#my favorite bozos go for a drink

[tubesock86]

night on the town

[arolesbianism]

Finally fixating on some nugget relationships that aren't horrible for everyone I love friendship <3

[lovebugism]

omggg im craving a halloween themed , rockstar!eddie x shy!reader at a halloween party , matching costumes and everything & he sees a ton of guys hitting on her & is like ???? my baby?

here you go lovie! hope you like it! — eddie takes his girl to a bar on halloween and gets jealous when guys hit on you like you're not already his (shy!reader, rockstar!eddie, established relationship, 1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

The world didn’t know you before today.

You’ve been just Eddie Spaghetti’s girlfriend for so long — but now you’re Eddie Munson, up-and-coming rockstar and lead of Corroded Coffin’s girlfriend. The title carries a certain weight with it. You wear it with pride, but it weighs you down just the same. 

What’s weird about tonight, though, is you’re not sharing Eddie with the rest of the world like you thought you would. He’s having to share you, because everyone and their goddamn brother’s been all over you all night. 

Apparently, your coquettish rendition of The Bride of Frankenstein is making everyone else as crazy as it’s making him.

“God, go save your girlfriend, Munson,” Gareth jokes across the booth, laughing into his drink as he watches yet another guy stop you at the bar. “At least one of these assholes is gonna steal her from you.”

“She’s not property, dude. She can’t get stolen,” Jeff scolds from beside him, then flashes Eddie a sheepish glance. “But, yeah, the odds aren’t in your favor, Eds.”

Eddie pays no mind to his friends’ teasing — or the anger swirling like fire in the pit of his stomach. 

“Nah. She’s alright…” he mumbles into the rim of his glass. The whiskey burns his throat going down. It doesn’t match the flame rising in his chest at the sight of his precious girl talking to some douchebag dressed like Elvis Presley.

He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t think you weren’t a hundred percent fine. These bozos aren’t trying anything with you — hell, they can barely make conversation with you. You’re just entertaining it because you’re the sweetest thing on the earth.

It’s laughable more than anything.

He’s humored by it all. Not jealous. Definitely not jealous.

“Yeah, who’s the famous one here, again?” Jeff’s girlfriend jokes. She’d left to go to the bathroom with you but came back alone when you got stuck with dollar-store Elvis. She points to the rest of them with a long, manicured finger. “It’s you guys, right? Because I can’t really tell.”

“Fuck off…” Eddie grouses, forcing a grin while the rest of them laugh.

You return then, with a drink in hand and a frown on your face at the sight of your suddenly grumpy boyfriend. “You okay?” you wonder quietly, smoothing down your skirt when you slide into the booth.

The boy moves over to make room for you. “‘M fine,” he answers with a mumble that makes you assume otherwise. 

You reach a hand to his face, smoothing fluffy curls behind his ear. His cheek is warm against your palm. His faded seafoam Frankenstein paint job smears on your wrist.

“‘M sorry for taking so long. Some guy stopped me on the way over. I didn’t wanna be rude.”

Eddie shakes his head. Not a single part of him blamed you.

“It’s okay, babe. Not your fault.” 

He’s full-on beaming now. Just because you called that asshole “some guy.” It feels good to hear you say that, to know that that’s all he is to you — just some fuckin’ guy. You won’t remember him later, if you still do even now.

Honestly, you’ll be lucky to remember your own name at the end of tonight.

“He get that drink for you?” Eddie asks, nodding to the frosted glass in your fist.

You shrug. “Yeah. He bought it, but I watched the bartender make it, so it’s fine.”

He nods, proud and sparkling with it. “Good.”

“What is it?” Gareth wonders, squinting across the table.

“An Old-Fashioned.”

“You hate whiskey,” Eddie laughs, licking the alcohol from the plush of his bottom lip.

“Well, yeah, but he asked what I liked, and I didn’t know what to say, so I just told him your favorite drink,” you ramble, all mousy, as you drag the falling sleeve of your corset back up your shoulder. 

