#me: i don't know what to say about holly

[makiswirl]

can i just say. and this is probably a niche hill to die on. that i am so gobsmacked every time someone vaguely hints at the idea that jotaro doesn't care meaningfully for the other crusaders, usually particularly kakyoin and joseph, when those two actually tend to be the ones he reacts to being hurt the hardest

like he cares for his loved ones!!!! that literally plays into his character motives in every single part he shows up in!!! stop lying to me!!!!!!!

[lovegrowsart]

calling a lesbian showrunner predatory because she put some sexual implications into her star wars show is out of line queerphobic btw like genuinely think about what you're implying/invoking if you're gonna criticise her or her creative decisions....

[piningpercussionist]

Oh you've heard of me? That's good to hear.

But I feel like no one showing up on your shift is better since then no one bothers you and such. :)

-✨ Anon (Sparkles Anon)

I keep an eye around. I try not to look at everyone else's blogs too much, but I see something here and there. I know there's you, a cat, a rabbit.. two actually, maybe? I think I saw a snail once? Things seem very chaotic over in their sphere. I'm taking my peace while I can.

So in a very similar sense, yeah, it is I guess! When I'm not exhausted coming in, I usually spend days like that watching a bunch of crappy old movies we have stashed in the back; there are some real gems back there if you know where to look.

Not to imply they're actually good films, by the way. I do just mean astonishingly terrible. Like a car crash where all the cars involved are clown cars or something suitably stupid like that...

[incorrectbatfam]

Have you seen the tiktok going around that's a guy talking to his kids like "The more you sass me, the more I'm gonna flirt with your mother!" That but it's Bruce threatening to leave his comms on deliberately when he's around Selina if the baby bats don't start behaving themselves on patrol.

Bruce: The more you sass me, the more I'm gonna flirt with your parents.

Dick: Jokes on you, I'm an orphan.

Bruce: Alright then.

Bruce: *flirts with Commissioner Gordon*

Bruce: *flirts with Barry*

Bruce: *goes to space*

Bruce: *flirts with Luand'r*

Dick: STOP THOSE ARE MY IN-LAWS!

———————

Cass: *blinks*

Bruce: That's it. I've had it with your attitude.

Bruce: *goes out with Lady Shiva*

———————

Bruce: *walks in with a bouquet of flowers*

Luke: Uh... what's all this for?

Bruce: Remember the other week when you called my prototype strobe light batarang stupid?

Luke: ...Because it is?

Bruce: Well, guess what?

Bruce: *gives the flowers to Lucius*

———————

Jason: And what if I don't? What are you gonna do, let me die again?

Bruce: No.

Bruce: *opens Grindr*

Jason: You wouldn't.

Bruce: Oh yes I would.

Bruce: *slides into Ollie's DMs*

———————

Tim: It's a good thing I never introduced you to Bernard's family.

Bruce: I could always look them up in the phone book.

Tim: What year are you living in?

Bruce: I'm just kidding. I'll be back in an hour. Hold down the fort for me, m'kay buddy?

Tim: Yeah, sure.

[an hour later]

Bruce: *walks in holding hands with Lex Luthor and Max Mercury*

Tim: What the...?

Bruce: I still know your best friends' parents.

Lex: This is what you handcuffed me for?

Bruce: Shush, I'm making a point.

———————

Bruce: We go in on my signal.

Steph: This is my dad we're talking about. I'm not gonna sit around and risk him getting away.

Steph: *swings onto the scene*

Bruce: *follows her*

Steph: Stop right there, Cluemaster—BATMAN WHAT THE FUCK?!?

Bruce: *sweeps Arthur off his feet*

———————

Bruce: *lecturing Damian*

Damian: Tt.

Bruce: One second.

Bruce: *pulls out his phone*

Bruce: Hey Talia, I was wondering if you had dinner plans tonight?....Yes, Damian is misbehaving again.....7:30? Perfect!

———————

Duke: You've never met my friends' or girlfriend's parents and Jokerized people can't consent, so...

Bruce: *turns on the computer*

Bruce: *emails the immortal entity Gnomon*

Bruce: *gets a reply*

Bruce: Alfred, fetch my tux.

———————

The voice in Bruce's head: *says mean things*

Bruce: Oh yeah? Well how do you like THIS?

Bruce: *proposes to Selina*

———————

Holly: *flips him off*

Bruce: *proposes to Selina*

Selina: Again? That's the second time today.

———————

Julia: You're nothing a bloody angst-addled egotistical baby twat!

Bruce: *looks at her*

Bruce: *looks at Alfred*

Bruce: This isn't gonna work.

[poisonousquinzel]

@steaming-goblet-of-nutte-mylk

😭 except Joker's history with sexist behavior, his now over 3 decade long abusive dynamic with Harley, his gross obsession with Batman that has turned into SA before, the events of The Killing Joke & Barbara becoming paralyzed, are all significant and frankly Popular Joker plot points. It is consistent, it's his character at this point.

There's absolutely an issue in comics / their fandoms with inconsistency and back n fourth characterizations, as a Harley fan god I know skdjskd

But Joker is not a character who's greatly affected by it. Like at all.

He's very consistent being an abusive, sexist pig with an obsession towards Batman.

And there is someone who wrote a comic where he won't work with Nazis, that's why folks bring it up. Because 1 time he did a morally decent thing of doing the literal bare minimum & not working with scum of the earth Nazis.

But things like him being abusive or sexist or gross towards Batman aren't aren't rare Batshit Insane plots that happened here and there and Are Inconsistent. Him not being like that is inconsistent.

These aren't things that only people who Really read DC / Gotham related comics know about. Him sexually assaulting Batman maybe since that comic isn't a primary timeline one, but his obsession with Bats is quite literally these people's proof of him being queercoded. So, no.

Joker's actions in these plots are the foundation for his relationships with Batman & Harley, and Barbara no longer being Batgirl and becoming Oracle is directly tied to Joker's horrid actions when he paralyzed her, she's Oracle Right Now.

Sure, especially with Harley, I don't expect people to know every single horrendous thing he's done to her because frankly, there's a Fuck Ton, and I didn't even list it all, I didn't even list half. (Hell, I'm sure there's still moments that I haven't come across yet and that's saying something cause I've consumed just about every single piece of Harley media out there)

But The Killing Joke is a popular DC story, his unhinged obsession with Batman is like the only thing his character is, if you know he's obsessed with Batman, then you know the basics of his character.

And his relationship with Harley has Always been abusive. Like, if all these folks have seen of DC is BTAS, then they still know that. Joker not being abusive towards her is significantly more rare, inconsistent, and Batshit Insane tbf. And 9/10 times the "good moments" are clear as day love bombing to anyone consuming the content that's got more than 1 brain cell, it's just love bombing. It's called the cycle of abuse for a reason.

That's why I said "like y'all's only reference for him is the fucking Lego Movie and GOD it shows" because that's how they act he is all the time. It DOES show.

The Lego Batman Movie Joker is the outlier, he's the inconsistent one when compared to 99% of Joker's out there.

people in the replies of this keep mentioning Joker and him being queercoded n shit and it's just like 😭😭😭😭 y'all are so stupid I stg

Yeah the best example of a good villain whose not bigoted is *checks notes* the dude who violently abused his bisexual girlfriend, drugged her, pushed her into chemicals, ran her over with a car, infected her pet hyenas with rabies and had them attack her, hung her up by the neck with a chain, tried to forcefully impregnate her, pretended he was going to cut her face off to make her scared, made fun of her appearance to her face and to his goons, cut the side of her mouth open with a shaving blade, put a hit out on her, carved a J into her chest, pushed her out of a window 5 stories up, has kicked - punched - slapped - strangled more times than I could list individually,,,,, or has sexually assaulted Batman, and has sexually assaulted Barbara Gordon, is implied to have sexually assaulted someone in Joker (2008), oh and forced Harley to strip in a public crowded bar under threat of detonating the bombs in her and the squad's necks if she didn't. So ya know, also sa.

but hey !!! at least he's not said a slur! and he won't work with Nazis! as if that's not the literal bare minimum. Wow he won't work with Nazis, fucking NAZIS, do you want me to applaud him for doing the easiest thing that any person with even mildly decent or existent morals would decide? Ya know, not working with goddamn Nazis.

No one should be working with fucking nazis?? The bar is in hell.

Being an abusive borderline rapist with a sky high sexist streak is just casual Worst Villain behavior, he's not a bigot!

Everyone knows you're only a bigot of you 1. Say Slurs 2. Work with Nazis.

That's obviously the only qualifying criteria for being a bigot.

-

The Joker is a whole entire sexist with a history of severe in character abuse and sexual assault. but none of that matters to ((unfortunately large)) sections of the fandom or to locals cause some of y'all would rather just pretend he's an uwu messy gay dude who's just oh so in love with Batman and is not a sexist, abusive bigot cause fuck women and the suffering he enjoys putting them through right? like y'all's only reference for him is the fucking Lego Movie and GOD it shows

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine giving Shanks baby fever

At a tavern

Child: I wanna join your crew!

Shanks: pfft, no way

Child: I'm a real good fighter, I won't get in the way, I promise!

Shanks: hmmm, [taps his chin and looks like he's thinking about it]

Child: [thinks he's going to get a chance]

Shanks: hmm...Hmmm?... No

Child: aw come on

Child's mother: [barges into the tavern holding her infant] Julius Antony D. Frost! What do you think you are doing here? You haven't finished your chores, the goats got hungry and two of them broke into the house!

Child: but mom!

Child's mother: here hold this [foists her infant into your arms and drags her son off by his ear]

You: ??? [Looks to the local barkeep for help]

Barkeep: she'll be back when she realizes, just look after that little girl until then.

