so lucky to have you by his side. not judging him or scolding him for acting the way he does, but instead teaching him love in new ways and guiding him towards better understanding of others and behavior. he really starts taking things more seriously when you’re around, specifically in regards to separating his attitude on the field and off the field. he holds you like water in his hands and he wants that to help him learn how to show others and himself that same tenderness when necessary.

boyfriend!rin who is very possessive but not over protective. he lets you go out and dress up and look hot for the whole world to see. he trusts you with his whole heart and the idea of someone trying to hit on you while he isn’t there doesn’t scare him. he does hate when people hit on you while he is there though, it makes his blood boil. he goes into predator mode and literally forces you to cling to him like you’re his cub. he’s definitely the type to fight with other guys in your instagram comment section, would stop after you tell him that it’s kind of embarrassing though lol. god forbid someone from a rival team makes a comment after seeing you at one of his games, he’s literally devouring them on the pitch and then probably trying to beat the shit out of them after.

boyfriend!rin who purposely puts things on the highest shelves in your shared apartment so that you have no other choice but to ask him for help. he reaches up and grabs whatever you need, handing it to you with the stupidest smirk on his face.

boyfriend!rin who always needs to have some point of contact with you when you’re together. he isn’t big on pda at all and would cringe if you tried to be excessive about it, but he will admit he just needs your hand in his almost all of the time. if not that then he’ll opt for placing his hand on your lower back or on your thigh.

boyfriend!rin who is so whipped that he looks through your socials and his personal pictures of you multiple times a day when he’s away for games. he genuinely gets homesick for you and hates the feeling. calls you when he wakes up in the mornings and before he goes to bed at night, and of course is texting you throughout the day. he’s not a gimmicky guy but he loves getting you little souvenirs from the different countries he visits. his gifts are always tasteful and he knows what you like so don’t worry.

boyfriend!rin who is the best gift giver! he’s so doting and attentive that he knows you like the back of his hand and never fails to surprise you with items, trips, events, etc. that you absolutely love.

boyfriend!rin who is super freaking awesome and cute and im only writing this bc i feel weird ending the post on something random lol. all hail rin itoshi. the rin stans have convinced me!!

LOOOOORD forgive me i know it’s been like a week since my last official post but im a working woman, a single mom who works two jobs who loves her kids and never stops with gentle hands and the heart of a fighter im a survivor bro yall wouldn’t understand. anyways im trying to get back on my regular posting schedule bc i have so many requests to fulfill so stay tuned aria nation - peace out ✌️

[kaydens-agere]

caregiver logan little wade headcanons im actually begging

Caregiver Logan Howlett/Wolverine and Regressing Wade Wilson/Deadpool Headcanons!!

Headcanons below the cut!! Thank you so much for the request, I had sm fun writing these :D This does have a bit of swearing so if you're uncomfortable with that, please proceed with caution or don't read!!

⚔️-Wade was surprisingly open about it with him when they first met, he didn't go into too much detail, but he just kinda said "yeah I regress sometimes when bad shit happens." and left it at that. Logan didn't push it because he knows it can be a sensitive topic (as a secret little himself)

❤️-It first happened with Logan after the party after saving their universe. After everyone left, he ended up dropping from the exhaustion. Logan immediately fell into "dad mode" as Wade likes to call it, pampering him constantly and keeping him safe.

⚔️-Logan was very surprised by Wade's... colourful language while he's little. Logan half expected him to act the complete opposite of how he normally does. But no, he's still Wade. And he still has quite the mouth.

❤️-Logan is extremely gentle while Wade is small, often scooping him up and peppering him with kisses. Wade absolutely loves it, it always sends him into a fit of giggles.

⚔️-Logan has an abundance of nicknames he likes using for Wade. Some of them include bub (obviously), kid/kiddo, baby, his kit, etc. Sometimes he'll call him a little shit, but it's said playfully and Wade knows he's joking (that's nothing compared to the insults that Wade can throw at him).

❤️-Wade starts inviting him to his tea parties. They spend a lot of time on the living room floor with his many tea sets, talking about the latest gossip among Wade's plushies. Al will join in when she's home.

⚔️-Heres how the tea parties normally go: "Mary started yelling at Chrissy the other day." "Oh yeah, bub? Whys that?" "Because Chrissy was cheating on her boyfriend!" "Oh, motherfucker. I knew something was up with her."

❤️-Logan often takes Wade to the park, or just big open areas to run around in, he either starts dragging Logan around with him or forces him to play tag. He has a lot of energy that he needs to get out, and it's hard to do that when he's cramped up in the small apartment. They always take Mary Puppins with them.

⚔️-Sometimes Wade will struggle with his scars when he's small, physically and mentally. Sometimes they'll burn and itch and it's a lot harder to deal with when he's tiny, so all he can do is curl up and cry. However, Logan always seems to know what to do, he'll always run him a nice warm bubble bath to ease the pain. If he's struggling mentally, it's usually him thinking that he's too ugly or scary to be loveable. Once again, Logan is there. This time, he'll offer lots of reassurance, cuddles and kisses all over his scars, which will usually make him feel a bit better.

❤️-Wade is an absolute spoiled brat, and Logan definitely feeds into it, no matter how hard he tries not to. If they're at a toy store, Wade will show him a toy he really likes, and if Logan says no, you best believe that Wade will throw a tantrum until he gets it (He always does. Logan's not proud of it, but he hates seeing his baby cry).

⚔️-Wade calls Logan "Papa" whenever he's small. It shocked him when it first happened, he didn't think he was worthy of that title. Logan definitely did not have to have a cry in the bathroom after that. /s

❤️-Logan can have doubts sometimes about whether he's doing a good enough job or whether he's even worthy enough to be trusted that much by someone. Whenever Wade senses this, he'll draw him a bunch of pictures and give him plenty of kisses and tell him that he's the best papa in the world, which makes Logan feel all warm and fuzzy.

⚔️-Logan rubs his head on Wade's a lot, it's his way of "scenting" him. He wants everyone to know that Wade is his baby, no one else's. It's comforting for Wade as well, he likes the sensation of his papa's fluffy cat hair rubbing against his face.

[zealofchronos]

i share ur struggle.. i ACHE for gepard or welt content so hopefully i could request for something like that? im js gonna throw a bunch of ideas and you can choose whichever

relationship hcs (what he’d be like, how does he show his love etc)

sleeping together (take this whichever way you want)

cooking together in the kitchen (im a whore for this stuff idk why😭)

bedroom hcs (kinks, fav positions, literally anything i need it so bad)

KISSING IN THE SNOW W GEPARD😞

anon i hope you know this ask gave me like 5000 braincells. like suddenly i am THINKING. it's so insane how one little ask full of random blurbs gave me so much life to write even just the smallest things.

literally welt and gepard are my two faves rn, i'm fr just waiting for jing yuan to come out. jing yuan my beloved <3<3

but anyway, as for this little ask, i think we'll ease into the hsr content with some fluff ( i am all due for it anyway, i have Not been writing and i also need the fluff because my god does life hit hard ) so sit tight >:)

love and cherishing you ♡ ;; various x gn!reader headcanons

content;- sfw , fluff , headcanons list , how some hsr boys show their love for you ♡♡ , overall just really fluffy because i need toothrotting stomach ache inducing head swirling sweet fluff sometimes... , nothing about getting together but just general hcs on what they'd be like in a relationship , reader is nooooot...? the trailblazer but could possibly be interpreted as such if you squint

characters inc:- welt yang , gepard landau ( includes post-belobog arc content, not extremely spoilery but take note that i chose after the jarillo-vi conclusion to open up more opportunities >:3 )

together with welt yang . . .

welt has lived life longer than perhaps anyone on the express, being from another world and used to living as the first ( second generation ) herrscher of reason, a herrscher that sided with humanity. he didn't expect to get sucked into another adventure, one where he'll meet many companions, see unbelievable sights or even... fall in love.

he's an old soul, yet his heart still has a grand passion for what he does. the fire within him burns, and perhaps, you stoke the flames. a motivation unlike any other to show you the wonders of the galaxy— of every world.

his love is not the most openly shown, an old man can be embarrassed sometimes. especially in the face of his family of the astral express. his affections for you are for you two only. his touches, his words, the little things that make sparks fly are all special and meant for your ears and eyes only. be it in the privacy of his room, or late nights when everyone else is fast asleep, he'll always find a way to make his love for you known when nobody else is looking.

time together with you is always time well spent. he enjoys it perhaps just a little more than going on adventures with everyone. you could be doing anything, and he wouldn't mind simply sitting in silence together with you. it's comforting, relaxing. it's moments like these where he gets to unwind with you. it's essentially a recharge— he doesn't even have to hold you ( but if you'd like that, he'd be more than happy to ).

he used to be an artist— an animation storyboard artist. his skills on paper would definitely outmatch the rest of the crew. he already likes to have his experiences captured in little drawings in his notebook. well, you happen to be one big, long lasting experience. one that he can't wait to see what more comes while experiencing it. you swear that you can catch him gazing at you every other day, and you always see his pencil moving across the papers in his book. inside are sketches of you in all your beauty, how he adores you, even complete with little notes about the things you like.

he wishes to show you the world, all there is to be seen across the entire galaxy. he will be there, to guide you, to accompany you. it's not that he doesn't trust the rest of the crew, but really, this is the closest thing to a date you've ever gotten. taking in the sights of new worlds, creating new memories together, and maybe getting tossed in a bit of trouble along the way. sure, it may be tiring or troublesome, but he wouldn't want to face it with anyone else.

those that come across him know him as welt yang, but this is the name he has inherited. he doesn't tell it often, perhaps, but at least you know him. the real him. he's not just welt to you, but also joachim. it is something he entrusted to you, who he is, who he once was, who he shall become— everything about him.

he adores you, and all your entirety. you are like a burning star in the galaxy above, one that burns with him.

together with gepard landau . . .

gepard, captain of the silvermane guards is a busy, busy man. between his duties as captain and his daily life, he does his best to find time for you. his lack of charm is exactly what makes him charming, some may say. he's no nonsense, stubborn, "famously uncompromising" ( as his sister claims ) with an unmatched loyalty. it sounds horrendous, but perhaps that's exactly why you love him.

you tell him he should prioritise his duty first and foremost, he is an important figure in belobog, after all. and he does, he stubbornly commits to it. even if he can see in your eyes that you're hesitantly letting him go again. it's in these rare moments that he gives you a small, warming smile and a gentle embrace— he tells you that he'll do his best, for the preservation of belobog, for its people— and most importantly, you.

bothering him on patrol isn't one of your favourite activites, there are definitely more enriching things out there, but you still do it from time to time. usually, it's when the nights are a little colder and you can't seem to sleep. it's the same old thing, each and every time. he tells you you should get home, but not after a quick walk together with him. you'd chat about the little things, and he'd even shyly try to hold your hand in such a moment. after that, he personally escorts you back to your residence, and never forgetting to leave without a kiss goodnight. it may be a simple kiss on the back of your hand, or you might get up for a quick kiss on the cheek. you don't know what you do to him.

gepard doesn't strike me as a type that knows a lot in this area. he was born and raised as a noble child, and then went straight into becoming a protector of the city he grew up in. he'd feel a little flustered at a few things, the ideas and thoughts that come to him while together with you. he's even more embarrassed as he goes to his sister for advice on how to deal with such emotions. he reads books, fiction of romance that he does best to turn into your reality. it's not perfect— he's still clueless on what's a really good date— but he's always trying harder just for you.

it's not often that he gets free time, but once he does, he's quick to seek you out... after his sister of course. for many good reasons, actually. other than the usual check in with his sister he loves so dearly, she is more helpful than most others despite her teasing. serval is a big source of support in his relationship with you, not to say you two can't handle it yourselves. he's just rather clueless about love as a whole sometimes, and she's there to give him a little nudge in the right direction. thanks to her, gepard brought you flowers once, and he does it every so often.

never underestimate the lengths he'd go for you. he may be constantly out there in the front lines trying to combat the antimatter legion and the fragmentum, and he may be busy with training the guards or some other silvermane business, but he would always keep you in mind. you're part of his motivation, and you've grown to be the biggest part of it. you could tell him it's nothing important, if you ask for something, like a favour or likewise, but because it's you, he'll put it right at the top of his priorities. you are his priority.

dates are difficult, especially when you're captain of the guards. walking around with him attracts more attention than any other thing, but it doesn't stop him from inviting you out. the luxuries of belobog would be easy for him to indulge in, as a landau and as captain, but truly, simply spending time with him is enough. your favourite dates are ones where you freely walk aimlessly in the day, perhaps after a bite to eat. fresh snowfall is light upon the city streets, unlike the eternal freeze. you find it hard to resist temptation, letting yourself be swept off your feet for a sweet kiss in the everlasting winter snow.

gepard landau has an immense lack of charm. he's stubborn, he's uncompromising, and maybe even a little dense or a little blunt. but the brighter side of these qualities always show around you. he'll find a way to see you, and he won't rest until he has. his lack of knowledge in this department has him cutely flustered from time to time, but also has him doing unknowingly romantic things. he loves you, and he wants you to know that.

[taintedcigs]

dancing with our hands tied part II — s.h

you can find part I here

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!, ANGST, making out, swearing, drinking, alcohol mention, JEALOUSY!!! eddie's a bit of an asshole i am sorry, but so is steve sometimes!! and so is reader? idk!

summary: in which steve is in love with his best friend's ex. (wc: 8k+)

a/n: this is part 2 of this fic here !! pls make sure to read it before this!! anddd, im sorry for how confusing the first part was, BUT HERE'S THE HIDEOUT INCIDENT!! and i didn't use POVs this time and i kinda gave up on dates ugrhh. also i have a little bonus content at the end even tho its so a lil silly!!! also did not proof-read this, pls ignore any mistakes or ill scream n d*e

Friday, February 7, 1986 || The Hideout.

Steve stole a glance in your direction, and immediately realized the mistake he had made. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

Why did you have to be so fucking perfect? Why did you have to have the most contagious laugh that immediately brought a warm smile to his lips? 

Steve leaned against the bar as he watched you further, reveling at the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you gave Robin a giggle, nose scrunching as you mimicked whatever story you were telling, drawing him in without even having a clue on the effect you had on him.

Your eyes met his for a brief moment, his heart pounded inside of his ribcage when you looked at him like that, as if your eyes were smiling at him. He held your gaze, giving you a subtle nod. 

God, if Steve didn’t tell you how he felt about you soon, he was sure he was going to explode.  

He turned back to the bar, head filled with the idea of opening up to you, he had to do it soon or else—

“Harrington!” Eddie beamed, interrupting his thoughts as he grabbed onto Steve’s shoulders, “You mind helpin’ me out?” He grinned, causing Steve’s brows to furrow. 

“Can you put in a good word for me?” Eddie muttered, hand pointing toward the booth, “What are you talking about?” Steve muttered, his eyes following him.

“Y/N.” Steve hoped to God that Eddie didn’t notice the shock in his eyes, blinking quickly as he tried to control the jealousy building within him. 

“I swear I’ve had the biggest crush on her,” Eddie exclaimed. Steve couldn’t help the way his face fell; he wondered if Eddie could notice it, but by the way he grinned at you, Eddie probably had no fucking clue about his feelings for you. 

“Since when?” Steve sounded bitter, chewing at the inside of his mouth to stop himself, “Uh, since forever, dude,” Eddie said, chuckling.

“Put in a little good word for me, yea? I know you guys are close and shit,” Eddie gushed as he squeezed Steve’s shoulders again, and Steve was tense now, his entire body almost burning with rage and resentment. 

Maybe it was wrong for Steve to be petty about this; maybe it wasn’t fair to you that he spent the rest of the night ignoring you; maybe it wasn’t right for him to act this way, but Steve had been on this rodeo before. 

He was always the second choice, and he knew that he was never going to be someone’s priority. Because of that, his reaction was warranted; at least that’s what he believed. Ignoring you completely while he bitterly watched Eddie make moves on you was the only way he could cope with it. 

And it was driving him crazy, knowing that Eddie was getting under your skin with the advice he got from Steve and learning everything about you from him. 

At first, it was all just some passive aggressiveness, until it turned into something bigger, until you finally couldn’t take it anymore. 

Because there stood Steve, across from the gang’s booth, leaning over the wall as he whispered something into Tammy’s ear—Steve’s ex.

With her shiny blonde hair and her big eyes, she threw him a hearty giggle, sticking to his side, while Steve barely blinked, allowing her to drool all over him.

You had no right to be jealous, not when Steve had no clue about your feelings, not when Steve didn’t owe you a thing, but you couldn’t help the frown on your face as he ignored you all night and was fine with stupid Tammy Thompson being all over him.

Your throat burned with the number of shots you took, you could never handle your tequila, but the numbness was exactly what you needed. Your mind was getting dizzier with Steve being pushed back into your thoughts.

You could feel yourself getting lighter and lighter with each sip, gaze barely holding over Steve’s direction anymore when Eddie had been keeping you company the whole night.

