#ignore the eagle emoji

[thewickerking]

YOU change posts and things about women to being about men instead. I (BETTER THAN YOU) can make anything about my mother. We are not the same. oh dads always do x? relatable Dad™️ experience? Dad music? WRONG ‼️ MY MOTHER🦅‼️ <- same tone as a ur mom joke

[phoebastria-albatrus]

rahhhhh freedom

[lazygirldoesfics]

drunk confession [1/7]

how i imagine each of the bistro huddy guys would drunkenly confess their feelings for you

starting with nico !!

Nicole plops into the passenger seat of your old sedan, heaving a sigh. "Thanks for picking me up last minute."

"No worries, you're on my way anyway. What happened to Bridgette?"

"She fucking bailed." You watch as Nicole studies herself in the visor mirror. She picks at her mascara, eyes sparking with outrage as she continues, "Her bum ass boyfriend told her she 'couldn't come', that it's not 'his scene' so it'd be 'disrespectful' if she goes to another guy's birthday party without him. Like fucking grow up."

"Unbelievable," you groan, commiserating.

"I don't know why she stays with him," Nicole says smacking the visor back into place before she turns to you. Her lips curl upwards, deviously. "Which means we have to put in the work tonight to make sure she feels every bit of FOMO and gets pissed at that piece of shit so I'm not the only one seething about it." Nicole pulls out her phone, angling the camera to get both of you in the shot, and snaps a picture when you're wearing matching frowns. She texts it to Bridgette as you shift the car into gear and take off.

"Of course he picks a spot with absolutely no fucking parking," Nicole complains as you make your way to the club. The click clack of your heels echoes every inch of road you had to drive down until you finally found a place to park. Nicole keeps having to pull her dress down, grumbling each time she wrangles the hem back into it's place. You suppress a smile, amused by her grumpiness, knowing fully well that if she didn't want to be here she wouldn't have put in the effort to show up.

"It's gonna be fun," you cheer. "He's been talking up this spot all week."

Nicole stops dead, glancing down at you with eyes bearing just a hint of judgement. "It's Nico. I don't exactly trust his idea of a great spot. I'm prepared for sexual harassment and well drinks that taste like diesel." You shove her playfully with your elbow and that at least rises a smile out of her. "All I'm saying is I better get extra fries all week for coming to this. Like they better be hot and waiting as soon as I clock in."

"Agreed," you laugh.

There's a line out the door that emits more cursing from Nicole, but you make the best of it by sending selfies to Bridgette while you wait. She responds to each one almost instantly, hearting the messages or sending crying emojis. You frown when Nicole suggests this means Bridgette's probably watching reruns of Real Housewives by herself, while her boyfriend ignores her.

When it's your turn to be inspected by the bouncer, you give him your best smile. He barely glances at you before waving you passed the threshold. Stepping beyond the entrance door, you become engulfed by the change in atmosphere. Sweat slick air clings to you, fog from the DJ booth hazes your vision and the thrum of the bass pulsates through to your core. An air of cloying desperation sinks into your skin while your heels stick to the grime covered floor.

Nicole coughs next to you, disdain barely concealed. Eagle-eyed, you spot a guy stumbling towards your direction, beer sloshing onto the floor in his wake. Gently, you steer Nicole to the left, just beyond the drunken splash zone, saving her from a drenching.

That man has no idea of the life debt he owes you.

Nicole clenches her eye shut, breathing deeply. "Okay. Okay! I'm aligning my energy. I am here." Her eyes snap open and she brushes her long blond tendril back. "Let's go kill this shit."

She uses her height to scan the crowd and you're happy to watch from your shorter vantage point. "I see them." Nicole strides through the crowd towards the left side of the dance floor and you follow the path she carves. Still, she checks behind her every so often to make sure she hasn't lost you.

At last you make it through the crowd, rewarded with the sight of familiar faces. Brad turns his attention from the bar to wave a greeting, then signals back to the bartender to add two more drinks to his order. Ruby toasts her beer to you with a barely perceptible nod. Joey, perched at the edge of a black plastic bar stool, rubs at his temples. "This music is fucking awful."

"Oh, don't be such a boomer, Joey," Nicole teases, happy to abandon her own irritability if it means she gets to rub Joey's face in his. He mouths for her to shut up and Nicole responds by turning around to snap a selfie. She winks at you after sending the photo off to Bridgette, a secret between the two of you that she actually agrees with Joey more than he'll ever know. You choke down a laugh as you sit next to Ruby, letting Nicole sidle up to Brad and grab the two drinks he ordered for you both.

"Where's the birthday boy?" you ask and Ruby nods towards the dance floor. It's easy to spot Nico with his signature red bandana, though you don't know the cute blond girl he's dancing with. The burn of a blush creeps up your neck as you linger on Nico's hand clutching at the girl's side, ashamed that you notice the way his eyes rake down her figure. Besides him is Pickles, bouncing around like a pinball and dancing, presumably, with himself. That, at least, makes you smile.

"Bottoms up!" Nicole announces, handing a shot off to you. Her and Ruby share a terse smile. You wish they'd get along better, they are so incredibly alike.

You down the shot, letting the warm burn fill you. "Next one's on me!" you say, putting the glass down on the table and standing. "Anyone gonna dance?"

Ruby stills and Nicole proclaims she's not ready, turning back towards the bar to get another drink. Brad scans the crowd, though his eyes seem to trail after Nicole as she flirts with the bartender.

"Joey?"

The chef shakes his head. "Sorry, sunshine, as soon as this beer's done I'm out of here." He shakes his half full bottle of Coors at you. You put your hands on your hips, feigning appall. "You're all boring." With that, you jump into the crowd next to Pickles and bump your hip into his in time with the music.

"Y/N!!!" Pickles beams, flinging his arms around you and squeezing. "I'm so happy you're here!"

You squeeze Pickles just as hard, then take his hand to let him twirl you around. As you spin your eyes lock with Nico's, unaware that he'd even noticed you were here. You smile at him over Pickles' shoulder, and his lips pull into that lazy half-grin he sometimes gives you from behind the line. The blond he is with is lightning fast though, putting her hands on either side of his face to pull his focus back to her.

Your chest tightens, but the music changes to a song with a fast bass that dissolves the knots forming. You grab onto Pickles' hands and you jump together while sing-screaming the lyrics at each other. This goes on for awhile, the songs bleeding into each other, each one hyping you and Pickles up more and more.

The latest song begins to fade and Pickles leans into you, panting. "I need water."

You nod in agreement, fanning yourself with the neck of your shirt. Hands entwined, Pickles pulls you off the dance floor. Ruby and Joey are exactly where you'd left them, a few more beer bottles discarded around the table and hands waving wildly as they argue about something. Nicole stands a few feet away, back leisurely pressed against the bar. She's making exaggerated expressions over her espresso martini glass. You follow her eye line as you press up to the bar next to her and realize she is silently judging Brad's dance partner. Brad's eyebrows react back to her, and though not a word passes either of their lips, they are having a full blown conversation. Gracefully, Brad untangles himself from the girl, walking back over to Nicole in defeat. "I didn't think she was that bad."

"I didn't say a word," Nicole responds, smugly.

Barely hiding a smirk as the bartender approaches, you ask for two waters, handing a cup over to Pickles when they're given to you. The song changes just as the water hits your lips. The familiar opening bars to a Queen song fills the club. You turn to Pickles, eyes meeting each other in pure delight and the water cups are immediately discarded. "Oh we're ALL dancing to this one!" You proclaim, latching onto Nicole and Brad's wrists. You pull them forward, pushing them to follow Pickles onto the floor before you turn on Ruby and Joey. "You guys too, let's go! C'mon Joseph!" Ruby gets up, feigning reluctance as she lets you prod her along while you pull Joey by the crook of his elbow onto the floor with you.

You meet the others just in time to hear the girl Nico had been dancing with pout over the song being lame. She leaves when she realizes Nico's attention is totally lost for the moment. The song may not be her thing, but it also probably didn't help the way Pickles was jumping on top of Nico with abandon, holding absolutely no regard for her attempt to continue grinding. You all surround Nico, singing at the top of your lungs and jostling him in the middle of your mini mosh pit. Even Joey belts out a few words and plays air drums along with Nico's air guitar. Nicole catches it all on video, instantly sending it to Bridgette.

"Alright, alright. I'm outta here," Joey says as the song ends, waving his hands in front of his chest when you groan in protest. He pulls Nico in for an overly aggressive hug and slap on the back. "And don't any of yous be late tomorrow. I'm not dealing with a Terry temper tantrum." A chorus of 'bye Joey' and eye rolls reply to him.

"I'm heading out too. Happy Birthday," Ruby adds, a near smile hinting at her lips before following her boss towards the exit.

"Need. Water." Pickles pants again and heads back to the bar, just as the blond girl re-enters and takes up Pickles' spot next to Nico. Nicole and Brad, who have somehow gotten into an argument about how to make a proper gin martini, are so lost in their own bickering that they haven't noticed the crowd jostling around them. You stand awkwardly next to them, not wanting to get involved but feeling like you can't exactly escape either. Holding your arms across your chest, you sway uncertainly.

A hand find yours, and you look over your shoulder to see Nico tugging you back towards him. "It's not too early to cash in on a birthday dance is it?" He smiles at you in that aloof way, his eyes focusing in on you. A question bubbles on your tongue, wanting to know where the blond went but you decide you'd rather not know. "No, not too early. Right on time, I think," you smile back, fitting your arms around his neck.

His left hand is soft against your lower back, fingers guiding you to sway back and forth in time with the music. You're moving slow, the beat lost as you can feel the inches between you and Nico closing. The club is nothing but Nico's dark eyes swallowing you, the weight of his arms pulling around you until you're poised to meld together. You can't take the heat of Nico's eyes on you anymore so you hide against his collarbone, eyes shutting and letting the smell of earth and smoke on his shirt collar encompass your whole world. You're not sure if the thrumming you feel is the bass or your own heart, if you're still dancing or just standing still wrapped up in Nico's arms.

Suddenly you're knocked backwards, stumbling over your own feet until you hit up against someone. "Hey!" a voice shouts, indignant and you mumble an apology as you try to find reality again. "What the fuck, man," Nico's saying, head turning to glare at the man who'd shoved him and caused you to nearly fall on your ass. The guy is standing over him, absolutely beaming. When Nico finally sees him, he starts laughing. "Oh! Yo, I almost fucked you up man!" The two start shoving each other, albeit playfully, as more guys surround Nico, shouldering anyone, including you, out of the way to land punches and smacks on Nico's shoulder and stomach.

You feel disoriented, discarded even, as you slowly find your way back to the edge of the dance floor. You find the others there, all looking towards the sea of newcomers that have swallowed Nico. "Who are those guys?" you ask, hating how defeated your voice sounds.

"I think they used to work with Nico at Waffle House, at least some of them did," Pickles informs you. You try not to watch him assess you, ignoring the slight frown he wears as he turns to the bar to order another water. You drink it slowly when he hands it to you, watching the amorphous blob of raucous men completely take over the dance floor.

"And that's my cue to leave," Nicole asserts. "Ready?" she looks at you expectantly.

You should leave. You know this in the way you feel cold and unsure and slightly humiliated but you can't ignore that something just opened up between you and Nico. You're not quite ready to leave whatever that is behind yet.

"I'll drive you home," Brad interjects, saving you from having to say anything at all. You're not sure if he could sense your hesitation or if he was just looking for an opening of his own, but you're grateful nonetheless. As long as Nicole agrees.

Her eyes flit to Brad, assessing him with the quickness of a hummingbird's wings. "Let's go then," she says as if it's a challenge, daring Brad to follow through on something unspoken. You watch them disappear, Brad's hand hovering at the small of Nicole's back as she leads them through the crowd.

Next to you, Pickles rifles through his front jean pocket. He pulls out a bag of Skittles, pours some into his hands and offers them to you. "You don't have to stay for me you know," he chirps, "I told Nico I'd drive him home so I'm here for the long run."

You shove the Skittles into your mouth, the candy sticking to your teeth. You look towards the dance floor, watching the group of men you don't know chatting up different girls and pointing them towards Nico. You fix a smile on your face for Pickles. "I'm having too much fun to leave."

Pickles nods, giving you a look that's somewhere between skepticism and pity. You sigh, letting your shoulders sag and the pit in your stomach swallow you down with its full weight before putting your hand back out for Pickles to fill with more candy. Instead you feel a warm weight in your hand. You look up to see Nico, hand wrapping around yours. "You're still here," he's beaming at you, though his eyes are so glassy you're not sure how he can even see you clearly.

"Yeah," you answer softly, wishing you could stop the smile that's spreading from cheek to cheek.

