#i was supposed to see them next tuesday rip

[shiningwonho]

the kard tour was canceled :')

[manicali]

I need motivation because I haven’t motivated in months. Rip my happiness I suppose

Anyway um notes? Post?

10- I’ll dye my hair. Like this week, I’ll grab some hair dye and do it myself.

20- I’ll study for my physics test on Tuesday. I have to learn all of physics 10. (I failed badly)

30- I’ll see if I can get an assessment for dyscalculia before math next semester so I can set up a plan with the school to not fail math 10/11

40- I’ll finish sewing my jacket!

50- I will finish all my drawings over winter break

60- I start posting writing for Project Level 001

70- I’ll make the video I want explaining the progression of my stories.

80- I’ll clean my room (lost my glasses somewhere in the disaster and my brain hurts now cause I can’t see)

90- I’ll start eating normally again (two days counts right?)

100- I’ll learn to draw!

200- I’ll publish Episode One of Envy’s Angel before my birthday in June (dunno why I categorize them in episodes and seasons)

505- I’ll Publish Episode One of Free Therapy by end of school year(heh, song reference)

666- I’ll start learning Arabic

1000 I’ll start fixing my brain up a bit. (Highest cause I don’t want to)

No limits on the this cause they typically get to 70-80 notes

[incorrectbatfam]

Due to various circumstances, one of the batfam has to substitute for Bruce at the next Wayne Enterprises Board of Executives meeting. How do each of them do at that job?

Dick: I officially declare today Casual Friday.

Dick: *rips off pants to reveal Hawaiian shorts underneath*

Secretary: It's Tuesday.

———————

Jason: Here's a thought exercise for everyone. Say you're chasing a high-profile criminal like, I dunno, Black Mask, and you have one hour to locate his hideout in the warehouse district. With only a notepad and your knowledge of advanced ballistics, how many goons do you think he'll have posted around the perimeter?

Accountant: *raises hand*

Jason: Yeah?

Accountant: Aren't you supposed to be dead?

Jason: Irrelevant.

———————

Tim: To illustrate my proposed budget cut, let's use the analogy of assassins ripping out your spleen. To chip away at the layers of the body would be inefficient and take up more resources than necessary, whereas if we identify a streamlined path beforehand, we can make a quick slice and leave the rest of our time to focus on necessary repairs.

New employee, whispering: What's he talking about?

Veteran employee, whispering back: He's Red Robin. We just pretend we don't know.

———————

Stephanie: You, over there. How much do you get paid?

Intern: I don't.

Stephanie: Unacceptable. Follow me, we're taking a business trip to the ATM.

———————

Damian: From now on, Wayne Enterprises is a pet-friendly office.

Sales rep: Even my horse?

Damian: Especially your horse.

———————

Cassandra: *blinks*

Financial advisor: Huh?

Cassandra: *blinks*

Financial advisor: Of course, I should've thought of that.

Cassandra: *blinks*

Financial advisor: Yes, ma'am, I'll get right on it.

———————

Duke: So... what are you working on?

Web developer: *spouts off a bunch of design jargon*

Duke: Cool, cool. What about a comments section?

Web developer: Not gonna lie dude, I completely forgot about that.

Duke: That's okay. You look like you could use a break. Wanna get smoothies?

———————

Barbara: Why isn't the PowerPoint working?

IT person: The clicker needs batteries.

Barbara: And why doesn't it have any?

IT person: We ran out of double-As.

Barbara: A multi-billion dollar company and we run out of double-A batteries?

———————

Selina: *delivering a presentation*

Bruce: *walks in*

Bruce: Honey, I brought you lunch.

Executive: You told us you were out of town.

Bruce: I was. You think I can find burritos this good in Gotham?

———————

Kate: Alright ladies, I need to see those reports on my desk by the end of the day.

Researcher: Why?

Kate: …I've never had anyone ask that.

———————

Senior manager: Can we start already? I have places to be.

Alfred: Not until this conference room is spotless.

[mistresscitrusslice]

Our Glorious Evolution - Chapter 4: The Cage of Your Warmth

He slept an entire day again, didn’t he? Everything hurts. His joints hurt. His back hurts. His head hurts. His neck hurts. Most of his body isn’t even augmented but it feels like the rest of him underwent an operation too.

The bedroom isn’t dark despite the light being off. Jayce can clearly make out a picture frame on the dresser across the room. It’s a photograph of himself and Viktor at the ribbon cutting ceremony for the opening of the Hexgates. It took both of them to hold the enormous scissors, one of the few times Viktor was included in the celebration of their ventures and accepted the invitation.

Jayce shuts his eyes. When he opens them again, the room is pitch black and the silhouette of the dresser and its photo are barely visible. He sighs and slumps back against the headboard, willing the space around him to appear bright again. Naturally, his eyes would have night vision.

The door creaks open and Viktor peeks his head in. The orange light of his eyes reflects in the glass of the photo frame.

“How long-”

“It’s Tuesday,” Viktor says with a bit of pity.

Jayce does the math. He’s been out for a day and a half at least.

Viktor steps into the room, bringing the light of the hall outside with him, glowing golden against his neck and the Hexclaw.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Like I just got my spine ripped out.”

His partner sits down on the other side of the bed. There’s a guilty look in his eyes. Jayce expected him to be callous about the pain of recovery, but he supposes he isn’t giving him enough credit. Viktor would know how it feels, after all.

Viktor clears his throat. He probably doesn’t need to, but it breaks the silence. “This drink is beneficial to recovery.”

He hands Jayce a tin cup of something warm and he takes a sniff.

“Viktor. This is sweetmilk.”

He shrugs. “Like I said, beneficial to recovery.” He reaches for the lamp, but Jayce stops him, irritating his chest a little.

“I can see just fine.”

“Oh, you figured it out.” He’s still keeping his distance, not moving to sit next to him, staying just out of reach. “Have you discovered the magnifying function yet?” He smiles a little, the side of his lips quirking up.

“The…?” He wants to laugh, this is so ridiculous. Jayce sets the sweetmilk down on the bedside table without taking a sip. He’s puzzled, but Viktor’s smile is contagious.

Full fic on AO3

[nevernonline]

✧.* he's all that; lsm mini series

✧.*synopsis: every year the kappa sorority hosted a 'hot or not' greek life pageant show. you've luckily escaped having to bring your own "nottie" to give a makeover to and train in hopes of winning a big prize for the rest of your crew. but, just when you thought your lucky streak was going strong your name get's chosen as a representative and your sisters had just the guy for you to make over.

part of my seventeen movie series. 

paring: seokmin x reader (y/n uses she/her pronouns.) 

genre/s: fluff, strangers2lvrs, neighbors2lvrs or whatever.  

warning/s: alcohol mentions, swearing, cigarette mentions, swearing, some pg-13 jokes. no funny business iykyk. lots of mean girls (rip)

word count: 4.2k

note: im notorious atp for not editing, pls. this edition of nmm is inspired by a true classic she's all that (w/ a bit of greek the tv show/sydney white energy if any of u have ever seen ALSO classics, this was supposed to be one part, BUT! I feel myself getting so carried away so … three parts.) i was going to post my gwag update today but im gonna wait till either tomorrow or Tuesday <3.

beginning ▸ middle ▸ end.

Y/n was dreading the meeting she walked through the front doors of the sorority for this afternoon, the pageant. Kappa and all the other sororities on Greek row participated in what they call ‘Hot or Not’ every year since supposedly the 1980’s something her now head sister Heather claims was started by the legacy that was her mother. Which maybe was true, but y/n could never figure out why it mattered? And while it was fun it was a little bit old school.

“Hey, girls. Everyone settled in? We have a very exciting tradition here at Kappa as you may know.”

The cheers rang through the sitting room, with its white walls, pale pink carpets, and sherpa couches, the cheers and claps of girls hoping Heather draws their name from the glass bowl with her perfectly manicured finger tips.

“Yes. It’s so exciting, we have a few new faces so since you haven’t been a part of this week in past years we left you out of the bowl, but we will have many things for you to participate in this week. Like dine and dash, our famous Good as Gold party, and of course judging the competition at the end of the week. Before we get to the drawing, I wanted to congratulate our last year's winner, Suni. Give it up for her.”

Smiling, y/n clapped along with the other girls, giving Suni her flowers. About to step out behind the two french doors to grab a water or something to drink, when you hear Heather call your name loudly. All of your other sisters and friends spinning around watching her looking like she was attempting to escape the reality of her name being the one chosen after three years of getting out of it.

“y/n! Finally, Come back here, girly.”

Walking through the clapping crown y/n took her place next to the blonde and pretended to smile with excitement as her gut was telling her it was absolutely the worst day of her life.

The only reason y/n was in this sorority was to get extra college credits, that and Heather and her mother met here and have been friends since that very day. Heather was obsessed with being a legacy and clawing her way to the top of the food chain at the university. Y/n was just there for the ride.

“Everyone, you all obviously know my very good friend and our smartest sister, y/n. I personally have been waiting for the day she got chosen out of this bowl. It’s something our moms, co-vp’s of their 1980’s class of Kappas have been talking about for years. So I’m just as excited as I’m sure y/n is to be our guiding light to another victory this year. Anything to say, y/n?”

“Uh, not really, you said it all.”

Another big fake smile appeared on her face. Laughing and giggling at all the congratulations coming her way.

“Girls, before we enjoy our lunch. Don’t forget tonight is dine and dash, please find your dates and bring them to Carol’s Diner at 8pm. See you there.”

Checking the time on your phone you had roughly 45 minutes before your lecture and enough time to take off the gaudy Kappa logo’d sweater you had to put on for what Heather calls “official business.”

“Y/n what are you checking the time for? We have a lot to do today.”

“I have a class in 40 minutes, I have to go back and change.”

“I don’t get why you won't just move back in here with us?”

“I told you, Heather. I can't. I have to focus on getting into Med School and no offense to you or the other girls, but this isn’t exactly the best place for me to focus when I have to study.”

“Med School can wait just one day right? We have to set up the table at Carol’s and set up for the party later. Would you mind going with the new girl Sam to grab the alcohol? And then you can meet me back here and we will go to the diner together. I’m going to have the girls go out and look for some Nottie’s for you today before that whale from Delta picks them all up. “

“No, but-”

“Thank you! Love you!”

“Also her name is not Sam, It’s Soyeon.”

“Okay got it, toodleoo.”

Searching the house for the person and so called new girl, Sam you stumbled upon her sitting out on the back patio writing in her journal.

“Soyeon?”

“Oh, hey y/n.

“Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, you didn’t. I’m just so used to everyone calling me Sam I forget people know that it’s actually not.”

“Yeah, it took Heather a whole year to not call Suni, Sunny and everyone just kind of follows her suit.”

“I thought you had class? I didn’t know you were still here.”

“I do. It’s just a lecture on the importance of mammograms and breast cancer research so, I guess it’s okay. I can just find it somewhere online.”

“Ready to head out?”

“Would you hate me if we stopped at my dorm? I cannot wear this fucking sweater for more than an hour or I may spontaneously combust.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to be seen with you in public while you’re wearing that.”

“I appreciate your honesty.”

“You should.”

Y/n and Soyeon escaped the general excitement of the rest of the girls by escaping out the outdoor gate and walked viciously together to change the heinous sweater on y/n’s back.

Turning the corner to finally reach the hall her single dorm room lived at the end of, she ran into a tall boy who’s books scattered all across the floor, a boy she had never once run into literally and physically.

“I'm so sorry.”

“No, no I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“You’re y/n right?”

“Yes? Why?”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. I live across the hall from you. I see your name tag on your door all the time and all the photos of you from all your friends. Which now that I’m talking makes me sound like even more of a weirdo? I’m sorry. I’m Seokmin, my friends call me DK or Dokyeom , whatever. And now I’m rambling, please stop me.”

“No, you’re okay. Can we at least just get off the floor now?”

“Yes.”

Seokmin or Dokyeom whatever his real name actually is, crawled off the floor and stuck his hand out to you for assistance pulling your pink colored body off the floor.

“This is my friend, Soyeon.”

“Sorority sisters?”

“Wait. How’d you know? Oh, fuck the sweater. Don’t tell anyone you saw me wearing this, I know where you live.”

