#meanwhile at the schools I’m going to now

[formosusiniquis]

It’s Wednesday have some worms I’m using as a warm-up.

So this is inspired by these style videos that I’ve seen a lot lately on youtube shorts cause i quit tiktok just to get stuck on the vape version. Where people go up to athletes and ask them to sign old pictures of themselves. And I’ve got two versions that have been playing in my head.

1. Chrissy and Eddie run a joint besties tiktok/social media thing where they show off their opposites attract platonic soulmate life by pushing each other out of their comfort zones, making them do things the other likes, and showing that it can be fun. Eddie takes Chrissy to a show and makes her get in the mosh pit, they jump out of a plane -- each claiming it was the other’s idea -- she makes Eddie try cheer; you get the picture.

So Chrissy drags Eddie to a sports game of your choosing, I’m going with baseball cause @thefreakandthehair ‘s latest fic with baseball steve is living in my head rent-free this week. Eddie decides that if he’s going and they’re going to do the sports equivalent of stage-dooring then he’s going to double up and get in on this trend he’s seen. The reactions are middling to bland, Tommy Hagan flips him off but does sign the photo of himself from what Eddie thinks is probably his junior prom and he and Chrissy are both pretty positive that'll be the best reaction they get for the video. But the next person they have planned to get is Steve and Eddie had to dig deep to find a picture of Steve that wasn’t a photo of him in a group shot at a party when he was in high school. It’s like the guy hit senior year and disappeared off the internet.

So Eddie walks up to the hottest guy he’s ever seen and asks for an autograph while handing Steve a photo of himself from grade school. He’s got the biggest smile on his face, one of his front teeth is missing and his hair is slipping forward onto his forehead from its picture-day perfect styling. Steve cuts off his by-rote agreement with a laugh and actually turns to look at Eddie (and Chrissy) now.

“Did everyone get one like this or am I special?”

Chrissy answers since Eddie lost the ability to speak the second Steve looked at him while smiling, “Yours is the littlest, but we did choose to ignore everyone’s professionally taken headshots.”

“You think this wasn’t done by a professional? Look at the lighting and the weird tree in the background.”

Chrissy laughs and does that thing where she kicks her leg out enough to knock Eddie back to planet earth. “You can make it out to Eddie, with an IE.” She tells Steve while Eddie massages his smarting ankle.

Steve takes the sharpie out of Eddie’s slack hand and looks down to sign. “I was always gonna sign, cause I like to think this little guy would be really excited about how far I got. But, this would be creepy if you weren’t so cute.”

Eddie is only able to answer because Steve still isn’t looking at him. “Her?”

Steve hands him the picture. “She didn’t ask for the autograph.”

They have to blur it for the video, but underneath his perfectly practiced signature, Steve sends Eddie home with his number.

Alternatively my take 2. The kids get full VIP experience tickets for Corroded Coffin and they have to go Steve. Claudia doesn’t want to cramp their style so she’s out, but if they can’t find a certified adult to take them then Ted has been volunteered. Ted, Steve. He agrees to go because even if he can’t stand the idea of spending the night fighting a migraine during the flashing lights of a heavy metal concert, he also isn’t going to let the Party suffer the social repercussions that would be Ted Wheeler going.

But he decides if he’s going to go he’s going to have fun with it. The kids let him know that it’s a small VIP (for plot reasons) and every group gets a set amount of time with the group. He’s listened to them talk about what they’re bringing to get signed, what they’re going to say to the band to sound both cool and mature. Meanwhile, he’s taking inspiration from his own feed to come up with a plan that’s going to hopefully only annoy everyone a ‘God Steve why do we take you anywhere, but yeah okay that was pretty funny’ amount and not actually ruin the kids' time.

He doesn’t actually know anyone in the band, but the internet exists and as he goes down his rabbit hole, trying to find pictures that are suitably dweeby but also cute in a wholesome way, he realizes that oops the lead guitarist is super hot and also vaguely familiar.

The night of the concert comes and Steve goes into the VIP line with five photos for the four members. Pictures from so far down the Instagram timeline that an accidental like would get him put on a watchlist. He’s got a sophomore Gareth trying his blue steel in a selfie, a photo of Jeff from the one year he did marching band to get out of his gym credit, Freak in the suit vest he got for Junior prom, and Eddie at his most dramatic ‘it’s not a phase Wayne’ stage in high school.

Eddie absolutely thinks they’re being made fun of for a minute, it’s Jeff who laughs and breaks the tension first. Which is good because Steve had waited to bring out the second picture he brought, turns out he finally figured out why the hot guitarist looked and sounded so familiar, and he shows Eddie a picture from the summer camp they went to together where they had been inseparable. That one Eddie signs gladly, his messy signature blocking out the camp counselor they had both hated. Steve won’t let the kids see, he tells them it’s weird to see your heavy metal heroes when they were eight and still waiting to get the gap between their front teeth fixed with braces. But he really just doesn’t want them to see the number Eddie wrote there and the vague promise to have Steve over to catch up and see if they can make kids as cute as they were.