"I think you need water," Pickles says after assessing Nico's wobbly stance, excusing himself from the table. Nico's still standing over you, hand in yours. "Our dance got interrupted," he says, his signature lazy laugh chasing after his words. He starts to move to the music that's playing, eyes slowly shutting. A heavy arm slams into his shoulder, and in the startle Nico slips his hand away from yours.

"You gonna introduce me?" It's the same guy that shoved into Nico while you two were dancing. His eyes waggle towards you in a way that makes you recoil.

"Oh uh, Carmine this is--"

He interrupts before Nico can finish. "No, let me guess. Nicole, right? Or are you Amber?"

You frown. "Neither. Actually, you just missed Nicole."

"Damn!" Carmine snaps his finger. "I really wanted to see the hottie my boy won't shut up about it."

"Bro," Nico says, with what could be a glare if his eyes were alert at all.

"Nah, I mean, you're cute too, don't get me wrong. What's your name sweetheart?"

"I'm nobody," you answer, hastily. "And I'm leaving so…have a good night. It was nice to meet you." You stand, ignoring the hushed way Nico tries to stall you. You put a hand on his shoulder to stop his fretting. "Happy birthday, Nico." You lean in, landing a soft, barely there kiss to his cheek. Eyes glued to the exit sign, you walk as fast as you can towards it before you completely lose your composure. You even ignore Pickles when he calls your name, pretending not to hear the way he asks Nico what happened to make you run off.

You look back at the dance floor quickly, noticing Nico's red bandana bob and sway in the crowd. You leave before it gets too close. The cold air outside hits you in the face like a brick, clearing your senses and leaving you with a weird empty feeling. Like you had something in the palm of your hand but it's slipped through your fingers. You walk a few feet, until the music is no longer drumming in your ears, and lean against the wall of a closed Chinese takeout. Your hands brace against your knees and you let yourself breathe. You can feel tears start to prick at your eyes but you're too drained to fight them off. You can't help but wonder what the hell that was all about. Your feelings for Nico aren't entirely a secret to anyone, certainly not to yourself, though you hope you've always held your composure well enough. You're always hiding your blushing cheeks when he flirts and batting away Nicole and Amber's teasing when they catch you smiling to yourself after leaving the kitchen. But you always held it arm's length, knowing it was all just part of the fun with Nico. It can't ever be serious with him, it just can't be.

"Y/N."

His voice is like a rasps against the wind. You brush your eyes quickly, straightening up as Nico jogs haphazardly towards you.

"Why'd you leave so fast?" he says, breathing heavy as he catches up to you.

"Sorry, yeah, I um, I didn't realize how late it was," you lie.

"Are you mad or somethin'?"

You shake your head as he contemplates you. Eventually he leans against the wall next to you, pulling his vape out for a long pull, as if that's going to help him breathe any easier.

You shrug one shoulder up. "I didn't want to overstay my welcome, is all," you admit quietly, trying to escape the track of his eyes on you. His lids are heavy almost closing as he rests his head back against the wall, yet he won't take his eyes off you. "Not possible for you to do that."

"I have to go, Nico." You say gently.

"Don't." Nico says, hand finding yours again. Entwining your fingers together, Nico tugs you towards him and you oblige, leaning against your side so you're facing him. His head falls into the crook of your neck and you can feel him nuzzling against the sensitive skin there.

"Nico," you protest without any real harshness or edge to your tone. Just a sadness that you can't mask the way you normally would.

"Stay," he pleads, hand trailing down your back. "Everyone else can leave, if it means you'll stay." His words murmur against your skin. Lips press against the side of your neck so gentle you're not sure you really feel anything at all. You sigh as he moves further up, letting him land soft little kisses up your neck to the nape of your ear. He nips at your lobe and that's when you have to push him away.

"Nico," you say firmly, putting a hand against his chest to make distance. He smirks as his head lolls back against the brick wall.

"C'mon baby," his hand hooks around your wrist, thumb running gentle circles. "I know you want me."

Your heart drops, sinking into the deepest pit of your stomach. You wretch away from him. "Don't be an asshole."

Nico's bloodshot eyes widen and he shakes his head as he stumbles forward trying to cling onto you again. "No, no, no. I want it too. YOU, I mean, I want YOU too."

He's holding onto your wrists, knees slightly bent as he sways in the non-existent wind. You're afraid he's going to fall down and you won't have the strength to pick him up so you walk him back towards the wall so he can lean against it. You try to pull your hand from him but he just holds on even tighter. "It's your birthday, you're drunk and you're just trying to get laid. There's a million girls in that club that would be happy to go home with you. Please don't do this to me, Nico. It's not fair. "

"They're not you. I don't want them."

"You don't want me either!" you laugh, incredulously.

Nico's mouth drops open, eyebrows shooting straight up as if they're going to hide in his bandana. "You're all I want!" You don't know how to respond to that. You stare back towards the club hoping Pickles or Carmine or someone will appear and come take him away so you can just go home and forget this entire night happened.

"I like you SO much," Nico confesses, eyes still wide and words slurring together. "Like, I haven't even quit once since you started working. Every time I get to see you it makes all the like bullshit worth it. I know it's kinda crazy, you and me. You deserve a lot better."

All the wind knocks out of you. You try to process what Nico is saying, justify it against the way his eyes glaze over with alcohol and weed. "You're drunk," you say again, an explanation.

"Yeah," he smiles, lopsided. "No way I'd ever tell you this shit if I wasn't."

And though his eyes are barely open there's a sincerity to his words. "You know," he continues, "I've seen our future, if we like, try this. It's all good baby, just me and you forever. 'Till the four kids of course."

"Four?" you laugh,"That seems like a lot."

"Okay maybe two, and a cat named Lucy."

"I'd like a cat," you smile, leaning against him as Nico wraps his arms around your waist. You can feel the stretch of his smile against your cheek as he spreads kisses across your face. He moves closer to your mouth and you can feel his lips reach out for yours. You catch his head between your palms. "Not while you're drunk," you reprimand gently.

"That's fair. I can fuck with that," Nico smiles. "Tomorrow then. I'm taking out for breakfast before our shift and I'mma kiss the shit out of you."

"Sure," you smile back. "IF you remember any of this."

"Oh, baby, I'll never forget it."

Nico grabs you, picking you up off the ground as he twirls you just slightly. You're a little afraid you're both going to fall and tumble to the ground but he makes it around a little half circle before setting you back down. You throw your arms around his neck, holding him close as he nuzzles deep against your cheek.

Your phone pings, notifying you of a text. You pull it out from your purse, swiping it open while Nico continues to nestle into you. It's from Nicole, a picture of she took of you and Nico dancing. In it you're pressed against him, face hidden in his collar as he looks down on you with an expression of pure serenity. Looking at it you can't help the butterflies that swarm within you. You hold Nico even tighter, hiding your big, wide grin against his hair.

[rocknrollsalad]

rating: t cw: a vaguely alluded to santa kink? tags: modern au, teacher steve, tiktok fic word count: 910

written for @steddiemas prompt "santa" it was also written for the same prompt for steddie holiday drabbles but that was yesterday and unfortunately I got too sick to finish it

It’s not unlike Eddie to jump on live when he’s bored. Usually, it’s more sitting with him as he does something, a digital parallel play with the nation’s favorite metal singer. Or, at least, Indiana’s favorite metal singer. Today it’s a special treat. For fans and Eddie.

The video comes in on a beige carpet and for the lucky few who jumped right in, the sounds of frustration as Eddie tried to figure out what he was doing. Once he got himself figured out, the shot now turned down a hallway with a room at the end lit up, he sang out “Ste-eve” to no response.

Not that Eddie was fazed. “Oh Steven,” he called again before slowly moving down toward the room. The hallway was covered in pictures, eagle-eyed viewers catch the rest of Corroded Coffin in some but the ones with friends at the beach go unnoticed.

The cries for his partner get more and more unhinged as Eddie creeps closer to what has to be their bedroom. The chat is exploding, Eddie can’t even try to read it, as people figure out they’re about to see inside Eddie Munson’s bedroom.

At the last moment, Eddie stops and there’s another bit of muttering before a thump echoes out and the camera changes to the forward-facing one. Eddie takes a second to adjust things and get his face in frame. His hair is damp and he’s freshly shaven. As refreshed and clean as he looks, the mischief that shines through.

“Today’s Steve’s last day of work before winter break and-an-and we gotta be kind, gang. He’s really struggling,” Eddie whispered.

Pausing to push his hair back and out of his face, Eddie leans in a little to see if Steve is going to acknowledge him yet or if he can continue.

“He’s going to miss his kids so much. I think he’s the only person in that whole building that doesn’t want two weeks off but, ya know, when you buy these kids their meals and you’re the safe space and the cool teacher, it’s a whole burden. Those kids need him and, whatever, he needs ‘em too.”

Eddie’s head dips out of frame and into his bedroom, quickly jumping back into frame. “He’s been a dick all morning too. I think…tune in to my live tomorrow night where we bare-knuckle box because, well, my manager won’t let me monetize the other way to let out frustrations.”

“You wanna do an Only Fans, do an Only Fans. Since when do you let people tell you what to do,” a voice off-camera snaps. Obviously belonging to Steve.

There’s an eye roll that only a boyfriend could give as he mouths “Yeah sure,” to the camera.

“Are you decent?” Eddie asks instead of picking a fight.

“If I say no will you stay out there?”

“See what I mean?” Eddie asked the screen.

The camera stays on Eddie as everything gets blurry. He moved and it was more than the slow walk down the hall. Judging by the way the screen rattled, he jumped into the room. As the focus clears up, Eddie makes a disappointed whine.

Another second passes and the thump hits again as Eddie goes back to filming from the rear camera. On their bed is Steve, putting on Christmas socks and wearing jeans and an ugly sweater. He looks ready to kill but doesn’t make a move, he stays there with a sock half on, watching Eddie.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to be wearing!” Eddie said.

The chat is nothing but emojis- flames, drooling faces, hearts- they speed by. It’s the same thing that happens every time Steve’s on camera. Eddie’s learned to ignore it.

With a disappointed shake of his head, Steve finished putting his sock on. “If you think I’m leaving the house–”

“He has to dress as Santa today,” Eddie says, the words erupted out of him. Steve deflated but didn’t fight it. “Turns out teaching elementary school is not a very male-driven field and the fifth-grade teacher retired last year. That makes Steve the only male teacher on staff and since gender roles are alive and well in middle America, he has to be Santa.”

“I don’t have to be.”

“Uh, I know. I pointed that out a long time ago but you’ll do anything for these kids so it’s not like you were going to say no.”

Again, Steve said nothing.

“You told me last night that you’d put it on in the morning,” Eddie whined, doing his best petulant child.

“Yeah but Mr. Harrington has to show up, I can’t walk in as Santa, it ruins the illusion.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. C’mon, just the beard?”

“I don’t know why you need me to put on a costume for you to make jokes about coming in places, poles, or sitting on my lap.”

“Fair point,” Eddie laughed.

Steve stood up from the bed and smoothed his outfit over. Eddie panned from Steve to the garbage bag with a Santa costume barely visible, then back to his partner.

“Well, why’d you stand up?”

Before Steve could say anything, the screen went fuzzy and the live ended.

A few hours later, a TikTok made it to Eddie’s page, filmed from the parking lot as Santa Steve stood out front to greet kids like he was the celebrity in the house. The text over top said, “He promised to wear it tonight.”

[serpentous]

♬ — BAH PACK #012 : SAILOR SONG

𐙚 ˖ names :

　　⪩ cataline , anne , coral , aegea , mary , cordelia , freeda , melody , marina , saylor , jacquotte , nineve , mira , daria , kailani , adira , nanami , tarni , sirena , lana , careen , anahita , jeanne , grace , piper , blaire , gwen , peyton

𐙚 ˖ pronouns :

　　⪩ she/her , they/them , shi/hir , sea/seas , sail/sails , ship/ships , wave/waves , sing/sings , shanty/shanties , plank/planks , salt/salts , coin/coins , gold/golds , kiss/kisses , love/loves , sink/sinks , worship/worships , deity/deities , lip/lips , pirate/pirates , navy/navies , gull/gulls , air/airs , cloud/clouds , fish/fishes , taste/tastes , flag/flags , skull/skulls , map/maps , spray/sprays , rum/rums , drink/drinks

𐙚 ˖ gender & orientation :

　　⪩ lesbian , butch , cisgender female , genderpirate , auramaric , oceanguardic lesbian , oceanbodiment , sailor occuden

𐙚 ˖ age :

　　⪩ 22

𐙚 ˖ species :

　　⪩ elf

𐙚 ˖ emojis :

　　⪩ 💋 , 🌊 , 🏴‍☠️ , 🍺 , 🔱 , 🪸 , 🫧

𐙚 ˖ kintypes :

　　⪩ merfolk otherkin , eagle therian

𐙚 ˖ sources :

　　⪩ sailor song (gigi perez)

𐙚 ˖ roles :

　　⪩ attraction holder , captain , bpd holder

𐙚 ˖ personality :

　　⪩ cataline is a wild spirit. she has a new crush almost every week, and she tends to be a bit obsessive. she gets her sense of self worth from the people she latches on to, and spends all of her time trying to get their attention. she’s a romantic, and is soft to any sort of romantic media or gesture. she deeply fears abandonment and does everything she can to avoid it, sometimes accidentally pushing people to abandon her in the process. she also experiences very black and white thinking. to her, people are either all good or all bad.