To think Steve was supposed to be your close friend felt like a joke now. The more he was with the blondie, the more you felt your stomach churning, gaze drifting toward Eddie to keep yourself from looking in his direction.

You felt desperate.

Steve probably saw you as the girl who was wrapped around his finger, the girl who followed him around like a puppy. Maybe that’s why he was ignoring you, trying to keep you from clinging to him.

You fidgeted in your seat; not being able to get up and tear her off of him was killing you, and  your head was pounding because of the amount alcohol in your system.

It was getting harder to ignore the jealousy that gnawed at your insides. 

Eddie didn’t seem to notice anything, but Steve did.

With each shot you took, with each step you took closer to Eddie, Steve couldn’t help the sharp pain he felt in his chest, the same rage of jealousy gnawing at him as well. He knew he couldn’t do anything about it, too, so he buried it deeper and deeper until he could make sure those feelings for you were impossible to reach.

You were going to be dating Eddie, and Steve needed to get over you as fast as he could.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t mind the attention coming from his ex.

By the time Steve arrived back at the booth, Nancy and Jonathan were already gone, you were in the bathroom—possibly puking your guts out, and Robin was getting ready to leave.

“What the fuck happened here?” He asked, concern washing over his face. “She drank a bit too much,” Robin mumbled, knowing how much Steve cared about you.

“You should maybe check on her, yea?” She gave Steve an all-knowing look, causing him to shrug.

“I can’t—” Robin interrupted him with a death glare.

“I would, but I have to go or my mom will actually kill me this time,” She groaned, saying her goodbyes before leaving in a hurry. 

“Dude, I gotta bail too,” Eddie puffed his cheeks as he put on his leather jacket. “What?” Steve asked, baffled.

“She’s wasted!” He exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up quickly, causing Eddie to shrug, “She’s probably puking her guts out right now, she needs you.” Steve’s eyes narrowed; he couldn’t believe that Eddie would even think about leaving you alone in a condition like this. 

“Gross, dude,” Eddie said, making a face as he cringed, causing Steve to roll his eyes. 

“Real fuckin’ mature, Munson.”

“You drop her home, man, I’m too fuckin’ hammered for all of this.” He gave Steve’s shoulder another tight squeeze; this time Steve was sure his blood was boiling, his eyes darkening with each word Eddie spoke.

This asshole had the audacity to use him to try to date you, and he couldn’t even fucking treat you, right? Steve shook off his thoughts before he could do something he knew he would regret.

Eddie was his best friend, and he could never let his feelings for you get in the way of you actually being happy.

“Are you going to get a cab?” Steve asked, “Yeah,” Eddie muttered mindlessly.

“Then give me your jacket.” Steve’s tone was now cold, almost demanding, and his demeanor changing within seconds was throwing Eddie off, 

“No fuckin’ way,” Eddie chuckled mockingly, he didn’t notice the serious gaze Steve holds.

“Dude, your house is five minutes away, you’ll be fine, just give me your jacket,” He demanded again.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Eddie spat.

“Because you asshole, it’s the middle of February and Y/N is wearing a fucking dress, it’s the least you could do for leaving her like that.”

“Why don’t you give her yours?” Steve didn’t know how to control the rage coursing through his veins.

“Do you see me wearing a fucking jacket?” Eddie was sure he had never seen Steve like this, with those veins in his forehead visible as he could feel his fists clench. Eddie’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by Steve’s bizarre behavior.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Eddie mumbled before taking off the jacket with a few huffs escaping from his lips.

“There, you happy, man?” Eddie hissed, almost tossing the jacket toward Steve, “Fucking ecstatic,” Steve replied with an angry smirk.

Steve sighed before he made his way to the bathroom. Not knowing what was waiting for him inside, he knocked on the door hesitantly and asked, “Y–you okay?” The shakiness in his voice was exposing him.

A faint ‘Yeah’ was all he heard before you unlocked the door.

And there you laid on the dirty bathroom tiles, your hair disheveled, make-up smudged, and you could barely get your head up from the toilet seat.

Steve’s heart sank, guilt settling in his insides again like an old friend. He knew he couldn’t always take care of you, and he knew that you’d be with Eddie soon, but he couldn’t help but feel the crushing weight of guilt when all of this could’ve been avoided if he was just there for you. 

And his mind was still reeling about the fact that Eddie dared to leave you like this.

Would the fucker even be able to treat you right?

“Want me to help you?” He asked, hands itching to reach out and hold you, but you dismissed him like it was nothing, like he didn’t mean anything to you anymore, and it had only been an hour since Steve had learned that Eddie was into you. 

“No,” Even when you were this messed up, you held onto your grudge, shutting out any feelings of understanding or empathy toward Steve, even though he was only trying to help you out.

“I can help, to, you know—hold your hair and stuff,” He stuttered, he had never been this nervous around you.

You flushed the toilet as you attempted to get up, “I’m not—I didn’t throw up,” Your words were slurred.

“If you… if you feel like throwing up, I can—”

“No!” You exclaimed a bit too loudly, throwing him a cold stare. “I’m just trying to help you, Y/N.” His tone sounded disappointed, but you could care less when he had acted like a jerk most of the night.

“I don’t need your help,” You snapped while flushing the toilet, trying to stand still, your head growing dizzier each time you moved.

Steve breathed a heavy sigh and said, “Here.” He ignored your protests as he helped you up, warm hands were tight around your waist. If you weren’t this embarrassingly drunk and a huge mess, you would’ve started getting your hopes up.

But not after today, not after he ignored you to be with Tammy Thompson all fucking night.

“I got it!” You spat, trying to free yourself from his hold. “Let me help, please.” This was the most genuine he had been tonight, his voice almost pleading as he threw you that pitiful look, and you hated it.

You hated being the one Steve pitied and not the one he pined after, but you swallowed your pride when you realized you couldn’t even walk properly.

You barely questioned everyone’s absence when your mind was filled with Steve. 

And once he dragged you out of the bar, you couldn’t help the petty words that escaped your lips; you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to.

“You can get back to your girlfriend now,” You muttered bitterly, your voice clear. There was venom in your tone, and your grudge was poison with the way it seeped into your words.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Steve sighed, and you lightly pushed him off of you as you stood still on your own.

“Does the name Tammy Thompson ring a bell?” You narrowed your eyes. You wish you could tape your mouth right now and stop yourself from spilling so much of your feelings to Steve.

“What does that have to do with anything, Y/N?” His tone remained cold now; your heart was in his hands, and he was squeezing it each time he distanced himself from you. 

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite,” Each time you dismissed him, you unknowingly tore open the old wound in his heart, keeping it fresh. 

“If—if you wanted to take care of me so badly, then why did you ignore me all fuckin’ night?” Your face heated with anger, and your tone was tinged with frustration. 

“Should go back to fuckin’ blondie over there,” You muttered under your breath, avoiding eye contact with him, unable to conceal the bitterness you were holding onto. 

“Oh my god,” The realization dawned on Steve at a crawl.

You were jealous of him.

“You are jealous,” Steve couldn’t help the annoying smile on his lips, much to your dismay. You were jealous of him, and as selfish as it was, it was amusing to him. 

“What?” You snapped, eyes narrowing, “I’m not jealous—” The look Steve threw at you was enough to break you. “Jerk,” You mumbled under your breath. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, it dooooeees,” He said, dragging his words out to annoy you further, as he took a step closer to you, almost closing the distance that he had been keen on protecting the entire night. 

He was frustrating, so fucking frustrating, spinning your head faster than all the booze in your system. You couldn’t help the way your eyes grew mellow when he looked at you like that, you wanted to take all of him in. 

This entire day was beginning to grow tiring, from Eddie’s sudden interest in you to Steve’s emotional whiplash, and now, since you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for one goddamn second, he was aware of your unnecessary jealousy. 

“I’m not doin’ this with you,” You slurred again, hands wrapping around yourself almost as an attempt to conceal yourself from him, he could see right through you, and it was making you feel things you were not ready for. 

“W—where is Eddie?” Those were the worst three words that could come out of your mouth. Just when Steve was basking in the glory and the hope that you were jealous of him, you decided to bring up Eddie, and with just his name rolling off your lips, you were re-opening his wounds.

Why not him?

Why was it never Steve?

Steve gulped; physically, he wasn’t sure what step to take would be better, to put a distance between you and him or to put a distance between him and Eddie. 

And even though he knew he would regret doing this like there’s no tomorrow, even though Eddie doesn’t fucking deserve this decency, or you, Steve decided that he can’t do this to his friend. 

“At least he’ll take me home!” You exclaimed so confidently that Steve couldn’t help the dry chuckle that escaped his lips. 

“Yeah, I’m sure he would.” Steve quipped, grinning. He was mocking you again, unaware of your growing frustrations.

“What the hell is your problem?” You narrowed your eyes. “Unlike you, he didn’t ignore me all night to be with his ex, and he gave me his jacket.” Steve chuckled at that, again, frustrating you more and more, each time he opened his mouth. 

With an irritated frown, you shot a sharp glance at him and asked, “Is everything a fucking joke to you?” 

“Do you enjoy making me upset?” You crossed your arms against your chest, “You don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself!” You snapped, not even knowing know why you uttered those words, you knew better than anyone that Steve wasn’t selfish; he never once put himself in front of his friends, but you were aiming to hurt him, and he was ready to bite back now. 

“You are so fucking ridiculous, I—I can’t do this with you,” You murmured dejectedly, not being able to help it when your voice cracked; he was so embedded in your brain that you couldn’t form coherent words with the space he took up in your mind.

“You have no idea what you’re even talking about,” He whispered, shaking his head. If only you knew.

“Did you actually stop to think about how shitty it makes me feel when you give me these stupid emotional whiplashes?” You asked, and if you dared to get closer to him, you might’ve lost the purpose of the argument, your gaze drooping down to his lips every few seconds.

Steve stared at you blankly; you were unable to make anything out of his expressions, he looked at you as if you never existed to him, on a fucking whim.

Your lips tremble, a telltale sign that you would break soon.

His no response spoke volumes to you, “Of course you didn't.” You gave him a dry chuckle, filled with bitterness, and turned on your heel to walk away from him.

The slight breeze of February air hit you harder than Steve’s words.

He sighed a heavy breath when he heard you gasp at the coldness, hand reaching out to your arm before he spun you to meet his gaze again,

“Watch it, Y/N.” The words slipped past his lips forcefully, his chest puffing down with each breath he took. He was so fucking close that one move from you would change everything.

The tension was palpable; unspoken words and emotions hung in the space between the two of you.

And there it was.

There were his emotions again, filling his gaze quicker than you realized. If you weren’t this shitfaced, you could possibly do something about the ever so slightly distance between you, your foreheads almost touching. But your mind was spinning with endless possibilities. “Or what?” You teased; maybe it wasn’t the right time to do so, but you wanted to push him, make him break, the same way he did to you.

How far was he willing to take it?

His grip on your arm tightened; it wasn’t harsh, but tight enough to send shivers down your spine. And you couldn’t determine a single thing he was thinking again, eyes locked with each other without a single word being spoken.

You could sense his mind wandering off to find you a proper answer, trying to pick his words carefully, but you didn’t want that.

You wanted to know what he was thinking—what was going through his mind when he looked at you like you meant something to him, like he was ready to risk it all.

It was momentarily, but you could see it all—the sudden flint of confidence that didn’t waver enough to be convincing.

It wasn’t long until he returned to the cold demeanor he had been reserving just for you. “No, you’re not fucking worth it,” He muttered, taking a step back before he bit the inside of his cheek—hard. The metallic taste of blood flooded his senses, but he could care less; if he hadn’t done it, he would’ve poured his heart out.

He would’ve risked it all just to see those sparks in your eyes, but with five words, he had managed to kill it, slitting all the possibilities with the sharpest knife he could find.

“W–what?” Your voice cracked, and you fucking hated it. You hated being this weak in front of him, with tears ready to spill every time you had an argument, even over the smallest things.

“Just–Fuck! Look at you,” He didn’t want to say it; he didn’t want to burn this bridge with you, but he knew he had to for his own sake and for you to be happy with Eddie.

“You—you’re all over the place, always relying on others to take care of you, just one fucking night I didn’t baby you…” He shook his head. “And you act like I’m fuckin’ insane for doing that!” His voice was calm and collected, and that was what was throwing you off. How could he relay your insecurities in front of you, crush your heart to pieces, and pretend as if what he was saying was okay?

You couldn’t help it when tears flooded your vision. You tried not to let them get to you, but the alcohol in your system was far too dizzying and hormonal to stop your emotions from flowing. You didn’t know why he decided to utter those words, but it hurt.

Each of the gazes you shared and each word that transpired, deepened the wound in your insides that you didn’t even know existed, your feelings were at the surface, and you were vulnerable at his expense.

But Steve didn’t care. 

“I—I can’t believe you’d say that,” You whispered, blinking the tears away when you took a step back, the hurt subsiding when it transformed into rage. “Fuck you,” You spat, your words weren’t slurred this time, but your vision was blurry again, barely taking another look at him when you started to walk away.

And he didn’t call out after you; he didn’t even flinch. 

You were all alone.

You let your emotions overtake you as you started sobbing, sniffling every once in a while as you tried to comfort yourself. 

Eddie could drop you home, you tried to reassure yourself, you knew there was a payphone close to The Hideout, if you could just walk a few more minutes, you could just call him—but holy fuck, did your feet hurt. You cursed yourself for not listening to Nancy when she told you to wear more comfortable shoes.

You were wobbly now, tears pouring down your cheeks, your smudged mascara distorting your view further, and it was dark out, so fucking dark that it started to scare you.

Your mind reeled more and more, and your chest felt trapped with each shallow breath you took. Eddie would’ve never uttered those words to you, your angry mind decided, Eddie wouldn’t flirt with girls—his exes—in front of you.

Eddie would never give you this sort of emotional whiplash.

And most importantly, Eddie would never leave you like this.

You felt so tired, just wanting to sleep, but you knew you couldn’t turn back now. Your feet were aching, but you’d rather they blistered than see Steve again.

You sat on the ground, relief washing over you when you got rid of your shoes, and the dirty, cold concrete ground felt so comforting that you nuzzled into the leather jacket, arms wrapped around yourself to provide more warmth as you sniffled into it.

You’re not sure if you can ever be with Steve anymore.

Sure, you could still be friends because you did have many big, stupid fights—granted, none of them were like this; this was different. 

This was the first big fight you had with him since you realized your feelings for him, and it hurt.

Steve was not who you thought he was.

He was never going to love you.

He only saw you as his friend, and right now, even that was questionable.

And there you were, pathetically pining after him while he was drooling all over other girls, chasing him down and making a mess of yourself just for him to leave you like this.

You sniffled again; Eddie would never, and he actually was interested in you.

God, how you wished he could find you now, take you home, and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he tried to mend what Steve broke.

You knew it was selfish, but it was the only way.

Maybe if Eddie could make you forget him completely, he could remind you that you weren’t a mess and that you were perfect.

Your vision blurred again, hot tears were stinging your eyes, but the ground was so comfortable.

Steve was right, you were a mess, you were a huge fucking mess, and you were pathetic, but you didn’t care as you hugged yourself further, head falling into your lap as you let yourself fall more and more into the deep pit of despair.

And that’s the last thing you remembered.

You didn’t remember Steve running after you as he realized how much he fucked up; you don’t remember Steve seeing you curled up into a ball, almost falling asleep.

You don’t remember Steve lifting you up and carrying you before anything bad happened to you.

You don’t remember the apologies Steve muttered into your ear on the ride home, how he checked every few seconds to make sure you were okay, his hands never leaving yours as he wanted to punch himself for even putting you in a position like this.

You don’t remember Steve whispering sweet nothings into your ear when he tucks you in, and you don’t remember him almost staying till the morning to make sure you were okay and didn’t get sick. 

The last thing you remember was the fight. 

You woke up the next morning with a groan, and you were sure no painkiller was going to help the pounding in your head. 

You couldn’t help but cringe when you looked in the mirror, your hair was an absolute mess, the top that adorned your neck was covered with alcohol stains, your make-up was smudged, and you only had one earring.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” You sighed, taking off the dirty clothes as you put on a comfy shirt, your room was as messy as you were, bag on the floor while its contents spilled out, and… a leather jacket?

Slowly but surely, last night’s events came to you in a blur. The last thing you remembered was the fight you had with Steve. 

Both of you spewed some hurtful things at one another, and that’s the clearest you could remember it.

You examined the leather jacket sprawled over the floor, and your brows knitted together, Steve didn’t even have a jacket on last night; you remembered because Robin made fun of him for not bringing a jacket in February when Steve whined about being cold.

You read the tagline; E.M. 

Oh god.

Was it… Eddie? Did he drop you off when you were embarrassingly drunk?

Was Eddie the one who took care of you the whole night while Steve threw you away like a piece of paper?

You remembered the hurtful things he said to you; your mind was too jumbled up to even recall the nice things he said to you afterward.

You knew you have to talk to him, mend your friendship, but all you could think about now was Eddie, how he took care of you, and how he was there for you. 

