#let me have my 12-year-old humor

[bberetd]

WHO SCRIPTED THIS GAME

[medichamcham]

once i reach 69 followers on here none of you are allowed to follow me. this blog shall be off limits forever ever . sorry

[svmjaeyvn]

hidden love, l.hs

synopsis: there were two things that park jongseong reiterated to you growing up.

1: he was the better, funnier, smarter, awesomer sibling and always would be, and 2: you were to never, ever, fall for any guys like his friends, literally and figuratively.

the first was a lie, one you always rolled your eyes at and the second was something 12-year-old you always agreed to without hesitation. but with time, they soon both became a fib from your lips, 14-year-old you coming to the disastrous realization that boys weren't as icky as you once thought and your older brother's best friend had the prettiest smile (when he wasn't being annoying.) as you continued to grow older, those fluttering emotions grew as well, even with him heading off to university it seemed to leave you with a sense of longing, happier than ever when he'd visit.

until you were 16 and he came home with a girl, one that was far prettier than you were able to compete with in your head and nice enough to be a saint. your hopeless, devastating one-sided crush was forced to be swallowed without much pride, though it held no avail until you dramatically decided to never speak to heeseung again. and it worked, ignoring all his calls and texts, avoiding your family home like the plague whenever your brother was home for break if he was visiting, and simply acting entirely clueless in the unfortunate circumstances that you did end up caught by him, chalking it up to dramatic teenage hormones.

once you reached the age of it being your turn to head to college, you signed up for every exchange program possible, leaving you traveling the world for three years that passed with no contact and your once-upon-a-time crush nearly forgotten. that was until you came back home, finally settling to finish uni and all of a sudden you were a kid again, fawning over your brother's best friend who didn't know how to leave you alone. this time though, heeseung didn't see you as that annoying kid who followed jay around, he saw you for you which scared him so much more with how you've grown and nothing was worse than him feeling something for his best friend's off-limits little sister.

featuring: lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon, nishimura riki, kim sunoo, yang jungwon, hanni pham, kim chaweon, yoon keeho, yoon yechan

status: writing. start: 03/30/24. end: tba.

genre: non-idol!au, college/young adult!enha, heeseung x reader, slight age gap (4 years), brothers best friend trope

content & warnings: age gap??? (slightly questionable morality but no romantic feelings or grooming since they end up with no contact for years until adulthood), cursing, drinking, all that jazz, innuendos, sexual humor, suggestive content, possible smut, forbidden relationship, sneaking around, overprotective jay, jay tries to fight heeseung cause duh, crazy exs, stalker mention, slow burn since they're both in denial, heeseung kind of toxic mentality which is forced to be fix, angst but fluffy ending (?)

a/n: based off the cdrama. watched it months ago but shit had me giggling and kicking my feet even if it's cliche. heeseung is so forbbidden older love coded i had to. im trying to make this a oneshot so well see how long it is,,,,,,, the plot will develop from when they were kids to adulthood to provide some background. once the actual romance starts heeseung will be 24 and reader will be 20 (the year will be 2025). all my drafts and writing has been about jake so im branching out (i love my man tho so he'll have his moments here). anyway! lets see how long it takes me to finish up this one

word count: 6k (as of now)

taglist: closed! (86 of you have responded omg)

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Asshole Instructor

Luke Castellan x Jackson!Reader

Request: luke x jackson!reader angst to fluff like he likes reader but bullies her and like one day she almost dies and then he feels so guilty and confesses

Summary: Luke has been an asshole but he can't help it until he realizes the girl he likes could be gone any minute

Warning: Angst, bullying, Luke acting like a five year old, monsters, injuries

Word Count: 1.5K

Masterlist

A/N I tweaked your request a bit so the story flows more imo

“Faster,” I yelled at one of our newest campers. Y/N Jackson dropped her sword and ripped off her helmet, looking at me with fury in her eyes. I was a little afraid but mostly really attracted to her like this.

“Don’t fu-”

“Hey, we don’t curse,” I reminded her of the camp rules. “What with all the kids around.” Seeing her become even angrier made it so hard not to laugh. I was just glad that we weren’t near any bodies of water. When I had told her that her 12 year old brother was a better fighter than her at dinner, every glass of water rose up in the air she was so mad.

She just threw the sword down and stormed off. “Hey!” I yelled after her. “You’re not dismissed.” But she ignored me, continuing to storm off towards the beach. I felt a pang of guilt antagonizing her to the point that she left but I figured I shouldn’t chase after her if she was going to be around water. Plus, it was funny to see her get so mad.

I turned around the clean up the arena only to see Annabeth standing there looking unimpressed. “Why are you being so mean to her?” she asked.

“I’m not, I'm just messing around.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you’re antagonizing her. And I think I know why,” she smirked.

“Why?” I asked, deciding to humor her.

“Because you looove her,” she replied smugly, drawing out ‘love.’

“I do not,” I immediately defended. I cringed as my response was too fast. She only gave me a satisfied smirk. “Fine, okay. She’s pretty, I’ll give you that.” Annabeth just raised her eyebrow. “And smart,” I admitted. She kept looking at me. “And nice.” More looks. “Fine! Whenever I see her I want to kiss her and never let her out of my sight.”

A smile broke out on her face, finally satisfied. “See? Now go tell her that. Well- maybe not that exactly. You’ll probably scare her off. But tell her how you feel instead of harassing her and making her hate you.”

My heart stopped. “She hates me?”

“Probably!” Annabeth said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Or at least she will if you keep treating her so terribly.”

“Fine, I’ll apologize to her after dinner,” I sighed.

“No! Now,” she demanded.

“But she’s at the beach. She’ll kill me!”

“I don’t care. Go,” she said, pointing down the beach. “And take this to her.”

I grumbled, grabbing her helmet from Annabeth before heading after the daughter of Poseidon. When I finally found her she was sitting near a cluster of rocks, clearly trying not to be noticed by anyone. But as I prepared to tell her how I felt but as I looked at her, I thought about all the horrible ways she could reject me. And then humiliate me by telling everyone in camp about it. So instead I threw the helmet at her.

It bounced off the rock with a clang, clearly startling her. “What? Are you gonna cry because I told you, you sucked. What are you 5?”

“Go away, Luke,” she yelled. I once again felt a pang in my chest as I heard the trembling in her voice. Whether from rage or tears I wasn’t quite sure. But picturing her laughing in my face as she rejected me made me keep going.

“I see why your dad went back to your mom. He couldn’t have his only demigod child in decades be so weak like you.”

“I said go away!” she yelled, standing up. Her eyes were practically on fire as she looked at me with a burning glare. The ocean was getting choppier behind her before it lunged up into a huge wave, soaking me to the bone. I coughed when it finally receded and she was left there, standing dry. “Leave me alone or I’ll stuff you in a sewer pipe,” she threatened, walking off.

~

When I told Annabeth what happened she threatened to stuff me in a sewer pipe. But other than that she let it go and I hadn’t seen much of Y/N. Which hurt at times because I missed seeing her and I thought about her all the time but I honestly deserved that threat she gave me so I respected her wishes.

That was until I heard a scream and then a boy’s desperate yell. I was in the arena when I heard it and didn’t hesitate running towards the sound. There I found Percy and his sister at the edge of the forest. Percy was frantically pushing on his sister’s bleeding leg as she was getting visibly paler. He looked up, seeing me. “Do something!” he yelled.

I ran over, kneeling by her side. I could now see the wound clearly and it was deep. Deep enough to kill her from blood loss. She already had a puddle underneath her and I could see a trail coming from the woods. “Go get Chiron,” I told the boy. He nodded, getting up to sprint to the Big House.

I looked at Y/N’s face, surprised to see her still conscious. “Surprised you’re not cutting me further open,” she said through shallow breaths.

“Look, I’m sorry I’ve treated you like shit and I promise I’ll explain why when you’re better but I need you to focus on staying awake right now. Think you can do that?”

Despite the fact that my hands were keeping her from bleeding out she had the audacity to roll her eyes. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” I breathed. I felt ashamed realizing that was probably the first nice thing I had ever said to her.

Once some Apollo kids came and took her the Big House I went with them. But once they had her in the sickroom and everyone else was kicked out, I became wracked with guilt and worry. I made her life miserable. Why? Because I was afraid of my own feelings for her? I realized just how ridiculous that was. And I realized how little time I may have to actually confess my feelings.

“What happened, Percy?” Chiron’s words interrupted my thoughts.

“We were in the forest just trying to get some monster fighting experience when this big… dog—I think it was a hellhound—jumped at me out of nowhere. I guess she saw it first because she pushed me out of the way but its claws caught her leg,” Percy explained. “Is she going to be alright?” he asked, tears in his wide eyes.

“Yes, she should be fine,” Chiron assured the boy before sending a reassuring look to me too. Did everyone know I liked her? I briefly cursed Annabeth, she probably told him.

But soon enough Lee and Michael said we could go in so I followed Percy into the room. Her leg was wrapped in a pristine white bandage and the sheets must have been changed because they were also white in contrast to her bloody shirt and shorts.

“Percy, why don’t you go get her some clothes for when she wakes up?” I suggested. He looked reluctant but went anyway so I could talk to her. I took a seat by her head, observing her peaceful, beautiful face. “I don’t know if you can hear me but… at least you can’t reject me like this,” I said, letting out an empty chuckle. “But um I guess I'm fulfilling my promise. The reason I’ve been such an asshole to you is because… well… I think I’m in love with you. And I was afraid of my feelings and that you’d reject me so I took it out on you and I’m sorry for that. You didn’t deserve that.”

I sat there for a beat of silence, unsure what to do. But just before I stood up and left, I felt her fingers brush against mine. “Took you long enough to confess, jerk,” she said. I looked back at her, finding the slightest smile and her gorgeous eyes.

“So… you like me too?” I asked, my heart pounding with insecurity.

“Yeah, of course I do,” she admitted. I smiled, leaning down to press my lips to hers. When I pulled away to breathe she took the opportunity to speak. “If you tell anyone I’ll stuff you in a sewer pipe.”

“Sure you will,” I taunted her, connecting our lips again. This time I only pulled away when I heard a slightly squeaky voice.

“What are you doing with my sister?”

Masterlist

[devonpink]

In His Father's Shoes

With bated breath, Timothy tiptoed into the family's home office. Hoping to find his stashed birthday present, but instead found his father, Tim. Tim's smug expression made it clear Timothy's entrance was expected.

"Don't even bother pretending to be surprised this time, Jr. I catch you every year trying to sneak a peek at your birthday present." Tim snickered.

Timothy laughed. "Fine. Fine. So, what's the punishment, old man?"

"No punishment," Tim said plainly. "In fact, I'm going to reward your childishly devious behavior. You can have your present early this year."

Timothy beamed with surprise. "What!? Really!?"

Tim's expression got even smugger. With one foot, he gently pushed his kicked-off and well-polished dress shoes in front of his son. "Happy birthday, Jr."

Timothy's expression quickly went from joyous anticipation to disappointed confusion. "Your… shoes? That's my present?! You're joking, right!?"

"Try them on." Tim teased, pushing the shoes closer to Timothy.