“Don’t worry, I never will. But, sorry to uh, cut this meeting short I have to get to class. I’ll see you again, I’m sure. Bye, nice meeting you y/n. And you too, Soyeon.”

“Bye.”

In unison you and Soyeon watched the tall boy walk towards the elevators. Both of you have differing expressions of looks on your face, one of pure enjoyment watching the awkward interaction and one of pure dumbfoundedness.

“He’s cute.”

Soyeon brought you out of staring at the boy walking away and stepping into the elevator, throwing his fingers up waving goodbye while clutching his mounds of books in his hands.

“What?”

“I said he’s cute and he’s your neighbor. Lucky girl.”

“Oh. Yeah, I can’t believe I’ve never met him before.”

“Why don’t you ask him out?”

“We just met. Plus, I’m busy with school and now this stupid pageant. I don’t have time for cute boys.”

“I’m sure you can make it work.”

Unlocking your door and letting Soyeon in before you so you can sneak a peek at his front door in front of yours. Plain, just a few funny messages and cute stickers of tangerines and tigers pasted on his whiteboard. Maybe he already has a girlfriend? But a boy like that with that many books is probably much like you and had no time for dating.

“Wait. Y/N your room is so nice? Maybe I should move out of the house. It’s loud as fuck anyway.”

“Why are you in the sorority? I’m not judging because I was basically dragged into it too. I’m just curious?”

“My mom always wanted me to join. She said it’s a good way to find friends, I always had a hard time making them. So I figured why not?”

“Got it. Makes sense.”

“What about you? You also don’t serve sorority girl to me.”

“Because my mom also got me to join, that’s actually how I know Heather. Our moms were co-captains of the sorority at some point in the 80’s.”

“Oh, so you’ve known her your whole life?”

“Mhm.”

“No offense or anything, but she’s… kind of a bitch.”

“Kind of? It’s only gotten worse since she’s been in charge. She was okay when we were younger, but you know.”

Slipping out of your jeans and sweater, you threw on a black pair of pleated pants and a loose white button down.

“Also you have tattoos and a sick body, stop dressing like an old woman.”

“I could never pull off what you wear? You’re so cool and confident.”

“Promise me. One party this year you’ll let me pick out something to wear?”

“Okay.”

“You’re very trusting.”

“What? You’re going to make me wear a hot pink dress and try to dye my hair blonde too?”

“Hell no.”

“Exactly.”

Hours passed on as you were getting to know Soyeon more, a part of you realized what you had been missing meeting girls outside of your own circle at school.

People who share your interests and enjoy talking about things other than clothes, shoes, and boys.

It was actually the least stressed you’ve been around someone at the sorority in a long time. Almost like a breath of fresh air.

Getting out of the Uber you took filled to the brim with alcohol and snacks, you were back at the big White House at the end of the street. Not a flaw in sight. Almost like it wasn’t a real reality.

“Should we ditch the diner? We could always go see my friend play at the bar across campus instead?”

“I would love nothing more, but Heather will have my head shaved or something.”

“Okay, well when we ditch later we can head there.”

“It’s a date.”

“Ew, you’re so corny. Save it for your new lover boy across the hall.”

“Shut up.”

Soyeon and you laughed, dragging the last box up the stairs into the foyer of the house. Met with the blonde at the bottom of the stairs.

“There you guys are! I was going to send a search and rescue team to come for you if you didn’t show up soon.”

“We got a little distracted. Sorry.”

“No problem. You’re here now, Sam go up and get ready, I’ll help y/n from here.”

“Okay.”

Soyeon or Sam, picked her poison and shoved down Heather still calling her by the wrong name and walked up to her room to change and get ready for the rest of her night. While you were stuck unpacking the boxes.

“Y/n. Don’t forget to look out for the boys everyone brings tonight. We can pick one from the litter for your Nottie.”

“Look, Heather-“

“I know what you’re going to say and don’t even think about asking me if you can drop out of the pageant, okay?”

“I just don’t think it’s worth it or fair anymore, why don’t we just get the other frat guys to do it? Like Mingyu or Wonwoo, Johnny? I don’t know. I don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable.”

“You raise a good point. And it gives me an idea.”

“Which is?”

“We have the other frats competing too, we’ll get more payout and the three uglies will be more profitable than ever for us. You’re so smart.”

“That’s not wha-“

“Ah! I’m so lucky to have you. I’ll let everyone know.”

Heather bounced off into the other room, texting rapidly with her manicured hands on her cell phone, making the fire bigger.

With your head spinning around and around you don’t even remember walking your way to the diner waiting for the freshman girls to bring their guys along to the large table set for someone’s embarrassment.

Taking a seat near the end of the table next to Soyeon and Heather on your other side, you sat and sipped at the Diet Coke in front of you, feeling your mix of anxiety and angel swirling in your stomach and begging for something a little stronger.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Soyeon leaned over and whispered into your ear, seeing the look on your face and noticing your obvious quietness.

“I’ll tell you after.”

“Okay, if you want to go early, let me know.”

“I will”

Heather had her vulture eyes on, waiting to see which she would inevitably have embarrassed by the groups around you with no remorse.

She looked into your eyes and signaled to a cute shy boy across the table, sitting and picking at his nails, making it clear she had made her mark.

“Let me use the bathroom first okay?”

“Yeah, of course. You wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Right.”

Walking briskly into the old blue stalls in the bathroom, which you didn't even really have to use, but just needed an excuse to go somewhere and release your anxiety.

“Y/n? Hey. Y/n?”

Seeing Soyeon’s platform heels under the bottom of the stall door you jumped up and swung your head out of the blue metal.

“What?”

“Remember that guy you met today?”

“Yes, of course why?”

“He’s here.”

“Someone brought him?”

“No. He’s here with his two friends and Heather invited them to the table. One of them is that dude that’s friends with Mingyu with the that acts like a tiger, the hot nerdy one, and the other one is just some hot short buff guy, never seen him before. Anyway, We either have to get out of here right now or stay and hide in here until they're gone.” L

“Why don’t we just go-“

“No. I don’t want him to think you’re a bitch? Are you crazy? You can’t go dunking on nerds in front of three hot dudes?”

“Okay let’s go.”

As the two of you tried to make your exit from the ladies room you heard commotion outside in the dining room, so you both slipped back quickly into the bathroom, locking the door for some reason as you head the chairs scooting and the bell ringing meaning people were slipping out on one of the boys at the table.

“You think they're gone?”

“Yeah. I hear the sink running in the men’s room, come on.”

As you walked out of the bathroom in front of you Seokmin was sitting at the table covered in a turkey club sandwich looking at the long tab Heather left for him.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Your ‘sisters’ dumped a sandwich on me and left the tab? Do you guys do this a lot?”

“It’s just some stupid shit Heather came up with when she became president. Me and y/n were hiding in the bathroom so we could come and pay the tab. But, you got to it first.”

“Right.”

Not saying anything and standing in your tracks cold, you watched as Soyeon took the check from his hands and waved you on to help him as she went up to pay.

“She dumped her food on you?”

“Yeah, my friends and I were just coming for takeout. I saw Soyeon so I went to say hi and she wanted to come get you. But the blonde girl,”

“Heather.”

“Yeah, Heather. She told me to sit down for a second and my friends went back to their dorm so they could keep studying and deliver food to some other guys. She was okay at first, but once Soyeon left she dumped her soda and sandwich on me and when I came back they were all gone.”

“I’m so sorry? Let me get you dry cleaning money or something.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I can handle it. I’m glad you two were here though, I don’t have my wallet on me. Are you okay though? Have you been crying?”

“I’m fine, just had a moment.”

The small black haired girl popped back over, tucking her card back into her wallet and smiling at the two of you sitting and talking with Seokmin covered in an orange beverage, a little bit of lettuce stuck in his hair.

“Want to come to a party?”

“If it’s at the sorority then sorry, no thanks.”

“No. It’s just some of my friends from the music department. They’re playing a show at O’Malley’s.”

“I don’t think orange soda is really a good look for a party.”

“That’s okay, y/n has to go change too. You guys just meet me there? I’m going to head out and get us a table.”

“Well I do owe you guys both a drink. So, sure.”

“Oh, and Seokmin?”

“Yeah?”

“Make sure y/n actually comes back out, she’s hard to get her hands on.”

“Of course.”

Walking back to your somewhat shared dorm, you and Seokmin walked in silence past greek row, watching all the girls running around to get ready for a greeting ceremony to the frat houses as escorts to their party.

The boy looked at you up and down, imagining you inside one of those grand houses gossiping and dishing on sister life just trying to figure out why you joined in the first place, your friend included.

Reaching your destination with only smiles and small giggles shared between the two of you on the walk over, you both slid into your dorm rooms and found clothes that were far more suitable for a night out.

You noticed the black tank top Soyeon had pointed out before and slid it on, matching it with a pair of dark ripped jeans and your go-to loafers, sliding back into the hallway, finding Seokmin on the other side of the door waiting for you.

He was somehow on your wavelength wearing an oversized black t-shirt and jeans.

“I figured I should try to match Soyeon's aesthetic somehow.”

“Me too. You look nice, I like your shoes.”

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?”

“Yes. I definitely need a drink.”

“So, y/n what is your drink of choice.”

“Anything strong and not sweet.”

“Oh, so not me then.”

“Shut up.”

Seokmin made you laugh, there was no way a boy like him was not taken or at least could be interested in you.

“Have you and Soyeon been friends for long? You guys seem close.”

“Actually, not really. We hung out for the first time today. I mean, I’ve seen her at parties and stuff, but she’s sort of been like a breath of fresh air for me.”

“Really? I’m surprised by that. Why are you in the sorority anyway? You don’t exactly have the same.. Vibe? Or whatever as the other girls. Especially the ones I met today.”

“My mom. The girl. Heather. Soda spiller, her mom and mine were friends when we were kids, they're legacy members. So I just thought it would be fun, but now.. I don’t feel that way.”

“Can’t you just quit?”

“I guess.”

“Why don’t you want to?”

“I guess I just want to be someone who sees things through. I also can’t offer Heather the satisfaction of knowing I left.”

“She really is that bad huh?”

“Worse. It’s a long story. Can we table it?”

“Of course.”

Reaching the door of the bar, you caught a glimpse of Soyeon’s shoulder tattoo near the stage, through the large crowd of people mingling.

“Go. I’ll order us drinks and meet you there?”

“You sure?”

“You said you needed it right?”

“What about your wallet?”

“Apple pay, y/n. Duh.”

“Your ID?”

“My friend is the bartender, just go.”

“So sassy.”

Walking your way through the crowd by pushing yourself through other bodies you finally reach the girl on the other side and wrap your arm around her waist as a hello.

“What the- Oh my god, you actually came? You look so hot. I’m proud.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine. Where’s the puppy?”

“At the bar grabbing drinks.”

“On the leash already? You’re good.”

“No. He’s just nice.”

“True. But, he also likes you.”

“I don’t think it’s like that, but maybe someday you’ll tell me I told you so.”

“I look forward to it. I saved you guys a table.”

“My girl.”

Soyeon gestured her long manicured fingers behind you, noticing the boy making his way with two glasses in his hands and another tall figure following behind him holding a tray with various things on top.

“Hi, Soyeon.”

“Hi, Keom. Thank you for joining us. Who’s the glasses?”

“My friend Wonwoo, he works here, well he just got off. Is it cool if he joins us?”

“Of course.”

“Nice to meet you, Wonwoo. I’m y/n.”

“Hey.”

“So. Since I didn’t get to ask Soyeon what she wanted and I wasn’t entirely sure what you liked. We brought over options. But, we have to finish them all because Wonwoo was nice enough to gift them to us and it’s unfair to not accept gifts.”

“Very charming.”

You made your second flirty comment of the night to Seokmin, even though your sober self normally isn’t entirely as bold as you find yourself being with him now. But, in all fairness you were just trying to catch his vibe. He didn’t respond verbally, but just scrunched his nose in your direction almost as if he was letting you know that he’s interested.

“First, a simple vodka soda, little lemon, then just a couple of beer options, this is a sour, this is just a simple light beer, and an ipa, which ew, but I think Wonwoo likes, some tequila shots and some lemon drop shots, also a whiskey soda and a jack and coke, and then a uh, gin and tonic i think? Right, Woo?”