That day you called him, and he told you in detail how wasted you were and how he had to carry you home. You made up with Steve afterward too, both of you muttering apologies to each other as you promised not to let stupid things get out of hand. 

And that day, Eddie took you on your first date with him. 

NOW

“Buckley, you mind ringing these up for me?” You beamed, throwing her an innocent smile, your eyes wandering off to Steve’s absence next to her.

You gave her the ‘Evil Dead II’ and ‘Dirty Dancing’ VHS tapes nonchalantly, waiting to ask her about Steve.

Robin’s eyebrows shot up, “What kind of a double-feature is this supposed to be, huh?”

“A very fun one,” You said with a slight smirk, handing her a couple of bills.

You scanned the store, he was nowhere to be seen, of fucking course. “Harrington running from me again?” You almost cursed yourself for saying that out loud, but you couldn’t help it, something snarky would’ve slipped out eventually.

You saw Robin almost freeze, her mouth hanging open as her brain short-circuited to find a quick answer.

“I—It’s fine,” You mumbled. “Just tell him I would really like to talk to him. Once his weird tantrum is over?” You commented; it was snarky again, but he deserved it.

Five days had passed since the party, and Steve had been avoiding you like the plague, not returning your phone calls, and sneaking out the back each time you visited Family Video, and it was driving you crazy.

Determined to talk to him, you spent the last few days re-evaluating everything. You wanted to ask him what the fuck he meant—was everything that led to you dating Eddie a lie?

And did Steve never think to tell you this, even once the two of you broke up? His audacity was pissing you off, more than ever now that he was avoiding you.

Then small things started coming back to you in a flash, like the drunken confession you made to him last week.

But you were still clueless about The Hideout. You racked your brain away, but you couldn’t remember it for the life of you. Even the fight with Steve was so vaguely burned into the back of your brain, you simply didn’t want to remember it, or the hurtful words he uttered to you that night.

You had decided to forgive and forget, had no intention of going back to that head space, until recently, when Steve decided to blurt out that he was the one in Hideout, leaving without explaining anything further.

You tried to fish it out of Robin, but she acted clueless, and you tried everything you could do to reach out to Steve, but it was useless.

So that only left you with one thing.

Eddie.

Eddie had told you the day after The Hideout incident that it was he who took you home, detailing everything that happened that night.

You were basically breathless by the time you made it to Eddie’s trailer, knocking on the door, until it hit you.

What the fuck were you doing? Knocking on Eddie’s door when he had no fucking clue what was happening, when he had no idea you and Steve had kissed.

When he had no idea that you knew.

You shook your head in embarrassment as you turned around, about to leave, coincidentally and to your dumb luck, that’s when Eddie had decided to open the door.

He stood speechless when he saw you, his eyes almost bulging out of his head. “Y/N?” He asked, tone barely audible.

“Hi.” You muttered, accepting Eddie’s invitation as he stood aside for you to enter, and you squeezed by him with a quick ‘thank you’

“Look, I know you’re wondering why the fuck your ex showed up at your door but—”

“Oh, don’t worry.” He interrupted

“I do have an idea,” He smirked slightly, causing you to throw him a confused look, you were about to open your mouth, ask a million questions, but he didn’t let you.

“I know everything,” He muttered, and you couldn’t decide his facial expressions. “Steve told me about all of it.”

“And I already told him there was no bad blood between me and you and that it was fine that you guys kissed—”

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

“What?!?” You exclaimed, not expecting Steve to babble about it to Eddie when he had been avoiding you.

“Look, honey, Steve was all blabbering and shit when he came to see me, tellin’ me all this shit about how much he liked you and how sorry he was,” Eddie said with a concerned look.

“And I told him it was all fine, Christ—when did we even date, like 2 years ago?” You didn’t answer him and he sighed. 

“I always knew the two of you had something for each other, I mean, why’d you think I got so jealous anytime you guys hung out together alone? He was definitely—“” He rambled for what felt like minutes, and you were quick to interrupt it, eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to process what the fuck was going on.

“Stop!” You exclaimed, “That’s… uhm– good to know, but not what I came in here for,” You muttered, eyes wandering to the ground.

He threw you a quizzed look, brows knitted up together, “I–I wanted to ask you about something,” You gulped.

“Well, spill it out, sweetheart, you’re makin’ me all nervous and shit.” He gave you a dry chuckle.

“What–what exactly happened that day?” You knew he was going to ask what the fuck you were talking about, so you cut him off before he got a chance to speak.

“At The Hideout… Two years ago.” You could see Eddie almost panic visibly, he didn’t expect it, and did it really matter now, after everything?

“Shit… why won’t you ask Steve about all this?” He scratched his head, it was all awkward, you coming here, asking him something that was two years ago, Steve telling Eddie about the kiss while refusing to acknowledge you… 

It was embarrassing, really, and with each passing minute, a rage fueled inside of you. Sick of the hiding, and the lies. You just wanted the truth, and for Steve to not run at the first inconvenience.

“I would, if he didn’t avoid me like a fucking child,” You spat under your breath, causing Eddie to chuckle. He shook his head again.

“Right, so… I’m assuming since it was two years ago, you won’t be mad at me, right?” He asked, an innocent look spreading over his face, almost fearing as he saw how angry you were at Steve.

You almost rolled your eyes, these two idiots were making your blood boil. “Just want the truth, Munson, then I’ll be gone, I promise.”

“Right!” He chuckled nervously before telling you everything that happened that night.

You called Eddie right after you found his jacket, blabbering like an idiot as you thanked him a million times. While Eddie had no fuckin’ clue what had happened, he was still trying to get over his own hangover, but he wasn’t going to completely shut you down, not when he wanted you this badly, not when you were in the grasp of his hands.

As soon as you hung up, promising him a date, he called Steve, and he didn’t even have to beg him to play along; Steve was just... okay with it.

Steve knew the moment Eddie told him about his little crush that the two of you had no chance and that Steve would only be a little thought in the back of your mind, while Eddie would be the first choice, because why wouldn’t he?

Why would you choose him over Eddie?

And with all the sudden information flooding your mind, you weren’t sure how to react, how to vent all these emotions running through your veins, so you did it the only way you knew how; anger.

You checked the clock; 10.08

Steve’s shift should’ve ended long ago by now, you barely mumbled a goodbye to Eddie when you left, mind focused on one thing.

Steve.

You arrived at his door with your lips tightening and your jaw clenching, you weren’t going to give up now; you were going to talk to him. Now or never.

You knocked on the door so hard that you were sure your knuckles were bruising, and Steve was baffled when he opened the door, mouth almost agape as he looked at the sight in front of him.

“You know what you are? A fucking coward,” You mumbled, not giving him a second to process anything as you shook your head. 

“You are a selfish fucking coward! Do you think you can make decisions for other people? You think you can just take their choices away and pretend like everything is fucking fine!” Steve didn’t utter a word when you let it all out, your words meshing with each other, and you could feel your blood boiling each time you spoke, but it was… weirdly relieving.

All that pent up anger was finally coming out.

“And you told Eddie?!? You fucking talked to him but didn’t have the guts to even face me! Five days, five fucking days, I followed you around, you fucking jerk!” You spat, your eyes flashed with anger as your face came closer to him, he didn’t even flinch, eyeing you curiously, those deep honey glazed eyes were warming the more he looked at you.

And Oh God, was his gaze inviting, so warm, but you couldn’t soften up… not when you still had so much to say.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is for me? No—no… Fuck that! I don’t even give a fuck if it's embarrassing, I’ve been–I’ve been living a lie and you–it’s your fault…” You mumbled the last part, chest heaving, when your fiery gaze met his, he was itching to talk, and you could tell.

“That—that’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?” He muttered, causing your eyes to narrow, “Look why don’t we just go inside and have an adult conversation? No need for these tantrums—” And that hit a nerve. 

“Don’t,” You muttered, closing your eyes, the rage bubbling up to the surface again, gnawing at your skin, waiting to welcome you.

“Don’t you fucking dare to tell me to have an ‘adult conversation’ when you’ve been avoiding me like the plague!” You exclaimed angrily, face heating with anger, Steve nodded, understandingly. He didn’t mean to sound like a jerk, he just wanted to talk to you. He had been debating what to do these last five days, and shutting you out during that was obviously stupid, but that’s how he handled everything, wallowing it all until he chewed his emotions, keeping them hidden.

“What was I supposed to do?” He asked, almost defeated, and it made you want to chuckle, he was sending you over the edge.

“Are you kidding me?” It wasn’t a question; it was stupid for Steve to even attempt to open his mouth.

“You could have talked to me!” You took a deep breath; your anger wasn’t going to help, and if you didn’t talk to Steve as soon as possible, your head might have exploded.

You sighed as Steve stood aside, leading you to the living room, and your anger subsided with each step you took. The familiarity of the house was engulfing you, and you wanted to scream. 

What if Steve had told you this would change nothing?

What if this was it for the two of you?

Your head was swirling, and it hurt, both physically and emotionally. It was taking a toll on you and Steve could sense it.

“What—what really happened… that day?” You asked, voice barely audible as you avoided his gaze.

Steve sighed as he took a seat next to you on the couch, hand itching to lay on your thigh, squeeze it to make you feel comfortable, just so you would look at him, but he resisted it, hand flexing as he placed it between the two of you.

“You–you remember our fight?” He mumbled, causing you to nod. “We both said some stupid shit to each other—”

“Well, you started it—” You gazed up at him, and this time he threw you a look, causing you to close your mouth as if to signal him to continue.

“And—and you left… and the second you did, I just felt this horrible fucking pit in my stomach, I could never—I could never leave you like that,” His voice was shaking, hands flexing again as he inched closer to you.

“I found you on the street, Y/N, almost passed out, and I lost my goddamn mind for leaving you alone—even for a second, I ca—I can’t fucking imagine what I would even do if anything happened to one–one fucking strand of your hair—just the thought makes me sick to my stomach—Jesus.” He muttered, face still toward you as you could trace it now, the worried lines etched onto his forehead, a frown taking upon his usual plump lips, voice cracking as you could sense it, the utter worry and desperation in his voice. 

You couldn’t open your mouth, words failing you as you opted out to hold his hand instead, a small gesture, but one that made Steve’s entire stiffness disappear. One touch from you warming him up immediately.

“I took you home as fast as I could—I tucked you in, made sure you didn’t get sick, and then I left.” 

“Why?” You asked, meekly.

“Why did you let me believe it was him? Why did you ignore me that night?”

“It–it doesn’t matter now,” He mumbled, and your brows furrowed again, fury still locked up inside of you.

“It fucking does!” You snarled, insides burning with anticipation and anger.

“Stop being a fucking coward,” You yelled, you didn’t want to scream at his face, but he left you with no choice. If you wanted to talk to him, you had to get some things out of him, no matter how much it angered you.

“Just tell me, Steve, full transparency, I want it all out.”

Steve’s silence caused a groan out of you, “If you don’t, I’m gonna leave… for good,” You whispered. 

You were bluffing; you weren’t going to go anywhere without getting some closure, but Steve didn’t know that, and he had never seen you this riled up, so he sighed when you got up.

“I didn’t want to lose you!” He got up after you, staring at your back for a full minute until you turned around to meet him, a quizzed look overtaking your features.

“What?”

“God! I wanted to—Shit. I wanted to tell you about how I felt, but then Eddie came and he told me all about how he had feelings for you, and, uh, I just panicked— so fucking hard. I knew you would have chosen him, and I had that rejection one too many fuckin’ times, and I—I knew I couldn’t handle it from you!” He exclaimed, breath ragged as his brown orbs looked at you with such sympathy that you wanted to drop everything and kiss him, tell him that he would always be your first choice.

“I knew you would choose him and—” 

“I didn’t want to be a second choice again, Y/N, I was so fucking scared—” You shook your head.

“Steve you—god, you have no fucking clue about anything,” You chuckled dryly, interrupting him.

“When you ignored me for Tammy that night, when you told me that I wasn’t ‘worth it’ that’s when I decided to contain my feelings for you, I knew you didn’t like me for anything more than friends—I always thought we had a ‘will they won’t they’ kind of relationship but that night, confirmed it for me,” You looked away, almost ashamed, face burning up.

“I felt so fucking desperate—like you wanted to push me away like I was an idiot girl who was clinging onto you, and now everything is just so confusing that I don’t even know what is going on.” Your hands ran through your hair.

“But you were and will always be my first choice,” You didn’t mean to smile, but it just appeared, anger washing away. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” You muttered, and Steve’s entire demeanor changed, his body relaxing as he realized how much of an idiot he had been.

“What?” He asked, baffled, a small smile overtaking his lips before you could say another word. 

“Yeah,” You murmured, taking a step closer to him, 

“So… we’re both idiots, huh?” He asked, basking in the way you looked up at him, batting your eyelashes as your warm aura engulfed him.

“Hmmm… I’d say it’s more you than me,” You mumbled, scrunching your nose, as Steve huffed playfully, inching closer and closer to you. You didn’t know where this took the two of you, but your mind was so busy when he was standing this close to you.

One strand of his hair fell onto his forehead, and all you wanted to do was run your fingers through them, kiss every inch of his face, run your lips along his soft ones, feel his calloused hands on your curves, grabbing desperately, meek grunts leaving his lips, both of you breathless.

And that’s exactly what you did—without a care, you closed the distance between the two of you with an annoyed huff, fingers running through his shiny hair. 

His hands were quick to land on your hips, grabbing them like he was afraid of you slipping away, once again. And it all felt so easy and familiar that you could feel your head spinning.

His lips brushed against yours softly. You didn’t want this moment to be over, wanting to cling to him forever. Everything he did made you feel foolish and insane, and you understood why being in love felt like losing your mind, again.

Steve groaned into your lips, kissing you harder, once, twice, his lips never fully letting go of you, and you didn’t know if it would ever be enough for you, utterly craving nothing but him.

Your mind was jelly at this point, everything was tangled together while the question of ‘What’s going to happen now?’ lingered in your mind. Did he still want you? Did he still want to be together? Why didn’t he just come to you after talking to Eddie? 

You tried to shake them off, tried to focus on the way Steve’s hands stuck to your body, like they belonged there, and the way his lips moved along yours, like it had always been this way.

You wanted to continue, wanted so badly to not let this moment go, but the bickering voices in your head were too much, and you pulled away slowly. Steve almost groaned when he felt the absence of your lips. He blinked once, twice.

“Oh, fuck. Do that again.” He unintentionally let out, gaze filled with lust as his pupils were blown wide, and a small giggle left your lips. “You are an idiot,” You whispered, your gaze settling on him. 

Was everything going to be okay?

How were you even going to manage to make this work? 

And with that, your expression soured, “Steve,” You said seriously, causing him to look up at you with concern all over his face. “I don’t want to get hurt again.” You murmured, forehead touching his.

“I won’t hurt you, ever.” His gaze was intense, and it made you feel giddy, worries washing away in seconds. You don’t know how he fucking did it, but it worked. 

And you trusted him like no one else. 

You couldn’t help it when your lips twitched into a smile. “You promise?” You gushed.

“With all my heart, honey.” He whispered, taking a deep breath. 

“You have no fuckin’ idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, dreaming about this...”

“I would never, ever do anything to hurt you.” He muttered, his hands tucking the strand of hair that was blocking him from placing messy kisses all over your face. 

“I couldn’t handle losing you, not again,” He murmured before leaning in to press more kisses all over your soft lips.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

bonus scene: just for shits n giggles idk

“What movies did you get today?” He asked with a childish grin on his lips.

“If you weren’t avoiding me, you would’ve known, pretty boy.” You exclaimed dramatically, crossing your arms against your chest.

Pretty boy.

The only thing that stuck in Steve’s brain was that he was your pretty boy.

And this giddy feeling inside of him was never going to go away, he decided.

He huffed playfully before he grabbed your bag, causing you to gasp. “Let’s see…” He murmured as he tried to find the VHS tapes.

“Aha!” He exclaimed as he grabbed the two of them, turning the cover to see what movies you rented. 

“Oh my god,” He murmured. “A double-feature? For us?” He couldn’t help the way his lips twitched into a smile, so warm that you wanted to bathe in the glory of making him this happy.

