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#i’ve come to terms with the fact this game is going to take me a Long Time hahahaha
northern-passage · 1 year
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maybe! i would Like to, but i can’t say for sure if it will happen. my current plan is that i’ll be doing tnp for nanowrimo again, so i’ll be aiming for a december update like last year. but there’s a lot of things that can happen between now and november/december, so i don’t want to promise anything.
i’m still working on tnp, just not as much as i was before. i’ve mentioned it in a few places but i was working on tnp for nearly 3 years straight - as in literally writing almost every single day. i was getting burned out, and on top of that i was doing it publicly here, which added a whole other host of problems that didn’t really help. i was starting to resent it and wasn’t having fun working on it anymore. taking a break and working more privately lately has helped me a lot with that. i’ve also just been writing a lot of other stuff lately, like blood choke & my novel and some other personal work.
i’m easing back into it but i really just needed some time away so i could come back and make sure i give it the care and attention it deserves and stay true to the story and the characters.
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flippedorbit · 10 months
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do you want me to fucking go off on you? do you truly fucking want that mother?
#“oh you and your sister never listen to me and blah blah blah” we fucking do (or at the very least i do)#“you guys never help out” does me doing the litter and taking out the trash and on occasion hand washing the dishes mean#fucking nothing to you? does me sweeping the floor every once in a while because you chose to keep us in an area that is ALL SAND/DIRT ROAD#for whatever stupid ass reason also meaningless? does me doing my damn best to help out mean fucking nothing?#do you want me to kill my self. do you want to lose your eldest child to something YOU could have fucking prevented all because you can’t#stop being a bitch to him all the time? do you really fucking want that mom? because at this rate i am once again on the road to fucking#attempting it. i’m so god damn sick of how you treat me. the only time i can do anything i want is at night. i stay up super late playing#games with my friends because its the only time in the day when you aren’t bitching and whining for me to do something you don’t want to do#for the past several days i’ve been up until five in the damn morning just to do something that makes me happy.#you misgender me. you deadname me. you refuse to accept any aspect of my identity. you don’t treat me like a god damn person.#i have so many different ways i can consider attempting if i truly wanted to. the only thing keeping me alive is my friends. because they a#least show that they fucking care and actively want to do things with me. like group drawing or playing video games.#YOU on the other hand; mother; yell and get mad at me over the stupidest shit and never fucking apologize.#i cannot recall a singular time you’ve apologized for being a complete bitch to me over something so fucking unimportant.#and yet i’m expected to be completely fucking fine and happy all because you provide me with the bare fucking minimum.#”i clothe and feed and provide a place for you to live” THAT IS THE BARE FUCKING MINIMUM. sure you could argue over the fact i’m 18 and#should be out working somewhere. but you give me so few opportunities for going places and even considering getting a job or finally gettin#my driver’s license. plus i would rather fucking die than work any food service or customer service job. because i’d be going somewhere#where i’d mostly get talked down to or yelled and then come home and have the same shit done after working for hours and getting minimal#pay. i’d rather work on my own fucking terms with commissions than go into any job where i have to interact with others in public for any#reason. where i’d be treated just the same as at home. like someone who isn’t a person and doesn’t deserve anyone to be nice to them.#i constantly so desperately wish that maybe one day soon i’d find someone to be with romantically and that i could maybe live with them and#get out of this hell hole that i’m supposed to call home. to go somewhere and have my efforts appreciated. to go somewhere where i’d#actually fucking be loved. i shouldn’t have to wish so god damn hard for a better life all because my mother can’t fucking treat me like a#person with hopes and dreams and thoughts and feelings.#i’m ending this rant here before i get too angry and upset. see you all in maybe an hour.#suicide mention#ask to tag
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theemporium · 3 months
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[14.5k] ethan edwards was prepared for his rookie year in the nhl. he just wasn't prepared for a rat infestation, an unlikely roommate and to fall in love too. (smutty scenes mostly implied)
aka a fic based in the future when ethan finally joins the devils so don’t take anything remotely seriously!
happy birthday @httplando!! enjoy the belated birthday fic🤠gonna go mute you now before you spam my phone with voice notes of you giggling over ethan xoxo
.
SEPTEMBER
Ethan Edwards thought he was prepared for his rookie year.
He had long come to terms with the fact he was in the National Hockey League. It still felt surreal but the reality had long sunk in since the day he was drafted. This was his goal. This was his dream. And he had made it. 
And he knew it would be different from hockey in any other league he had played. He knew it would be faster, harder, more demanding than college hockey. He knew that he would be pushing his body to levels he had never experienced. He knew he was mentally going to go through some of the toughest months of his life as he settled into the big leagues. He knew he was taking the sport he loved to a whole new level and he was prepared for that. 
He was prepared for his rookie year. 
He wasn’t prepared to fall in love with you. 
More than that, he wasn’t prepared to fall in love and not fucking realise it. Especially when you were his fucking roommate. 
Though, when he thought about it, the signs from the universe directing you onto his life path was there long before his first game as a New Jersey Devil. 
“Have you signed for a place yet?” Luke had asked him during the summer, somewhere in the days between wakeboarding and sunbathing and enjoying the freedom of his last stress-free summer before he entered the professional league. 
“I’ve got a few potential options but it’s fine,” Ethan had replied, dozing off on the sunlounger with his eyes closed beneath his sunglasses. “I’ve got time before training camp starts. There’s no rush.” 
And honestly? It was his own stupid ignorance that led to the karma of his current situation. 
“We do apologise, Mr Edwards, but there is nothing we can do. The building manager won’t be able to fix the problems before your move in date and we have no available lots to accommodate you until the problems are solved.”
Ethan tried to let the woman’s soothing voice calm him, but it was hard to find any peace in the words she was saying. “So, I’m homeless?”
“Once again, we do apologise for the inconvenience but the apartment is completely inhabitable.”
Because of fucking course he would find himself scrambling for last minute accommodation in Jersey, days before he was meant to meet his new team and start settling in to his rookie year. The universe couldn’t be too nice to him, not in the year he knew was going to be one of the roughest of his life. 
So, he did what any sane person would do and had a total breakdown on the phone to his mother. And then he called Luke, feeling somewhat spiteful that the boy jinxed his luck earlier that summer. The least he could do is help him out now. 
After Luke had spent the first five minutes laughing because, in his words, “who the fuck has a rat infested apartment in Jersey?”
“Can you help me or not?” Ethan sighed, fingers pressed against his temples in hopes it would ease the ache that had been lingering behind his eyes since he first picked up the phone from the estate agent that morning. 
“I mean, I’m sure Nico or one of the other guys wouldn’t mind taking you in. Jack stayed with—” Luke started but a distressed noise from Ethan cut him short.
“Yeah but Jack was, like, eighteen. I’m meant to be a fucking college graduate,” Ethan grumbled, his cheeks burning. “What impression would that set for the guys on the team?” 
Luke paused. “You’re absolutely reading far too much into this.”
Ethan scoffed. “I think my reaction is justified.”
“Drama queen,” Luke grumbled under his breath before sighing. “I have a friend that was looking for a roommate, actually. You could always stay with them until your place is sorted. The apartment isn’t too far from the rink.”
“Someone on the team?”
“No, someone else.” 
Ethan blinked. “You have friends outside of hockey? Outside of me?”
“Yes, Ethan, I have other friends. You aren’t my only friend.”
“You think you know people and they stab you in the back,” Ethan sighed, far too dramatically (in Luke’s opinion).
“Look, do you want the place or not?” 
“Yeah, yeah,” Ethan quickly spoke up. “That would be perfect. Send me your friend’s number.” 
.
Now, when Luke had told Ethan that he had a friend—a non-hockey friend, at that—that was looking for a roommate, he wasn’t exactly sure what or who was expecting. He didn’t like to make assumptions on people when he knew little to nothing about them. It didn’t feel polite.
But he feels like he’s pretty fucking justified in feeling duped by the youngest Hughes brother when he finds out his new roommate isn’t a guy at all. 
In Ethan’s opinion, that feels like pretty fucking important information to reveal before he shows up at your door with his car down below packed up with bags and boxes down in the carpark. 
Because now, he looks like a fucking idiot when you open the door and he is left standing there, frozen and mouth open like a fish whilst every English word is thrown out of his head. 
“You must be Ethan,” you said eventually, because Ethan still couldn’t bring himself to speak after a painful thirty seconds. “Luke’s friend?”
“Uh yeah,” he cleared his throat, at least having the decency to look somewhat embarrassed by his reaction with blushing cheeks. “Thank you so much, by the way. You’re really doing me a huge favour.”
“Luke said you were desperate.”
Ethan wanted to disagree but he couldn’t. Not really.
“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” he tried to laugh off, though your face remained mostly unimpressed. “So—”
“Your room is the one on the left. Your bathroom is right next door. Three cupboards have been emptied for you in the kitchen and you have the top shelves in the fridge,” you stated, so matter-of-factly that Ethan could only blink in response. “Any questions?”
“No?” 
“Great,” and with that, you wandered further into the apartment, leaving Ethan standing in the doorway dumbfounded. 
OCTOBER
It didn’t take long for Ethan to realise you had some walls around you, and small talk was certainly not the way to get past them.
It was a shift to the roommates he was used to, fresh out of college and having spent the better part of the last four years staying with some of his closest friends and teammates. But it wasn’t totally unwelcome on his part. It was kind of nice to have a space that wasn’t so…hockey.
And it helped that he had his own space. 
September passed in the blink of an eye and soon training camp became the real deal. It felt surreal to think he was really in the NHL now, that he was a professional hockey player, that this was his job and his livelihood now. 
But it also felt fucking great. 
The schedule of an NHL player was no joke and it was certainly not something Luke exaggerated—despite what Ethan assumed during the summer. It was intense and tiring and he didn’t have much time to think about anything else. 
Except maybe his ice cold, standoffish roommate. 
As the regular season began, Ethan had come to a few conclusions. 
.
One: you were not a morning person, especially before having any form of caffeine. That was something he learnt the hard way. 
Early morning practices were nothing new to Ethan. He wasn’t exactly an early bird, but his body had trained itself to familiarise itself with the early mornings after years and years of playing hockey. It was the norm for him, to be awake as the sun started peeking through the horizon and the rest of the world was about to wake up.
He wouldn’t call himself chipper, not really. He was just as energetic as he normally is.
You seemed to disagree. 
“Morning, stranger!” Ethan greeted you as you shuffled into the kitchen, with a boyish grin on his face and a spatula in hand.
You didn’t even glance at him as you shuffled towards the fridge. 
“Not a morning person, got it,” Ethan nodded, biting back his smile as you turned to glare at him. 
“It’s half six in the morning,” you grumbled. “Why are you so loud?” 
“My mum says it’s a part of my charm.” 
You didn’t look very amused in response. 
The following mornings seemed to fit the same routine. Even on the days he didn’t have practice or meetings, Ethan would find himself waking up early and starting his day around the same time you would be up for work. He would be chatty, you would look like you wanted to gauge his eyes out. It was oddly comforting. 
Somewhere in the middle of the second week of this fixed routine, he began to feel confident enough in watching your routine to know exactly what you needed the second you walked out your room. 
“Good morning!” 
You blinked, staring at the steaming mug he was currently offering you. It took you a few seconds to process the sight before you realised you hadn’t spoken.
“What’s this?” You questioned, a questioning look in your eyes. 
“Coffee. Made exactly the way you like it.” Ethan stayed confidently, his grin widening as you took a sip and let out an appreciative hum. 
“Thanks,” was all you said before shuffling around the kitchen to continue with the rest of his routine. 
On the days he was in Jersey, there was always a coffee cup waiting for you every morning. 
.
Two: you were always cold. Always. No matter what the temperature was outside.
In all honesty, Ethan didn’t get it at all. From what he had gathered in his conversations with you and what Luke told him, you had spent a fair chunk of your life in New Jersey so, if he was being honest, he thought you would have been somewhat used to the colder temperatures. 
But walking into the apartment after afternoon practice to find you bundled on the couch like you were in a blizzard told Ethan that assumption was far from the truth.
“Did the heating break?” was the first thing he asked when he saw you, a wave of concern washing over him as he dumped his bags at the door and made his way to the thermostat.
“No,” you murmured from somewhere in the pile of blankets. “S’just cold.”
Ethan paused, reading the thermostat before turning back to you with an amused expression on his face. “It’s kinda warm for Jersey in October today.”
There was a bit of rustling before your head popped up from amongst the blankets, your eyes narrowed in accusation. “Not all of us are professional athletes sweating their asses off for two hours.”
“In an ice rink,” he added with a grin.
Your glare hardened. 
“Do you want a hot water bottle?” 
You paused for a few moments before nodding with a sheepish expression. “Please.”
Ethan huffed out a laugh before he made his way into the kitchen, kettle filled and turned on before he went to hunt down the hot water bottle he was pretty sure his mother had packed away somewhere in his stuff when he moved away from Michigan.
He returned a few minutes later, lightly nudging the pile of blankets until your face popped up again and your eyes softened at the hot water bottle. He couldn’t help but giggle at the way you quickly snatched it from him, murmuring your thanks as it disappeared under the blankets. 
“Any time,” Ethan said, and he meant it.
.
Three: you really didn’t open up to strangers. Or roommates. Or anyone, really. 
He wasn’t exactly sure how Luke Hughes of all people managed to wiggle his way into a friendship with you, but it was an anomaly that had been wracking his brain for the last few weeks.
It was a week or so before Halloween and he was laying on the couch, his brows furrowed together as he tried to scroll through the internet for an idea of what he could wear to the Halloween party one of the boys were hosting. 
“Why do you look constipated?” 
His head snapped up, finding you standing at the end of the couch. You had two smoothies in your hand, the bag you take to your classes still on your shoulder and your shoes still on. He briefly glanced at the time, frowning a little when he realised he had been sitting there for the better part of two hours before he turned back to you.
“Trying to figure out a last minute Halloween costume,” he told you, eyebrows raised in surprise as you handed him one of the smoothies. He smiled as he took it, taking an obnoxiously loud slurp before you settled down on the other side of the couch. “I wanted to do something with Seamus and Luke but Seamus said he had his sorted and Luke said he was doing a joint costume with someone else.” 
“Oh yeah, me,” you answered casually and Ethan tried to hide his shock. 
“You’re coming?”
“Yeah?” You responded, giving him an odd look. “Luke always invites me to these things. He’s also hopeless with costumes.” 
“I didn’t realise you and Luke were so…close,” he said vaguely, his cheeks flushing a little when he realised what his words sounded like. “Not that it’s any of my business—”
“You’re right, it’s not.” You shrugged, taking a long sip from your smoothie before continuing. “But he’s one of my closest friends.” 
Ethan nodded, ignoring the way his stomach twisted at your words. “How did you two meet?” 
“The strip club.”
Ethan blanched. 
“Geez, you’re more gullible than Luke,” you commented, the hint of a smile on your lips. “You ask a lot of questions, Edwards.”
“I’m a nosy person,” he answered honestly with a shrug. “You didn’t answer the question.”
“Because there isn’t much to it.” 
And, in your defence, he knew you didn’t owe him any answers. But he was curious and he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around how close you and Luke were—close enough for you to willingly accept one of Luke’s friends as your roommate for an indefinite amount of time. 
And, at the crux of it, he didn’t understand how Luke was able to get through to you when he couldn’t. 
Ethan was never one to brag but he was a magnet for people. It helped him thrive in hockey, always willing to be that guy on the team that people feel like they could always talk to. It helped him thrive at university, being a social butterfly that could always make a friend in any situation. 
It usually helped. 
So yeah, maybe Ethan was a little stumped why you didn’t seem to want to be his friend, not in the way you were with Luke and some of the other guys on the team. It seemed like being your roommate added a wall he didn’t know how to break down. 
And when the Halloween party happened, it felt like seeing a whole new person when you were chatting and laughing with Luke. 
You looked more at ease as you stood next to him, happily sipping on whatever drink he had gotten for you from the kitchen. You seemed more relaxed, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders as you laughed at whatever joke Curtis had made at Luke’s expense. 
It fuelled a fire for Ethan, one he hadn’t realised had been started before that night. But he didn’t just want to be your roommate anymore, he didn’t like having that wall between you. 
He wanted to be your friend too. 
NOVEMBER
Three months into the NHL told Ethan that it was really no joke.
He was expecting the more intense training and physical playing. He was expecting his body to feel more tired, more hungry, more sore. He was expecting the ruthless journalists and vocal fans and tougher coaches. 
He wasn’t expecting the mental toll of realising that hockey was all he had in his life. 
It was stupid to complain about, considering it was his dream and all, but it was true. Hockey was his whole world right now. He woke up thinking about hockey, he went to the rink thinking about hockey, he made his dinner thinking about hockey, and then he went to sleep thinking about hockey. 
Nine times out of ten, he dreamt about hockey too.
It was different to the hockey he knew growing up, or the hockey he experienced in Michigan. Because at least in Michigan, there were classes or parties or concerts or something to take his mind off hockey. 
But it wasn’t the same in New Jersey.
There were hangouts with Luke and Seamus, or team bonding sessions organised by Nico. There were drinks at the bar after a good game to celebrate, or a particularly bad one they needed cheering up after. There were fun trips around cities he had never properly explored when they were away on roadies. 
But it was all still linked to hockey. 
And he guessed he wasn’t great at hiding his conundrum when Nico skated up beside him near the end of practice, throwing out the offer to grab a coffee and chat after they finished their debrief with the coaching staff. 
.
For what it was worth, Nico didn’t think he sounded stupid when he explained himself. If anything, the captain was quite understanding. 
“I had it when I first moved,” he had confessed as they sat in some urban coffee shop in a part of the city Ethan hadn’t properly explored before. But Nico swore up and down it had the best coffee to offer. “I was young and I was here for hockey so I thought my whole life had to be hockey.”
“What changed?” Ethan asked, hands wrapped around the big mug his latte was in like it would give him something to do, something to focus on rather than the restless itch under his skin.
“The older guys,” Nico said with a knowing smile. “The ones that learnt how to balance life and hockey. The ones with wives and families and friends outside of the team.”
Ethan’s brows furrowed together. “You think I should go get married?” 
“Not right away,” Nico laughed, shaking his head. “But I know how easy it is to get wrapped up in the rookie year nonsense and everything. And you should be enjoying that, for sure. But there’s more to life than hockey, which is quite hard to believe right now. But it’s true, whether it’s a wife—or husband—and family or a hobby or a group of friends you can be a different Ethan with.”
Ethan nodded, a surprisingly serious expression on his face. “Hobbies?” 
“Yeah, something different to hockey,” Nico explained. “Something that doesn’t require you to give up too much time and take your focus away from hockey, but instead be a respite from everything. Like cooking!”
He blinked. “Cooking?” 
“You cook right now because you have to and you follow the diet plan the trainers give you. But you can find enjoyment in cooking because you want to,” Nico assured him, leaning back in his chair with a sure expression. “Give it a try. What’s the worst that can happen?”
.
As it turns out, the worst that could happen is that Ethan is a fucking horrible cook. 
He tried to hold back his coughs, waving the tea towel aimlessly under the beeping fire alarm before he raced to the windows in hopes they would help get rid of the smoke. Or at least get the alarm to stop.
The one meal outside of his diet plan and he almost burned the apartment complex down trying to cook it. 
Go figure.
He had collapsed on the couch an hour later, two pizza boxes lying on the table in front of him as he aimlessly scrolled through his phone. He didn’t lift his head when he heard the front door lock turning but did freeze when he heard you cough a little. 
“Fuck, why does it smell like a shitty barbeque in here?” 
Ethan turned to you, a sheepish expression on his face as he lifted one of the pizza boxes as a peace offering. “Does pizza count as a ‘sorry for almost burning the place down’ gift?” 
You eyed the pizza box and then his face before you took the seat next to him. “Normally I would say no but you look like you had a pretty rough time, so I’ll accept it this time.”
“Geez, thanks,” Ethan snorted. 
“What were you even trying to cook anyways?” You questioned, taking a silence of margarita pizza and taking a large bite. You resisted the urge to let out a moan. “Fuck, I’m glad whatever it was. I couldn’t be bothered cooking today.” 
“Rough shift?” Ethan asked.
“Bitchy manager was on tonight,” you added with a grumble. 
“Fucking Jerry,” Ethan tsked, shaking his head. 
You turned to him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’re avoiding my question.”
“I’m delaying. There’s a difference,” Ethan corrected.
You hummed. “Okay, so why are you delaying?”
Ethan shrugged, turning his attention to the pizza box open on the coffee table in front of him. “S’stupid, no big deal. Promise.” 
You were silent for a few moments before you spoke. “Is this the point where I take the bait and beg for you to tell me why you’re upset?” 
He snorted, but it at least wrangled a smile out of him. “I’m not stressed. Just…overwhelmed.”
“With hockey?” You asked, but there was no malice or teasing in your voice. Just curiosity. 