“Yeah, maybe you should be the bartender, Seokmin.”

“I have other talents.”

All eight of your hands reach every which way around the table and end up with different drinks sat in front of them, you beelined for the vodka and the sour beer, Soyeon went for the whiskey soda and the tequila, Seokmin for the gin and tonic and light beer, and Wonwoo for the jack and coke and the ipa.

“Who wants what shot?”

Soyeon dipped her arm back to the middle of the table covering her eyes with her opposite hand, grabbing a hold of the small glasses very carefully and placing them around the small group.

“There. Decided for you, me and Wonwoo get tequila and you and Seokmin get lemon.”

Smiling widely at your friend next to you, you grabbed a hold of the shot glass and held it up signaling everyone to cheers. Which they all happily obliged.

Soon after the alcohol was going through your bloodstream the band started playing their music that hit you right in the chest, songs about living your life to the fullest and choosing your own path, much to your surprise Soyeon was the one who wrote the music that spoke to your soul.

After the set ended, Wonwoo and Soyeon wanted to stay back and have a few more drinks to congratulate their friends, and enjoy their night, but you were beat thinking about all the work you still had to do over the weekend and dreading the choice of man Heather would embarrass. So you decided to leave with Seokmin walking you back safely to your dorm.

“What are you studying again?”

“Me? Oh, I’m studying to be a veterinarian.”

“Wow really? That’s cool, I didn’t know. You must be busy as hell.”

“I’m sure you’re just as busy, being a doctor for actual humans is way more complicated considering a lot of them are assholes.”

“That’s unfortunately true. But, I love it to be honest. I can understand why people are afraid of the hospital and surgery I guess.”

“That’s good, maybe we should study together sometime? I know it’s not the same exact thing or whatever, but it’s nice to have company?”

“I would love that, tomorrow? I mean if you’re free. We can go to the coffee shop or library or anything really?”

“Yeah, just knock around 10?”

“Okay. Cool. I’ll see you tomorrow??”

“Yes, absolutely. Have a good night, y/n”

“You too, Seok.”

Trying to get comfortable in your bed, some pesky person kept lighting up your phone screen, reaching over to turn on do not disturb you and realized it was Heather. She was asking a bunch of interrogating questions about your new friend Seokmin, begging you to bring him over tomorrow.

Unfortunately for you, you knew her interest in him was about to make your new relationship a very complicated one.

[acewritesfics]

Every Part of Me | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Request: Yes

Warnings: Fluff. Established relationship.

Word Count: 1,210

Stranger Things Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Y/N had a crush on Eddie Munson since they were in middle school. She had no idea his feelings for her were mutual. They weren’t exactly friends, but they were friendly until Eddie summoned the courage to ask her if she wanted to go see a movie with him when he stopped by her weekend job. He was taken aback when she agreed without hesitation. Their first date had been a little awkward, as nerves had gotten the best of them both. Eddie thought he’d ruined his chances with her by coming across too strongly, but those worries vanished when she called the next day, asking if he wanted to go out and do something that afternoon.  

Three months had passed since their first date, and it was a Tuesday, which meant Eddie’s band, Corroded Coffin, was performing at The Hideout. Y/N hadn’t been able to attend one of his gigs in the 12 weeks they’d been dating, so she was determined to go this Tuesday. She was the go-to babysitter on her street, but tonight she told everyone she had plans that took priority. She was finally going to see Eddie perform for the first time since middle school. She told her parents she was going to spend the night at a friend’s house working on a big project due on Friday. If her parents discovered where she was going, she would be grounded for the rest of her life even though she is 18.  

Y/N had gone straight to Eddie’s trailer after school to get ready for tonight. While Eddie was in the shower, she looked around his room, noting the metal band posters, dungeons and dragon's figurines, fantasy books on his shelf, all his cassette tapes and vinyl records, and, finally, his most prized possession, his electric guitar, hanging in front of his mirror. Everything in his room reflected him, and almost everything she cherished about him.  

Her attention is drawn to a shoe box partially hidden beneath his bed. She picks it up, unsure whether she should open it. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she reached for the lid when Eddie, who was walking into his bedroom, prevented her from opening it. His hair is wet, his wavy hair more defined, and he’s wearing nothing but black ripped jeans. He walks past her, picking up the clean Metallica shirt that was laying on his bed and shifting his gaze to the shoe box that was now sitting on his bed.  

“It was sticking out from under your bed. I wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be there,” Y/N explains before he can say anything, nervously awaiting his reaction.   

“It’s okay,” he says as he pulls on his shirt before putting on his leather and denim jackets. That box had been under his bed for a reason: he didn’t want anyone to see what was inside. It was too personal for him to share with just anyone.  

But, seeing the girl sitting on his bed, he knew he could show her what was in the box. He had an unwavering love for her and daily found himself falling more and more in love with her. He couldn’t show anyone what was inside the shoebox if he couldn’t show her.  

He picks up the box and puts it on his lap as he takes a seat next to her. “No one has seen what’s in this box except for me,” he says as he loosens the lid, “but I want to share it with you."   

"You don’t have to, Eddie,” she assures him, lovingly looking at him, touched that he would want to show her something he had never shown anyone else before.   

“I want to,” he says, assuring her. “I love you, and I want you to know every part of me."   

"I love you, too,” she says as she moves closer to him, kissing his shoulder and resting her chin on it.  

He turns his head, kisses her cheek, and lifts the lid of the box. He pulls out some Polaroid photos of a woman and a baby first. She was incredibly beautiful, with her thick, mousy brown hair and large brown eyes. Every day, she found herself getting lost in the same set of eyes.   

“Is that your mom?” she asks, peering between him and the woman in the photos. She noticed the resemblance. The same thick wavy hair, brown doe-like eyes, nose, and smile.  

“She is,” he says, nodding and smiling down at the photos. “I was young when she died. There aren’t many memories I have of her, but I do have these."   

"She was beautiful,” she says. “You look exactly like her."   

"You think I’m beautiful?” he asks, a smirk on his lips as he looks her in the eyes.   

“I do,” she says, both their cheeks turning a light shade of pink.  

He gives her a kiss before placing the pictures in the box and picking up a locket necklace. “Uncle Wayne stopped my father from selling this and gave it to me, so I kept and hid it.” He opens the locket to reveal that it is empty. “She never had the chance to put photos in it, but she wore it every day.”  

The locket was made of gold and had intricate flowers and leaves engraved on it. It was a gorgeous piece of jewellery, and she could see why Eddie’s mother wore it all the time.  

“Uncle Wayne told me that when I meet the right girl or have my own daughter, my mother would want me to give it to her,” he says as he closes the locket and looks at her. “I think my mother would have adored you,” he says. “And I believe she would like you to have it."   

"Eddie,” she exhales, raising her head from his shoulder, taken aback by his words.  

“Hear me out before you reject me,” he says, moving the box aside while still clutching the locket. “I’ve known you were that girl for a long time. You put up with my antics, don’t judge me for being a nerd with diverse interests, and accept me for who I am. You are the sweetest, most patient, kindest, most beautiful person I know, and I absolutely love you more than anything else in the world, including D&D. I want you to have it, and I believe my mom would as well. So, please, have it because I’m falling more in love with you every day and you’re my present and future.”  

Y/N couldn’t think of anything to say in response to his confession. Instead, she pressed her lips to his in a passionate kiss, her heart bursting with the amount of love she had for the young man she’d fallen hopelessly in love with over the last three months. Eddie returns her kiss, unlatching the locket and clasping it around her neck.  

After breaking the kiss, Y/N’s hand moves to the locket. “I love you so much, and I’m honored that you chose me to wear something so meaningful to your mother,” she said.   

“I love you, too,” he says. “And you’re the only one I want to wear it."   

She smiles and kisses him once more. 

[space-mermaid-writing]

The witchling and the god [Loki x Witch!Reader] Chapter 28

Summary: The Avengers were looking for someone to help Loki fit in with the team. To become socially acceptable, so to speak. He had been given the choice of sitting in a cell in Asgard or serving some sort of community service probation on Midgard. The Avengers and Shield both felt that as long as Loki was on Earth, he should be under supervision. This is now your job. Why? Because you’re a witch. You’re not sure why this qualifies you, but here you are, giving it a shot. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Witch!Reader, Magic, Witches, slow burn, everybody lives in the tower, character development, Loki‘s redemption, Stephen Strange is a friend, Loki and Stephen are frenemies, Tony Stark is a good bro, kids love Loki, Tony has stupid nicknames for everybody, eventual smut

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter’s Note: (My sister is in town and I'm STOKED! I haven't seen her in three years <3 spread the sibling love!) This story will end with a StrangeFrost friendship and you can’t stop me. Also, this one may be one of my favorite chapters. Beta by @zaria-04

Chapter 28: Confessions

The sanctums are safe places for all magic wielders, not just sorcerers of the Mystic Arts. Loki has known them since they were wooden temples and learned other ways in than through the front door. He walks through the rows of relics on display and examines them, curiously. Presumably it is not polite not to knock at the door. And he has every reason to be polite. But he’s still Loki after all and he needs to be at least a little bit dramatic.

It's not long before he hears the sound of fluttering fabric near him.

"Is that 'The Tome of Oshtur'?" Loki asks, looking at an ancient book that didn't quite fit between the other relics. "I thought it was lost."

"The very one. I found it by chance in the collection of a mage princess, and she gave it to me in thanks for my help."

At the explanation, Loki merely nods. Sounds like a regular Tuesday for a Sorcerer Supreme.

Stephen looks at him expectantly. He knows Loki hasn't come by just to chat about relics, and he's in no mood for small talk. So he waits in silence.

The Asgardian hesitates to reveal his true motives. He is not sure if it was the right decision to come here.

"Considered by the Witchling you're a friend of hers. You've known her for quite a while."

He hates that he has a hard time finding the right words, that he has to rely on Strange's help. But he is a god on an important mission.

Stephen remains silent, giving him all the time he needs. On the one hand, the sorcerer is curious to know what it is all about. On the other hand, it amuses him to see Loki struggle.

"Do you know anything about any of her encounters with witch hunters in her past?"

Stephen raises a brow. "Why don't you ask her?"

"She doesn't exactly talk to me at the moment," Loki confesses.

The sorcerer eyes him thoughtfully for a while before shaking his head. "I'm not interested in getting involved in your relationship drama." He turns away. "You know the way out."

"Please."

This single word is enough to stop Stephen right in his tracks. The sorcerer looks at him, as if he couldn't believe his ears.

Loki has clenched his hands into fists, but he stands by his word. "I messed up and I'm trying to fix it." He is angry. Mostly at himself, but also at Strange. A Sorcerer Supreme is supposed to be better and help people in need. Sure, this isn’t a magical emergency, but still. "So if you would please help me."

Stephen’s eyes soften a bit. "I noticed it’s somewhat of a delicate subject. She didn't tell me what happened, but I know trauma when I see one. My medical opinion is that she has an old psychological wound that never fully healed and that has probably ripped open with the incident around her brother."

Loki thinks about his words. It helps him only insofar as he sees his suspicions confirmed. There must be something in your past, some incident that has shaped you. And Loki has pressed his thumb right into that open wound. It's so typical of him. He has a talent for these things, except that he usually does it on purpose. But he didn't mean to hurt you this time. Not really.

"Have you told her what you feel for her?"

Loki looks up, torn from his thoughts and remembers he's still standing in the Sanctum. "No."

"Maybe you should. What I learned is that you shouldn't wait too long with it. Not if it's truly important to you. Especially in her current state."

The conversation has taken a turn Loki never expected. It’s the last thing he wants to talk about with the Sorcerer Supreme.

"Any news on the last piece of Bloodweeper?" Loki asks to change the topic and to distract it from himself. He has unwillingly shown Strange a vulnerable side of himself and he isn't sure if he's okay with that.

Fortunately Stephen takes the hint and shakes his head. "No. Negotiations are ongoing, but so far the museum is unwilling to hand over the necklace." If that remains the case, he would initiate other methods. There are ways to get the artifact without a non-magically gifted person noticing.

"Are you storing the other parts here in the Sanctum?" Loki's curiosity is piqued, but Stephen shuts it down immediately.

"Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. I'm five seconds away from sending you into another falling dimension with those questions."

"I wouldn't fall for the same trick twice," Loki smirks and Stephen does the same.

"We'll see about that."

~~

You couldn't stand it to be in the tower and returned to your cottage, where night has already fallen. Sleep is out of the question – you aren’t tired at all – so you first clean up your kitchen - after all, the news about the fight between Thor and Loki has pulled you out of work - and then flip through some old photo albums. There are photos of you and your siblings from decades past. Some still taken with roll film, some with Polaroid, and some more recent digital prints.

Elizabeth keeps the really old pictures, portraits and sketches from before photographs were invented. There are pictures of all the siblings, even those who are no longer alive. It’s important for you not to forget what they looked like. Sometimes - like now - you feel as if you are seeing these memories from your past lives for the first time, as if it were no more than someone else's pale memory. Time does that, whispers the small voice in your head, curiously absorbing all knowledge.

Eventually, you make yourself some tea and go to bed. Tomorrow you will visit Elizabeth and Gabriel. It always helps you to talk to them if you don't feel good. It's too late for today.

You are still hurt by Loki's words as you make Eloise's order the next morning. Your sister hasn't answered your text message yet about when she's free today, so you throw yourself into work. Unfortunately, that gives you way too much time to think.

Ever since Loki and you started this relationship, he has always been gentle with you, understanding and kind. But you remember all too well how cold and venomous he was in the beginning when you first met. When you started the job at the Avenger’s. Before Loki opened up to you.

And you know that his mood is caused by the same issues as it was back then: the conflict with his father, with his home.

It's something he probably won't be able to resolve anytime soon. Things like that can last a whole lifetime. At least your lifetime, which is way shorter than his.

With his words, Loki has awakened familiar fears in you. You are just a simple human compared to him and Thor. So what are you to him? A pastime? It seemed too honest to you for that. There are real feelings involved, you're sure of it. Both on your side and on his. But how deep do they go?

It's all messed up.

You're directing some flying ingredients to the pot and stirring them in it when you notice a noise.

"That's a nice witch kitchen you got here."

You turn around and see the Sorcerer Supreme standing in your kitchen. He is wearing his blue robes, but without the cloak.

You frown at his unannounced appearance. "Ever heard of knocking?"

"I'll remember that next time." The corners of Stephen's mouth twitch upward.

With a wave of your hand, you lower the still-flying kitchen utensils onto the counter. "Is there something important you're here for? I'm sorry, but I'm not in the mood for company."

"Yeah, I heard about that. So you're going to hole up here? You're going to hide when problems rise?" Stephen asks with a dark look on his face.

That's rich coming from him. The Sorcerer Supreme himself is often nowhere to be found. And anyway, you don't think he's in a position to judge. You sigh softly and turn back to your potion. It must now simmer for some time and soak in. "That reverse psychology doesn't work for me. Try being nice instead."

His next words are so soft you almost miss them. "He loves you."

You stop in your motion, your hand halfway to grasping a ladle. "Did he tell you that?" you ask in a small voice. Your mouth feels very dry all at once.

"Well, that's not quite-..."

"I'll believe that when I hear it from his own mouth," you interrupt the sorcerer rudely. You don't understand why Stephen is even getting involved in this. Maybe he's afraid Loki will start doing stupid things when you're not with him. But you're not his babysitter. And right now, you wouldn’t care even if the Asgardian set something on fire.

"I love you."

You're surprised when suddenly it's not Stephen's voice you hear but Loki's, and you whirl around. The Asgardian is standing where the sorcerer was a moment ago, in the same pose, as if it were him all along.

"And you wonder why I've trust issues."

Loki offers you an apologetic smile. "Would you have listened to me if I had come as me?"

"I don't know. Probably not," you admit. Your heart pounds loudly in your chest, "I don't know what to say…" Your thoughts are racing. Loki's unannounced visit, his confession, your argument that still lingers in your ears. The confession was exactly what you wanted to hear. But not like this. Not under these circumstances.

Contrary to his usual manner, Loki seems uncertain and waits for your reaction. But he takes the fact that you don't immediately throw him out as a good sign, and he approaches you slowly. "You once asked me if I'm not able to lie or if I choose not to lie. The truth is, I'm able to sense lies but I cannot lie myself." He stops in front of you and wants to put his arms around you and pull you to him. But he keeps his hands at his side. "There aren't many people who actually know this. I believe even Thor isn't entirely sure of it."

You glare at him. "How do I know that's true?"

"You don't." Loki's lips turn into a bitter smile. "That's the irony of it. You have to trust me."

You think about it and surprisingly you do. The Asgardian twists words to his liking, he says things you don't like, but you don't think he has ever truly lied to you. So if this is true, he just revealed his biggest secret to you. And confessed his love to you. This is a lot of trust he puts into you and you know that isn’t easy for him.

"I'm sorry about what I said. I wish I could say I didn't mean it," Loki apologizes as the pause becomes too long. "Everything you do amazes me. You have been kind and forgiving, patient with me. And I'm paying you back by taking my anger out on you, when you're the last one who had anything to do with it."

"I know," you finally say. "I know it wasn't me you were angry at. You just happen to push your finger into an old wound. One that should have healed by now."

"Please tell me what happened. When the witch hunters caught you."

And once again, Loki hits the bull's eye with his words. You consider it for a moment. It's something you've tucked away in a drawer of your brain that you never want to open again. But Loki took a step in your direction after your argument, probably two or three, and now it's up to you to take the next one.

"Do you want tea?" you ask him, because there's no way you're telling this story while standing in the middle of your kitchen. "I need some. But first, this."

You bridge the last bit to Loki and put your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Circumstances are never what you want them to be. Maybe you should just take what you get. You're still hurt by his words, but since he came to you and apologized, you are willing to work this out.

The Asgardian hugs you tightly and exhales in relief. You feel a gentle kiss pressed onto your head and you look up to him. "You have one hell of a timing."

You smile watery and cup his face. Your hands shake and you feel the pounding of your heart all the way up into the back of your head, but you cover it up. It's a fear that always gets you when it comes to the subject you're about to approach. But it will never go away if you continue to ignore it.

"I love you too. How could I not? You're a weirdly attractive magic god from space." You mean it. Maybe it's just fitting for the both of you to confess your feelings in a situation like this. Your relationship with the Asgardian has been a hell of a ride so far.

For the first time since you've known him, maybe even in his life, Loki remains silent. He just looks at you, with a new light in his eyes, a spark you have never seen before. And with that, he says more than any word could. His fingers slide up effortlessly to caress your cheek, and he leans in to kiss you sweeter than he has ever before.

It just lasts for a few seconds, but it makes you smile.

"Now, sit down. I'll make tea."

"Yes, m’lady."

You turn to the stove and take down your potion, put a kettle of water instead on the open flame. At the same time, you levitate two cups from the cabinet to your right to the table. It’s a distraction to concentrate on this simple task and to calm your trembling hands. It almost feels like they are moving on their own, stored in your muscle memory. It's a strange feeling. But it helps you take a breath.

You owe it to Loki to tell him the story.

The tea water is ready faster than you'd like, and you fill both cups with the steaming liquid before taking a seat next to Loki. A lump has formed in your throat and you find it difficult to speak. Loki has taken your hand and waits quietly until you are ready.

"They hanged me," you finally say, your voice small. "I was lucky, though. My neck didn't break and I could use my magic to get free.

Your eyes are glued on your interlaced fingers. His are cool and it helps to keep you grounded.

"It wasn't witch hunters per se, but people from the village where I lived. I knew them all by name, had helped them whenever they needed help. It was a dark time, fear was stirred up. People were suspicious of everything they didn’t understand."

For the longest time afterwards you had seen their faces in nightmares. They had haunted you. Over the decades, they've become more and more blurred, and now you can barely remember their features. You don't know if it's because of the time that has passed or if your mind has simply repressed it.

There is a certain bitterness in your next words as you finally look at Loki. "That was 200 years ago now, and I still can't wear necklaces or even turtlenecks because it's too tight around my throat, it makes me feel like I'm suffocating." Your fingertips ghost over the sensitive skin on your neck. It's something that bothers you, a constant reminder of what happened. As if, after all this time, it still feels like they have power over you, have you trapped.

Loki remembers the day he found out you were a witch. He had grabbed you by the throat and you had reacted violently. He remembers that whenever he was in the form of a snake, you warned him not to wrap himself around your neck. You never wear anything near your neck and suddenly it all makes sense. It's so obvious that he's surprised he didn't notice it sooner. Your physical scars have healed, but the mental ones still lie raw open.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, making a vague gesture of his hand to your neck. You understand what he means.

Your lips twist into a tentative smile and you don’t really know what to answer. "Yeah…"

Loki's hand finds yours and he squeezes it. For a while you just sit there in silence, each busy with your own thoughts. Sometimes it doesn't take many words; you probably wouldn't find any right now anyway. In the background, your potion is still bubbling, and you'll have to get to it soon.

Loki catches your gaze. "Are you still in no mood for company?"

"I'm still a bit angry at you and I've got work to do." You point to your stove. "How about we meet...," with a quick glance at your clock you calculate the time difference to New York, "...for lunch tomorrow?"

"Your wish is my command." Smiling, the Asgardian leans toward you and steals a fleeting kiss. You place a hand on the back of his neck and intensify the kiss before pushing him away from you.

"Okay, now leave, Princeling." There's no longer an edge to your voice.

________________________

The Witchling and the Princeling ♥

The god of lies not being able to lie and therefore a master of twisting the truth ← That idea kicked down the door into my head while writing and declared itself home. After finishing writing, I went through everything Loki said in this whole fic to make sure he never told a lie.

The poem from the header image: Softly my thoughts whispered invisible words. My mind was a calm chaos filled with reflection of you. I wanted to find myself and i did when I found you.

Tag List: @lokisgoodgirl @lokixryss @itsybitchylittlewitchy @yokshi-unbeliebubble @fictional-hooman @elennair @all-envy-suyu @purplekitten30 @elisadmaggiore @nothing2113 @ceo-of-stfu @moonlightreader649 @ronipiamka @fluffybunnyu @ninjarose23 @ozymdias @huntress-artemiss @sofi786 @thedistractedagglomeration @rosaline-black @msrawog @moonlightreader649 @paetonnn @eldriidd @r4inlov3r @eleniblue @eleniblue @maeisonline @marvel-love24 @sinsandguilt @kalinaselennespeaks @ohtellmelove @eleniblue @hyojin-2579 @just-someone11 @marygoddessofmischief @fall-myriad @melavoris @baebeepeach

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

As per the poll Tuesday, we've got Gremlinverse (delayed to noon because of errands I had to run) shenanigans: specifically Jak discovering disadvantages to his new size.

At first, Jak had enjoyed the Underground's reaction to his new stature. He was used to being underestimated, but when what seemed to be a ten year old kid blew up a deathbot, their reactions were so much funnier. They were nicer to him, too. Well, that might’ve been because they were patronizing him. That's what Daxter seemed to think. Tess, on the other hand, was sure that it was more about guilt.

Seeing their tank so much smaller and more vulnerable, she insisted, was a wakeup call. It meant they had to come to terms with the fact that they'd repeatedly endangered the very people the Underground had been supposed to protect.

Jak thought it was a nice sentiment, but unlikely. After all, Torn hadn't thought twice before giving up little Mar’s location to Praxis when he thought Ashelin's life was on the line.

Besides, he didn't need hollow contrition. "We're sorry" was easy to say, but meaningless if they were still treating him like a glorified errand boy.

They hadn’t sent him on any real missions since he'd come back from the Nest, but that may have been because Sig was watching them like a glinthawk, just waiting for one of them to cross a line. But that brought Jak to a new problem: the longer he hung around headquarters, the more they started treating him like an actual kid.

He had almost seventeen-

Okay, that wasn't true. He had twelve years of memories and experience. Just because his body was small and his emotions were big didn't mean he suddenly didn't understand anything! And it certainly did not mean he required assistance getting up onto taller objects!

The first time it happened involved Jak dangling from the Underground leader’s grip. He glared, looking like he wanted to rip Torn's hair out. Coincidentally, Torn also looked like he wanted to rip Torn’s hair out.