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment, still a bit overwhelmed by the attention.

Eddie’s grinning something fierce beside you. His chest swells with so much pride he thinks he might burst.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest fuckin’ thing?” he singsongs with a rosy grin, wrapping the ripped sleeve of his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. 

Then he kisses you. Like, really kisses you. 

It’s deep and intimate and sloppy. He opens your mouth with his and slithers his tongue inside. He tastes like bitter-sweet alcohol. You get drunk on him accordingly. 

The rest of the table gags.

Your lips click audibly when Eddie pulls away. His smile glistens with a mixture of your saliva, lips a deeper shade of pink and slightly swollen. You wipe your chin with the back of your mouth — some of Eddie’s face paint comes with it.

“Where’s he now?” the boy asks with a mischievous squint in his deep chocolate eyes.

You shrug, totally uncaring and just wanting to be kissed. “I dunno.”

“Still at the bar,” Gareth answers for you, snickering to himself. “Giving your girl the sex eyes.”

Your face screws up in disgust. “Sex eyes?” you repeat, nose scrunched.

The group laughs.

“Think you can get him to buy you a round? You know, for the table?” Eddie asks you. His fingers trace shapes on your bare shoulder. You have to fight back a shiver.

“You want me to go talk to him?” you gape, like you must’ve heard him wrong.

“I want you to go get us drinks, sweet thing. Work your magic, you know?”

He’s not in the most right headspace right now. You know this. He’s still high on the post-show adrenaline and mellow on the alcohol.  He’s jealous and in love with you and aflame with hatred for bootleg Elvis Presley. He gets rash when he’s raging, risky and unpredictable — a deadly concoction.

“Eds…” you hum quietly, brows scrunched like the idea pains you. “I don’t wanna make you mad…”

“You won’t make me mad, sweet thing,” Eddie assures, squeezing your shoulder. He presses a sanguine peck to your waiting mouth, then his voice gets all low. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll reward you after.”

He smacks one last kiss to your buzzing lips.

You blink at him until your senses return to you. You slide out from the booth and saunter back to Some Guy, who’s seemingly been waiting on your return this whole time. 

There’s a sudden sway to your hips now, but it’s not for him. 

It’s for Eddie.

The boy with the wild hair back at the booth, missing splotches of his face paint and wearing your lipstick knows this too.

[thelemoncoffee]

hey gang i'm deranged!!

i may not like the idea of kokichi being addicted to Panta, but apparently i am cause i just spent the past several hours of my life designing Panta cans and coming up with Panta lore

for context- it started cause i was watching those "redesigning snack packaging" videos, and it sparked some inspo in me to make my own attempt at knockoff snack packaging. as it turns out i can only make one really obvious knockoff snack before i get too creative and start making stuff that could unironically stand on it's own

after making Pop Pies (knockoff poptarts), Florida Icetea (Arizona knockoff), and Koffi-Kats (coffee kitkat knockoff), i remembered that Panta was a thing and went "hey so what if i redesigned Panta so it wasn't just the Fanta logo with a p?" and everything went down hill from there

i present to you: Kai's hc universe version of Panta!

okay so there's ALOT i did actually so buckle up

first off- i wanted to make it look like something Kokichi would actually pick up, and that resulted in me coming up with the idea that Panta use to be a shameless japanese Fanta knockoff when it was first made, but they decided to get their own identity and started marketing towards the alt community with a non-serious clowning/trickster/delinquent focused branding.