“I know this is what I wanted but it’s just…so much. I’ve never had hockey be everything in my life, there was always something else. And now I feel like I’m drowning and no matter how much I keep kicking, I’m no closer to the surface. And the older guys seem so put together and I was trying to take their advice but it isn’t really working out and—” Ethan paused, his cheeks flushing a light pink colour when he realised he had begun rambling. “Like I said, it’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid,” you replied and he was almost shocked to see the sincerity on your face. “It’s perfectly normal to feel overwhelmed. It’s a big jump. It would be weirder if you weren’t more stressed.” 
He swallowed. “Really?” 
“Yeah, I mean,” you began, the pizza forgotten on the coffee table as you turned your body on the couch until you were facing him. “Your life will never be normal again. You’ve been shoved into the spotlight and you will continue to be there forever. That’s overwhelming as fuck. And you’re trying to catch up with a bunch of guys who have been here for years, who have had seasons to figure out who they are and who they want to be. It was always going to be an uphill battle.” 
Something in his chest warmed at your understanding. 
“Guess I have a lot to look forward to then, huh?” He tried joking because it felt easier than trying to say the words that were getting stuck in the back of his throat.
“I get it,” you explained with a small nod. “Not at the same level, but I get it. Every day I wake up and I know I’m working towards the thing I want to do for the rest of my life but, fuck, some days are just harder than others. I feel like I’m sacrificing so much of my ‘best years’ doing this and sometimes I just…wonder if it’s worth it.”
“That’s intense,” Ethan murmured with his lips turned downwards.
You gave him a sad smile. “Life can be overwhelming in a lot of ways. It’s just about finding things that help us…destress, I guess.”
“Which is hard to do when you’re a rookie in the NHL who doesn’t know who the fuck he is anymore or a student spending every free moment working her ass off in a shitty job with a shitty manager to pay for college,” Ethan added with a sorrowful smile of his own. 
“Bingo,” you snorted.
“So,” Ethan sighed as he settled back against the couch. “What’s our game plan?” 
You raised your brows. “Game plan?” 
“Yeah, what are we gonna do to destress? We can help each other,” Ethan stated like it was obvious. “Like a ‘you scratch my back, I scratch yours’ situation.” 
You shot him a look. “I’m not scratching your back.” 
Ethan tilted his head, a grin on his lips. “So I’m assuming massages are off the table too?” 
His laugh echoed through the apartment as you threw a pillow at his face. 
If Ethan was being completely honest, he didn’t think finding a destressing hobby would be so…stressful.
He had tried asking a few other guys on the team for inspiration and advice. It hadn’t been as successful as he had hoped. Though, at least he knew a handful of weird facts about the boys he played with, so it wasn’t completely useless. Team bonding and all that jazz. 
But the hobby-searching was starting to reach a point where he thought about it more than hockey. 
He couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong with him. So many of the guys on the team had shared the hobbies they had outside of hockey to help relax. He even spoke to some of the UMich boys that had joined the NHL before him for some advice too. But nothing really clicked, nothing shut his brain off. 
Golfing was too time-consuming to enjoy during the regular season. The mediocre attempt at knitting resulted in a massive knotted ball of yarn being chucked into the bin. He tried reading but got bored after the first few chapters. And it felt a bit pathetic and mind-numbing (the bad kind) when he found himself watching the third episode in a row of some trashy reality TV show that had been playing. 
Nothing was giving him that relief and that step away from the busy, hectic schedule an NHL player brought. 
“You got a new potential hobby for us?” 
Ethan lifted his head to see you closing the front door behind you, bundled in about five layers of clothing you were slowly deshedding before you made your way over to him. He watched as your eyes went to the mess on the coffee table, your lips pressed together to hold back your laugh. 
“What are you doing?” You questioned, tilting your head like it would help you figure out the little project he had been working on since you left for your class a few hours ago.
“It’s meant to be a model plane,” Ethan sighed, a tad too dramatic before he turned to you with a pout on his face. “Johnny said it was easy. He used to do them when he was, like, ten years old. I think he is lying to me.” 
You snorted. “Or maybe he followed the instructions.” 
Ethan frowned. “There’s instructions?” 
You shook your head, trying to hold back your laughs as you settled on the couch beside him. There was a hint of deja vu to that day a few weeks ago—the day Ethan likes to believe the start of your buddying friendship began.
“You’ll find something,” you reassured him, nudging his shoulder with your own. 
“I think some of the guys are just messing with me with some of the hobbies they suggest,” Ethan confessed. “Curtis does not seem like a knitter at all.” 
You laughed. “Yeah no, he was definitely messing with you.” 
“Knew it,” Ethan grumbled before shrugging. “Seamus thinks I’m just being dramatic.” 
“I’m inclined to agree,” you retorted. 
He shot you a look but you didn’t seem too bothered by his glare. 
“He thinks I just need to get laid,” Ethan murmured, his eyes settling back on the lump on the coffee table that was supposed to resemble a plane. 
“So why don’t you?” 
Ethan blinked as he turned back to you. “Why don’t I, what?” 
“Why don’t you just go get laid?” You asked, turning your body slightly so you were properly facing him. “Are you a virgin?”
Ethan startled. “What? No. No, I’m not a virgin.” 
 “Then I can’t imagine it would be too difficult for you to find someone.” 
“Thanks?” Ethan frowned a little before shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, s’just a little much right now. I don’t really wanna go and sleep with anyone. And I’m a little too busy to properly start something with someone, you know? It wouldn’t be fair on them if I was…flaky.” 
“What if we slept together?” 
Ethan let out a choked noise of surprise. 
You gave him an odd look. “What?”
“Us? Sleep together? Like sex?” Ethan blurted out, his voice a little more high pitched than usual. 
“Well, I don’t mean just having a sleepover,” you answered with a shrug.
His brows furrowed together. “Would it not be…weird?” 
“No, why would it be?” You retorted, sounding so sure of yourself. “I’m busy, you’re busy. I guess you’re attractive and if you find me attractive too, I don’t see what the issue is. It’s convenient for us both.” 
His eyes narrowed. “You guess I’m attractive?” 
“This is not the time for your ego,” you huffed, though he could see your lips twitching upwards.
“No no, this is the perfect time for my ego,” Ethan started, his back straightening as he sat up in his seat.
“Are you in or not?”
His eyes dropped down to your lips for a few moments before returning to your eyes. “Y-Yeah, I’m in.” 
DECEMBER
As it would turn out, it was far from weird. It was actually pretty fucking great. 
The awkward tension Ethan expected to rise from the first time you two slept together didn’t actually happen. The next day, everything was back to normal and, if it weren’t for the hickeys dotted over his torso, he would have assumed he dreamt the whole thing up. 
It was surprisingly refreshing. The buddying friendship between you and Ethan continued to grow as the days passed, just like he wanted, there was just also the added bonus that sometimes the two of you fucked to let off some steam.
And as much as it pained him to say, Seamus was right. He just needed to get laid. He just needed to go back to something he knew he would always be good at, that didn’t take up too much space in his brain and felt as natural as breathing to him. 
He just needed to feel someone else’s body pressed up against him, whispered moans of his name doing more to help shut up that voice in the back of his head far better than the crowds of fans screaming and chanting his name. 
He was really missing out for all these with the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing.
“Ethan.” 
“Hm?”
“We can’t.”
“I think we can,” he murmured against your neck, his smile pressed against your skin as he placed a line of chaste kisses just below your jaw. 
Your eyes fluttered close as his large hand splayed against your stomach, fingers brushing over your heated skin as he settled on the bed behind you. “You’re gonna miss your bus,” you managed to mutter out, a little breathless as you felt him rolling his hips against your ass.
“They won’t leave without me,” he assured you as he tugged you further back into him. Your panties had been kicked off somewhere under the sheets, not that either of you cared enough to give it a second thought. It just made it easier for Ethan to slip his hand between your legs, to listen to the choked noise of surprise you let out when his finger pressed on your clit. 
“That’s not how it works,” you murmured, letting out a whine when he stilled his hand between your legs, focusing on marking the spot at the base of your neck that made your arch against him. “You’re gonna miss the bus and the team will be annoyed and you’re gonna—”
“Shhhh,” Ethan mumbled against your skin. “Too much talking.” 
“Ethan.”
He let out a groan, his head dropping to your shoulder where he pressed a soft kiss there before lifting his head to shoot you a look. 
“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmured with a snort. “It’s a seven day roadie. You’ll survive.” 
“Maybe I’m really stressed about it,” he shot back. “Maybe a quickie before I leave would help me destress.” 
You shook your head in amusement. “You’d be a lot less stressed if you weren’t thirty minutes late already.” 
Ethan’s head snapped over to the clock on your bedside table. “Shit.”
“Told you so!” You called out as he scrambled his way towards the bathroom for the quickest shower of his life. 
“Shut up!” 
.
“That’s new.”
“What’s new?” Ethan questioned, leaning down to lace up his skates with the efficiency of a man who had spent the better part of his life in ice skates. He didn’t notice the shit-eating grin on Luke’s face until he sat back up and found the boy staring at him. “What?”
“Well, either the rats from your old apartment have found your new place and decided to take revenge or there’s a different reason for the marks on your back,” Luke retorted with a knowing glint in his eyes. 
“Marks are an understatement,” Seamus snorted, sitting on the stall on the other side of Ethan. He didn’t know what he did to deserve being stuck between the two of them. “Your back is mauled, dude. Who did you sleep with, a werewolf?” 
“No,” Ethan scoffed, his cheeks burning red. “Don’t be jealous you can’t get the same reaction out of a girl.” 
“So there’s a girl?” Luke chimed in, like the little nosey shit he was. 
“Maybe,” Ethan answered vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s just a casual thing. Nothing serious.” 
“Glad you finally took my advice,” Seamus grinned. 
Ethan rolled his eyes. 
“What’s her name?” Luke asked. 
To be fair, you and Ethan never discussed the logistics of your situation beyond the actual sex part. He enjoyed the little bubble the two of you shared in your apartment. It was like the two of you forgot there were other people, that the signs would be there for people to pick up on. And he wasn’t exactly sure if it was something you would want people to know, even Luke. 
He tried to bargain with himself that it wasn’t serious so there was no need for Luke or the other boys to know. You two were just scratching an itch for each other, that’s it. You were still friends at the end of the day, he didn’t want to ruin that because other people thought there was something more serious.
Ethan shrugged. “Uh, you don’t know her.”
Luke cocked an eyebrow. “So surely it doesn’t matter if we know her name or not.” 
“It’s not like she’s my girlfriend or anything,” Ethan retorted, squirming a little under Luke’s gaze. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready? Coach wants us out in five minutes.” 
“Subtlety is not your forte, Edwards,” Luke snorted in response. 
The roadie ends up being a complete shit show.
Three games and they lost every single one of them. Three games and the loss just got worse with each game, with the final game being an embarrassing 5-1 loss. And all the boys were upset and annoyed about the results, but Ethan felt like he was going to lose his mind. 
His suit felt uncomfortable and itchy against his body, like some foreign layer he desperately wanted to shed. His skin felt taut and stretched across his bones, the urge to claw at his skin so overwhelming that he forced himself to focus on picking the skin around his nails instead because it was less likely to get him odd looks from the other boys. 
He had ignored Luke and Seamus’ attempts at pep-talks in the locker room, both boys seeming determined to try and reassure him the loss was not his fault—like it would stop the fumbled plays playing on a loop in his head. He watched Nico climb onto the bus, eyeing the empty seat next to him but he wasn’t in the mood to be babysat by his captain. He put his bag on the chair next to him and put his headphones on, pretending he couldn’t feel everyone’s eyes on him.
He wasn’t sure what time it was when they finally arrived back in New Jersey, but he didn’t care to know. He didn’t give anyone a chance to pull him back for a chat. He grabbed his bags and bolted to his car, wanting nothing more than to get out of his suit and just mope in his bed until practice in a few days. 
Ethan wasn’t expecting for you to still be awake.
He jumped when he spotted you on the couch, the TV still on but on mute as it played some random sitcom he couldn’t quite remember the name of. His eyes wandered over your figure, huddled up in the corner of the couch with a blanket covering your legs and a Devils branded hoodie he didn’t quite know whether it was one of your own or one of his. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. 
“You’re back earlier than I expected,” you spoke up, breaking the weird, tense silence that seemed to be suffocating the apartment since he walked in. 
“We left just after the game,” he replied, his voice a little raspy considering it was the first time he had spoken since the end of the game. “Boys wanted to get home.” 
You nodded. “M’glad you’re back. The place is pretty quiet without you.” 
It was lighthearted. It was an opening for him to plaster on a smile and pretend he was okay. It was a chance for him to escape the same awkward conversations he avoided from his teammates. 
But he was tired—the bone deep kind—and he didn’t have it in himself to keep pretending. Not in front of you. 
“I’m not sure I’m feeling very talkative right now,” he admitted, swallowing back the acidic taste in his mouth, the one that had been lingering since he stepped on the bus with all his disappointed teammates. 
“We don’t have to talk about it,” you reassured him as you patted the spot on the couch beside you. “We can just sit in absolute silence if you want.” 
“I’m not sure I want that either,” he confessed as his body slumped against the couch, melting into the fabric as he tried to ignore the constant buzzing voices in his head. “Just wanna forget the last week, to be honest.”
“That’s fair,” you hummed in agreement. “The refs were biassed dicks anyways. It wasn’t fair.” 
He turned his head to look at you, his surprise clearly expressed on his face. “You watched?” 
“I did,” you gave him a soft smile. “It wasn’t a pretty sight. I’m surprised the neighbours didn’t make a noise complaint against me when they put Luke in the box.” 
And despite himself, he couldn’t help but snort. “They had it out for him and Jack.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Dicks.” 
His lips twitched upwards. “Dicks indeed.” 
Ethan let his head fall back against the back of the couch, let the exhaustion settle in as his eyes fluttered shut and, for the first time in the last week, let himself have some semblance of relaxation even if his brain was still on overdrive.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” you started and his body instantly tensed up at your words. And maybe you would feel his body lock up, considering his thigh was pressed against yours and the couch wasn’t all that big either. “But I am here if you want to talk. Have someone who’s not on the team to listen to you.” 
He swallowed the lump in the back of his throat. “Just feel like I let them down.” 
“You didn’t,” your voice soft but sincere. “And I bet the boys would agree.” 
“I just…” he let out a sigh, keeping his eyes closed because it somehow made the next few sentences easier to say out loud. “I know no one likes losing. I would be a pretty bad professional athlete if I liked losing. But, I don’t know, it just…sucks more now.” 
“Because the stakes are higher?”
“Because there’s more people seeing my mistakes,” he murmured, his words short and sharp. “This is all unreal. Being able to live out my dream and play in the NHL. But every time I make a mistake, I just feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like I’m waiting for someone to tell me it’s all a joke or I have been moved down or I get dropped and that’s the end of my career.” 
There was a short pause. 
“I’m scared it’s all gonna be for nothing.” 
He wasn’t sure what response he expected. Truthfully, he had no intentions of ever telling you any of this. Or anyone for that matter. He had no intentions of ever saying the words out loud, letting them fester and swirl around in the back of his mind when he was left with his thoughts alone for too long. 
And yet, he had just blurted them out to you. 
Maybe he was more tired than he realised. 
“Why did you keep playing hockey?” 
Ethan frowned a little, his eyes blinking back open as he turned to look at you again. “What?” 
“Why did you keep playing hockey?” You asked again, something swirling in your eyes but he couldn’t quite work out what. “It’s one thing to be a fan. You’re Canadian so I guess you kinda have to be. And I assume your parents put you into lessons. But why did you keep up with it? Why did you keep playing?” 
“Because I love the sport,” he answered without any hesitation.
“Exactly, you love the sport,” you repeated with a soft smile on your lips. “It’s why you stayed. It’s why you play the next game even if you lost the last one. It’s why it’s your dream, why you kept working towards the NHL. And even after the shit show of the roadie, it’s why you will go out and play the next game.” 
Ethan stayed silent but he didn’t move his eyes away from yours. 
“It’s normal to have doubts. It’s normal to second guess yourself and assume the worst and let yourself spiral,” you continued. “It’s your rookie year. It isn’t easy for anyone. It wasn’t easy for Luke, for Seamus, for any of the boys. But you love the sport and the sport loved you back. Even on the bad days.” 
“That was poetic,” he murmured, his voice a little raspy and thick with emotion. 
“I was great at English in school,” you retorted with a grin. “You’re allowed to feel scared. And you’re allowed to be upset after you lose. But you’re a part of the team, nobody is putting the loss on your shoulders and you shouldn’t either. It’s your weight to bear together.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “Did Nico message you?” 
You snorted, and something about the sound made his chest tighten. In a good way, though. 
“No, but considering how fast you got here, I would be wary that he will probably show up tomorrow morning to take you for a coffee check up,” you murmured. “Or he will corner you in the locker room.” 
Ethan nodded. “Thank you. For listening and stuff.” 
You flashed him a smile as you nudged his shoulder with your own. “That’s what friends are for.”
It was almost ironic that Ethan had spent the last few months working towards the title of your friend, only to feel almost disappointed when you said it. 
Nico had been the one to organise the New Years Party.
All the boys from the team were there. There were other Devils employees from the marketing, media and training teams. There were friends and friends-of-friends. There were people he had never met before. 
But it was a party and the buzz of the new year was humming through them all, and somewhere amongst it all, someone had suggested a game of truth or dare.
Ethan thinks it was Curtis, who was just drunk and nosy and a bit bored.
“Right, Baby Hughes, you gotta pick!”
Luke let out a groan, slumping into the person next to him—a chuckling John Marino who seemed amused by the glint in Curtis’ eyes—before nodding. “I feel targeted.”
Curtis grinned. “Never.”
“You’ve asked me every single time,” Luke grumbled under his breath, cheeks tinted pink and warm. “Surely this is against the rules. Right, Cap?”
Nico raised his hands in surrender. “Do not drag me into this!” 
Luke’s eyes narrowed. “So much for looking out for your boys.”
“Pick someone else before he starts getting whiny,” Jack called out, grinning widely as he dodged Luke’s elbow to his side. “I don’t wanna hear him bitching on the way back home.” 
“Fine, fine,” Curtis snorted, eyes scanning over the busy room before his eyes paused on Ethan. “Alright, Edwards, rookie’s turn. Truth or dare.” 
Ethan straightened a little, something determined in his eyes. “Truth,” he answered with a grin. “I’ve been warned of your dares.” 
“Smart,” Jesper coughed under his breath. 
“Truth, he says,” Curtis mused as he sat back in his seat, contemplative and cunning before he spoke again. 
“Play nice,” Nico teased.
“Cap’s orders,” Curtis hummed before he spoke. “Alright then, rookie, fess up. Which teammate is your least favourite? Name and shame.” 
Ethan blinked. “This feels like a trap.” 
“Oh, it certainly is,” Ondrej snorted.
“Don’t take him seriously,” Luke spoke up, leaning his head back to catch Ethan’s gaze. “He did the same to me and Simon. And Seamus last year. It’s his thing.” 
Ethan raised his brows. “Is there a right answer?” 
“Hey, no cheating!” Curtis called out. 
“Maybe my answer is you,” Ethan called back teasingly. 
“Oh, pretty boy has some fire,” the older man laughed, happily and drunkenly but it seemed enough to satisfy him before Nico was rounding everyone around for the midnight countdown.
The funny thing was that Ethan always knew that hockey was a team sport and every team he had ever played on—from the peewee team he played on as a kid to the boys he played with in UMich—every single one of them felt like a family, a place where he belonged and a team he loved both on and off ice. 
The Devils had been another one of those teams—his newest family. It had been terrifying, a lingering thought in the back of his head since he had been drafted. Every team he played for before were teams he would move on from, stepping stones in his dreams. But the NHL was at the top and he didn’t want to fuck that up. He didn’t want to feel left out from his new family. 
The Devils family had welcomed him with open arms. 
He truly couldn’t complain. He felt a connection with these boys on and off the ice, he felt like the newest member in this patchwork family that was really cared for. Even now, as the seconds ticked down to midnight, there was warmth and camaraderie in the air as they welcomed the new year. 
And yet, it was the most devastating loneliness he had ever felt in his life.
Because the clock struck twelve and the cheers echoed through the house and yet, his eyes were searching in the crowd of people. Searching for the one person he wanted by his side. Searching for the first person he has ever had the urge to kiss into the new year. 
Because Ethan Edwards spent breaking in the new year wishing he was beside you. 
JANUARY
New Years opened his eyes in ways that he hadn’t really considered before.
Unfortunately, eye opening nights are a bit difficult to focus on when you’re a professional athlete in the NHL hitting January in your rookie year. Because they were only half way through the regular season in one of the most physically and mentally intense years of his life, and he was a bit too fucking tired to have emotional epiphanies.
Which was fine if it weren’t for the fact he was currently in the middle of drills and his brain was definitely not focused on hockey. 
“Edwards!” 