“Mhmm… First, Evil Dead II for me, and once Stevie gets scared, we’ll put on Dirty Dancing.” You give him a wink.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” He groaned. “You are so fucking perfect, I’m gonna lose my mind.” He placed a kiss on your forehead.

another a/n: so this is a bit messy bc i had too many ideas and this is the best i could do to fit them all in, i hope this doesn't feel that disconnected from the first!! work has been kicking my ass lately so my mind is all mushed lmao!! feel free to leave ur feedback and pls comment, like or reblog to support me ily <33

[whousestypewriters]

its you and me, baby - j.l x reader

pairing: joey lynch x fem!reader [established relationship]

requested: yes / no

warnings: swearing and sadish/insecure thoughts?

a/n: dw guys im still feeding you even tho im not online (this has been ling over due as well sorry to the two anons who requested this for taking so long!!) also i rlly dont like that i kinda not really sorta made aoife a problem in this bc joeyaoife forever!!!

taglist: @lxvebelle, @ecliphttlunar,

you like to think you're not insecure.

really.

but sometimes those small moments of doubt creep in and you find yourself questioning yourself more.

like right now as you watch your boyfriend talk to a very pretty girl at the bar. the same girl he'd been talking to for the last fifteen minutes. aoife molloy. she went to school with you and joey. you never really talked much to her but always got the vibe that she was a perfect shining star, that everyone loved.

example number one; your boyfriends smile right now.

he's smiling brightly at aoife, chatting away while he gets drinks for the both of you, laughing at whatever things she says. the feeling starts to build in your gut, one you desperately try to shove down because its the worst feeling ever.

and you see them too. the slight touches from aoife on joey's arm. fucking hell you're going to need several drinks if this is how tonight is going to go.

aoife's loud laugh breaks through your thoughts and draws your attention - not that you weren't already looking at them - back to her. joey's eyes are alight and you feel a ping of sadness and two ugly emotions you definitely don't like; insecurity and jealousy.

why didn't joe's eyes light up that bright when you two were together? why did he laugh as loud? was it you? were you just not funny enough? or was it something else? that one thing deep, deep down you were always afraid of. that you weren't good enough for him. and that he had found someone better.

"stupid shit thoughts," you grumble to yourself. "shut up, shut up, shut up."

pushing away all thoughts, you decide on getting your mopey ass a drink instead cause clearly someone else can't do that. standing up you make your way over to the bar and just to be petty you slip in next to joey and aoife and call out to the bartender ordering your drink.

joey hears your voice and his head instantly snaps around to you. "y/n, hey baby i was just getting us some drinks," he says with a small grin.

"yeah it seems so," you roll your eyes picking up your drink and heading back to your table. joey seemingly knowing that you're pissed says a quick goodbye to aoife and follows you over with two more drinks.

he sits down across from you and tries to make eye contact. "are you okay?"

you answer with a short nod and a sharp, "yes."

jealousy isn't a good emotion. its such an awful feeling, and you do not like it. so when joe asks, "you sure, baby?"

you kinda snap. "i said yes. i'm fine okay?"

he lets it go for now but you feel his eyes on you through out the rest of the - admittedly short - time you spent out together. you know he knows something is bothering you.

yeah, somthing was bothering you, someone called aoife molloy who's the prettiest person ever and who had joey lynch laughing his ass off for at least twenty minutes before you interrupted.

now you liked aoife, she was a sweet girl, but seeing the way she was with joey tonight really made you wanna bitch slap her. that was your boyfriend not hers.

the ride home you were quiet and you tried to bury the jealousy and insecurity bubbling beneath the surface you really did. but those dumb little thoughts kept weaselling their way into your head creating more doubt.

after you had both gone inside - still not talking - joey had had a shower and started to relax getting ready for bed while you had your own.

the hot - ok more like burning - water did nothing to ease the awful feeling in your gut. it was aoife molloy most guys your age would kill to go out with her. and she had chosen to talk to your boyfriend - who you aren't kidding yourself he's absolutely gorgeous. you've heard girls whispering about him more that a few times - you're not-single-very-taken-boyfriend.

ugh.

so when you come out of the shower and still didn't talk to joey thats when he snapped.

"alright thats it." he shoots his arms out wrapping them around your waist and throwing you on your back on the bed. he leans over you one arm on each side of your head caging you in. "what is wrong, and don't you dare say nothing because i swear to god i will kill you-in-a-non-threatening-way-because-i-love-you," he rushes the last part out.

"nothi-"

"y/n."

"fine," you sigh. "it... bothered me tonight, when you were talking with aoife."

"and..." joey eggs you on.

we're you really about to say this? "and i got jealous and insecure and i wasn't happy about it."

"why were you jealous?"

"because of her!" you cry. "its aoife fucking molloy, she's gorgeous, she's every guys dream girl and she was flirting with my boyfriend! and my boyfriend was smiling right back at her and yes it made me jealous because my boyfriend never smiles at me like that. he never laughs as loud when he's with me so yes. i. was. jealous."

joey's face stays still for a moment before he breaks into the biggest laugh. "oh, my god, y/n!" he chuckles loudly. "you have absolutely nothing to be worried about there. you wanna know what we were talking about the entire time? you." he leans down and presses a kiss on your forehead. "we were talking about you." he presses another kiss to your cheek, "aoife had brought up how grumpy you looked and we got caught up talking about you." he presses a kiss to the other cheek.

"me?"

"yes you, my grumpy little bug." he presses a soft kiss on your lips.

"there is no-one else, you got that? i adore you. i cannot stand the thought i being with anyone else. it physically pains me. i love you more than i'm actually sure is possible." he presses another kiss to your lips.

"its you and me baby. you and me."

a smile overcomes your lips and you pull joeys face down to kiss him yourself. "i love you," you whisper. "so much."

you both pull yourselves up under the bedcovers and fall asleep to the soft kisses and squeezes you exchange.

ok so maybe you are a little insecure but none of it matters as long as the boy who has his arms wrapped around you was with you.

a/n pt2: ok so i dont really know what happened with the ending so i lowkey js gave up on it. i hope you enjoy!!

[choccy-milky]

(SPOILER WARNING to people who haven't read your story) I SWEAR to GOD!!!! This is borderline anon-hate with my current state of mind after finishing The Raven and The Snake over this weekend. I finished it in two days. I'm a mess. I've even started making a playlist because I feel like I can't properly enter reality again. I'm supposed to be writing my bachelors thesis right now,,,, what have you done to me!!!!

I loved it so so so much, and I am very mad I cannot have a collectors edition hardback version of it on my shelf. There are many many moments that keep replaying in my head, and scenes that I saw so vividly when reading through it. The first imperio moment and Sebs shadow and imperio-green eyes as Clora was held captive, and the entire scene in the repository and how I was physically shaking as I slowly realised that Seb had made a fucking horcrux, and when it was CONFIRMED the GASP i GUSPED. It was so perfect, and so very Sebastian; because OF COURSE he made a horcrux (lowkey hot, sue me).

And the scene where Clive realised Seb straight up just died for his daughter without knowing he would be back, oh my dear lord.

And the idea of Seb being seen as a 'Ruffian' and that little mamas boi bitch of a Henry thinking his hand-me-down-riches, muggle ass would be preferable to a powerful wizard. I secretly wished they didn't have to keep magic a secret so Henry could have known just how inferior he was. AND SEB APPARATING SO FAR UMPH the skilllll.

I could go on and on and on, and maybe I will some other time in your inbox when I have another mental breakdown.

And now I'm also almost done with the small sequel. Just taking a break to bombard you with this unhinged message of mine. And how you draw Sebastian is so fucking good. It's actually what got me reading in the first place. I see your version as being in a completely separate universe from the game, cause the way you draw him just has that something, and it's not the same anywhere else. It certainly doesn't help my obsession that my own boyfriend has the same features and colour palette as him, now I think I might even use your art as inspo for next time we need wardrobe additions.

I love you and I hate you.

Ps. Of course I added Sarah Smiles to the playlist and also Far too young to Die, and Just One Yesterday. If you've any other songs you think match please let me knowww~~

BRUHHHHH I ALMOST FEEL NARCISSISTIC FOR POSTING/RESPONDING TO THIS ASK BC ITS JUST PRAISE BUT DAMN THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭😭😭IM HAPPY YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH!! FORGET WRITING YOUR BACHELORS THESIS, TY FOR WRITING A THESIS ON WHY U LOVED MY FIC SO MUCH AND ALL THE LIL THINGS U ENJOYED BAHAHAHA (love the henry slander) im also glad u like how i draw seb too, and i love how thats what made u start reading it in the first place BAHAH but fr, sometimes i try drawing seb more accurately to his ACTUAL appearance and then im like... Who The Hell is this... and it may sound arrogant since im the artist but my seb is MY seb, yknow...its why i dont like drawing him with other mc's romantically. bc even tho its like, oh look, that's Sebastian Sallow™ from the hit game Hogwarts Legacy™! in my style if i draw him with another MC, its like, NO!!! THATS NOT SEBASTIAN SALLOW™, THATS CLORA'S HUSBAND🤺🤺THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING BOI??🤺🤺🤺 LMAOO but rly TY AGAIN💖💖💖 not only for reading but also taking the time to write all this and let me know how much you enjoyed it🥹🥹i (and all writers, really) always love getting stuff like this!! it also brings me back to when i was writing it, especially now that ive been finished with my fic for a few months, listening to u react to all the diff scenes is making me miss it and giving me nostalgia for my own damn fic FRRR😩 also i love that youre making a playlist LMAOO thats how u know the brainrot truly has a hold on you IM SO SORRY🙏🙏 i actually made a seb and clora playlist like last year and its somewhere in my ask tag if you look through that?? but one song that i can recommend off the top of my head (which i almost made their anthem in that OTP chart) is arms tonite by mother mother...whenever i listen to it i cant help but laugh to myself bc its SO perfect for the chap where seb sacrifices himself....YOULL SEE WHEN U LISTEN😇💖

[gummydummy19]

Month six: Army nurse (October)

Summary: Sy is too grumpy and proud to ask for help, so you do what needs to be done.

Content Warnings: fluff, grumpy sy, bad writing idk lol APOLOGIES

Word Count: 2900+

(this is part six to my series: A year in apartment 6B)

October 4th:

“Can I doodle on your cast?”

It was Sunday. The most sacred day of the week. The weather had been getting gloomier recently, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. Fall was your favourite season by far.

You and Sy were hanging on the couch, 4 hours into the Harry Potter marathon you finally convinced him to partake in.

“Hmm?” He groaned sleepily

“Can I draw something on your cast?” You repeated your earlier request

“Like what?”

“I don’t knoooww…I’m bored” you whined

“You’re kidding right? You nagged my damn ear off about these movies and now you’re bored?”

“Well not bored bored just, I need something else to do while we’re watching.”

Sy huffed as he ran his palm over his face and down his beard, clearly debating you request.

“Oh pretty pretty please with a cherry on top?” You begged

“Fine! But I better not catch you drawing a dick or some shit” he grumbled, making you chuckle as you jumped up to get your markers.

October 10th:

'Syverson, I swear to god if you don't pipe down and eat your damn veggies Im gonna tie you down and make you.'

The man was stubborn as a damn bull, but so were you damnit.

“Is that a promise, darling?” he replied with that damn smirk of his, making you roll your eyes as you tried to hide the inevitable blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Can it and eat” you rushed out, pointing your fork at him.

You wanted to help him. That’s what good friends do. Sure, some days you debated to either push him down the stairs or kiss him silly. But neither of those seemed very friendly of you, so you settled for just helping him.

It didn’t seem to bad at first, but the longer that damn cast stayed on, the grumpier he got.

You understood he was a man of pride, you really did, but there really wasn’t any shame in allowing you to help him from time to time, at least that’s how you saw it, but try explaining that to captain grumpy…

October 17th:

“I said I was fine didn’t I?” Sy grumbled, trying to manoeuvre himself through the kitchen on his crutches.

'Would you stop acting like a damn child?' You yelled

'Then stop treating me like a damn child!'

“Im not! I’m just trying to help!”

“I don’t need your damn help! I’m a grown man and I was doing just fine before you came along”

Okay, that stung.

'Fine!' Have it your way!' you huffed, 'Aika, c'mere girl' you called out, allowing Aika to walk past you and out the door before you slammed it angrily behind you.

You walked through the chilly, orange tinted streets with Aika trotting proudly beside you, glancing up at you every few seconds.

'He such an ass...' you grumbled, hugging yourself tighter as the cold fall breeze huffed passed you, helping you cool off.

Part of you had hoped having Sy back in the apartment would ease your ‘crush’ or whatever it was you had going on. You spent months trying to convince yourself you were just horny and alone. Fantasising about your hot roommate while he was away was just a way of coping. Right?

Except that since Sy came home your feelings had been all over the place. You worried about him like crazy. Which kinda scared you. You were nobody to him, so why did it matter to you wether or not he ate his damn vegetables?

Every time he made a flirty comment, you thought maybe he felt it too, but then when you offered to help him, he’d get all grumpy and cold. Sometimes you just felt ridiculous for even trying.

Your internal rant got interrupted when you felt Aika’s leash tug on your arm, bringing you to a rather abrupt halt.

“Wha- Aika come on.” You called, looking back at where she was currently sitting.

For a second you wondered why she had stopped, but then you noticed something.

She was sitting right next to some run down costume store. Nothing special at first glance, but then you noticed something in the window. For $29.99 including fake stethoscope and the promise of at least 4 jaws on the floor per room you walk into; a mildly sexist, hot nurse outfit.

“What do you think, Aika?” You looked down at your furry companion and you swore she nodded in agreement.

You've never bought something so fast in your entire life.

October 21th:

“what...what are you doing? Is that one of my chopsticks?!' You shrieked as you entered the living room, only mildly horrified by what you were currently looking at.

Syverson was sitting on the couch, well, sitting wasn't exactly the proper term for it. He was damn near folded in half. His big, muscly body bend over his stretched leg with one of your chopsticks in his hand, trying to poke around his cast.

“My foot itches,” he grumbled “Can you please just help?”

The past couple of days you tried avoiding Sy. He hadn’t apologised, neither had you. You figured it was one of those things you best ignored, but as he sat there whining for your help, you couldn’t help but make a snarky comment.

'Oh so, now you need my help?' you commented, rolling your eyes as you stepped closer, Aika still by your side.

You took the chopstick from him and carefully prodded around inside his cast. Sy fell back on the couch, groaning in relief.

'Little lower...just a little-Ah! Right there, sugar! Fucking hell...'

His words alone made your cheeks glow bright red, let alone the damn sounds he was making...You desperatly searched for a change of topic, when a certain scent hit your nostrils.

'Hey uh...Sy? When did u last shower?' You asked, retreating the chopstick and giving his big toe a poke. Sy propped himself up to look at you, raising his eyebrow at your comment.

“A proper shower? Must have been months.” He replied, chuckling at your grossed out face

'I've washed the important bits, don't you worry, sugar.' He winked

“Judging by this smell, I seriously doubt it.' you replied, trying to ignore yet another one of his flirty comments. Sometimes it felt like he knew what went on in your brain. Every dream, every fantasy. It felt like he saw right through you.

“It ain’t that bad.” He said, just when Aika stuck her nose near his foot, quickly retreating once she smelled his cast.

“See that? Even our dog won’t go near it!”

Normally, Sy would have been quick with a response, but he was busy trying to ignore the way his chest fluttered when you said ‘our dog’.

'You smell ripe, old man. This could be used as a fucking nuclear weapon. One whiff of this and the entire middle east would wave a white flag in a second.' you stated

'Hey, watch your mouth young lady!' Sy shot back with a raised finger.

'I could help you, if you want.' you carefully suggested

'Help me with what?' He grinned, knowing exactly what you were saying.

'Help you wash...'

'My important bits?' he teased

'Oh forget it' you groaned, turning away making Sy laugh

Before you could get too far, Sy got ahold of your wrist and tugged you back, making you sit down next to him.

“If you really wanted to see my dick that bad, you could’a just asked, sugar”

'I'm just worried your dick is growing a second dick"

That actually made him chuckle. The sound made your heart soar a little and you tried to ignore it.

“Well both of my dicks are fine, thank you very much”

He sat up, his face mere centimeters from yours. His fingers danced along your face, brushing some stray hairs out of his way. His voice got real low and quiet when he said,

'Besides, I'm not allowed to get this cast wet.'

Your eyes grew wide, as they gazed into his devilish ones.

He was doing this on purpose. He knew how he made you feel, the effect he had on you, he knew.

It took ever fibre in your body to shake yourself out of it.

“Okay, first of all, I meant when the cast comes off and second of all you’d be wearing underwear you moron” you stated, “and you damn well knew I meant that.”

Sy tried to hide his grin as he looked down and gave Aika a pet on her head.

“Why do you insist on helping me so much?” He asked, rather serious all of a sudden

“Because, well…I don’t know, we’re roommates” you mumbled,

“Doesn’t mean anything” he said dryly

That pissed you off a bit.

“Well, it does to me.” You replied, “Your family lives far away, and I know for a fact you’re far too proud to actually ask anyone else to come and help you.”

Sy didn’t interrupt you, so you continued, getting a little more riled up as you spoke.

“I live here now, wether you like it or not. It might not mean shit to you, but it means something to me. I’m a good roommate and an even better friend. Im not gonna let you rot away. I wanna help you because I’m a decent fucking person and it’s the bare minimum I can do.” You rambled before adding, “Oh and truth be told, Sy, I figured you’d do the same for me if the roles were reversed, but I’m strongly debating that right now.”

You don’t know when exactly you got upset, but suddenly you wanted to be anywhere but here.

“I’m gonna take Aika for her walk now if you-”

“Could you please drive me to the hospital on Monday?” Sy interrupted you

“What?”

“My cast comes off on Monday, I’d appreciate it if you could drive me.” He stated again

“I uh, yeah sure. I can get a day off from work.”