Timothy's confusion only grew as he looked down at his father's, well, his new shoes.

"Where's the enthusiasm? Where's the gratitude?" Tim teased even further.

Timothy sighed, slightly smirking and jokingly rolling his eyes. "Fine, I'll humor you, old man. But I better get my real present after!"

With a raised eyebrow of suspicion, Timothy slipped his bare size 9 feet into his father's size 12 dress shoes. The shoes clearly hadn't been off his father's feet long - warm like a heated blanket. Oddly, the warmth was comforting to Timothy.

"How are they, Jr?" Tim teased.

Timothy exaggerated the look of confusion on his face. "Strange… they're a little too big for me."

"You can't fool me, Jr." Tim teased, slightly less playful this time. "You love them."

"Okay, Dad. No more fooling around. Where's my real-" Timothy lost all thought, silenced by a faint voice suddenly popping into his head. "He's right. You do love them. You could easily spend all day standing here in your father's shoes… your shoes."

"You look a little tense all of a sudden, Jr." Tim teased. "You're hanging out with your old man. Nothing stressful about that. Just relax."

"He's right. Your father is always right. Relax. Relax. Relax." the voice droned, this time louder than before. The word "Relax" echoed through Timothy's mind, making it hard to concentrate on anything else. Suddenly, Timothy felt as if he had just gotten done having a full body massage - every inch of him utterly relaxed.

"There, much better." Tim relished in his son's newly calm expression. "You feel nothing but relaxed. Too relaxed to think. Too relaxed to do anything but stand there. Let all thought dissipate. Let it all evaporate. Clear your mind completely. Let my words be the only thing that resides within your mind."

"No thoughts of your own. Only fathers. Only fathers. Only fathers." the voice rang throughout Timothy's head, erasing all apprehension. He felt blank. Empty and still, like a statue.

Tim maliciously smirked. "My words are truth. My words are your reality. Do you know why, Jr? Because I'm your father. I made you. I'm your creator, your god."

"He made you. He created you. You're his son, his creation. He owns you. Owns your body. Owns your mind." the voice droned, no longer resembling a stranger but his very own inner voice. Suddenly, Timothy was washed over by a wave of faith, deifying his father in his mind.

Tim looked his unmoving son up and down, grinning like a supervillain, enjoying every second of his son's blank expression. Trying to contain his laughter as Timothy began to drool. "You know, those shoes are a little big on you." he teased, his eyes now on the perfectly-polished dress shoes. "Big shoes require big feet. Size 12 feet."

"Size 12 feet. Size 12 feet. Size 12 feet." Timothy's new inner voice droned. His feet vibrated, slowly expanding and widening, stopping only when his feet fit perfectly into the shoes.

"Much, much better." Tim smiled, but his satisfied smile only lasted for a moment. "Hmm, now your feet are almost too big for your body, Jr! Big feet belong on a tall, meaty body."

"Tall. Meaty. Tall. Meaty. Tall. Meaty." Timothy's inner voice droned. His ankles pulsed, spreading up through his entire body. His clothes tore as his legs stretched and thickened; torso broadened; butt swelled; chest expanded; neck and arms bulked. Timothy was now as tall and wide as his father.

"Perfect. Simply perfect." Tim was beyond thrilled with his son's new and improved physique. "Hmm, that baby face of yours doesn't quite match your new masculine physique, does it, Jr? A strong, masculine face is what a masculine body requires. A face like mine. My face."

"Father's face. Father's face. Father's face." Timothy's inner voice droned. His face pulsed, losing all sense of boyishness as it morphed into chiseled statuesque perfection. His wavy hair receded, leaving it short and more mature. His face now resembled his father's exactly - a mirror image.

"Perfect. However, Do you know what should come from such a manly face? A deep, manly voice. A voice like mine. My voice." Tim scoffed.

"Father's voice. Father's voice. Father's voice." Timothy's inner voice droned. His newly thickened neck vibrated, significantly jutting his Adam's apple.

"Let's hear that new manly voice in action, shall we, Jr?" Tim teased. "Speak, boy."

"Sir, yes, Sir." Timothy expressionlessly stated. His voice now identically resembled his father's - deep, rugged, and undoubtedly manly.

Tim's satisfactory smirk returned. "Perfection." He got up from his chair and walked up to his son. He softly caressed his son's newly chiseled jawline with his index finger, examining him like a freshly chiseled statue. He then looked directly into his son's eyes. "You may look empty, but I know you're still in there, Jr."

Timothy looked like he checked out long ago, but, in reality, he'd been watching from afar. Locked away in the empty darkness. Trapped in his own mind - a helpless observer. Forced to watch himself be converted into his father's likeness.

Tim maniacally grinned, once aging, gazing back down at the perfectly polished dress shoes his new and improved son was wearing. "You know what they say about big feet, Jr.: Big feet. Big meat."

"Big feet. Big meat. Big feet. Big meat. Big feet. Big meat." Timothy's inner voice droned. His crotch vibrated, swelling and growing. His already torn pants tore more as his cock released itself. He now had a thick, juicy member between his legs: just like his father - exactly like his father.

"Perfect!" Tim sat back down in his chair. He looked his son up and down once more, prideful in his work. "Now, you resemble me completely. However, the body must match the mind, Jr. My body. My mind."

"Father's body. Father's mind. Father's body. Father's mind. Father's body. Father's mind." Timothy's inner voice droned. Suddenly, he has flooded with his father's interests and personality. Far back in the darkness, Timothy felt himself disappearing - not evaporating but sinking. Falling further into darker nothingness as his father's mind replaced his own.

"Sink, boy," Tim commanded. "Lose yourself to me. Feel yourself drain into your balls. Fill them. Swell them with your essence."

Timothy sunk further, now melting into his balls. Losing all sense of humanity as he morphed into thick, hot cum. Timothy's cock stiffened as his balls swelled with his old self. A small part of himself still hung on by a thread.

"Let go, boy," Tim commanded, his malicious grin beaming ear to ear.

Timothy's newly low-hanging swelled balls pulsed. The small part of Timothy that remained filled with dread, as he knew his time was soon up. His newly-thick member stiffened to an uncomfortable degree, ready to fire off at any moment.

"Cum!" Tim demanded.

With that came a massive load. What was left of Timothy's mind jettisoned out onto the floor. Timothy was now nothing but a sticky mess on the home office carpet. With a moan of gleeful satisfaction, Tim pressed his beautifully shaped, perfectly adorned foot into the puddle of his son's expelled essence. He wiggled his toes around, absorbing his son into his warm, sweaty dress socks - enriching the masculine scent of his godly size 12 feet. Timothy was gone. All that remained was Tim.

[dollypopup]

that 'have you ever been punished as a child?' line Pen drops hits different when you realize that in the books, Colin was horsewhipped by his father the morning before he died and then went to Eton where they literally had something called 'flogging Fridays' during the time he attended

like Julia, Miss. Quinn, what do you mean you just threw that information in as a random throwaway line that is never mentioned again? do you not realize how WILD that makes Colin's background?

He was twelve years old??? His dad saw him hitting Eloise and then horsewhipped him, and after horsewhipping his twelve. year. old. son. he then goes to comfort Eloise by taking a walk with her and the bee stings him and he fucking dies

Colin would be out here blaming himself for that death forever are you kidding me???? Wondering if he didn't hit his sister (when they're children playing together), would his Dad still be alive? Would he still have gone on that walk? Would he still have passed away as Colin sat sobbing in the stables, hurt by his hand?

And then he goes to Eton where the only time he had off was 3 weeks around Christmas, but still has to stay there, and 3 weeks in the summer when he can finally go home to Aubrey Hall?

This timeline is BONKERS. Like. . .we know Edmund dies not too long before Hyacinth is born, and she's born May/June. Colin's birthday? Yeah, it's in March. So you mean to tell me, the order of events of all this mess could be as followed: Edmund horsewhips Colin when he's 12 years old (sometime before March), he DIES that same day, Colin turns 13 (in March), Hyacinth is born (in June), and not a few months later Colin has to go to Eton (after the summer break. Social season is Spring and Summer, and ends either July or August, so let's be merciful here and say he leaves in August) and doesn't come back for an entire year?

You mean to tell me this boy has had what? Half a year to get over his father's death after he whipped him for a minor infraction and then he's waltzing into an institution where canings and whippings and floggings and bullying are the norm when he's a teeny tiny little boy?

How is this man not filled to the GILLS with trauma???? No wonder he's so close to his mum and listens to the women around him more than the men and never talks about his dad. And he still turns out so nice and empathetic and kindhearted? He still listens so much to Pen and is so gentle with her and has a good sense of humor and cares so deeply?

That man is never raising a hand to their children. He probably won't even raise his voice at their children. Oh my god.

[lilislegacy]

Percy doing a little bit (or a lot) of everything

i know everyone won’t agree with this future for him, but humor me

percy in college figuring out that he doesn’t want to be stuck in a lab, but he wants to make a difference. he can talk to animals. he wants to use that ability for good. he wants to help animals in some way

percy wanting to become a veterinarian for aquatic animals. he doubts himself, becasue it takes someone smart and hard-working, but annabeth has full faith in him. and he finds he actually really likes learning about how sea animals function, and how to help them. once he’s a vet, he knows he made the right choice. he loves going to work every day, wherever that is. an aquarium, a marine clinic, the ocean, it doesn’t matter. he listens to the animals and helps them in a way that no other vet on earth can. his co-workers call him the animal whisperer. (which he finds funny, because he’s not whispering, just having a normal semi-telepathic conversation)

while he’s preparing for vet school, percy has an experience that makes him begin to take notice of people and animals dying in fires. he figures “i’m fire resistant. i can control water. im strong. i think quick on my feet… i can help.” so throughout vet school, he’s a firefighter. he loves it. he gets to save people every day. he gets action. he thrives. he saves so many lives. he even takes ownership of the fire house’s new dog - a dalmatian-shepherd mix. he says it’s just for a bit, but the dog ends up as his and annabeth’s family pet (which annabeth totally knew would happen). but he loves being a firefighter. it makes him feel like he’s using his abilities to help people, not just kill endless amounts of monsters. he actually feels like a real hero this way.

percy becoming certified as a professional diver so he can do deep sea rescues, for animals mainly, but he ends up doing human rescues too. in tragedies like the thai cave rescue, he’s there. he’s the pro diver on call for an emergency - human or animal related. he’ll dive any depth to save a life. he’ll even just do it to help researchers, or historians, or anyone, really. and he never charges much, if anything at all.

percy volunteering as a marine wildlife rescuer. he’ll answer a call, day or night. he’ll help get a shark off the beach, cut rope off of a whale, save sea turtles caught in a net. it doesn’t matter, he’s there. and it’s nothing new for him.

percy maybe even writhing a book or two over the course of his life.

percy going on some boat expeditions, which he always leads.

percy maybe even one day teaching, when he’s older and his kids are grown. whether it’s 12 year olds with dyslexia or whether he’s teaching a college class on aquatic animals or greek history. he’d be good at it. he’s patient.

percy doing multiple great things throughout his life. percy using his experiences and abilities for good. percy not letting his past - being kicked out of every school, making bad grades, being thought of as stupid - define him. not letting his past stop him.

percy doing a little bit (or a lot) of everything. becasue he can. becasue he’s alive. becasue he’s talented. becasue he’s intelligent. and because he has a huge heart.

and he has the most supportive partner in the whole world.

percy thriving in life.