"What, so Mar and Daxter can sit on your nasty table, but I'm not allowed?" Jak challenged.

"First of all-" Torn closed his eyes and took a calming breath. "Mar is a toddler and he was getting underfoot. Daxter was a rat and you would've stabbed me if I'd thrown him off the table."

From the spartan bunks along the wall, Daxter snorted and looked up from trying to remember how shoelaces worked.

"Well, he got an accurate read on that, at least."

Jak folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. It was actually a very endearing expression, but Torn had been around him too long to be swayed by it.

"Well you're the one who made me work for you guys, and technically I wouldn't have shrunk if you hadn't betrayed us to Praxis, so if I climb on stuff you're just going to have to deal with it."

Torn lifted Jak a little higher with a frosty look. "Watch it, brat. You cause trouble on purpose and I might just put you in the Junior Freedom League to straighten you out."

Clearly, this was the wrong thing to say.

The next thing Daxter knew, Torn had dropped Jak with a high-pitched wheeze of pain. The former KG was doubled over and in clear distress, and Jak was on the table again. The former ottsel shook his head and went back to fighting with the boot laces.

"Brutal," he commented, "but not unprovoked."

The next time someone tried to pick him up without permission, it was Brutter.

Compared to Torn, Jak was far more forgiving with Brutter. Most likely because Brutter had treated him like an equal from the very beginning, and even now acted as though nothing had changed. So when Daxter brought Jak with him to do a little pro bono pest control on Brutter's fishing boat, the Lurker hadn't had any objections to letting Jak crawl through the vents with the plasma swatter. (Jak could tell why Daxter liked the swatter so much. It made a really fun splat when hitting metalbugs.)

He'd chased the pests from one end of the cabin to the other, filling his pockets with metalbug gems as he went. Under normal circumstances they would have been Daxter's pay, but Jak was the one crawling through the dusty vents. If Dax wanted them, he'd have to come take them.

Almost unrecognizable with dust and bits of metalbug exoskeleton, Jak had finally crawled out and bumped into Brutter's leg. As if on instinct, Brutter reached down without looking and scooped Jak up off the floor.

"Hey!" Jak yelped.

Brutter's eyes snapped down to the filthy kid he was holding under the arms, and he blinked twice before letting out a loud hoot of laughter.

"Brother Jak!" he laughed, setting him down, "You not little baby Babak! You big kid! I forgot we not home with tribe for a moment."

He took off his glasses and wiped them on his coat, then squinted at Jak again.

"Oh, Jak really is that dirty. Was not imagining baby Babak hair then."

Jak rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah. No charge for the extra vent cleaning as long as you don't tell Daxter about this."

"My lips are sealing, Brother Jak," said Brutter agreeably. He stepped back and obligingly did not cough when Jak sent up a cloud of dust and lint while brushing himself off.

"Many thanks for stopping to help with buggy pests! I am not wanting to drag you two away from hero business."

Jak flashed a genuine smile at Brutter. "Hey, we can always make room in the schedule for a brother. That's what a tribe is for, right?"

Brutter laughed again. "Ah! Brother Jak and Orangey Pal should have been born Babak. Already you have the heart of one."

Jak’s smile widened. "Really? Uh, th- thanks, Brutter."

Alright. The rest of Haven's current leadership could go kick rocks, but "Captain" Brutter was okay. He still went out of his way to make Jak feel accepted.

Daxter's voice echoed up the hall as he made his way in from the deck.

"Found the problem! One of these fish swallowed a metalbug egg."

He dragged the offending carp behind him, wrinkling his nose the whole way. Between thumb and forefinger he held the split fish carcass out towards Brutter.

"Ugh," he gagged, "Now I gotta sweep the whole harbor and make sure there's no submerged nests. That's disgusting."

He glanced up and blanched.

"Speaking of disgusting: Jak! What happened to you?!"

Jak didn't think he was that dirty.

Daxter did not agree.

And unfortunately, Daxter was now bigger than Jak.

When they got back to the newly christened Naughty Ottsel and Daxter threatened "tub or dish pit sink", Jak remembered that being the smaller one came with some distinct disadvantages.

And that this was most likely karma coming back to bite him for all the times he'd (literally) dragged Daxter into his reckless exploration.

"Dax-" Jak ducked and slid behind a table. "Look, I'll just rinse off in the bay. It's fine."

"Fine?!" Daxter sputtered, "You're a walking health code violation! Hey-! Get your metalbug guts-coated hands off my tables! I have to sanitize those now!"

Tess watched with some amusement from behind the bar. "Hon, you're gonna need a real bath eventually. You have the kind of hair that requires regular maintenance if you don't want it to break."

Sitting on the counter, Mar waved a pudgy hand in front of his face. "Jak stinky," he agreed.

"Traitor!" Jak hissed from under the table.

That was all the distraction Daxter needed. The gangly teen stooped down and seized Jak by the ankle. What commenced was a skirmish that rivaled the fights Krew used to host in the Hip-hog's boxing ring. Chairs were knocked over, paintings fell from walls, and at least one table was overturned.

Mar watched with interest as Jak dodged and squirmed and overall did an excellent impression of a fluid. When the insults started getting particularly creative, Tess sighed and leaned forward to cover Mar's ears.

Several patrons entered, only to take one look at the two boys tussling amid upended chairs and immediately back out again.

"Sig!" Daxter hollered at the next person to enter the bar, "Sig, gimme a hand before he contaminates the whole establishment!"

Jak slid out of Daxter's grip and made for the door. "Don't you dare, Sig!"

Concerned, the Wastelander shut the door and turned to Tess for an explanation.

"It's Wash Day," she said with a shrug.

"Ah." Sig narrowed his eye. "What kind of product you got?"

"Um...I've got a hydrating brand from uptown," Tess answered, "And I have a little bit of that hair mask you use, but there's not much left."

"That's not bad." He snorted. "I thought you were gonna say bar soap with the way he's flippin' out."

Sig set down his Peacemaker and waded into the fray. He caught Jak by the back of the shirt and hefted him up under one arm like the world's angriest suitcase. Before Daxter had time to thank him, he'd been hoisted up by the scruff of the neck.

"Well cherry, if your plan was to take Daxter down with you, you've certainly managed," Sig said dryly. "Now you both need a wash."

Tess pushed off the counter. "I'm gonna go run a bubble bath. It'll do you good."

"No!" Jak kicked and squirmed, but Sig’s grip held firm. "I'm not a little kid! Nobody is bathing me! Besides, they're just gonna send me out to crawl through sewers again or something anyway. What's the point?!"

When he looked up, Sig was scowling.

"They better not send you back out today," Sig threatened. "I got some Wastelander friends coming by to make sure you and Mar are okay. If you aren't there when they turn up, they're liable to turn the city upside down looking for you."

Jak stopped squirming. "Huh?" He wrinkled his nose. "Why me? What do they want me to do?"

Sig took the moment of peace to hurry up the stairs behind the bar to Tess’s apartment. Gooseberry scented soap already drifted in occasional bubbles from the tiny bathroom.

"Well, most likely they're gonna want you to go home with them." Sig glanced down at Jak and prayed the spitfire would take it well. "It's where Mar was born. We were thinking you could stay for a while, y'know? There's room for you both."

Tess poked her head out of the bathroom. "Hey, sorry, but we've got kind of a bubble apocalypse in here. Mar got a little excited with the soap bottle."

Mar was not the slightest bit sorry.

With a snort, Sig finally set the boys down. "You see the state of these two? What can it hurt?"

Tess grimaced. "Yeah...you guys leave your clothes in my shower before you get in the tub, okay? I'll put out something clean you can change into."

Daxter nudged Jak. "You first, squirt."

Jak leveled a chilling glare at him. "Just so you know, I am going to use up all the hot water."

"This is why we use hot springs baths in Spargus," Sig sighed. "We don't have to bother with who gets the hot water. Jak, rinse your hair real good and when you get out I'll show you how to wash it without drying it out."

"Uh...it's supposed to dry out?" Jak raised an eyebrow at Sig. "That's what happens after you get out of water?"

Sig drew a hand down his face and groaned something that sounded like "Damas owes me for this", but they couldn’t be sure.

[carmenized-onions]

Ad Interim. | No Service

logline; The days and doubts and desires; the air, underneath the shoe.

[!!!] series history, this is the ninth; the amount of links are getting nauseating just go to the landing LMAO.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. I listen to this playlist too much in my day to day now, fr.

portion; 3k+

possible allergies; you're almost ten chapters in, you know very well by now that these two are rife with anxiety and insecurity.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (gets she/her'd mb)

fun fact: i finished this one 19 hours after the last chapter, whoops, but let it sit in my drafts to give some breathing room and do some rework

It is t-minus three days, until the worst Friday of your life.

But today’s Tuesday, and though you feel a touch uneasy, you figure it’s probably just the breakfast from yesterday at La Mattina settling in your stomach— Or, at least, hope it is.

You’re at home, sitting on your couch, pensive, haggard, leaned over. Elbows to knees, prayer hands to face, staring at your phone on the coffee table in front of you.

Just send it. Just send the text. Don’t be a fucking wuss. You’ve re-written it in your notes app like five fucking times— He does not care this much, he doesn’t even have basic reading comprehension— Okay, that’s mean— But it’s just not that deep. Just fucking! Send it!

Actually no, no, upon sixth review, the paragraph you had written out was way too intense, way too presumptive. Backspace, backspace, backspace—Just say hi. Let’s just start with Hi.

‘Yooooooooo’

Are you fucking possessed? Good Lord. How is he already typing he never used to reply this fast, what the fuck—

‘Are u fucking haunted?’

‘Fuck is yooooooo’

‘Yooo to you too, cousin’

Faster texter now, but Richie is still the same guy, at the end of the day.

‘this is a loaded fucking question’

‘but do you think you’ll be free any time this week?’

‘not unless ur dead or dying’

‘are you dead or dying?’

‘not that I’ve heard’

‘but I was thinking maybe we could like, get food or smth’

‘chat one on one. Been a minute, yknow’

That was too much. You didn’t need to do all that. Now he’s gonna go well who’s fault is that? And it’s yours. You know it’s yours. And then you’re gonna have that fucking conversation— Which is what this whole meet up thing was supposed to be about in the first place—

‘heard’

‘can’t get time off but fak needs to have his training wheels ripped’

‘could have dinner at the bear this week? Like 2 hours. Then I can watch him and keep him from shitting the bed’

‘and still get to do a fucking one on one, you corporate speak ass’

‘I didn’t know how else to fucking say it alright!!!!!!’

‘Dinner @ bear sounds good to me’

‘but probably ask carm/syd first if it’s cool’

‘yea yea I’ll fuckin check in with daddy don’t worry’

‘that sucked for me. That sucked to read. Go to jail.’

‘already have.’

‘I’ll let u know a time when I know. See u chip’

You heart it. The classic signal that it’s the end of a conversation. Holy shit. You did it. You actually texted someone that you miss that you miss them— Not directly, but you know Rich knows. And specifically, to book a dinner, to talk about what happened, to apologize for it. That’s pretty fucking huge. Which means—

It’s time to eat a whole freezer cake and lay in your pyjamas all day and interact with not a single soul on this entire planet. You’re absolutely at your social limit, for the day. Maybe you’ll talk it through with Mikey, actually. To the air, more accurately, but, y’know, same thing.

You’re gonna get dinner with Richie. You’re gonna get dinner, with Richie, this Friday. And it’s not gonna be awkward or weird, at all.

It is t-minus two days, until the worst Friday of Carmen’s life, so far, at least. There’s always next year.

But today’s Wednesday, and though he feels a little nerve-wracked, he’s pretty sure it’s just because the kitchen was so fucking dysfunctional this morning, and now that their prep’s off, the tempo of the whole fucking day is off, and they're behind on two tables. And fucking seriously this time, can someone get him a fucking marker that fucking works.

Okay, maybe it’s a little more, than nerve wracked.

Sydney is ever the intuitive, and always correct, at the station next to him— Because yes, they’re still down a hire since the meth guy, so now Carmen is on line.

She can tell, that somethings wrong with him, something’s always wrong with him. “Take your ten, Chef.”