Ethan blinked, his body moving before his brain could properly catch up. He had never been more grateful for the military-routine of drills he had been doing for as long as he had been skating. 
His muscles were screaming by the time the boys were starting to head back into the locker room, laughing and shoving each other and discussing strategies for the game against the Sabres the following day. But he lingered behind, stick twisting in his hand as he tapped a few pucks closer to the net. 
He had tried not to stare at the person lingering on the ice behind him, watching him, observing him.
He managed five shots before the person spoke up. 
“You should lower your right hand a little,” Jack called out, lingering at the blue line. “It will help with the shot.” 
His next shot hit the back corner perfectly. 
Ethan straightened his back, nodding a little before glancing over his shoulder. “Thanks.” 
“Anytime,” Jack responded, taking it as his cue to skate closer towards him. “You good? You should be getting some rest before the game tomorrow.” 
“Yeah, just…wanted some extra practice on my shots,” Ethan said, shrugging his shoulders. “It needs some work.” 
Jack nodded. “You’re having a good year.”
“Could be better,” Ethan retorted before he could stop himself. It was meant to be lighthearted, playful even. Instead, it came out a little self-deprecating and he winced at himself.
“It gets better,” Jack assured him, his expression a little softer. “The rookie year is always the worst, the media attention and expectations and everything. But it gets better when you find yourself, find your footing.” 
“I know,” he murmured because he wasn’t sure what else to say. Nobody really talked about Jack’s rookie year. Not in much detail, not beyond a few comments here and there he had heard over the years in the lakehouse. 
He was more than grateful that his own rookie year wasn’t anything like Jack’s. 
“Enjoy it,” Jack continued, a kind expression on his face. It wasn’t hard to work out why Jack was given the ‘A’ on his jersey. “I know it’s easier said than done, but don’t let the critics get to you too much. They just wanna put pressure on you, make you squirm.” 
And oh. 
Because now Ethan was standing there, staring back at Jack like a hopeless idiot, realising he and the rest of the boys probably assumed his mood had been related to hockey. To the articles written about him. To the most likely and very reasonable explanation. 
Not the fact Ethan was pretty sure he liked his friends-with-benefits roommate in a not very friends-with-benefits way. 
His cheeks burned at the realisation. 
“Uh, yeah,” he nodded helplessly, hoping his smile didn’t look as strained as it felt. “No, you’re right. I…I’ll try to really enjoy it. Not get in my own head too much.” 
“Good,” Jack smiled back at him, all sweet and genuine and making him feel like a bit of a dick. “I’m here if you ever need a chat, you know? And I’m better at giving advice than Luke.” 
Ethan snorted. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”
The issue was that despite his eye-opening realisation, Ethan Edwards quickly realised he was a bit of a coward when it came to expressing his feelings. 
Or, for that matter, confronting them.
It was odd for Ethan, if he was being completely honest with himself. Because he was usually good with these kinds of things. He knew when it was a ‘no strings attached’ situation, when to remove himself from any feelings that would compliment the matter. And he knew when it was serious, when the feelings were reciprocated, when there was something more than physical between him and the other person. 
But that awareness was thrown out the window when it came to you. 
It was like he had a little voice in his head, desperately trying to yell out how he felt about you until Ethan reached his breaking point and did something he couldn’t take back. 
So, he did what any reasonable person did and locked that little voice away, pushed it to the back of his mind where it couldn’t bother him. And then he continued living his life like he couldn’t hear the rattling box in the background of every waking moment. 
It was easy with hockey. Despite his little blip at the start of the month, he managed to prevent the annoying voice affecting his game on the ice. He stayed focused and concentrated and attentive. He managed to complete his drills and find the passes and shoot some goals so none of his teammates would catch on to his lacking grasp on his feelings. 
But at home? With you? He clearly wasn’t coping as well as he thought he was. 
“Are you okay?” 
Ethan paused, body frozen as his brain wracked through a million different thoughts before he turned to look where you were sitting on the couch. 
“Uh yeah,” he managed to blurt out, a slightly strained laugh following. “Why?” 
“You’ve just seemed off the last few weeks,” you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. “Like, tense and stuff.” 
“S’just hockey stuff,” Ethan murmured with a stiff smile, the lie tasting bitter and acidic on his tongue. “The boys have just been talking about how playoffs are sneaking up on us and I just…guess I’ve been a little in my own head about it.” 
You nodded in understanding. “You need days to chill out, you know? Take your mind off hockey.” 
Ethan raised his brows. “You got any suggestions, sweetheart?” 
“Actually,” you retorted with a knowing smile. “I do. I know exactly what you need to get out of your head.” 
“You know, when you crawled onto my lap, I was expecting a very different outcome,” Ethan murmured, struggling not to move his lips too much as he focused on the concentrating expression on your face. 
“Need to get your head out of the gutter, Edwards,” you teased, biting back your smile as you continued to sweep the brush across his face, careful to avoid his eyebrows while you were at it. “Facemasks are soothing and relaxing. Plus, your skin probably needs it after all the travelling you do.” 
“Excuse you,” his nose scrunched. “I have a skincare routine.” 
You chuckled. “Yeah, Luke told me that you ripped into Seamus after he used your fancy moisturiser.” 
“It’s expensive,” he murmured in defence before the rest of your words caught up on him. “You talk about me to Luke?” 
“Mostly to bitch,” you said with a lighthearted, teasing smile.
Yet, something in his chest tightened at the idea regardless.
“As long as you’re talking about me,” he shot back, something victorious washing over him at the way you laughed. 
You leaned back a little, still sat on his lap with his hands on your waist to keep you balanced. You snorted at the mask covering his face before grinning. “Now, we have to keep these on for twenty minutes. And try not to move your face too much.” 
Ethan ignored your words, pouting in response. “So if I asked you to make out—”
“I would tell you to fat chance,” you finished with a grin. “But I’ll admit the pink headband is really working for you.” 
Ethan wiggled his eyebrows, once against ignoring the pointed look you shot him. “Enough for a kiss?” 
“Enough for an episode of Pretty Little Liars,” you shot back at him, your smile widening at the sound of his groan but it still didn’t stop him from tugging you close before you could sit on the other side of the couch. “Or at least finish the one we started last night before—”
“I rocked your world?” 
“Started drooling on my shoulder,” you corrected.
“That was after I made you come twice,” Ethan piped up, lightly pinching your side until you squirmed further onto his lap. “They cancel each other out.” 
“Whatever you say, princess,” you snorted, eyes gleaming as you pressed play on the remote before he could come up with a witty comeback. 
And, somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a distant voice screaming at him to say something. Telling him this was the perfect opportunity to say something to you. To just admit how he was feeling and end the pathetic pining he had been experiencing for the last few weeks. 
But the mere idea of losing this—losing you—kept his mouth shut as he finally turned his attention to the tv and pretended like his stomach didn’t twist at his own cowardice. 
FEBRUARY
Before he knew it, they were hitting February and all the buzz in the hockey world was around All Stars.
Ethan hadn’t been too concerned about it or the discussions leading up to the reveal on which team members would be heading out for the event. His mind had been preoccupied on the season, on playoffs approaching, on you. In all honesty, All Stars hadn’t even crossed his mind until the team was being rounded up into the locker room for the announcement. 
It was not too much of a surprise that Luke had been selected for the Devils (most people expected it to be one of the Hughes brothers). 
However, it was a shock to hear his own name follow. 
“Looks like the fans want to see more of the pretty boy,” Curtis called out, joking and teasing and, yet, it still made his cheeks burn as the boys all slapped him on the back. 
“Baby’s first All Stars,” Timo cooed jokingly, reaching out to pinch his cheek but Ethan was quick to slap his hand away. 
“It’s Luke’s first too,” he defended weakly, a smile on his lips as he spoke.
“At least he is losing one of his virginities,” Seamus coughed under his breath, letting out a high-pitched yelp when the younger Hughes reached to smack him across the back of his head. 
“I hope you get a horrible sunburn in Mexico,” Luke retorted with a deadpan expression. 
Seamus snorted. “Don’t get bitchy because your ticket is non-refundable.” 
Luke reached out to slap him again but he had already run off towards the showers, laughing and shoving some of the other boys into Luke’s path to help with his escape. 
Ethan shook his head in amusement. 
“Enjoy it,” another voice spoke up and he turned to find Nico standing beside his stall, a kind and genuine smile on his face as he patted his shoulder. “It’s fun. Promise.” 
“More fun than chilling on a beach somewhere?” Ethan retorted with a knowing smile.
“It’s up there,” Nico grinned. 
“But if Michael Buble offers you anything, say no,” Jack spoke up from the other side of the locker room. “Trust me.” 
.
“How does it feel to be with all the big boys?” 
“You saying I’m not a big boy?” 
“You know exactly what I meant, perv.” 
It was true. Ethan knew exactly what you meant. But he could almost imagine the way you rolled your eyes when you spoke, your nose scrunched up and your eyebrows furrowed and it sent a pang of something aching through him. 
It was almost too pathetic to comprehend. 
All Stars was insane. Truly, absolutely, positively insane. It was one thing to watch it from the comfort of his own couch. It was a whole other thing to be a part of it. And he knew he shouldn’t be starstruck, not really. He had spent the better part of the last few months playing against some of these guys. 
But being in a not-as-competitive setting with the likes of Sidney Crosby and Nathan MacKinnon was a surreal experience he hadn’t fully wrapped his head around since he arrived.
And yet, here he was, all smiley and giddy and excited over the fact you had called him. The fact that you missed him enough, that you were thinking about him enough to call him whilst he was away. 
“I stand by my question,” Ethan replied, shuffling further back into the plush pillows of his hotel bed as he held his phone to his ear. “Do you not think I’m a big boy?”
“I’m not going to talk up your dick size for the sake of your ego, Edwards.” 
Ethan snorted despite himself. “Worth a shot. Could have made it really hot.” 
“I refuse to have phone sex with you when Luke is probably in the room.” 
“He’s not here,” Ethan said quickly, pausing for a moment before he continued. “Well, he’s gone out to grab us some snacks from the store around the corner but—”
“Exactly.” His stomach dipped a little as your laugh echoed through the phone. “Now, tell me everything.” 
For a moment he wondered if it would be worth trying to facetime you to see your face or if that was pushing it too far. 
“What do you want to know?” He retorted, his eyes closing shut as he tried to imagine the expression on your face as you thought. 
“I don’t know! The important stuff! Like if Sidney Crosby is as hot in real life?” 
Ethan blinked. “That’s your big question? If he’s as hot as he is on screen?” 
Your reply came with no hesitation. “Yes.”
“Wow, so we can’t talk about my dick, which has been inside of you by the way, but we can talk about whether or not Sidney Crosby is hot.” There was a pause before he sighed. “Yeah, he is. Maybe even hotter.” 
“I fucking knew it.”
“So you don’t even miss me? Not even a little bit?” Ethan questioned, trying to sound playful and lighthearted, hoping the small slivers of insecurity weren’t being translated through the phone.
“Don’t start pouting on me, Edwards. Of course I miss you.” Your voice was softer, more sincere. Or at least he was deluding himself into thinking as much. “Found a show for us to watch when you’re back. It looked good but I didn’t want to start it alone.” 
It was embarrassing how big his smile was. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you hummed before gasping. “Oh god, I almost forgot to tell you. You won’t believe what happened at work the other night.” 
Ethan huffed. “Don’t tell me it was—” 
“Yup! And you’ll never guess what she did—” 
It hit Ethan in the chest when he was lying on the foreign bed in a non-descriptive hotel room, phone pressed against his ear as you rambled away. It hit him just how much he enjoyed this, how much he enjoyed you. That it was beyond the physical attraction, that it was much deeper than a silly little crush. 
It hit him how much he wanted this forever.  
But he knew better to do it on the phone. He knew it had to be said face-to-face. He knew he needed you in front of him when he uttered the words. He knew he needed to be looking in your eyes when he blurted his feelings out. 
So, he promised himself. 
He promised himself he would do it when he headed back to New Jersey. He promised himself he would do it when he saw you. He promised himself he was just going to deal with it head on and not run away like he had been doing for the last month or two. 
He promised he was not going to be a coward anymore. 
.
It was embarrassing how quickly he threw his own promise out of the window. 
Ethan was fucking exhausted by the time their plane laned back in New Jersey. It was barely even eight in the evening and he was ready to slump face first onto his bed and not get up for a few days—even if he knew they had practice the following afternoon. 
But it was the principle of it all. 
It was the mere exhaustion of it all. 
And you took one look at him before you opened your arms, inviting him to join you on the couch. Ethan couldn’t even bring himself to feel too bad about the groan you let out as he slumped himself on top of you.
“Make sure they had good music at my funeral,” he grumbled, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck and his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke.
You hummed, your hands moving on instinct to run your fingers through his hair. “How do you feel about Barbie Girl?”
“Love it,” he murmured, a soft groan leaving his lips as your nails scratched along his scalp. “Missed you.” 
“I missed you too, Edwards,” you whispered, soft and almost breathless. He wondered for a moment if he was leaning too heavily on your chest and winding you. “I never knew you talked in your sleep.” 
Ethan froze. 
“Luke sent me some interesting videos,” you continued and he could almost hear the smile in your voice. “You should really watch who you have sleepovers with.” 
Ethan clenched his eyes shut, trying to nuzzle himself further into your neck. “M’gonna kill him.” 
“It was just one video,” you assured him, lightly tugging his hair until he lifted his head to look at you. “Cute that you were so jealous over me liking Sidney that you started to sleep talking about it.” 
His cheeks heated up. “I wasn’t jealous.” 
You beamed back at him. “Uh huh, sure.” 
Ethan narrowed his eyes at you. “This is emotional blackmail.”
“Aw, don’t let me stop you from doing it again,” you teased, unable to hide your amusement as his cheeks burned redder. “Would it make you feel better if I said I was jealous you got to hang around him all week?” 
Ethan paused before he spoke. “Yes.” 
You nodded. “Then, I was deeply jealous and envious that you got to hang around Sidney Crosby, the hottest guy in the league—”
“Oh my god,” Ethan groaned as he braced his hands on either side of you, prepared to push himself off you and the couch and sulk in his room. But before he could get far, you were winding your arms and legs around him and pulling him back down. “Nuh uh, let me go. You can go cuddle with Sidney since you think he’s so hot.”
“You’re such a drama queen,” you mused, choosing to be nice and not comment on the way he completely nuzzled himself back into your arms, eyes falling shut and relaxation taking over his body for the first time in a week. 
“You’re a bully,” he retorted, words muffled from the way his cheek was pressed against your shoulder. 
“You like it,” you retorted, keeping the banter going but it made Ethan’s head spin. 
Because he did. He did like it. He liked you. He liked coming back home to you and he liked lying on the couch with you. He liked kissing you and he liked the noises you made for him when he touched you. 
He liked you more than he cared to admit. 
He liked you too much to lose you. 
He liked what the two of you had. He liked it too much to risk losing it all over unreciprocated feelings. Feelings could change—his feelings could change. There was no need to ruin a good thing. 
He had hockey to focus on. He had the team to focus on. He had playoffs to focus on.
Now was not the time to change everything, superstitions or not. 
MARCH
March Madness was no joke. 
It was pure fucking chaos and no previous league or championship he had ever played for could rival just how hectic the whole thing was. The Devils were having a good season. A great fucking season if they were being honest. And they were so, so, so fucking close to clinching that playoff spot. 
But fuck if the other teams weren’t making it real fucking difficult for them. 
Ethan knew that things were going to get rougher, tougher, harder when the playoff desperation started to settle in, when the end of the regular season was on the horizon and teams were starting to get dirty to extend their season. 
He just underestimated how desperate they were willing to get. 
It was easy to see why Nico Hishcier was so beloved by the team, by the fans, by the boys. To see why he was chosen as captain because he was nothing but supportive and determined and encouraging. He wasn’t letting them get too comfortable, he was keeping the boys working towards playing their best. 
But he was also the damn proudest of them all. 
It almost made the hits against the boards worth it. 
Almost being the operative word seeing as he felt like his whole body was bruised as they came off a game against the Rangers. 
“Fuck,” Ethan hissed as he all but waddled into the locker room, helmet in hand and skateguards on. “I think I’m bruised in places I didn’t know you could be bruised.” 
Seamus snorted. “Fucking tell me about it.” 
“The hit during the second period looked rough,” Luke spoke up from the stall beside him. “You sure you’re good?” 
“Medical checked me over during the intermission,” Ethan assured him with a faint smile. “Just gonna be sore for the next few days.” 
Luke’s eyes gleamed. “No strenuous activities then?” 
Ethan rolled his eyes. 
“Oh please,” Seamus mused, giving Luke a nudge with his elbow. “He’s a pillow princess.” 
“Fuck off both of you,” Ethan snorted, already starting to peel his jersey off.
 It wasn’t until he was almost dressed where he finally grabbed his phone out of his bag, turning it back on to see a flurry of notifications to take over his screen. His brows furrowed together in surprise as he skimmed over them.
“Is that a certain roommate?” Luke asked, peeking over his shoulder like the nosy shit he was but Ethan had already chucked his phone back in his bag. 
“Nah, it’s just Patricia,” Ethan shrugged.
Luke blinked. “Who the fuck is Patricia?” 
Ethan shot him an odd look. “Patricia, the woman from the estate agency you recommended to me.” 
Luke gave him a pensive look. “Why is she blowing up your phone?” 
Ethan shrugged again. “Your guess is as good as mine.” 
As it would turn out, Patricia was contacting him because the apartment he originally signed on for at the start of the year seemed to have sorted the rat infestation problem. 
She was cheery in her voicemail she left for him, like it was the best possible news Ethan could have ever received. And maybe it would have been a few months ago, back in September. Even a good few weeks into October, Ethan would have been over the fucking moon to hear his old apartment was available again. 
Yet, as he listened to the voicemail now, he couldn’t help but let a sense of dread wash over him. 
It was stupid in a way because he knew from the start his situation wasn’t permanent. He knew it was always a short-term solution to a short-term problem. He knew the arrangement between you both wouldn’t last forever—both as roommates and friends with benefits. 
There was always a timer on it, but Ethan let himself get lost in the familiarity of it all that the upcoming ending hit him like an unexpected slap in the face.
If he was a sensible and good guy, he would have called Patricia back. He would have told her he was just as happy to hear the update on the previously rat infested apartment. He would have told her he was happy to move in as soon as he can, to have his own place in New Jersey to call his home and his home alone. He would have told her to send over all the paperwork as soon as she can. 
But Ethan wasn’t sensible nor was he all that good because he never called her back. 
Instead, he chose to pretend as though he hadn’t seen the calls or the voicemails or the messages. He told himself he was focusing on clinching a playoff spot. He told himself he was just prioritising the important stuff and, for as long as he had a roof over his head, the other apartment wasn’t a priority. 
Ethan chose not to acknowledge the fact that ignoring and running away from any possible problem was becoming a bit of an odd habit for him over the last few months. 
As it would turn out, people failed to warn Ethan that March Madness seemed to extend into a player’s personal life. 
He couldn’t quite work out the exact moment everything changed but he noticed the switch two weeks into March. And he was fucking baffled. And almost embarrassed that it took him so long to catch on to your sudden cold behaviour.
If you were giving him the cold shoulder, Ethan would have assumed he had done something to piss you off. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done it before, the two of you had your fair share of petty roommate disagreements over the months where one of you would give the other silent treatment. But it never lasted more than an hour or so before you sat down and talked it out. 
Ethan would have preferred if he was just given the silent treatment from you.
Instead, he got…whatever the hell you were doing now. 
For a few days, Ethan considered that he was just being dramatic. That maybe it was something at work or in one of your classes. That eventually you’d come to him with whatever was bothering you and he would listen and this weird tension between the two of you would disappear. 
He lost hope in that theory after a week.
You were talking to him, almost as normal, but there was a tinge to it. A shift. Almost like a step back. It felt like the early months as roommates, when your answers were shorter more often than not, when you treated each other as acquaintances with a mutual friend. 
It felt fucking wrong. 
And then there was the physical aspect. 
It wasn’t like the two of you were on each other at every possible moment together. It wasn’t even about the sex. It was the way you pulled away from him like his touch burned you, like it was odd for him to casually nudge your hip with his own as he walked past you in the kitchen. It was the way you seemed to avoid sitting too close to him on the couch. 
It was the way it felt like the two of you were reverting back to the awkward, polite strangers you were back in September. 
He hated it but he didn’t know how to get it back when you seemed so adamant to keep him at arm’s length. 
It was disorienting as fuck. 
It was wrong. 
It was everything he feared for. 
It was almost-definitely-possibly worse than you rejecting him. 
And Ethan felt like he was fucking spiralling with the realisation that he may have lost you and he wasn’t exactly sure how. 
.
And just when Ethan craved normalcy in his life, Luke started acting weird too. 
The youngest Hughes brother shut down any attempts to hang out outside of practice or training. He didn’t seem as talkative or chatty with Ethan the way he usually was, leaving most of their conversations to surround hockey or strategies or upcoming games.