“Thanks” he muttered, scratching the back of his head

And just like that, Sy had finally apologised to you.

October 23rd:

“My colleagues are throwing a halloween party next week, you should come. Get out the house, socialise, that sorta thing?”

You were driving Sy back from the hospital, where he had finally gotten his cast removed. The doctor said he needed at least 4 weeks of physio-therapy, but he should be fine, which was a huge relief.

“Not really a big fan of parties, sugar.” He replied “plus, I aint got no custume.”

“You have your army clothes, don’t you? I could splatter some ketchup on you if you want.” You joked, making him crack a smile, showing off his fangs in the process.

“Or a vampire…” you mumbled, staring at his pearly whites.

“What?”

“Uh, n-nothing!” You replied, focussing back on the road, “So what do you say, huh? I think a party would do you good, Captain grumpy.”

“Hmm…what are you going as?” He asked, brow raised as per usual.

“Ill tell you if you let me cut your hair.” You suggested

“Like hell! You ain’t touching my hair, woman!”

“What if you just let me wash it then?”

“You really wanna get me naked, don’t you?” He joked, making you role your eyes

“I meant over the sink but whatever, dumbass”

“Fine, ill let you wash my hair if you tell me what you’re going as.”

“And let me cut it?!”

“Okay fine! And Ill let you cut it! Just tell me already.”

You smirked at your small victory before saying, “I’m going as a nurse”.

Sy’s eyes twinkled at the thought of you in a nurse outfit

“Ill go with you if you wear it while washing my hair” he smirked

“You’re an actual dog, Syverson.”

October 28th:

“Are you sure you know what your doing?” Sy asked unsure

He was propped on one of your high chairs over the sink at the kitchen island. You had a pair of scissors and a bunch of hair products scattered all over the marble top.

“Sure, can’t be that hard, can it?” You smiled, “now just relax”

You checked the temperature of the water on your hand before gentle running the tap over Sy’s dark head of hair. Your free hand softly wove through his locks, nails massing into his scalp.

“Oh fuck…” he muttered under his breath

“Too hot?” You asked

“N-no no, s’perfect sugar. Feels nice.”

His eyes were closed and you could see the tension seep out of his body as you rinsed out his hair.

A proud smile tugged at your lips with every appreciative hum that came from him.

You studied his face carefully as you took your time washing and conditioning his hair. Not a lot was said, but you didn’t mind. The silence allowed you to look at his beautiful face. Every scar, every spot, every hair. He was so gorgeous it almost hurt your eyes. Peace was a good look on him.

When his hair was all rinsed out, you gently towel-dried it, before draping the towel over his shoulders and grabbing the scissors.

Your fingers tangled through his locks as you studies his hair carefully, trying to figure out a starting point.

“Alright so, I’ll just trim up the sides a little and just shorten the general length. Sound good?”

“Whatever you say, Sugar…” Sy hummed, making you grin.

You were enjoying his compliant behaviour until you accidentally closed your first a bit too tight, pulling the root of his hair so hard his head yanked back a little, making Sy groan in what you presumed was pain.

“Oh shit, sorry!” You rushed out, soothing his scalp gently over the sore spot.

Sy let out a yelp that turned into half a groan before it became a couch as he jumped up and faced away from you.

“I-uh…gotta go to the bathroom real quick, I’ll be right back.” He mumbled before walking off, pulling the towel off his shoulders and holding it against his crotch…

…hmm…weird?

October 31rd:

“I just don’t wanna go alone, Sy, come on! I don’t know a bunch of people there”

You yelled from down the hall. Sy was sitting on the couch in the living room, the same spot he’d been sitting all day.

His leg had been killing him all day. You just knew it.

Ofcourse he would never tell you because first of all, he can’t stand it when you’re right and second of all he didn’t wanna ruin her night. If he told her, she’ll stay home and miss the party, and he didn’t want that.

“You’ve been sitting on the couch all day! It’s gonna do you good to get out of the house” you spoke, standing closer to him now.

He finally looked up from the tv to see you standing in your nurse costume, stethoscope hanging over your shoulders, knee high socks hugging your thighs, heels just the right height…

It’s a shame you’re not a real nurse because Sy’s was definitely experiencing some shortness of breath…

“Nah, sorry Sugar, but you go have fun” he said, trying his best not to sound like he was in excruciating pain “I’m gonna go take a shower”

“A cold one”, he silently added.

“Fine, I’ll see you later then.” You watched as he made his way to the bathroom

It was clear from the way he was walking that he wasn’t doing good.

You heard him turn on the water as your rummaged through your purse, double checking if you had everything you needed.

After doing a final mirror check, you were about to walk out the door but you were stopped by a loud thud and a yell coming from the bathroom.

“Sy?!” You yelled out a little panicked, but you didn’t get any response

Before you could stop yourself you rushed to the bathroom and barged in, seeing Sy laying on the bathroom floor in nothing but his boxers. (A pair that looked a little familiar to you for some reason, but that’s besides the point)

“Sy, what the hell?! Are you okay??” You rushed to his side, quickly checking him for injuries

“Damn leg won’t do what I want it to” he groaned out

“How many painkillers have you taken today?”

“Took my last one this morning…m’all out…” he mumbled

“Sy you should have told me, I could have stopped by the pharmacy!”

“I’m a grown ma-”

“Yeah yeah you’re a grown man, I’ve heard it!” You interrupted “a grown man would have made sure he had enough pain meds!”

“I have some extra’s in the cupboard for emergencies.” You said, “I’m gonna get you some and then I’m gonna run you a bath and you’re gonna let me help you for once.”

“You don’t have to, really…”

“Oh relax, you can keep your boxers on but I’m not letting you shower by yourself when you can barely stand”

“What about your party?” He asked

“What about it?” You replied calmly as you walked out the room to get his meds.

A good 20 minutes later the smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon filled the room along with the calming sounds of the water.

At first he had whined about not needing a bath bomb but you just knew he secretly enjoyed being pampered as much as you loved pampering him.

You were sitting next to the tub, absentmindedly running your loofah over his muscular back when suddenly, amidst the silence, you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

“What’s so funny, Sugar?” He asked, raising his brow as he stared at you.

“You finally got me to give you a bath in the stupid costume…”

A/N: AAAAAAAAA ITS FINALLY POSTED IM SO SORRY PLS DONT HATE ME IM SORRY IF ITS BAD ALSO JDHHDUZFZSFXFC Im currently on vacation and I swear I wrote like 95 procent of this on my phone at the pool and Im now finally posted this from my moms laptop so HAVE MERCY ON ME PLSSSS xoxo as always comments and reblogs are very highly appreciated!

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[t1oui]

can I please get your thoughts on rosekiller raising Luna?? I've been obsessed with it lately and you've mentioned it before I want to know more about your headcannons!!!

AAAAAA OKAY im obsessed with them too but i think this has been established. just

first of all think canon luna but 10x more unhinged bc rosekiller are not doing her any favors in the "having morals" and "acting normal" departments (we love that for them)

BARTY CALLS LUNA PRINCESS. i am so... no i cant even lie and say im normal about this it's just a fact of life. he calls her princess and he treats her like one too.

they probably commit crimes or something (if you want more info on this search "criminal au" on my blog bc i have so many thoughts... there's also like 3 things under the tag "criminal au 2 electric boogaloo" lol)

this tag on one of my posts. it says a lot

back to what i said about luna being treated like a princess: does she dress weird? yes. but her clothes and necklaces and the radishes she makes earrings out of are TOP TIER QUALITY bc their girl deserves that.

the three of them wear friendship bracelets

what luna calls them depends on how she's feeling - sometimes she calls them uncle barty and uncle evan, sometimes papa and dad, sometimes just barty and evan

luna gets her offputting gaze from evan and it shows

somehow she's actually such a well-rounded child?? absolutely nobody expects this

rosekiller encourage luna's interests!!!

the three of them cuddle a lot, especially luna and barty.

luna gets all the hogwarts gossip and reports it back to barty via owl

barty 100% teaches luna to drive at age 10 (evan is sitting in the backseat hanging on for dear life)

barty teaches luna how to pickpocket and evan teaches her potions (he doesn't talk about pandora and reg that often, but he makes sure she's got their skill sets)

autistic luna getting a new pair of noise-cancelling headphones. barty and evan helping her cover them in stickers. barty asking to try them out. luna and evan getting him his own pair and covering them in stickers for him :))

(barty cries)

(he actually cries a lot bc "hey, it's okay to cry, luna. no, i'm not crying because of that card you just gave me, but the drawing was really nice and i'm going to cherish it forever")

(she sees right through him but she doesn't say so)

whoever luna ends up with gets a very serious shovel talk from barty and evan (evan does most of the talking, barty just sits there glaring at luna's partner).

ginny finds it funny as hell. anybody else is scared shitless. (this gets ginny a good rep with barty and evan.)

they're soooo soft for each other.

i'm a personal fan of luna and cho being friends and i have a feeling evan and barty would, inexplicably, love her.

barty and evan hate sirius. sirius hates them back. the order of the phoenix has an unspoken rule that the three of them are not allowed in a room together.

barty is italian and luna & ev both know italian for him, so they speak italian with each other a lot.

muggle au rosekiller raising luna!! they hold a special place in my heart. barty and evan run an italian restaurant together and luna is a waitress there. (so is harry.)

yk how snape treats harry like shit bc he hated james? yeah, barty and evan treat harry well bc regulus loved james. (also bc they don't take out their anger on children but mostly bc being mean to someone who reminds them of regulus would hurt too much.)

i swear i have more thoughts about them but i'm totally blanking right now so uhh... feel free to send more asks and i will reply when i have thoughts !! thanks for the ask :)

[mylarena]

i dont see enough soulmate aus so. inspired by this post by @hyperfixationwizard, soulmate au where drawings and ink on skin show up on ur soulmates skin (not scars bc there would be so fucking much going on with that and im not gonna write abt itdgthfgh)

anyways. soap has always love doodling- with anything. pencil, pen, crayon, marker, whatever he could get his hands on. he’d doodle on anything and everything. the walls (when he was a kid, mainly), paper, cardboard, desks in school, napkins... but by far, his favorite was to draw on his own skin. the thought of his work showing up on someone else, someone he was practically made for and they for him- something that they could share, something that they could keep secret and hold close to their chests- it was enough to make him giddy.

so, he doodled. a pretty flower he saw on his walk to school, curling around his wrist. a bird perched on the bench across from him at the park, taking flight on the back of his hand. the stray cat that hung out on his porch, draped across his thigh. sometimes if he didnt have a notebook with him, messy schematics and notes for devices- no, ma, thats not an explosive, he swears- scrawled on his forearm.

he never sees anything from his soulmate- he checks every single day for any new marks, any words, but he never finds any. still, he keeps drawing. it doesnt usually get to him, the fact that his soulmate doesnt give him responses, but sometimes he cant help but think too much. he wonders if his soulmate likes the drawings, which leads to the thought of them not liking them, or finding them annoying, or if they think theyre bad.

one day, he caves under his thoughts and writes his first question to his soulmate, right under a bundle of primroses- “do you want me to stop?”

he waits anxiously for hours, not knowing if he’ll be able to feel the reply, or if he has to look for it, or if there even will be one-

then he feels it- a sort of pins-and-needles sensation on his left arm. he frantically rolls up his sleeve and his eyes are immediately drawn to the letters that appear on his skin. once the writing stops, he stares with wide eyes at the single word left behind- shaky, smudged, and a bit runny in some spots-

“no.”

and so he doesnt stop.

he keeps drawing, slowly moving from small little doodles of primroses on his arms and songbirds on his hands to sprawling meadows that wrap around his forearms and ravens spreading their wings across his thighs. sometimes he adds words- always short encouragements, positive quotes, or funny thoughts he has. he never gets responses, but he knows that his soulmate is still around by the occasional ink smudge that appears. anytime one appears, he incorporates them into a drawing. sometimes its a silly little doodle, and other times he spends hours creating beautiful, complex landscapes centered around them.

for years, his soulmate holds their silence. soap doesnt mind. he knows that they appreciate his art and words. at least, thats the thought he holds onto. he never holds it against his soulmate- the whole not-responding thing. hes well aware that he can be a lot to handle; hes heard it constantly from the majority of the people in his life. he just hopes that maybe his soulmate can tolerate him more than most.

he was 14 when things changed.

he had gotten home from school, completely ignoring his parents in the kitchen and opting to power walk to his room. it had been a shitty day; he had overslept and missed the bus, causing him to be late to class, and then some dickwads from the year above him decided that he was a good target to snag lunch money from, (really? stealing a kids lunch money? why would they pick something so fucking cliche? god, get some fresh material,) and to top it all off he got a shit grade on his book report.

as usual, his solution to a bad mood is to draw, get his emotions out on a page instead of letting them linger in his mind. unlike usual, though, he decides to bypass his notebook and instead grabs a pen, chooses a clear spot on his arm.

it took a while, but he finally ran out of steam to continue- it had been nearly two hours since he began. he was about to walk over to his bed and flop face down into his pillow when he felt it- the pins-and-needles of words being written that he had only felt once before. his eyes zeroed in on his arm, right under the drawing he had finished.

“two goldfish are in a tank. one turns to the other and asks, ‘do you know how to drive this thing?’”

soap snorts, more due to the situation than the shitty joke itself- and rushes to grab his pen again. no chance he was letting this opportunity slip by.

“why was the strawberry crying?”

“why?”

“because he was in a jam.”

and so the night continued like that- they exchanged shitty jokes back and forth for hours that night, up until soap was called for dinner.

[lock3d-n-load3d]

Alrighty, that should be this blog set up. Still workin' out a few kinks 'n all but now you lot can send us some asks. For context, heres an image of us that should be on the header though its glitching on our end.

From left to right, these are:

Firebug, our resident Pyro. They like going on treks across the badlands, and enjoy bugs. Apparently we're all bugs to 'em. I'm a carpenter bee in their eyes.

Reese, thats me. I'm the one typing all this. Do I really gotta explain myself?

René, our damned Spy whose held me at gunpoint too many times. Hes good at what he does though.

Stanislav or Stas, our Heavy. I havent spoke with 'im much. He aint much of a talker. Though I've heard of a certain someone here who might like him.

Archie, the Sniper. Not much to say about him.

John, the Scout. Hes like a rat sometimes, and has a superiority complex worse than our doc to boot, but hes a good kid.

Terry, our Soldier. Likes planes, surprisingly. He also likes gambling. We've banned 'im from poker night though because hes a sore loser.

Demobot, more of a mystery than Firebug. Though I usually keep him in fightin' form. Hes a robot afterall. Though I swear we were meant to be gettin' a human. Ah well, Demo is a good'n, even though he scares me sometimes.

Rafel, our Medic. Hes crazy, obsessed with some Francis guy, and is the one guy you should avoid talking casually about birds to unless you want an hour long mininum infodump about whatever bird you point out to him. Same goes for him talking about said Francis guy. Or do, it might mean he doesnt kidnap one of us so he can ramble as much as he wants again.

'N thats all of us! Hoping for some asks or the like soon

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

Hello! Hi! Mod Epi here! First ever RP blog of mine and its all my TF2 loadouts. Asks will be answered weekly, though any mod updates will go under the #Epi's Announcements tag and all of me talking will be in blue, because why not. Also me talking will go under #Epi's deranged rambles and any asks for me will go under #Epi talks to the voices

Other tags include:

#Firebug answers - questions that Firebug answers

#Reese answers - questions that Reese answers

#René answers - questions that René answers

#Stas answers - questions that Stas answers

#Archie answers - questions that Archie answers

#John answers - questions that John answers

#Terry answers - questions that Terry answers

#Demobot answers - questions that Demobot answers

#Rafel answers - questions that Rafel answers

#Team talks - one or more of the team talking

#Rafel's bird infodumping - Rafel talking extensively about birds

#Firebug's doodles - Firebug's drawings, usually of bugs

#Team answers - when the entire team answers an ask, usually only applies if 5 or more are asked at once because I want to keep my fingers intact

And there you go, thats all the tags. As of now this blog is fully text-only except for if theres any Firebug doodles, though I'm planning to try grab SFM at some point so I can make some scenes and the like, or I'll just use loadout.tf for it I dont know.

Something else to note is that SOME asks may be a bit on the more suggestive side, which means they will be under the #Askers are horny tag. Which also means yes I will answer suggestive asks if I feel comfortable with them. I will not be prioritising these asks over normal ones.

[bababaka]

Tell me a story. And i'll tell you a thousand more - Bade x reader

Summary: Hollywood Arts, the most privilleged arts school in the USA. And amongst many young talented teens, you were chosen to enter it. To be study there and be part of it. You couldn't believe it.

"Holy shit! I got in!"

This will change your life! And you are determined to make the most of it.

Warnings: swear words, not edited completely, i just needed to get this out of drafts, i will later edit.. And... that's it i guess? Like, bullying, mean teachers, but nothing much i guess. Oh, i also used google translate. So yeah. Have fun.