[disappointmentofthefam]

Love? Love. (part 2)

Andy Barber x Reader

warnings-age gap,slow burn,smut

i hope yall enjoy this, i wrote it from the pit of despair.

p.s.- i promise you dom daddy andy is cumming soon ;)

..................................................................................................................

The night following the fateful events of Andy sweating like a damn teenager after meeting y/n had resulted in restless sleep sprinkled with incessant thoughts of her. Did she have a boyfriend? hmm that would be bad But the thought of her being available is somehow worse damn it Andrew! You are not a silly little boy anymore, you are a grown ass man and you can talk to a girl without giggling and kicking your feet in the air! As the morning rolled in, it seemed like Andy's prayers were answered as a smiling Y/n was once again at his doorstep. she looked different in the morning, somehow more majestic.Still in her sleep shorts and her hair in a messy bun. lips looked plumper somehow, hints of slumber still in her eyes. "Good morning Andy", she grumbles. " Good morning, angel," Andy tries to test the waters, "missed me so soon?" fuck! I sound like a creep! maybe I should jus- His thoughts are interrupted with a soft giggle, "Yes, Mr. Barber, you couldn't possibly fathom how hard it was for me to spend all that time away from you", she rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless. there's some truth to it, she couldn't exactly shrug of the feeling of….. um…. Andy from her heart and her mind and especially her pussy. the low vibrato of his voice was enough to cause her to flood with heat and arousal, "yes Andy! right there", His tongue lapping at my cilt I bet he's a fucking munch when it comes to eating out I bet he's a biter I bet he'd slap my face with it I bet he was one for holding me down and pounding me into the mattress I bet he'd cum in m- GIRL- IT'S 9 IN THE MORNING

She does that thing again, where she tries to divert her eyes from the man in front of her, "um, I think the mailman might have accidentally delivered our stuff to you." The sudden shyness in her demeanor doesn't go unnoticed by Andy's watchful eyes. "I just had Jacob bring in the mail, why don't you come in and make yourself comfortable while you sort through the stuff?", he ushers her inside. Jacob's eyes light up as he sees her, "Y/n! I was just thinking about you! my chemistry grades are sooooo tanked and i need your help", he looks at Andy, "Dad, would it be alright if y/n tutored me?" "Sure, Jake, I mean if she finds time in her schedule", they look at y/n for an answer. " Sure thing, I'm free by 6 p.m. on weekdays after classes, I think I could fit you in around…seven?" "Done", Jacob smiles at her as he grabs his school bag and slings it over his shoulder, " I'll see you tomorrow then? at seven?". "Yeah, at seven". " Bye dad, love you." "Love you too." With that Andy and Y/n fall into a comfortable silence as she sorts through the mail and separates the ones meant for her house. "Can i ask you something?" Andy breaks the silence. "You just did", y/n smirks at him. " Okay, smartass," Andy can't help but smile at her 12-year-old-boy-esquè-humor. "Can i ask you two things then, " Andy leans forward from opposite to her on the dining table, enjoying the back and forth between them. "Go ahead, jeez it's like a question paper come to life",y/n bites her lower lip in anticipation. Andy tries a more casual, less creepy approach, "How do you find the time to tutor after coming home from college? I mean you wouldn't have time for other things like for example, uhh a boyfriend." Y/n's cheeks turn red and she again diverts her attention from Andy, "I don't have one, Mr. Barber"

The admission makes Andy's stomach flutter with a sense of relief and something else…..a wave of pure and primal desire. She looks up at Andy with a flustered smile and lustful, hooded eyes, looking like the perfect mix of a nymph and a virgin, "is that what you wanted to know Andy? because let me tell you, you weren't being very subtle." she teases. "What if I did, sweets? What if I wanted to know if there was a limpy ,lacking frat boy who was doing nothing but disappointing you every time he touched you?" Andy's eyes go darker, the blue ring of his eyes being engulfed by his blown out pupils. "Well then Mr. Barber, let me tell you that i don't have any frat boys disappointing me at night," she leans in closer, so much that Andy can feel her warm breath on his lips, "what are you gonna do about it?" Almost.

This six letter word was the bane of Andy Barber's existence. She was so close, I could smell the faint smell of vanilla on her skin. She was so close, I could see the tiny freckles by her nose. She was so close, so, so close. Our lips almost touched Almost. Suddenly, the door opens and then shuts close and the sounds of progressing footsteps breaks them apart. "Hey, I just forgot my phone here." Jacob doesn't question the awkwardness in the room as he grabs his phone and leaves once again. In a frenzy, Y/n collects her mail and leaves for the door too, "I'm sorry if I overstepped Andy, I swear it won't happen again." Her voice small and choked, but I fucking hope it does happen again and again and again and again Amused by her nervousness, Andy tries to speak, but before he can get her attention, she has already left. Well she'd be here again at seven tomorrow, right?

[shuamorollss]

on the court — basketball player!nrk x fem!reader

You only wanted to support your older brother, Jake on his basketball game. Even how smoothly their game was going, you didn't expect that you'd be the reason why a few points have costed your brother's team. Not entirely your fault, of course.

fluff, romance, comedy, humor, warnings— not proofread/errors ahead, Ni-ki and Y/N share the same age, Y/N can drive a car, half-assed ending kinda... I tried my best, 2.3k wc + reblogs are greatly appreciated!

additional notes— Italicized parts means flashbacks , used the K-12 school system in this fic... to avoid confusion, Jake is a 6th year student (Senior high) which is he's along in the age of 20 yrs old and both Y/N and Riki are in their 4th year (Junior high) which makes them both 18 yrs old! , reader's brother was originally Heeseung so please point it out for me in my inbox if Heeseung's name is still mentioned here TT I might've missed a part , author's note at the end.

You could sense the bright contrast in between your closed eyes. Slowly going back to your full consciousness, you open your eyes. Widening the gap of your lids, everything was bright and rather blurry. You could feel yourself laying on a soft mattress. The room was white, though a figure of your current vision paved the way of the brightness. Your eyes immediately met with the dark figure just beside you, sitting. You wondered if it was Keeho, however, from what you remembered, he didn't look like that, nor dressed like that earlier.

As your vision becomes clearer, it was to your dismay that it really wasn't your friend beside you.

Someone who had short hair, subtle blonde streaks, and his face structure was sharp. He was wearing casual clothes now. Not the fit you remembered him wearing when you last lay your vision on him.

His brows rose in surprise as he had met his gaze with yours.

"You're awake!" he exclaimed.

You don't know who he was.

He was a stranger. A man, just someone whom you have never met. So how did you get yourself here, waking up from unconsciousness with an unfamiliar worried man beside you in the first place?

…

Your hands control the wheels as you try to drive hastily. Your friends were counting on you to get to the sports center in time, with numerous phone calls from Sieun, adding the endless vibrating from your phone already makes you feel the pressure. You didn't let yourself drown in your own thoughts. All you wanted was to get there in time and have enough space to get seats.

"Yn?!"

"Took you long enough."

You have finally met with Keeho and Sieun outside the stadium, both of them having their arms crossed, frustrated by your late entry.

"Sorry guys. Traffic." You gently rub your nape, letting out a nervous laugh.

"Traffic my ass." Sieun said, who started to make her way inside the stadium. Both you and Keeho followed along her steps as she rants about your tardiness. You didn't mind, you were used to Sieun complaining like this and instead of being irritated, and besides, she doesn't seem to take her rants about things like these that seriously.

All of you went into the inner stadium to see hundreds of people crowding inside, attempting to spot places to sit.

"Sieun calm down, besides we have seats now." Keeho assured. The seats you three in were beside the court. Like literally beside the court. You could see all the athletes clearly just a distance from you, preparing for the game.

"What a jackpot. Surprising for a really crowded stadium… This should've been occupied by now." Sieun stated, her frustrations on where to sit have now faded, now that the best seats are now taken by them.

After a good minute of prepping yourselves, you saw a man's figure on the court jogging towards your direction, and to all of your excitement, It was your brother.

"Jake!" You all greeted him in unison, eyes sparkling at the sight of the man making his way towards where you guys stand.

"You all should thank me for that." He spoke, patting his sweaty forehead with a face towel.

"Look at our Jake! The captain of the Decelis basketball team." Sieun stated, nudging the side of Jake's arms.

"We know you'll do good out there dude!" Keeho added.

"The opponent stands no chance against y'all." You added once more, your hand messing his hair.

"Now I'm more encouraged to beat their asses." Jake remarked, extremely appreciative by the boost from his little sister and his dear friends.

The three of you continue to show him your full support as he waves goodbye, jogging back to his teammates.

The Stadium was filled with people, all of the seats were occupied and the continuous echoes filling the stadium made you hyped. The two schools that are competing are none other than two of the most prestigious schools in your country, and given to you that this is the semifinals means there's more to it after this one.

And you wanted to see your school compete once more in the Grand Finals.

The game started and you cheered for Jake and his team. They were doing good, you were having a positive thought on this game however you'd already expect the other team to hog scores a few minutes into the match. Being that this is the semifinals, competition would be difficult.

You spent the whole game just yelling and cheering at any given time, to the point that you finally felt the sting on your throat, causing your voice to rasp and unable to reach your voice at a high volume. So instead of forcing your voice to yell, you just sat and watched the game quietly.

As you watch everyone, your eyes went from anyone else on your brother's team to only a certain teammate of his.

He was cute, even better at playing than Jake in your opinion.

His hair was elegant, even if he's sweaty, his hair looked like it's been newly washed, in basic terms, fresh even. His eyes were sinister yet looked so adorable.

Your eyes were locked onto his figure, and when he shot the ball you quickly stood up, screaming "Yeah!" with your distorted voice, not even considering your current sore throat.

Sieun and Keeho were too focused to notice that you started cheering for one player only. After all, their support was on the whole decelis basketball team, so they wouldn't send suspicious glances on your way.

After a few more rounds, with Decelis leading, an unexpected circumstance may have cost a few points off of Decelis.

And you weren't expecting that you would partly be the reason why.

You were just about to get your phone

As another Decelis member makes his way on the court, he stops just a few steps in front of you. Your eyes gazing at the man then back to the one you seem to have all the attention on, passing the ball to the guy in front of you.

You saw the ball getting tossed to the player in front of you, yet suddenly he dodges. You on the other hand, was unable to move at the exact time you see the ball going directly to you.

…

"So… that's what happened...?" You raised a brow. Sitting comfortably on the infirmary bed as you were just all ears on the whole story you got here.

The other nods guiltily, having his head lowered as he does so. Stealing glances on your way.

Your memories slowly gathered in your head, and the last thing you realized is that this was the man you had all your attention to earlier during the game.

Your mind sets elsewhere other than the worrisome point of the whole predicament, you were giggling in your conscience that this was destined to happen… Of course, you had delusions get the best of you, though you were still able to show a calm and collected demeanor.