𐙚 ˖ likes :

　　⪩ the ocean , the beach , sailing , pirate aesthetics , her source , any pirate media , finding new labels and pronouns , root beer , aquatic birds , birds of prey , fishing , gacha games , women , medieval aesthetics , table top roleplaying , making ocs , writing fanfiction , shipping , yuri/wlw content , genderbending characters

𐙚 ˖ dislikes :

　　⪩ being ignored or abandoned , being rejected , the cold , winter , sour candy , most popular music , tiktok

𐙚 ˖ birthday :

　　⪩ july 11th

𐙚 ˖ typing quirk :

　　⪩ none

𐙚 ˖ faceclaims :

　　⪩ link , link

[rippleclan]

Kits, what are your favorite games?

-🐈 (I sent the wrong emoji last time guys ignore that 😭)

[Image ID: Locustkit says, "Moss-ball moss-ball moss-ball! I love chasing moss-balls around camp. Dad says I’m too rough about it sometimes, so he’ll hide the moss-ball and make me hunt it!"]

[Image ID: Burdockkit says, "Now that Downstar’s kits are older, I like to pretend I’m their mentor and have them do chores for me. They’re pretty bad apprentices."]

[Image ID: Clamkit says, "I’m not sure. I’d rather listen to one of Weedfoot’s stories than play games."]

[Image ID: Duskkit says, "Does sneaking out of camp count as a game? Because I try to do that a lot. Mom gets annoyed, but Fennelspot says she was just like me when she was little."]

[Image ID: Graykit says, "I call it “which kit am I?” Halibutkit and I switch places and we make cats guess who is who. Our scents are totally different, but everyone is still awful at telling us apart!]

[Image ID: Shadowkit says, "Halibutkit and I have this game called Eagle Eye! We pretend we’re eagles flying over the whole territory and we have to guess what the other eagle is looking at."]

[Image ID: Halibutkit says, "I like whatever game my littermates want to play. I don’t really care. They’re all fun!"]

[frauleindermorgen]

this unit values authority and faith

Try recruiting her again when you gain more experience?

tsu's fodlan template

PERSONAL INFORMATION

GENDER. Female

AGE. 25 (technically in toa she’s had two birthday so now 27 *shrug emoji*)

HEIGHT. 155 cm (5'0")

BIRTHDATE: Tenth of the Horsebow Moon (Sept 10th)

Brand/Holy blood: Marked as ? at first until later revealed in supports (obv dont click if u follow this blog + somehow dont know this and want RD unspoiled)

CLASS. Black Eagles Student

AFFILIATION. Kingdom of Daein, Tellius

PERSONAL HISTORY

Tellius calendar: 62…? Born

633: becomes a herbalist and later a fortune teller to make ends meet. Moves to the back alleys of Nevassa.

638: Meets Sothe

645: Attempts to leave Sothe behind in Crimea and take a boat to Begnion. Regrets this when war breaks out and they are separated.

Between 646 and 648: Reunites with Sothe and helps form the Dawn Brigade

648 summer to early winter: Meets Pelleas and is put in charge of first Daein Liberation Army and then King Pelleas's army 

Winter of 648: Accepts the request of Daein’s people and the king himself and prepares to take up the kingdom’s crown

INTERESTS. Magic, herbalism, hiking, games of strategy, divination

LIKES. The quiet, sunrise, her quill and journal, the greenhouse and gardening

DISLIKES. The smell of blood, daggers, sickeningly sweet things (and people), being alone for too long

STATUS.  Queen in training 

CLOSE ALLIES: Elincia, Celica, Pelleas, Leonardo, Edward, Kurthnaga

DINING HALL PREFERENCES

LIKES. Vegetable pasta salad, vegetable stir fry, Saghert and cream, Onion gratin soup, Sweet bun trio

DISLIKES. Anything with meat; fish too, though tends to be standard dishes rather than disliked.

DINING HALL NOTES

FAVORITE DISH.  ✧

To be able to have something like this… I am very grateful.

STANDARD DISH.  ✧

It’s nice to eat together, isn’t it? Oh, but don’t let it get cold!

LEAST FAVORITE DISH. ✧

Ah…  –I sounded sounded hurt, just now? No I’m… it’s fine, it will take getting used to, that’s all.

WITH CELICA/ELINCIA.  ✧

"It's been some time since we could talk to face to face leisurely; please, tell me what has transpired in your life since."

WITH SOREN.  ✧

C rank or below

"I usually do not mind the quiet but… well. Alright, I suppose I should get some reading in as well.”

B rank or above

“There’s an open spot so I’m sitting here. [...]  "Is that all you’re having? Here, eat up.”

WITH EDWARD.  ✧

“I’ll take some bread, but only a bit. I said a bit! Oh, and you can't just keep giving me those vegetables, you know."

(if eating with a third party)

“Can you help me talk some sense into this one? Afternoon classes are about to start and he thinks I should take the bread roll. You need it more, Edward - “new political thought in the Leicester Alliance” doesn’t take nearly as much energy as Gauntlet training!”

(to third party)

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

WITH LEONARDO.  ✧

“This dish is quite tasty! Do you think we could make it together sometime? I think I’d like to try…”

TEA TIME GUIDE

FAVORITE TEA. Mint Leaves, Ginger Tea, Crescent-Moon Tea, Bergamot 

CONVERSATION TOPICS. hopes for your future. books you've read recently. classes you might enjoy. capable comrades. cooking mishaps. a place you’d like to visit. the library's collection. the last battle.

TEA TIME QUOTES

GREETING.  ✧

(1) "Thank you for the invitation!”

(2) “Oh! You’ve already prepared it?”

(3) “I have been looking forward to this.”

FAVORITE TEA. ✧

“Oh, this is lovely. Thank you so much for thinking of me. May I?”

FIVE STAR TEA.  ✧

“Please, this is too much. Next time let me treat you.”

BEING OBSERVED.  ✧

(1) "Staring at me like that, your thoughts become almost… loud. Hm."

(2) "My hair? No, I'm not sure. This color is uncommon where I come from as well."  (3). "Have you been sleeping properly? You seem a bit tense.”

QUIPS.  ✧

Oh no, I wasn’t ignoring you. I saw a bird fly by just now and she reminded me of a friend.

Oh! It's much sweeter than I first thought.

Mmhm.

Of course.

That’s…

ENDING. ✧

"This was nice. I usually spend my down time in the forest or near the mountains but I could grow used to this as well."

FINAL COMMENTS.  ✧

To have even one person by your side to cherish is a truly precious thing, do you not agree?

ANSWER. Nod, Chat 

I do not miss having those visions exactly… but I do wonder if I could lead better, *be* better if I still had access to them.

ANSWER. Admonish, Sigh

I am used to drinking tea made from leaves I gathered myself.

I'd like to try that again some time.

ANSWER. Commend, Sip tea

I am a bit out of practice, but I used to make a living telling fortunes. If you give me your hand we can try it!

ANSWER. Blush, Laugh

MISCELLANEOUS DIALOGUE.

DISLIKED GIFT.  ✧

"That was kind of you."

LIKED GIFT.  ✧

"Something for me? You need not have, but I am glad you did."

FAVORITE GIFT.  ✧

"I... do not know what to say, no that's not right, I do - it's wonderful, thank you."

LOST ITEMS

AGRICULTURAL MANUAL: A large and intimidating tome on all manner of subjects related to large scale agriculture; a handmade bookmark has been left in a section titled “preparing the land”.

Location found: Library

BOOK OF FLOWER MEANINGS A second hand book that looks like it may have been purchased from the bazaar in town, with small pieces of parchment sticking out every which way. Notes are scribbled carefully on each piece of parchment and although the book is worn it is well cared for; it probably belongs to an eager student of its content.

Location found: Dining hall

RED GLOVES

Long, fingerless red gloves that reach past the elbow clearly belonging to someone with a slim and petite figure; you’re sure you’ve seen a pair just like these before in fact. Location found: Second floor dormitory

LOST ITEM QUOTES

OWNER.  ✧

"Yes, this is mine. You found it for me, then? Thank you so much!”

NOT OWNER.  ✧

"No, this does not belong to me; but I sense it is very precious to someone else. Shall we look for them together?"

MONASTERY QUOTES

CHOIR PRACTICE.  ✧

(1) "I’ve only sung by myself before… please let me know if I’m doing alright."

(2) "Everyone's voices coming together, yes, I understand why some would call it divine."

COOKING.  ✧

(1) "This is a bit different than the clay oven I'm used to..."

(2) "Oops!" (3) That technique you used, just now – might I watch it again?"

TUTORING

INSTRUCT

BAD.  ✧

"As I thought… this is quite difficult.”

Critique: "Yes. I will keep that in mind."

Console: "No, do not go easy on me. Please let us run through it again.”

GREAT.  ✧

"I have now seen this work and its rewards.”

PERFECT.  ✧

“I’ve done it! I feel as if I have gone beyond my limits.”

PRAISE. "Oh no, without you I could not have done so. Please keep guiding me.”

TASKS

STABLE DUTY. ✧

“I still fear riding, but being with them like this I can tell these horses are gentle creatures.”

WEEDING.  ✧

"Ah, this brings back memories; do you want to see who can gather up the most, it might be fun!”

SKY WATCH.  ✧

“It’s so high… please just give me a moment.”

CERTIFICATION EXAMS

FAILED.  ✧

"I apologize… next time I will be ready.”

PASSED.  ✧

"One step closer."

LEVEL UP

0 TO 2 STATS UP .  ✧

“This is… no, I can do better than this. I must.”

3 TO 4 STATS UP .  ✧

“If something has gone wrong I will simply correct it.”

5 STATS UP .  ✧

“Yes. For Daein!”

6 STATS UP .  ✧

“Goddess Ashunera, surely this is thanks to you.”

UPON REACHING LEVEL 99 .  ✧

“Yune, are you watching? No… I know you are. I promise to continue making you proud.”

UPDATE GOALS

RIDING.  ✧

“I think my fear of riding has less to do with the mounts themselves, and perhaps more so with my memories involving cavaliers. If I study their actions; their strategy and reasoning, I feel I will become more secure, and I ask that you support me. One day I very well may need to cast in this way.”

REASON.  ✧

“I am not sure if it is the classes or the people here but the offensive magic of Fodlan fascinates me. I think perhaps it is not so different from what my mentor once taught me. Would you like to see my notes – oh, er, of course later is fine.”

AUTHORITY.  ✧

“I came here to find out how to lead my people and I have since discovered that there are as many people as there are lands; so please, let me hone in on this field. I will create a Daein that everyone can be proud of.”

BUDDING TALENT

“I’ve almost grasped it. Once more!”

NEW SKILL

“Achieving something through my own power like this is wonderful; truly I thank you.”

RECLASSING .  ✧

(1) “It’s a strange feeling.” (2) “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” (3) “I will do my best.”

BATTLE QUOTES

WHEN SELECTED

FULL/HIGH HP .  ✧

“Let’s move out.”

MEDIUM HP .  ✧

“I see.”

LOW HP .  ✧

“Compared to them, this is…”

ENEMY DEALS 1 OR NO DAMAGE OR MISSES .  ✧

“I do not fear you!”

CRITICAL ATTACK .  ✧

“For the hope of all!” “Light, surround me!” “The future is ours!” “No more hesitation!”

GAMBIT .  ✧

“Together!”

“Stand down or we strike!”

GAMBIT BOOST .  ✧

“You have my trust and I have your back.”

DEFEATED ENEMY .  ✧

“It is done.” “Goodbye.” “I will not forget you.”

ALLY DEFEATS ENEMY .  ✧

“Well done!” “Magnificent skill!” “I could learn much from you.”

ALLY HEALS/RALLIES .  ✧

“I am in your debt.” “Let me return the favor now.” “This bond is our strength.”

DEFEAT QUOTE

CASUAL .  ✧

“There are people depending on me, I cannot fall here.”

CLASSIC .  ✧

“This thread of fate… cut short…” “I couldn’t… keep that promise.”