You: [pulls the infant closer to you and glowers]

Barkeep: I know it's a little unorthodox, but that lady has six kids, you're holding her only daughter, and her husband is a fisherman. This means he's gone most of the time, and her five eldest boys keep her busy, so please don't judge her, we help her out as much as she'll allow.

You: fine, [goes over to your table with Shanks]

Shanks: [cocks his head and gets a good look at the baby]

Baby: [looks at Benn and starts to cry]

Shanks: [pushes Benn away] You're scaring the baby.

Benn: ay! Ay! Alright, alright, I'll move.

You: [bounces the infant, pats it on the back, and starts to sing to try]

Baby: [settles down, and relaxes against your shoulder]

Shanks: wow, I didn't know you were so good with kids.

You: I didn't either... [Turns to the barkeep] Can I get this table wiped down so I can set the baby down?

Barkeep: [ obliges]

You: [sits the baby's weight down on the table, but keeps your arm around her so she's still leaning against you] Are you the cutest baby in the world?

Baby: ◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜

You: [gasps] Yes you are, you are the cutest baby in the whole world. [Gently tickles her tummy]

Baby: [giggles]

The crew: [find the two of you painfully adorable]

Baby: [ turns to Shanks and makes grabby hands at him]

Shanks: [ leans in closer]

Baby: [grabs a handful of his hair]

Shanks: she's got a good grip on her, how old is she? A year?

Barkeep: yeah, fourteen months, I think.

You: oh I could just eat you up, yes I could! In fact, I think I will. [Blows raspberries on her tummy]

Baby: [erupts into laughter]

You: [ pulls the baby back to your chest, leans back against Shanks, and smiles up at him] She still has that baby smell.

Shanks: (⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠)

Child's mother: [bursts through the establishment's doors] Holly!

Baby: [whips around to look at her mother]

Child's mother: oh thank God, thank you for looking after her, I'm so sorry.

You: it's okay, she's easy to deal with, plus from the looks of it you had your hands full. [ Passes her her child]

Child's mother: she is, isn't she? Thank you have a nice day. [Leaves with her child]

Later that night

Benn: you've been eyeing them all night, what's up.

Shanks: [shifts his gaze from you to Benn] So I'm not as subtle as I thought I was... I dunno. Ever since seeing them with the baby, what was her name? Holly?... I guess I can't get it out of my head.

Benn: oh you've got baby fever, don't cha?

Shanks: [blushes] maybe

Benn: I thought you didn't want kids on this boat anymore?

Shanks: I don't, that hasn't changed. [Gets up and heads over to you] What do you say we call it a night?

You: hmm, alright, I'm getting tired anyway. [Lets Shanks lead you to the Captain's quarters]

Shanks: [is handsy with you the whole way]

You: [doesn't mind] You seem rather frisky tonight, or at least friskier than usual.

Shanks: Sorry, but seeing how good you are with kids really ignited something within me. [Smooches up and down your neck]

You: I thought you didn't want kids?

Shanks: For Fuck's sake, I don't, not yet, but that doesn't mean I don't want to practice. [Dumps you on the bed and starts to take off his pants.]

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[petermorwood]

Recently I got roped (ha) into an Age of Sail roleplay, and decided I wanted to play the ship's cook. I then realized I don't know too much about provisioning a ship in the Age of Sail! I figured you'd be the sort of fellow to know where I could find resources on that kind of information though?

Well, for a start I recommend sending a similar Ask to @ltwilliammowett (Beat To Quarters) who knows far more about The Age of Sail / Wooden Ships & Iron Men subject than I do.

*****

In the meanwhile here are a couple of books, both of which you may well be able to get through your library, or buy pretty cheaply for your research library. They're also an entertaining read.

The first was recommended to me by Terry Pratchett - "'If you haven't read it, you should!" - when we were at a con together and he was researching "Nation".

It's "Feeding Nelson's Navy" by Janet MacDonald, available here as an ebook and from Amazon as a Kindle Unlimited free read.

The second is "Lobscouse & Spotted Dog" by Anne Chotzinoff Grossman & Lisa Grossman Thomas.

Funny how both books use the same period image - "Shipmates Carousing Below Decks" by William Pyne - as cover art.

"Lobscouse" deals with the same period as "Navy", while also being the author-approved official cookbook of Patrick O'Brian's "Aubrey / Maturin" novels.

Here's a Reddit about making dishes from it, and here's a blog page about making Spotted Dog and why Suet Makes a Difference.

I've already posted about the role correct cooking fats play in making traditional dishes "taste right", and since Atora brand makes both carnivore and vegetarian suets, it's worth tracking down.

Here's a blog page which summarises the Age of Sail diet - think of it as an exam crib to tide you over until you get the books and learn more.

*****

Here's Max Miller of "Tasting History" making lobscouse:

And here are Dylan Hollis and Max making that ubiquitous on-board delicacy and culinary ingredient, ship's biscuit (hardtack / hard-tack / hard tack).

Something very similar was still issued as a ration item at the beginning of the 20th century and into World War One. J.R.R. Tolkien would certainly have encountered Biscuits, Ration, H&P, Army No.4...

...and may well have used them as a basis for the waybread "cram" as mentioned in "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". This description has the ring (hah!) of familiarity about it.

"If you want to know what cram is, I can only say that I don’t know the recipe; but it is biscuitish, keeps good indefinitely, is supposed to be sustaining, and is certainly not entertaining, being in fact very uninteresting except as a chewing exercise." "The Hobbit" ch.13, "Not at Home"

No.4 biscuits were so hard that soldiers could use them as substitutes for wood...

...and Nelson's sailors probably did the same with theirs.

*****

Terry Pratchett took this wooden quality and - with the dial turned up to eleven - transformed it into the rocky quality of Dwarf bread.

Here's a health nut's real-life version of a healthy nut loaf...

...while this is an example of sedimentary conglomerate rock.

With a bit of judicious cropping, the captions could be swapped and a casual glance would never notice.

Of course this post wouldn't be complete without a certain GIF.

So...

*****

To finish, a few links to more video.

One (12 years ago).

Two - 1 year, including some of the ship's biscuit made in that first one (!)

Three - also 1 year, featuring other dishes - pease pudding ("dog's body"), lobscouse and plum duff. Oh, and ship's biscuit ...

Those are from Townsends, another great source for 18th century food and cooking.

This last example is by Dan Snow, in an extract from a longer History Hits documentary, and is a short general overview of period Navy rations - and of course, ship's biscuit... :->

HTH !

[burningcheese-merchant]

Psst, hear me out: The Beast being fucking yanderes with the ancients.

You Get It™️ I mean... Did you guys see episode 6? Burning Simp Cookie is already a yandere lol. He's been there and he refuses to leave. And Shadow Milk is honestly not that far behind, he feels some type of way towards Pure Vanilla and it would be cute if it wasn't so sad and creepy lol

Really though, I just love hero/villain ships in general (always have, since long before Cookie Run ever existed) and I get a kick out of villains acting stupid over crushes (read: obsessions), and acting stupid in general. There's just something about a villain being in love with the hero to a psychotic, comical degree, and the hero rebuffing them at every turn that's just really amusing to me lol. Like what Joker sort of has with Batman, you know?

Here are my Yandere Beasts in bare-bones terms:

Burning Spice: come on, if you've read my stuff, you know EXACTLY what Yandere Spice is like lol. If not, I'll refer you to this and this, as well as my fics on AO3. If those don't tell you what Yandere Spice is like then idk how else to help you lol

Shadow Milk: if the final boss of theater/drama kids had a crush but was also a malignant narcissist of some sort lol. Absolutely DESPERATE for Vanilla's attention at all times. If he's not actively trying to worm into Vanilla's brain and harass him in his thoughts and dreams, he's in the real world brainstorming better ways to do that lol. He does not grasp why the creepy puppet shows and gaslighting attempts aren't convincing Vanilla to fall in love with him. Will attack and torment and insult Vani in one breath and then praise and love and worship him in another, because he's a histrionic clown freak with whirlwind emotions. But above all else, he literally thinks he owns Vani and is meticulously plotting the horrible and hilarious demise of any and all he perceives as a threat to their union

Eternal Sugar: World's Laziest Stalker™️. Almost exclusively haunts Holly in her dreams (I have to assume that that's what her power will entail, as the Beast of Sloth); however, she's more "effective" in her wooing attempts due to her past experience as the Herald of Happiness. She actually goes out of her way to construct dreams and the like that have things in them that make Holly happy (or what she thinks makes Holly happy; she, as well as the others, has big tunnel vision and is very selfish and self-absorbed, and thus pays more lip service to her own wants than those of who she loves/obsesses over). Thankfully doesn't run into Holly in person often because that's work... but sometimes she DOES work up the nerve to go after her for real, and... well

Mystic Flour: Denial, denial, denial. Not just a river in Egypt the Golden Cheese Kingdom, but she'll say and act like otherwise. No, she does not like Dark Cacao. He robbed her of her volition and the chance to enact her will. He prevented her from freeing the world from pain and suffering. He is a stubborn fool who refuses to understand the truth. He... is very handsome. She does not like how handsome he is. It is distracting. She doesn't like dwelling on her memories of him and their encounters. She doesn't like how she came to harbor a single kernel of respect in her heart after he stood his ground against her; a kernel that she inadvertently nurtured and cultivated slowly but surely, until... no. No, she doesn't like Dark Cacao. She doesn't think about him all day. She doesn't want to try to lure him back to her land so she can trap him in the flour fog with her again. She doesn't miss feeling his dark eyes on her. She doesn't deeply resent his attachment to his people, and seek to transfer that attachment to her instead. No, she... damn it, he's ruined her. He's made her feel things again. He's made her succumb to selfishness and greed, to earthly desire and attachment - desire for HIM, attachment to HIM. All of her hard work and enlightenment gone to waste... She doesn't want to like Dark Cacao, she recognizes the folly in such a thing, but she's stuck - and so stuck is she that not only does she not really see a way out, she doesn't WANT one. She's become too content with her attachment to him too quickly. Now she has to agonize over her own foolishness, and try to keep denying that she doesn't care while also longing for his attention and wanting to do away with all that steals his attention away from her