Carmen shakes his head, obviously, there’s still prep to catch up on. And if he doesn't do it, it's not gonna get done, and even if it does get done, it's not gonna get done right. He’s pressing the dead sharpie down on the tape, like if he just brute forces it, it’ll start to work. “M’good, Chef.”

“Carmen.” She turns to him fully, stopping her work. And so, he does too. “Take your fucking ten.” She deadpans, she’s not taking no for an answer. She rubs her fist over her heart.

Carmen takes a beat, before nodding, doing the same. “Heard, Chef.”

He needs to look over expense reports that he can’t quite comprehend, anyways.

He really needs his sister. He steps into his office. Despite the fact that they re-constructed just about everything in the restaurant, this musty office remains the same. Untouched. After caving down walls, they had to cut the budget somewhere. He’s glad though, that it's untouched. It might be crowded, poorly organized, have an off smell (probably because of the birth in here, just a few weeks back), but it’s exactly as his brother left it, and that helps him feel… Connected, somehow.

What the hell is Var vs Budget? He’s googling every other word, here. He’s more than grateful, that before going home on mat leave, Sug set up a good enough automated Excel sheet that he could just plug in numbers and it did all the calculating for him. Doesn’t mean he knows what any of the numbers mean, but, they’re there.

He knows that red equals bad. Natalie told him that very specifically. Which did seem like she was calling him fucking stupid, but he let it go. There’s a lot of red. That’s a lot of bad. Well, not a lot, but like, a third of this is red. That’s probably more than it should be. How many months do they have again? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He is never gonna get to pay himself, he’s never gonna be able to pay Syd, he's never gonna get her a star, she’s gonna live with her dad for the rest of her life, you are never gonna get to work here, you’re gonna work as a bottle girl for the rest of your life, he’s never gonna get his shit together so he’s never gonna get to call you his, he’s gonna have to hand the deed to Cicero and then fucking everyone is gonna to lose their jobs and he’s still gonna be him. He’s still gonna be him. Carmy Berzatto, the chef that lost everything, little brother to everyone's hero who blew his brains out. Starless in Chicago, unable to feel anything more than sorry for himself. Carmen’s gonna die as Carmen, and nothing more. At the end of the day.

Take a deep breath, Bear. Relax.

He’s catastrophizing. You told him that. He forgot to look into it. He googles that, instead of another business term he doesn’t understand.

‘Fixates on the worst possible outcome and treats it as likely, even when it is not.’

Well, it does seem pretty fucking likely that he’s doomed to fail and fall into a Sisyphean nightmare of opening restaurants and falling on his fucking face, dragging everyone he loves down with him with his stupid failed pipe dreams. He's no better than his brother.

He tries his best to think of whatever level-headed bullshit you'd give to him, right now, tries to taste the hot chocolate, the lavender and cardamom coffee. He smells your shampoo, in his hair, that helps.

Maybe, maybe it’s just been a bad week. Maybe there will be a lot of bad weeks, maybe there won’t be. Maybe things will be fine, maybe they won’t. You and Syd will still succeed, even if he fails. Everyone will, even if he fails. He has a very capable crew. And while he cannot escape the thought that failure is around the corner, at the very least, he is comforted by the idea that at least he will be the only one sinking with the ship he commands.

The thought of drowning alone is still impossible to rid of. Though.

But you’ve sent a text. And isn’t that a wonderful distraction?

Your connection results in response to his, from this morning, of course. You actually got it today. He swells with what feels like pride, and despite the fact that no one's looking at him, he has to hide his smile with his hand, embarrassed by how happy he is, when he sees the photo you’ve sent, just now. A selfie, sitting next to an oven, Other Tony’s oven. You’re holding a fried wire in your hand.

The text below it is a wonderful salve, ‘If you ever fuck up your ovens, I’ve got like, 10 thermocouples in my personal stock now :))’

So good to him, too good to him. Too good to anyone. ‘Heard.’

Carmen so, so fucking desperately wants to ask you to come to The Bear, right now. You’re only two blocks away, at La Mattina. You’d come, if he asked. He knows that. But he also knows that even if you calm him down, in the long run, it’ll set his day even further off tempo, he’ll be distracted the rest of his shift, and that’s the last thing he needs. He can handle this himself.

‘:)’ For levity. Or something. He’s trying. You give it a heart, so that means he’s done something good, he’s pretty sure.

There’s a knock at his door. Richie does not wait for an answer before coming in. His knocks are more like warnings, really. Carmen’s quick to tuck his phone away, he knows it’d be perfect cannon fodder to be teased into oblivion.

“Aye, cous—”

Carmen does not let the man get a word in inch wise, “Who’s on expo?”

Richie grimaces, this fucking song and dance, again. “Syd.”

“Who’s on her station, then?”

“T.”

“And hers?”

“She’s doin’ fuckin’ both Carmy— And—” Richie pulls a sharpie out of his breast pocket, throwing it at him. Carmen catches it. “Fuckin’ works. Alright?”

Marker works, and the system works. He catches the double meaning, too. Carmen nods, “Heard.”

“Christ.” Richie looks to high heaven, looks to his best friend, really, to give him strength. “Can I take my fuckin’ turn now?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ‘head.” Carmen turns to his desk, looking over the excel sheet, again. He can’t imagine Richie needing all of his undivided attention, right now, he’s not you.

Speaking of you, he can’t find your repair expenses anywhere on here. He needs to text Sug, about that. No, she’s got a fucking baby, he’ll at least look for a physical copy, first.

“I need to take two hours, on Friday.”

“Huh?” Carm’s head snaps up. Okay, maybe he does need to give his full attention to Richie, right now. “Eva got a fuckin’ recital, or somethin’?”

“No, no, uh— Chip wants to get dinner.” Rich scratches his nose with his thumb. “Thought since Fak's been training to host f'like, the whole fuckin’ month, could do dinner 'ere, let him do a run on us. Two birds, one bullet, y’know.”

“It’s stone.”

“I’m not fuckin’ high, cousin—” “No, it’s— Alright.” Carmen closes his eyes, hand over his face, deciding this is not the fight he wants to choose. “Tony’s getting dinner with you?”

“If I’m allowed, your fuckin’ Majesty.”

If it were up to Carmen? He wouldn’t be. But you specifically asked. Why, he has no idea. Carmen crosses his arms. “Yeah, yeah, s’fine. Just start at like, a not peak time. Like 4:30? Then when rush starts after 5 Fak’ll have a lil' momentum.”

“Heard. I’ll tell ‘em.” Richie nods, turning to make his way out.

Carm’s leg bounces, a tick that he’s pretty sure he’ll never get rid of. “… Ey Rich?”

He stops, turning back to Carmy, “Yeah, cousin?”

Carmen taps the end of the sharpie on the table, not looking at Richie, “What’s uh— Why d’you call Tony ‘Chip’?”

Ever so slightly, Richie’s brows furrow. “Did'j'ya ask her?”

Carm shakes his head, “S’why I’m asking you.”

Richie takes a beat, head rocking to the side, “Y'should ask her, she’ll tell you.”

Carmy squints, at that, “Is it fuckin’ dark or somethin’, cousin?”

What’s so secretive about Chip? He figured it would be some stupid inside joke with chocolate chips, like Sug with the salt mix up. Richie swallows, frowning just a bit. He clearly does not know how to answer this question, which just makes Carmen even more curious.

“S’ not dark, kinda, it’s just, y’know. Personal.” Since when the fuck did Richie have respect for personal? Probably since he sent him to stage. Goddammit.

“Did you not coin it?”

“Mikey did.”

Oh.

Huh.

Mikey got to do that first, too, eh?

“But, y’know, ask her, she likes you well enough to tell you, I think.” Richie shrugs, palms out. “Kinda tells stories like that better than me, anyways.” That's high praise— Not in the sense that Richie's a great storyteller, but that he's willing to admit it, for you.

“Oh, she doesn’t bury the fuckin’ lead?”

“Oh, fuck you.” But it’s true, so Richie’s amused. There’s something nice, about being known. Even if it’s to tease.

There’s a lull of silence. Quite frankly, Carmen’s hoping that Richie’s general disdain of silence will force him to confess your nickname backstory, just to fill the void. It doesn’t. Instead, it just gears him up, in the worst way, able to read the look on Carmen’s face.

“You really wanna fuckin know, huh?” Richie tilts down his head, teasing. Carmen groans. Oh dear god, why him. “Oh, fuck, you fuckin’ like her, don’t’chu, cousin? You fuckin’ dog.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rich—”

“Aye, Chip’s a real catch, I gettit— Works hard, plays nice, cleans up good— Y’have my blessing.”

“Didn’t ask for it.”

“Aye,” Richie snaps his fingers, pointing at Carmen like he could smite him. “Don’t gimme no talk back, she was my boy first, a’right? One bad word from me, n’ your lil’ fantasy—” He gestures an explosion with his hand, making a ‘pop’ sound with his lips.

“Gone, cousin.”

Carmen leans back in his seat, playing with the sharpie in his hand. He’s essentially Kubrick staring down Richie, but the guy is unaffected. “Friday, 4:30, two hours. If Fak fucks up, you’re on deck.”

“Heard.”

“Jeff, can I please get an all day, baby?” Baby is Tina’s new HR approved version of ‘for the love of fucking god’ She’s definitely at her limit, meaning Syd’s definitely at her limit on expo. Richie starts to step out, walking backwards.

“You comin’ cousin?”

Carm scratches his nose, straightening up back to his desk. He wishes he could go back to the kitchen, where he knows he’s good, instead of in here, with some goddamn spreadsheets that he cannot comprehend beyond bad. “Uh, one sec, I just need to finish this fuckin’—” He shakes his hand in the air, “Whatever the fuck this is.”

Richie nods, tapping the doorway on his way out. “Heard… g’luck.”

Carmen does not look at the spreadsheets. No. He thinks. He doesn't think about business.

That wasn’t true, was it? A phone call from Richie wouldn’t be the end of him, end of you, would it? Carmen is on the losing playing field here, practically everyone here has more history with you than he does. If he had a… lapse in behaviour, and it got back to you, would that ruin him? God, even his work family ruins things for him. Or could. Which means they will. Catastrophizing.

Whatever. What the fuck ever. He needs to find your invoice. After some flipping through last month’s file, he finds a sticky note from Sug between loose pages.

‘reminder: ask carmy 4 tony invoice’

He squints. You said Nat took care of it. Maybe it’s an old sticky note, he’ll text her about it, it’ll be a solid forty hours before he’ll get a response, anyways. Mom stuff. He really needs to go visit his niece again, soon. Maybe this weekend. Take Richie’s car. But then he'll probably will be forced to take Richie, too. Maybe he should just ask you, instead. Let Nat thank you for the heating pad she’s been loving, properly. Have dinner, all together, in an actual family home, instead of just each other's apartments. That'd be nice.

Yeah. Yeah. He’ll ask you on Friday, when you come for dinner. He grabs a pad of paper, biting the cap off his sharpie. He’ll make you something off menu, on Friday. You’re coming before the rush, anyways, he’ll have time to play, on Friday.

He’s gonna do right by you, this Friday.

Tomorrow, you’ll be getting dinner with Richie, and it’ll be the worst Friday of your life.

But right now, it’s Thursday night, and you’ve finally finished Carmen’s piece for The Bear. You know you told him if he didn’t like it, he didn’t have to put it up, but admittedly, if he doesn’t like it, you will be crushed.

One big white canvas.

Nine perfect squares, perfectly equidistant from each other at all angles.

Each square a snippet, a photo transfer. The squares themselves are messy, sun damaged, bleach stained, light flared. All twinged blue and yellowish. But so perfectly cut and curated.

Each image, something new. Starting at the top left, it’s The Original Beef. Then, the inside. Then the booths.

Then the second row, the sandwiches, held in hands.

The center photo. You've taken almost all of these photos on a disposable from yesteryear, but this is the one you like the most.

Mikey. The only transfer completely unbleached, unaltered, unruined. He’s holding two cut outs. One, Food & Wine and the other, a small section in the off off off pages of the New York Times.

Both specifically the one’s that mentioned Carmen, winning Best Chef and the James Beard.