i imagine they ended up being niche but also having a loyal following in whatever juggalo or juggalo-adjacent scene might be in Japan, which is how Kokichi got into it

second off- as you can see i came up with four different drink lines. the idea is they have their fruity soda line with all the base flavors, and then they reuse those flavors and their names for the other three lines. their default flavor is Clownin' Concord, and along with it their og flavor set also had Chucklin’ Cherry, Mischievous Melon, Bozo Blueberry, and Loosey-Goosey Lemon-Lime, from there they added more flavors to their roster over the years and even did some limited edition flavors that come back seasonally (i do have a full list, but i'm not showing it on this post. if you shoot me an ask i'd gladly share it there)

for the actual other lines: -Slap Shtick Sour is what warhead soda should have been- an actually fucking sour soda. i imagine them to be pretty damn tart but like in a good way that you can't get enough of (Kokichi's favorite cause it's strong enough he can actually taste it) -Pie Face! is a cream soda line, plain and simple. i know Japan really likes melon soda floats and calls them cream sodas, so i went "what if Panta did that, but more, and in a can" -Manic Mischief is their energy drink line, i have no further explanation for this they're just fruity energy drinks

i haven't done sugar free cause i think with their branding style they'd take pride in how sugary and in your face they are, so a sugar-free variant would actively go against that

for packaging you may notice they're all cans and no bottles- it wasn't initially intentional but after i noticed i had only been doing cans i decided it'd be a funky gimmick if they only ever made cans, no bottles. what do they do for liter bottles then? mini keg. no i'm not kidding, they do mini kegs instead- it fits the off kilter grungy vibes everything else has so it's not too horribly out of pocket.

i also plan on designing some candy packaging cause i do have ideas for Panta flavored hard candies and soft chews, but i'm not postponing this post another several hours to make them.

finally, just as a bonus- have the logo on it's own plus their slogan i pulled out of my ass

[stillnotyourmusebitch]

I can’t stop thinking of demon! Adam going through development and reaching the point of like,, doing something nice without anyone telling him to do it, purely for the sake of doing it. Something he never would have done before. Even if it’s something as small as sitting down with you while you’re watching your favorite movie or show and not shitting on it the whole time, just to keep you company. Or something like that. I dunno. I’m just a sucker for slow burn subtextual romance.

THAT, and the reader seeing his face beneath the mask, looking him the eyes, and smiling a little. Even if they say nothing. I feel like that would stick with him.

Exactly. Demon!Adam lives in my head rent free now. I know this weren't a request of sorts but I kinda wrote something for this

random ficlet below

Demon!Adam x GN!reader (Fluff)

DemonSinner!Adam is something that plays on my mind a lot. He still doesn’t believe in the whole redemption shit that Charlie is laying down but if it gets him a glimpse of seeing heaven again he is willing to try.

-----

Adam was bored and needed something to do that would put off the inevitable “therapy” session with Lucifer’s brat later. So that must be why he finds himself outside your room. He knocks lightly on your door. You didn’t answer, he knocked again louder this time. Still no answer. So he opens the door and peers in.

“Hey errr (Y/n) Charlie asked me to check on you.” A blatant lie but he won’t tell you that.

He sees you’re watching TV.

“Huh? What no shitty nickname this time?” You mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn. Adam walks over and flops down on the couch next to you.

“Oh yeah, nah I didn’t really feel like it.” He grabs a handful of your popcorn.

You quirk a brow.

“Also Charlie said nooo giving nicknames to people that demean them and also who don’t want it and people were given names to be used blah blah blah.” He shoves the popcorn into his mouth. “So what are we watchin?”

“I'm watching a movie I really like so if you're staying either shut up or fuck off.” You sink back into your blanket cocoon.

*10 minutes later*

“What the fuck! This guy clearly likes her but she goes for the other bozo. Is she blind . . . . as well as ya know hot.”

You choke on your drink. You didn’t think that this would be his kinda thing but here he was emotionally invested in the film you had picked. You had really wanted to just wallow in your depression by binge watching trashy romcoms but what was really making you feel better was watching the ‘dickmaster’ himself rooting for the underdog to open up about his feelings to the lead woman.

You go to grab some popcorn but see the bowl is empty.

“Gotta pause.” You go to stand but he stops you.

“I got this.” He hides the good deed by quickly saying “And I need to piss anyway.” You pass him the bowl.