Silent Salt: probably the least awful of the five, but he's still creepy and that's not a high bar to clear anyway lol. Has a better grasp on "normal" behavior than the others (like... he pays attention to what White Lily likes/wants and tries to adjust accordingly), but he's following her around everywhere and acting extremely violent and territorial over her towards anyone who he catches approaching her. He's legitimately, surprisingly sweet and gentle towards her; he brings her flowers, he listens to her when she asks/tells him something, he's more or less respectful of her personal space (he will try to be as physically close to her as possible, but actually backs off a little if she asks him to, only to try again, and so on and so forth)... but he's still a villain, he's still violent and creepy, he still gets angry when she pays attention to other people for too long and he has brought actual harm to others out of jealousy. He's the best of the worst but that really doesn't mean much of anything, he's still a psycho creep like the others

In short, they form a tight-knit coalition of absolutely fucking deranged freakazoids and they should all probably die :)

[mikodrawnnarratives]

*cracks knuckles* @paper-lilypie

WEDDING BELLS YALL

and brainrot. I've been sketching these ideas out for like, a year. And done nothing with them until this point

this has been festering. in my mind.

*note: I didn't get around to drawing it, but I imagine Sun, Moon, and Y/n say their vows at the Bell place thingie that I need to reread in the fic. Y'know, the place Moon climbs up to, to get away from y/n. Yeh they declare their love up there and smoochies*

I should really reread that bit actually lol

Before moving forward, I'm gonna rant about outfits

this is the outfit that I base Sun and Moon's wedding look on because I just think it fits so well. I share this so you guys see the vision and forgive my inexperience with drawing these folds

Cool? cool.

Also, I went through several variations of what Y/n would wear before settling on this bc nothing that came up when I searched "gender neutral wedding gear" really fit

Wanted a mix between gown and suit and y'know this ended up being more suit but I like it a lot so we're going with that. It also came to me in a vision so that has to say something.

(Ok but I did envision Y/n having a dress similar to this one character's dress in Bad Guys but I couldn't draw it so I scrapped it)

(ok some details stayed but most of the concept had to go)

so like- you see it right?

Btw. All of them (including guests) have pockets. just. to ease your mind.

ok back to actually drawn wedding shenanigans

Because, there are many, wedding shenanigans

Y'know the trend of smashing wedding cake into the bride/groom/wedded partner's face right?

There's no way this wouldn't escalate and y/n wouldn't enlist their siblings in the chaos.

They'll get like- one or two good wedding pics before this.

the cake tasted good tho

Let me just say. I am so proud of how I did these hands I'm oogling my own art I did so good GHGHHHHHHFDS

I like??? Want to do more?????

cuties shenanigans below they are obnoxious and they know it

By the way by the way you may notice the flower dress

I WILL be getting around to Lily x DCA STUFF I WILL

Tho I got busy and had a really hard time drawing/finishing sketches when I did have time so. I chose to post what I have so far so it's out before November ends

CONSIDER THIS A PART 1

LILY YOU ARE NOT SAFE

well Ig u are safe

for nowwwww

Bouquet toss real

fun fact I initially wanted to draw Sun, Moon, and Copper y/n tossing the bouquet together

but their arm lengths would NOT make that work kjfdkljsdklj

so y/n tosses the bouquet bc they are the specialest

(Or they won the round of monopoly)

(who's to say)

(we don't talk about game night)

But all three of them are the criminal. masterminds. They planned this from the start. Holly and Chica HAD NO CHANCE after the role they played in getting Y/N AND SUN AND MOON together.

I think this video would also be something cute that I could see happening for their wedding lol

Y/n and the daycare attendants hand the bouquet to Holly and then she gets proposed to by Chica

Anyway I still have a whole list of wedding shenanigans I need to draw

Sarah and Yao being some because when I tried before I couldn't sketch them out to my liking.

And the more CCRT gets expanded on, the more I'm sure will be present in their wedding since there are only 3 chapters out so far and enough art for me to make my guesses dlkkldsf

I'm sure there are plenty of fun things that can be included into this wedding, or edited, once more is revealed of the characters and their relationships

and who would be wedding guests is a little more up in the air, for instance and... who'd be able to show up in the first place considering unknown state of... living

(*cough cough*-Glamrock Foxy-*cough cough*)

...and being on good terms! thats.. important too. y'know moon and foxy weren't really exes but it may still be a bit awkward if he got invited y'know yknow

[back2bluesidex]

Slide - The Vacation - MYG

Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 

Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: 

"I can see the pain in your eyes I don't wanna say that I'm God, but I'll take you to heaven if you die" 

Alternatively, 

Yoongi finally finds an answer to all of his questions.

Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics

Warnings: Angst, angst and angst

Minors do not interact!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (for early access)

Taglist requests are closed for now

A/N: This chapter has both readers and Yoongi's pov.

Read the next chapter

“I want to try being with you. If you’d let me.” Yoongi had said, just less than an hour ago, standing at your dining place. 

If you have ever thought you would be squealing like a schoolgirl when he mistakenly professes his love for you - then you had been wrong. Because those words of his - rang hollow. 

Those words of his had no promise, no meaning, only a tone of experiment - or maybe less than that. 

Your tears have dried up. You have cried much more in the span of a year than you ever had in these twenty eight years of life. 

So you don’t cry. 

Even when you stare at your bathroom mirror, without the sign of another life springing into you - you don’t cry. 

Even when the metallic smell of your own blood-soaked sheets dances around your senses - you don’t cry. 

Even when Yoongi’s voice saying he doesn’t know what he feels for you rings loudly in your head - you don’t cry. 

The woman who is standing at the place of your reflection is you - but emptier. 

Now, truly, you have nothing left in yourself. 

The baby is gone, Yoongi is gone, you - yourself - are gone. 

When Yoongi broke and scattered the broken pieces all over your sanity, you picked those up, put them up in a stack. 

Now that you are at the same place, who is going to do that for you? 

No one? 

Yourself. 

So you decide, you need a vacation. 

Attachment and Expectations are two human behaviors that you have always dreaded. 

You have purposefully stayed away from everyone, whoever you thought would get you attached. And you have always expected the least positive outcome whenever it comes to human connections. 

At the beginning, Yoongi was no exception. 

You admired him but never stepped past the professional boundaries in fear of getting attached, until he broke the norms. 

Even when you realized you fell in love, you expected nothing more than the warmth of his body. But your resolve weakened whenever he looked at you for a little longer than necessary, whenever he shared tales about Holly, whenever he treated you to a meal. 

Now that you are determined to heal yourself - you realize this is the root of the problem. 

You are attached to Yoongi and you have expected Yoongi to have a similar feeling towards you. 

Wrong. So wrong. 

You need to break free. 

So, you try to save what’s left of your sanity and avoid looking at Yoongi as he and Namjoon sit right across from you in the same meeting room where everything went south a month and half ago. 

Your feet bounce under the table, your breath shortens under Namjoon’s scrutinizing eyes. 

“Y/N, tell us what’s wrong? Why suddenly - I mean, I am not saying no your application but you have hardly ever been to such a long holiday? And if I am being honest, then you look quite unwell. Is there something we should know?” Namjoon is concerned, you know that. You are even grateful but you have no energy to answer him, no energy to lie anymore. 

You have no will to spend another minute inside the same room as Yoongi - because no matter what - you love him and you want him to wrap his hands around you and let you cry in his embrace. 

You want him to mourn with you. 

You want him to mourn for you. 

“I was pregnant. I lost the baby two nights ago. I am neither mentally nor physically fit to work for now. Besides, I don’t have any important projects going on.” you reply flatly. 

Saying these words out loud, makes things even more real. 

Pain crawls back inside your heart and fills your eyes to the brim. 

Namjoon has gone quiet. 

Yoongi has always been silent. 

“O-oh.. I- I didn’t know. I’m sorry. It must be tough, Y/N. Please take care of yourself.” Namjoon fumbles with words, a rare sight. 

Funny how your misery has rendered the smart ones dumb. 

He approves your leave in his laptop as you raise your feet to leave. 

“Are you going alone?” His voice interrupts your action. 

Yoongi doesn’t look at you, he stares blankly at the table. 

“Yes.” you reply.

“Stay safe.” he adds. 

And you want nothing more than to scream at him, to tell him that he fucked you up. But in reality you know he is troubled too - that it’s your fault as much as it's his.  

“Sure.” you mutter, as you quietly slip out of the room. 

Two nights ago when you left the bathroom the first thing you did was to look for your phone. When you found it laying idly by your laptop on your desk, you dialed Hoseok’s number for the second time that evening. 

You were incredibly sorry to him. 

He was but a stranger to you and had no responsibility of attending to your troubles but still he showed up when you called him sitting on your bloody bed and came rushing to you despite being busy. 

This time too, he received your call right after two rings. 

“I need a vacation, Hoseok. Do you.. Do you know any wellness retreats that might help me?” you asked.

“That’s a really good thought, Y/N. I will send you a few links, check those out, okay?” he replied. 

And that’s how you ended up packing your bags for a month-long retreat in Thailand. 

Yoongi didn’t come back home that night. 

He went straight to a snack bar and drank seven bottles of distilled Soju all alone. 

However, he didn’t black out this time. He knew there would be no calling you if he passed out on the floor, covered in vomit and mud. 