[nct-sky]

Get To Know Me ✨

+ about

#stage name - sky #birth name - park sora #birth name meaning - 'sora' means 'sky' #english name - skylar park #birthday - 1st of April 1994 #birthplace - chicago, illinois #hometown - chicago, illinois #nationality - american-korean #ethnicity - american-korean #languages - english (native), korean (fluent) #MBTI - INTP (the Logician) #representative emoji - 🦇/🦅 (bat & eagle) #zodiac - aries| #chinese zodiac - dog

🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫

+ appearance

#idol look alike - jinny, secret number #natural hair color - dark brown #natural hair type - straight #eye color - brown #height - 175cm (5'9'') #blood type - A- #dominant hand - right hand #special feature - sharp jawline & prominent cheekbones #birthmarks - coming soon #scars - coming soon #modifications - coming soon

⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵

+ career

#occupations - rap (100%), vocal (60%), dance (50%) #positions - rapper, vocalist #company - Clandestine Entertainment* (2010-2014) SM Entertainment (2014-present) (*completely fictional company) #trainee period - 6 years (2010-2016) #group debut - April 9th, 2016 (NCT U) July 7th, 2016 (NCT 127) #debut age - 22 years old #years active - 2016-present #association - CLD Entertainment*, SM Entertainment, NCT, NCT U, NCT 127, NCT Dream, WayV

🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫

+ statistics

vocals: 8/10 rap: 10/10 dance: 6/10 acting: 2/10 variety: 3/10 modeling: 7/10 songwriting: 9/10 producing: 8/10

⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵

+ health

#mental - she struggles with insomnia and social anxiety disorder #physical - rheumatoid arthritis, a chronic inflammatory disorder & Achromatopsia color blindness (only black, white & grey) #phobia - acrophobia (fear of heights) #allergy - aspirin, a pain medication

🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫

+ personal

#strengths - analytical, original, open-minded, curious, objective, #weaknesses - disconnected, insensitive, dissatisfied, impatient, perfectionistic #talents - mathematical thinking, high IQ, winning (especially in quizzes), fast thinking #hobbies - chess, programming, freestyle rap, singing #likes - apocalypse movies & books, staying inside, oversized clothes, naps/napping, science, learning new things, cleaning, math & physics, reading, quizzes, organization, fixing things & cars, simplicity, escape rooms, puzzles, inventions, fishing, going for walks, listening to podcasts #dislikes - public speeches, big crowds, award shows, licorice, high places, arguing, being ignored, mannequins & statues, rooftops, money, children, social events, messy dorm, flashing lights, loud noises, being late, surprises, jewelry

🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫🔵⚫

Hey, thanks for giving this post your time and I hope you will enjoy my stories. I appreciate you 💙

There is nothing prettier than a city at 5 am, with its empty streets and cold wind.

Disclaimer: All the pictures are from Pinterest and are not mine. Credit to the owners. ©︎ nct-sky - all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, or translate my work on Tumblr or other platforms.

[mimbotomy]

Make Me Write

Tagged by @aeide - thank you! I haven’t done any fanfic ask things in a hot minute and I lowkey missed them 🩷

Rules: Post your current WIPs with an emoji, people can then send you an ask with the emoji and ask for a fresh snippet.

As some of you might be aware, I have way too many WIPs (my last count was too close to 100 for my liking big yikes so I am no longer counting my WIPs for my mental health) so I’m only including the last five WIPs I’ve worked on:

❤️ Hold Your Bloody Hand in Mine: My Kassidas fic/character study/slightly incoherent mess that was originally supposed to be a fluffy little one shot about Kassandra having a little crush on Brasidas and Brasidas being so butthurt about her killing the Monger publicly that he doesn’t realize his crush on her until it smacks him in the face her first day in Arkadia. It is now an angsty mess that will be seven chapters if I stick to this outline (I probably won’t) and future chapters are probably also going to be 10K words plus because I have problems 😂

🦅 A Flap of an Eagle’s Wings: My second Odyssey time travel fix it fic in which Kassandra and Ikaros return to the moment Nikolaos yeets her off Taygetos, save Alexios, and then hunker down on Kephallonia and do their best to do just about everything else exactly as they did before so the Cyclops still delivers Barnabas to them. And after just three chapters and seven years, they’re not doing a very good job.

🎉 The Electric Boogaloo: The sequel to my Hades x Odyssey crossover There is No Escape. . ., this was originally going to be a bunch of one shots covering the rest of the Odyssey storyline. And it still is, except now I need to figure out how to lead up to the events of Hades 2 and also outline the third story in the series. Whoops.

⚡️ The Children of Kephallonia: Arguably my favorite Odyssey fic of mine for all it’s being a dick to work on right now, The Children of Kephallonia is a retelling of Odyssey in which Phoibe goes with Kassandra after Korinth. Also Kassandra is a legit demigod and there’s a lot more mythology and I’m going to start ignoring history entirely around the battle of Pylos. But the heart of the story is still Kassandra and Phoibe’s relationship

🏴‍☠️ Myrrine’s Good Mom Era: Title not finalized and neither is my outline, although it started as a one shot and is now a long fic because of who I am as a person. Basically, Myrrine finds Kassandra and Ikaros at the base of Taygetos instead of Alexios and things go from there.

I know I’m supposed to tag people but most of my writer friends all follow each other and probably already got tagged and I don’t want to double tag. Also I just got to a birthday/Christmas Eve party so I don’t have time to figure out who hasn’t been tagged so if you see this and want to do it please consider yourself tagged!

Merry Christmas Eve/Happy December 24th everyone! 🎄

[rowrowknowa]

ABOUT ME :D

Basics

✮ name - you can just call me E

✮ age - 23

✮zodiac - can you guess?

✮ gender - i use she/her pronouns, but don't mind being referred to with they/them and use of pretty much any gendered words (bro, dude, man, boss buddy, sis, girl, etc) doesn't bother me [[[dont call me sis if ur not black tho]]]

✮ mbti - ENFP-A consistently for the past 6 years (was INTP-T in HS)

✮ studies - huge into science ask me what kind; i also like music theory/history, art history, philosophy

Interests

✮ games - nintendo fan (no matter how much they piss me off). love pokemon, fire emblem (obsessed with fe3h), zelda, animal crossing etc. HUGE sonic the hedgehog fan

✮ anime - too many to make an exhaustive list without forgetting some. obviously my favorite is One Piece (i think my favorite show in general). i started watching it when i was like 4 with the 4kidz dub and here i am almost 20 years later still going oda and i locked in fr. also love attack on titan, naruto, death note, fairy tail, jjk, knb, hxh, black butler and so many more this is stressing me out trying to think of what ive watched so im gonna stop... ask me about what i've watched lets yap

✮ non-anime shows - gotta big ups to ATLA a modern masterpiece of western artistry. don't ask me about the live action bc i don't wanna talk about it. same deal here i cant think of all of them without short circuiting but top of mind i LOVE the good place, scandal, htgawm, grey's anatomy (before it crashed out), bridgerton, BREAKING BAD (not caught up in better call saul), superstore, vincenzo, crash landing on you, goblin, anything with gong yoo and/or lee dong wok in it tbh, strangers from hell, bad and crazy, attorney woo

✮ used to be super into marvel and the mcu (and i know thats a thing people say but it was so so bad for me) but its not what it used to be and also i think i started outgrowing it once my media literacy improved its ties to military propaganda couldn't be ignored lmao (also sabra being in the mcu is sosososo crazy) .. some of the comics still bang tho i wont lie

✮ music - not to be one of those "oh i listen to everything" people as a cop out but i truly do listen to so much disparate types of music *insert laugh crying emojis* but my overall favorite genre is jazz, i love 70s-00s black american music so much (i was a 9 year old motown stan it was so serious to me), love afrobeats, amapiano, baile funk, r&b, rap (meg thee stallion is literally my wifey), pop, country, classical, VIDEO GAME OSTS (in true sega stan fashion) -- recommend me your favorite song!

✮ kpop - a separate bullet because i know where the overlap in interests comes in lmao. honestly ive fallen back from kpop a bit, not as into it as i was like even 6 months ago but groups that i still actively follow and listen to are ateez (ot8 but strong swing for mingi) and nct. also know alot about bts, txt, seventeen, exo, and shinee if you ever want to chat about them, but i listen to mostly individual songs from them and other groups and don't follow their releases

Where is E in *insert work here*?

✮ pls i hate all spoilers but these are the ones i strongly care about pls take note pls :(

One Piece: ep. 1085 ... i avoid catching up because i get sad when there's no more to watch

FE3H: Finished Golden Deer and Blue Lions, please don't tell me anything about the Black Eagle story line

GOT/HOTD: caught up!

[afr0-thunder]

[Poor Chronicles Pt. 41]

Topics: Work (Vacation)/Chicago vs. CPD/Photography/Vocabulary/Girls/Super Bowl/SEXI (Final Update Pt. 2)/Phoenix “Theory”

Week 1 of my work “vacation” is complete. I am not scheduled for this entire holiday season. This may have been one of the only weeks I’ve had off since I had started.

I was almost murdered by the police for ignoring their “greeting” and being identified as someone holding a firearm. It was a visual misunderstanding. Still, he pulled his gun on me and I was not entertained. Will not elaborate any further.

I took some more pictures, my Ralph Lauren Polo sweater is actually more intriguing than I had initially thought.

I will be referring to my housing design as an “assortment”. I want a 50-story assortment so that my promiscuous wenches must go through multiple levels of physical activity before fucking me. Showers on the 47th floor. For example, “wife” #1 must complete a video of 10 three point shots, 1 min of jump role (freestyling), obstacle course with barbed wire (Jokes. Possibly. I like crazy women). First woman to the top, no reward. Just fucking. I don’t want the others to get jealous, but she was first and this ideally shouldn’t take the same amount of time for them all, so it shouldn’t even be an issue on finishing first (for them). Not like if I did…sexually. Like who makes it to me first…because it’s not a race, so they won’t finish near eachother in time, as I only have one dick in my arsenal. How would I start fucking 50 bitches at once? A bit of a friendly fire on myself for the “finishing first” originally. But nonetheless (anyways), unless I make my room door transparent… should I just make them come join? Do I make them edit it and put it all together. If they have time. DON’T. BE. LATE! Class is in session *yard stick slam on the desk* (All jokes). Timed? 30 mins or less, if task based not speed based. Effort based? Like “punitive” measures for intentional slacking/decrease in quality? I will obviously do mine as well. I may do timed 30 minute sessions for myself as well for hobbies such as sketching to say sharp. There may be a hot tub or even a pool on my level. A large TV! First done can pick today’s show or movie. Watch whatever show in the meantime. Or update others as they come if you don’t choose an [appetizer show]. Paused? Or maybe it’d just keep getting stopped from someone new always entering the room and become a big group discussion. Once a week. I forgot they’d have to have jobs and have to travel a lot so I can’t make them do it ALL week. Can I? They may have time. It depends. Can’t complete a level? That’s okay. Ends at 2:00pm. We’ll have those digital clocks with the red numbers, so everybody knows what floor and hour they are on. Make it tomorrow’s whole day goal. If met early, complete other tasks from previous day (for daily fitness/exercise). Until you can complete the circuit by 2:00pm, don’t set a new goal. (This would be a great reality show, but I don’t want cameramen, have any interest in entertainment as far as movies/television and I could potentially do this naked. Why would I record obstacle course porn?).

The Ravens continue to reign dominant. Lamar Jackson is a spectacular Super Bowl champion versus the Dallas Cowboys. The Philadelphia Eagles will be there though. Obliterated the Dolphins for that 28 point comeback last year. I like Tua, but damn Lamar did him dirty.

I have decided to reduce the number of baby mommas. I said I would never speak to SEXI again, last year in 2022, for my own personal reasons. She responded to the direct message from the other day and said “Thanks” with a crying laughing emoji. I said she looked “sexy”. I’m about to leave this bitch on read for life. I, however, elect to resume fucking up people’s lives. I will not fuck up hers in any fashion. As long as she holds this fumble in. Otherwise, they will make fun of her.

Your pathways from birth until death carrying every breath you take, following your every step. New cells are created, hair sheds, skin sheds, blood, sweat and tears, saliva shed. One day, they will all follow along the same path as the airways and in the perfect moment will all come together and you will rise again as phoenixes do. Everything you once were will all come back together long after your death and you will rise once more. If you hate your being, you will continue to pollute the airways and deteriorate your natural being through practices such as drug consumption and heavy eating.

I have more thoughts, but time to smoke.

- MH (2023)

[12/31/2023 - 7:59PM]

[b6cky]

tender

y/n was the only one that seemed to treat bucky like a human.