“Not in the popcorn I hope.” You rearrange yourself back in your blanket burrito.

“HAA, You nasty but don’t watch without me. Coz that is a dick move.”

“You know all about those.” You mutter into the blanket. But Adam had gone to the hotel kitchen to make popcorn.

You chose to scroll on your phone until he got back. There were a few messages but you didn’t really feel like answering them. You flop on your side. You can always move when he came back.

While you waited in silence for Adam. You think back on how he really was getting better. After seeing him slowly open up to Charlie’s ideas and seeing that he can be a good guy when it suits him. You smile to yourself.

Your door slams open.

“Okay I’m back bitch.”

Nevermind looks like he has thrown up his walls again.

He lays out the armful of snacks and the bowl of popcorn that looks way bigger than the bowl he left with. He sees you on your side.

“You comfy down there?”

You groan and slowly sit up again. He sits back down but wraps an arm around you and hugs you into his side and nothing more.

“Okay we can continue now.” He grabs the popcorn and rests it on his lap.

You set the movie going again and snuggle just a little bit closer. For popcorn reasons of course not that Adam was nice and warm and you felt safe next to him.

“Clearly she don’t know a good thing when she sees it.” You pipe up after about three minutes into the film again. You had seen this film so many times but there was one scene that always brought out annoyance in you.

“Right!! She needs to open her eyes this guy clearly loves her for who they are and not some fake ass bs that other . . . what?” Adam stops mid-sentence looking down at you resting against his chest.

You blink a few times before realising you are staring “Huh oh nothing.”

You focus back on the screen in front of you.

The climatic end of the film was approaching and the main lead were confessing their love and as the credits role you can here someone crying. You glance up and see Adam wiping away tears.

“You okay.” You sit up and reach for the tissues on the table to hand them to him.

“What!!! I’m fine. Of course I’m fiiiine. Shut up bitch.” He grabs the tissue box from you.

“If it helps I cried the first time I watched this movie.” You wrap the blankets tighter around yourself.

“I . . . ah . . shit.” He saw you curling further in on yourself. He feels guilt crawling into his stomach. “Sorry, I’m . . .Ugh. Look I’m bad at these feel your feelings crap that Charlie spouts. But it was a good film and yeah I cried but . . .”

“It don’t make you any less of a man.”

“Yeeeah I know. Of course I know. I’m the first man.”

“Huh back to that are we.” You bump shoulders with him, making him laugh.

He pulls you back into his side “So what are we watching now?”

------

I really didn't mean for this to be as long as it was. I'm sorry

[princessconsuela120]

☾ Padfoot vs Prongs ☾

— ☾

Summary: A pregnancy in 7th year isn't exactly ideal...neither is your best friend and brothers annoying antics.

Warnings: pregnancy, fluff

Author's Note: just a shorty drabble i had sitting in my drafts. ill be posting requests soon!

— ☾

“Whisky!” James shouted, barreling into the room with Sirius a close foot behind. You rolled your eyes at the nickname, looking up from the book that had been occupying you for the past half hour. Ever since the boys had discovered your animagus was a cat, your brother James had deemed you the nickname Whiskers. Ironic that Fire Whisky had also been your favorite and dearly missed drink since the start of your pregnancy.

“Can I help you bozos?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at the two boys who had wide smiles adorning their faces.

“Who has better hair, me or Padfoot.” James asked, causing you to roll your eyes.

“I’m not doing this you guys.” You replied quickly, shifting in your spot as the boys appeared from behind the couch.

“Come on just tell us.” James asked, stomping his foot slightly like a child.

“I said I’m not doing this, where’s Moony he needs to help me up.” You grumbled, still trying to get up from your spot and failing.

“He’s out.” Sirius said, a smirk on his face as you groaned, rolling your eyes.

“And you can’t get up and walk away without our help so, answer the question.” James teased, making you groan even louder, throwing your head back with frustration.

“I hate you both.” You hissed, making James hold his Chet with fake hurt as Sirius smirked.