He knew there would be no kindness from your side - he doesn’t deserve it - he never had. 

While he drank the only thing he could recall is that you were carrying his baby. That you were on the very first step of being a mother and him a father. 

Weird how, if these same words would have come out Gyuri’s mouth, he would have freaked out so bad. 

But it’s you. And whenever he thought of you, he could picture a quiet life. A condo in an upscale neighborhood, floor to ceiling windows where he could enjoy mellow sunlight sitting on the couch with you. 

Where he could cook for you in the kitchen and then serve you food piping hot or maybe feed you upon blowing a little. 

Those thoughts had always shaken him to the core, made him question his feelings towards you but at the end of the day, he always left himself with no answer. 

On the next morning when he woke up with the worst hangover ever, he decided to do what you have asked him to. 

He decided to give himself time and question himself regularly, repeatedly, that what is it that he feels for you? 

And while doing so, he decided to stay away from you - give you time to find your footing and mourn for the loss. 

He decides to mourn too. 

However, he got completely ruined like a damp wall with several cracks when he read your leave application. 

You had applied for a month-long holiday. 

A month without you? Without seeing you for a glance? Without hearing from you, even a word? Without having to watch you pressing the button on the seventh floor on the elevator, without your quiet sitting figure in the meetings, without your habit of writing lyrics on pen and paper rather than using your ipad? 

Can he… can he survive? 

“Y/N..” he finds himself following you after you leave the meeting room. 

You don’t startle, nor do you turn back. You stand in the middle of the corridor and wait for him to finish his sentence. 

“When are you leaving?” he asks from where his feet are stuck on the floor. 

“Tomorrow morning.” you reply briefly. 

“Incheon?” 

“Gimpo” 

“Can I come? To see you off?” 

“You don’t need to.”

“I want to. I want to see you off. I want to know… to know what I- what I feel for you.” 

He confesses to your back. 

You, probably, sigh. 

“Okay.” you say before walking off. 

When he reaches the airport as per the timing you have sent him - he sees you sitting a little far away from the check in counter. 

“Hey.” he approaches you. 

You look up at him with tired, blank eyes. Your eyes want to make him cry. 

“Hi. I was only waiting for you. I gotta go check in.” your voice is just as blank. 

He nods. 

“Bye.” you try to walk away from him. 

But he stops you with a hand on your wrist. 

“I will.. I will be here when you come back.” he whispers, only for you to hear. 

You nod. 

And then something crashes inside Yoongi, the dam of his eyes breaks and tears start falling unbound. He pulls you closer to his body, envelops you in a hug. 

You stay still but he doesn’t mind. 

He relishes your warmth, your smell, your feel for as long as he can. 

When he lets go, his lips find yours. 

He kisses you softly, with everything he has in himself. 

You don’t kiss him back but he doesn’t mind. 

For you, he will wait. 

Because right then, while you part your way from him, Yoongi finds an answer to all his questions. 

Yoongi realizes… He is in love with you.

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[alphabetboyluvr]

PALLADIUM - MYG

title credit: palladium- greyson chance

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut

synopsis:

min yoongi is urgent.  in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent.  the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent.  

wordcount: 3.2K

note from holly: this was a prompt from a winner of one of my kofi quizzes! was supposed to be a drabble but now we are looking at a lil three parter. no smut in this part, just setting up our dynamics <3 yoongi is a boy dad! idc! argue with the wall!!!!

PART TWO // PART THREE

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent," Yoongi pleads across the bakery counter. Nails bitten down to the bed, he's got bags underneath his eyes. Hasn't been sleeping well these days. Hasn't really been sleeping at all.

"I told you last time—"

"I know, I know," he sighs, pushing off of the countertop and pacing a few steps away, raking a stressed palm through his long, dark hair. Dishevelled, he hasn't had it cut in a while. You'll never tell him, but you think it looks better this way. "Look, it's the last time. I promise. I just really fucked it this time."

With a raised brow, you fold your arms over your chest. The apron beneath you bunches a little awkwardly, but you've never cared much for composure around Yoongi. Have simply known him too long and seen him through too many clumsy stages of life to be bothered. 

Tipping your head back, you exhale a sharp breath from the very depths of your lungs. 

"You are so lucky Jaehyun is an angel baby," you eventually say, shaking your head as you reluctantly agree. "What time do you need me?"

"Deadline is at midnight," Yoongi says, "So whenever you can get to mine, really. Mum has him till seven, but then she's got Bitch'n'Stitch—"

"Hey," you scold. "My mum goes to that knitting group, too."

"I'm not calling her a bitch—but I've heard their conversations," Yoongi reminds you. He swears they don't actually do any knitting (as if they haven't handmade half of Jaehyun's closet). Thinks they spend the entire time gossiping. And while yes, they do do a lot of gossiping, they can multitask. Unlike him, apparently. "But fine. She has her knitting group at seven."

Yoongi will never simply call it a knitting group, if he can help it. 

Bitch'n'Stitch is his go-to, but he's also partial to Stitching Hour. 

Last week, you'd just gone on a rant about how it's inappropriate to insinuate that all women of a certain age from your small town are witches—"Women used to get burned at the stake, Yoongi. Burned!"—so he knows better than to say it out loud today, even if it makes him laugh whenever he thinks about them knitting on broomsticks.

"I'll probably be outta here at just gone six," you tell him. 

It's the late shift, so you're responsible for closing and cleaning up, but after two years of part-time work alongside your studies, you're a dab hand. Can action off every item on the to-do list in record time, and to a standard even your boss can't achieve. 

You're wasted on a small town like this, but someone's gotta do it. 

"That's fine," Yoongi nods. "I just need to straighten this essay out and get my citations done. You can go as soon as I'm finished—and hey, you can order takeout. I'll pay."

Knowing Yoongi, he's probably surviving on instant noodles, and spending all of his money on Red Bull and Jaehyun's meticulously planned diet. 

Jaehyun's been off formula for about two months, now, and Yoongi is terrified of feeding him the wrong thing. By the looks of his slightly skinnier-than-usual frame, he's the one in need of a good meal.

And so, as you're doing your final tasks of the day, you don't bin the breads that need to be chucked. Instead, you bag them up. All of them. The pastries, too. Will just have to hope Yoongi has freezer space.

By the time you make it home, you've only got ten minutes to spare for a quick shower before you need to rush to Yoongi's. You'll be a little after seven, but it's fine. You've resigned yourself to staying at Yoongi's until midnight, now. 

It's how it usually goes. 

He'll work up until his deadline, rewriting and revising paragraphs that are perfectly fine and need no alterations. His own worst critic, you know that he really doesn't need to stress himself out like this.

Still, he does. You think he'll always be this way—at least, he was in high school, and he remains to be this way, even in university. Too much of a habit has been formed. It's ingrained in the ridges of his brain. Pink and permanent—just like the pout on his lips as he opens his apartment door for you later that evening.

Forearm tucked under Jaehyun's pudgy thighs, Yoongi cradles his son into his side, as a look of relief relaxes onto his face. It's a stark reminder of why Yoongi stresses himself out so much. 

You can afford to make mistakes. The only person you have to answer to is yourself.

Yoongi doesn't have that luxury anymore. Hasn't done for a while, now. Won't ever get it again—or at least, not for another seventeen years.

"Hey," he whispers, then casts his eyes down to Jaehyun's sleepy head. Nestling into Yoongi's shoulder, Jaehyun's dark hair now has a little length to it. Much like his own, Yoongi is refusing to cut it. Another thing he's scared of getting wrong. 

The subtle nod Yoongi gestures towards Jaehyun is a request for you to be quiet. 

You're familiar with his paternal habits by now; the behaviours he exhibits only when he's wearing his invisible 'Dad' hat.

He tucks back against the door, letting you walk on through and into his apartment.

Shoes off by the door, Yoongi locks up as you shake off your jacket, and hook it on the empty peg in the middle of the rack.

Small and a little dark, Yoongi hates his home. Is strapped for cash, so turned the open plan kitchen and sitting room into a studio-type set-up. Has his bed where a sofa should be, and manages to cram everything somewhere. His desk, his small keyboard, his clothing rail that he really needs to reorganise. A bunch of his things are in storage. 

Jaehyun's room is what once was Yoongi's. It's got the most natural light, thanks to the window placement, not that it matters at this time of night. The curtains are drawn, playmat full of yellows and oranges scattered across the floor. Beside it, is Yoongi's laptop. The screensaver is running, and it's pretty obvious he'd been playing with the little toy octopus sprawled across the keyboard instead, when you had arrived.

"Bit late for nap time?" You question quietly as you pop your phone on the charging pad Yoongi keeps on the dresser.

Nodding, Yoongi gently rests his son down in his crib. These past couple of days, everything has been a little out of sync. He feels guilty—like he's failing—but the pressures he's been putting on himself are just getting far too great. He's doing the best he can, but it always feels like it's not enough.

But Jaehyun is loved, and sheltered, and provided for. Yoongi is doing all he can. He just still isn't sure he knows how to be a dad.

Which is silly, because as you watch him stroke across the dark hair that sits flat to Jaehyun's scalp, quietly monitoring his condition, you think that Yoongi was made for this. Is far more paternal than you are maternal.

Truth be told, you don't like kids all that much.

Your idea of a fun evening doesn't typically involve hanging out with an infant, and yet you'll do it for Yoongi. Of course, you will. Have known him for too long and have been through too much with him to not help him.

Plus, you really do adore Jaehyun. Sweet as can be when he sleeps, he really does look just like Yoongi at that age—or so you gather from the baby pictures you've seen a dozen times over at his parents' place. It's easier to count which features they don't share. Saves ever needing to do a paternity test, not that Yoongi would do one anyway.

Jaehyun is his kid. A little bit of DNA wouldn't change this fact, not in his eyes.