SYNOPSIS: fluffy bucky barnes x gn!reader (they/them)

WARNINGS: none, but please tell me if i should add any!

bucky hated the way people had treated him now. the people he hated the most were those who treated him like a fragile flower, as if you spoke to him in the wrong tone he would somehow become the winter soldier again. he hated how people pitied him. there was nothing to pity, in his mind at least. he hated being tiptoed around like he was pieces of broken glass, if you weren’t careful around him, he’d hurt you.

there was one person that treated him how he wanted to be treated. y/n. they treated him like he was human, they treated him as if they had never heard of the winter soldier, never fought against the winter soldier. it confused him, but he was grateful for it nonetheless. he never had explicitly thanked them for everything, but he was always much nicer to them. bucky had a habit to act the way people expected him to act. if they spoke to him like he was some ex-assassin asshole, that’s exactly what he was.

“hey buck, what’s on your mind today?” y/n sat down next to him.

“hm?” bucky turned to look at them, not noticing them until they had spoken, “nothin’, i’m alright.”

“yeah, because glaring holes into the wall is definitely a sign of being okay,” y/n sarcastically quipped back with a smile on their face, “whatever it is, hope it stops bothering that pretty little mind of yours.”

bucky scoffed and folded his arms, “pretty? my mind is anything but pretty.”

“i don’t know what things were like during the stone age, but now usually when people compliment you, you say thank you,” y/n rolled their eyes, the smile on their face letting bucky know they were only joking.

“you think you’re so funny,” bucky rolled his eyes.

“i do, i do think that, thank you,” y/n smiled.

“well, you’re not.”

“i could call a random person in my contacts and they would say i am hilarious, bucky,” y/n pulled out their phone, opening their contacts, “pick someone, anyone.”

“are you being serious right now?” he raised an eyebrow, acting like he wasn’t amused.

“yeah, pick someone.” they stared into his eyes.

“uh… your mom?” bucky replied and y/n slapped their hand over their mouth, stifling their laugh, “what? what did i say?”

bucky got no response except for their laughs, he stopped trying to hide his smile and just smiled at y/n, chuckling at how hard they were laughing. the voice in the back of his head had questioned how someone could be so comfortable laughing so hard next to a man that had claimed the lives of so many, but to more y/n had laughed, the more he ignored the thought.

“buck, i am so sorry!” they wiped tears from their eyes, “okay, i’m better, i’m calm.”

“what was so funny?” bucky had a smirk on his face and a curious brow raised. y/n paused, thinking about how to explain what was so funny about the phrase “your mom” to someone that was over 100 years old.

“even if i wanted to explain it to you, i really don’t think i would be able to,” y/n laughed softly.

bucky’s eyes fell to their contact list and he narrowed his eyes, “who is sergeant loser?”

he looked back up at y/n and they just stared back at him, trying to not smile, “am i sergeant loser? really?”

“if it makes you feel any better, steve is captain loser,” they chuckled softly.

“i can’t believe you,” he rolled his eyes.

“what? am i saved as ‘y/n from work’, i bet i am, am i, barnes?” y/n laughed.

“check for yourself,” he tossed his phone to y/n.

y/n unlocked his phone, “really? no password, you’re like an old man..”

“like?” bucky raised an eyebrow, staring at them.

“sorry sergeant fossil, it’s hard to remember you served in world war 2, when you look like that,” y/n rolled their eyes, “i’m saved as ‘y/n’ with a rabbit emoji? why the rabbit?”

“you said that when you were a kid that you would always have this recurring dream that you were a rabbit and that an eagle would always find you and pick you up and fly away with you,” bucky explained, looking to the floor when he realised how creepy it is to have such a minute thing be remembered.

“you remember that?” y/n smiled softly.

“you act like i don’t listen to people,” he scoffed, looking back at their face, his expression softening when he had realised how tenderly they were looking at him. instead of saying anything, y/n wrapped their arms around his larger frame and embraced him tightly. bucky wasn’t too good with affection ever since everything, but he always tried his best. he wrapped his arms around their waist and pulled them close.

“thank you, doll.” he muttered into the top of their hair, the nose muffled by their hair, but y/n heard it.

y/n knew that he was saying thank you for much more than the hug. they said nothing to respond and just hugged him tighter to let him know that they had heard it.

[puckinghell]

Acts Of Service | Elias Pettersson

Summary: When people have different love languages, sometimes it’s hard to understand what the other is trying to say. 4 times Elias shows you he loves you, and the 1 time you tell him.  Words: 7.5k (whoops) Note: This concept was very interesting to explore. Also yes, this entire thing was written because of that one picture of Elias in that blue sweater stepping out of the car like a fucking GQ model. 

----

(Some time ago)

“Didn’t you say there’s an apartment free in your building?” Brock asked as soon as you answered the phone, forgoing the “hello”.

“Hello, Brock, my very good friend, how nice to talk to you! How are you doing?” you deadpanned.

At least he had the decency to sound ashamed. “Ah, yes, hi. Sorry. I’m just in a hurry and it’s important.”

You frowned. “Why? Are you looking to move?”

“No.” Brock laughed. “Stetch would kill me. No, it’s about the rookie. Petey? I told you about him. Swedish, quiet, best fucking hands in the league.”

Yes. Brock had told you about the rookie, although you still thought it dumb to call him that. Brock was basically still a rookie himself.

“What does that have to do with my apartment building?”

“He said no to having a billet family but everyone on the team thinks it’d be good for him to have someone to kinda look out for him a bit. He’s never been to Canada before this, you know, and he’s never lived on his own either. His English isn’t that great and everything is new for him. And since you’re such a caring, loving person, we thought…”

“You thought I could babysit him?” you finished for Brock.

“It’s not babysitting. Just, being friendly if he needs anything. Obviously we’re there for that too, but it’d be nice to have you so close by.”

Close by would be an understatement: the free apartment was across the hall from yours.

You weren’t sure if this sounded like something that you would necessarily want to do, but you did feel a bit sorry for Elias: you’d met him at a team thing earlier that week and he’d looked completely lost in the midst of all the Canadian hockey slang that you barely managed to follow, even after having been friends with Brock for years. He mostly kept to Eagle, spoke in Swedish, and his eyes flickered nervously across the room whenever anyone else approached him.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll talk to my landlord. But you owe me, Blondie.”

Brock was happy enough that he didn’t even call you out on the nickname.

1. 

“Have I told you lately how much of a lifesaver you are?” You lean across your desk, resting your chin in your hands. Elias looks mildly amused as he hands you the papers.

“Nearly every day,” he says, “but then I save your life every day, so that seems fair.”

You grab the papers from his hands.

“You’re a lifesaver and the love of my life, Petey.”

You think back to when Elias just moved into your apartment building, only because Brock thought he needed someone to look after him. You could laugh, now, thinking about how wrong he’d been.

Elias is the most self-sufficient, independent person you know. You don’t think he’s ever needed anything from anyone. Like in hockey, where he can make the play and score the goal all at the same time, Elias has his life together.

Unlike you.

Despite the fact that Elias hadn’t needed much help from you, you had become very fast friends. His quick witted sarcasm always managed to make you laugh and he liked how upfront and honest you were with him about things. It was easy, too, to spend time together. With him living just across the hall, you found yourself wandering to his apartment whenever you were bored, and he showed up at yours often when he didn’t feel like cooking.

Just because he could cook, didn’t mean he always wanted to.

And ever since the two of you had become friends, Elias had your back. When you needed someone to water your plants, or feed your cat Puck – Brock had named him – or, apparently, bring you the important work papers that you forgot at home after having worked on them all weekend.

You groan as you flick through the papers. “I thought I was going to die. Without these I can’t finish my presentation.”

“When is it?” Elias asks, eyes searching behind you. You know he’s looking out for your asshole of a boss, who will use any excuse to yell at you, especially the unannounced visit of a friend.

“Tomorrow. I got all the content in these papers here, but I still have to make the PowerPoint.” You sigh. “It’s still so much work.”

“Oh.” Elias’ face lights up. “Almost forgot. Brought you this.” Triumphantly, he reaches down and comes up with a paper bag from your favorite coffee shop.

The words fall off your lips in a gasp. “You didn’t!”

“Strawberry scone and a large caramel macchiato with soy milk.” Elias grins. “I also got you a chocolate chip cookie for later.”

“Marry me,” you proclaim, as you make grabby hands for the bag. The coffee is precisely what you need and your mouth is already watering at the idea of the food.

“Get me a ring, then,” Elias jokes, as he starts getting up from the chair.

Something tightens in your stomach, so you quickly take a bite of the scone: anything to push those feelings to the side. It works a little, and at the very least it tastes amazing.

You’re just friends. If you were gonna be anything more, Elias would’ve made a move already. Or, if you’d been brave enough, you would’ve: but he’s never said anything to make you think he’s interested and quite frankly, you’re not that brave.

“Thank you,” you say, mouth still full of scone, and Elias wrinkles his nose at that as you knew he would.

“I’m going to the store now,” he says, “anything you want me to pick up for you?”

“Wine?” you ask, hopeful. “I’m gonna need it after today.”

Elias rolls his eyes at you, but when you come home after the most grueling day at work there’s a bottle of rosé sitting in your fridge, next to a bag full of your favorite Thai take out food.

Love you, you quickly text Elias, even though you know he can’t answer because the game is about to start.

You take some time showering and putting on comfortable clothes, then situate yourself on the couch and put on the game. It has already begun, and you know it’s not gonna be an easy one, against the Bruins.

It’s not until the first intermission, when you check your phone, that you see there’s a reply from Elias waiting for you.

It’s just a simple heart emoji, but it makes your heart race anyway.

2.

“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I can barely hear you.” Fiona’s tone is disapproving, and you pull your mouth away from where you’d pressed it into your arm to scream.

“I said, this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”

She laughs. “It’s just a car, Y/N.”

You don’t necessarily like your job, but Fiona is one of the reasons you’re still putting up with it. She’s not just a colleague anymore, slowly turning into a friend and someone you confide into about everything – even about your Elias problem – and you love her, but sometimes you could murder her.

“It’s not just a car,” you bite. “It’s my only mode of transportation, because you know how much I hate taking the bus, and it’s broken, and I probably can’t even afford to get it fixed. And now I have to walk home, and it’s raining.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Fiona admits.

After a long day at work, you couldn’t wait to get home and watch The Bachelor until you fell asleep, your cat in your lap. However, when you finally got away from the office and stepped into your car, it was clear the universe had different plans.

It didn’t start.

After trying approximately 15 times, you’d screamed, nearly cried, hit the steering wheel, and then went back inside to scream and cry a little more at Fiona’s desk.

“I just wanna go home, Fi.” You know you sound miserable, but you honestly can’t help it. Taking the bus always heightens your anxiety, so you avoid it at all costs: however, walking home in this pouring rain doesn’t seem like much fun either.

And Fiona can’t even bring you home, because she takes the bus to work like a normal person.

“There’s a simple solution to this, you know,” Fiona says. She starts to organize the papers on her desk, a clear sign that she’s getting ready to leave the office as well. “You could just call…”

“No,” you interrupt her, knowing exactly where she’s going with this. “I can’t call Elias. He’s got the boys over today and I won’t interrupt his fun with my misery. Besides, he does too much for me already, I can’t ask him for more.”

“Right,” Fiona drawls, “but when he hears that you were stuck here and didn’t call him…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t have to.

Elias would be furious.

One time, you were on a night out when you got a little too tipsy and didn’t realize your phone had died. By the time you noticed, all your friends had already jumped in their respective Ubers, but you had been too busy chatting with some girl you didn’t know to order yours, and now you couldn’t because you didn’t have a phone. 

You knew you could’ve asked any random person to order you an Uber, or at least to borrow their phone to call Elias – it’s not like you didn’t know his number by heart – but that felt like too much. It had been 3 am and he had a game the next day, so you decided to walk home.

When he found out the next day, he got so mad he didn’t talk to you for 4 days. Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore and just sat on his couch pouting at him until he spoke to you again.

“Something could’ve happened,” he’d muttered, explaining to you why he got mad in the first place. “And I’m your best friend, and you should know me enough to know that I would much rather you wake me up than you walk home alone.”

You did know that, and he was your best friend, and you’d promised him you’d never do it again.

It’s only that promise, that causes you to reach for your phone.

“I’m texting him, but if he’s busy, I’m walking,” you tell Fiona stubbornly. She ignores you, which is probably fair enough.

Hey, you busy right now? Are the guys still there?

The answer comes right away. What’s wrong?

Damn, he knows you too well. You quickly explain the situation and before you know it, Elias is on his way to come get you, and Fiona is bidding you goodbye after you promise her you’re fine on your own for the twenty minutes it’s gonna take Elias to get there.

You’re just checking your email on your phone when you hear the bell at the front door.

“I’m coming!” you call out. You hurry to grab your bags and then walk quickly to the door, where Elias is standing with his car keys between his fingers.