“We love you too. But that wasn’t the question.” Sirius said, causing you to hold your hands out with anger,

“Please just help me up.” You mumbled, struggling to stand with your large bump in the way.

“No.” 

“Oh come on.” You whined, flailing around slightly with frustration.

“Not until you answer us.”

“I am not answering you, this is ridiculous!” You shouted, letting your head fall back angrily, as the door gently swung open, catching everyone’s attention. Your face couldn’t help but light up with a smile when your boyfriend, Remus, appeared at the doorway, his hands full of bags from Hogsmead.

“Okay, I’ve brought you the new chocolates from Hogsmeade. Not only are they delicious but Honeydukes swears by it’s healing power.” He explained, walking over to hand you a box.

“Remus, thank god, come help me up.” You said eagerly, before Remus shook his head.

“Nope.” He said quickly, sitting beside you. You stared at him for a moment in shock.

“What?” “Ha!”

You and the boys yelled in unison, causing Remus to sigh.

“Sorry love, but you’re on bed rest. Can’t risk hurting you or our little moon.” Remus explained, rubbing your bump gently with a kind smile on his face. You couldn’t even be mad at the sweetness of it.

“This is a travesty.” You sighed, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Perfect, now you can’t move, and you need to answer our question.” Sirius teased, causing Remus to perk up slightly with interest.

“What’s the question?” He asked, making James smile proudly.

“Which one of us has the better hair, me or Padfoot?” He asked.

Remus turned to face you, a nervous look on his face as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Alright come on, to the common room we go.” Remus said, helping you get up as you cheered to yourself.

“Hey!”

“She just didn’t wanna hurt your feelings cause you’re her best friend.” James said angrily, shaking his head as Sirius shoved him.

“You’re her brother! She’d wanna protect your feelings more!” He argued, before you appeared quickly in the doorway.

“For the record, the answer was Padfoot.” You said quickly, before gesturing to Remus to hurry up and help you out the room.

“Hey!” James shouted, about to come run after you before he noticed you had taken his invisibility cloak from his desk.

“Yes!” Sirius cheered, looking at himself in your mirror proudly, shaping his face, and his ego.

[beanghostprincess]

Ya know there is so much in the Fandom and yet I have noticed a distinct lack of Buggy and Sanji content.

Not in a shipping way either but like. Buggy, the Flashiest Pirate In The East, would ABSOLUTELY go to the Baratie if only for the renown it has for its food. Also I bet he knew - or knew OF Zeff at the very least - when he was still a pirate. Buggy visiting the Baratie occasionally, sometimes in Normal Flashy Fashion, sometimes more toned down because he just needs a bit of a break. Zeff would absolutely take one look at this traumatized little hobgoblin of a pirate and go "oh wow. Someone get this bitch a meal. Bitches love meals"

Sanji, a wee tyke learning the ways of the kitchen, sees this absolute bozo who he, at first, assumes to be a second rate pirate. Zeff is better. Zeff tells all these stories about the Old Ways, the Pirate's Code, and Sanji thinks "this clown doesn't know the meaning of a code"

Then smth happens to completely change his tune. Maybe Buggy says or does something. Maybe Sanji overhears or sees smth. Maybe someone else kicks a fuss, and Buggy responds in the Right Ways. Who knows?

But Sanji is now intrigued. And Sanji is a kid, with lots of trauma sure, but a kid nonetheless. And Buggy Notices.

He gets forcibly assimilated into Sanji's found family. He never agreed to this. He never had a choice.

Sanji grows up with Zeff and uncle Buggy. He happens to leave with the Strawhats at the perfect time to do so - and he keeps avoiding Buggy via near misses, to the point Bugs is SEETHING playfully. How dare. Truly. All of his nephews are EVIL.

It comes to a head when, years later, with Emperors crowned, there is a series of wacky shenanigans which lead to Cross Guild and the Strawhats meeting face to face.