It worries you. Not because you think Yoongi isn't his father—again, they're too alike to not be related—but in case his mother decides she wants to play an active role in Jaehyun's life. You fear that the 1% of doubt could come true and tear any legal right away from Yoongi. You're not really sure how the courts would work it all out, but you doubt they'd side with him. 

Yoongi was never meant to be a father. Not now, at least. The outcome of a one-night-stand, Jaehyun's biological mother didn't realise she was pregnant until it was too late. Had no real choice in the matter. Was also nearing the end of her tenure in law school. A kid was not—and remains to not be—a part of her plan. 

You know the documents were signed. Legal rights, shit like that. Know that she must have an understanding of the law far greater than Yoongi. Just hope she hasn't done anything that will fuck him over in the future.

Still, it's not a topic of conversation Yoongi likes indulging in, and so you don't push, no matter how much you'd like to know the details. 

"Let him sleep," Yoongi eventually sighs, before sinking down to lie on the rug. "Better he rests while I'm working—and plus, he slept through till five-thirty this morning."

"Till sunrise?" You chirp, a little surprised but conscious of keeping your voice down. 

Yoongi nods, face rubbing against the carpet. "He's basically a teenager."

Rolling your eyes, you reach down for his wrist to drag him to his feet. He's got an essay to finish. 

"Shut up," you smile. "You've barely stopped being a teenager."

Sometimes, it makes you a little sad to think that Yoongi is missing out on his early twenties—but then you glance across to Jaehyun and know that he's not missing anything. Just experiencing different things. That's all. 

"Don't remind me," he grunts, lamely getting to his feet, letting you pull him down the hallway as you swipe the baby monitor that lives next to the charging pad. You'll come back for your phone later. 

"C'mon, gotta finish your essay. Can't be a DILF unless you get this degree."

"Untrue."

"You'll just be a D without a good job," you tell him. "DILF's are always suited up."

"That's simply not true," he doubles down. "I've been told I'm a DILF at least, like, six times. Maybe more."

Definitely more. If he knew the way girls on campus spoke about him? God, his head would be so big he wouldn't be able to walk through doors.

But for now, you shoo him back through Jaehyun's bedroom door and to his sitting room-come-bedroom. The apartment isn't large. A baby monitor isn't needed, yet one is set up by Yoongi's bed, regardless. 

And so, as Yoongi knuckles down with his work, you flop onto his bed, and take prime babysitting position—though you're pretty sure you'd get fired if you ever got under anyone else's sheets on the job.

But it's late, and you've worked a long shift. You're only gonna rest your eyes for a moment. A second. A fraction of one, even. Just to hydrate them a little. Replenish your—

You're out like a light.

The curse of Min Yoongi's bedsheets. You really should have known better. It happens every damn time. You know this. He knows this. 

Yet when he eventually wakes you, neither of you mention it.

"Hey," Yoongi mumbles as he gently nudges your sleepy body. Flopping down beside you on top of the duvet, his exhausted eyes close instantaneously. 

"I'm going, I'm going," you grumble into his duvet, half asleep but knowing that you should go and check on Jaehyun. 

The baby monitor hasn't made any noise to wake you, and Yoongi's just been with him for the last twenty minutes, quietly watching on as he slept. Is pretty confident he's gonna sleep through again tonight. 

Reaching out to pat you down, Yoongi doesn't really acknowledge the way he accidentally taps your ass. Nor do you. Just sort of pretend that he didn't. Pretend that it didn't make your heart race a little.

"S'fine," he says, voice muffled by his need for rest. "He's still sleeping. Just checked on him."

"Sure?"

"Mhm," Yoongi nods, the sound of his hair smooth against his sheets. "You gonna crash here?"

"You all done?" You question right back. Shuffle, and his hand lazily moves with you. His wrist now rests on your hip, and you both pretend like it's normal.

"All done," he confirms. "Was late, so I've lost ten percent, but whatever."

For someone who stresses himself out as much as Yoongi does over his grades, as soon as he's hit the submission button, he just ceases to care. Has a 'what'll be, will be' attitude towards it all. Part of you wishes he would adopt that mentality when he's actually writing his essays.

What you don't realise is that it manifests from the same fear. 

He panics and panics and panics before a deadline—and then is so worried about his grade that he just pretends like they don't exist.

Too sleepy to care at this moment in time, Yoongi's placement of his wrist on your hip becomes more intentional. Deliberate. 

It's not like you're a stranger to the weight of Yoongi's arms draped over your body. Not like it's the first time—it's just every time it does happen, you swear it'll be the last.

It never is.

And it's not like it's anything illicit. Not anything you shouldn't be doing. Nothing that takes you beyond the realms of friendship—but it does threaten the integrity of your oldest connection to another human outside of familial ties. 

So every time Yoongi gets a little too close, or you find yourself lingering a little long on his words, you tell yourself to stop. That this is just a symptom of the dry spell you've been going through.

"Are you staying here tonight?" He asks.

Again, it wouldn't be the first time. Have been having sleepovers with him since you were kids. Ghost stories, midnight feasts. Sneaking out to the park to find UFOs and stopping by the corner shop for snacks. 

Once high school hit, it was deemed unwise by your parents. Open door policy. 

You'd been furious. Outraged that your privacy was being taken from you, and being told it was for your own good.

And so sneaking out the park became sneaking in windows; films watched with headphones on, dinner eaten in your bedroom under the guise of a melodramatic teenage strop, but actually shared with the boy from two doors down who knew better than to deceive your parents.

All innocent. Nothing that required a closed door. Those escapades were saved for—or wasted on—other people. Either, or. Neither you nor Yoongi gave it much thought. Why would you?

Friends, is what you were. What you are. What you always have been.

Which begs the question: why the fuck is Yoongi looking at you like that?

But then the wrist of Yoongi's resting on your hip becomes his hand. The grip becomes intentional. The stillness of your body comes not from tiredness, but from trepidation. 

"Do you want me to?" 

"It's late," he husks, thumb stroking against your hip as if that's what friends do. "You're off tomorrow, right? Don't need to go home?"

"Right."

"Well, then stay," he shrugs, loosening his grip to roll onto his back. The ceiling is far less interesting than you are, but he has to stop looking at your lips and wondering if they taste like the strawberry lip balm you'd tossed on the side cabinet earlier. "Makes sense."

"Stay?" You question as if he still needs to clearly outline that, yes, he'd like you to stay. "And do what?"

"Sleep," he dryly replies, because it's the obvious answer. Because it's what you should do. You're tired. He's tired. Jaehyun is asleep in the next room over.

"Sleep," you nod. "Sounds good."

Domestication becomes you in times like these. A toothbrush sits in an old glass on the top shelf of Yoongi's mirrored bathroom cabinet. The rest of the shelves are pretty much empty, but he always puts it up there. Says it annoys him anywhere else.

"Surely it's more annoying having to get it down for me every time I crash here?" You banter with him as you lean against the back wall of his bathroom, waiting for him to retrieve it. 

Plucking it from the glass, Yoongi is swift with his movements, and the way he wets the brush, puts a pearl of toothpaste on the bristles, then hands it back over to you.

"Doesn't bother me," he shrugs, turning back around to shut the cabinet. When he does, he's greeted with your eyes in the mirror, and a feeling in his stomach that should bother him. 

See, the D in Yoongi's DILF actually stands for dependable (although occasionally dickhead also fits). He likes being asked to do things. Likes being helpful. Useful. Knows that he depends on you far more than you do him, and so he does this to settle the score. 

You help him pass his exams, and he helps you keep good dental hygiene habits. A win-win situation. 

Leaving you to finish washing up, Yoongi does the final checks of his apartment. Bolts the door. Turns out the lights. Makes sure Jaehyun's day bag is packed for tomorrow with his Grandma. Adds the day's clothes to the laundry pile. Stands in the doorframe of Jaehyun's room to just simply watch his son exist for a little while longer. 

He loses track of time doing this. It's a nightly routine, so you think he'd get used to it, but he never does. Still can't fully comprehend that a living, breathing creature relies on him for basic survival. 

Sure, he hides your toothbrush away, and puts things out of reach for you just to get you asking him for help, but this is different. He cares about nothing more than making sure Jaehyun is surrounded by abundance: love, shelter, food. Everything the world has to offer, Yoongi wants for his son—and that's why he's working so damn hard to make sure it happens.

There's a tenderness to how Yoongi strokes your back when you stand beside him. He's far gentler than he used to be. Benevolent with age. Isn't the same kid who used to chase you around his parent's yard with a worm in one hand, and a pile of mud in the other. 

"C'mon," you whisper, walking away because you know you need to break the contact. "Let's rest."

Yoongi nods. Is slow as he tears his gaze from his son, but just as stoic as he watches you saunter down the hallway and into your bedroom for the night. His bedroom.

You slip out of sight, just in time for Yoongi to exhale the air in his lungs. His sigh is full of unspoken words. Uncertain terms—and as he follows you down, he wonders how many more secrets will bloat his lungs throughout the night.

[dreamsagain]

I figured it would be a good time to share an update with you. I completed 5 radiation treatment sessions in 10 days. I had a new Pet Scan today but no results yet. I wish I could say I'm confident of what the outcome will be. You see when I had the scan prior to the radiation, three new growths were discovered. The cancer in my body is very active. Honestly I was never supposed to live this long but here I am.

Each day I struggle. I can't walk anymore or use my legs. I have become quite the wheelchair master though. My dear friend Holly once told me to keep all four wheels on the ground. Sorry Holly. You get a little bored in my situation. I have come to accept some things that I never thought I would have to. I can't feel the sand of the beach on my toes anymore or the cool ocean water. I can't dance anymore not that I was every very good at it. No more hiking on our trips to northern New England. These may seem trivial to all of you. You never think of these things until you can't do them any longer.