Mikey was so proud. So so proud, silently, just with you— Couldn't look soft. Carmen does not know this photo exists. No one does. You hope this piece will act as the catalyst for you to be able to talk about the elephant in the room you’ve yet to open for him.

Right next to Mikey, is a balloon on a pipe— A photo you grabbed from Sydney and printed. You can only imagine the stress you could’ve eased, during their fire safety test. C’est la vie. Fak got to prove himself.

And on the last row, the new, ritzy, booths. The Seven Fishes dish— Also a photo you stole from Sydney. And finally, The Bear’s sign. Taken at night, lit up in all its neon glory.

Though the images are disconnected, starting from Mikey in the center— Clean, the flaring and staining grows more intense at the pictures in the corner. Just bordering on illegible. It all feels interconnected, woven.

It’s Carmen. Or, at least, you think it is. That’s what you were trying to achieve. You took inspiration from the way his brain works, the way he cooks messy but produces orderly, the way he’s grown something out of what was barely more than nothing. The way love and grief is at the center of everything. He’s awfully inspiring.

You’re excited, to show this to him tomorrow, on Friday. Hopefully all goes well, on Friday. You’re coming before the rush, you’ll probably have a little time to talk, on Friday. You won’t be able to get into everything, no, you’ve promised most of your bandwidth to Richie, but you’ll make a good start, on Friday.

You’re gonna do right, by Carmen, on Friday.

Tomorrow.

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

i've still got 2k of beats to cover for the next chapter, and have 7.9k already written out, for it. This is going to be fun. lmao. I'm genuinely very very excited for you to see it, when it comes out. Cannot believe I thought like 4 chapters ago that'd this next chapter would be the one to be released next. I almost briefed over all of these past few chapters to be nothing more than snippets in a chapter, I would never forgive myself if i went through with that plan, fr.

Anyways, no time for the future, this is NOW!! I hope I described Tony's paintin' good. I think it'd be nice. MBMBAM reference in the intro, are you fucking HAUNTED? ARE YOU FUCKING POSESSED? Love griffy, had to. Carmen CANNOT stop having anxiety attacks, someone get him on prozac frfr.

Tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my hat, I'm gonna need some words to chew on while I write, anyways. Hitting a wall choreographing this back half of chapter ten my GOD. Also oh yeah, silly aesthetic thing. I dunno if anyone noticed or cared, but i do a different ombre banner when it's carmen's perspec-- Did it last chapter too, aint that cute?

Also, I must finally give in, I was lazy to do taglists, but have folded, so here u are mfs. If you'd like to be added, you gotta leave me an essay somewhere. It's the RULES! Well, leave an essay and also ask to be added to the taglist that is but IT'S THE RULES!!

@anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @slut4supersoldiers @sinceweremutual @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101

fully added people that never asked to be on here, you're just like, top fans, so i thought it would be nice, but if you WANT TO BE TAKEN OFF LET ME KNOW I'LL DO IT IMMEDIATELY ALSO IF I'M FORGETTING ANYONE WHO ASKED PLEASE DO REMIND ME

Next Part

[galixywolfdragon]

I don’t usually post my writings but I worked hard on this story for a DND project thought I would throw it here if you have any crit would love to hear it

Captains log #368

The sea is calm as usual no storms have been seen as of yet. Rations are running somewhat low course has been altered to stop at an allied port. The crews morale is high the frequent game nights and music has seemed to motivate them to work harder, individual meetings will happen next week. Only one crew member has stood out, my first mate. She is asking about my origin, it’s possible our conversation last Tuesday piqued her interest.

I know you read my logs Reia so the rest of this log is for you. It’s natural for you to be curious about your captans past after all the past often predicts the future so I’ll tell you, but I ask you not to share this entry with the rest of the crew, this story stays between us. Now where to start, I had been serving the gods for as far back as I can remember. I’m sure there was a time before and I remember a little of it mostly a bright light and a lot of pain as if my body was ripped apart. But the thought is fuzzy and I feel ill when I try to remember to far back. I served as a general servant for the god of language but I was quite low in her court so I always got stuck with the dirty work. But it was always fulfilling getting a little pat on the head if I did a good job. On one of my missions I was sent to a human port city to investigate some stolen cargo to assure it had no forbidden knowledge inside. When I was disguised as an ant investigating a crate it was suddenly sealed and loaded onto a ship when I tried to escape I discovered I was stuck, I even turned into my human form to try and pry the lid open but I was too weak. I thought of transforming into something bigger but there would be complications with possibly getting mixed into the box so I decided to sit and wait for help.

I sat in that box for three days since I require neither food nor water I was alright, every waking hour I threw out prayers to my goddess. But the days came and went with no sign nor acknowledgment from her so when I heard a sailor come below deck I screamed at the top of my lungs for help. Luckily he heard my pathetic cries for help and called his crew mates to help me from the box. Unluckily I had been loaded onto a pirate vessel. They arrested me and brought me before the captain she was incredibly intimidating, she held an air of command that silenced all brought before her. Except me I suppose because the moment I stepped foot in her quarters I demanded that I be returned to my goddess immediately. She laughed at me ( I am surprised she didn’t slap me for my rude behavior ) and said “First off, I am the captan of this vessel and I do not take orders from a lowly stowaway like yourself. Second this ship don’t fly, sorry kid your “goddess” will have to retrieve you herself” I tried to say something but she interrupted me “Kid you had better not complain, compared to how we usually treat stowaways your getting the royal package” I had the gall to ask what she meant and she nonchalantly replied “well we usually hang them and send their corpse overboard but I don’t think the gods would be very pleased if I killed off one of their creatures.” “Then what are you gonna do with me?” I asked stupidly “simple you are now a cabin boy I’ll see to it that one of my crew teaches you how to do the work” “A cabin boy?” I stuttered “it’ll be good for you, better then being fed to the fish” before I left she called “oh yeah and you can call me Captain Poinya!”

That’s all I have time to write for now Reia I I’ll write more later, but for right now I need to hit the hay.

Date xxxx time 23:00

- Captain Arc of the Heavens Scale

[gobacktosleepsweet]

The "idontwanttogotoschool" chronicles ep.1 :)

Hey....

Wake up...It's an usual school day.

But...what is a usual school day for me?

well....

I wake up at 6:30 a.m. Dutch time with 0 will to live, but i dont have anything better to do so i just wake up.

Next, I take a shower because that may be the only thing keeping me awake for the rest of the day.I take it fast and don't wash my hair, because i'm going out with fucking -4 degrees Celsius outside so wet hair is a big no. And of course, I don't have the patience to blow dry it.

Then I choose my outfit which is the same outfit as the day before (it's always stupid jeans, that are ripped even if as I said it's -4 degrees Celsius outside, a random hoodie, Jordans and my favorite necklace).I always stop with my pants half-way up to stare at my wall thinking "what the actual hell i'm doing with life?". After being called out by my mom for being slow,i finish getting dressed up and i run to get breakfast.

Breakfast: a meal eaten in the morning as the first meal of the day (Shotout to Cambridge). For me, it is simply milk poured into my 30002938-year-old mug, with 5 biscuits inside.Yep, that's my breakfast.

Then I have literally 20 seconds of peace, 'cause between brushing my teeth, brushing my hair, taking asthma meds, and preparing my backpack cuz I was too lazy to do it the night before, it's already 7:40 a.m., as known as the time I leave for school.

So, let's start with the fact that I am indeed lucky. I live in the rural zone of my city, in a building full of immigrants, as I am, in fact, an immigrant myself. But despite that (NOT SAYING THAT IF YOU LIVE IN A RURAL ZONE YOU ARE UNLUCKY OR WTV) , i'm lucky, because almost everyday i go to school by car with one of my parents, and i have access to everything i ask for.Anyways, that not the point. By the time i was talking to you, i arrived at school.

As soon as i arrive i run to the only person i know that arrives earlier than me: Lara. Lara is literally one of the people I see the most at school because, despite her being of a different friend group, she's my deskmate (if such a thing exists lol), so we talk during ALL THE LESSONS. Anyway, as soon as I reach her, she asks for my phone. Ever since I got an iPhone 15 as a gift, my phone became her property. She knows my password, she uses it daily, but that's alright, she's my friend anyway.

Then, there's Matilde. She's been there way more time than Lara. But I don't go up to her. She's older, and her other friends are older too, so I feel embarrassed. But 2 minutes before getting to class, she comes up to me on her own and just starts telling me all the juicy gossip drama or whatever, and I listen to it, not cause I love gossip, but it is because she's my friend. Anyways that's one of my favorite parts of the day, because Matilde is beautiful.

It's 8 a.m right now, and my BORING school day started. It really doesn't matter which subject it is, everything bores me.Thank god i have Lara by my side, Eva and Mathilda behind, and Giorgia in front. I literally chat or draw during the entire lesson and then...

9.45 a.m, it's recess and I go to my chosen friend group of the day, cuz im unstable as fuck haha. I usually steal other people's snacks, even if I have mine (I don't tell them). Then,it's time for other boring lessons and then another break, so i'll skip to the end of the school day.

It's 2 p.m,and from this point,things are pretty different each day

MONDAY

Recapping,i have flute lessons go home at 3.45, gym at 5,00 and then i have my night routine

TUESDAY

Italian extra lessons, home at 4.00 and i'm done.

OTHER DAYS:

i go to this place after school where i lunch, do my homework, or atleast i'm supposed to cause i literally use my phone.

P.S:it's full of nuns

P.P.S: Matilde goes there too :)

Now, it's 7 p.m, and i'm at home having dinner.Sometimes my family isn't at home for dinner,so i have dinner alone with my sister.After dinner i use my phone or read.At 20.30 i'm setted to sleep,but i start overthinking about very random stuff.Then,i fall asleep.

Usually i wake up at 2 a.m for various reasons:

1.I need water more than everything

2.I need to pee

3.I just woke up and now i can't fall back asleep

After this,the cycle restarts,and this goes up 5 days a week.

Well folks of tumblr, this is my usual school day,hope you disliked it as much as i do,se ya next post

bye

Oh right this shit was wrote with Grammarly on a late night with annoying kids at home

Btw I ain't sponsoring Grammarly, it's all paying and no english

[bookshavefeelings]

Midnight Reign ch. 1 (fic) (part 1)

MATURE/WARNING CONTENT ]

FADE IN:

————- EXT. BRIDGE    

A MALE FIGURE, 32, beer bottle in hand, walks with the other arm around a FEMALE FIGURE, 21, long blonde hair, shoulder, as they walk underneath the bridge in the brisk in the middle of the night. He stops to kiss her, throwing himself forcefully on her. The male figure hurls himself on the ground, pulling her with him. The female figure screams, pushing herself away as he continues. A group is heard as they loudly get near the scene. Unbeknownst to them, they draw near, causing the male figure to look up, searching for the faces that belong to the noise. The female figure is silent, and still, as she stands up, quietly, to look at the male figure, his back toward her. The group of voices retreat in the other direction. The male figure stumbles back, turning around to see the female figure gone. Bewildered, he searches for her. For a moment, he sits puzzled. The silence stills. The breeze of cold winter wind is heard, before the male figure is knocked down to the ground, pitch screams are heard as the darkness sets in.

————— INT. APARTMENT 

The lights are on. The bedroom window reveals the eerie night of light snowfall. Facing the bedroom window of his apartment, DYLAN, 19, with black hair, green eyes, wearing his reading glasses, is writing in his notebook as his physic's book is laid out wide open. The door slams shut, MASON, 21, wears a dark navy coat with flocks of snow on it, while carrying a briefcase with sheets of paper sticking out.

MASON

Dylan! Did you hear?

DYLAN

What?

MASON

About the new neighbors.

The ones that are going to live right next to us.

Gene said they were supposed to move in today.

DYLAN

Oh, no. Uh, how does Gene know that?

He doesn't even live here.

MASON

I don't know. I don't ask where

he gets his information from.

- I heard they are all girls..

I don't know how many, but

Gene clarified that it was more than one.

—-—

Mason removes his coat and shoes, while peeping out the window.

——

DYLAN

(sarcastically)

You must be a genius. I am sure the girls

will be knocking on our doorsteps anytime soon.

MASON

Hey! Are you still studying?

Put that book away! It's Friday night.