“So Bella finally gave up, huh?” he asks, a sly little smirk on his face. He always teases you with the fact that you named your car.

“Yes, and I know you told me,” you sigh, and it’s clear that he immediately – and correctly – reads your mood.

Without a word, he opens his arms, and you gratefully fall into them, hugging him tightly to your body. There’s very little in the world that brings you more comfort than one of Elias’ hugs: although being on Elias’ couch wearing one of his old hoodies watching some stupid reality show might come close.

“Let’s go home,” Elias finally mumbles, and he holds out an umbrella when he lets you go.

It’s raining really hard, and you know he has to park his car a little bit away because there’s no parking in front of your office, so you take it.

“You could’ve just called, I would’ve ran out,” you tell him sternly, but he shrugs.

“But then how would you have gotten the umbrella?”

You would tell him you’re not made of sugar, but as soon as you step outside the rain clatters loudly against the fabric of the umbrella and you realize you would’ve really, really hated to not have it, so you stay quiet.

Instead, you walk after him as he runs to his car and opens the passenger door for you. It’s still running, and the heater is on: only then do you realize you’re quite cold.

This morning they said it would be nice outside, so you didn’t bother to take a coat.

It’s quiet in the car for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, and combined with the soft music that is playing on the radio it lulls you into a false sense of comfort.

Until you realize something.

“Oh God,” you groan, “I’m gonna have to call someone to tow Bella to a mechanic.”

Elias raises an eyebrow. “Well, you could just leave her there.”

Normally you would’ve at least playfully punched his arm for the sarcastic tone in his voice, but right now you’re too busy freaking out.

“And how am I gonna get to work tomorrow? Don’t you dare say you’ll bring me cause I know you’ve got morning practice and it’s super out of your way. Fuck, why did this have to happen to me?”

You let your head fall against the window. The glass is cold against your cheek and it’s enough to stop the spiraling in your brain at least for a second.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice has lost all sarcastic edge. It’s gentle now, and he’s speaking low as if not to startle you. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll call the tow truck and the mechanic and get your car fixed. And Brock lives close enough that he can take me to and from practice and you can just take my car to work.”

It’s… a reasonable solution, but once again something that Elias has to go out of his way for, even just a little bit, and you feel something warm bloom inside your chest.

“Okay,” you answer, the stress already ebbing away. “Thank you. You’re the best.” You reach out and place your hand on his knee, squeezing slightly. “Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Elias mumbles something incoherent. You think you see some color on his cheeks, but surely that’s just because the heater is on, because there’s no way he’s blushing over something you said.

You turn off the heater, and let your thoughts wander as Elias drives you home.

3. 

Traveling is fun, but traveling for work is instantly a lot less fun. You really don’t know how Elias does it.

You’re feeling run down and jetlagged when you come back from your work trip, which is ridiculous cause you flew to Toronto, not to freaking Europe. But it’s late at night and the three days you were away were so busy you can barely remember sleeping at all.

Fiona slept on the plane, so she looks a little more alive than you when your feet touch the ground at Vancouver airport.

“Is Elias coming to pick you up?” Fiona asks, as you’re both walking through the gate.

You shake your head. “I’m sure he would’ve insisted if he could, but he’s in California right now. They played the Kings tonight and they’re playing the Sharks the day after tomorrow.”

“I wish I was in California,” Fiona says wistfully. It’s cold and wet in Vancouver and it wasn’t much better in Toronto. The tiredness doesn’t help: it feels as if the cold of the night is slowly creeping into your bones.

“Come on then, I’ll drop you off.” You thank Fiona and follow her to her car. Normally you wouldn’t have minded taking an Uber, but right now you just wanna get to bed as soon as possible.

“If I fall asleep, just let me sleep here,” you mumble, resting your head back against the head rest. Fiona laughs as she starts the car.

“No way, you’ll freeze to death.” She squints outside. “Do you think it’s gonna rain?”

“It always rains,” you say, despite the fact that it’s not raining at the moment.

Fiona turns onto the highway. “So, are you finally gonna put up that bookcase you bought?”

Involuntarily, you groan. “Stop, don’t remind me.”

Your old bookcase is big and ugly, and it has been a thorn in your eye ever since you moved in. The person that lived there before you left it there, and you only kept it because you couldn’t really afford not to.

Four weeks ago, you finally allowed yourself to buy a new, prettier bookcase.

But…

“It’s just so big,” you whine, repeating the excuses you’ve been giving Elias every single time he raises a judgmental eyebrow at the old bookcase still standing in your living room. “It’s gonna take forever to take it apart and then it’s gonna take me even longer to somehow get it all downstairs and get rid of it.”

“And then you have to build the new one,” Fiona nods understandingly. “And you’re not good with furniture.”

“Hey,” you protest, but it’s weak. You’re not good with furniture, which was proven when you tried to help Fiona move in and didn’t manage to help her put together anything at all. Instead she ended up with a table with three legs. 

You even tried to read the manual, but it’s just not your forte.

“I’ll do it,” you add, “I promise you I will. Just, maybe not this weekend…”

Fiona laughs, but she doesn’t call you out on the fact that it probably won’t happen during the week either.

Finally, you arrive at your building. You can’t wait to go to bed, and you thank Fiona multiple times before dragging your luggage upstairs. When you open the door to your apartment, Puck comes running up to you, meowing and weaving between your legs.

“Don’t be dramatic,” you tell the cat sternly. “Petey sent me many pictures of you sleeping in his lap and I know he feeds you chicken when he thinks I won’t notice, so you got spoiled this week.”

You lovingly scratch Puck’s ears, before flicking on the light and kicking the door behind you in the lock.

Instantly, you notice the difference.

Your apartment isn’t big: real estate in Vancouver isn’t cheap and your job isn’t great. You got this place mostly for the location, and you like the big windows in the apartment and how it manages to get in light even during the darkest of winter days.

One corner of your living room, however, was always darker than the others. The bookcase took away the entirety of the white wall, and it created a dim lit, sad looking corner.

Now, it’s open and bright, as your new bookcase stands proudly in its place.

There’s only one person who would’ve done that.

The phone rings a few times, but you know the Kings game ended a while ago so you let it ring. After a while, Elias picks up.

“Sorry for the background noise,” is the first thing he says. “We’re on the plane. Taking off in a few minutes, probably.”

In the background, you hear some yelling. Probably Jake.

“You put up my bookcase,” you blurt out, ignoring Elias’ statement. “You put it up and all the books are in it and the other one is gone.”

Elias sounds a little smug when he answers. “Well, it’s not like you were ever gonna do it.”

“Thank you.” To your own horror, you can feel tears burning behind your eyes. “Elias, seriously…”

“It’s nothing.” You can hear Elias’ smile even over the phone: you know everyone always makes fun of his deadpan tone when he talks to media but with his friends, his voice always betrays everything he’s feeling. “I know you were worried about it, and I know how much you hated that old one.” He laughs. “I get why now, by the way. It took me and Brock like four hours to get that thing out.”

“Brock helped too?”

“He did.” Elias is silent for a while, but in the background you hear another voice. “Brock says to tell you that I forced him. But that’s not entirely true.”

Entirely. You know Elias definitely did force him.

“Tell him thank you too.”

“He says you’re welcome,” Elias says, quick enough that it makes you think Brock didn’t say that at all. “We’re about to take off so I have to put my phone on airplane mode. But call me tomorrow okay? I wanna hear about your work trip.”

“Okay.” For some reason, you can still feel the lump in your throat. You didn’t notice it momentarily, while you were focused on Elias’ and Brock’s bickering, but now it’s back, and with a vengeance.

Fuck. You just…

“I miss you.” You blurt it out before you can stop yourself and if anyone would ask, you would blame the exhaustion and the fact that Elias can’t see how wet your eyes are over the phone.

“I’ll be back soon,” he answers softly, and his voice is gentle in a way that makes you think he knows about the tears, anyway. “And when I am, we’re gonna take a whole night to eat food and stare at that bookcase, because it needs to be appreciated after the effort I had to put in to build it.”

You laugh before quietly saying goodbye to Elias and hanging up the phone.

In the kitchen, Puck sits in front of the fridge. When you open it there’s a pan with chicken.

For Puck the note next to it says, and you send Elias a picture of Puck with his chicken.

“He spoils you,” you tell your cat. You decide to ignore the fact that he kinda spoils you, too.

4. 

When you open the door to your apartment, you’re met with the smell of garlic.

After yet another shitty day at work, you can already feel the lump in your throat building again. You didn’t even tell him, this time. In fact, you carefully avoided his texts because you knew he’d clock that something was wrong.

Fuck. That’s probably where you went wrong in the first place; usually you never ignored Elias’ texts.

“Hello?” you call out into your own apartment.

There’s soft music playing and there’s light coming from the living room, but the amazing smell that tickles your senses is clearly coming from the kitchen, so that’s where you go.

Elias is standing at your kitchen counter, chopping a carrot.

“Hey,” he greets, smiling your way. “I’m making dinner.”

It’s almost too much, how domestic it looks. And how right: like he belongs there in your space, waiting for you to come home.

Suddenly there’s the overwhelming urge to go towards him, so you do. His arm immediately lifts, creating space for you in the crook of his body, and you slip under his arm easily.

“How did you know?” you mumble into the fabric of his worn Canucks hoodie. It smells like him, a scent that reminds you of home as much as your mother’s signature dish.

“You didn’t answer my texts,” Elias hums. His arm tightens around your body. “So I figured you could use some good food and a bath.” His head motions towards the general direction of the bathroom. “I’m running it as we speak.”

God. You love him.

It hits you, then. You knew you had a crush on him, knew you wanted to kiss him and hold his hand and feel his hands on you. But it’s more than that, now.

It’s the realization that you want to share everything with him. The ups and the downs. The bad nights and the bright mornings. You want him in your kitchen, but more than that, you want it to be his kitchen, too.

Fuck. You’re so royally screwed.

Because he does this, and he does so much for you, but he’s never said anything, anything at all, to indicate that he wants that. Or has even considered it, thought about it.

Maybe it’s never even crossed his mind. Maybe he takes care of you like he would take care of a sister.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice is gentle as it pulls you out of your thoughts, back down to earth. “You’re shaking. Go take a bath, and I’ll finish dinner, and then we’ll watch How I Met Your Mother. I wanted to watch the next episode but I waited for you.” His grin is a little lopsided. “Isn’t that chivalrous of me?”

It is, and normally you would tease him for it, but you can’t really think or speak, so you just nod.

“There’s wine in the fridge, if you want a glass,” Elias says. He holds out a wine glass, already waiting for you on the counter.

And who cares that it’s only a Tuesday: you deserve it, damn it, so you open the fridge to find the wine.

You’re met with more than just that.

“You bought groceries?” you ask, your eyes traveling through your fridge. You hadn’t gone grocery shopping in like a week, and when you left for work this morning the fridge was basically empty. Now it’s so full you wonder how you’re gonna close the door.

“How else was I gonna cook anything? You only had cat food left,” Elias tuts. You’re not surprised to find Puck at Elias’ feet, waiting for him to inevitably slip him some human food.

“Did you get…”

“Your coconut yoghurt? Yes.”

He did, and he got basically all your staples, and nothing you wouldn’t buy yourself.

“Honestly,” you say, as you finally reach for the bottle and pull your head out of the fridge. “I don’t know what to say, Petey. Thank you. I had such a sucky day and now it’s already endlessly better.”

This time you know you’re not imagining the flush on Elias’ cheeks.

“It’s fine,” he says. “You should go take that bath before it goes cold.”

You want to say more: to tell him time and time again how amazing he is, how much he means to you, how thankful you are. But you know once you start, you can’t be trusted to not say the one thing you don’t think he wants to hear.

So you say nothing, and simply go to take your bath.

+1

But you think about it.

You think about it all throughout Christmas, where you don’t see Elias at all. You think about it during NYE, when you get a drunk SnapChat from Elias with his brother, right at midnight.

At least, you figure, he’s not kissing any girls.

You’re not kissing any boys, either. You’re at a NYE party with Fiona and it’s fun, it is, but it’s not the same as it would be if Elias wasn’t all the way in Sweden.

You miss him like a limb, and you know it’s not fair because he rarely gets time to go home to Sweden and he deserves that time with his family, but you can’t say you didn’t wish his time off ended already.

When it finally does, it’s not Elias you see first. Troy is throwing a late New Years party, just to welcome everyone back to Vancouver as they get ready to start the season back up, and when you arrive at his house it’s early enough in the evening that there’s only a handful of people there.

“Y/N!” Brock calls out, opening his arms to give you a big hug as you enter. “Missed you!”

You laugh. “Get off of me, you giant. I’m gonna drop the wine.”