The bigger issues exist. I know my survival chances are slim. I will never give up though till my last breath. I know I will never fall in love with that special girl or settle down or even have a family. Why would anyone want a cancer ridden cripple? My days are consumed with doctors, physical therapy and trying to keep my head up.

Through all of this I'm grateful. I'm grateful for the people that try every day to lift my spirits, to encourage me and support me and most of all love me.

So to the following people, I say thank you and I love you forever.

Lauren @callmenonames my best friend in the universe. I have no words to describe the love you have shown me and the love I have for you. You sacrifice for me every day even at the cost of your own health. You are truly amazing.

Ellie @everylittlethingshedoesismagic my sweet London friend and her beautiful partner Sarah. Not a day goes by that I don't get a sweet message or picture. Unconditional and unwavering support and love. I have dreamt so many times about coming to London to just give you a hug and tell you thank you. I hope some day I can do that. I love you my friend

Karen @karenpillagain where do I begin. You are sweet and kind. Very silly and quirky and I think a little crazy too. You make me laugh and smile. When you had your accident I cried for days. Your partner Kate is a very lucky girl as are yo to have her. Two beautiful Aussies that deserve life's very best. I love you both and do hope we can make that Disney trip someday.

CJ @crystaljaydeinside1 Another incredible Aussie. You never hold back your care and encouragement. Always a sweet message, encouraging word or song to lift me up. I'm glad we connected the way we have and always love our chats. You have become very special to me and Lauren as well. I do love you my friend.

Breelynn @breelynnxoxoxoxo Where do I begin? You were a big support to my sister till the end. You remained close to Lauren and have always supported us. One of kind with a heart bigger than your body. Caring, loving and beautiful. Thank you for your continued support and love. I love you girl! You are amazing

Holly @hollys-coffee-cafe I fell in love with you so easy. You are beautiful, caring, and very special to me. I know we had our moments but there are no conditions on my feelings. You are an encouragement to me to never give up and I never will. I will always love you.

Last but not least Sadie @bambibrowneyes when I met you thanks to Holly, you were dealing with your own issues. Your beautiful wife Shelby sick with the same awful disease as me. There was an instant connection with the three of us. Shelby has since passed and your life has gone on. New career, new city and new love. I'm happy for you my friend. Love you

Okay that's it from me. I probably missed several people. I'm sorry for the long worded post. If you remember, say a prayer, send me you good vibes or whatever you believe in. I need them all.

[sunnebeam]

"this is our territory."

A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' DRABBLE.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.

warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, there's only one (1) bastard that can defeat yoongi 😟

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: the fact that my top 2 fics on this blog w the most notes/engagements are both yoongi fics,,,, the power he holds!! 😤 as always, hope yous enjoy this cute drabble and let me know ur thoughts!

You love the weekends.

No work. No stress. No bosses nagging at you to work overtime. No files waiting for you to sort through.

Just you, your poodle, and your husband.

There's absolutely nothing that can ruin your weekend. Nothing except—

"YOU BASTARD!"

You jolt upright from your bed, eyes wide in alarm when you hear your husband's normally calm voice shouting profanities from the other room. Luckily, Holly remains deep in slumber on Yoongi's side of the bed even as you're scrambling to the kitchen.

You almost trip on your own two feet when you see Yoongi on the kitchen floor – shirtless, sweaty, and looking absolutely defeated.

"Yoonie?! What happened?"

He's wearing a pained expression.

"I didn't see him coming."

"Who?!"

"I'm sorry, darling," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I let him get away."

What? Is there a burglar in the apartment?!

"Yoonie, what are you—"

"He's in the living room."

With anxious heartbeats, you and Yoongi head to the living room area. Fortunately, your apartment is tiny enough that every room is next to each other so it only takes a couple of steps for you to near the entryway to the living room. Craning your head, you take a peak to find...

"There he is."

...a cockroach.

Wait—

A cockroach?

You scream, clutching your husband as you hide behind him.

"There are roaches in this building?!" you screech, disgusted when you remember how the landlord conveniently left this little detail when you both first moved in.

"Stay behind me, darling," your husband orders and you look down to see him holding a pest repellent spray in his hand. "I'll handle this."

Your knees quiver when he takes slow steps toward the roach.

"You bastard," he continues, "you think you can just come breaking and entering?"

He's a few steps away.

"This is our territory," he growls as he positions the repellent and his finger hovers over the nozzle. "Die, you bastard!"

He sprays.

Nothing comes out.

"Shit," Yoongi mumbles. "I'm out of ammo."

And then the unthinkable happens.

"Yoonie, it's fucking flying!"

The cockroach flies. Higher. And higher. Then it descends.

"No," you whisper, horrified. "Please, no."

It lands on Yoongi's bare chest.

"Darling," your husband calls out to you, his body frozen but his voice shaky. "I need you to kill it. Even if you get me, too."

"No, no, no. This can't be happening."

You're hysterical.

"You can do it, darling," he assures you, his head jerking to gesture to a spare newspaper laying on the floor. "I know you can."

"But—"

"We have to protect our turf! Do it!"

A tear falls down your cheek. Without any other choice, you take a deep breath before getting the newspaper and folding it in a fan-like pattern.

Once it's all folded, you straighten up. You look your husband in the eye, and all you see is love, pride, and acceptance.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

And with the newspaper in your hand, you scream, swinging your arm back and running towards your husband, before you whip the newspaper forward and slam it on his skin.

You miss.

"I'm sorry, Yoonie," you mumble, head down as you eye the reddening mark on his forehead where you accidentally hit him.

The cockroach is long gone now, having flown out the opened window when you tragically missed it and ended up hitting your husband instead.

"Don't worry about it," he tells you, chuckling.

Yoongi shakes his head at you, endeared. He reaches out a hand and caresses your cheek lovingly.

"You did well, darling."

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[morganas-pendragons]

holly | celebrimbor

3 pieces in one weekend is alot for me lol

tag: @celebrimbormylove @erebusbabylon @pentaghasm @thesolarangel @celebrimborsapron

prompt: gifts from the forge

You have been wondering about how to ask this again for weeks. You've had desires to learn more about the forge since your earliest days in Eregion, and Celebrimbor always seems to have an excuse to prevent it.

Your inherently stubborn nature is what prompts you to ask him again, this time with the other Gwaith-I-Mírdain present. Mirdania gives you two thumbs up from behind her station as you approach.

"Lord Celebrimbor?" You call over the ringing of hammers against anvils. "Might I have a moment?"

Celebrimbor looks up from his sketches and smiles. You're so taken with him already, but particularly when he's like this, and even more so when there's lead smudged all over his hands from his sketches.

"I did not see you arrive. What are you up to today, dearest?" He asks.

"I'm coming to ask you a question.." You hesitate. "I would really like to learn how to forge. I have an idea, if you're willing to help me craft it."

Celebrimbor's smile wavers slightly. His main reasoning is that he simply does not wish to see you hurt, but all of his smiths have started in your position. The hopeful smile and the way your eyes shine with curiosity...

He sighs. "Very well. Only under my watch, and you must do as I say. Understood?"

You nod eagerly. Finally.

"Absolutely. You have my word. When do we start?"

"Let's start with you telling me more about your idea."

You are many, many things. Subtle? Not one of them. Mirdania snorts as you lean impossibly closer to Celebrimbr, eagerly talking on about your idea of crafting two holly pins.

It had been her input that had given you the courage.

"A holly leaf??" Celebrimbor asks. "That's an excellent project for a beginner! As it happens, there's gold being prepared for another project and I'm sure there's enough to spare. Come."

You follow Celebrimbor throughout the forge as you both gather the necessary components for crafting these leaves. You allow him to talk most of the way, explaining the mechanics of the forge and how he will be guiding your hands.

You wink at Mirdania as you catch her eye. Perfect. This is what you want.

By the time all of the supplies are gathered and ready, it is only the three of you left in the forge. The others have returned home for the evening. Mirdania bids you both a good evening and mouths, ''good luck!" before she too disappears.

After she departs, Celebrimbor peers over his shoulder at his last remaining companion. "I would understand if you want to continue this in the morning," He begins. "I don't want to keep you from something important."

You flash a pointed, though playful look. "You are important to me, you insufferable elf," You tease. "For you, I have all the time in the world." You stand just in front of him and, after throwing on a smith's apron and gloves, reach for the hammer you know is used to shape the metals. "My hands are yours."

Celebrimbor smiles and steps into your space, chest pressed to your back.

"First you must place the mold.."

"Mhm." You keep your eyes solely focused on his hands. If you get too distracted by how this is the closest he's been to you thus far, you're going to embarrass yourself. "Like that?"

"Carefully," He chides. "I don't want you to burn yourself." You can tell he's been doing this for centuries, as his movements are all slow and precise. "And now to pour the gold..."

He's so warm. So warm, and strong, and safe. You don't recall anyone else who has ever made you feel like this.

You surrender yourself to his guidance, absorbing what little time you will have to feel him like this before he shies away again. You'd let Celebrimbor imprint himself on your soul if he asked it.

Once poured, he guides you to move to the mold so the two of you can watch the metal cool. He watches you out of the corner of his eye. You are so trusting, so pliant, so soft.

Two holly pins are starting to take shape beneath them. They're meant to be worn across cloaks, as was your intention because you're aware that's the only way you can get him to wear it.

You lean into his arms around you as the metal cools. It really is quite a fascinating thing to witness.

Celebrimbor presses his chin into your shoulder. "Do you wish to add any detailing or color?" He asks quietly, relishing the feeling of your body so close to his.

"Green," You whisper, desperately trying not to close your eyes because he's now gotten closer and you can feel all of him. "For Eregion."