Fuck, even Seamus was weirded out by Luke’s sudden change in behaviour. 
It didn’t take long for the other boys in the team to notice the growing tension between the two boys. Jack kept shooting his brother weird looks. Nico seemed concerned. Even Curtis looked a bit awkward and unsure at what to say. Him, Luke and Seamus had been such a trio since Ethan joined the Devils at the start of the season. 
Now it seemed like Luke tolerated him at best. 
But Ethan knew Luke. He knew the way the boy would get when he was upset. He knew the way the boy tended to shut down a bit, knew that he needed the space to be moody and brood a little (the outcome of being the youngest child) before he was ready to forgive and forget and move on. 
However, Luke Hughes seemed more than happy to carry out whatever grudge he was holding—even if it was affecting their game on the ice. 
“What the fuck was that?” 
Luke didn’t even bother turning to look at him, reaching to pull his practice jersey over his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“For fuck’s sake, Luke,” Ethan growled, angry and frustrated and done with whatever bitchy mood he was still in. “I was open. You saw that I was open and you fucking ignored me. What if we were in a game? What if that cost us a goal?” 
“It’s just a practice,” Luke shot back, deadpan and unamused. “Calm down.” 
“Calm down? Calm down?!” Ethan laughed, bitter and irritated. “This isn’t a fucking joke, Luke. I don’t know what your problem with me is but it’s fucking ridiculous if you’re willing to sacrifice the team for it.” 
Seamus took a step towards them. “Okay, maybe we just need—”
“No,” Ethan snapped, a buzz of adrenaline rushing through him. “No, if he has a problem with me then I want him to fucking say it instead of keeping it some secret like—some coward!” 
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” Luke snapped back at him. “You know all about secrets, Edwards.” 
His brows furrowed together. “Stop fucking talking in riddles, Hughes.” 
“Oh Jesus,” Seamus grumbled under his breath. 
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Luke hissed. 
“No, I don’t!” Ethan gritted out. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re on about!”
“And I don’t know who the fuck you are anymore!” Luke bit back, enough hurt and anger in his voice that it left Ethan—and the rest of the locker room—silent. “I thought you were one of my closest friends. I thought you were a good guy. Clearly you’ve changed.”
Ethan frowned. “What?”
“Okay, everyone out!” Nico clapped his hands together, snapping Luke and Ethan out of their little moment as the captain began shepherding the rest of the team out. 
“Aw, come on, it was just getting good!” Curtis whined but sighed as he followed the rest of the boys out of the locker room, all in various degrees of undress as they left Ethan and Luke alone. 
Ethan watched them all go before he turned back to Luke, a look of hurt and pure confusion on his face. 
“I helped you out,” Luke rasped, swallowing harshly. His voice was softer, a little raw too. Like the fight had left him and all that was left was disappointment. “You needed a place to stay and I convinced her to let you stay, vouched that you were a good guy, that you weren’t a fucking douche, and you had to go and fucking play her like that.” 
Ethan blinked. “What the fuck are you on about?” 
“Ethan,” Luke muttered, his name full of frustration. “I know about the two of you. I’ve known for a while, I’m not fucking stupid.” 
His heart sped up a little, despite himself. “What does our…agreement have to do with you?” 
Luke shot him a look of disbelief. “Because she’s my friend! Because you’ve strung her along for months and now you don’t even have the decency to tell her you’re leaving!” 
Ethan blinked again. “I—what?” 
“You’re moving back to your own place and you—why do you look so confused?” 
“Because I am confused!” Ethan squeaked out. 
Luke slowly blinked. “So…you’re not taking Patricia up on her offer and moving out?”
“No!” Ethan replied, still looking confused. “Why would you think I am?” 
“Because she keeps calling and emailing you!” Luke shot back.
“And I haven’t answered a single one!” Ethan retorted. 
“Huh,” Luke murmured, his mind whirling with a million different thoughts. “Well, her emails suggest otherwise.” 
Ethan tilted his head. “What do you mean?” 
“I—” Luke sighed, looking serious once again. “I need you to be honest with me.” 
Ethan shifted in his spot. “What?”
“Are you serious about her?” Luke questioned. 
Ethan frowned. “Who? Patricia?” 
“I—no,” Luke sighed deeply. “Unless you’ve been sleeping with Patricia this whole time—”
“What? No, no!” Ethan spluttered out. “I have—wait, does she think I’m moving out?” 
Luke looked a bit sheepish. “I think you need to go have that conversation with her.” 
“Fuck,” Ethan breathed out, something quite like nausea twisting in his stomach. “And she….I’m not….I would never play her like that. It’s literally the opposite!” 
Luke raised his brow. “The opposite?” 
“I—fuck, I need to go,” Ethan muttered to himself under his breath, not even acknowledging the other boy as he began to yank his gear off. 
“Woah, Ethan, you need to—”
“I need to fix this,” Ethan interrupted. “She can’t—I need to tell her.” 
The last thing Luke—or any of the boys—saw was Ethan rushing out of the locker room, looking frazzled and flustered and panicked. 
.
Ethan wished he could say he was calm and collected when he finally made it to your shared apartment but that would be a fucking lie. 
He was a mess when he arrived. Despite driving back, he was still breathless and panting as he forgoed the elevator, choosing to take the stairs two-at-a-time until he reached your floor. His hair was a mess, his cheeks were flushed, his keys were the only thing in his possession as he raced towards the door. He wasn’t even sure where his phone was. Nor did he care. 
His only goal was to get to you.
It was embarrassing how badly his hands were shaking as he tried to shove the key into the lock, taking more attempts than he cared to admit before he managed to open the door. He didn’t even care about your neighbours as he began calling out your name, praying to every god he could think of that you were home.
He could have collapsed from relief when you wandered out of your room, a mixed look of concern and confusion on your face when you spotted him standing in the living room.
“Are you okay?” 
Ethan tried to find the words to answer you. He tried to wrack his brain for a response to your question, a coherent sentence to calm the clear uneasiness in your voice. And yet, all he could do was stare at you and think one single thought that was leaving his lips before he could even stop himself.
“I’m in love with you!” 
You blinked in response. 
“Like, so painfully in love with you that I didn’t think it was possible to feel this way about someone. But it is. And I do. And I can’t keep it to myself anymore because I think I am genuinely going insane,” Ethan continued. 
Your lips parted a little in surprise, but still no words left your mouth.
“And I should probably stop talking and embarrassing myself further because you’re not saying anything and I’m usually a lot better at these kinds of things,” Ethan blurted out. “But you’ve been pulling away the last few weeks and I can’t take it anymore because it’s killing me. It’s killing me that I have to keep pretending I’m fine with everything when I’m not.” 
His body was moving before he could stop himself. He was taking steps forward, closing the small distance between you two because Ethan couldn’t stop the pull you had on him—on his body, his mind, his whole fucking world. 
“I’m in love with you. Like in a ‘I wanna come home to you every night and kiss you because we are dating’ kind of way, not a ‘we are roommates who made up this weird agreement’ way.” Ethan breathed out, his voice just above a whisper but you heard him loud and clear. “And I don’t expect you to say you feel the same way but I can’t keep it anymore and—”
He was cut off by you throwing yourself at him, arms winding around his neck and lips on his. He didn’t even care about the rest of his sentence, sinking into the kiss like a starved man eating for the first time. The relief of feeling your body pressed against his was almost as addicting as the adrenaline pumping through his veins when you let out a blissful sigh. 
“M’not moving out,” he managed to mutter out between kisses as he wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you tight against him. “Whatever you think—” 
You pulled away a few inches, just enough to see his face. “Your laptop was open,” you murmured, something sheepish and guilty written across your face. “And the email came through from your estate agent about signing a new lease and I got in my own head about it. I thought you were going to leave and I wanted to protect myself from falling further and—”
“Falling further?” He repeated, a hopeful smile beginning to take over his face.
“Yeah,” you whispered, your smile mirroring his. “Turns out sleeping with your roommate is a real catalyst for falling in love with him.” 
“Lucky me,” Ethan murmured before leaning back in to kiss you. “And I’m not leaving until you want me to leave.” 
“We’ve really gone through this relationship thing in a weird order, huh?” You mused, laughing a little when Ethan kept leaning in to kiss you.
“Yeah but I think it’s worked out pretty well for us,” he murmured, his nose playfully nudging yours. 
Ethan Edwards thought he was prepared for his rookie year. 
He wasn’t. Not in the slightest. Nobody ever was, not really. He wasn’t fully prepared to fall in love either.
But with you in his arms and the Devils only points away from clinching a playoff spot, he thought his rookie year was going far better than anything he could have prepared for. 
.
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yourlittlettoy · 4 months
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FIRST “NEST” HIGHLIGHTS ✨
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Just for the sake of using this blog like an actual blogging space 💁🏻‍♀️✨ let me tell you about how my first NEST went!!
For those of you that aren’t familiar, NEST is one of the biggest fetish gatherings in North America for us t-word enthusiasts! I’ve known about it since forever ago, and this may it was my first time actually attending. It was: everything I’d hoped it would be (˘▽˘ʃƪ)・゚✧♡ here are some highlights!
This gathering was probably one of the biggest I’ve ever been to in terms of the amount of friends I saw alone! There were pals from our Tumblr community, friends from Japan, everyone from my gathering friend groups, and lots of friends from my local community as well. It was really heaven to just be with all of my favourite people all at once and in one place (˘▽˘ʃƪ)・゚✧♡
The events were REALLY COOL! Definitely a gathering with one of the most comprehensive schedules I’ve ever experienced! I participated in as much as I could, but notably the squid games, auctions, and t-word-theatre (which is a big public t-word show where someone get’s got in front of an audience in a very theatrical way!) was super cool! Having said that…
I GOT KIDNAPPED!! Well, “napped” 😅 don’t worry, no real felonies here hahaha. When I applied to be ‘napped like back in the beginning of the year, I didn’t hear anything back at all about the process of how that was going. Knowing not every applicant ends up getting chosen, I didn’t let myself keep my hopes up. Long story short.. after I excitedly went to the t-word theatre event all pumped to watch someone get got… to my great surprise, that person was gonna be me lmao ‼️😱 I was kinda *taken* from my seat and tied to a chair in front of everyone, then a game show-dating show scenario played out with 3 bachelors behind a curtain answering questions (really funny and witty answers, might I add) that the show host threw their way 😆. Of course, then the host eventually asks the question “our bachelorette loves to laugh, how would you make her laugh?” … and basically I watched as all of them came through the curtain to come get me 😱 one by one…. And then !!! OF COURSE ALL THREE HAD TO COME AT ONCE 😱💀😵!!! And I couldn’t take it right so I was yelling “help meeee” hahaha ya know cause pooOOooOoOor meeeee 🤪😇. And the host was like… “sure I’ll help them” AND JOINED IN ON THE LERS SIDE 💀💀💀! ANYWAYYYY despite how extremely evil that was 😜🥺, it was 10/10 one of the coolest experiences of my life, I got an “I got napped” certificate AND it made me really happy when people approached me later saying they liked my scene (˘▽˘ʃƪ)・゚✧♡ THANK U NEST FOR CHOOSING MEEEE! 🩷
This was the first gathering I been to with a partner and he was beyond lovely and supportive and we didn’t struggle with feeling any kind of restrictions due to each other .. and this means a lot because I intend on going to gatherings for as long as I can and the fact that that won’t interfere with my love life is truly a dream come true for me :)
Oh, and I experienced getting t-worded by one of my most sadistic gal pals in a fully nylon body suit and 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 I think my soul left my body that day lmaoooo RIP ME
Those are the highlights!!! This post really is a summary but happy to share more details if there are any questions 😁 thank you for reading and for following along this lil journey with me <3 I adore and appreciate all of you here with me right now! We’ve come a long way 🥰 maybe see some of you next year!!! 👀😙 that would be amazing!
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maddogofshimano · 1 year
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The Boss’s Date Coaching
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oh baby it's another Goromi event! this one's a board game with Nishida as our protagonist
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the board music was Receive You the Madtype
I thought it was kind of funny that they were squeezing another Goromi event in when her character story and past event already covered............. basically every single moment available in YK1! but that's okay.
because this one doesn't take place in YK1
as a brief aside on pronouns, I’m sticking with she/her for any references to Goromi. the term for boss Nishida uses for her, 親父, is explicitly masculine in the same way that patriarch in english is, but I’m not factoring that in for this translation
I will put a content warning that there's a brief attempted sexual assault in this, it's only a few lines and is resolved very quickly but it is there
summary: It is 2006. Goromi is waiting for Kiryu to arrive at SHINE to help out a hostess so she can (once again) surprise him. Nishida has a date coming up, and in her boredom Goromi decides she'll teach him the secrets of a woman's heart.
[2006] [After Kiryu Kazuma was released from prison….] (Tl note: the first time I completely blew past the fact that this said 2006 and not 2005. But I guess 2006 is technically after Kiryu was released from prison, so.) Goromi: ……Kiryu-chan, you're takin' so long~.
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Goromi: Nishida! Are ya absolutely sure ya actually emailed him?
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Nishida: Y-Yes! I'm positive I did...
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Goromi: Then why ain't he come here? Nishida: Kiryu-san is… a really busy person, so… he must have gotten himself caught up in something…. (tl note: Nishida refers to Kiryu as Kiryu no ojiki, which is literally your uncle who is younger than your dad, and in yakuza terms usually means a patriarch less senior than your own. I'm going with -san for simplicity of showing he's being deferential)
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Goromi: ……..Well, a burly guy like Kiryu-chan probably gets tons of invites. Goromi: But I got all this time to kill~. …Nishida, ain't there just nothin' interesting? Nishida: I-I guess so… Goromi: Kaaa~… When there's a girl this cute with nothin' to do, ya oughta be helpin' her kill some time! <phone buzzes> Nishida: …! (tl note: this is literally the first time Nishida has looked not extremely worried)
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Goromi: Oh! Is it from Kiryu-chan!?
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Nishida: N… No, it wasn't. Goromi: What the hell. Who's it from? Nishida: Umm… well… Goromi: …You're stallin'. Give it here! Nishida: Ah… Goromi: …"I had a lot of fun on our date on Saturday, Rina"… This is… Nishida, did'ya get yourself a girlfriend? (Tl note: it's not……….. it's not YK1 SHINE hostess and known lesbian Rina, right? it's a different Rina……. right???) Nishida: No, it's not that serious…! We just met when I went to a group-dating event the other day… Nishida: Then we emailed a little… and she ended up asking me out on a date… Goromi: Ohh~… Seems like she's into ya. What kinda girl is she? And what do ya think of her? Nishida: Umm… here's a picture from the group dating. Nishida: She's a really sweet, attentive, and kind, and we get along… I think it'd be really great if we ended up dating…
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Goromi: ……… Nishida: …Boss? Is something wrong? Is there something strange about the photo? Goromi: …Just shocked. A beautiful lady like her is all but wasted on ya. Nishida: …Y-Yeah, I think so too. I'm not even sure why she ended up contacting me at all… Goromi: ….I got it! This situation calls for me to step in and help ya, yeah? (Tl note: Goromi is using "washi" as her personal pronoun here, which is what Majima usually uses when he's speaking as a boss, or "ore". Goromi usually goes with "watashi" but does use "ore" when Kiryu catches her off-guard) Nishida: Eh? Goromi: To make sure yer date goes well, I'm gonna teach ya all about a woman's heart! Nishida: Eh… Goromi: And I've got tooons of free time right now… aren't ya lucky~! Goromi: Hang tight! This is gonna be "the heart of a woman: lesson 1"! <Goromi leaves, presumably to make slides or get props or something> Nishida: I-……… I have a bad feeling about this… Nishida: I think my boss is just… doing something absurd to me to kill time while waiting for Kiryu-san to show up… (Tl note: lol this time it was actually -san. just gotta be EXTRA formal talking about Kiryu around Goromi, I guess) Nishida: No… it's bad to assume. It's possible that my boss might honestly be trying to help me… Nishida: …She said this was lesson one on a woman's heart… How many lessons is she planning? <scene transition to later> Goromi: …I've come~! And I've brought pleeenty of booze~! (Tl note: Goromi says お・ま・た~! which I presume is a shortening of お待たせしました as in "sorry to have kept you waiting" but omata on its own is uh. it's vulva. it's vulva and that sort of crotch area. hence my translation of trying to get some kind of weird double entendre there) <sound of a cork popping> Nishida: Wh-Why are you filling that tower of glasses with alcohol… Goromi: I thought I'd show ya how to drink. I brought a buncha different kinds. Goromi: Sake, shochu, wine, whiskey, cocktails, plum brandy, beer, take your pick! Go on, drink whatever ya want! Nishida: A-Alright… Nishida: (…Boss… did say she was going to teach me about the hearts of women… so does that mean this is a test?) Nishida: (In that case… a cocktail is probably bad… that's something a girl would pick, I think…) (tl note: NISHIDA NO DON'T LOSE TO THE TOXIC MASCULINITY) Nishida: …Boss. I'd like a whiskey and cola to drink, please. Goromi: Ohh… Whiskey, huh…? Nishida: Well then… cheers. Nishida: (The way I drink will probably also be judged… the manly way to do it is in one shot…)
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<horrible gulping sounds and the glass hitting the table> Nishida: …Thank you! Goromi: Oooh, yer a big drinker, huh? Goromi: Although… did ya notice anythin' strange? Nishida: Eh? Something strange…? Now that you mention it, the taste was a little bit peculiar…  <stomach noise> Nishida: My… my stomach's… Wh-What did you put in that, boss!? Goromi: Dumbass! You were so complacent ya didn't even realize that thing was fulla laxatives! Nishida: L-Laxatives!? Why did you.. guhh… Goromi: And now ya know lesson one of how women's hearts work: "I don't want to be with a man who would easily be poisoned to death!"  Goromi: If you're a man, ya gotta be cautious of anythin' that gets served to ya, cause ya could get poisoned!
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Nishida: Th-That's… unreasonable… Nishida: (…I think my worries were correct… She's just using me for amusement to kill some time…) <stomach gurgling> Nishida: Ughhh… S-Sorry… gotta… bathroom… Goromi: …No can do. If ya wanna go to the bathroom, ya gotta beat up that guy. Nishida: …Eh? <footsteps> Beefy Majima Family Member: …Sorry, Nishida no aniki. Boss says I gotta.
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Nishida: Y-You… Goromi: Now, after poisonin' ya, this ruffian's here to snatch your pretty girlfriend! Goromi: Nishda! Endure that stomach ache 'n win! Show Goromi-chan somethin' good! Nishida: Ughuugh… Y-Yes… boss!!!! Beefy Majima Family Member: Well… I hope you'll forgive me, Nishida no aniki. (Tl note: I did shorten that name to "beefy member" and then reconsidered)
<fight happens> <sounds of a toilet flushing> Nishida: Haa… Haa… Just in the nick of time… Goromi: Heh, ya gotta a lotta willpower to avoid havin' an accident like that, huh? Here, drink this so ya don't get dehydrated. Nishida: Ah, some water? Thank you, Boss. <drinking sounds> Nishida: …What the… it's a little bitter…? Boss, what's up with this water-- <Nishida hits the ground> Goromi: Dumbass! I just told ya, don't make it so easy to slip ya sleepin' pills like that! Goromi: …When ya wake up, I'm gonna train ya until ya can identify every kind of poison by taste. Buckle up, buttercup. Nishida: Uugh… uughhh… that's……. impossibleee…. <END PART 1>
[While waiting on Kiryu to finally arrive, Goromi learns of an upcoming date and uses her free time to instruct Nishida on the matters of a woman's heart.] [After drinking poisoned booze, Nishida has learned lesson number one, "girls don't want guys who are easily poisoned".]
Nishida: (Boss… She told me to wait outside for the next lesson on a woman's heart…)
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Nishida: (This lesson comes after poisoning… What sort of terrifying part of the female psyche is she going to teach…) Goromi: I've come~ 🎶 (Tl note: yeah. yeah it's the same one. yeah) Nishida: Ah, boss. What's the next lesson going to… be? <Goromi appears with a whole army of goons> Goromi: A woman's heart: lesson 2! "Obviously I like strong men 🎶"! (Tl note: this is probably the same line she says to Kiryu about her type of man, but I'm too lazy to double check OR look up what she exactly said in english)
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Goromi: A man's not a real man at all if he ain't tough! Now you're gonna tussle with these guys! Goromi: Smash up these ten opponents, and show a gal what she likes to see in a man! Nishida: No… this is… just the boss's pastime… Nishida: She said this was about a woman's heart… but this is more like training in a battle manga… Goromi: Let's get it rollin'! Get it done nice 'n quick! Goromi: Oi, everyone! No goin' easy just cause it's 10 on 1, I want everyone goin' all out against Nishida! Majima Family Members: Roarrrrrrrr!!!! Nishida: ….Crap… Guess there's no avoiding it…! Nishida: Haa… Haa… (tl note: THIS WASN'T THE OBLIGATORY FIGHT? I THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO BE THE FIGHT IS THERE ANOTHER??)