Author's note: so, i had this in my drafts for a while. I always had a crush on these two, and nobody wrote a fic with those two that fulfilled my need for them, so... here i am. Trying to mash my thoughts together and write something at least nice or ok. Im trying to write well. Don't have high expectations, im not a seasoned writer yet. Might never be. Also, unfortunately for me and you guys, this is a multichapter fanfiction. Sooo, you'll have to bear with me with slooooow updates. And im sorry for that. Anyways, enough chit chat, i present you, the chapter one to this mess.

Chapter 1 : I got in!

“Hollywood Arts”. The most privileged arts school in the United States of America. Only the most talented people passed the test. The list of competitors was huge. But, here you were, Y/N Y/L/N, in front of the school gates. You had passed the test, thousands of people competing against each other, and you had succeeded.

Honestly, it seemed too good to be true. The majesty of the construction, students, certainly in their second and third year, full of confidence, dancing, singing, playing, drawing, acting and even proclaiming poetry.

This was too much to digest.

You could barely believe it when you read the email, your mother cheering and shouting in the background, while you remained frozen staring at the computer, reading and re-reading your school admission.

The best arts school in the country.

You entered.

Holy shit! I entered!

You have always been passionate about dancing.

It all started when your mother caught you in your room dancing to “hips don’t lie” in a completely clumsy and enthusiastic way. She then decided to take you to dance classes. You were 4 years old.

Years passed and you fell in love.

Dancing was expressing yourself. Tell a story. Saying what words were sometimes unable to express. Sadness. Happiness. Emotion. Desire. Anger. Feelings in their purest form.

And then, you discovered ballet.

Ballet made your heart race in a way nothing else did. The slow and elegant steps, fast and rigorous. Dancing made you feel alive, happy, ecstatic.

At the height of your 10 years, watching a small part of the film your mother was watching, Black Swan, before her noticing your presence and kicking you out to your room, you found yourself trapped, in a trance, enchanted by the dance, by the way how the actress moved, how she leapt into the air and landed softly on the stage.

The next day, you begged your mother to take you to ballet classes.

At first, it was difficult. The dance classes previously were fun, relaxed. Here, they asked for excellence. Your teacher was strict and classmates were mean. There were many days when you came home crying or upset. Your mother tried to change classes, convince you to go back to dance classes, but you were stubborn. And you were more than determined to show everyone, your teacher, your classmates, that you were good, that you could be the best. So you did what you could, trained and trained, danced until your toes grew calluses and you could no longer support yourself properly.

It was difficult, but now, more than ever, you saw the results of your efforts. Oh, how you would love to see the faces of the girls who tried to get into the school but failed. You did it.

#Suckit

You would love to rub it in each of their faces. But, you didn't have time for that. What you had to do was take a deep breath, enter those gates and find where your first class would be.

Here we go.

The hallways were crazy, lost students like you walked by, friends who hadn't seen each other for the entire vacation and others who argued, dissatisfied with the classes they fell into.

Although you felt tempted to ask one of the students, you thought it would be safer to ask an adult. Supervisor, coordinator, any adult. A teacher, janitor.

You didn't trust students, especially at a talent school, the ego and arrogance must be astronomical.

You watched Glee. You didn't want to end up in a crackhouse.

But unfortunately, the hallways were full of teenagers, and there was no teacher, sign, or voices coming out of speakers magically guiding you in the direction of your next class.

You look around, searching for someone who was as lost as you. You didn't want to be the only idiot who didn't know their way around.

You find something similar.

A boy your age, talking and gesturing. He seemed to be asking a paralyzed girl for directions. She didn't even seem to be paying attention.

You didn't know exactly why she was perplexed, maybe he was saying absurd things, but you wouldn't be surprised if the cause of the paralysis was the boy's beauty.

He was beautiful. Dark skin, brown hair, delicate features, not to the point of being androgynous, but of being harmonious, pleasing to the eye. A relaxed brown look, although it is becoming confused and dull.

You decided to step in and save the girl the embarrassment of being caught drooling, and, as a bonus, get the information you so desperately wanted. The direction for your next class, acting.

– Excuse me, uh, I'm lost. Could you help me?

This seemed to work. The boy's posture relaxed, and the girl, in turn, came out of her trance and began to glare at you, shooting lasers from her eyes.

The boy smiled. And, wow. He had incredibly white teeth, and it looked like you were the only girl in the world, the tiny curve of his mouth pulled you in like he was the center of the Earth. The look that had a charm, brown like melted chocolate and all you wanted was to dive in and get lost in them.

Perhaps you have entered a trance.

But as soon as he started talking, you forced yourself to pay attention and not make a fool of yourself.

– I'm also lost. I was asking her – he turned to the “laser beam look”, who immediately stopped with the murderous expression. – But I don’t think you know, do you?

– What? I know! Of course I know! Nobody knows more than me! – and then she started walking, supposedly in the direction of the room where the boy had his class. – You're a first year, right? – she asked the pretty boy, completely ignoring you.

He looked at you sideways.

– Uh, yes, yes, I am. – She nods, and turns forward, determined, as she starts talking without stopping.

She says her name, Trina Vega, how she got into school, how she is so talented at so many things, how popular she was, and that they would make a great couple. At this part, you were shocked, eyes widening quickly, mouth falling open. She was… direct.

And maybe a little clueless, considering that the boy started to walk more slowly, putting distance between him and Trina, and standing next to you.

He leans into your side.

– She's a little… eccentric…

You laugh.

– That may be an understatement. – You look at Trina, who continued to talk. – Look, she hasn't even noticed that you're not paying attention, or even close to her.

It was his turn to laugh.

– Yeah… – He clears his throat. – I'm Beck, nice to meet you. – He stops for a moment, and extends his hand to you.

You say your name and take his hand, shaking it. Soon he started walking again so as not to lose sight of Trina, who was still talking.

– You’re a first year too, right? – You nod in response. – Yeah, I imagined it. Which course did you enroll in?

– Dance, more specifically, ballet. You?

– Cool. I came to do drama, acting.

– Cool. – You smile, he reciprocates.

For a moment, you forgot what you were saying, going and even thinking. He was cute, handsome and had a nice voice to listen to, something rare coming from a teenager. The short hair thrown to the side, looked soft, made you want to run your fingers through the strands.

The cute boy's small, happy smile was damaging your brain, because the world disappeared around him and you couldn't think about anything else.

Until, finally, Trina realized that Beck wasn't close to her, much less listening to what she was saying.

– Hey! – she called. You turned to her, who had a frown that turned into a forced smile. – We arrived, and you didn’t tell me your name. – She leans over and smiles at Beck.

You were ignored, again.

– Oh, it's Beck. And this is. – He tries to introduce you, say you name and be polite. But Trina interrups him, muttering “whatever” and heading back to the door.

Well, that was nice.

– Sikowits, I brought two lost students. – Then the bell rings, and Trina turns to Beck. – I'll see you around, Beck. – He blinked. And gone, probably to his own class.

– Please don't. – Beck says, with a pained expression. But it was too late, Trina couldn't hear him anymore, or at least, she pretended not to.

You sympathized with the situation.

It seems that being too handsome had its downsides.

His attention returned to the teacher who was at the door.

Bald, messy hair and beard, a slightly unbalanced look, layer after layer of clothing, he had a sloppy style. Maybe he was a hippie. Or just weird. It was probably both.

The hippie professor smiled, in a warm, disturbing way (you seriously wondered if that man was sane. You hoped he was).

– Be welcome! What are your names?

Beck withdraws into himself, becoming shy. How cute.

– Beck Oliver.

The please-don't-be-crazy teacher leans over to look at a list that was laid out on the table. The list of student names.

He turns to the boy beside him.

– Oliver? Alberto Oliver?

Beck puts his hand on the back of his head, looks at you sideways, and nods.

– Yes, but I prefer Beck.

– Understood! Come in, come in. – He calls Beck with his hand enthusiastically, the boy enters and sits in one of the chairs. Then, the bald professor turns to you. – Your name?

You say your full name.

– Oh yes. It's here too. Come in and sit down. The class is about to start. I just have to find the lost and innocent sheep that are lost in the corridors.

You made a face when you heard the phrase… He sounded so weird that way…

As long as he didn't kill or abuse anyone and was a good teacher, you wouldn't have a problem.

You entered the room and deciding quickly and safely, you turned to Beck, hoping to find an empty seat next to the boy. But, as expected, all the seats evaporated, and Oliver found himself surrounded by people, mostly girls.

You sighed and sat in the front, next to a girl with red hair (it didn't look natural, but you'd ask later) who had a friendly smile on her face. It seemed like a good option.

You sat down, and introduced yourself. The girl smiled, with her white teeth and a gentle and innocent aura formed around her.

– I'm Cat!

You smiled, enchanted by the redhead's cuteness.

– Cat? Like the animal? – the girl walked away, running her hand through her hair, her brow furrowed.

– What? What do you mean by that?

– No! I'm just saying that cat sounds like a kitten. – You explained yourself, nervously. You didn't want to scare the girl.

– Kittens? I like kittens! They're so cute!

You let out the breath you were holding. Cat returned to the bubble of innocence and happiness that she was at the beginning.

– Yes, they are.

Then, the professor, Sikowitz, if that was really what Trina called him, came back into the room, with a coconut and straw in one hand, and sunglasses in the other.

– Well done, class! I'm not going to ask you to introduce yourselves. You will improvise a scene. You will play the person next to you, I don't care if you don't know each other. Create a character and then live the character!

The Hippie Man asked them one by one to come forward in front of the class.

There were some interesting and funny monologues.

A black boy, with dreadlocks, a beautiful smile and lots of charm, played a shy nerd who stuttered around girls and had a puppet who made derogatory comments about the situation.

The scene was hilarious. Especially when he started interacting with the students while in character.

There were some very good ones.

Beck, who, to your surprise, played one of the girls surrounding him, and, unfortunately for Sikowitz, used the teacher as his scene partner. He was visibly uncomfortable. And the girl too. Shrinking in her chair as Beck performed, exposing how irritating she was.

She'll probably leave the boy alone after this.

Probably.

There was also another girl, brown hair, black leather jacket and pants. She was incredible. Before getting into character, she seemed closed off, grumpy, with a frown on her face. But, as soon as the scene began, her entire expression and body language changed to a more clumsy and agitated girl like a nice but extremely clumsy girl.

And other performances could improve. You were part of the last group. See, you were a dancer, not an actress. You knew you had to take acting classes, but that didn't mean it was your strong point.

You had to play Cat. You weren't horrible, but you could have done better. When he had to face all the attentive eyes of your classmates and the teacher, a chill took over your stomach and a pressure to not make mistakes was placed in your mind. At first, it was difficult, but as the scene developed, your performance improved.

As the last student finished presentation, the teacher stood up, applauding.

– Very good! You have to learn and perfect the ability to transform into a character in a short time, to analyze your character and to transform yourself in the snap of a finger. – He snapped his fingers right in your face, you jerked away reflexively, startling yourself. He smiled. And the bell rang. – Anyway. That's all for today. You even had the chance to socialize and get to know each other. – he said as everyone got up and left. You did the same, gathered your things and stood up. You were at the door when you heard him sigh and murmur:

– Ah, being young, I can remember what it was like to have dreams and hope.

…You were sure this wasn't normal…

You heard your name. You turned around, and saw red hair, you looked down, realizing that Cat was smaller than you. That made her even cuter.

– What class do you have now?

You searched your pockets, in the slim hope of finding your schedule. After long, embarrassing moments, you found it and read it out loud.

– Ballet.

– Oh, I have singing lessons now – Cat seemed to deflate. But only for a few seconds. – Do you want to sit with me at lunch?

You responded quickly, jumping at the opportunity of not having to be alone during lunch.

– Yes of course! – You looked around, remembering Beck, hoping to see him, but in vain, he had already disappeared into the corridors. But, you didn't let that bother, or sadden you, you would invite him to sit with you at lunch, in the low probability of being able to do so before the boy was bombarded by people.

– OK! Until lunch then!

Finding the ballet class was easy. You just followed the smell of pain, tears, deceit and extreme competition.

…Actually, you just followed the girls in buns and leotards.

You entered the room, or rather dance salon. The floor was smooth and black, a large mirror covering the entire wall, a large speaker and a piano at the back of the room.

The teacher, apparently, was not there. But the students were already stretching. Some in groups, others alone.

You saw some faces you had already anticipated. The rich, mean girls who were born doing ballet. The girl obsessed and completely focused on doing her best, making her potentially meaner than the other girls. The pretty boy who, because he does ballet, thinks he's cool and that everyone is in love with him. The boy who feels the need to say all the time that he's not gay, he just likes to express himself through dancing!

However, you also saw other faces you hadn't seen before, and that was a pleasant surprise. Dealing with the same types of people became boring.

Hollywood Arts would be a beginning, not only of your artistic career, but of a social life in ballet. I didn't want to ruin your high school experience with drama, toxicity, and cliques.

But unfortunately, you didn't have the best start. Because while you were analyzing and admiring everything around you, your teacher arrived, and it was then that you noticed, everyone was stretched out and dressed appropriately, while you were still standing, wearing jeans, sneakers and a shirt. No stretching.

It was instantaneous. Not only did the teacher's eyes land on you. The entire room was focused on you.

Shit. You flinched.

– You're late. – The teacher says, approaching you, like a predator approaches its prey. A panther, walking elegantly and silently, with total firmness and confidence, about to attack a beautiful and vulnerable little rabbit. The panther knows that the rabbit is already dead. Only a matter of time for death to actually occur, until the panther snatches the prey.

The bunny becomes alert, realizing the danger. Look around. Pay attention to your ears and sharpen your vision.

– The bell hasn't rung yet and class starts in 3 minutes.

The panther stops. Paying attention to the victim's movements, but at no time revealing their position or losing their calm.

– Exactly. 3 minutes and you're like this. – She points to your clothes, with clear disdain. The rabbit flinches, sensing claws wrapping around its fur. – Without the leotard and without stretching. Unprepared. I start my class on time, warm-ups start when the bell rings. So, miss late, you have – the teacher glanced briefly at the clock and turned her eyes to you. – 2 minutes to put on your clothes and stretch, otherwise you will go to detention and will not be able to participate in this class.

The rabbit begins to struggle, panic arising as it sees the possibility of death right in front of it.

– But just to get to the bathroom takes a minute.

The teacher smiles, in a sadistic and amused way.

– Then, I suggest you run.

Crunch! Fur turning scarlet, sharp fangs tearing flesh, paws playing with the limp, lifeless body.

You took off. Hearing giggles and one last image of the teacher's smile

The predator was sated. For now.

You admitted it. You've never stretched so quickly and inefficiently, nor were you so frivolous when adjusting your tights.

But, it was what you had to offer at that moment.

– Miss late! You have exceeded your time of 2 minutes, but as I am in a good mood I will let it pass. Let it serve as a warning to everyone. Be prepared BEFORE class starts. Otherwise, well, you don't want to find out. Now, don't just stand there, join the warm-up!

And you fumbled a little out of pure nervousness, and heard some giggling around, but after a few minutes, you were already in your element.

The warm-up was brutal.

Yes, of course, you already had years of ballet, but still, the teacher seemed to want you to kill yourself in the warm-up. Because it lasted 40 minutes.

To you, it felt like two hours.

Damn, who warms up for 40 minutes? Well, apparently, your new teacher.

When the warm-up, which lasts longer and is heavier than you're used to, finally ends, you're sweating profusely and out of breath. Some were in the same state as you, others were worse, and a group of girls were in better shape, they were sweaty and out of breath, but still, visibly more composed.

The teacher waited in silence for a few moments. Just analyzing all the students.

The teacher approaches the group of 5 who were sitting on the floor, taking in lots of air, barely avoiding getting sick. Some were coughing.

– Pathetic. – She said, her lips lifting in disgust and disdain. – What would your names be?

The group fumbled among themselves, saying full names, others just trying and failing in between, preferring to breathe. One boy almost threw up.

The teacher put her hands in the air and waved them. Exasperated.

– Stop, stop, stop. Are you by any chance animals? Don't know how to speak one at a time? – she sighs. – What were you thinking when they accepted you? Hmph… Disgusting…

– Why does every ballet teacher have to be mean? – a girl next to you commented quietly. You laughed quietly, bitterly, as you watched the teacher insult the poor young teens on the floor.

– It must be something they need to have on their resume. “Expert in torturing teenagers.” – You responded in an equally silent tone.

– Also, didn’t she have a vote in the admission of students? Why does she complain about the school's admissions system if she is part of it?

You shrugged.

– Some evil plan to destroy our self-esteem?

The girl quickly turned to you, a small smile on her face and an outstretched hand, as subtle as she could without drawing the teacher's attention.

– I'm Daisy.

You introduced yourself.

And in mutual and silent agreement, they turned to the teacher. You feared what would happen if the teacher caught the students talking.

Your attention returned to the scene and you only heard the last two names of the group. All red, from shame or exhaustion, you didn't know. The teacher didn't answer anything, just left them on the floor, recovering, and started walking around the room, quickly passing in front of each student.