"I'm so sorry by the way, I didn't mean to," He took a deep breath, "I was surprised when Yeonjun dodged it. I didn't even know I passed it really hard."

He now had the courage to look at your state. His eyes correspond to a frightened puppy and you were not gonna lie that it was adorable to see him feel so disappointed in himself for a minor ruckus.

You didn't even have a bruise or a black eye, you just had a mild concussion, laying unconscious until you finally opened your eyes returning you to your normal state.

But if you were in his shoes, you'd totally feel the same as him now.

"I'm so sorry, I had to insist of backing out from the game in the meantime to look after you,"

"Jake was supposed to be the one here but I insisted on staying since I'm the one who you know…" He hit his hand as it was gestured to a C. You perked up your lips at his demonstration, also finding his constant apologies quite adorable.

He really did regret it a lot, though you didn't mind.

"Hey, it's fine. I don't think it's that serious. "You reassured, the other only gazed at you intently.

"You don't have to worry about it, I'm perfectly fine… But besides that now, I haven't seen you before," Riki's eyebrow rose, not expecting those words.

"Maybe because I barely visit my brother's practices but I swear when I do, I never see you practicing with them."

"Oh, I must've not been in them… Sometimes I don't attend practices for reasons, so maybe you came to watch when I wasn't in them? Just maybe." He gushed, you only sat to hear more of his stories… You slowly faw over his presence as he talks about his likes, dislikes, favorite places, and basketball stories all in a span of 10 minutes. You couldn't imagine if Jake was the one to look over you instead, he'd probably make fun of you while you were unconscious or so.

Well, Jake isn't actually like that, you were just thankful to have him give in and prioritize winning for his team rather than looking after you and costing them a few more points. Which led him to look after you…

Who's… him?

Your eyes widen to the man talking in front of you, unaware of his name during the whole conversation. How can both of you be this dunce at the same time.

As you were about to ask for his name, he stood up. "I better head back to the game, since you're feeling much better now,"

You only nodded in response.

"I'll tell Jake his girlfriend is doing okay!"

Hold up— What?

You winced confusingly at the words that left his mouth. He's getting the wrong idea.

As his figure fades any further you yelled a "wait!" On his way, the boy frighteningly stopped his tracks, facing you once more.

"Let me introduce myself…" You spoke up, a mere suggestion for him to do the same as well.

"O-Oh… OH!— I'm sorry, I think I introduced myself when you were still unconscious on that bed… I'm Nishimura Riki! I'm in my 4th year."

"Oh… I'm also a 4th year student."

Riki subconsciously tilt his head, as if he's questioning so much just by the similar years you two are in.

"I didn't know Jake likes girls way below his age."

You winced once more. This was a gross assumption, you couldn't imagine being in this type of situation yet you're here now.

"I'm Y/N," You paused for absolutely no reason, probably for the effect.

"I'm Jake's sister."

Riki's heart sank, immediately having countless daggers of embarrassment stabbed him way through all of his body. He couldn't imagine this was happening, he genuinely thought that you were dating their captain. When he saw you and two other people going through a tough crowd in order to get into the three vacant seats so close to the court, he thought you were one of the prettiest among the crowds. It was silly of him to think that to a random girl of course, though having your presence made him more competitive and encouraged him to do his best in order for you to see him shine (and indirectly impress you).

He did feel quite disappointed when their team captain, Sim Jaeyun, ran towards you and you began ruffling his hair so cutely. Losing his hope and backing out on his interest to you since he didn't wanna meddle in relationships he shouldn't be in, also he doesn't like when their captain gets angry, and common knowledge is that homewrecking is absolutely bad.

Tracing his thoughts back to reality, his face slowly turned tinted red, flustered at the utter embarrassing assumption that he held with himself for the whole time he looked after you.

"I… I am.. I'm- I'm so sorry!" He freaked out.

"I didn't know, so I assumed you two— Why did I even assume that you two were a thing?! "

"Why did you?" You questioned calmly, a cheeky smile plastered on your face, cutting off his freaking out state.

"I-It's just I saw… you teasing Jake earlier, like messing his hair and all— so yeah, you were doing that before the match started and I just thought there was a romantic kick to it, you know?"

"And you looked at our way because…?"

"I looked to your way because you were the most prettiest girl I have ever seen and I kept my eyes on you for the remainder of the time you and your friends were reaching to the vacant seats near the court, that I also assumed that Jake saved for you and your friends…" The man inhaled deeply as he said all of that in one breath.

You could only widen your eyes at his confession, subconsciously perking the edges of your lips at how adorable he is when he's this flustered.

"I'm sorry I think I said too much—"

"No no, don't be… I think that's really sweet of you." You held your screams of triumph in, wanting to stay calm and collected.

"Since you said that, I'll just say that you also caught my attention while you were on the court,"

You paused, your heart picking up an intense pace, your eyes locking to his.

"I'm kinda glad I got you to look after me rather than my annoying brother." You joked, rolling your eyes at the mention of your brother.

"Hey, your brother was actually really worried when you got… you know."

"I knew he would be."

You both exchanged warm smiles, repeatingly nodding your head's at each silent thought.

"You should probably go back now, they need you there."

"Oh right! Are you gonna go back… also?"

"I will, I won't miss you owning that court...

Just like earlier. "

Riki's smile widens, more encouraged than ever to go back to the game and show you what he can really do.

"I'll look for you after the game, I promise."

author's note— I'm back from my hiatus!! kinda, i think?? I have a few more wips that I'm working on so i may be able to upload them in a few days or weeks! I rlly miss tumblr and writing pls pls pls bear w me w this one... I'm just trying to get my vocab juice going after a long time of writers block 😭 anw i hope u enjoy!!

perm tags— @jangwonie @jungwonize @luhvlyuna @w3bqrl @ineedaherosavemeenow @leaderwon

© seungiepup. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

[goldfades]

✮ 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬, zegras' have more fun

♡ ─ summary | media day pictures (NOT MINE AND IT'S NOT THE FC) and something makes the jack stans go crazy

♡ ─ warnings | light-hearted flirting/arguing, brief mention of hate crimes (ITS A JOKE THOUGH), hughes bros being dumb (not trev for once LMAO)

♡ ─ taglist | tbd

♡ ─ ev's notes | this lowkey eats I MISSED THIS AU

back to navigation back to AU masterlist

stasszegras ann arbor, michigan

Liked by trevorzegras, lhughes_06, jackhughes and 9,935 more

stasszegras | media day pics, first (official) fnl + WENT LOWKEY VIRAL ON TIKTOK???? tagged: pchandler68, umichfootball, lucafantilli september 23th, 2022

View all 1,008 comments

briesbagels | my favorite tiktok influencer 🤭

↳ stasszegras stop it. 😐

↳ briesbagels 3 million views on a tiktok IS CRAZYYY

↳ stasszegras it's only cus luke was in the video

↳ lhughes_06 clout chaser 😝

briesbagels | LAST PIC OF LUCA IS HORRENDOUS PLS STASS 😫😫

↳ lucafantilli ok this one hurts brie, i thought u were on my side

↳ briesbagels its either u or stass (im choosing my girl)

↳ stasszegras 🤭😏😍

↳ pchandler68 hmmmmm 😏😏

↳ adamfantilli 🥸🥸

↳ stasszegras what's goin on here.... 😥

umichwsoccer | THATS OUR GIRL! 🫡〽️

↳ stasszegras 🤞🏼🤞🏼

jackhughes | wowww okay stassie.. 🤞🏼🤩 woo 😮‍💨😮‍💨

↳ trevorzegras 😟😟 oh no

↳ lhughes_06 since when we callin her stassie????

↳ jackhughes WE?? get ur own nickname lukey 😑😑

↳ stasszegras k y'all let's just stick to stass or little zegras 😶

↳ trevorzegras @/griffinzegras

↳ griffinzegras bffr right now 📸📸📸 aren't you like 30 jack??

↳ jackhughes actually i'm 21 so calm the FUCKK down... and i was just being nice and friendly griff come on now

↳ briesbagels and thats why we wear sunscreen kids 🥴

↳ griffinzegras yea maybe a little too friendly..

↳ stasszegras guys im gonna disable my comments if u keep arguing like 12 year olds

↳ trevorzegras mhm yeah and thats the ONLY REASON why you would wanna disable the comments

lucafantilli | last pic should be considered a hate crime bro how'd u even get that

↳ stasszegras don't ask stupid questions like that luca

↳ adamfantilli 🥸🥸

↳ lucafantilli MY OWN BROTHER?!?!?!

↳ lhughes_06 i guess we are all getting betrayed by our flesh and blood rn 😪

↳ jackhughes be so fr rn lukey

↳ trevorzegras agreed luke

↳ jackhughes 😑😑

↳ pchandler68 interesting.. 📸

quinnhughes | you ate little zegras 🫡

↳ stasszegras thanks quinner 🫶🏼

↳ trevorzegras YEA this is really being friendly @/jackhughes

↳ jackhughes bro. let this go.

↳ quinnhughes leave me the fuck outta this guys, please 😁

lhughes_06 | gonna win us a jr world cup zegras ✊🏼

↳ stasszegras YESSS SIR 🫡🫡〽️〽️ but thats not how it works buddy

↳ lhughes_06 there's no jr world cup????

↳ jackhughes messi is rolling in his grave rn

↳ stasszegras messi is alive????

↳ briesbagels no way bro 😭😭

↳ quinnhughes LMAO PLEASE 😭

pchandler68 | LUCA LOL PLEASE HAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAH

↳ lucafantilli count your days chandler

↳ pchandler68 wait no luca im sorry

↳ lucafantilli its ur fault u introduced me and stass and NOW LOOK. all the hoes are gone

↳ stasszegras 😑😑😑

↳ adamfantilli not all of them.....🥯🥯🥯

↳ lucafantilli shut up adam.

↳ pchandler68 wait what??...

adamfantilli future manager AND she plays for our soccer team?? it's perfect 🤞🏼🤞🏼

↳ stasszegras hahaahaha no.

↳ nolan_moyle STASS PLEASE

↳ stasszegras stop harassing me nolan

jhughesnews

Liked by njdevilfan09, briesbagels, zegrasluvr898 and 4,509 more

jhughesnews | jack hughes and anastasia zegras are reportedly going out after he comments a suggestive comment on her most recent post. thoughts???

View all 2,190 comments

fan01 | WHAT?? NO WAY????? WHO WAS GOING TO TELL ME

fan02 | guys they are just friends, if u guys look at her other posts he makes those kinda jokes all the time

↳ fan03 nah bro did u see trevor and griffin's comments? they obviously know something we don't

↳ fan02 yeah but that's their humor

fan04 | good 😭😭😭 for😭😭😭 them 😭😭😭

fan05 | didn't she go out with luke too 😐

↳ fan06 damn she wants the whole crew

↳ fan07 who can blame her tho??? have u seen them 🤭🤭

↳ fan08 no she didn't lmao, those were also JUST rumors and it's obvious they're just friends

fan09 | guys stop it, these are baseless rumors and REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS TO TAYLOR ALL THE TIME, stass is great just by herself 🫶🏼

↳ fan10 all right girl..