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<a goon slides in> Nishida: !?
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<Nishida gets smacked> Nishida: Guh…! <A new goon slides in> Majima Family Member A: Haa! Nishida: Crap! <Nishida steps away> Nishida: Haa… Haa… Nishida: (When there's this many opponents… while you're busy with one guy, another will circle around behind you…) Nishida: (They're not that strong if I can take them on one by one, but I can't fight them properly when they're in my blind spots…) Nishida: (What the hell do I do…) Nishida: …..! That's it….! Goromi: …Seems like ya figured it out. Goromi: Everyone! What're ya standin' around for! Go beat the shit outta Nishida! Majima Family Member A: Y-Yes! <scene change> Nishida: Yes… right here…
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Majima Member A: Oi! It's too cramped to go together! Majima Member B: Shit… this is… too narrow! Nishida: (Yes… This narrow alleyway forces them to come down it one at a time…) Nishida: (Since I don't have to keep watching my back, this negates their numbers advantage in close quarters.) Nishida: …What's wrong, come at me! Otherwise it'll be the boss that's hitting you! Nishida: …Time to go…! Nishida no aniki! Please don't hold this against me!
<actual fight time where you do indeed take on 10 goons>
Majima Member D: Gahh…
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Nishida: Haa… Haa… Somehow… I won… Goromi: Ya did it, Nishida! Now ya don't gotta be worried when ya get jumped by a buncha thugs!
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Nishida: Um… I think I will still be worried… Goromi: Well, if they really wanted ya dead they woulda done ya in the first time you stumbled… Goromi: Eh, we'll call it good enough this time. Ya passed lesson 2 of a woman's heart, "Obviously I like strong men 🎶" ! Nishida: Th-Thank you very much… Goromi: Now, this will be the final thing I can teach you about a woman's heart… A woman's heart: lesson 3… Are ya ready? Nishida: Y…..Yes. Nishida: (Next is the final one, huh…) Nishida: (I figured that if she's just doing this to kill time, she'd get tired of these sorts of antics… but this is faster than I thought.) Nishida: (But I can't let my guard down. Lessons 1 and 2 were seriously absurd… What on earth will lesson 3 be?) <music changes to the more emotional soft track> Goromi: A question for ya. Right now… what do ya think Goromi-chan wants? (Tl note: I misread it as "what do you think of Goromi-chan" at first and was like, so scared to continue. I was shook by the possibility of Goromi emotional vulnerability momence)
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Nishida: …Eh? Goromi: What's wrong? Answer already. I wanna know whatcha think I'm after. Nishida: Eh… Well… Nishida: (What do I say… The number one thing my boss would probably want is to fight with Kiryu-san.) Nishida: (But, that would be way too easy for this quiz… what the hell… what is it…) Goromi: …Figured out your answer? Nishida: ……….. Nishida: ……Sorry, I don't know. Nishida: I thought getting to fight Kiryu-san would be it, but… I'm not confident enough in that to commit to it. Goromi: …Ya got it. "I dunno" is the right answer. Nishida: Eh? Goromi: The final lesson on women's hearts: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her".
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Goromi: Every woman has her own circumstances. Goromi: A woman who loves sweets can still have days where she wants something spicy, and there are women who will claim to hate what they actually like. (Tl note: .............................................................................hey when this is in direct response to Goromi's number one desire being a fight with Kiryu. there's. hmm.) Goromi: So, don't look at just one aspect of a woman and think ya know everything about her, okay? Goromi: Women are deeply complex, living beings, despite what men think. ...Got it? Nishida: Y-Yes...! I will take your words to heart! Goromi: ...Alright, good. I taught ya about the female psyche, so make good use of it on your date. Nishida: Y... Yes! Goromi: Well then, time to head back to the club. I got a feelin' that Kiryu-chan might be there soon.
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<she leaves> Nishida: While the other two were obviously farces... it feels like that last one was surprisingly genuine. Nishida: Guess it makes sense, after she got tired of doing the absurd. But, that doesn't seem quite right... hmmm... Nishida: Still, something to make use of on my date... Nishida: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her" is good to keep in mind... Nishida: But "I don't want to be with a man who would easily be poisoned to death!" and "Obviously I like strong men 🎶" are-- Nishida: Maybe not as helpful... <END PART 2>
[I'm skipping the recap lol but today's the day of the date] Rina: Hehe, I thought the same thing during the group date, but talking to you is really easy, Nishida-san...
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Rina: I was really nervous to ask you out, but I'm glad I gathered up the courage 🎶 Nishida: Oh, nah... I was worried we wouldn't be that good of a fit, too. Nishida: ........ Rina: ...? What's going on? You keep looking around the perimeter. Do you have a friend here? Nishida: Ah, no... it's nothing. Sorry, it's just nerves. Rina: Ah, no worries then! Really, I thought it was cute, you looked like a baby animal. Nishida: C-Cute...? Is that so... Nishida: (I can't tell her that I'm traumatized from my boss's training, and that I'm looking for a good spot to fight a pack of thugs...) Nishida: (Or that I'm being cautious about drinking the water brought to me in case it's been poisoned...) Nishida: (The boss's lessons on a woman's heart... my body sure remembers them, huh... ha...) Rina: Ah, that's right! Listen to this! I'm not making this up, the other day at the park, I saw a squirrel-- (Tl note: I thought that was just, the end of her sentence at first. she's just REALLY excited about squirrels) <scene transition to outside> Rina: Nishida-san, your recommendation of restaurant was delicious! I'm definitely bringing all my friends there 🎶
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Nishida: I'm glad. I like going there because it's fairly cheap while still being delicious. Rina: Cheap and delicious restaurants are the best. I feel like it being cheap makes it taste even better, you know? Nishida: Ah, I get you! It's really a question of mood. This restaurant here is also good. There's this pork fried with ginger and grated daikon on top-- Rina: Hehe, you sure know your eateries Nishida-san. I'll have to rely on you next time I can't decide where to go eat~. Rina: ................So...... What are you doing after this? (tl note: NISHIDA SCORES?) Nishida: Eh? Umm... What am I doing. Maybe... getting drinks? Rina: ...Could we go somewhere to rest a bit? There's a place where we can talk slow and relaxed. (tl note: NISHIDA GETS SCAMMED?) Nishida: Eh? Somewhere to rest and relax? That's... Rina: Hehe... You'll have fun if you go. Come on. <another scene transition> Nishida: This is... the place?
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Nishida: (BAR, huh... The hallway to the bathroom would be good to use if I'm outnumbered...) (Tl note: yeah the bar is named. BAR. in english. which is just great for translating) Nishida: (I'm still hung up on my boss's training, it really messed me up... I'm not the protagonist of a battle manga...) Rina: What do you think? I find it very relaxing, and since it's a hole-in-the-wall kind of place there's not crowded so you can really take your time and talk. (Tl note: very funnily hole-in-the-wall is fairly direct, the jpn being 穴場 or "hole place") Nishida: Ahh, you're right, this is a very relaxing place. Rina: Yeah. ...Hmm? Nishida-san, did you perhaps think it was something naughty? (tl note: well I sure did) Nishida: N-No... I-It's nothing like that...! Rina: Hehe, no need to panic. I just said it to make you conscious of it 🎶 (Tl note: struggling with the second sentence here, it's ふふっ、 慌てなくてもいいですよ。ちょっと意識させようと思って言いましたし🎶) Nishida: Eh...? Muscular Bartender: ...Are you ready to order?
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Rina: For me, a kahlua milk! Nishida: Umm... How about... Barley shochu. (Tl note: 麦の水割り, which probably has a better word for it but that's my best guess) Bartender: ...Alright. Here's your kahlua milk and barley shochu. Rina: Well then, kanpaiii 🎶 Nishida: Ahh, kanpai! (Tl note: Nishida why do you say kanpai in full kanji you fucking dweeb) Nishida: (I keep thinking my boss might emerge from beneath the bar, so I'm worried about this drink being poisoned...) Nishida: (There's no way it's actually poisoned... though... hmm... there's a bitterness...) Rina: ...? Is something wrong, Nishida-san? Nishida: No... it's just, this tastes like the sleeping pills my boss made me take... Bartender: ....! Nishida: Yep... My boss made me take sleeping pills over and over, and this... tastes exactly like those sleeping pills. I don't know why it would be sleeping pills... Rina: IIII have no idea why that would be. Right, bartender? Bartender: ...Sir, we are an upstanding business. We don't take false accusations lightly. Nishida: Ah, no, I didn't even say you put them in there... Nishida: But someone could have put them in there to cause trouble for you, so the police should check the other drinks to be sure Bartender: ....Tch. Oi. <a bunch of thugs jump out> Nishida: !? Bartender: You all, this guy's making up lies about us. Shake him down for some apology money to make up for it. Nishida: No, I'm not accusing you of anything. All I'm saying is a quick confirmation-- Bartender: You all! Get him! Nishida: (They aren't listening... I'm getting the feeling that the sleeping pills weren't in there on accident.) Nishida: (I'm up against 4 opponents. If they surround me I'm done for..... that's it! I just need time.) Nishida: Rina-san! Hide in the bathroom! Rina: Uh... r-right! Bartender: Wait! Do you really want to hide somewhere with no exit? Bartender: ...What's the point...? Is he going to bunker down in the hallway... Nishida: I know there's no way out of this... Only Rina-san will be hiding. Nishida: (This narrow corridor in front of the bathroom, it'll force them to come one at a time. This is my only way to win.) Bartender: ...Heh... You went through all that trouble to run, only to go for a narrow hallway with no way out.
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Bartender: You'll regret ever speaking a single false word about my drinks!!!!
<fight time>
Bartender: S-... stupid...
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<he hits the ground> Nishida: Haa... Haa... That was close. Nishida: If I didn't make use of those tight quarters, I would have been a goner as soon as they got behind me. Nishida: All thanks to that training my boss gave me on fighting multiple opponents... Nishida: And the fact that I had to drink sleeping pilsl and laxatives so I'd know what they tasted like... that ended up being useful too. <the door opens> Rina: N-Nishida-san... are you okay? ...Eh!? You... beat all of them? Nishida: Yeah... somehow, I managed it. I think we should get out of here before they wake up. Rina: Umm, no... I'm... Nishida: ....? What's wrong? Rina: I-It's... it's nothing... L-Let's go. <back outside> Rina: ...Yeah, I had no idea it was that kind of establishment. I really never thought they would attack you and try to take your money...
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Nishida: ...Hey, Rina-san. Earlier, why did you want to stay in the bar? Rina: Eh... th-that's... well... Nishida: ......... Nishida: ............If... If you're... an accomplice to that bar, it would be a good idea to stop doing that. Nishida: If you keep it up... I think you'll end up in a really bad situation some day. Rina: .....That's my choice, isn't it? Nishida: Eh...? Rina: ...Don't start talking like you're my boyfriend after one date! All you are to me is a source of revenue! Nishida: R-...Rina-san? Rina: It was me, I'm working with that bar, I took you there specifically to fuck you over! So? Happy now!? Rina: And now you've ceased to be useful to me. ...Never contact me again. <she leaves> Nishida: R-Rina-san... Nishida: ...I thought she was nice girl, too... Nishida: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her", huh. It's exactly like my boss said. Nishida: Boss... There's no way you expected all of this to happen, right...? Nishida: Rina-san went back to the store. I wonder... does she plan on doing the same thing again? Nishida: ............. <END PART 3>
Bartender: Shit... What's with that helmet bastard.... (Tl note: this is when I realized this was for real in 2006 and not a typo or a timeline mistake. which also means that Goromi hostess dates with Kiryu were a recurrent thing)
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<Rina enters> Rina: .................. Bartender: So you're back... Why the fuck did you bring such a huge pain in the ass here? Rina: ......I already told you, this is was the last time. I'm done. Erase the photo of Keiko from your phone. (Tl note: name is 恵子 which has multiple readings) Bartender: What was that? Rina: The nude photo you took of Keiko and blackmailed me with! You said you'd erase it if I brought 10 people here! Bartender: Ain't happening. I didn't get any cash from that last one. You gotta do it again. Rina: That's bullshit! You all messed up, not me! Rina: If you try to make me do any more I'm going to the police, so hurry up and delete the photo already! Bartender: You really want your bestie's nude erased, huh. If so... going to the cops is going to be a problem. Bartender: So... <another goon slides in> Rina: !?
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Bartender: I'll just have to get a photo of you next, so that doesn't happen. <goon grabs her> Rina: L-Let go...! Bartender: Just some nudity won't be enough for opposing me. We'll make an extra hard video... heheh. Rina: N-.... No-- <the door slams open> Bartender: !? <a punch lands> Strong looking man: Guh...
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<he hits the floor> Nishida: ...I heard what you said. Rina-san, you did this all to help your friend.
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Rina: N-Nishida-san... Why did you come here? Nishida: "Don't presume to know a woman when you're only looking at one side of her", that's what my boss taught me. Nishida: It was a really horrible feeling, when I thought I had been betrayed by a girl who seemed nice and kind. Rina: ........ Nishida: But, at the same time I had another thought. Fucking me over was just one aspect of you. Nishida: So I came here to see the whole picture and be able to understand it. Nishida: ...I'm glad I believed what my boss taught me. I would have regretted it if I left the situation alone, thinking I understood it. Rina: Nishida-san... Bartender: Heh, I get to see some cheap melodrama. It's real convenient you came back here, shithead.
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Bartender: I was careless last time, but it won't happen again. You're going to regret coming back to rescue that woman!!!! Nishida: (This time I won't be able to make use of the bathroom hallway.) Nishida: (So far I've been able to scrape by thanks to my boss's special training...) Nishida: (But I wasn't taught anything for this situation. This will be a test of my own strength!) Nishida: I may not have any help from my boss, but... I will protect Rina-san, with my own power!
<fight time>
Bartender: Fuck... er...
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<he hits the floor> Nishida: Haa... Haa... I... won... <Nishida also hits the floor> Rina: N-Nishida-san! <and he's back up> Nishida: ...I'll be fine... Quick, go delete... your friend's photo from his phone, please. Rina: Ah, r-right! <scene transition, police sirens wail> Nishida: ...Sounds like the cops are coming. Rina: Seems so. I'm... going to tell the police everything. I'm not going to run from my punishment. Nishida: You only did it because you were being threatened... I'm sure the punishment won't be that harsh.
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Rina: ...Nishida-san. <she hugs him> Nishida: ...!
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Rina: ...Thank you. Rina: My boyfriend is going to be mad that I'm saying this, but... you looked really hot... seriously, thank you. (Tl note: ohhhhhhhh I knew this wouldn't work out but RIP Nishida. he never scored) Nishida: Eh... <outside now> Nishida: ...Well, I guess she really has a boyfriend.
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Nishida: But, it's fine. It's not like this kind of thing is about dating. Majima Family Member: Oh! Nishida! Are you okay!? I've been worried sick! Nishida: ...Eh? Wh-What? Majima Member: Lately, there's been a lot of nasty sleep-robbery bars. There was this picture of a woman floating around that we're supposed to watch out for... Majima Member: Here, this woman. And someone saw you walking around with her, so I got worried, you know? (Tl note: bisexual rebound time?)
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Nishida: This is... Rina-san!? I guess she did say she'd done that a lot, so it makes sense there would be rumors... Majima Member: Hold on... You already knew? Nishida: Ah, yeah... But, she's washed her hands of it all, so could you please stop circulating that photo? Majima Member: ...Well, if you don't want me to, then I guess there's nothing more to be done. Nishida: I'm glad... Um, did that photo possible get shown to our boss? Majima Member: Hm? Ah, yeah he was shown it. About 3 days ago, I think. Nishida: 3 days ago... So all those lessons about a woman's heart from yesterday were... for this. <flashback> Goromi:  What kinda girl is she? And what do ya think of her?
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Nishida: Umm... here's a picture from the group dating. Nishida: She's a really sweet, attentive, and kind, and we get along... I think it'd be really great if we ended up dating... Goromi: ......... Nishida: ...Boss? Is something wrong? Is there something strange about the photo? Goromi: ...Just shocked. A beautiful lady like her is all but wasted on ya. <flashback over> Nishida: (Now I understand that reaction... Boss must've realized who Rina-san was...) Nishida: (All those lessons about a woman's heart... In the end it was what saved me.) Nishida: (Was... all of that just so... I wouldn't get sleep-robbed...!?) Nishida: ...Do you know where our boss is right now? Majima Member: The boss? Pretty sure she said something about waiting for Kiryu-san at SHINE. Nishida: Thanks. <Nishida walks off> Majima Member: H-Hey. Nishida! (tl note: RIP unnamed Majima Family Member, he never scored)
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<now at SHINE> Nishida: Umm... The boss is... there!
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Nishida: Boss! Thank you so much! Because I kept all of your lessons in mind, the date today went perfectly! Nishida: Boss... You knew about what Rina-san was up to, didn't you... So you secretly did all that for my sake-- Goromi: ...Ooh, Nishida! Perfect timin'! Nishida: Eh...? Goromi: Kiryu-chan just came to the club! The plan was a massive success! Goromi: That surprised look on Kiryu-chan's face... Fun conversations leading to a fun fight! I had the greatest time!
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Nishida: A-Ahh! Is that so! That's really great! Nishida: So anyways boss, about what I was telling you regarding the date... Goromi: Your date? What's that got to do with Kiryu-chan? Nishida: Um... nothing I suppose... Goromi: Then why would I wanna hear about dumb shit like that? Goromi: I'm busy draftin' up a plan for my next fight with Kiryu-chan! Ya better get plannin' right away too!
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Nishida: Ah, r... right... Got it. Goromi: Hehe, my blood's already pumpin'! Now, what next to entertain Kiryu-chan~! (Tl note: "blood's already pumping" is 腕が鳴るでえ which is more literally "my arm is ringing/rumbling" or "I'm itching to put my skills to use") <she leaves> Nishida: (...Well, that's fine. No matter what the truth is, I'm certain that it's all thanks to my boss that I'm still alive.) Nishida: (More importantly... I need to properly return the favor.)
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Nishida: Boss! Wait up, please! I'll think of something great too! <END>
and then here's all of Nishida's various thoughts on things from the board game:
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Kiryu-no-ojiki
A man known as the Dragon of Dojima who is absurdly strong in a fight. He’s my boss’s very favorite. Only as a fighter, though...
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Alcohol
Drinking alcohol is a great stress reliever! But you have to be careful not to over do it. You should drink rather than be drunk.
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Boss’s High Heels
My boss wore these while working at a cabaret club and turned them into a deadly weapon. Getting kicked by them would surely kill...
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SHINE
A cabaret club where my boss occasionally works as a hostess. The store has a good reputation, but the customers my boss serves must have a difficult time...
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Boss
My boss. Occasionally my boss puts on a dress and works as a hostess, but there’s never been any complaints. Though, would anyone really push on that...
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Butterfly Necktie
The necktie I wear while working as a waiter. It may look like a ribbon, but it’s actually very common in formal settings. 
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Downtown Chinpira
Is this guy running shakedowns!? Bullying the weak is something only cowards do! Guys like this need to be taught a lesson!
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The Majima Family A leading group within the Tojo Clan that's known for its violent conflicts. The family is a group of ruffians, I don't know why I ended up in it...
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Majima Family Members
They're a violent and strange bunch, but if you take the time to really talk with them they’re surprisingly pleasant company. Well, they do still look scary...
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Kamurocho
Painted in gaudy neon, it’s Japan’s number one entertainment district. The first time I came here, I was shocked at how many people there were.
and VERY FINALLY bonus stuff, namely the two cards! Goromi, the dreadful luck hostess, and Nishida, the mad dog’s errand boy.
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this one was sooooooooooooooooooo long but also we got lore that Goromi was NOT a one-off event. which is so much more than I could have ever hoped for. I also love that Kiryu has apparently gotten the text from Nishida on multiple occasions and is shocked every time that Goromi is there waiting on him. and they still go on the date, every time
it’s not even rituals at that point they’re just using Nishida as a date coordinator with the flimsiest pretext in the world. this is that guy fighting the waffle house cook levels of pretext
437 notes · View notes
rallamajoop · 6 months
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On Mia Winters, misogyny, and abuse
As should be pretty obvious by now, I love Mia Winters. I honestly think she’s one of the most compelling characters in this whole damn franchise.
But let me make clear: you don’t have to love her. Mia’s canonically done a lot of shady shit in her time, and her relationship with Ethan has real problems. There are perfectly viable interpretations where the only thing really holding it together is his own denial. Only I never seem to get to read any of those takes, because the most common characterisations Mia gets in fic are an irredeemable monster, or a cardboard cutout who exists only to be written out as quickly as possible. And to write Mia out to that degree doesn’t just do her character a disservice, it does Ethan a disservice, and a big one.