Sanji is flabbergasted by the realization that he now has step-uncles, one of which is the mosshead's mentor/father-figure. The other is the brutal ex dictator of Alabasta who later passed the captain's vibe check and might just be said captain's other father, there is no confirmation.

Buggy meanwhile is having twelve different attacks of a variety of nature bc he's due for his yearly fight to the death with his one nephew, and the other is here and within throttling range and - IS THAT A HICKEY!?!?!

Cue veeeerry awkward Meet The Family where Buggy and Usopp actually get along well while Sanji is debating his chances of kicking these men's asses and if it would dishonor Zoro's dreams if he threatened mihawk....

Both conversations boil down to "he's been through a lot, so be good to him or you'll be hearing from me, okay? Okay. Good."

Usopp actually is chill with this both bc "I would never" and also "even if he came for me, I could kick a clown's ass probably. If nit me, then Luffy. And if Luffy doesn't, then I will deserve it."

Crocodile and Mihawk are mildly amused but also curious - the clown? Having trauma? As if. They think of it initially as smth of a comparison. Severity of trauma is the highest rank. They think of Buggy's past as "his captain died, he broke up with his best friend, the end". They do not know of the interim details. The reasons that Shank and he both refuse to allow anyone below 14 at the bare minimum onto their crews. The reason Buggy was frothing when Shanks told him about Uta - after the fact. The reason Buggy only drinks certain brands of rum because some make him physically sick. The reason he can't sleep in pitch black darkness. The reason he sometimes simply Can't Sleep At All.

There's more to it, to everything, to all of it, than any one person knows.

Just. Back on topic but Buggy and Sanji. I just think they'd have the neatest dynamic.

You just chose two of my favorite characters and did THIS and I love it 😭 The funny thing is that it does make sense that Buggy had gone to the Baratie and met Sanji at some point... I've always thought mostly on Usopp/Buggy parallelisms but Sanji kind of relating to Buggy too because of feeling inferior to his family,,,, Besides I think the dynamic would be hilarious because okay, they get along, but I can imagine them growing closer and caring about each other but arguing all the time Sanji/Zeff style? So at first, everybody thinks he has something against Buggy because when they meet they won't stop yelling at each other but when they ask them about it, Sanji is like "??? Nah, he's something like my uncle don't- Don't think too hard about it". And I am also SO sure Sanji would know stuff about Shanks that Luffy doesn't because Buggy explained Sanji their childhoods,,, Going insane about this one, actually.

[madhattersez]

Retro Junk Haul

A few months back, I went on a journey to Kansas, which is -the- state to go to for antique shops that have good shit that has not been picked by a bunch of flippers... all for for ridiculously low prices.

So, what did I grab, my lovelies? THESE!

We'll start with a couple Star Trek figures that are awesome. First of all, you GOTTA have a LeVar Burton around. Also, a Ferengi, which I haven't really ever seen out in the wild before.

There's a real big Skulkor action figure that still spins like crazy, and a very thigh-gappy Jocasta.

The real cool one here is this super rare Crypt Keeper, though! I found him buried under bucket full of Barbies. Always dig in a bucket of Barbies.

I have been looking everywhere for these three exact Frightning Lightnings for years, especially the proper black version of Elvira's Macabre Mobile! YES. Also grabbed the Ecto 1A from Ghostbusters II and Stephen King's Christine.

There's a Space Channel 5 Hot Wheels car here, which I never knew existed, and a random A-10 plane, which is my second favorite plane. (B-17 first and always!)

There's more after the jump!

A dope Sailor Moon VHS with a sparkly, shiny Sailor Jupiter cover.

A shitty Shrek 2 puzzle. An original A&W frosty mug like I used to drink out of as a kid at Nu Way Café in Wichita, Kansas.

And a... suspiciously licensed Star Trek card game I have yet to play.

More Happy Meal toys for the collection!