↳ fan11 its giving "coach is right guys... 😣"

↳ fan12 im crying BYEEE PLEASE 😭😭😭😭

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 31: New Year's Eve Traditions & Activities

We made it to the end!!! Tell me that picture doesn't look like Steve and Eddie's arms!!!

Tags: Established Relationship, Post-Season 4, Canon Divergent, Everybody Lives (obviously), New Year's Eve, New Year's Eve Kiss, New Year's Eve Fluff, Humor

wc: 1480 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

“Let me get this straight,” Steve says, resting his forearms on the candy counter of Family Video. After a quick glance around to make sure the store is still empty (it is and has been since their shift started four hours ago), Steve continues. “You won’t be my New Year’s kiss because you have to scarf down 12 grapes in 12 seconds.”

“That’s correct.”

“That makes no sense!”

“Maybe if you stopped whining and actually listened to why, you’d understand” Robin chimes in.

Steve looks up and scowls before flicking her knee that’s dangling off the candy counter. She shouldn’t even be up there in the first place — especially not with her damn shoes on. It’s going to take an extra ten minutes to clean the damn thing now that she’s scuffed it up.

“Fine,” he sighs, turning his attention back to Eddie. “Why do you have to scarf down 12 grapes instead of kissing me, your boyfriend?”

Robin snorts, nearly choking on a piece of licorice. Serves her right, Steve thinks as he wordlessly passes her a cup of water.

“I’m so happy you asked,” Eddie beams as he leans against the counter like Steve. Their forearms brush as Eddie situates himself, elbows pressing into the glass as he nestles his chin in the palm of his hands. “See an old wise tale in my culture says that eating 12 grapes at the 12 strokes of midnight brings good luck in the new year.”

“Do you even believe in luck?”

Eddie hums in consideration, “Not really, no. But I’m not going to tempt fate. Especially when I have too much to lose in the new year if I fuck it up.”

Before Steve has time to ask a follow-up question, his lips are on Eddie’s. Warm and slightly chapped. Tasting like tobacco and an overwhelming serving of cherry thanks to the stupid licorice he’s been devouring with Robin. He barely has time to close his eyes and lean into the kiss before Eddie pulls away with a simper and a cute flush spreading across his cheeks that he tries to hide with a lock of his hair.

“What if I said not kissing me at midnight is bad luck?” Steve tries. 

“Well, then I guess I could try to do both.”

“Absolutely not,” Robin says, butting back into the conversation. “I am not calling the paramedics one second into the new year because you two decided to be major dinguses. Just let Eddie eat his grapes and kiss him after.”

“But it’s not the same,” Steve bemoans. He lets his body go slack, chest, and head thunking against the counter with a gentle force that should keep him from bruising. Looking up through his eyelashes, he gives Eddie his best attempt at making his eyes wide and innocent in a way that’ll make him break. “I haven’t had a midnight kiss in years. I just thought this year was going to be different.”

“Join the club,” Robin says, knocking her knee against his outstretched forearm.

“Oh no, trouble in romance land, Birdie?” Eddie asks, completely ignoring Steve’s terrible attempt at guilt-tripping him.

Robin sighs, tipping her head back until it thunks against the wall. The neon Family Video sign shakes under the vibration but thankfully doesn’t fall. That’s a mess Steve doesn’t want to have to clean up.

“I thought when Vickie broke up with her douchebag boyfriend things would fall into place but nothing has happened. There’s only so many hints I can drop before I accept the fact that she’s not into me.”

“But she is into you,” Steve says. If there’s one way to get him out of his own pity party, it's dragging Robin out of her own.

“Yeah well, my last four dateless weekends say otherwise.”

“Maybe you should eat the grapes too,” Eddie says. “Freak says if you eat them under a table it’ll bring good luck in your love life.”

Steve can’t help but snort. “How’s that working out for him?”

“Well, he has a girlfriend up in Maine where his grandparents live so you tell me,” Eddie challenges.

“At this point, I’ll try anything. I can’t go another year without kissing a girl,” Robin whines. “Any other good luck charms I should know about?”

“Argyle said his family wears different color underwear for different types of luck. Red for love, obviously.”

“Red underwear and grapes. Got it.”

Steve sighs, shaking his head. “I guess we’re making a stop at Bradley’s before we head home. Does it matter if they’re red or green grapes?”

“Nope. A grape is a grape. The important thing is eating them fast.”

“Right,” Steve nods as if he understands even though he’s still incredibly skeptical about this whole charade. Kissing Eddie sounds so much better than nearly choking on grapes, but whatever. If it makes Eddie happy, well, he’ll compromise. “Might be good to have the phone nearby then. Just in case we forget how to chew.”

“Wait we? Are you eating grapes too?” Eddie asks, already bouncing on his feet in anticipation.

Okay, yeah, eating a few grapes is worth the look on his face right now.

“Can’t let you and Robin take all the good luck,” he shrugs.

Eddie grins before launching himself at the counter. He practically vaults over the damn thing but his belt gets caught and he goes stumbling into Steve’s arms instead. It’s not the first time they’ve fallen together like this, and it definitely won’t be the last given his clumsiness, but Steve doesn’t mind. Especially not when Eddie pushes himself up and sears a kiss on his waiting lips.

“Promise I’ll make the first kiss of the new year worth the wait.”

🍇 🎆 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

As the kids start counting down from 30, Steve scrambles to pass out the giant green grapes he and Robin picked up the day before. The kids are uninterested in the tradition, but Eddie ropes Jonathan and Nancy into his antics. Argyle didn’t need convincing, already eager to cross off as many New Year’s superstitions as he could — which is why he ran around the block with an empty suitcase half an hour ago.

Robin b-lines for the dining room table the minute she has 12 grapes in her palm and it’s only a matter of seconds before Eddie’s tugging Steve after her.

“Eds,” he shouts, nearly spilling his grapes in the process. “What are you doing?”

“Getting us under the table!”

“I thought that’s for good luck in love.”

“It is,” Eddie says, ducking as he squishes in next to Robin.

“But you already have me.”

“Wow, Steve. Someone’s full of themselves,” Robin teases.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I just want to make sure the universe gives me enough luck to keep you,” Eddie says, bashfully, before giving Steve’s wrist another yank. “Now get under here before you ruin the magic!”

Steve wants to tell Eddie that he doesn’t need some silly superstition to keep him. He’s not going anywhere, not if he can help it. But the kids are really shouting now, already down to five seconds and Steve can see the slight panic in Eddie’s brown eyes so he scrambles under the table instead.

“3! 2! 1! Happy—“

“Eat, eat, eat!” Eddie shouts, drowning out the cheers of the kids in the living room.

Steve shoves the first grape into his mouth and gets to chewing, watching as Eddie shoves at least three and Robin tries her best to work through her own pile of grapes as fast and carefully as she can. It’s a chaotic flurry, especially when one of Eddie’s grapes falls and goes rolling, but Steve saves it without getting out from the table and pops it in Eddie’s mouth for him. He wants to say “for extra good luck” but he’s too busy trying not to choke on his own mouthful of grapes.

Christ, why did they have to be so big and crunchy?

In the end, all three of them manage to successfully eat their grapes before 12:01 hits. To celebrate, Eddie drags Steve back out from under the table. Back on their feet, Eddie dramatically dips him in his arms before giving him the cheesiest kiss they’ve ever shared — loud “mwah” included.

“That’s the big kiss you promised me?” Steve asks, laughing as Eddie pulls him back into a standing position.

“Well, I had other plans but there’s too many witnesses for how I really want to kiss you,” Eddie teases, before leaning in closer. “I’ll show you later.”

Steve smiles as he gets his hands around Eddie. This time he’s the one who pulls him close, bodies flush as he stares into those beautiful brown eyes he hardly even looked at a year ago. “I think this is going to be a good year.”

“’87, baby.”

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - mentions of drug use

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 11

Matt Sturniolo created his own world; only in his own environment did he feel secure, comfortable, and protected. A genuine camaraderie was created at Graceland. We lived as one big family, eating, talking, arguing, joking, playing, and traveling together.

Although I became friends with the guys in Matt’s retinue, he never let me, or anyone else, forget that I was his girl. I was never to get too close or become too familiar with any of the regulars.

One evening, after we came home from a movie, we said good night to everyone and went upstairs. Returning to the kitchen a few minutes later to get something to eat, I found Jerry Schilling, who’d just started working for Matt, making himself a snack. We started talking. A few minutes later, Matt appeared.

“What the hell are you two doing down here?” he shouted at us.

Intimidated, Jerry said, “Well, Matt, we were just talking. I was asking her how she felt, because she didn’t feel well this afternoon.”

“I came down to get something to eat,” I explained.

“y/nn, you don’t need to be roaming around here late at night,” he said, angrily ordering me upstairs.

Behind me, I could hear him lashing out at Jerry. “If you want to keep this job, son, you mind your own business. If there’s anyone who’s going to ask her how she feels, it’ll be me. You better mind your own goddamn business.”

I liked Jerry. He was warm, sincere, and very personable; just a couple of years older than I, he was one of the few people who I could relate to. But from that time on, it was a dodging match every time we’d run into each other. Now Jerry and I laugh about the “good old days” when we reminisce.

Most of the boys who worked for Matt had been around from the beginning and they knew all about him—his sense of humor, his sensitivity, and his temper. He stripped himself bare in front of them, and they accepted him for what he was.

Yet working for Matt was a twenty-four-hour-a-day job, and the boys were at his beck and call constantly. They played when he played and slept when he slept. It took a certain kind of personality to put up with his demands, whether they made sense or not.

“Come on, y/nn, let’s go to Los Angeles. I’ll show you where I film movies.,” he said one afternoon when we’d only been up for a few hours. He called downstairs and told Alan to alert everyone that he wanted to leave within the hour.

Alan said, “Okay, Boss. I think Richard and Gene are still sleeping. I’ll give ’em a call and tell ’em to come right over.”

“Their lazy asses are still sleeping?” Matt asked. “I’ve been up for two goddamn hours. They should have been over here by now. Alan, from now on, when I call down for my breakfast, call the boys and tell them I’m up and to be ready for anything, and that may include me not even coming downstairs. I just want them here.”

Demanding? Yes, but Matt could be just as generous. By today’s standards the boys’ salaries were not high—the average paycheck was $250 a week—but if the boys ever felt the pinch by the end of the month, they would go to Matt. They’d ask him if he could help them out with a down payment on a house or the first and last months’ payments on an apartment. Matt always came through for them, lending them the one thousand or five thousand or ten thousand dollars they asked for. He was rarely if ever paid back.

There also was no limit to the expensive gifts he gave them—television consoles for Christmas, bonus checks, Cadillac convertibles, Mercedes-Benzes. If he heard someone was sad or depressed, he loved to surprise them with a gift, usually a brand-new car. When he gave to one, he would usually end up giving to all.

James didn’t have much respect for the guys. He said Matt just gave and gave and gave, and they took and took and took. He’d say, “Son, we have to save.” Matt would answer, “It’s only money, Dad. I just have to go out and make more.”