The amount of Mia-bashing I see out there in this fandom turns my stomach. It’s not just the slash fans who’d rather ship Ethan with another dude. I have seen Mia loudly bashed in tags on het or gen fic in which she does not even appear. I have seen male fans reviewing these games on youtube who treat her the exact same way. But it’s never more frustrating than when that hate comes from the same fans who’ll turn around and talk about characters like Chris or even Lady Dimitrescu (she who canonically abuses her and murders her servants, and, y’know, eats people without a shred of remorse) like they’re perfectly forgivable and have done no real wrong. And don’t get me wrong: I love Lady D, but I love her because she’s magnificently evil. Mia? Mia’s a whole lot more complicated.
But to really explain why this hate makes me so uncomfortable, I’m going to have to start with the start of Resident Evil 7, and Mia’s very first scenes in this whole franchise.
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Let me quickly summarise the opening of that game. A man whose wife disappeared without explanation suddenly gets a message about her whereabouts. He travels to an isolated location, breaks in, and finds her. She denies ever sending him that message, and seems incredibly distressed that he’s there at all. They fight. It ends with him sinking an axe into her neck and shooting her several times with a handgun. But see, he didn’t do anything wrong! It was all self-defence! She started it! She was acting crazy!
If you didn’t spot it, the whole opening of RE7 reads uncomfortably like a story about a woman escaping an abusive relationship, then being tracked down and murdered by her ex.
Obviously, I am not here to tell you Ethan’s abusive. He’s not, we’ve got no reason to imagine he is. He was legitimately acting in self-defence.
But the fact the first thing Ethan has to do in this game is find the balls to kill his own wife ‒ that a whole new era of Resi games has opened with a sequence so easily read as a sympathetic justification for how a man might perfectly innocently track down his missing spouse and "have" to kill her – that made those opening minutes into by far the most uncomfortable part of this whole franchise for me. Shit like this really happens. I mean it, I will track down the fucking statistics on women who are murdered after trying to leave an abusive partner if I have to.
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What happens to ‘Mia’ in the opening to RE8 isn’t much better: it's as textbook a fridging as any I’ve ever seen. Yes, it’s a fridging that gets retconned away later when she turns up alive, but the fact that’s even possible speaks to just how awful and confusing her death is. The game opens with Mia’s violent murder at the hands of this series’ longest running ‘hero’, and the event is framed entirely in terms of how awful it is for her husband. That's as frigid as a fridging gets.
The eventual reveal that the real Mia was just trapped alone in a cell being experimented on by a madwoman for god knows how long doesn’t actually make it better. The horror Mia goes through in both these games is a footnote, barely explored.
I bring these events up not to condemn the RE franchise, not to say that including these sequences was unconscionable, or that violence against women can never be shown in a horror title. A quick glance at my tumblr should demonstrate how much I adore these games. Tropes like fridging become problems only because they’re so ubiquitous they can come to define almost the only roles women get to play, not because any individual example is necessarily grounds for outrage. If anything, there’s just as much to analyse in all the hate thrown at characters like Ethan Winters (or his predecessor, Jonathan Harker) as a archtypical examples of sexism against men – backlash against the very idea of a male character in the disempowered role of horror victim, usually reserved for women.
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But with this context in mind, my god is it uncomfortable to see people talk about Mia as irredeemable monster who deserves to suffer more. People who will valorise the likes of Chris Redfield, who didn’t even bother to stop to tell Ethan that’s not Mia, yet talk about Mia like being shot to death in her own living room was only what she deserved. That is just a whole load of yikes.
And given that both games open with Mia being violently killed by a male protagonist (twice in RE7, with the player in control), it sure is convenient how so many people have managed to ‘find’ the evidence that proves she’s the real villain. You don’t have to think too hard about Chris Redfield as a violent maniac or Ethan Winters being forced to kill his own wife if it’s okay to inflict violence on this woman. “Yes, but she shouldn’t have done [X]…” or even “But what if she’s the real abuser” is a narrative that gets thrown at real women in abusive relationships all the time – especially when the man is a friend of whoever’s casting judgement, or even a celebrity. Real world examples of this shit in the wild run the gamut from wild fan-takes on The Shining ‘proving’ that actually the abused wife was the ‘real’ abuser all along, right up to the ongoing hate campaign against Amber Heard. People don’t want to have to think badly of someone they admire, and will take any excuse to shift the blame. The stakes are infinitely lower when we’re talking about fictional characters, but the same pattern plays out.
And look, I do get it. It’s easy to go into these games and come out with a negative opinion of Mia. She’s the one who lures you into danger in RE7, acts all innocent, and then comes at Ethan with a chainsaw – and when you finally find out her big secret at the end, it turns out she was working for the people who created Eveline from the start! You’re really not given a lot of reasons to invest in Ethan and Mia’s relationship before she’s suddenly coming at him with a knife, and the fact she never does get to come clean to him in canon leaves a bad taste in the mouth.
It’s really easy to go into RE8, note all the glaring signs that Ethan’s relationship with Mia isn’t healthy, and draw your own conclusions about a woman we don’t hardly even see again for most of the runtime of the game. Half this goddamn fandom still seems to think Heisenberg is actually a lycan, ffs – most of what people think they know about Mia is more meme than fact, and the rest is pretty surface level. Basic media literacy is not exactly high out there in the tumblrweeds (let alone the rest of the internet).
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But as for the idea that Mia’s responsible for all the horrors Ethan went through, people seem to forget that Mia herself went through so much worse. Ethan spent a day in the Bakers’ property, and a day in the village. Mia spent years trapped in the Bakers’ property, and days at least imprisoned in Miranda’s lab, knowing exactly how much danger her family were in, helpless to save them. She’s no innocent herself, but ye gods has she already suffered for her crimes.
So with all that out of the way, well, what’s the actual ‘evidence’ that Mia herself was abusive? No-one's coming into this one without some bias, but let’s at least give it a fair shake.
Right upfront, I want to recognise that in both fiction and reality, women can be abusers, and men can be victims. Abuse in heterosexual relationships is far more likely to occur with the man as the abuser, but the reverse does happen, and the fact culture at large can be so eager to cast the woman as the villain doesn’t make it any easier for the real male victims of abuse to get recognition and help. Society as a whole is still just really shitty about enabling or excusing real abuse.
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But the idea that Mia was abusive has very little to back it up. Whatever you make of “her” interactions with Ethan at the start of the game, the fact remains: that’s not Mia, and the fact she’s acting so strangely is meant to be our clue that something much bigger than a little marital strife is going on here. Knowing all this doesn’t really make the scene where she’s violently executed less disturbing, but you can’t miss the hints we don’t yet know the full story.
So the question becomes, is there any evidence that the real Mia was abusive? I’ve dug into this one a bit before in my post about trying to figure out the timeline of exactly when Mia was replaced, but there are no definitive answers as to how long Miranda's been living in their house. To summarise a long post (and a surprisingly lively timeline of events from the days before the game begins): the most likely intent seems to be that Miranda’s been posing as Mia for less than a week, though a lot of the vibes of the scene give me the impression it’s been several weeks at least. Ultimately, that’s going to come down to your own interpretation.
The Mia mentioned in Ethan’s diary who blew up at him at the hospital could be the real Mia, but more likely isn’t: you can’t really use her to argue anything definitive, one way or another. The Mia from the flashback where Ethan gets the call from Rose’s doctor is the real Mia, but if you think getting upset when your husband brushes off your obvious distress over your daughter’s health makes you abusive, then nothing I say here is going to convince you otherwise.
The only ‘real’ evidence that Mia might be a problem is one line you might hear from Ethan while taking Rose to bed, and it is admittedly a red flag: your mother’s scary when she’s angry.
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And to anyone whose whole hatred of Mia has been built backwards from this one line – especially anyone who’s grown up in a dysfunctional household themselves – hell, I get it. It is one really yikes thing for Ethan to say about his wife.
But in Mia’s defence, I can only point out that, well, yes, canonically, she is scary when she’s angry.
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Oh, did I say angry? I meant fucking possessed.
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And if Ethan’s bringing up the spectre of that time, even subconsciously, maybe that should be an even bigger clue that the Mia in this house right now isn’t Mia.
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But what really shows this line for what it is is that we’ve seen the real Mia angry. We’ve seen her cold fury at Eveline, daring to go right back to asking ‘can we be a family now?’ within hours forcing Mia to assault her own husband with a chainsaw. We’ve seen her frustration at Ethan’s own denial, and we’ve seen her stalk out of the room when he blows off an important conversation for a call from work. We’ve seen her advance on Chris after he shut her down, demanding, Where is my husband? Where is my daughter?!
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We have never seen her angry without real justification. Her anger is neither violent nor disproportionate. It’s consistently purposeful, focused, and contained. There is nothing scary about the real Mia’s anger, unless you’re threatened by the very idea she might have something valid to be angry about.
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There is evidence of tension in the Winters’ marriage from before Miranda’s arrival, but it takes a very different form – most evident in the flashback scene where Ethan receives the call from Rose’s doctor. Far from Miranda’s brusque, dismissive copy of her, the real Mia is anxious and depressed, scared of what Rose’s results might reveal. Here, Ethan’s the one brushing her concerns aside (“We talked about this […] Rose is fine!”) He recognises there seems to be something Mia’s not telling him, says they should talk about it, but then immediately brushes the conversation off when he gets a call from work, while Mia storms out of the room.
You can certainly read Mia as a hypocrite here, getting angry at Ethan for not knowing things she’s deliberately kept from him. But it’s Ethan who decides a call from work is more important than a conversation with his wife – someone who is obviously distressed, canonically still on a regime of drugs after the traumatic events of RE7, very likely suffering PTSD along with Ethan, and maybe even some form of postpartum depression. We don’t know anything about Ethan’s work, so there’s no point in speculating about how much he ‘needs’ to take that call. Mia’s no clear villain here – quite the opposite.
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Personally, I tend towards taking this scene as evidence that Mia has tried to talk to Ethan about what really happened to him, but hasn’t managed to get him to face the truth. For all that Ethan supposedly wants to talk about the past, it’s a defining plot point that he’s badly in denial himself.
Or they could both be at some fault here: Ethan unwilling to face the truth, while Mia is reluctant to force him to face something she knows will hurt him and bring him distress. Even when Mia says outright that she ‘tried to keep this a secret, but…’ to Chris at the end of the game, the implication is as much that she’s tried to keep it a secret from people like Chris, who might decide Ethan is dangerous. She’s lied to protect him before, and if she’s still lying to him about her past with the Connections, then the fact that knowing the truth will hurt Ethan is obviously among her reasons. Protecting Ethan has always been among Mia’s top priorities ‒ even at her own expense.
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The only other real hints we get about Mia’s inner life come from the glimpses of her we get in Donna’s domain. But I’m hesitant to read too much into these, given how unclear it is how much is just a manifestation of Ethan’s own anxieties. If anything, the ‘Mia’ in these scenes almost seems to have some far worse secret than simply having not told Ethan something he really ought to have put together on his own, and I’d kind of love to see that explored too – at least as long as that goes somewhere more interesting than round umpteen of ‘and that’s why Mia sucks’.
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But my point here isn’t that you have to read any of these scenes the same way I do. I do think it’s important to recognise that nothing written for a game like RE is truly character-driven; scenes exist to serve the plot far more than to reflect consistent character motivations or hold up to fridge logic (which, let’s face it, is the real reason for most of Chris’ horrific behaviour in this game, let alone anyone else’s). The result is rarely super consistent, and leaves ample space for multiple interpretations of anyone’s motivations. Regardless, the idea there’s any hard evidence that Ethan and Mia’s relationship is dysfunctional, or that whatever’s wrong is Mia’s fault alone, is going to be incredibly hard to justify.
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Any assertion that Ethan and Mia are somehow on the verge of divorce also needs to be weighed against the masses of evidence of how much they love each other – the number of times Mia has said she loves Ethan, up to and including (yes, I’m bringing this up again) how ready she is to die for him in RE7. Her speech to Chris at the end of RE8 states explicitly that being together with Ethan and Rose is the only thing that matters to her. “Mia, I’m sorry, I love you,” are some of the last words Ethan ever speaks – and I can’t help but read into how the moment he finally pushes Rose into Chris’ arms so they can get away with him weighing them down is right after he learns that Mia is alive, and thus implicitly that Rose won’t be alone if Ethan doesn’t make it. And good god does that scene break my heart every time.
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It’s worth recognising that the fact Ethan and Mia love each other doesn’t inherently mean their relationship is healthy, or that you have to love them together as much as I do. Like I said up top, you don’t have to like Mia, and you don’t have to justify not liking her if you don’t. I would genuinely like to see fics where Mia and Ethan’s supposedly-necessary break up feels in character. Where Ethan loves her but just can’t deal with the resentment and the fallout over all the lies she told him, where he's been clinging to his 'happy ending' with Mia after surviving the Bakers so hard he can't face the fact things just aren't working, or where he’s having to face that their relationship only ever really worked because she was away so much. It will break my heart, but fiction is allowed to do that.
But god, it would be nice if people could just take the bashing below an eleven around this place. The number of times I’ve had to sigh and back-button out of reading something, because yet another author has decided to project their own hatred for Mia onto the husband who’s still reeling from watching her being violently murdered in front of him… it gets fucking old, y’know?
I would really like to think that in the year of our lord 2024, fandom would be a bit past this thing where they bash the canonical female love interest in the name of shipping the hero with another dude. People will bend over backwards to try and cast Heisenberg and Chris as guys who really care about consent and worry about Ethan getting hurt, because heaven forbid anyone be caught shipping something slightly problematic. And yet misogyny still somehow gets a pass.
You do not have to love Mia. You don’t even have to like her. But ye gods, the hate she gets is baseless and absurd.
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Hasn't this poor woman suffered enough?
(And on that note, I promise I am finally done soapboxing in defence of Mia Winters, thank you for bearing with me for this long.)
174 notes · View notes
milktei · 14 days
Text
Love at First Rental
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Wise x Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff, meet-cute
Warnings: None
a/n: hello! it’s been a while. recently i’ve been playing a ton of zzz (interknot level 43 already o-o) and it’s such a silly game and i love wise <3.
also recently i’ve been coming to terms with the fact that it’s okay if my fics are shorter than i’m used to so hopefully my i can post more things in the near future
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“I don’t understand girls, let alone virtual ones.” Something wise told his sister half jokingly when they were first introduced to their new assistant Fairy. He was just so busy with proxy duties, running Random Play, and making sure that Belle didn’t run into trouble that he never really put much thought into meeting new people and going on dates.
Unfortunately for him, there was currently a really pretty girl in the store and he suddenly wished that the opposite was true.
He hopes he didn’t seem too creepy from where he stood behind the counter watching as you perused the collection of the store. 18 was in the staff room with Belle for some maintenance after it started counting change wrong, so Wise opted to just take over the store for the short amount of time it would take.
It was both a blessing and a curse that you just so happened to walk into the store at that moment.
From what he could tell you hadn’t been to the store before, you definitely weren’t a regular and it didn’t seem like you had any specific film to pick out in mind.
‘Just let me know if you need any help’ he wanted to say, but his mouth stayed shut. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, his mouth was dry, what if his voice cracked?
He forced his eyes away from you to look at other customers, the luckyboo to his left, the window outside. Anything but you, staring was rude after all.
“Excuse me.” Wise gripped the edge of the counter tightly, the voice was unfamiliar but deep down he knew. Such a nice voice couldn’t belong to anyone else that was in the store. He swallowed, turning his head to look at you.
You make eye contact and it takes everything in him to not let his legs give out.
He smiles, hoping it didn’t look too awkward, “How can i help you?” He asks calmly *calmly*.
You smile, and Wise nearly melts. Was it normal for a stranger to have such a big effect on him?
“I’m gonna be honest I’m a bit overwhelmed with the selection you have here,” you say sheepishly, “I was wondering if you had any recommendations?”
His hands start sweating as he mentally starts going through the store’s catalog, “Of course, you have any genres in mind?” he mentally pats himself on the back for not stuttering.
You take a moment to think, “Honestly I’m just looking for a film that’s calm, something I can watch to wind down. So anything like that? Even a good documentary would work.”
Wise nearly shouts in victory. A documentary? Perfect, absolutely perfect. “Well actually I enjoy watching documentaries, depending on what interests you I would recommend…”
Wise spends the better part of ten minutes making recommendations, and why he enjoys specific films. To his surprise you’re listening to every word and nodding along, even asking questions as he talks.
Eventually, you settle on a film to rent and Wise is pulling up the stores system to start the transaction.
“Can i have your number?” he says suddenly as you pull out your card to pay.
You look at him stunned, “Pardon me?”
Wise’s eyes widen as he realizes what he just said, “F-for our system!” he coughs, “Just to keep track of what you’ll be renting, a-and if you like you can sign up for a membership too.”
You blink, “Um, actually yeah I’d love to sign up.”
His gaze snaps to meet yours, usually it took a bit more convincing from customers. “That’s great!” he manages to say, was it getting warm in the store? “I’d just need you name and your number then.”
The rest of the transaction relatively goes smoothly. With him now knowing your name and having your number—for the membership of course—along with you promising to swing by the store again and talk about more movies with him.
The door to the shop finally swings shut behind you, and Wise drops his head, leaning on the counter with an embarrassed sigh.
It’s then that he hears a snicker to his right and he looks up. His sister stands there with a fixed and waving 18, and an amused smirk on her face.
“…How much did you-“
“Oh just the last bit,”
Wise groans and drops his head again.
66 notes · View notes
Imagine being Ruggie sister who somehow got in to night raven as a student and everything progress on and them as a Ramshackle perfect due to them being a kind person like Tanjiro and strong yet but of a nerd liked Deku with a unique magic of growing plants
What's more she a home maker due to them living in the slums ( like meding clothes, cooking, fixing things as she can, using home remedies when sick and help their bother with the kids at home ) with Ruggie and too working hard to get out of there as they wanted to be a doctor
Let's say due to their genuine kindness Leona, Malleus, Idia, Jamal, Carter and Riddle have a unhealthy obsession crush with Ruggie sister who doesn't share the same romantic feeling and only sees them as a friend
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Ruggie's Little Sister Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
Perfectly built for Ramshackle, you happily take to it despite your brother’s insistence you stay next to him in Savvannaclaw. But you’ve never been one to listen to your big brother and you can definitely handle it. You probably fare better than the original in terms of dealing with Night Raven. Because you know how to sweet up boys with mean attitudes, maybe a little too well:
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Leona Kingscholar
“Look herbivore, don’t try to boss me-”
“Who’re you calling herbivore!? I’m talking to you, about this lazy cat behavior!”
“Lazy cat-”
“(Y/n) please–”
“No Ruggie, you baby him far too much! I’m stepping in!”
He at first really hates you
Like really 
You do all the things Ruggie does just not for him
In fact you make him do things that make him tired
It’s a pain 
But for whatever reason he’s getting especially happy when you praise him
Only for you 
He’s violent with anyone who comments on the work you have him doing
Its the only reason he keeps in your good graces and thats enough for him
“I’m proud of you, Leona! Now come I’ve cooked up some fillet mignon and it has your name on it!”
“It better. I’m never doing my own laundry again.”
“Hahaha yes you will.”
Ruggie is nervous about this but appreciates you picking up the slack
It sometimes bothers him how much time his employer starts spending with you
But he’s not too worried Leona understands his desire to protect you
“Huh?! You got him to do that?! What should I expect, you are my little sister.”
“Don’t act like I’m not the cooler one of us two.”
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Malleus Draconia 
“Ah horn-dude, I was just looking for you.”
“Horn-dude? And you were looking for me?”
“Yeah I was thinking of adding some gardenias, and maybe some vines for decoration. I wanted your opinion since you like coming by here so often.”
“The vines would pertain to a more beautifully abandoned image…but that might just be my preference.”
“Oh thanks so much, Horns!”
His crush is so obvious 
Talking about you often to his guards and mentor
And whenever anyone goes to talk to him he finds some odd way to incorporate you into the conversation 
Trust me its weird for everyone when he starts talking about you during potions when their dissecting magical creatures
he can’t stop trying to talk to you
But he usually ends up just staring at you from the distance
Waiting until your instincts pick up on his presence
And your forced to invite him to join whatever your doing
“Ah! Horns didn’t see you over there! Do you want in? We’re making paper flowers for the festival want to join?”
“I would love to!” 
“What?! Horns?! (Y/n) why are you lettinghimjoin giving him more paper!? I know what I’m doing!” 
“Sure you do.”
Ruggie’s scared out of his mind 
How did you get mixed up with this overpowered monster
He can’t do too much now without knowing he’s going to die
But if it means saving you from certain doom aka Malleus Draconia it might be worth it
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Idia Shroud
“Alright that’s enough!”
“W-what?!”  
“No more games before you finish cleaning your room! Ortho and I can help but–”
“Actually (Y/n)-san, I recently pulled up a study that states letting children clean their own rules helps instill better habits when their adults!”
“Ortho!?”
“Oh great idea! Well we’ll be just outside! Come on Ortho let’s plan out our cosplay!”