[sparklingcid3r]

ik in the musical they changed it from darry to darrel bc it sounds close to dally, but in a deeper way what is ur hc of how in the book only the socs call darry 'darrel' and also now in the musical that darry is in charge everyone calls him darrel? what do u think that switch was like for him, and how did his brothers react to it?

you’ve come to the right place bc i LOVEEE overanalyzing the whole name thing. reaching is my favorite pastime fr. i’m gonna try and answer ur ask and then some bc i feel so strongly abt this deadass (me making up for the fact that idk how long this has been sitting in my inbox without me knowing, anon im so sorry lmfao🙏)

i think darry probably just went by darrel at school because the right to call him darry was reserved for the people he grew up with. my own hc is that paul used to be one of the only people from school who called him darry because of how close they were, but paul didn’t stick to one name, he switched between darry and darrel. tho after the fallout, it’s exclusively darrel or just “curtis,” as a way to distance himself from the fact that they were once closer than he cares to admit.

as for the musical, i could definitely believe that at least pony and soda grew up calling him darry, but stopped as they grew older, like outgrowing a kid’s toy. especially when their parents died, the name darry kind of died with them, it’s a relic of their innocence that they can’t use anymore without remembering what they’ll never get back.

i kind of also want to get into why the coordinators of the musical chose to change darry’s name over dally’s, when they just as easily could have had dally go by dallas and kept darry’s nickname. and this is where the reaching starts so don’t take me seriously i’m just being a D1 yapper rn

but to me the decision to keep dally’s nickname is a symbol of the fact that dally literally is a child. to the average audience member who has little to no knowledge of the source material, “dally” is probably a little bit childlike and serves to remind them that no matter how touch he acts, they’re watching a kid make incredibly big decisions for other kids

darrel meanwhile is the designated adult of the group, and that’s only by circumstance, not because he genuinely is old enough/has enough maturity to handle it. but by taking away his nickname, it emphasizes the point to readers/movie watchers that darrel can’t afford to be seen by anyone as too young or childish, not even the audience. he’s hiding behind even his name to put up the illusion that he knows what he’s doing, where they’re going, how they’re going to get there.

but yall ik this is some crazy headcanoning i’m just a girl having fun lmfao🫶

[candy-ac3]

Remembering how I’m 5th grade our history teacher let us do a PowerPoint presentation on literally any historical person (when I say any I mean any) and so I decided to do mine on Mr didn’t get into art school and hated Jews, and younger me explaining how he was an awful person and what his history was like, and when I was done my teacher made a small joke that was like “well they better let you into art school”

Tbh I don’t know what was worst, a 5th grader explaining the guy behind WWII to a bunch of other 5th graders, the fact that the teacher was cool with it, or that the teacher even made a joke

[steviescrystals]

i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane

(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)

[sweet-as-kiwis]

I PASSED ACCOUNTING LETS GO!!!!!

[mostlymaudlin]

the really fun part about being in my mid-20s and working at a place where people understand that people on their mid-20s aren’t the best decision-makers… is that i never have to make hard decisions at my job <3

[aldieb]

pros of extremely early flight: i cleaned, went grocery shopping, and did laundry so future me will have a very chill week

cons: i have to go to bed immediately bc the skull is coming for me (extreme self-flagellating abt letting down my family by not being marriageable bc now 2 couples i know have gotten engaged within a week)

[cuttingstone]

I think one of the reasons I’m so nervous to start grad school is cuz academia was one of the few things I was undeniably successful in and I’m scared I’m not going to be able to achieve that again 🚶

[whynotcherries]

i want to go to there.

[fingertipsmp3]

.

[abbaswift]

being a young autistic adult is just watching everyone your age move on and achieve things and reach milestones you may never reach

[celestialprincesse]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

When Simon had given you his work address, and the password for the door to get in, you’d scoffed at the thought of needing to use it. You’d grown comfortable in your quiet life, no longer plagued with the urge to run, with the fear of being caught up with. 

You and Charlotte. 

You’d never been able to picture your position now, shaking fingers prodding at the keypad, a crying Charlotte on your hip. So absorbed in your fear, which had struck you the moment you’d returned from Charlotte’s school pickup to see your apartment door open, that you don’t even see the bearded man opening up the door from the inside for you. 

“Everything alright, Miss?” He questions in clear concern, ushering you into the entry hall with blue eyes darting between yourself and your wailing daughter. 

“I’m here - Simon said i could find him here if I needed anything.” You hiccup, not even having noticed the tears ebbing down your cheeks, so consumed by the realisation that you need to get out. Find safety. Find Simon. Maybe even that other man you met once - Mac something.

Too distraught to protest, you allow yourself to be ushered into some sort of reception room, noting the way the older man looks behind you with a vigilant scan before shutting the door. "Is Simon Riley here?" You plead with him again, terrified at the thought of being unable to see your neighbour, having someone to soothe your wailing daughter whilst you yourself calm down.

Before the blue eyed man can get a word out, two other men are barrelling into the reception area, one of them, thankfully, being Simon. You can't help but choke out a relieved sob when he tentatively comes closer, allowing you the chance to deny his approach, which you don't.

"What happened? Can you take some deep breaths for me?"