You - should be going out.

DYLAN

I can't. I have a physics exam on Tuesday.

Why aren't you out?

MASON

I was out and I had a good time,

thank you for asking.

I would have asked you to join, but

just like all the other times, you would have said..

DYLAN

.. no.

—— The front door of the next room beside them slams shut. Loud footsteps are heard as they storm around the room of the wooden creak floors.

——

MASON

Shush, that must be them.

Thank god, we have thin walls!

DYLAN

Sure, now they are a blessing.

——- Mason gets closer to the wall, his head against the plastered wall. The piercing sound of ripping duct tape can be heard through the wall. Dylan sits up, the creak in his chair fills the silence in the room. The noises in the next room fall short.

—-—

MASON

(Whispers)

Huh- I can't hear anything, anymore.

——

Suddenly, a thud can be heard from next door, alarming Mason and Dylan.

The content and characters are completely fictional and have no correlation to any work fictional or nonfictional. The story's content is for mature audiences as it features gory scenes of violence, death, and trauma. Like for more..

With that also said, I have written the story in a screenwriting format with the intention of visual images and have displayed it that way. I hope you can enjoy it! Check out more of my work on patreon.com/Bookshavefeelings

[queenofsaltymice]

I know this will never be seen. As I don’t have many followers and I’m okay with that. I just need a place to vent and feel my feelings without judgement. I need a place to write. However I will put trigger warnings on my posts just in case people do see them.

TRIGGER WARNINGS

•Infant loss

•Preterm Labor

•Emergency C Section

It’s been 3 months and 10 days, or 14 weeks and 4 days since I gave birth to my identical twin girls. Today June 22nd 2023 is my original 40wk due date. I never made it this far. In a perfect scenario I was supposed to make it to 34-36wks as twins are usually born earlier than the full 40wks. I however went into preterm labor on Sunday March 12. At 25wks and 3 days. I had an emergency C section as soon as I got checked into triage bc my babies were on their way out. I’ve never felt so much panic, anxiety, fear, and sadness. I bawled all the way to the operating room. Everything happened so fast. I was naked and flat on my back on the operating table. I was being draped and scrubbed. And as soon as my boyfriend sat next to me the doctors were pulling our first baby girl out at 0443am. I heard her little cry before she was rushed to the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit) I cried right along with her. I felt a little relief that she was okay. Her sister not so much. She was stuck up inside my rib cage. I could feel the doctors pulling her out. The pressure from having my child ripped out of me was unimaginable. The pressure and intense pain I felt as they were packing me back together was something I never thought I’d have to go through. The nerve block they gave me was wearing off. They had to knock me out. My second baby never cried. She was born at 0448am She was in way worse condition. Had to be resuscitated. Both babies were intubated and put on ventilators. The next 48hrs would be hell for both my partner and I. The first 48hrs of life are crucial for super premies. My second born never made it. She only lived 45hrs. She died on Tuesday March 14 at 0103am. She died in my arms as her dad and I decided to let her go. That’s right we had to pull the plug on our own daughter. Despite everything the doctors did she just was not improving. She was in multiple organ failure, she had a subdural brain bleed, he kidneys were hemorrhaging. She wasn’t peeing and her blood was just becoming deathly acidic. We talked it over for hours my partner and I, the doctors and us and we decided we didn’t want to see our daughter suffer anymore. It was the hardest choice either of us have ever had to make and I hope no one has to go through that pain. And if you’re someone who has gone through the pain of losing a child I empathize and feel deeply for you 💔

I hate myself for not listening to my body sooner. For not going to the hospital the minute I felt what I thought were Braxton Hicks. I hate myself for not carrying them like I should have. My body was their safe space and it couldn’t keep them safe. I question the doctors and if the rough delivery had anything to do with her passing. I go over her autopsy report day in and day out to see if anything changes. Even though I know it never will. Everyone tells me the outcome would have been the same no matter what. And not to blame myself. But I can’t help it. I lost a baby and I blame myself.

My other baby is still in the NICU. She was projected to be home on her due date June 22 2023. But she did not come home. She’s still fighting the battle. She’s still on oxygen support trying to help her lungs. I fear that I will lose this baby too. Even though I know the chances of that are very low. She’s making strides in the right direction. Gaining weight, drinking by bottle, growing. It’s just her lungs. She’s need more oxygen support right now because of how underdeveloped her lungs were when she was born. She’s a fighter for sure. She’s not only fighting for herself but her angel sister as well. They were both supposed to come home together and now they never will.

My heart is so heavy with the pain of the loss of my child. I don’t know how to exist or cope. 😓 No one should ever have to go through this amount of pain.

[sunglasses-snake]

I've had a long week;

Tuesday my coworker wanted to be at the pay station, that's where we sell memberships and get good reviews for good customer service. It's our most "service worker" position and typically only goes to like 3 of us cause we the only ones who smell good enough. When my boss told us to switch, cause he made me go in the tunnel, he threw a hissy fit (complete with stomping and screaming) (this is a 43 year old man btw who openly carries a gun off shift) and stormed off leaving me to work a 10 hour shift by myself (closing too btw). It was supposed to only be 6 hours. Didn't get fired either, only written up AGAIN. This is the 7th time in the 5 months I've been working here and he STILL WORKS HERE.

Thursday I'm working with the same coworker. He spends all shift out at the pay station cause our boss isn't here to force him off and I don't want to work alone again. (It's extremely hard, you have to balance like 30 things at once and it's EXHAUSTING). Ended up working by myself anyway cause when I say all shift I mean the hour and a half he was actually "working" while I was here. He spent 20 minutes in the bathroom when I first got there, spent an HOUR AND A HALF polishing his motorcycle and then immediately after he says to me "I'm taking my break" and POOF for the next 30 minutes. Came back in his car and proceeded to smoke weed for the rest of shift. When time to close came, he took 40 minutes to spray the tunnel, the easiest job btw, and I had to do everything else. I couldnt leave until he is done either. He lives 3 minutes away. I HAVE A 40 MINUTE WALK.

Friday was a normal day until SOMEONE TRIED TO HIT ME WITH THEIR CAR. "Oh they probably didn't see you" said the police. The only reason I'm alive is cause their tires did a slight burnout before they started moving making a loud screech that warned me.

Yesterday I got yelled at by my gm cause my boss threw me under the bus. She said I was the reason sales were so low last month, that I was lazy out at the pay station. I have the most sales but she takes credit for like 70% of mine cause she refuses to let me put them in. I got yelled at and written up. Later that day I get a text from my ex asking to hang out. I said no cause that usually means she's gonna try and take some money from me. Then a (I'm not saying this to shame her, just point out she was *quite* a character) bright pink Mercedes-Benz wouldn't stop and pulled onto a roller that was actively coming out and it ripped her bumper off and fucked up the base plate on our machine. So now I had to file an incident report and fix the base plate. The incident report took 20 minutes which is like really fast, the lady who was dressed in a skintight bright pink body suit, one of those puffy jackets ALSO bright pink, Bright blond hair and had some of the longest eye lashes I had ever seen, was extremely helpful and was really nice. (Probably the nicest person to me this week). She really helped speed along the process. She admitted on the report that she was not paying attention and was on her phone. She also offered to pay for any damages to the machines, I turned her down cause base plates are easy as fuck to fix. Speaking of the base plate, when I eventually got around to putting that back together I had a customer ( who got a full refund btw) talking to me about how it was unacceptable that he had to wait 15 minutes and didn't even get the wash. Base plate got fixed and work resumed as normal. What was my coworkers doing during that whole thing? Hotboxing the first coworkers mention car. Like... actual hotboxing. On the clock. With zero repercussions. That doesn't even end the day btw, when I got home and finished puking cause of stress (common thing I've talked with my doctor about it, she recommended me my current therapist) I tried to log on to my PS5 and my subscription had run out so I had to ask my sister to pay for it and I'll get her back on Wednesday. More puke.

Today is shaping up to be as bad cause I always sit at a bench down the street to rest my feet before my shift and my coworker who was late got angry at me for not coming in ASAP to help open. I closed last night btw. When I walked up, another coworker saw me, smiled, and immediately stopped doing the towels and left them there for me to do. Wanna know what he went to do? Sit in his car. When I went out to the pay station, he didn't even bother getting out of his car, he just honked and signaled for me to be in the tunnel. Again. Later when my boss asks me why nothing has been sold, I have to explain to her it's cause they sit in their car and put in the bare minimum effort. Hearing that you think "minimum wage minimum effort" they make $16 an hour. That's not minimum wage. *I* make minimum wage. I've been here an hour and a half and I'm about make myself puke on purpose just to go home and fuck these guys over.

[astralnexus]

I'm telling yous about it anyways. (I didn't expect this to turn into so much text, RIP) Saturday, we wake up, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary. In fact, we're excited because it snowed! Mum lets the dogs out to the garden to let them do their business when she noticed something was up about the cable that's supposed to like, I guess supply our router with an actual internet connection. It's been stretched/damaged to the point that some part of it looks slashed/cut through, and a wire has been exposed. The snow becomes relevant here because my mum didn't see any footprints in the snow, other than that of at least one cat's. Which makes sense, we have (unfortunately) a good number of roaming outdoor cats on my street. But the cable/wire itself, while outside, was too high for a cat to get caught in while just roaming our garden. However, despite the lack of human footprints in the snow (ignoring my mum's own footprints, of course), the cable/wire looks as if it's been deliberately tampered with just judging by the damage to it.

Interestingly, despite the damage, we still had functioning internet.

So of course, mum starts to fiddle about with the cable, seeing if she can get it back in place, and that's when we lose internet, with no way of getting it back. No putting the wire back in place nor resetting the router fixes it.

Next logical step is to phone our internet providers to see if we can get this fixed. My mum's a disabled woman with chronic pain, and I'm her carer. We both spend the majority of our time at home (when I'm not running the errands I need to for her such as getting our shopping done), and we both rely on the internet in our daily lives (I mean, this shouldn't surprise you guys with reference to me specifically, I'm on here for fuck's sake sdhjgfjhsd).

After a short time of being on hold, someone from our internet provider picks up and mum explains the situation, and the damage done to the cable. So the person on the other end says that they'll be "escalating our case" to ensure that they'll have an engineer sent out within the next 72 hours. (Given that it's now Tuesday as of writing this, you can probably imagine where this is going. But I'll get to that in a moment.) So we're like "okay, chances of them arriving at any point during a fucking weekend is. slim. especially when we live effectively so far out". (Hooray for Scottish countryside </3) which means we've got to have some sort of temporary solution to tide us over, since I'm on my PC a lot and my mum loves watching shows on like, Netflix or whatever on our TV. My aunt immediately rushes out to get us one of those portable 4G wifi things, and while it's slow as hell, it's mostly manageable.

Sure, we can't do nearly as much as we'd like (I just cannot play online games anymore; and both of us suffer trying to get videos/shows to load), but it's a solution.

Sunday arrives. No word from our provider or an engineer. Okay, we can excuse that, Sundays tend to just be One Of Those Days where businesses tend to take things slow & not prioritize anything. Another day of slow temporary internet.

Monday arrives. Still no word from provider or engineer. Annoying, but they did say "up to 72 hours", and there might be more dire cases out and about that require engineers elsewhere, which is understandable!

Which brings us to today, Tuesday. As of writing this it's been... Maybe roughly 78, 79 hours since the phone call? Still no word from our provider or an engineer.

I have... Issues with times being set and them not being upheld (*waves in very early-age autism diagnosis*), so I'm more than a little irked that absolutely nothing has been said or done.

Rightfully so, we're chasing the company up about it tomorrow since today's been an exhausting day.

The irritation on my part is just the fact that we were outright told by an actual human being on the phone that our case was being escalated so that it would be resolved within 72 hours... And that just did not happen. I would like to think that it was just a case of someone down the chain forgetting that we'd even phoned up in the first place, or them not noting down whatsoever that our case was supposed to escalate.

So yeah. Fingers crossed that phoning them up tomorrow prompts them to get an engineer out pronto, or they just so happen to send one out before we can phone them.

holy shit do you guys want to know the fucking time we (my mum and I) have been having, regarding our internet connection, since Saturday?

[sanhaoche]

🤔🤔🤔