“Yes!”
“G-guys?!”
He hates that you mother him
But he absolutely loves it when you mother him
He cries about being in the dreaded friendzone kidzone
But boy does he love the way you pat his head or let him cuddle into your chest
He loves the food you make during marathons
Or how you’ll let yourself be distracted by the games you really like
He gets drastic if you spend too long out of his reach
So he sets up cameras+ 
So he takes any opportunity to speak with you
So he puts others in horrifying accidents
“Heeheh by the time I’m done you’ll be the best girl-gamer in the space. And then it’ll be a given for you to never leave the ultimate guy-gamer!” 
“Ewww keep my sister out of your nerd schemes!” 
“Eeep! An enemy has appeared!”
Ruggie thinks he’s a nerd with no game
But nonetheless he knows Idia’s smart but not street smart
“Hishishsishi can’t set the trap if you don’t have the button! Hardly even noticed me swiping his gadget.” 
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Jamil Viper 
“I appreciate the help, (Y/n).”
“Of course, you’re always running yourself ragged…I wanted to do something for you.”
“...I really appreciate the lunches you’ve made for me…it’s been a while since I’ve eaten a meal by someone else.” “Well just give me a call I don’t mind cooking for you or lending a hand.”
He’s smitten nbyond comprehension
Now going out of his way to hypnotize anyone else into a corner when it comes to talking to you
Its the least he does out of retaliation
He knows all his flirting and hints go right over your head
But your still cute 
Until you do get it he’s pulling the rug out from any and all competitors
“Hey (Y/n), why don’t you join me in the kitchen? Maybe, show me how you made those potato crisps?”
“Sure, Jamil I’d love to!”
“Ah ah! Not without me you’re not!”
Ruggie knows Jamil’s like him but smarter
Sly and sneaky
Powers aside Ruggie’s sure Jamil’s problematic for your safety
“Don’t think for a second, I’ll let you have them! I'm not that fond of snakes!”
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Carter Diamond 
“Wah~(Y/n) you’re so photogenic! Will you pose for me one more time?”
“Well alright. If it’ll make you happy.”
“It’ll make me more than happy!” He loves how oblivious you are 
He absolutely hates it+
But your just so cute 
He guesses he can forgive it 
And hey while your learning the ropes he’s more than happy to keep you close
“Hey hey don’t forget to keep up our streak!”
“Streak?”
“Yeah we’ve been sharing our photos throughout the day of what we’re doing.”
“Yup! It’s a great way to keep track of her!”
“Ick-!”
Ruggie knows he’s slippery
When it comes to tailing him Cater’s good at giving the slip
“Not on my watch. I’m not giving you the chance, to trick my baby sister.”
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Riddle Rosehearts
“That’s entirely unreasonable, I’m not doing that!”
“Grrr (Y/n) these are the rules I thought you would respect that.”
“And I thought you would know to relax!”
He thinks your sweet but totally unreasonable
So he guesses you both have something to learn from each other
You more than him obviously
While he doesn’t think highly of your brother he knows your different
And you belong to him
He’s not going to take ‘no’ for an answer
If this is a battle of wills he’d win it
Even if that means subjecting your bad influences to being beheaded
“Riddle! You can't just put that collar on my brother like that!”
“Yeah I’m not even apart of your dorm!”
“Don’t be mad at me for enforcing rules. I know you know the very least of the rules. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise that your brother just doesn’t measure up. Which means you should leave him before he drags you down.”
Ruggie is peeved that such a prick is after his sister
But he’s not worried 
He’s definitely not cool enough to keep your attention
Not to mention he’s so easy to anger 
It’ll be fun to rile him up
“Hishishishi so mad oh so fast! You’ll barely survive dating them if your this easy.”
819 notes · View notes
lelengerine · 1 year
Note
because of ur new gamer!hyuck post my brain has once again been infiltrated with him and i thought of a request if ur able to do it!
so do yk the whole perilla leaf debate that was going on in korea like a while ago? i was thinking maybe hyuck sees reader peel a perilla leaf for someone else (or reader sees hyuck do it) and then later when they’re streaming together, one of them asks chat who was in the wrong and to back them up/choose sides (jokingly ofc)
you had me thinking as soon as i read this TT i think it's so fun so i just had to write it asap! thank you for the req and i hope you enjoy reading :>
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up for debate
pairing | gamer!hyuck x reader
genre | established relationship au, just a lot of fluff, mentions of food, nicknames are used for haechan (lovie) and reader (baby, cutie, lovie), gaming term mentioned (fps - first person shooting game), do lmk if i missed anything!
wc | 1.0k
m.list
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haechan’s been more clingy ever since the two of you parted ways with his friends, leaving the korean bbq restaurant you just ate at with weighted steps. it wasn’t like he didn’t act in this manner on a daily basis, because he often did, and it’s become something you’ve grown to adore over time—yet on this occasion, the gut feeling of him being off was getting to you.
honestly, you don’t even know the cause for the doubt you have on your boyfriend’s behavior. though, every time you try to pull it out of him by nudging his shoulder, he only rejects your advances of questioning by clinging onto you closer than he originally was. that surely wasn’t normal.
“hyuck, did i do something today?” you state softly as you take a step in the passenger seat of haechan’s car. 
“the perilla leaves.” his reply is simple, and you note of the pout in his voice. was he referring to the side dish you were eating earlier in the restaurant? just how does that have anything to do with his mood? 
you were utterly clueless.
“the perilla leaves?” you repeat, making sure you heard him right the first time. he nods his head, taking a quick glance at you before starting the car. “lovie, i don’t understand how a side dish-”
“shhh, you’ll understand soon enough, cutie. i think it’s a good topic to bring up on stream later when we get home.” he gives you a grin that does nothing to ease your confusion, in fact, it leaves you even with even more questions, but you decide to sit it out for the meanwhile till you both get home. 
and just like that, the ride back home feels longer than it should be, mainly because you're anticipating the stream you and haechan had planned in advance. you shift in your seat from the eagerness and haechan can’t help but chuckle as he watches you from his peripheral view. 
he rounds a familiar street corner, and you immediately know you’re both 5 minutes away from your house at most. you pass by a couple of houses before yours comes into view. “i better be hearing a good explanation of today, hyuckie.”
“so eager, baby. we’re literally here.” he points out, the car coming to a stop as he parks in the driveway. once you hear the doors unlock, you step out of the vehicle, urging your boyfriend to do the same so the two of you can start the stream already—a request he gives into easily.
entering haechan’s stream room without a moment to spare, you take a seat on the gaming chair beside his, one that’s usually reserved for you. he takes his place in the comfort of his own seat, turning his monitor on.
the streaming software immediately pops up as soon as the screen loads, haechan clicking a couple of buttons before his face cam signals that it had begun recording with a small red light flashing from it.
“hello everyone! me and y/n promised a stream for you guys today, right?” he flashes a wide smile towards the camera, and you send a small wave the audience’s way.
user_01: i’ve been anticipating this all day!!
user_02: if it isn’t our favorite couple <3
“hyuck said he had something to discuss and wanted you guys to be included in it.” you bring up without missing a beat.
“i was getting to that, baby!” haechan whines now that you’ve cut through his momentum, and you bring your hands to cup his soft cheeks while laughing. “sorry, lovie. continue?”
user_03: you guys are so cute TT
user_04: every time i come here, i feel even more single than i am…
“what do you guys think about your lover helping one of your best friends take a perilla leaf to eat?” he starts, and your eyes go wide, quickly recalling your actions from earlier in the restaurant.
user_05: no way!! nope nope nope!!
user_06: wait, what’s the problem from helping? idgi… i’m with y/n on this one
“hyuck, is this really what you’ve been thinking about?” you turn to face your boyfriend. “you know it means nothing-” 
“you used your chopsticks to help jisung a while ago!” oops, there goes the name drop. the younger was now probably going to receive a few messages from your audience about this conversation when he goes live later on. “that’s like… indirectly kissing him!”
user_07: I AGREE!! 100% hyuck’s right
user_08: idt it should mean anything. peeling shrimp for someone else tho… now that’s something
you both glance at the messages, noting your audience was split fifty-fifty regarding this issue. “the poor boy was struggling!” you try to reason out.
“you didn’t have to help him though! that’s a grown man!” he huffs in return.
“… he’s jaemin’s baby though?” you smile st him sheepishly after saying that, hoping it was a big enough of a loophole for him to drop his claims against you.
“not the same, babe.” your boyfriend deadpans with a look of disbelief, finally giving up on the debate, making you giggle from his expression.
“okaay, i’m sorry. i won’t do it again.” you bring up a pinky, and haechan instinctively wraps his own around yours.
“you see this, right guys?” he raises your intertwined pinkies, making sure the viewers are witnesses to your promise.
user_09: caught in 4k!!! 
“good.” hyuck beams as he sees the comment, lowering your hand down with his. “i think we got a bit pumped from that, don’t you think? now’s the perfect time to play games and keep the adrenaline up!”
user_10: omg play fnaf together ><
user_11: kinda want to see y/n play a fps
“y/n playing fps? what do you say, baby?” haechan asks, courtesy of the viewer’s suggestion, and you hesitantly nod along, knowing full-well it isn’t your forte by any means.
“i still don’t get how you move on from things so quickly.” you mumble mindlessly, resting your head on his shoulder as he opens up the first fps game he sees on his monitor, that being valorant.
“that doesn’t apply to you though! you’re forever stuck with this non-perilla leaf sharer.” he muses happily. “now come on! i’ll teach you how to play, lovie.”
“okay.” you lift your head back up with a smile peeking through the corners of your lips, leaving the perilla leaf situation up for someone else to debate on.
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bradshawsbitch · 2 years
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“just pretend to be my date.” with our sweetest boy bradley? i’ll never be able to pass up a fake dating trope
oh my god I love this!! let’s fake date our sweetest boy🥰💘
disclaimer: I grew up piss poor so I don’t really know anything about fancy dinners and stuff, so no hate if it’s ‘wrong’ lol.
warnings: f!reader, persistent dumbass coworker, Bradley being sweet!
Description; your co-worker can’t seem to figure out what the word ‘no’ means. Hopefully Bradley can help you with that!
Letting out a frustrated sigh, you sat at your desk at work, brows furrowed as you twirled side to side in your little office chair. It peeved you, that your co-worker obviously hadn’t been denied anything in his life. You cursed his mother, who obviously skipped teaching him the meaning of “no” and “leave me the fuck alone”. He was the quintessential man who has never been talked back to, and always has to get his way. Which is why you were in this predicament. There was going to be a huge charity dinner this upcoming weekend, and he had been pestering you for weeks to go as his date. Your kind ‘no’ had apparently flown over his head, and your more harsh ‘no’ made him laugh. His laugh made you want to kick him. Which you didn’t because you liked your job and would love to keep it.
Which is why you’d said you already had a date. In fact, you had a boyfriend. A long-term boyfriend. Why hadn’t he seen him? He’s been deployed. Yeah, he was deployed. He was in the navy, actually! You didn’t like that you had to mention that you ‘belonged’ to another man to get this other persistent man to back the fuck off.
You were in such deep shit. You’d told your coworker a name when he’d acted all suspicious. It was the first name that popped up in your head. Perhaps it was because he was the love of your life your best friend, and you trusted him, but you’d said your long-term boyfriends name was Bradley. Bradley in the Navy. Perfect.
You had actually previously planned to meet said Bradley at the Hard Deck after work, and the day was coming to a close. You’d just ask him. You’d sit down, nurse a drink, and just… ask him. ‘Hey please can you help me shoo away a tiny little wisp of a man who can’t take no for an answer because he won’t listen to me but he’ll probably listen to you?’. Yeah. Just ask.
Heaving another sigh you called it a day. If you got there before Bradley you could always just pre-game to help your nerves.
The drive to the Hard Deck was uneventful, and as you stepped inside you spotted a familiar face, moustache and all, sitting by the bar and waving with a smile on his face. God he was handsome!
“Hiya sweetheart!” Bradley smiled, enveloping you in a warm, lingering hug. Resting your forehead against his broad chest, you inhaled his familiar scent. Your whole body seemed to relax at his mere presence, and he chuckled softly as he noticed.
“Had a long day, honey?” He smiled down at you and you nodded tiredly.
“You could say that,” the two of you sat down and ordered, you asked him how he’d been and you chatted for a little while before you figured there was no point in prolonging the torture.
“Look, Bradley,” your voice had turned serious, and he raised a brow as he gave you his undivided attention “I need your help,” he was starting to get a worried crease between his brows.
“What can I do?” He said softly, reaching over and laying his large, warm palm atop of yours.
“Um, well - I’ve told you about that co-worker that’s been annoying me?” Bradley snorted a laugh “The one who can’t take a hint? Yeah,” he smirked.
“Exactly the one. Well, there’s this charity dinner thing this weekend, and he’s asked me for months. And my first twenty rejections seem to have fallen on deaf ears,” you paused for a beat, gauging his reaction - and as you expected, Bradley was starting to look annoyed.
“And I might’ve told him I already have a date. In fact I went as far as telling him I was in a long-term relationship,” you confessed with a wince, and Bradley was smiling in amusement again.
“And are you?” He inquired, a hint of a laughter bubbling in his voice.
“Of course I’m not! I told him the reason he hadn’t seen my boyfriend ever picking me up or taking me to lunch was because he was deployed. And I might’ve said his name was Bradley” by now your friend was biting his lip to keep the rumbling laughter building in his chest from slipping out.
You powered on hastily “and I figured who better to ask than an actual navy pilot who’s name is Bradley? So uh, please?” You finished awkwardly, avoiding his gaze and staring intently at the bar top.
“Please what, sweetheart?” Bradley was smirking now. Ugh, god he was enjoying this. Why did you love him again? Oh, right because he was the actual equivalent of sunshine and warm, fuzzy feelings.
“Just pretend to be my date, okay? Please?” You were pleading now. Your voice needy and just a little whiney, needing him to understand how badly you wanted your co-worker off your back.
“Yeah, of course,” your head shot up, eyes twinkling.
“Really?” your voice sounded breathless with relief.
“Yeah, I’d love to meet this dude and get to tell him to kindly fuck off in person” Bradley shrugged with a smug smirk on his lips. You squealed slightly before throwing yourself at your friend, hanging on his neck as you thanked him over and over again. He chuckled and let his hand draw circles on your back.
What Bradley didn’t tell you was that he’d also love to show you what a great date, and boyfriend he could be. He’d wanted you for so long, but he was content with being your friend. He’d never want you to feel as if he only valued you if you were his girlfriend. But maybe he’d dare ask you on a real date if the fake one this weekend went good.
When Bradley showed up at your door, right on time, holding the most beautiful bouquet of flowers, tears burned in your eyes.
“Bradley, I’ve spent at least an hour on my makeup, you can’t make me cry by being this sweet!” You’d exclaimed as he smiled at you and gave you the flowers.
“Well, I’m supposed to be your boyfriend tonight, right? Isn’t that what boyfriends do, bring their beautiful girlfriends flowers?” He asked as he stepped inside your apartment as you tended to the bouquet.
“None of my previous ones has,” you shrugged. How was he already better than all your previous partners and he was only pretending? Ugh.
Bradley’s eyebrows shot up “sounds like you’ve dated shitty people,” you smiled at him and just replied that you must have.
Bradley was the perfect gentleman, holding his arm out for you to take as you walked to his car, he even opened the door and helped you get in (your dress, although gorgeous, didn’t seem to be made to climb into Broncos).
As you arrived at the dinner, Bradley turned to you “I forgot to ask. Am I allowed to kiss you tonight?” You sucked in a breath, only blinking a couple of times before you went for the safe option “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to of course - I can just tell people we’re not much for PDA” you rambled.
“But is it okay?” He said softly as you exited the car, his hand finding the small of your back as he led you into the large, beautifully decorated room.
“Yes,” you said breathlessly, not daring to look into those beautiful brown eyes of his.
To your dismay, you and Bradley had been seated at the same table as your co-worker, and whilst you were scowling and wincing at every stupid question he asked Bradley, Bradley was only smiling and smirking bigger and bigger - as his answers went from polite to borderline mocking him. Your co-worker seemed oblivious though, which only made Bradley chuckle softly underneath his breath. His hand hadn’t left yours all night, and there always seemed to be some part of him touching you. It was driving you wild in the most delicious way. Bradley would make an excellent real boyfriend.
As your co-worker turned to you, and started asking invasive and inappropriate questions about yours and Bradley’s “relationship”, Bradley decided he’d had enough and abruptly said,
“Sweetheart, I love this song. Would you like to dance with me, darling?” God, you could melt under his intense gaze. You’d barely answered with a breathless ‘yes please’ before Bradley whisked you away to the other side of the dance floor, his hands finding your waist as you swayed together.
“Thank you,” you needed him to know how thankful you were that he’d sacrificed his evening to listening to your dumbass co-worker. Bradley just smiled at you before twirling you with his one hand.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he murmured as he brought you closer. You could feel your heartbeat pick up, and perhaps it skipped a couple of beats at the close proximity of Bradley in a black suit with a bow tie.
“I could say the same for you. You look unbelievably handsome” you confessed, still not meeting his gaze as you licked your lips. Afraid you might confess something else if you were looking into his soulful eyes.
“Darling, please look at me” he whispered, raising his hand to tilt your chin upwards.
“I don’t think I want to only be your pretend boyfriend” he smiled, and your eyes widened. He leaned in, taking a beat before connecting his lips to yours.
“I’d love to be your real boyfriend, if you’ll have a navy pilot who’s deployed sometimes,” he joked as he broke away, thinking back to what you’d told your colleague about your relationship.
“Oh,” you gasped as he smiled at you “I think I’d love nothing more!”
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rolandtowen · 26 days
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what's up nerds, new fanfiction for yall!
I went on hiatus for three years and came back with Cherik brain rot. Read it on ao3 or under the cut. Chapter two will be up shortly.
It started innocently enough. A chess game, two glasses of scotch, what could go wrong?
The topic of conversation this night was the hypotheticals of their powers.
“Do you think you could control the iron in a person’s blood?” Charles moved one of his knights forward.
Erik hummed noncommittally, moving a pawn forward one space. “I think it’s possible. I haven’t truly had the opportunity to try it.”
“But, could you sense people by their blood perhaps? Not manipulate it, but recognize it the way I recognize minds?”
Erik smirked. “That seems like something I could try without a certain someone getting mad at me.”
Charles put up his hands in mock surrender. “Not saying I want you to mess with people’s veins, but it’d be good to know in case we run into anyone else with your mutation.”
Erik knocked a rook off the board with one of his bishops. “I’ve always wondered, do people have to be alive for you to get into their minds? Hank was telling me the other day that scientists think there can be electrical activity in the brain for a few minutes after death.”
Charles scoffed. “I don’t really make a habit of trying to commune with the dead, darling.” He moved his queen. “Check.”
“Well, what if you could tell those scientists for sure? Connect with someone before they die, and see what all that activity afterwards is about?” Erik moved his king.
Charles stiffened. “I find that highly unethical.” Charles slid his rook to protect his own king.
Erik glanced up at him, gauging his emotions as he moved his last knight. “Just speaking hypotheticals, liebling. Check, by the way.”
Charles made a wasteful move with another pawn, clearly uncomfortable with Erik’s line of thought. “I wouldn’t advise any telepath to stay connected with someone during their death. I did it only once, and never again.”
“What do you mean?” Erik thought that perhaps Charles had reached out to Raven before she died, perhaps to give her some comfort.
Charles’ eyes grew hard. “When you killed Shaw.”
Erik’s hand froze in the middle of moving his rook. Charles saw his confusion immediately.
“What, did you think I was able to keep him frozen and not be connected to him telepathically?”
Erik began to feel a sinking feeling in his gut. “I guess, I thought—I thought you let go when I..”
“When you started driving a coin through his head?” Charles forcefully moved his queen forward. “Had I done that, he could have killed you.”
“So you tied yourself to a dying man?!”
“It’s not my fault you were killing him! Fucking slowly, might I add.”
What?
“You felt him die? Why didn’t you tell me?” The chess game was forgotten.
“When would I have had the time? You shot me and left with my sister.”
Charles regretted his words instantly as Erik lowered his eyes. “To be honest, Erik, I wasn’t entirely sure what happened. It took me weeks to come to terms with the fact that I felt Shaw die. No other telepath has felt another’s death, at least to my knowledge.”
Erik was quiet for a long moment, before speaking in a whisper. “Show it to me.”
“What? No!” Charles sputtered. Erik still wasn’t meeting his eye, so Charles grabbed his chin and forced him to look at him. “Erik, I am not about to force the worst pain I’ve ever felt into your mind.”
“You aren’t forcing me,” Erik countered. “I’m asking you to show me.”
“Why? So you can make some demented penance? This is new level of masochism, even for you.” Erik’s jaw clenched, but his eyes betrayed his emotion. Charles softened his grip on Erik’s chin, scraping a thumb over his cheek. It was wet. “My love, I’ve already forgiven you, for all of it.” He wanted to run his fingers through Erik’s hair, talk him down from this ledge, and forget this whole conversation.