Celebrimbor smiles as though he already knows your answer. His affections for you have bloomed, budding from a timid bulb into a flowering plant that continues to bloom under your careful cultivation. He knows he loves you. He knows you: your weaknesses and fears and desires and aches.

He is still trying to allow you to know him. He wants to, yes, but it proves difficult. This may be a start.

"If I didn't know better," Celebrimbor teases lowly in your ear. The rasp in his voice is enough to make you shiver. 'I'd say you were trying to flatter the Lord of Eregion."

"You gave me a home," You reply simply. It is the easiest answer you've ever given. "Two of them. You, as the person, and Eregion as the place." Scarlet dusts his cheeks as he hides his face in your shoulder. "Of course, I am trying to flatter you, you ridiculous smith."

You peer at him through your peripheral and wink.

Oh, I am done for.

It is only then in the glow of the forge that Celebrimbor is struck by how beautiful you are.

"May I kiss you, dear?" He whispers in your ear.

It is not often that you are caught off guard. This time you are. You turn around in his embrace and wrap your arms around your neck as you nod. "I would love nothing more, meleth nin." You reply.

Without giving himself the opportunity to second guess this decision, Celebrimbor takes this risk and presses his lips to yours, one hand deftly cradling the back of your neck while the other rests at the small of your back.

All coherent thoughts go flying out the window as you curl your fingers against his chest. This is what you've wanted for weeks now, for Celebrimbor to realize that you want him to touch you as much as you touch him. You want him to let him know you the way you know him. There's already been so much vulnerability, so many nights of whispered confessions hidden in the dark and tears wiped away with the pads of your thumbs, yet he still hesitates to take that final leap.

Until now.

When you pull away, a whimper breaks at the back of your throat, and your fingers have moved to tangle in a mess of dark blonde curls.

Letting you pull away is one of the hardest things Celebrimbor has ever done. All he wishes to do now that he's taken that leap is to pull you back and cover you in his kisses, to worship you like the being of divinity you are, to sweep you off your feet with the heart of the hopeless romantic he knows he is.

"You are ethereal," Celebrimbor breathes against your lips as he rests his forehead against your own. "Unlike anyone I have ever known. I am sorry it has taken me so long to communicate that."

You could say so many things to him in that moment about how much you love him. About how Celebrimbor has become your sole reason for continued breathing, about how his passions and desires and yearning for life have given you a renewed purpose.

You do neither. Not yet.

"Help me finish our pins," You say softly, lightly tugging on his hair as you continue to play with it. He suppresses the groan rumbling in his chest as heavy-lidded hazel eyes meet yours. "And then I will allow myself to echo that same sentimentality to you."

Rationality overcomes him once again. Celebrimbor clears his throat, cheeks reddening. "Right." He coughs into his arm, scratching at the back of his neck as you part just enough to turn back around in his embrace. "The pins. Let us place the adornments."

"I promise they have a purpose. Help me finish them, and then we can talk."

You remain back to chest as two gold holly leaf pins begin to take shape beneath you - adorned with green embellishments that spiral and shatter against gold jewels carefully placed along the length of each pin.

When they cool, you grab the first with careful fingers and turn around, his fingers drumming absently against your hips as you fasten it against his robes. Celebrimbor stares down at the pin in amazement. “You intended this to be for me?” He asks softly.

You press your fingertips against your lips before reaching for your own and reaching out to lay it in his hand. “Will you pin this into my hair?” You ask. He nods, pulling you closer to carefully tuck the holly pin into the hair you have that remains tied up. Celebrimbor exhales softly as his fingers drag against the expanse of your neck. You are so soft. “I told you I’d talk after we concluded. Here’s what I have to say to you.”

You take both of his hands and press them against your hips firmly. Your own fingers drag across his cheeks, tracing the lines of the crows feet around his eyes and the reddening skin that blooms under your touch.

His breathing hitches when you reach his lips. Against the light of the fire, Celebrimbor is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. He’s always so open, so wanting, always quietly craving more of a thing he thinks he can’t have. He has such a deeply personal connection to the world around him and appreciates even the smallest of things that most people would look over and ignore.

You lean inward to kiss him. He responds in kind, a long and slow kiss that slowly grows into one that has you pressed against Mirdania’s work station and his hands on either side of you to cage you in. Celebrimbor has gradually grown more confident in this area, and it often shows when he physically responds to the little sounds you make in response to the depths of his kisses.

You whine softly as he parts for just long enough to venture down your neck, right to your pulse of your right shoulder. “You are my peace,” You whisper, eyes fluttering as you flex your hands in the fabric of his robes. “My hearts safe keeping, my home, my desires and wants and everything I have ever wished for. You are everything good I have sought for so long, Celebrimbor. I wish you’d see it.”

You shiver as his tongue works against the muscle of your shoulder where a red mark blooms, and he only stops when he realizes that there is a tattoo on your skin just beneath your collarbone.

It is a holly leaf.

Celebrimbor has never seen skin markings on anyone, let alone an Elf. It is highly irregular. Nevertheless, he nuzzles your collarbone before laying a featherlight kiss thereupon.

“Where did this come from?” He asks, fascinated by the intricacies of the design and how it stands out against your skin. “It is identical to the pins, and to the holly leaf that is associated with Eregion.”

“I’ve had it all my life.” You remark. “It only gained its color when I met you. No one else knows about it.”

Celebrimbor has no idea what that means, but he is grateful to be knowledgeable of your secret as he pulls away to look at you properly. Your eyes are wide, lips swollen and hair nearly untucked from the pin he’s placed within it. You’re beautiful.

He wants you forever.

I’m going to marry you one day.

"I am going to get better at this," The words are out before he can take them back, and you stare up at him starstruck as his hands again find your face. "Better at communicating the depths of my affection for you. I no longer wish to hide it for fear of insecurities or old haunts coming back to taunt me. These things that say I am not good enough for you," You open your mouth to argue, but Celebrimbor simply places his fingers upon your lips and blushes when you kiss his fingertips. "You have shown me a different truth amidst all of the turmoil and deception that has plagued my life. If I am to keep to any oath, it will be an oath to you, melda."

Tears burn your eyes as you nod and allow him to pull you into a hug. The hour is late, and you are tired, which prompts you to ask the one question you never thought he'd say yes to.

"I do not wish to return home," You say quietly. "May I stay in your chambers with you tonight?"

He does not answer, just simply takes your hand and leads you through the hallways you have rarely stepped into since the tower was completed. You watch each door pass you by before he stops in front of the last one, which is the furthest away and out of sight of curious eyes. Then, he opens the door and allows you inside.

While you take in the sight of Celebrimbor's bedroom - and how nervous it should make you to be in it - he steps away to find something comfortable for you to wear and comes up with a dark-colored shift he'd had made for you months prior that was intended to be a gift.

"Here, darling. This should do it." Celebrimbor calls, turning toward you, only to find that you are already lying in his bed with your body turned toward the door and your hand tucked under your cheek. The comfort you find in him knows no bounds. "Sweet, sweet girl."

He changes his own robes into his nightclothes and slips into bed, wrapping his arm around your waist before pulling you closer to him so he can bury his face in your hair.

Rest, Celebrimbor. Allow yourself this. Be peaceful.

Sleep claims him with ease.

The next morning, Mirdania finds the two of you again in the Forge, but this time you are both wearing intricately holly pins proudly on display against your chosen clothes for the day.

She grins to herself and continues to tend to her work.

[beachlifelez]

“Hi, Callie. Megan isn’t home this afternoon.”

“I know, Mrs. Brandt; I’m here to see you.”

“Oh, what did you need?”

“I think it’s what you need, to be honest.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re AMomsNaughtyNeeds on tumblr, aren’t you?”

Holly Brandt went white. How had Callie figured out her online identity? Based on Holly’s reaction, Callie knew she was right.

“It’s OK, I promise. I’m CuteKittenforYou. We chatted for an hour last night. You are quite naughty, aren't you?”

"Callie...I don't know what to say...I mean...that's just for fun..."

"Yes, lots of fun. You don't have to say anything. I wore my Hello Kitty panties for you, see?"

Callie raised her skirt and indeed, there was Hello Kitty.

"I loved the way you chatted last night about wanting to take them off me and use your tongue on both my holes for hours and hours. Why don't we go inside? I think I'd like that for real."

Holly had no choice. Callie was in charge. And those Hello Kitty panties were definitely going to come off inside.

[strangersteddierthings]

No Regrets - Part One

Content Warning: mentions of main character deaths but these are temporary because this is a time travel two-to-four-shot and so, they start dead but then get better :3 Also maybe a whiplash warning? In that it starts off kind of dark for a story that's pretty light-hearted in the end.

Here's the first part of the threatened season 4 AU time travel fic where Steve gets thrown back to the moment in family video when Dustin and Max show up demanding the phones. Previously he was 5 years into a grueling apocalypse.

Part One🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

Steve has lived his life in regret. Replaying scenarios in his head over and over late at night when sleep eludes him. And sleep is always eluding him these days, weeks, past five years. Steve hasn't known a day without regret since the day they failed to kill Vecna, the day Max almost died. The day Eddie did.

It's five years to the day today.

Steve spends endless nights thinking about how he'd change that spring break. It was the start of the end of everything. Eddie's death wasn't world ending for Steve. It was the end of a what-if. A maybe. But for Dustin. Oh God, Dustin. Who had blamed himself for Eddie's death, who was broken and then never able to get time to recover. To grieve.

Dustin, who pulled away from everyone, from Steve, because of it.

He's not dead, Steve knows, because he still hears his voice on the radio. Separated from the group but vital to their survival. He spread intel on Demo-creature movements, where safe spaces are, news from across the broken and destroyed America, and how to survive the hellscape.