“Not the wine,” Troy says dramatically, tearing it out of your hands. His eyes are sparkling when he thanks and hugs you, and then Brock is ushering you into the living room, where Jake is talking with Quinn.

Or talking at Quinn. To be honest, you never really know when Quinn is paying attention.

“Y/N!” Jake exclaims, much like Brock had. “I’m glad you’re here, we need your input on something.”

“Okay?” you ask, curiosity instantly taking over. Whenever Jake and Brock get together, it promises to be an interesting evening.

“We’re trying to decide Brock’s love language.”

It’s sudden enough that you laugh. “His what?”

“Love language,” Jake explains. “Like, how he shows people he loves them. He says it’s quality time, but I think it could be physical touch. He’s always touching people.”

“Jake is deflecting because his love language is physical touch,” Brock scowls. “I think I know my own love language, Tuna.”

“Hold on.” Unfortunately, you have to press the pause button on their discussion. “What options do we have?”

You’ve got no idea where they got this from, but it doesn’t really matter. You’re always down to share your opinion on stupid stuff with your favorite boys.

“There’s gifts, quality time, physical touch, words of affirmation, and…” Brock pauses, and you can nearly see the wheels in his head turning.

“Acts of service,” Quinn offers, which proves that he was actually paying attention.

“Mine is physical touch,” Jake says determinedly. “When I care about someone, I always wanna be touching them, and when I’m in love with someone that’s like twenty times worse.”

“Poor girl,” Quinn mutters, and the conversation gets paused in order for Jake to put Quinn in a headlock.

“I think yours is quality time, actually,” you tell Brock when Jake is done murdering the rookie. “Your ex was always on her phone during your date nights and I remember it drove you crazy.”

“See,” Brock says proudly. “Quality time baby. If I’m there I’m there.”

“What about yours, Huggy?” Jake asks. “Physical touch would make sense, since you’re called Huggy.”

“I’m not called Huggy,” Quinn deadpans. His face is devoid of any emotion, but you know him well enough to recognize the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He reminds you of Elias, when he does that. “And if we were going by nicknames your love language would be fishing.”

Everyone cracks up on that, and then the doorbell rings and Bo arrives.

The topic gets put on hold, then, because Bo is instantly talking about Gunnar’s first Christmas and Brock is talking about becoming an uncle again and you feel warm and happy on the couch with your wine, squeezed between Brock and Troy.

Until, a little later, you realize someone is missing.

“Where’s Petey?” you ask Troy. “Isn’t he coming?”

Troy shrugs. “Should do. But you never know with Pete.”

It’s not entirely true: if Elias promises he’ll be there, he will be there. But, to be fair, he usually doesn’t promise that to anyone but you, and you hadn’t asked him to come, this time.

You figured he just would.

“What about Petey’s love language?” Brock asks idly, not knowing he’s opening Pandora’s box for you. “Definitely not words of affirmation, huh.”

Troy laughs.

“Nah, Petey’s an acts of service guy. He’s always doing shit for Y/N.”

You would protest if you trusted your voice not to shake. As it is, you stay quiet and hope the flush on your cheeks gets mistaken for a wine flush, and not an Elias flush.

Brock brightens. “Oh, yeah! Getting her car fixed, making dinner, building her stupid bookshelf, feeding her cat… He is a typical acts of service guy.” He bumps against your shoulder playfully. “I hope you appreciate his showing of love, Y/N. He rarely does that shit for me.”

Troy snorts. “That’s cause he’s not in love with you, Boes.”

“He’s not in love with me either!” you squeak, unable to stay quiet any longer. You know if you don’t derail this trail of thought very soon, it’s gonna end badly for you.

Both Troy and Brock look unimpressed, at that statement.

“Yes, he is,” Brock says slowly, as if explaining something to an unruly child. “He drops whatever he has going on to do small things that make your life easier. That’s literally the same as him screaming I’m in love with you from the highest rooftop in Vancouver.”

“He’s not like you,” Troy continues, a little more gentle. “When people have different love languages, they don’t always understand what the other is trying to say. Your love language is words of affirmation. You’re always telling Petey how amazing he is. But he doesn’t see that as a declaration of love, or whatever. He thinks you tell everyone that they’re amazing.”

You do, to be fair, but not as often as you tell Elias. Because he’s…

Well. Amazing would be an understatement, actually. He’s everything to you.  

Things are starting to make sense, like puzzle pieces fitting into place. Suddenly, you start wondering if there’s more to his acts of service than plain friendship, or him being a good guy.

It’s not like he does stuff like that for all his friends. He helps them out, sure, but he always goes above and beyond for you, usually not even needing to be asked.

But he’s not in love with you, surely? He hasn’t said anything…

But maybe words aren’t his thing. Not like they are yours: the way you can’t stop yourself from gushing into Elias’ ear even when you know you should stop.

What if Brock and Troy are right?

You don’t get much time to think it through, because that’s when Elias finally appears in Troy’s living room, looking endlessly cool in his blue sweater, wearing his glasses. He’s sending death glares at Jake, who wolf whistles from the corner, but then his eyes meet yours and they soften.

“Hi there,” he smiles, reaching out to you. You immediately jump up and launch yourself at him, any previous conversation about the two of you momentarily forgotten as you curl your body into his, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Missed you,” you hum into his shoulder, and you’re rewarded with a grin you can feel against the skin of your neck.

“Are you sure hers isn’t physical touch?” you hear Brock ponder, and you would flip him off if you could be bothered.

You can’t. All you can be bothered doing is plastering yourself to Elias’ side and not leaving him alone even for a second, the rest of the night.

It works at least for a while, until he asks: “Do you want another drink?”

“I’ll go with you,” you say, not willing to part with him yet, and you ignore the knowing look Brock shoots you as the two of you find your way to the kitchen.

Elias immediately goes for the wine, because he knows you better than anyone else.

“I asked my dad about the job,” Elias mentions casually, as if it’s not a big deal at all. “He thinks he can get you an interview.”

“Wait, what?”

Suddenly your heart is ticking in your throat. Before he left for Sweden, Elias had mentioned that his dad knows a guy who works for a similar company as you’re working for now: apart from the shitty boss you have or the ridiculous low salary you get paid. It’s your job, but better, and Elias promised you he’d get his dad to ask if there were any open positions.

There were. And you sent in your application not thinking there was gonna come much from it, but now…

Something warm washes through your chest, like your heart grew three sizes. Of course he asked, of course he made it happen. Looking out for you, always and at any time, from any distance.

“It’s not a done deal,” Elias warns, oblivious to your mental breakdown. “But he said he thinks they’ll like you and he’ll put in a good word for you.”

You squeal and throw yourself in his direction once again. Elias laughs as he catches you, fingers curling in your hair where your face is pressed against his chest.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“It’s about time you get rid of that dumb job.” You can hear the frown in Elias’ voice. “They don’t take good care of you at all, it’s not good for you.” The distaste is obvious and it’s adorable. You pull away.

“I don’t need them to,” you say, carefully. You can still hear Brock’s words in your voice, and you figure it’s worth a try, probably. “Because you’re always there to take care of me.”

Elias’ cheeks darken substantially.

“I mean it when I say I don’t know what I’d do without you, Elias.”

“You’d be fine,” Elias waves away the compliment as you figured he would. But this time you’re not backing down.

“Maybe I would be. But I wouldn’t be as happy.”

They say when you really love a person, you’ve got to show them. But you’ve never really known how to do that, instead you always use your words to tell them. But it seems like Elias isn’t believing you, not even now.

And you’ve got to fix that.

It’s not until you’re in Elias’ car on the way back home that you bring it up again. The party wasn’t really the time and place, but the conversation with Brock and the guys has been nagging in the back of your mind since it happened.

If you didn’t realize Elias’ acts of service meant something, maybe he doesn’t realize your words of affirmation mean something. And even if it doesn’t mean he’s in love with you – you’re really not that sure about that – you need him to at least know how much you appreciate him.

“You know I’m always there for you, right?” you start, carefully breaking the silence in the car. Elias shoots you a glance from behind the steering wheel.

“What?”

“Like, even if I’m maybe not as good as you are at realizing what you need me to do, if there’s ever anything I can do to help make your life a little easier or better I wanna do it. I’d do anything for you.”

It’s too honest, probably, and too much all at the same time. But Elias doesn’t look that surprised. In fact, there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You make my life better by just being you, Y/N. You don’t have to do anything for me.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you wonder how you’re gonna get through this conversation. But it’s one that needs to be held, so you press on.

“What is your love language, Elias?”

Now he frowns. “Have you been talking to Brock?”

Of course Brock talked to Elias before he talked to you. The traitor.

You decide to ignore that, for now. You’ll talk to Brock later.

“You know my love language is words of affirmation, right?”

Elias shrugs. “Brock did say that, but I didn’t know what you thought it was.”

“And yours is acts of service,” you hazard a guess. You keep your eyes firmly on Elias’ face, which is the only reason you catch the slight change in his expression.

Like a wall, crossing over his features. He’s trying to protect himself, although you have no idea why. Does he not get where you’re going with this?

“I can tune it down if you want me to,” he says, a little grumpily. He’s staring straight ahead at the road, stubbornly refusing to look your way.

And oh God, he’s truly not getting it, and this is going the exact opposite way you want it to go.

Troy did say that when people’s love languages don’t match, they don’t understand what the other is trying to say. But you honestly don’t know how you can make it any more clear to Elias.

Well, except…

“I love you,” you blurt out. “Like, in love with you love you.”

The words ring loudly in the quiet car. For a second, nothing about Elias’ expression, almost like he didn’t hear you. You can almost feel your heart sink into your stomach.

Then, he pulls over the car.

It comes to a stop at the side of the road, two wheels on the pavement and two still on the road. It is, objectively, not super safe, but it’s also 3am and there’s no other cars to be seen. Very carefully, without looking at you still, Elias turns on the hazard lights.

And then finally, finally, he turns to you and kisses you.

You weren’t expecting it but it doesn’t really matter: it’s like your heart and head both light on fire, and everything outside of the car simply disappears. It’s just you and Elias, and his lips on yours and his hands on your body.

It feels right. Like it was always meant to end up like this.

After what feels like ages, he pulls away. He’s smiling, and his eyes are bright blue in the dark car.

“I thought you said those kinda things to everyone,” he admits, quietly. His thumb is rubbing your side, his eyes fixed on that spot. Almost as if he can’t really believe he’s allowed to do that.

You don’t want him to ever do anything else.

“I thought you did those kinda things for everyone,” you shoot back.

Elias raises one eyebrow. “That bookcase weighed at least 300 pounds.”

You can’t help it: giggles are escaping your lips and suddenly you’re both laughing. The tension in the car dissipates instantly, and suddenly it’s just Elias again, your best friend.

Your best friend that you’re now allowed to kiss. So you lean in and press your lips against his again.

After all, kissing is a love language you think everyone understands.

(+2)

“I’m home!” Elias’ voice sounds through the empty apartment, and you immediately leave your spot behind the kitchen counter to run into the hallway.

With a squeal, you fly towards him, and he catches you easily as you knew he would.

“Hey, babe,” he laughs quietly, pressing a kiss into your hair before returning the hug fully. “Is that my sweater?”

“Maybe,” you admit, as Elias’ hands make their way under his own blue sweater, that you definitely steal from him most evenings. “Missed you. And I’m very proud of you.”

“I missed you too,” he answers. “Watched the game?”

“Obviously.” You roll your eyes, even though you know he can’t see it with your face still buried in his shoulder. “A hat trick, huh? I think that needs to be celebrated.”

“Oh?” Elias pulls away then, one eyebrow raised and a cheeky twinkle in his eyes.

“Not like that,” you scold him, lightly punching his arm. “Or, maybe like that. But first, I made Kalops.”

At the mention of his favorite Swedish food, Elias’ face lights up. A while ago, you asked his mom for her recipe and it’s one of the only Swedish dishes you can make, but you make it well.

“Also,” you continue, as you take his hand and start leading him towards the kitchen, so he can sit at the counter while you cook as he always does, “I called the electrician so the TV is already fixed. I know you could have done it, but I decided I’d much rather use that time to hang out with you. I took Puck to get his shots at the vet and I also used my free afternoon to take your car through the car wash.”

When you reach the kitchen, you twirl around towards Elias and his arms immediately circle around your waist.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he mutters, taking the opportunity to kiss you once more. “But thank you. I love that you took the time to take care of that for me. And I love you.”

“Look at us,” you tease, lightly tugging at the ends of Elias’ hair. “Speaking each other’s love language like that.”

“Perfect couple,” Elias agrees, and you smile back at him.

Somehow, you and Elias managed to create a language of your own: one that you could speak with nobody else. But luckily, you don’t have to.

Cause he came home to your shared apartment like he always does, and well. That’s the biggest act of service he could do for you.  