Erik caught Charles’ hand, holding onto it like an anchor. “How am I supposed to forgive myself, Charles? When I never even knew what I did?” Erik brought Charles’ fingers up to his temple. “Show me. You carry so much of my pain, let me carry some of yours for once.”
Charles’ hand was shaking, but Erik sent a mental message, inviting him in, begging—
Please.
Charles’ answer was agony.
***
Immediately, Erik was flooded with voices.
“Now, Charles!”
“Are you okay?”
“Moira, be quiet—I can only control this man for so long.”
Erik was in Charles’ head, in his memory, yet at the same time he was in his own head, as well as Shaw’s. He could see his past self, picking up his helmet.  
“Sorry, Charles.” His own voice, haunting him.
“Erik, please—be the better man—Erik, there will be no turning back!” And just like that, the connection between them was severed as his past self donned his helmet. This was where Erik’s own memory had previously ended their conversation, but now Erik could hear every word that Charles had screamed at him, willing him not kill Shaw.
He felt Charles’ fear when his past self revealed the coin. It was like the floor dropped out from underneath Charles. Chills ran down his spine. He wanted to run, to fight, but Charles knew that if he let go, Erik could die.
For the first time, Erik could also hear Shaw. For a man who presented himself as so superior, his final thoughts were frantic and pleading.
Xavier, please, unfreeze me. Please, I can help you. I have resources, anything you want—you can have it. Please don’t let me die like this—
But overriding Shaw’s babbling was Charles, still focused on Erik, still pleading with him, despite their severed connection.
“No, please, Erik, no.” Charles’ voice was quavering but his power remained strong. Erik could see through Shaw’s eyes as the coin approached, could feel Shaw screaming, but most of all could feel Charles begging to be heard by him. “Please, Erik.”
Erik finally understood the fear. It wasn’t that Charles was so afraid of Erik killing Shaw—Charles was afraid the Erik was going to kill him.
Charles thought he was about to die, but held onto Shaw anyway.
As the coin drew nearer and nearer to Shaw, Erik could hear Charles whimper one last “please”. And then the pain started. Charles could only scream, but even in his agony, Erik could still hear him mentally calling out for him.
Erik, Erik, please, it hurts. Erik could feel Shaw’s skin splitting and his skull cracking, could feel the shards of bone impaling nerves and skin. When Erik killed Shaw, it felt like no time at all passed between the moment the coin entered his head and passed out the other side, but to Charles—this was an eternity. Erik could pinpoint the exact time Shaw’s screams finally cut out, but Shaw was still feeling, which meant Charles was too. After what felt like years, Charles’ connection to Shaw cut out, and Charles’ mind went black.
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wishsparkleemoji · 8 months
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Sky iceberg tier 6: No hair
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Full iceberg
While making this iceberg, I asked some people who know more about Sky than I do if they could recommend things to add, and generally put things I’ve heard of but generally don’t know much about here, and sometimes I don’t have much to work with in terms of context. I trust they exist/happened, but if I say something confidently here or in the 5th tier preceded by “I’ve been told that…”, maybe take the finer details with a barrel of salt.
Not everything in sanctuary is canon: During the start of sanctuary, many skykids were skeptical on the canonicity/validity/existence of some cosmetics (like the sunglasses or orange flower cape, claiming they were too modern for a setting like Sky), and one of the TGC staff came onto the discord to say that, in seasons and events they like to break the fourth wall a bit to make everything more fun and they did this more than they ever had in sanctuary, and so not everything in sanc should be considered official canon (shoutout to “frutziechan” for giving me more context on this; I got almost no context from the aforementioned sky people and it felt very weird getting only two sentences about this, lol).
Eden beam: The thing about this, is this is one of the things is Sky we know least about. Why does the Eden crystal exude a beam of light? Where does it come from? Where does it go?
Blue Eden: An OOB that existed in Light Awaits, featuring the elders getting blasted away from the Eden crystal— similar to the final shattering quest. In fact, the elder models are the same (or so I’ve been told)!
Old opening - Isle: I’ve been told that, in Light Awaits (an earlier version?), the original opening for the game was your skykid, lying amidst a group of other, dead skykids.
Skykids have no teeth: Ok. I have no idea where this is from. But I trust the aforementioned Sky people that this is in fact confirmed from somewhere.
One star in starlight desert brighter than the rest: Gonna be honest I’m not sure where this should be placed, I just put it at the bottom since I’ve never seen anyone talk about it. If you look closely at the sky in the starlight desert, you can see a star ever so slightly different from the rest— it has a different shape, it spins, and it shares the same shine that comes off of winged light.
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lordkryze · 2 months
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No Italian lessons today. But! I’m almost 22 and I always (sometimes) think that my life is over and it’s too late to start over. I was only 16 when graduated from high school and had to choose what discipline I will be studying at the university. Last year I got my first bachelor’s degree and now I will be applying for a bachelor's program again (the reason is I don’t like my major). Yes, at the age of 22 (that’s considered late in my country). I’m exhausted. It’s like everything I’ve learned and experienced means nothing now. My long-term anxiety is no help.
So, this is my story of fighting back against anxiety (keep in mind, if that works for me doesn’t mean it works for you. i’m not a doctor, it’s just a blog)
1. I take medicines (I won’t share the name of it) which were prescribed by my doctor. They help me to relax and keep going.
2. I’ve scrolled and blocked every “how i became the president of the world at the age of 18” related video. To be honest those videos do not inspire me. And also don’t believe everything you see online.
3. I accepted the fact that not everything I do will give me opportunities. I learn Italian because I’m planning on studying abroad? Yes. I also play video games just because I enjoy it? Yes. I need balance. I can’t be productive 24/7. It. Is. Not. Possible.
4. When I worked in Sweden, I started to believe in fate. I know it sounds like shifting responsibility, but it makes it easier for me to accept that not everything in the world depends on me. I’ve done everything I could, now I just wait and hope.
5. I walk. I walk a lot. I’m very fond of walking.
6. I try not to have expectations so as not to be upset when they don't come true. And they almost never come true, because the world in my head is different from the real world.
7. I started taking care of my physical health, I used to be a pro dancer, so it always seemed important to me.
8. The hardest thing for me to accept. Some have more privileges, some less. That’s life. It’s easier to get accepted in an European university having a EU passport, and many other examples. But I have to do it sooner or later. (And of course I understand that I am more privileged than someone else).
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sourgreenlupin · 8 months
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thinking about sirius confessing to remus, but they get into a fight before he has the chance. (happy ending dw)
sirius had been acting weird for the past week, he had the realisation that he felt differently towards remus than he did towards james or peter. he felt an entirely different form of love for remus.
sirius had been avoiding remus at every opportunity. if remus asked, he was now enthralled by his studies.
every time they were in a room alone, sirius made up some bullshit excuse to leave. and remus started to believe it was his fault.
it took james pulling sirius aside and lecturing him to finally knock sense into him.
‘sirius, i don’t know what your problem with moony is. but you need to pull it together. i’ve had enough of remus crying because you won’t even look at him. if he did something wrong, tell him. but you can’t keep doing this.’
‘what! he didn’t do anything! nononono. this was all me. he’s perfectly fine!’ sirius couldn’t believe remus was taking this out on himself.
‘then fucking talk to him! fix things! im tired of having to pretend nothing is different. deal with it.’ and james left sirius alone, to spiral on the staircase.
when sirius finally pulled himself together, he decided to talk to remus at that very moment. he knew what he wanted, and if avoiding him was hurting remus, then merlin was he going to fix that.
sirius finds remus in the common room, and for the first time in a while, he doesn’t immediately hatch an escape plan.
‘remus?’
‘yeah, i know. you’ve got homework to do. bye.’
‘what? wait, that’s fair. but, actually, i wanted to talk?’ sirius knew this wasn’t off to a great start.
‘after just ignoring me for a full week? funny.’ while the hostility was deserved, it still stung sirius.
‘remus i’m sorry. i just- i had to figure things out. but im ready now. and i would prefer if we didn’t fight about this.’
‘sirius, i’m not sure if you’ve realised, but fighting is all we know how to do! you ignored me without a single hint as to why for an entire week! things aren’t just immediately going to be okay.’
‘if you would shut the fuck up for a second. im trying to apologise. let me.’
‘why should i? huh? every time your emotions run haywire you throw me to the side! you expect me to cater to your every thought without ever telling me anything! i’ve tried and tried to be there for you, and you never let me!’
‘remus-‘
‘no! sirius, im so tired of playing this game. one minute you’re all over me, and the next we’re barely even friends. figure it out.’
‘if you would let me fucking talk. i did figure it out. i spent all week figuring shit out.’
‘sorry. i just- i have a full week of tears and anger to get out.’
‘i understand. and i probably deserve it,’ there’s a beat of silence, remus finally giving sirius the room to talk, but sirius can’t get it out, ‘actually, i think it might be easier for me to say it if we’re yelling at each other.’
‘oh, do you want me to keep going? i can. just interrupt when you’re ready?’
‘awe, how sweet of you. yes, please.’
‘you pull this shit once a fucking month at this point, then come crawling back to me, expecting things to be exactly how they were-‘
the perfect moment.
‘well, this time, i don’t want things to be how they were!’
they both go silent. the room is suffocating sirius. it’s out there. open for interpretation.
finally, remus speaks, ‘padfoot? what do you mean?’
‘i spent the last week trying to come to terms with the fact that i’m in love with you, moony.’
neither boy is breathing. remus’ brows knit together. is this just a joke? is sirius trying to fuck with his feelings? is that why he ignored him? did he find out somehow?
‘if you don’t feel the same remus, it’s really okay, i just couldn’t have you beating yourself up about me being stupid. i just- i couldn’t look at you without wanting you.’ sirius feels vulnerable. and remus can see it in his stance. he’s being truthful.
there’s more silence. remus is analysing every twitch of sirius’ muscles.
and sirius breaks it again, ‘and if this is like a dealbreaker i understand. if you don’t want to be friends i get it. or we can pretend this never happened.’ he’s sweating at this point. why won’t remus just say something.
‘i would hate to stay friends after this.’ but remus is smiling. those are extremely contradicting actions.
‘remus- i don’t- i don’t understand.’
remus stands up, and makes his way over to sirius, ‘i don’t want to be friends. i haven’t wanted to be friends for a long time,’ and then his hand is in sirius’ hair and the other is on his jaw and his eyes are flittering down to sirius’ lips merlin, hes pretty, ‘is this okay?’
‘fucking obviously,’ and sirius is crashing forward and his arms are wrapped around remus and pulling him in closerclosercloser. tongues and teeth and gasping inhales of wantneedplease.
when they finally pull apart, sirius’ arms stay wrapped around moony, any distance away is too far now.
‘just as good as i imagined,’ sirius pants out.
‘is that so? i’ve gotta say, you’ve exceeded expectations.’ remus closes his eyes, and leans his forehead against sirius’.
‘so, uh, no longer friends?’
‘i’d really prefer if we weren’t, padfoot.’
‘kiss me again?’
‘my pleasure.’
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pelorsdyke · 18 days
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making a new pinned post to neaten up my fic links! my name is k, i love writing wlw ships, and ill be so real with you rn a lot of them are rarepairs. find me here on ao3. my tumblr fic tag is here, and I often post wip peeks for tag games.
some ships I’ve written once or twice include: henren (911 abc), spemily (pll), buffy x tara (btvs), jackienat (yellowjackets), donnajoey (the west wing), maggie x sophie (leverage), and wayhaught (wynonna earp). I also wrote a lot of ronance (stranger things) during the s4 era.
marjan marwani & nancy gillian (911 lone star):
who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me (test kitchen au)
and love isn’t a fact, it’s a hunch at first. (paul helps marjan come to terms with her feelings for nancy)
and your keys, your ring of keys (marjan starts to realize some things about herself, with the help of an oc. lesbian marjan)
underneath your hands I become poetry (some celebratory sex after tommy announces nancy will take over as interim captain while she’s away. inspired by the bts pic where nancy appears to be wearing a name tag that says captain gillian)
your essence is the ink in the word forever (nancy has tattoos. marjan notices.)
so swing your hips and do a little dip (nancy, marjan, and tarlos go to a gay bar)
I will do my best to get it right (nancy and marjan’s first anniversary plans go awry)
I’m gonna love you for a long time (marjan’s lesbian flag hijab, but also just like. 1k words of established fluff)
I’ve been under scrutiny (you handle it beautifully) (marjan and nancy are actors on the firefighter show austin 126. nancy may have a tiny baby crush)
everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it (post-canon, nancy thinks about moving on. it’s kind of terrifying.)
lucy tara & kate whistler (ncis: hawai’i):
the room is empty, and the window is open (a spiderwoman lucy au, the tumblr tag for the series is here)
february, the thirteenth (kacy celebrates valentines day early, as per lucy’s way of handling holidays)
blue scooby-doo fruit snacks and unrequited love, probably (high school au kacy flirting)
sit down, breathe, and just listen (post-3.04, kacy talks about marriage and promises)
in response, your glorious laughter (a snapshot of a sweet married kacy early morning)
hear the desert wind roll by (kacy first meeting cowboy au, pwp)
one single thread of gold tied me to you (kai buys lucy a virtual meet-and-greet with her celebrity crush, kate whistler. it turns out they may be a little more familiar with each other than lucy’s remembering.)
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Text
Part 3
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jake x reader
warnings: tension, angst, fluff, slow burn, eventual 18+
word count: 1.5k
summary: You move into a new apartment, with an unexpectedly attractive neighbor.
notes: Hey Friends, here's part 3. This might be the last chapter of this for a hot bit. Starting this off as my first fic has been super fun BUT it also gave me the confidence to actually write some other pieces I've had in the back of my head for a while. So forgive me for this being short, but I'll have something a little longer out by the end of the week!! All my Love, MM
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The only annoying thing about your new home was the cabinets. You had plenty of storage space, that wasn’t the problem. It was the fact that they went all the way up to the ceiling. Unless you were a giant, no person could reach the top shelf without a stepladder and that was something that you didn’t own yet. 
You had been doing dishes, trying to put things in their rightful place, when remembered you needed to climb on the counter to put away some glasses. You had done this many times now, too many to count, but this time it was a mistake. You still hadn’t gotten around to getting a step ladder, and up until now it hadn’t mattered. 
The next thing you knew you were laying on the floor holding your elbow you heard him. Sprinting up the back stairs and banging on your door.
“Y/N ARE YOU OKAY?” He sounded frantic as the doorknob rattled in his hand. He continued to bang trying to get in. You can only imagine what he thought you had done. The sickening crashing sound that echoed through the duplex was surely amplified a floor down. 
The last time you had seen him was the 4th of July. You two had gown to the beach for the day, and ended up spending the evening playing board games until the fireworks started. Forgoing the walk back to the beach to watch the fireworks, the two of you headed out to your balcony. In basically every direction people were setting off fireworks. Down the street, in the neighborhood over, and out towards the beach where you two had spent your day, it had been nice, cordial, friendly. But that was all, you hadn’t seen him since, both busy with work and life. 
You groaned and slowly got up. Jake continued to bang on your door, practically trying to break it in, as you tottered over cradling your elbow and unlocking the deadbolt. Before you could even reach for the handle, it flew open, knocking you back again. Strong hands shot out to catch you and held onto either side of your shoulders. He looked scared as he scanned over your body, he stopped on your hand still holding your elbow, blood now slowly starting to drip down your arm.
“What the fuck did you do?” he whispered. He gently pushed you back into your apartment and walked you to your bathroom, where he sat you down on the counter. “Damn honey, you really did a number on yourself,” 
“Jake please” you winced, tears welling in your eyes. You brearly registered the term of endearment through the seething pain in your arm.
He looked you over again, cursing under his breath as he threw open your bathroom cabinets, pulling out your first aid kit and ruffling around for anything else he might need. “Sshshsh I’ve found it. Come on let me see the damage”. 
You gingerly take your hand off the gash on your arm. Jake stretches out your arm gently to get a better look, quickly opening your kit and pulling out antibacterial and bandages. Shifting things around, he got the antibacterial ointment unscrewed and the bandage ready, “you’re going to hate me for a second. Hold still”.
He reaches towards you, fingers brushing against your upper thigh as he gets a better angle on your wound. You wince, shifting slightly, causing him to grab onto your arm, just enough to keep you in place. He stroked your arm with his thumb as he grabbed a wet washcloth. Humming to himself as he does. To keep you or him calm, you don’t know. You hiss through your teeth as the sting of the soap hits your cuts. “Sorry! Sorry! Just a second” he soothed as he continues dabbing away any excess glass and germs. “Shit y/n, there’s glass everywhere,” He squattes back down under the counter, searching to find tweezers. With his eyes at your knees, all you could think about was him. His breath hit the outside of your thigh as he searched, for what felt like eons. He finally pops back up brandishing a pair of tweezers and wiggling his eyebrows. “Ta-da,” you couldn’t tell if he was truly calm about the situation before him or just trying to get you to calm down, but either way, it was working.  
“You’re doing great y/n,” 
Pluck, 
“Thankfully we don’t need to drive you to the hospital,” 
Wince, 
“shit, sorry. but these cuts are pretty bad.” 
Pluck, 
“We’ll need to keep an eye on them for the next couple of days. Okay all done” 
Jake stands back up, resting a hand on either one of your knees, squeezing lightly. “There ya go, see not so bad!” His eyes hold yours, searching to make sure you’re good. He breathes out, pushing the air between his teeth, tickling your nose. You scrunch your face a little, eliciting a little chuckle. 
“You good to keep going” He tilts his head to this side. You nod, lost for words. Worried you might start crying, and worried you might say something you couldn’t take back. Ever since you last saw him you felt a small pull. Like a sting was connected between you two that you couldn’t quite explain. Sometimes you’d feel it, sometimes you wouldn’t. Tugging, tugging, pulling you towards him. But that would just make life complicated, and you knew it. Thank god you only lived in the same building as the guy and not the same apartment, because that would have been almost impossible for you to bear. 
Jake continues on with the bandages, lowering himself again to get a better angle of the cut and now bruise developing on your arm. 
Now that he was so close to you, you were better able to study his face. Browse knit together in concentration, his eyes were a beautiful chocolate brown. His cheekbones sat high on his face and perfectly complimented the strong angle of his nose. His bottom lip was larger than his top, but he had the best cupids bow you’d ever seen, and it looked like he hadn’t shaven for a couple of days as his mustache threatened to be visible on his upper lip.
“You’re staring” Jake cut through the silence, looking into your eyes for a second. “Am I at least distracting you from the pain?” He smirked as he continued patching you up. 
“Sorry” is all you managed, as you try desperately to look anywhere else in your tiny bathroom except for him. “I was just. Your eyes have gold in them” you flinched. God what a stupid thing to say. But surprisingly to you, Jake just chuckled and continued working on your arm. 
“So, how’d you manage to break a glass on the side of your arm? Normally when I’m doing dishes I only have the opportunity to cut my fingers” Jake crooked an eyebrow, placing the bandage on your freshly cleaned wound and taking a step back. He looked you over, like a parent, making sure nothing on their child was out of place. 
“I was actually trying to put my dishes away, not clean them.” Was all you could manage as his eyes continued to bore holes into you. Jake looked quizzically at you, then craned his neck to look into the kitchen. 
“How on gods green earth were you putting dishes away if you don’t have a step ladder?” He looked disapprovingly back at you, “You know what, never mind, I don’t want to know. How about, let’s only use the shelves we can reach until you have a safer way to put things away, hmm?” His gaze softened as he reached out to squeeze your knees. You nodded, assuring him that you would be safer next time. “Great.” Jake reached forward again grabbing the sides of your head and moving it around “You sure ya didn’t dump your head on the way down? It sounded like a fucking herd of elephants from downstairs”. 
“No, really I’m fine!” You insist as you gently remove his hands “Really. Thank you for your help, but I promise I’m okay” You give him your best reassuring simple, but Jake’s not buying it. You try again “I promise I won’t stand on my counter to put away dishes again. I’ll go buy a step ladder tomorrow and I’ll go relax for the rest of the night” You raise your eyebrows waiting for him to respond, hoping that your promise is good enough to be dismissed by your impromptu doctor. 
“You were standing… on the counter… Good lord. Okay! Good enough for me. Let’s get you down” And in one quick motion, Jake grabbed onto either side of your waist, gently picking you up off the counter and setting you back down on your feet. “Okay, well you promise you’re good?” 
“Yes, I swear” you raise your left hand in a mocking motion and stick your right hand over your heart “I swear I’m fine and I won’t make any more loud noises,”
“Or get hurt”
“Or get hurt for the rest of the night”
“Good enough for me!” He beamed. “Please just, let me know if you need anything. I’m just chilling downstairs, so like, literally anything. Shoot me a text”
“Will do” you smiled at him as he walked out your back door. 
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