– You are… Pathetic. Some more than others. But – she made a show of sighing loudly. – As you were accepted, I will make you true artists, dancers. You must breathe ballet, move with elegance and dexterity at all times, and face the world, the stage without fear. The classes will be difficult, long and will demand determination and strength from each person. And I will not hesitate to take punitive action against those who are not taking this seriously. Because, as your teacher, your performance in the future will reflect on my image. Therefore, now they will imitate me. I'm the best, and so will you.

The teacher pauses, and you can hear the tension in the air, the nervousness and everyone shifting in their seats, anxious.

– Am I understood?

Several voices sounded throughout the room, including yours. All saying yes. The teacher smiled.

– Good. Now, let's start the class.

You swallowed hard, already feeling tired, but still, strangely excited. It would be a challenge, and you loved difficult things.

After painful and sadistic hours (yes, hours!), the class was finally released for lunch, and then afternoon classes.

The teacher informed them that the ballet class had an exclusive bathroom and that if they wanted (but, from the disgusted way she sounded, it seemed more like a requirement) they could take a shower there.

You perked up when you heard this, and most of the students did too. It would be horrible to have to continue at school with all that crust of sweat on your body.

So, after the teacher left, everyone packed their things and went to either take a shower or have lunch.

You were more than ready to head to the bathroom and shower. You were tired, but the sweat on your body bothered you more than fatigue.

– Hey, are you going to eat or take a shower first?

You looked to the side. The girl you talked to after the warm-up. Was it Daphne? Daniela? Delilah? No, that was ridiculous. It was something with D.

– Im going to the shower. I couldn't eat something feeling dirty.

– You sure? As we are being released early, the queue is non-existent to buy… Anything.

– I'm sure. – You smiled, slightly touched by the girl’s kindness. She waved and said goodbye to you, leaving for lunch.

After a long and well-deserved shower, you head to the cafeteria where the food was. Heavens, how hungry you were!

Arriving in the area, you began looking for Cat and Beck. Not surprisingly, you found Beck first. Surrounded by people, girls and boys.

You decide to try to get past the crowd and rescue Beck, who now seems overwhelmed.

You squeeze between people, making your way through elbows and curses, until you reach the center, feeling several hateful looks on you.

Beck's face lights up when he sees you, and he calls your name, approaching you.

– Hey, what are you doing? – he asks, ignoring the entire crowd around him, and you can feel the commotion that this generates. You smile, focusing on nothing more than the boy in front of you.

– Trying to save you from this crowd by inviting you to lunch with me and Cat.

– Oh, please! I would love to.

You swear something happened around you. People cursed him, complained, maybe even hit you, but your brain melted a little when you saw Oliver's smile. A captivating, happy, friendly expression. It seemed like the air around him shimmered and exuded something almost surreal.

What brought you back to reality was a tap on your shoulder.

– So, where are you sitting? – Beck asked and then you realized, the crowd had dissipated and only the pretty boy was by your side.

– Uh, actually, I haven't chosen the table, nor have I found Cat yet. – You then start looking for the redhead. The brunette at his side.

– Ah, I see… Who is Cat? Your pet? Are animals even allowed at school?

You laugh.

– No, no. She's a girl I met today, in drama class, while you were being surrounded by… Everyone…

Beck sighed and nodded in a more crestfallen manner. You stop looking around for a moment, to fix your eyes on him.

– Does this happen a lot? You're famous and I'm the only one who didn't notice?

– No, I'm not famous, at least not yet. I'm just pretty. – He shrugs lightly, as if it weren't a big deal. And you stop walking, and let out a disbelieving laugh. This time, his lips move to form a cocky smile.

– What? Are you going to say i'm not? – he prods you, and you fumble over your words, not wanting to deny it, but certainly not wanting to confirm it either. However, to your relief, he just laughs at your reaction and continues talking. – People have always approached me because of my – he raises his hands to gesture quotation marks with his fingers. - "exotic beauty". Eventually, I just got used to it.

You observe the boy next to you. Really analyzes him.

He didn't seem like the kind of boy who was an asshole, who thought he was better than everyone else, who believed he had everyone at his feet, when he really didn't.

Beck just seemed aware of the reality he found himself in. After all, he was handsome. Short but silky hair, great style of clothing that sold the cool kid look. If you had to guess, he seemed like a relaxed but extremely cunning type of boy. The guy who smiled at everyone, but had a mouth that dripped with venom.

You had your thoughts interrupted by a high-pitched female voice calling your name. Cat. He took one last look at Beck, who maintained a relaxed posture and the remains of a smile.

Well, you deduced, only time will show Oliver's true face, whatever it may be.

– Cat! I was looking for you! – you approached the redhead. She lit up.

– And, did you find me?

– Apparently, you found me. – When saying this, the redhead makes a sad expression.

– Oh, wow, what a shame. – You frowned, not understanding the line of reasoning, but before you could say anything, Cat was already addressing Beck. – Hi, I'm Cat. – she introduced herself, waving energetically.

Beck laughed, like you would laugh at something cute a puppy did, and waved back, but without the redhead's excessive enthusiasm.

You guys go look for a table. And when they find it, they realize they had nothing to eat. Luckily there was a food truck nearby, and everyone ordered something.

At the table, everyone talked about themselves. You revealed that although it inspired you, you never saw the film Black Swan. Cat talked about her love for purple giraffes and her brother. You were worried at that part, you didn't know if the small girl was joking or not.

Beck talked about how he moved from Canada with his parents to Los Angeles just for school, and talked excitedly about how he liked cars and was looking forward to getting his own.

When they heard sobs around them, that's when they left the bubble they were in.

– You're a bitch!

A blonde girl, green eyes, swollen and moist. She was the one who jumped out of her chair and screamed. Despite her anguished expression, she looked firmly at the table in front of her, and the person who was sitting there.

You recognized who it was from your theater class. She had a gothic style. Eyeliner, black nails, combat boots and dark clothes.

The green-eyed goth girl, you noticed, raised her eyebrow and took her eyes in a deliberate and prolonged manner to the bare legs of the girl in front of her.

– I'm not the one with the scraped knees.

She smiled cruelly, and amidst the deadly silence, a few muffled giggles could be heard.

The blonde girl choked. Tries to justify herself, you think she had says about a skateboard, but was unsuccessful. Then she resignes herself to letting out a sob and running away.

The goth turned her smile into a frown, and looked around, the many eyes in her direction. She faced everyone and with a loud, rude and direct voice, she shouted.

– What are you looking at? – and everyone went back to doing what they did before. Well, you asume that everyone had done it, you didn't bother to check. You just kept your attention on the girl. Curious. You wanted to know what had happened. And how she had made someone cry on the first day of school.

You hated this type of attitude, behavior, personality. You might not be the kindest girl in the world, but you certainly weren't cruel. Even when you felt the urge to be.

It was a shame that such a beautiful girl, with brown hair and green eyes, could be so horrible.

You assumed that beauty would spoil a person. You just hoped Beck wouldn't turn out to be that kind of person. Then, you finally returned your gaze to the table, and discovered that you weren't the only one who remained looking at her. The pretty boy also had his sights set on the table that only had one mean girl on it.

– She's mean. – Cat spoke up, breaking the silence as well as Beck's admiration and thoughts.

– She is. – Beck agrees, nonchalant.

You remain silent, taking one last look in the girl's direction.

It doesn't take long before the bell rings. You say goodbye to them both and head towards classes in the afternoon. The part of your curriculum is completely normal and, after theater and ballet classes, terribly boring.

Chemistry, geography and math classes stretched out, as if they had no end, like a rubber band that when it thought it was about to break, it stretched a little more. However, it didn't matter anymore, you were finally free to go home.

You were exhausted, physically, mentally and spiritually. Names of teachers, subjects, exercises, classmates piling up and colliding in your brain. You had absolutely no energy for anything.

Unfortunately for you, however, when you open the door to your house, you come across your mother, waiting, sitting in a chair, almost jumping with excitement. The true image of a puppy anxiously waiting for its owner.

Your heart is heavy, and your body and soul scream with frustration. You just wanted your bed. But, your mother sees you and you simply accept that you would have to stay awake for a few more moments.

Your mother spews questions one after another at you.

"How it was?"

“Have you made friends yet?”

“Are all teachers weird?”

“Is there anyone famous?”

“Did they treat you well?”

"Are you well?"

"Are you hungry? I made dinner!”

While eating, you told your mother everything, it didn't take long for you to get excited too, even though you were tired.

You leave out some details, like teachers and some bad people, but otherwise, you confess everything. The many beautiful people, with a few exceptions, the strange talents and habits you noticed, strange and normal teachers.

However, sleepiness and tiredness manifested itself through yawning and heavy eyes. Your mother, realizing this, immediately sends you up to your room to get some sleep.

After a relaxing shower, you lay down on your bed, comfortable under the blankets.

Ah, finally.

Chapter 2

[gamenburger]

ALRIGHT EVERYONE, HERE'S WHAT IM UP TO:

Thank you for finding and following me. Periodically I like to give updates to keep me accountable for what I'm working on. Here is the short list of what You will see from me in the future: MID DECEMBER: UnSanctioned RECollection (Goblin Bunker Zine Jam #3) I run a zine jam in the GOBLIN BUNKER, which I hang out in regularly. This one was about emulation and piracy (vaguely)! I am drawing the cover and finalizing the order as we speak, so expect a release for digital and all printing formats before Christmas! Find older Zine Jam entries here! https://gamenburger.itch.io/ END/BEGINNING OF the YEAR: Every year I write a long blog about every impactful media and every game I played this year. It's quite a bit, and i draw a lot of pictures for it too. Expect it this year as well on my blog, Grim In Pink | Substack SOMETIME MID JANUARY: THE RETURN OF MOBIUS LOOP Some of you may have actually followed me for sonic related reasons. THats right, i run an archie sonic read-along in the goblin bunker too with discord user rist! They're cool... and do most of the real interesting work. Issue 8 will cover EVERYTHING we've read, so it will be a great way to catch up if you want to join! you can find older issues here: https://gamenburger.itch.io/

Soon AFTER, but in no particular order:

ANALYSIS OF THE KILLER: yes. I want to revisit the game and give spoilerfic analysis- i'm not ready to let go just yet. I'll keep you all posted when i draw stuff for it.

FROM THE DESERT SAND, WE BUILT A BURGER: My current passion project... I mean to put into longform words a giant analysis on the politics of food distribution, mcdonalds, and two terrible movies I hate to my core.

A MONTHLY ARTICLE YOU CAN HAVE MAILED TO YOU? MAYBE? I may have an opportunity soon...

Plussing my old articles/ reviews as zines so i can table them? Maybe? IDK? People like that koopa kids article....

Two zines, one about BEFORE THE GREEN MOON and one about 24 KILLERS. please play those games if you havent. They are excellent.

There is an article about Sonic 2's level layouts collecting dust. I swear I will finish it.

And much later, something else...?

Thank you for sticking around everyone.

[writingonleaves]

like you were my closest friend - tyler seguin

pairing: tyler seguin x original female character

warnings: swearing, some angst, mostly fluff

word count: 4.1k

based on: "maroon" by taylor swift, title from that song as well

author's note: okay this isn't my favorite one because i think it's a bit rushed, but i thought i'd put it out anyways. would very much like to emphasize that this is fictional and i'm rooting for segs and his hot wife!! im a sucker for right person wrong time vibes and shit happening at weddings so here's a combo of that! also maroon is so seggy coded and you can't tell me otherwise

*****

Carmen Valez was 19 and stupid when she first met Tyler Seguin.

Working at a tattoo shop to make extra money while trying to put herself through college, she was cleaning up from her boss’s last scheduled appointment of the night when in came a group of rowdy guys. It wasn’t the first time a group of drunk guys came in looking for a tattoo. She had listened as her boss Ken came out and did his spiel and she heard laughter and some agreements so they couldn’t have been that drunk because her boss would’ve put up more of a fight.

When she first saw Tyler, she recognized him immediately. Growing up in Boston in a family of hockey lovers, how could she not recognize the rookie who had just won the Stanley Cup? As she turned the corner even more, she saw Brad Marchand and all she could think about was that she couldn't wait to tell her brothers and dad about this. 

Ken introduced her to the guys and asked her if she could set up some things. She waved in greeting and nodded, going in the back to gather the supplies needed. She tried to stifle a yawn as she re-sterilized the needles, but it didn’t work.

“Long night?”

She whipped around to see Tyler peeking in behind a curtain. “Are you looking for something?”

“The bathroom. But I think I found something much better.”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “Go to the end of the hall and it’s on your right.”

“Thanks,” he tilted his head to the side. “Are you the one who drew those flower designs that are hanging up in the hall?”

“I am. Ken asked me to draw some things so the shop wasn’t only filled with his designs.”

“You tattoo as well?”

“Oh, no way. That’s all Ken.” She shrugged. “I’ve designed some, but never physically tattooed them on someone. My hands are too shaky.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

He hummed and then went on his way to the bathroom as she finished gathering the supplies and went outside with them. 

Ken became the guy Tyler kept coming back to for his tattoos so she got to know him and despite his reputation as a partier and womanizer, she found him endearing, often making conversation with him during his longer sessions while Ken was working on him on the table and she was doing schoolwork or doodling in the front. 

It was a weird friendship because Tyler was rarely stationary in Boston and Carmen was attending Northeastern University and they really didn’t mix in any of the same circles but they kept coming back to each other. Their friendship developed to the point where he would come by on his nights off to her off-campus apartment with takeout and they would flick on a movie. He told her about his insecurities of having such a fantastic rookie year and then never amounting to anything else and she told him about her confusions of what she actually wanted to do with her communications degree. He talked about how hooking up with girls was easier than seeing if someone was only using him for his image and she talked about her view on relationships and how long distance never works. 

He would invite her to games and she’d come along sometimes, dragging her best friend along with her to TD Garden. She knew all about his lifestyle and how he’d hook up with girls left and right but when she was with him, she always only saw a 20 something year old boy who was thrust into stardom really quickly and who was fucking up like anybody else his age but being overly criticized for it because of his job. She didn’t really see him as anything more than a friend, truly. She could admit easily that he was objectively attractive and probably too charming for his own good, but she saw him as one of her dearest friends more than anything. 

(Even if she had the slightest feeling that she wanted to be more during those years, heart fluttering when he texted her to make sure she got home safe after late nights or winking at her and throwing her a puck at one of his games, causing her to grin like a middle school girl with a crush, she always pushed it away)

So when she was in the Cape celebrating the Fourth and news broke out that the Bruins had traded him to Dallas, she felt her heart drop. She ventured to a quieter area away from the celebrations and dialed his number. She wasn’t sure if he’d want to talk, but she couldn’t not call him to see if he was okay. 

From the sniffling on his end, despite what he said, she knew he wasn’t okay, and told him that when she was back in the city, she’d come around to his place with food, wine and hugs. 

The next week, when he opened the door, she dropped everything and just embraced him, holding him for several minutes as she tried to keep her tears in. She pulled away and just apologized for bringing some cheap rose that her roommate left at her apartment a couple of months ago instead of an actual nice bottle and he just laughed. She set up food from their favorite takeout place and they automatically went through all of these motions but with a sad feeling in the air. This night was going to be the last one of these, before he went back home the following weekend to Canada to spend the rest of his off season there and then head to Dallas. His apartment was already bare, having gotten started on moving out as soon as he had gotten the call.

She tried so, so hard not to cry as they put on Great British Bake Off and talked and somehow they started reflecting on numerous random moments and memories they had shared the last three years and they were both laughing as he complained about her almost spilling her wine like usual and she just threw her napkin at him. For the first time, he’s the one who splashed his wine on her t-shirt and he hiccuped and apologized and offered a shirt for her to change into and she waved him off, a blush on her cheeks either from the alcohol or from his proximity or both.

At one point, they ended up on the floor cuddling with his dogs and he asked how they even ended up there and she snorted, referencing the two bottles of rose they had downed and he had snorted and flashed her a stunning smile and her heart cracked a bit more. 

They were both dozing off on the couch — his arm thrown over her as she cuddled into his chest because they both had always been touchy when they were drunk — when he said something that would forever plague her memory. 

“I should’ve asked you to be mine.”

She blinked and shot up, looking down at him. “What?”

“I-I should’ve just asked you on a date. You could’ve been mine this whole time.”

“Tyler. You can’t say shit like that if you don’t mean it.”

“What makes you think I don’t mean it, Car?” He shot back, sitting up. “I know I’m drunk and I know I’m about to leave this city and maybe never see you again but of course I mean it.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears fell. “Tyler.”

“I don’t regret a single moment of our friendship. I just regret that I never told you how I felt until it was too late.”

“You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Stop trying to discount my words because I’m drunk,” he said sternly. “I love you as a friend, of course, but I-I love you as more too. For awhile now, I think. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same and again, I’m the dumbest guy alive for bringing this up tonight of all nights but I just…I had to tell you before I left.”

She put her head in her heads and started crying softly. “I love you too,” she admitted through her tears. “I-I just never said anything because I didn’t think you were looking for more. Jesus, I literally know two of the girls you’ve hooked up with the past year. Do you know how annoying and gross it is to hear about your performance in bed while I’m trying to cram last minute for an exam?”