[walks-the-ages]

People in missing pets groups will be like "oh, here's a picture of my sweetie pie cat named Strawberry, I decided to make this post because they've been missing for three weeks! I think someone stole them, please let me know if you see my baby *crying emoji*

And then they go on to say that their cat is an outdoor-only cat who "usually comes home for food every other day" and "they never go far and wouldn't hurt a fly!" And "they totally know how to cross the street safely, in fact they don't ever go near it!"

And then they go on to say that they live in a house that not only faces an extremely busy main road where deer and racoons are often hit and killed, but also backs onto a huge forest/wetland area in an area that is full of alligators, hawks, eagles, cottonmouths, and other dangers.

Like, sorry, but your cat is dead.

You literally have no one but yourself to blame for this situation.

Then there's the opposite side of the spectrum-- the people who see a cat on the street and take pictures hoping someone will say it's their lost cat, naively ignoring just how many feral and "outdoor" cats live in just the square area of a Walmart parking lot (25+), let alone the entire area that the entire city takes up. But at least these people care, and don't want the cats on the streets.

[steves-on-a-plane]

Trending Cap

Words: 843 Pairing: Sam Wilson X Reader Also Staring: Bucky Barnes Summary: When Reader finds out Sam, as the new Captain America, isn't planning on doing anything special to celebrate 4th of July she suggests he recreates a viral TikTok trend. With the help of Reader and Bucky, Sam adds his own twist to the trend to great success.

“So, what are you doing for the fourth, Sam Eagle?” You asked the newly minted Captain America. You tossed yourself onto his couch and made yourself comfortable in his Washington, DC apartment.

“Who the hell is Sam Eagle?” Sam laughed.

“He’s a Muppet.” Bucky supplied as he walked into the kitchen carrying a six pack of beers. “He’s an eagle Muppet who’s whole personality is freedom and loving America. You have wings and you’re Captain America now. Also, your name is Sam. It’s a very funny joke.” He assured.

“Now you expect me to believe you know who the Muppets are?” Sam shook his head as Bucky began packing his beers into the fridge.

“I have a television in my apartment.” Bucky reminded him.

“To answer your question, [Y/N], this is what I’m doing. Sarah’s taking the boys off on a long weekend trip so I invited my two friends over and I’m going to cook some food, we’re going to hang out.” Sam shrugged. “What more could I want?”

“Ok, but I meant more like what are you doing as Captain America?” You clarified. “Like I know Steve used to go way over the top because it was his birthday and all, but are you not even going to post like a Cap meme or TikTok dance or anything?”

“A TikTok dance?” Sam chuckled.

“Why not?” You shrugged. “Maybe not a dance, but there’s this audio that’s been getting pretty popular.”

You reached for your phone which was dangling precariously off the edge of Sam’s coffee table. You opened the TikTok app and searched for the audio you wanted. Once you found it you played it for Bucky and Sam. The Audio started with the Star-Spangled Singer’s singing the verse of The Star Spangled Man with a Plan, the song from Steve’s old USO shows. Once the audio reached the line “We can’t ignore there’s a front and a war we must win” the background music changed to a more modern beat mixed with Sam’s very recent speech “I know there are millions of people who are going to hate me for it. Even now, here, I feel it. The stares, the judgement, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. And I’m still here. No super serum. No. Blonde hair or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better.”

“The trend is sort of a way to celebrate you as the new Cap.” You explained. “What most people do is they’ll do something like wear 1940’s fashion until the part where the music changes and then they switch to modern clothes. There are also some pretty impressive cosplays on here with homemade suits. For those typically its someone who starts out in a replica Steve suit and ends in a replica of yours. Usually they’ll act all hokey and exaggerated during the first bit and switch to a very serious lip-sync when it gets to the Captain Sam part.”

“[Y/N]’s right.” Bucky commented as he scrolled through TikTok on his own phone. “Walker might not be the only one you have to fight for the shield. These are some pretty impressive…what did you call them?”

“Cosplayers.” You supplied.

“Dress up people.” Bucky nodded.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” Sam nodded. “But the two or you have to help me.”

“Perfect! I’ve always wanted to raid your closet!” C’mon Buck, you can be my onset 1940s fashion consultant.” You dragged him towards Sam’s bedroom.

“[Y/N]! Don’t even think about taking one of my flannel shirts!” Sam called after you.

“Two shirts it is then!” You shouted back.

With Bucky’s help you were able to piece together a presentable 1940s stye outfit from Sam’s closet. The outfit consisted of Khaki slacks, a brown belt, brown leather shoes and a brown and beige stripped shirt. The collar wasn’t exactly wide enough for the time, Bucky wanted to point out, but it would do in a pinch. Luckily the wallpaper in the living room of Sam’s apartment looked ancient. It probable hadn’t been updated since the 1920’s let alone the 40s.

So, you positioned Sam in a corner of the room where most of his modern amenities were out of sight and filmed him dancing and mouthed along to the Star Spangled Man song. When the music stopped you stopped filming. Sam changed most of the way into his cap suit. He gave you the signal and you began filming. Sam added on pieces to his outfit, like his wings, and his goggles while repeating his speech. When he reached his final line “I believe we can do better.” He looked directly into the camera. You held his gaze for a second before cutting off the recording.

“People are going to love it, Sam.” You told him confidently.

“We’ll see I guess.” He took his phone from you and added his own caption to the video. “Wanted to get in on the trend. Have a safe and happy 4th of July.” He added in a few hashtags before posting the video.

“Now will the two of you let me enjoy the rest of my day in peace?” Sam asked setting his phone down.

“I don’t know, I kind of want to see you make a Sam Eagle TikTok now that [Y/N] has put that idea in my head.” Bucky announced.

“This is my place.” Sam reminded you both. “I can kick you out any time.”

“I was promised cold beer and free food. I’m not leaving until I get both.” Bucky insisted. “And don’t bother asking if I’d throw hands with Captain America because we both know you wouldn’t be the first or even the second to find out that answer is yes.” Bucky sat down on the couch you’d once occupied. Sam had a witty retort prepped and ready to fire, but his phone began to buzz in his hand.

“Our TikTok’s got a like.” He shared proudly. His phone buzzed again. “Oh another one!”

“There’s a few comments too.” Bucky said. “’Welcome to the App Cap’ and ‘It’s the 40’s fit for me.’ [Y/N], what does fit mean?”

Within minutes Sam’s phone was booming with notifications. They were happening so frequently he had to set the sound to completely silent just so he could hear himself think. There were a few negative comments. Someone had dredged out the classic “Not My Cap” hashtag, but overall the response was positive. After twenty-four hours the video had over 500 thousand likes and ten thousand comments.

“[Y/N], you want a job as my social media/PR?” Sam jokingly texted you the next morning. “But seriously, it was a good idea. Thanks for the assist.”

“Anything for you, Cap.” You replied back. “You can pay me back with dinner next Saturday night. I’m still dreaming of last night’s dinner. Oh also, I stole a flannel from your closet.” You added a winking emoji before sending Sam a photo of you wearing his flannel shirt.

“It’s yours.” He replied. “That shirt’s never looked so good.”

“I can think of one place it might look better. You’re floor.” You sent, trying to sound flirty.

“That’s probably where you found it in the first place.” He messaged back with a series of laugh emojis. “You can return it if you want.”

“You’re so oblivious!” You told him with an eyeroll emoji. “The shirt is mine, and…” But before you could send another reply a new message from Sam came through.

“I’m just joking. Are you free tomorrow for dinner?” He wanted to know.

“We just had dinner together yesterday.” You reminded him.

“Now who’s oblivious? You have to eat every day don’t you? And Bucky wont be at this dinner.” He texted back all in one message.

“Ohhhhhh.” You typed several extra ‘H’s to emphasize your realization. “I’ll see you at 6, your place.”

[blue-heronstairs10]

S&S quotes I tabbed

*SIEGE AND STORM SPOILERS*

key:

{…} = thoughts

(…) = my commentary

*…* = action

emojis = expressions

[…] = subtitles

italics = it’s italisized in the books

-…- = not actually said in book

——————————————————————————————————

Darkling: you two have a bad habit of acting like fools and calling it heroic.

——————————————————————————————————

Ivan: I don’t think-

Sturmhond: clearly. why start now?

——————————————————————————————————

Sturmhond: I don’t like to see prisoners mistreated, but that’s as far as my interest goes.

——————————————————————————————————

Sturmhond: and I’m notoriously immune to tales of woe. so unless your story involves a talking dog, I don’t want to hear it. does it?

——————————————————————————————————

Alina to Mal: you require a lot of coddling.

——————————————————————————————————

Nikolai: I am Nikolai Lantsov, Major of the Twenty Second Regiment, Soldier of the King’s Army, Grand Duke of Udova, and second son to His Most Royal Majesty, King Alexander the Third, Ruler of the Double Eagle Throne, may his life and reign be long.

Alina and the soldiers: -who da fawk da wut- 👁👄👁

——————————————————————————————————

Tamar: my brother snores like a drunk bear.

Alina: Mal snores, too.

Tamar: they can perform a duet.

——————————————————————————————————

[Tamar better be gay: the sequel]

Tamar: he’s handsome, the tracker.

Alina: *eye roll* you don’t say.

Tamar: not my type, but handsome.

Alina: *surprised because Mal was just about everyone’s type*

——————————————————————————————————

[Tamar better be gay: the sequel]

Nadia: I like her. *looks wistfully at Tamar* she’s fearless.

Botkin: fearless is other word for stupid.

——————————————————————————————————

Alina: are you saying you want to be the captain of my personal guard? 😏

Mal: do I get to wear a fancy hat?

Alina: the fanciest. and possibly a cape.

Mal: will there be plumes?

Alina: oh, yes. several.

——————————————————————————————————

Mal: you heard Prince Perfect.

Nikolai: I’ve had a lot of nicknames, but that one is easily the most accurate.

——————————————————————————————————

Alina: Mal, I put a hole in the ceiling.

Mal: a very dramatic hole.

——————————————————————————————————

Alina: quite a show. just how many people does it take to bring down a few boar?

Mal: this is nothing. another group of servants left before dawn to set up the camp. Saints forbid a prince of Ravka should be kept waiting on a hot cup of tea.

*horn blows*

Mal: those boar had better be deaf.

——————————————————————————————————

Alina: and you’re like a big brown hawk?

Mal: exactly.

Alina: or an overlarge pigeon?

Mal: let’s stick with the hawk.

——————————————————————————————————

Alina: do you think the Darkling had to deal with unwanted advances from wet-lipped royals?

Mal: *snicker*

Alina: what’s so funny?

Mal: I just pictured the Darkling being cornered by a sweaty duchess trying to have her way with him.

——————————————————————————————————

Alina: I’ve never met a man who can say so much without saying anything at all.

——————————————————————————————————

Alina: it’s because you actually care about what happens to this country. the throne is just a prize to Vasily, something he wants to squabble over like a favorite toy. you’re not like that. you’ll make a good king.

Nikolai: I...thank you.

Alina: you’re going to be insufferable now, aren’t you?

Nikolai: I’m already insufferable.

——————————————————————————————————

David: if it works, it will be plenty dramatic. and I suppose that if it doesn’t work, it will be even more dramatic, what with the blast.

Alina: David, I think you just made a joke.

David: *confused frowning* did I?

——————————————————————————————————

——————————————————————————————————

Mal: *kisses Zoya 🙄*

Alina: *runs away dramatically (as she should tbh)*

*fast forward through the sappy dramatics*

Alina: I don’t know if they’re visions or visitations. I didn’t tell you because I think I might be going mad. and because I think you’re already a little afraid of me.

Mal: * 😮 🚶🏽‍♂️💨*

——————————————————————————————————

Alina: I went among the pilgrims this morning.

Nikolai: I think I must have misheard you.

Alina: I’m fine.

Tamar: she was almost killed.

Alina: but I wasn’t. 😼

Nikolai: are you completely out of your mind? those people are fanatics. how could you let her do something like that?

Tamar: I didn’t.

Nikolai: tell me you didn’t go alone.

Alina: I didn’t go alone.

Tamar: she went alone.

Alina: Tamar, shut up. Nikolai, I told you, I’m fine.

——————————————————————————————————

Nikolai: Alina, that’s what heroes do.

Alina: I don’t want him to be a hero!

Nikolai: he can’t change who he is any more than you can stop being Grisha.

Alina: *acknowledges then ignores her hypocrisy*

——————————————————————————————————

Alina: {Genya cringing away from David like a frightened animal. Luminous Genya, with her alabaster skin and graceful hands. Resilient Genya, who had endured countless indignities and insults, but who had always held her lovely chin high. Foolish Genya, who had tried to be my friend, who had dared show me mercy.}