James resented the regulars acting as if Graceland was their personal club. They’d go into the kitchen at any hour and order anything they wanted. Naturally, everyone ordered something different. The cooks worked night and day keeping them happy. James felt, “To hell with the boys. Their main concern should be Matt.”

What was really outrageous was that the regulars were ordering sirloin steaks or prime ribs while Matt usually ate hamburgers or peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

I wasn’t too popular around Graceland when I started reorganizing the kitchen. I set down a policy of having one menu per meal, and anyone who didn’t like what was on it could go to a local restaurant. This new edict resulted in much grumbling from the guys, but the cooks were relieved, and James sanctioned my decision, announcing, “It’s about time someone organized the meals. It was beginning to look like we were feeding half of Boston.”

Matt was the boss, the provider, and the power. Both the boys and I had to protect him from people who annoyed or irritated him and were no longer in his favor. Before coming down for the evening, he’d have me call downstairs to check who was there. I’d run down the guests, aware that certain names would strike him wrong.

“Shit,” he’d say, his mood destroyed. “What’s he want? Bring me some more bad news?” He’d stay up in his room rather than spend an evening with someone he didn’t like. There was one particular regular who had incurred his disfavor, and Matt told everyone he didn’t want him around. “Don’t let him through those goddamn gates!” Matt ordered. “All I have to do is look at his face and I get depressed.” Matt barred him from Graceland for a number of years, saying, “If he changes his morbid attitude, maybe I’ll change my mind.” His perceptions were correct, as these “friends” eventually betrayed him.

Matt and James kept some of their relatives at a distance because, as Matt explained to me, they’d shunned him when he was growing up, ridiculing him as a sissy, a mama’s boy. Mary Lou stood up for Matt and told his tormentors to go their own way. Angrily, she had said, “Don’t bother us with these accusations.”

Then fame and fortune hit, and suddenly all the kinfolk came around, begging for jobs or crying that they needed help. Sometimes Matt got upset, charging, “The only time they visit is with their hand out. It’d be nice if they’d come around just to see how I was doing. But hell no, it’s always, ‘Ah, Matt, I could use a little extra cash. Could you help me out?’ Hell, I’ll bet when I’m dead and gone, they’ll still be taking advantage.” But Matt ended up slipping each of them a hundred dollars or more every time they came around. If it had been up to James, he would have gotten rid of every one of them. But Matt kept saying, “No, Dad, they don’t have any place to go. They couldn’t work anywhere. Keep them here.”

From the beginning of his success, Matt put many family members on salary, and all had titles. James was his business manager; Patsy, his personal secretary; uncles Vester Sturniolo and Johnny and Travis Smith, and cousin Harold Lloyd, gate guards; cousins Billy, Bobby, and Gene, personal aides; and then there was Tracy Smith, who seemed to go from brother to brother for support. Matt took care of everyone.

I remember one night at Graceland when Matt came back to the kitchen and saw Tracy pacing the floor. “Hey, Tracy,” he said, “How ya doing, man?” Tracy, his hands in his pockets, could hardly look Matt in the eye. “I don’t know, Matt,” he sighed. “What do ya mean, you don’t know? Everyone knows how they’re doin’, man.”

Tracy, shifting back and forth, mumbled, “I got my nerves in the dirt, Matt.” Matt staggered back, laughing. “Nerves in the dirt! Hell, I never heard it expressed like that before. You need some money, Tracy?”

Again, Tracy just shifted back and forth, as Matt called Nate over and told him to give Tracy a bill. A big smile covered Tracy’s lined face as he happily took his hundred dollars and walked out the door.

Matt knew that having his nerves in the dirt was Tracy’s way of saying he was down and out—and worried sick about it. He never forgot that phrase. “Poor ol’ Matt,” he’d say. “I’ll never forget the look on his face that night, poor ol’ guy.”

That was Matt—always caring, always sensitive to everyone’s needs, even while presenting a macho image to his fans and friends.

Anything I could think of doing for him, I did. I made sure Graceland was always warm and inviting, with the lights turned low, as he preferred them, the temperature in his bedroom set to his exact desire (freezing), and the kitchen filled with the aroma of his favorite meals.

Every night before dinner was served, I came downstairs first, checked with the maids to see that his food was just the way he liked it—his mashed potatoes creamily whipped, plenty of cornbread, and his meat burnt to perfection. I always had candles on the dining room table to create a romantic atmosphere despite the fact that we always ate with several of the regulars.

I loved babying Matt. He had a little-boy quality that could bring out the mother instinct in any woman, a beguiling way of seeming utterly dependent. It was this aspect of his charm that made me want to hold him, shower him with affection, protect him, fight for him, and yes, even die for him. I went to extremes in taking care of him, from cutting his steak at dinner to making sure his water glass was always filled. I enjoyed pampering and spoiling him and found myself jealous of others vying for his attention and approval.

But I didn’t always receive his approval. If something went wrong with his dinner, Matt blew up. “Why isn’t this steak done? Why didn’t you make sure the maids cooked it right? If you’d have done your job, it wouldn’t have turned out like this.” Obviously something else was wrong, and I didn’t recognize it at the time. Because of the continuous pressures and problems in Matt’s life, all magnified by taking prescribed drugs, little things would set him off. I took responsibility for everything in his life and always took it all too personally.

I wanted to be with Matt as much as I could, but while going to the movies or the fairgrounds every night might have been a wonderful way for him to relax, it posed an enormous problem for me. Often I wouldn’t get home until 5 or 6 a.m., and I’d have to be at school two hours later. Sometimes I never went to sleep. When I did, I could barely make it out of bed. I would lie there trying to drum up the strength to face the day, Matt making it even harder by suggesting that I sleep in and cut classes. It would have been so easy to go along with his suggestion, but hanging over me was the agreement I’d made with my parents. They trusted me and even though I was letting them down, I still had to keep up the facade.

Day after day I drove to school, attended classes till noon, then returned to Graceland to slip back into bed and cuddle next to Matt, who was still sound asleep. When he awoke at 3 or 4 p.m., I might never have left his side for all he knew. I was there to give him his usual order of orange juice, a Spanish omelet, home-fried potatoes, a mere two pounds of bacon, and—first and foremost—his black coffee.

Everyone who knew Matt was aware that it took him at least two to three hours to wake up fully. Asking him to make a decision, even a simple one such as what movie he wanted to see that night, was ill-advised. He was just too groggy and irritable from the sleeping pills, which were causing him to sleep as many as fourteen hours a day. It seemed only natural for him to take some Dexedrine to wake up.

I was always concerned about his intake of sleeping pills. His horror of insomnia, compounded with a family history of compulsive worrying, caused him to down three or four Placidyls, Seconals, Quaaludes, or Tuinals almost every night—and often it was a combination of all four. When I expressed my concern, he just picked up the medical dictionary, always near at hand on his night table.

“In here is the explanation for every type of pill on the market, their ingredients, side effects, cures, everything about them,” he assured me. “There isn’t anything I can’t find out.”

It was true. He was always reading up on pills, always checking to see what was on the market, and which ones had received FDA approval. He referred to them by their medical names and knew all their ingredients. Like everyone else around him, I was impressed with his knowledge and certain that he was an expert. One would think he had a degree in pharmacology. He always assured me that he didn’t need pills, that he could never become dependent on them. This difference in opinion resulted in many serious confrontations; I always compromised my integrity and ended up taking his viewpoint.

I began taking sleeping pills and diet pills too. Two Placidyls for him and one for me. A Dexedrine for him and one for me. Eventually Matt’s consumption of pills seemed as normal to me as watching him eat a pound of bacon with his Spanish omelet. I routinely took “helpers” in order to get to sleep after wild rides at the fairgrounds or early-morning jam sessions. And I routinely took more “helpers” when I woke up in order to maintain the fast pace and, more importantly, to study for my final exams.

During the last month before finals, I started popping more dexies than before. They seemed to give me the energy I needed to get through classes and homework. Every free moment was devoted to cramming a whole semester’s work into a few weeks. But my concentration was scattered; the strain of life at Graceland had finally caught up with me.

I had already been warned by Sister Adrian that in order for me to graduate, I had to pass all my subjects. During a talk in her office, I wanted desperately to confide in her and explained how hard it was to maintain my grade level with the late hours I kept: But how could I tell that to a nun?

I had no real goals after graduation, but I did sometimes dream of becoming a dancer or possibly enrolling in an art academy. Now I realize that I was deeply influenced by Matt’s casual attitude toward continued schooling. He figured I didn’t need it and I agreed. Just being with him most of the time would provide an education—not to mention experience—that no school could give me. He wanted me to be his totally, free to go to him in an instant if he needed me.

That sounded great to me. I’d never planned on a future without Matt. Therefore, while my classmates were deciding which colleges to apply to, I was deciding which gun to wear with what sequined dress. I was tempted to say to Sister Adrian, “Oh, by the way, Sister, does gunmetal gray go with royal blue sequins?” With that attitude it was no surprise that I was still woefully unprepared for my most hated subject, algebra, the week before finals.

On the day of the test, I sat in the crowded classroom, hyper from downing a dexy, trying to work out the problems. Despite my effort, I knew there was no way I was going to pass. I started to panic. I had to graduate. I had an obligation to Matt and to my parents, who I knew would yank me out of Graceland the minute I failed this test. I glanced at the girl next to me—and at her completed test paper. It’s my last resort, I thought. I’m going for it. I was not willing to face the consequences of being sent home for failing this test.

Her name was Janet and she was a straight A student. I tapped her on the shoulder and flashed my brightest smile, whispering, “Are you a Matt fan?” Taken aback by my question, Janet nodded yes. “How would you like to come to one of his parties?” I asked.

“Are you kidding?” she replied. “I’d love to.”

“Well, I know a way that it can be arranged.”

I eyed her test paper and explained. Janet instantly grasped my dilemma and, without a word, slid her paper to the edge of her desk. Now I had a full view of her answers. I spent the rest of the hour furiously copying them down and I not only passed, but I got an A on that test.

I hadn’t expected Matt to make much of my graduation. His attitude was, “A diploma’s not that important; life’s experiences are.” But to my surprise, he really looked forward to it and arranged to have a big party for our friends after the ceremony. There he presented a beautiful red Corvair, my first car.

On the big night he was like a proud parent. Nervous about what he should wear to the ceremony, he finally settled on a dark blue suit, and I put on my navy blue gown. I couldn’t possibly keep the cap on over that mass of teased hair.

Matt had a limo waiting for us out front. But there was one problem: I did not want him to come to the actual ceremony. It would attract a lot of attention, and all eyes would be focused on him instead of the graduating seniors.

Finally I worked up enough courage to ask him to wait outside, and explained why. Smiling his funny little grin, the one that came to his lips when he was hurt or upset, he agreed without hesitation. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he said. “I won’t come in. I’ll just be outside in the car waiting for you. That way I’ll kinda be there.”

And that was what he did. I accepted my diploma with mixed emotions. I would have loved for him to have been watching, but only I knew what a physical, emotional, and mental strain it had been to get that piece of paper. To me, it represented freedom, freedom to stay out until dawn if I wanted and sleep all day if I wanted. It represented freedom from my school uniform and from the teasing the entourage subjected me to every time they caught me in it trying to sneak past them at Graceland. I was a big girl playing in the big leagues.