He chuckled and she looked at him again and saw that there were tears running down his cheeks as well. “We’re both stupid, aren’t we?”

“We are.”

He looked up at the ceiling with quivering lips. “I’m not going to ask you for more, no matter how much I want to.”

She nodded vehemently and cupped his face with both her hands, wanting so bad to kiss his lips and using every part of her strength not to. “You’re going to be amazing in Dallas.” She brushed a falling tear and tried to give him a reassuring smile as his top lip quivered. “You’re going to become a lover of the heat and look amazing in green and start liking country music and I’m going to make fun of you for all of it.”

“But you’re not gonna be there.”

She swallowed with a small shrug. “Who knows? Maybe a job in Dallas will open up after I graduate.”

“You wouldn’t take it. I wouldn’t let you. Your heart belongs to the Northeast.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” she weakly protested, slapping his arm and making him chuckle.

But he was right. And she hated that he was right.

She watched his eyes flit to her lips and she hoped that he was also fighting the urge as he placed a kiss on her forehead, which somehow was probably worse than if he had just kissed her. 

“I’m going to miss you so much.” He said, voice cracking at the edges. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, not being able to say it back because she didn’t want to completely break down. “Let’s get some sleep.”

That last night, they fell asleep on the couch like they had done numerous times before and he sent her off in the morning like he had done numerous times before, except this time she held onto him as tight as she could. Maybe if she kept hugging him, he wouldn’t have to go. 

But he had to. And he did. 

Carmen Valez was 22 when she saw Tyler Seguin again. 

After graduation, she had gotten a job in New York, and he was in town playing the Rangers. They had gone out to dinner and then to a bar for drinks and things fell back into place as they leaned in close to each other the whole night and she kissed him, bringing him back to her apartment. She woke up with marks on her collarbone and memories of his lips all over her body and cursed herself as she watched him peacefully sleep next to her because she was still in love with him. 

He had woken up with a soft but sad smile. “Has your view on long distance relationships changed?”

She bit her lip, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

He swallowed. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault you’re the easiest person to fall in love with. Can I ask one thing though?”

“Of course.”

“If your view does change, give me a call?”

“Tyler-”

“I’m serious. Whether it’s 10 days or 10 years from now, call me.”

A tear had slipped out from her eyes when he pulled her into his chest, placing a kiss on her forehead. 

Carmen Valez was 27 when she realized her view on long distance changed. And the first person she thought of was Tyler Seguin. 

They had kept in touch very sporadically throughout the years over text and had tried to meet up everytime he came to New York to play, but the contact became less and less as the years went on. She tried to pretend it didn’t hurt. She had no right to be hurt. He could live his life however he wanted.

She was going down to Dallas for one of her coworker’s weddings and was tempted to call Tyler to see if he was around — for the first time, she’d be where he was instead of the other way around — but she didn’t bother because it was the off season and she figured he was home in Canada. 

As she walked into the venue, she was shocked to see Tyler speaking to the bride’s grandma. She couldn’t help but smile at how gentle he was, soft smile on his face as he tucked the grandma’s hand into the crook of his elbow while leading her to her seat. He looked so handsome in his gray suit.

Gosh, he’s changed since they met in that tattoo parlor in Boston. They both have. But something about his smile makes her realize that almost nothing has changed at all.

When he sees her, she swears he lights up and her stomach flutters. She notices quickly that he’s a groomsman, if his matching suit with a couple of the other ushers indicates anything. He strolls up to her with his signature charming smile and she can’t help but roll her eyes. 

“Funny seeing you here.”

She scoffs, before stepping forward and hugging him tightly. “Hey Ty.”

“Hi Car.” He turns to her coworker with a stunning smile. “And hello Car’s friend. I’m Tyler. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Samantha. How do you two know each other?”

She exchanges a look with him, because it’s a long story. But she settles with, “Ran into him when he played in Boston and I went to college there, and he didn’t leave me alone.” The three of them laugh. 

“I’m assuming you both are here for the bride?”

“We are.”

He offers an arm to the both of them. “Follow me, ladies.” Carmen can tell Samantha is charmed as she rolls her eyes but grabs the crook of his elbow anyways.

After he escorts them to their seats, he has to bolt and just bids them farewell with a kiss on Carmen’s cheek and a promise to save her a dance later before ducking out of the church, presumably to help out with some behind the scenes stuff. 

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Samantha gives her a skeptical look. “We’ve been working together for two years and you failed to tell me that you know Tyler Seguin? You know I grew up a Stars fan.”

“It’s never come up.”

“Fair.” She blinks, looking for something in her coworker’s face. “You love him, don’t you?”

“What? No, of course-”

“Nice try. If your heart eyes hadn’t given you away, it was your response just now. You’ve always been a bad liar. What’s the story between you two?”

She sighs, staring at the front of the church at nothing in particular. “We met when I worked at a tattoo parlor in college and he came in and we became really good friends. He got traded to Dallas and then told me loved me on his last night in the city. Knew I didn’t believe in long distance at the time so didn’t ask for more. We slept together around a year later. My stance on long distance hadn’t changed. We’ve seen each other sporadically when I’m free and he’s in New York for a game, but not much recently.”

Samantha whistles. “Sounds like a lot.”

Carmen just snorts. She has no idea. 

“So you still love him.” 

Carmen just sighs. 

“I think he still might love you too.”

Carmen snorts, smoothing down her dress. “How could you possibly know that? You met him for maybe two minutes.”

“Maybe it’s the fact that we’re at a wedding and this could be a scene from a Hallmark movie, but I’m also pretty sure he also had heart eyes when he saw you.”

Carmen just hums, and Samantha drops it, as they shift to other safer topics. 

The ceremony is stunning and the bride is gorgeous and the groom is beaming, yet besides when the bride walked down the aisle, she can’t tear her eyes away from Tyler, standing at the front with a constant happy look on his face. As he walked down with an accompanying bridesmaid on his arm, he caught her eye and shot her a sly wink and she knows she blushed and she didn’t even try to hide it. 

The next time she caught him was well into the reception, after dinner had been eaten and the dance floor was starting to open up. She had just finished her drink before she felt a tap on her shoulder, looking up to see Tyler with an outstretched hand. 

“Dance with me?”

Without giving a verbal answer, she takes his hand and lets him lead her to the dance floor. She wraps her arms around his neck as his hands settle on her waist.

“You didn’t reach out to tell me you were gonna be in town.”

“I figured you’d be in Canada for the off-season.”

He hums, but he doesn’t buy the excuse. To be fair, she doesn’t either. “It’s really good to see you, Car.” He says, and she might be imagining him pulling her closer. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you.” 

He smirks and she feels like she’s 19 again. “I look beautiful?”

She rolls her eyes. “You do.” She says softly. “How have you been?”

And then they start catching up, and it’s so damn easy, as the conversation flows from hockey to her advertising job to their memories in Boston to their mutual friends who just got married to their families and it feels like he’s still on the Bruins and she’s still at Northeastern. At some point, they migrate from the dance floor to the empty-ish open bar and they’re still talking and she realizes how much she’s missed having him in his life. 

When she voices that out loud, his beaming smile dims the slightest. “God, I’ve missed you so much. Is this what I’ve been missing out on?”

“Don’t even start, Seguin.”

“What?”

“Blaming yourself or whatever you’re about to do. If we’re gonna blame someone, it’s all on me.”

Their first seconds of silence fall between them. “How has that been, by the way? You got a lucky guy back in New York waiting for you?”

She snorts. “Absolutely not. You? I hope I didn’t steal you away from a date or something.”

“Nah. No one for me.”

“Not at all?”

“None who have meant as much to me as you.”

She feels like her heart’s been sucker punched. Typical Tyler Seguin. Always going in for the kill. 

She switches topics. “I-I watched your Stanley Cup playoff run. You played really well. I’m sorry it wasn’t the result you guys wanted.”

“You watch my games?”

She swallows. Busted. “I try to whenever I can, even though I still feel like I’m betraying my Bruins when I do.”

He laughs, still a bit shocked. “I’m sure they’d forgive you. I was a Bruin, after all.”

She downs her drink and asks the bartender for a water. “I missed you,” she says quietly once the bartender is out of earshot. “And I always loved watching you play. Figured it was the next best thing.”

“You could’ve called. Or texted. I would’ve answered.”

She shakes her head. “That would’ve been unfair to you, especially with how I left things off.”

He chuckles, albeit sadly. “Carmen. I’m kinda weak when it comes to you. Always have been.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, a tear falling as she feels Tyler place a warm hand on her thigh over her maroon dress. “You give me way too much power.”

“I don’t think I could ever give you what you deserve, no matter how hard I try.”

Carmen wipes the tear away with a small smile. She pokes his chest. “How do you come up with this shit?”

He laughs, taking a sip of his beer, before his face settles into a more serious expression. “Can I ask you two questions, though? No bullshit. Just the truth.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Do you still love me?”

She nods at an embarrassingly fast pace.

He swallows. “Oh.”

She picks at her nails, suddenly unsure. “D-Do you still love me? It’s-it’s totally okay if you don’t. I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to. It’s been years and we don’t really see each other much anymore and-”

“Of course I still love you.” She whips her head up to stare at him in shock. He runs a hand through his hair with a huff. 

She puts her hand over his that’s still resting on his thigh and interlaces their fingers together. “What’s your second question?”

“Do you still not believe in long distance?”

“I’ve been thinking…I think I’m open to trying it.”

His eyes flash in surprise as his lips turn up into a hopeful smile. “Really? You’re not fucking with me?”

“Since when have I ever lied to you, Ty?”

“Can I have a third question? And maybe a fourth?”

She rolls her eyes fondly, squealing a bit as he brings her stool even closer to him. “Was that it?”

“Smartass.” She nods at him to ask. “Would you want to try? With me?”

She swallows. “Yes.” She thinks he physically lights up, like a lightbulb with a new battery, but she holds a hand up. “But Tyler, things have changed. We’ve changed. Is this…is this really what you want? Am I really who you want?”

“I left Boston eight years ago in love with you. Here I am, eight years later in Dallas, still in love with you. Probably more in love with you, actually, which I didn’t think was possible.” He grabs her hands and lifts them to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “When do you head back to New York?”

She blinks at the abrupt change of subject. “Um, I’m actually in Dallas for another week for a work conference. So not until next Sunday.”

He grins. “Stay at mine then. Please.”

“Tyler-”

“I’ll have to head back to Canada for a couple weeks for things I can’t reschedule, but then, if you let me, I’d love to come to New York and spend some time with you until I have to come back to Dallas for pre-season.”

“Tyler, that’s…how are you so confident and sure about all of this?”

“Because it’s you,” he says. “And I love you. I’m not wasting this chance that you’ve given me.”

She bites her lip, trying to take it all in. “I’m going to need to grab my stuff from the hotel tonight.”

“Deal. I’ve only had like, two beers in the last three hours anyways. I can drive you.”

“You know that I’m not just going to…drop everything to come to Dallas, right? My job and my life is all in New York.”

“I’d be a dumbass to expect that. Your heart belongs to the Northeast.”

She smiles, momentarily flashing back to the last time he said those exact same words and how similar and different they are now. She leans forward and kisses him sweetly, like he’s coming home from a game, like she’s in the middle of cooking dinner, like they’ve been doing this all their lives. She then pulls him up and drags him back to the dance floor. 

“Would you have called me?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers into his chest, immediately knowing what he’s referencing. Eight years later and she still remembers that night like it was yesterday. “What if you were in a relationship or something? That would’ve been unfair to everyone.”

“I wouldn’t have been.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Because I’ve always loved you. At this point, I’m pretty sure that I always will.”

“Thank you,” she whispers. And as he presses a loving kiss on her forehead, she hopes he understands what she’s trying to thank him for — for coming into that tattoo shop all those years ago, for all the nights and memories in Boston that involved takeout and Netflix and endless fits of laughter, for always believing in her, for waiting for her and being understanding even when she broke his heart. 

For loving her.

“By the way,” Tyler says as he twirls her around, hands immediately attaching to her waist once she’s facing him again. “I always loved you in maroon.”

[s4hfeia]

sometimes i just sit in my room and stare out the window, wondering if thats all there is. my seventeen year old sisters been drawing and sketching since she was little. its like she got this magic ability to capture every tiny memory, every emotion shes feeling, and turn it into something beautiful on paper. i swear to god, the talent that girl has is out of this world and believe me i love her from all my heart, i really do, but i cant help but feel jealous. jealous that she found her thing, jealous, that she can have something to hold onto, something to do to feel alive when every thing else feels like its spinning out of control.

but me? im just sitting in my room, existing.

every day feels the same. i wake up, go to school, act like im interested in things i have no idea about, come back home, watch tv, and go to sleep. its like im floating around, without any idea in what direction to go. i just wish i had that too. a passion, or a purpose, even. something that makes me feel like im not just drifting away, wasting time. i need to find my spark, have something that makes me excited to wake up in the morning, but im scared i never will. and i dont know how to handle the idea that maybe there is nothing special waiting for me.

at first, i tried to tell myself that thats okay, i mean, everyone moves at their own pace, right? but no, seriously, im really scared. im scared that i wake up one day and realise that i spent my whole life waiting for something thatll never come. maybe its silly worrying about this right now, but its so hard not to when everyone always keeps asking me what i want to do, who i want to be, where i see myself in the future. how am i supposed to have those answers when i dont even know something as simple as my favourite color?

when i told my sissy about this she said that theres still time to figure it out, but it doesnt feel like that when everyone around you seems to have it all together. i keep hoping that one day, ill just know. itll all make sense and ill fing my thing. but until then, ill be sitting in my room, staring out the window, wondering if this is all there is.

[plasmasimagination]

hi!!! congratulations on your milestone ♡ i was wondering if i could get a matchup for genshin impact and honkai star rail?

if possible, i would like to be matched up with a male for genshin, but a female or male for star rail is fine!

my mbti is ifsp and my zodiac is leo! i'm introverted but i love socializing w/ people and i'm definitely a yapper 😭... i talk a lot to people i'm close w/ and usually type in all caps cuz im always hype like dat... i'm also vv optimistic ♡

i'm also the funniest person i know & i think i'm the clown of my friend group... sometimes i say really stupid things and i'm really reckless + impulsive

i have dark brown hair that reaches my chest and i have blonde highlights! i'm 5'0, my skin is on the paler side, and i'm on the thinner side! my aesthetic is soft & pastel and i love, love the color pink!! i think i'm really feminine & i love feminine things

i do sports and i love biology & healthcare! i also love drawing and writing & usually spend my free time doing one or the other... i'm really creative & i like anything related to art (music, literature, etc.) i wld love to be in the medical field & give others hope during tough times!! ♡

i don't really fall in love nowadays (i only like fictional charas lmao) because i'm young and i don't rlly the people my age :( i feel like they're really immature and that's okay!! ik everyone grows at their own pace, but for now, they're js not for me!

i want someone who understands me and who i can be comfortable w. i also want someone who i know isn't with me for the sake of being with me, but because they actually like me for me.

in theory, i really love the "i hate everyone but you" trope, but realistically ik it's toxic AFF and that's not the energy i want irl... but i do want someone who makes it noticable js how much they like me :( im a sucker for eyes and i love the thought of someone looking at me w/ a fond, soft expression that they don't share w/ anyone else makes me really giddy... i want it to be known that i am loved (although subtly) and i want to feel special ♡♡

i'd prefer someone who is kind of a tsundere and someone who isn't really into pda bc i don't like pda myself... also my love language is quality time! i'd rather be loved in private than in public, but things like hand holding is fine :))

anyway thank you so much for doing these matchups and feel free to ignore this one if you have too much on your plate!! you are so deserving of 300, almost 400 followers now, and you are so incredible ♡♡ thank you, again and again!

SWEETIE! HAI!! (∩˃ω˂∩)

Your matchup, go!

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AL HAITHAM

Okay okay I know what I might say "but alhaitham won't make me feel loved..."

LISTEN TO ME, YES HE WILL.

he might not be vocal with it but he loves you and shows it

He will always keep an eye on you, and sometimes just doze off while looking at you over his book

He prefers to spend time at home, with either cuddling you or just sitting together and doing something, since he's not really into PDA he prefers to keep his love to you for the inside

His love languages are quality time and acts of service

Expect a lot of small things done for you

For example you fell asleep while reading a book, he will put a bookmark on the chapter and cover you in a blanket

Tho all that aside, he does act annoyed with your jokes sometimes but in reality he's very fond of them

After you Tell a joke or such he'll just sit there silently, but you could swear a smile is creeping on his smile.

BRONYA

Similar to alhaitham but very different

Different from alhaitham, she's more calm and less tense

She enjoys your company a lot, and appreciates your optimistic view of the world

Also she likes the fact that you're so experienced in healthcare, she might even provide you with some good situations where you can try it out, if you want ofcourse

Because of her status I'd like to think she doesn't enjoy PDA at all, but what she does enjoy is private time with you, where she can just be herself and show her gratitude to you