There have been losses. Terrible, tragic losses.

Murray Baughman. Lucas Sinclair. Karen and Holly Wheeler. Will Byers. And those are just the ones he knows. A lot of people scattered to the wind when Hawkins became overran with the Upside Down and its creatures.

He's still two days out on this supply run. Two more days and he'll get to know who is still around. Who they lost this time. It's not always someone they know, but the horrors never cease, and Steve's been gone a total of three weeks.

"Hey," Robin breaks him from his thoughts as she leans over to whisper in his ear, "since you're gonna daydream, you might as well actually dream. Scouts say it'll be a while before we can continue moving."

"I'm not daydreaming, I'm thinking."

"Well, be sleeping instead. You'll be more useful with some rest," Robin pats her shoulder, inviting him to lean his head against it.

"Don't use my weakness against me. You know I love being useful," Steve sighs as he drops his head onto her shoulder.

"I know. It makes you easy to manipulate," Robin teases. He can hear the smile in her voice. "Now, shut up and sleep."

Steve grumbles under his breath. No real words, just grumpy noises as he does shift and get as comfortable as he can leaned against Robin. He is tired, and with nothing else he can be doing, he won't feel too guilty about it.

He closes his eyes.

He opens his eyes, blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness of the sun shining through the glass storefront of Family Video. Usually when he dreams of the past, the sun's never this bright. It's been years since he's seen the sun at all, with the red-black sky of the Upside Down looming above them constantly.

He takes a deep breath, basking in the fresh(ish) air of Family Video. How long has it been since he's taken a breath without his mouth covered by a mask, bandana, some cloth or another? Well, he's not really breathing without a mask on, his conscious self has one on, but it still feels good to fill his lungs and release. He has half a mind to jump the counter and go outside to repeat that; see if his unconscious mind will provide a difference in the air, if it remembers enough to do so.

"Hey Steve," Dustin says as he is stepping through the doors with Max at his side. It's then that Steve takes in where the dream has started. The doors have just opened, and Steve's looking partially over his shoulder, towards the doors instead of the TV as it plays the news of Chrissy's death on the screen. The world fades back into motion, instead of the slowness the beginning of his dream started as Dustin finishes his question, "how many phones do you have?"

"Are you seeing this?" Steve asks on autopilot, playing out the scene he knows, but he holds off from stating the someone was murdered part. He's tired of saying it.

"How many phones do you have?" Dustin asks with more urgency.

Steve takes in Dustin and Max while Robin explains the phone situation. It's been so fucking long since he's seen Dustin. Since Max was able to see him. God. He can't let this play out like normal. It's not going to fix reality, he knows that logically, but what would it hurt to live out his fantasy of getting a re-do while he dreams? Wasn't that what he was thinking about while awake?

He tunes back into the conversation when Dustin shoves his backpack across the counter, and then himself. Instead of whining about the tapes, he reaches for the pen and notepad they keep close to the till. "Hey, what's this about?"

"Max, fill them in while I do this," Dustin replies.

Max turns to him and Robin, who is eyeing both Steve and Max but listening. Max explains what Steve already knows. The lights going crazy, Eddie fleeing his own home, and that it might be Upside Down related.

There's a script here. Responses he has memorized because of how often he dreams this moment over and over. An answer Steve usually gives, but this time he finds he can hold his tongue. He doesn't have to speak. Doesn't have to follow the script.

"Okay," Steve says instead. "Dustin, what's the number for the Byers now?

Surprisingly, that actually pulls Dustin from the computer. He spins on the stool to give Steve a confused look. "What? Why?"

If he's being honest with himself, he's never really had this much control over his dreams before. Having this control makes him want to do all the things he's daydreamed about. To change the choices that fill him with regret and guilt. "I want to leave a message for Jonathan," Steve lies, "or talk to him if he's home. Give him a heads up that Upside Down shit might be going on again."

Dustin narrows his eyes at Steve, suspicious, "Jonathan?"

"Yeah. Jonathan," Steve says in his bitchiest voice. "Number, dude."

He can tell Dustin doesn't fully believe the lie, but he recites the number anyway.

"Thanks," Steve says as he scoots around Robin and heads to Keith's office to use the phone there. The first thing he does is call the police station and let them know that he saw Eddie Munson at Rick Lipton's place, up by Lover's Lake on Holland Road. The lady who answered starts to ask questions, Steve just says he recognized the trailer on TV as the Munson's and hangs up. He'll swing by later once everyone else has pieced together the Rick Lipton part of this all themselves. If Eddie's still there, he'll drag him to the station himself.

'Cause the thing is, Steve has thought of many scenarios. So many. And even if nothing else changes, this is the bit that will. Eddie cannot be killed in the Upside Down if he is in a jail cell instead. And if the police do follow up on his tip, then they'll take Eddie in for questioning before Fred dies. And that's.

Well.

Steve's living through the end of the world and that changes people. It's changed Steve. Once there would have been a time when allowing someone to die, knowing it was going to happen and not stopping it, would have filled Steve with guilt, regret, maybe even some self-loathing. But Steve's made enough sacrifices for this town. Lost enough of the people he loves to be jaded. Maybe even cruel. If Fred has to die to prove that Eddie didn't do it, then that's what will happen.

His next step is to call the Byers. It surprises him that Joyce actually answers with a hesitant hello. That never happens in the dreams.

"Joyce. I mean, Ms. Byers. It's Steve. Uhh, Steve Harrington," he says.

"Oh. Hello Steve. What, uh, what can I do for you?" Joyce's voice is still hesitant.

"Listen, the Upside Down is back. Or, like, it was never gone? I don't know. But I needed to tell you."

"Oh my God," Joyce sounds horrified, and Steve can hear Murray in the background asking questions. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Vec- sorry, it has already killed a girl. Max was a witness. Well, of the aftermath. But that's not important. What I need is for you to tell El that she's never been a monster and never will be. That everything has been the fault of One. And I think you should tell her Hopper is alive and you're going to rescue him."

There's not an immediate answer. A rustling sound and then faint voices he can't make out. She must be covering the phone with her hand as she and Murray talk. Or argue, knowing Murray. After a moment, Murray's voice comes through the line, "How do we know you are who you say you are?"

It's followed by Joyce shouting, "How do you know about Hopper?" and Murray quickly shushing her and some shuffling noises before Joyce says, "Okay. We're both listening."

"Look, I know you have no reason to believe me so I'll give you something that might serve as proof that I know things I shouldn't. When everyone gets back from the roller rink, be there for El. She's going to- to have a bad night, because of a girl that's been, like, bullying her at school. Then, I need you to get them headed this way tomorrow morning, because you gotta be gone then, too, but like. Be there for El tonight. There will be an incident involving a roller skate. So, if you believe me, call me back after that."

"How do we know you're who you claim to be, Steve?" Murray questions again, while Joyce says, horrified, "El's been being bullied?"

"I can't exactly prove I'm me. But call my house tonight after you've spoken to El and I'll answer. That's the best I can do. I... I don't know if Jonathan or Mike have my number, but Mike can call home and get my number from Nancy. That'll be proof, right? Or Will can get it from Dustin. Whichever."

"And how do you know about something happening tonight at the roller rink?" Joyce demands.

"I know more than I should. So, if the roller rink thing holds up, and you decide to at least hear me all the way out, call my house," Steve hangs up then, not wanting to get into a loop of explanation.

"Steve! Hurry up and come help people while I help Thing One and Thing Two!" Robin calls through the door and Steve takes a step towards the closed door to comply but he stops, hand hanging just above the doorknob. That's how the dream goes. That's what 19-year-old Steve would have done.

But that's a Steve that died five years ago, when the world ended, when the apocalypse started. Steve's not 19 anymore, though he must look it, a master of his own puppet. He's never sought himself out in a mirror when he dreams; he's too busy taking in everyone who has been lost to him in his waking life to bother with himself.

What does he want to do this time?

What does he want to do right now?

He leaves Keith's office to beeline to Dustin, pausing only to pat Robin on the shoulder. He slides around Max and comes to a stop beside Dustin.

"I already told you, I need this for-" Dustin starts to speak but cuts off with a squawk that sounds like a mixture of indignation and confusion as Steve just reaching out and bodily turns Dustin towards him. "Steve, this is important!"

"I know," Steve says and then hugs Dustin. Dustin doesn't hug back, but neither does he pull away. Steve knows he's missed Dustin, felt his loss for many years now, but holding Dustin now, feeling him solid and here feels Steve what he can only equate to grief.

Dustin lets himself be hugged for what is, undoubtedly, an awkward amount of time for him before he thumps Steve's back twice and says, "okay... You can stop now."

Steve lets go and turns to Max, who immediately puts her hands up, "No. Absolutely not."

He chuckles and steps around her. He won't force his affection on her.

Then he takes off the family video vest and sets it on the counter.

"Steve?" Robin asks.

"Sorry, Robs, I can't stay and help customers. I have some things I got to do."

"Steve, you cannot abandon me on a Saturday!"

He can't quite bring himself to feel bad for abandoning her. It is a shit thing to do but right now saving Eddie and Max from Vecna is more important. He's already wasting daylight, so instead of answering his gives her his best 'I'm so sorry' face and bolts out the door. All three of them shout after him but he doesn't slow.

He's got a list of regrets to change.

-

Tagging the besties and all the people that expressed interest when I posted the lil blurb about this. Sorry if I missed you!

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @music9009 @apomaro-mellow @soaringornithopter @reighnofdreams @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @sirsnacksalot @livelifeliketheresnotomorow @sageclipse @schnukiputz @mbloggotdeletedsothisismybackup @lumoschildextra @vampirestevie @alex-axolotl @juleswashere3 @yet-still-more-banched