As soon as I could get away, I ran outside. In front of the church, Matt and the boys were standing by the long black limo, looking like the Chicago Mafia in their dark glasses and suits, each concealing a.38. Around them a group of nuns were clamoring for Matt’s autograph.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - so cute🎀

[residentialsinyomakai]

Obligatory refs + Info of my Yokai Watch Ocs (*＾▽＾*)

Under a cut because there's gonna be a lot of yapping and art stuffs....explodes +□+

Caspian Hernandez || Any Prns || Watcholder

Basics:

The 15 year old 'basically Nate replacement' of this universe!

Lives in Blossom Heights mostly alone, parents are gone pretty often for one reason or another.

In addition, she lives with Baddinyan who is the only reason they're always out of Chocobars

Can see yokai through their glasses (ability can't be deactivated, but he has to focus on yokai for a few seconds in order to actually see/identify them)

Summons them w/ the Yopple-Brand summon band :'] (Customizable! That's why it looks like a disc attached to a Brute Bracer; because it basically is.) Insert disc into a slot in the side!! Whoopie!!!

Not very socially aware due to doing online school up until the age of like 12 (EVIL CAT interactions early on are constantly like 'lol that thing they said actually meant this you dork ahah you fool' 'hush weirdo I'm trying to focus')

((^ i mean in addition to that hes also based on me so like. Neurodivergent canon?? Maybe?? Idk i unintentionslly write characters like me sometimes

A bit goofy and switches moods easily. Some days can be pretty apathetic if she's in a slump.

Gameverse Friend Team of 6: Baddinyan (duh), Badude, Casanuva, Babblong, Tut'n'K'mon, and Rawry

VC: Unbearaboy! from the 'Yo-Kai Watch!' Sub (the blue one in this scene) ((yes I know it's goofy but it's the only clip I could find, skip past the beginning flashback 😭));

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Kerosque || He/Him || Formerly-Alive Yokai

Basics:

Water-Attributed Rank-B yokai of the Tough Tribe

Phrog is about in his upper 40's.

Inspirit; is kinda like when people tend to be kinda cold/curt in the mornings for seemingly no reason.

Runs a ramen stand someplace on the outskirts of Yo-kailafornia. (He's a pretty good chef too)

((He also has little custom pins you can get for free depending on who you are ^u^ a few of his customers/friends tend to.))

Uses his ladle (however you spell it) as a bit of a weapon thing. Comically large goofy ahh 😭

Doesnt go to the human world more often than he needs to. Too much everything

This man HATES stepping foot in downtown he does NOT wanna be there ever-

Kinda perpetually grumpy, resting mildly angry face. He tries to be polite but isn't very talkative at all lol

He does in fact croak. I love frog

Not pictured cause I forgot but like. Has a little swirly stomach pattern

Reoccurring yokai at his stand tend to be: Roughraff, Sick-Kun, Quinn, Ebi, Caspian, Master Oden, and occasionally Bruff.

VC: No clue yet, something along the lines of a higher version of Walrus Captain from A hat In Time, or a less enthusiastic Captain Caviar from Cookie Run? (If you got ideas, feel free!)

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Dread || He/They/Xe || Human-Born Yokai

Basics:

Drain-Attributed Rank-S yokai of the Shady Tribe

Inspirit; kinda similar to intrusive thoughs. Worse case scenario stuff, things that make you think you're an awful person, dreading situations or overthinking anything, etc etc

Is sighted quite a bit around high-schools. Hormones+anxiety+prime place for embarassment? Makes his job too easy

He has low empathy, but isn't completely incapable. Doesn't make a lot of friends and honestly he could care less either way.

Rather flippant, dry humor kinda guy, kinda similar to Jax from tadc for reference

He does have hair under there (i thought thatd be obvious but then again you'd probably also expect him to have skin and a chest/stomach under his hoodie so aifkwod), but it's usually kinda greasy.

Heart is a weak point in battle. If he ever let's it be exposed in the first place, that is

Cannot be seen by Caspian earlier in the story. Around the point I'd expect him to be in most of my drawings, he's at 'watch' Rank-B

Likes to taunt people, the easier to provoke the better. He feeds off of negative reactions and emotions for both entertainment and soul food nom nom

Usually a sad reaction is better than an angry one for him. If he finds someone's emotional weakness he most likely Will Exploit it XnX

While he doesn't care for anyone, he tends to harass Fuwhirl and Negatibuzz the least.

VC: Dont kill me but Raggedy Andy from Raggedy Anne's Musical Adventure

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Swiss || He/Him || Human-Born Yokai

Basics:

Electic-Attributed Rank-C yokai of the Eerie Tribe

Inspirit; is why people (usually kids) are picky eaters. This can look like randomly losing an appetite/ just finding several things repulsive/I'm bald/nuance/ref

Wanders around wherever. Lives in one of the Tranquility Apartments officially tho.

(Fuwhirl lives w him after they reunite <333 long story short they know him)

Has pretty poor eating habits himself tbh

Is edible!! Technically!!! He would not reccomend it (he's cake roll flavored :'])

The swirl in his hair can be dyed different colors.)

Going off of that, he can regenerate. Useful, but kiiiinda painful

He's a bit of an a-hole, and absolutely doesn't know when to shut up. He doesn't like to fight tho surprisingly (°>°)

Sarcastic and quick to snap back at someone =u=

(There's a strange old man he helps with experiments concerning his odd biology....he hasn't been posted yet but he belongs to my friend @sketchdeath22)

VC: lol idk

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Fuwhirl || They/Them || Object-Born Yokai

Basics:

Wind-Attributed Rank-D yokai of the Mysterious Tribe

Inspirit; Makes people dizzy either randomly or after standing up ×□×

Lived at a circus for a while, but eventually it moved out of town. After a bit of aimless wandering they found their way to Blossom Heights 🌸!!!

Kinda stumbles when they walk, it's worse when they're distressed but a bit more easy to navigate when they're happier &u&

Naive, likes to think anyone's nice under the surface +▽+

Is kinda like Tattletell's in the way he had to be latched on to you to be effective. Typically via a backpack

Has one of those build-a-bear hearts inside him!!! Whoopie :)

VC: Uhhh I forgot atm but I will come back and edit lol

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Anyways, that's not including my like 'ocified versions of pre-existing characters' agsgydirofor I love yapping about ocs!!! Wahoo :)

[3cremepie3]

Hmmm ideas?

MC is messing around in Ramshackle's basement when they stumble on an old treasure chest. The varnish is chipped at and the wood seems like it's been through immense waterlogging.

The ghosts swear they've never seen it before, and neither MC nor Grim can open it (Grim tried putting his forked tail in the keyhole... it did not go well).

Curious, MC invites their boyfriend Rook, best friend Idia, and ofc Deuce and Ace, to see if any of them can pry it open.

I could see them even calling over Crowley if they get frustrated enough.

Unbearable Treasure

Synopsis - Y/n finds a promising chest at ramshackle. Only problem is they can’t open it. Can anyone even get it open? GN y/n !

Warnings - cursing, slight offensive humor

A/n - I love this idea it’s simple and cute thanks for requesting.

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The old rusty grandfather clock struck 12 in the morning. You couldn’t believe you were in ramshackles basement this early. But you needed clothes somehow. For some reason, the dorm basement seemed to have an endless supply of clothes.

They were mostly Victorian and made you look like an old lady but you knew how to do something upcycling. This time, in particular, you were looking for a dress shirt. Grim held up a light assisting you with your search.

But every so often he got freaked out thinking he saw something and dropped it. “It’s probably just a ghost playing tricks on us!” You would yell at him.

This time in particular he yelped jumping a couple of feet in the air all because of a fly. He landed on something hard that practically shattered his back.

“Oh my god,” you exclaimed. You dashed over to the area where he fell. “Are you happy over my pain,” he cried. “No look at what you found for me scaredy cat!” Grim had landed on a brown chest and from what you could see it had no lock.

“Yes, just my luck.” Your hands went to pry the old dusty thing open but it wouldn’t budge. So you tried again lifting the handle. You chuckled now getting a little frustrated. “Move out of the way,” Grim demanded.

“Let the strong member of this dorm handle this.” Yeah okay,” you scoffed. “As if your paws could move it an inch,” you whispered. “What was that Y/n?” Nothing,” you snickered.

You stood back watching him do his so-called magic. And again the chest wouldn’t budge. Now you were entirely pissed off. The clothes that were in this chest better be the most beautiful you have seen.

You and Grim dragged the chest upstairs. It was heavy having to weigh at least 50 pounds. Now the two of you had better lighting. You could now see the seal that stopped you from getting your precious treasure.

Grim knawed on the box with his strongest asset his fangs. But still, nothing happened. You who had the strength of a 10-year-old weren’t much better opting to kick it. “Don’t hurt yourself, darling.” Your boyfriend warned you stopping your leg from colliding with the chest yet again.

“Hi Rook when did you get here,” you groaned. “A while ago it was fun to watch you guys,” he giggled. “You could’ve been helping us this whole time!” It’s okay I’m here now no need for struggle.”

Rook dug into his pocket and pulled out a long knife. “It was nice watching you two fall into desperation. Especially you my beauty you looked like you wanted to kick the chest into another dimension.”

“What’s in there that’s so important?” Well, I wanted to pick out a nice shirt for our date,” you admitted. “Oo I get to have an early peek then. Now I’m excited,” he smiled. He jammed the knife into the box's crack attempting to open it.

You could see his muscles flex as he did so. He was so handsome while he was focused. “Come on you got this Rook,” you and Grim cheered. “I’m trying but it’s resisting.” Rook was one of the strongest people you knew. He just had to open this chest.

He got up bringing the box outside. “This may get a little messy I don’t want the knife to accidentally break.” You and Grim chanted as his face grew red from exhaustion. “Rook you got this! Come on Rook you’re so close. Keep going,” you screamed.”

“Yeah come on Rook,” they mocked. You looked up to see your two goofy ass friends. “Don’t break his focus, you guys.” You warned Ace and Duece pushing them behind you.

“What’s even happening here,” Ace sighed. “He’s opening my chest and as you can see he’s not having the easiest time.” Yeah, I can tell look at how red he is,” Ace snickered.

“Dude Rook is jacked you couldn’t even last a second doing that,” Duce said. “Hey I have some muscles because of basketball,” Ace protested. Rook paused his actions at first you thought it was because he was annoyed but he dug into his uniform.

“Did this guy just pull out a damn arrow,” Ace gasped. Rook sure did along with other weapons. You held Grim and backed up nervous about what he was about to do. “Monsieur heart and spade may you please assist me.” Ace and Duece let out a breath of relief Rook wasn’t gonna kill them.

“Look here I’m gonna jam these into the crack and we’ll all push and pull at the same time got it.” Yes,” they agreed. “Okay on my count 1,2,3,” Rook heaved. They pulled and pushed both their hands popping out thick veins.

You and Grim watched in amazement. “It’s still not opening,” you huffed. Your head fell in your hands but quickly raised itself hearing distant chanting. Multiple people from other dorms who were passing by lined up against your fence to watch the whole ordeal.