The entire room seems to pick up into a flurry of activity the minute the other two men in the room, Simon's friend you'd met that one time, and the other man, seem to realise that not only do you and Simon know one another, but also that you and the little tot in your arms are important to him.

Simon quickly ushers you to one of the worn leather couches, although he never forces you to sit, seeing how high strung you are at the current moment, the way you clutch Charlotte to your chest like she'll be ripped from your grasp at any given moment. Meanwhile, MacTavish looks on in concern, checking the car park you'd just come in from, and the other man slowly guides a glass of water into your shaking hand.

"Door was open when I got home." You manage to choke, letting Simon ease your vice grip on your daughter, just enough to hoist her up on his hip, before pulling you into his chest.

"S' okay, yeah? Promise you're in good hands here." He soothes, rocking the three of you from side to side, taking the opportunity to share a look between Price, Soap and himself. "Listen, the boys will go and have a look, okay? Promise they won't touch anything or mess anything up, just make sure everything is okay."

You give a hesitant nod, sniffling into Simon's chest as another taller, leaner man walks into the room, his handsome features immediately twisting into concern at the odd sight.

Over the next few hours, you, Simon, Charlotte and the sweet man you'd come to know as Kyle wait out on base, nervously awaiting the return of Captain Price and Simon's closest friend Johnny.

Admittedly, your situation is terrifying, and you're still not quite sure where to go from here, but at least you're in good hands. Four pairs of them.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

[myname-isnia]

As a result of hormones, being generally exhausted from lack of sleep, and the crushing pressure of the realisation that in a year I’ll be a legal adult, I have spent the last half an hour sobbing into my pillow. Fun times all around

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[augustinewrites]

“babe. baaaabe. babe!”

“what, satoru?” you ask sharply, looking up from your laptop to where your boyfriend has spread himself across your couch, his legs in shoko’s lap. 

he lifts his shades to look at you. “was i your first crush?”

“yes,” you answer quickly.

you immediately return to the report you’re writing, missing the face shoko makes before she says, “that’s not true.” 

“ieiri,” you whisper harshly, but it’s too late. your boyfriend’s already jumped off the couch to lean his palms against your desk. 

“what? i wasn’t your first?!”

“you were,” you insist, glaring at your friend. “shoko is clearly misremembering things.”

“am i though?”

“you know what, it’s fine,” gojo sighs, slipping his shades back on and rolling the sleeve of his t-shirt up so he can flex. “obviously i’m way cooler than whatever lame schmuck high school you was crushing on.”

behind him, shoko’s scoff is the final nail in your coffin. “nanami is way cooler than you ever were.”

you slap your forehead, bracing yourself for gojo’s inevitable overreaction. 

but he doesn’t get the chance, interrupted by a light knock against your doorframe from, you guessed it, nanami kento.

“yaga said you wanted to see me?”

cue overreaction.

“you had a crush on— on him?” 

nanami swats gojo’s finger away from his cheek. 

“oh my god,” your boyfriend breathes, currently experiencing a quarterlife crisis. “you liked this emo nemo?”

nanami ignores him, sending you a questioning look. “he doesn’t know?”

“what is it now?” satoru asks, slumping back into the couch. “did you guys go on a date or something?” 

your lack of answer is enough for him to let his head fall back rather dramatically. 

“can you blame her?” shoko asks. “he was sexy back then. in an edgy, mysterious kind of way. meanwhile, you were like…if a string bean made love to a cauliflower.” 

even gojo doesn’t have a witty retort prepared for that. 

you decide to clear this up once and for all. “it wasn’t just about looks. you were busy after— after riko. you didn’t have time for a relationship or…for me. you wanted to get stronger and i didn’t want to get in your way.”

“you wouldn’t have been—”

“i would have.” you shrug. because you know him, and you know what he was like. “and that’s okay because we were still kids, satoru. and it was only one date! no need to get so torn up about it!”

_____

“what is this?” you ask later that night, when you find satoru hauling a huge box into your apartment.

“it’s a bowflex!” gojo explains proudly, patting the unopened box. “shoko said that i was built like a string bean, so i’m gonna buff up like nanami! and when megumi moves out next year, i’m gonna turn his room into a gym.”

you lean in the doorway, amused. nanami also has a home gym. “is that why you’re also wearing a suit and tie instead of your usual uniform?”

he does a show spin, letting you take it all in. you don’t even want to know how much it must have cost. “do you like it?” 

“you do look very handsome.” 

“i know,” he winks, cocky as ever. “now watch this.”

he brushes a few strands of hair over his eyes, lowering his voice a few octaves as he says, “taxes. office work. satoru, i respect you so much!”

you walk up to him, brushing the hair back to press a kiss to his forehead. “nanami would never say that last thing, but i do like the effort.” 

he loops his arms around your waist, returning the kiss and murmuring against your skin, “did it turn you on though? maybe i should get an office job—”

“satoru,” you whine, resting your forehead against his chest. “it was just a short-lived crush. and it was forever ago! i’m pretty sure you’ve had crushes that weren’t me.”

“nope,” he hums, resting his chin atop your head. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i’ve ever needed…is you.”