Your fence filled up quickly and you saw too many familiar faces not to join them. By now Rooks skin was practically a bright red. He had bent his leg to assist his hands in pulling his arrow down. You were surprised it hadn’t snapped. Ace pulled with all his might his knees wobbly as he knelt on the ground. Duece practically dug into the chest heavily creasing his shoes.

They continued to struggle painful groans and pants now drowned out by cheers. But their body pressure soon became too much as they snapped backward into your garden. Their weapons still remained as they dusted themselves off.

The crowd booed them disappointed by the ending. You couldn’t stand to see them getting humiliated so you marched towards them. “Since y’all love to talk so much why don’t you try to open this chest your self?”

You challenged them but not one of them stepped up except your headmage. “This whole ordeal was entertaining but I can’t stand to see my dear students disappointed. I’m too nice of a guy for that,” Crowley whined.

He walked over to the chest laying it face up. “Watch and learn,” he winked. He used his walking stick to hit the box. You watched as it opened in one swig but something was suspicious about it.

His smile moved strangely almost as though he was talking while doing so. That’s when it hit you. “He used a spell to open it,” you snitched. The crowd's oos and ahhs soon stopped.

“I guess I can finally see what’s in the chest.” You sat the chest upright so naturally it closed on its own. You opened up feeling proud that you were able to do so. The others joined you as you peeled it open slowly excited to see what you worked so hard for.

You opened it fully to see…. Nothing.

[limeade-l3sbian]

I know you as a lesbian most likely don’t have an opinion on the matter but i’m curious how many febfem radfems actually completely reject men because of their feminism or if it’s other reasons? like with me, even way before i became a radical feminist, i just never had any interest in men as people whatsoever. some of them might be pretty to look at to an extent, but their substance in my life seemed more negative than any potential small positives. i also just don’t find them nearly as attractive as women overall. women interest me, other women and i share similar experiences, we have similar physical struggles and worries usually, and yet despite all that women are so incredibly varied. discovering radical feminism has made my rejection of men gain even more ground, but it’s really not what made it initially. maybe i’m truly sexist but men just seem like such half people to me. their humor, their dismissals, their behavior, their aggression, their sexuality, all of it is so animal and off putting and demeaning to have to interact with and even 12 year old me could never see myself with a husband but a wife came easily, even if i as i aged have come to realize i don’t want marriage, i still do still as easily see a relationship with a woman taking place but a relationship with a male, even just a sexual one night thing, seems torturous and degrading. i have never believed in the good man or choosing well. even teen me just saw that as delusion and it wasn’t due to having read any data, it was simply due to having interacted with enough men and had enough male friends at the time(i don’t anymore) that i knew what they were like. even the “good ones”. that’s why to me, even though i’m bisexual technically, even entertaining the thought of being with a man is just silly. it is never hard. i’m wondering how many other febfems feel similar. or if they genuinely find it challenging.

will boost and let the febfems speak for themselves. <3

[withacapitalp]

Countdown Pt 3

Part One Part Two

Tw: Slight suicidal ideation and general grieving

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

They only carry a couple things with them on the run. 

Surviving the apocalypse isn’t pretty, and it’s easier to make a quick escape if they’re always traveling light. Essentials only, with a few sentimental items so they don’t completely lose their minds. 

Nancy had her journals, Max had her skateboard (even if she couldn’t use it right now), Will brought a pack of colored pencils, and Steve was pretty sure Hopper had somehow saved a half a pack of smokes. 

And Steve….Steve has a shoebox. 

It’s an old thing, held together with duct tape and decorated with sharpie doodles. Wayne had given it to him right before he left town, along with the necklace that Steve kept around his neck every moment of every day. 

He’s never let any of them look in it. They think he’s insane, but they’re not the ones with zeroed out timers.

This shoebox is all he has left of his soulmate. 

What’s inside would seem like junk to most people. A handful of rocks of varying size, shapes, and colors. A leather cuff with spikes that Steve had immediately put around his timer wrist to hide it from view. A matchbook from a gay bar in Indianapolis, a Spalding bouncy ball. Some hand-sewn patches with logos he didn’t recognize, three different mini figures, a dozen faded beautiful photographs, and a single mixtape. 

Only Robin knew about the mixtape. He had only told her in case they needed a song for him. That mixtape was the only thing in the world that had the song that could save his life. 

But the most important thing in that box was the letters. 

He read one every night. He had promised himself he wouldn’t read more than one. It was routine. When it was his turn to be on watch and the rest of their family was sound asleep, Steve would open his shoebox, pull out a letter, and read it. 

The first one is probably his favorite. It was written in dark red marker on yellow construction paper, the edges ripped and torn with age. The marker bled through the back of the paper where the child who wrote the letter had pressed down too hard, and Steve could imagine the way his fingers must have stained from the ink. Blood red. The same way his fingers were stained when he died. 

7/4/1971 

TWO SULMAYT,

HI.

I AM EDDIE MUNSON. I AM FIVE YEARS OLD. I LIKE TRUKS. YU SHUD LIKE THEM TO. WE CAN WATCH THE BIG TRUKS! 

WHAT IS YUR NAMY? 

BIE

LUV EDDIE

P. S. I HAD A NANA FOR BRIKFEST. YUM. 

There was a picture of two giant monster trucks under the words, and a tiny thing Steve assumed was a banana under the postscript. Steve keeps that one tucked in his jacket pocket, just in case he ever loses his bag or his precious shoebox. 

He keeps the first in his side pocket, and keeps the last one in the breast pocket right above his heart

6/13/1986

Hi Love,

The first one says ‘Two Sulmayt’ but every one after that starts with ‘Hi Love’. 

Steve can’t help wondering if Eddie would have eventually called him ‘Love’ if they had gotten more time. 

Well, if you’re reading this, then I guess my plan to be the one that lived really didn’t work out. Damn, that sucks. Probably a little bit more for you than for me. 

I don't know how you dealt with knowing we only had five days, but I thought it was kinda fucked. Like damn, really? Five? The universe sure has a funny sense of humor, doesn’t it, Love? Or maybe it just hates me. That is also a very real possibility. 

Maybe. But if the universe hated Eddie, then it must hate Steve more for making him continue to live. For giving him other people to love, people to care about, people to force him to not give up. 

Anyways this is how I dealt with it. If you only get five days to have me, I’m going to make sure you know me. Or know who I was at least. One letter a month for the last 12 years, and a bunch of random one off ones from when I was little. Before I lived with Wayne it was kind of catch as catch can with paper and stuff, and I was also like seven, so how many letters do you really want from a seven year old who still can’t spell ‘Difficulty’?

I know how to now, by the way. Mrs. D, Mrs. I, yada yada. Do you ever wonder why all those women are married? I think that’s stupid. Forced conformity, even in our nursery rhymes. 

That joke always made Steve laugh. He’s read this letter so many times it’s starting to come apart at the creases, but it still made him pause and chuckle. 

Anyways. This is yours. Eleven letters a year for twelve years is one hundred and thirty two. Adding in the ones from before, it’s probably around a hundred and fifty. It’s not the same as having me around, but if you spread them out, you might get thirteen years or so before you have to start rereading them. 

Or read them all in one sitting. Do whatever you want. 

Steve had counted. It was one hundred and forty one. He read one new one a night, because every single day they survived seemed like a miracle right now. 

He only had seventy three more left. 

Not like I can stop you, haha. 

That’s probably not as funny to you as I want it to be. Sorry, Love. 

It wasn’t funny. Not in the slightest. Steve wanted Eddie here, wanted him to tell him to wait. He wanted Eddie to write him more letters. 

Oh, I also included a bunch of stuff I thought was too cool to lose, and a mixtape with songs that I wrote for my band. I thought you might want to get to hear my voice. It’s probably stupid, but you don’t have to listen to them if you don’t want to. 

Steve listened to it. They had been forced to scrounge up new batteries for his walkman three times because it kept dying. 

Everything in this box is yours, Wayne has strict instructions to give it to you. And, anything of mine Wayne doesn’t want is for you too.

Wow. A whole trust fund of trailer park trash. Some people leave their soulmates huge inheritances. I left you rocks and pictures and a shit ton of letters. Aren’t you lucky, Love? 

He was lucky. He had seventy three more letters. Seventy three more reasons to survive another day. 

After that…Steve wasn’t sure if he would be lucky anymore. 

Now if you’re good at math- which I hope you are, because I’m terrible at it- then you might be saying to yourself ‘Is my soulmate an idiot? Does he not know there’s twelve months in a year?’ 

No. I’m actually incredibly smart, even though my grades don’t really show it. I rewrite this top of the box letter every year on my birthday, and then I burn the last one. It’s a fun, extremely morbid, tradition. 

I’m 20 today, Love. I wonder how old you are a lot. I hope you’re close to my age at least. Maybe you’re like fifty years older than me, and I meet you when you’re on your deathbed, and that’s why we only have five days. 

They had only gotten five days because Steve hadn’t just taken Eddie and run. He should have just told Eddie to go as far from Hawkins as possible the second he realized. Fuck the rest of the world, fuck stopping the apocalypse. The best part of Steve was already dead. 

Two whole decades, but somehow I’m still in high school. I failed. Again. I wrote a lot about it in my letter last month, so I’m not going to talk about it again. Suffice to say I’m pretty bummed. I mean, c’mon, even Steve Harrington managed to graduate last year, and that guy barely even went to class during senior year. 

That part of the letter always made his stomach turn. He hated the reminder of all the wasted time, the little nudge that always told him it was his fault they barely had any time. 

If he had only looked up. 

Oh, well. This one is it. ‘86 baby! I’d say I want this to be the year I meet you, but I really want to graduate, so maybe hold off for just one more year? Stay wherever you are for just twelve more months, Love, just to be safe. Then I can put a picture of me flipping off my principal in this box for you. I’ll add my diploma in too, just to prove to you I did it. 

Eddie wasn’t going to get a diploma. 

If you wait a year, I’ll give you twelve more letters. So just wait one more year. By then, I think I’ll know what to say to make this better. I’ll know what to do to fill the gap I know you’re going to have. I’ll have something to say that will fix all this. I say that every year, and I never do, but hey, ‘86. 

Nothing anyone said would fix this. Nothing Eddie could write would fill the hole left in Steve’s soul. Nothing. 

I’m sorry. 

I say that every year too. 

Steve didn’t want apologies. He didn’t want letters. He didn’t want a hard to hear voice on a single mixtape. 

He wanted Eddie. 

Well. Happy birthday to me. One more year without meeting you. Eleven more letters. You better be doing something just as nice for me in case it's you that bites it, or I’m bringing your ass back just to kill you again. 

Steve didn’t care if Eddie killed him. Eddie could reappear right now and immediately shoot Steve and he would die happy. He just wanted one more minute. Just a little more time. 

…Wait just a little bit longer. I’ll have better words next year. 

Can you do that for me, Love?

P.S. You should read the first letter I wrote to you, just to appreciate how eloquent and charming I am in this one. 

Eddie called him ‘Love’. Eddie asked him to wait. Eddie wanted to have the right words. He wanted to live long enough to save Steve from his own broken heart.

Steve wishes he had waited.