I finally cracked and bought some of these Astroniks, which I hadn't started collecting yet because, like Mac Tonight, they are hard to get for a cheap price. I spent $15 on all of these in a single bag, though, so I almost have them all now!

A couple Roger Rabbit Disneyland viewers, a Fraggle Rock... cucumbermobile? And a Hamburglar I did not have yet.

Comics! Radio Shack TRS-80 Whiz Kids books are hard to come by.

Some various Archie pals, and other random thangs.

The sealed, vintage Bozo the Clown party game was a ridiculous $3.

And magazines. I'm a sucker for 'em.

G.I. Joe and Wizard. Hell yes. So much material in here to clip for future collages!

Story books - These Masters of the Universe covers go HARD!

Also, a Power Rangers book for 50 cents. Can't turn that down.

...

Now, the final amazing find... Something I have been wanting for years and years and years. Decades, even!

ARE YOU READY FOR THIS SHIT?!

Finally! My very own Nintendo R.O.B. in fantastic condition!

I need to grab a few more parts (probably from the Japanese version to save money) before I test him out to see if he works, but I don't even care if he does - I will display him and love him and scratch his head and give him little smooches forever and ever.

[willowser]

☕️ - for the selfship ask game!

how do you comfort each other on a bad day ?

kirishima probably babies me LMAOOO but he just wants me to feel better 🥺 i attach to his back like a monkey and he carries me with him everywhere 🥺 and then he probably takes a bath with me and we drink hot chocolate 😌✨️ aww he probably does fun stuff with me too, though, like gets out my face mask and does it with me and then we take funny photos in the mirror 🥺🥺🥺 and he's a really good listener 🥺🥺 we watch my favorite movies 🥺 we quote lotr the whole time we watch it 🥺

bad days with kiri are probably really hard actually, because i think he doesn't want to burden me with his issues ??? and so something is clearly upsetting him, but he's trying to put on a brave face 🥺 and even when i can tell something is wrong, he still doesn't tell me when i ask 🥺 and i tell him, like, we're a team !! we're a partnership !! i want to help you !! but he just smiles at me and says, "you do help me :')" and then i'm all LISTEN HERE BOZO—

no, i don't say that LOL i think he has to feel worse in order to feel better, actually. like he's got to let go. and so i spend a lot of time being huggy and telling him how proud i am of him 🥺 how good of a man he is 🥺 how lucky i am to have him 🥺 and then he probably cries LOL but then he feels lighter afterwards, finally 😌😌🍓✨️ POOR THING !!!

💗 self-ship game 🪻

[thelittlesorceressbg3]

It’s fanfic Friday so here’s the next part of Waverly’s fic for the tumblr folk!

The Little Sorceress; the Chronicles of Gale and Waverly

Baldur’s Gate 3, Gale x Tav

Chapter 2: Last Light Aftermath

“You can trust us, Alfira.” Waverly sandwiched the bard’s shaking hand between her own.

“I know. You’ve been there for us every step of the way.” Alfira sobbed.

Everyone in the Last Light Inn was still shaken up after Marcus’s betrayal. Waverly and company made short work of the bozo and his winged horrors and Isobel, the Selunite keeper of the inn and the target of the attack remained intact.

Waverly made her rounds around the first floor of the inn, checking in with everyone. Such was her overly helpful nature. By the front door Jaheira was delegating orders to the other harpers, near the bar the children were fussing and fretting over Mol, a little tiefling girl one of the horrors got away with. Rolan was sitting at the bar drinking himself blind.

And behind the bar, amongst the vintages, was the strapping wizard who still could make Waverly’s heart skip a beat with a single glance. His fingers stroked his bearded chin as he moved his face closer to the labels on the various bottles.

“Need me to be your eyes, old man? I don’t think Isobel will appreciate you sniffing the bottles.” Waverly smiled.

“Are you alright? I lost you after the…”excitement” had been taken care of.” Gale straightened himself out and leaned against the wine rack.

“Yes, I’ve just been seeing how everyone is faring, making sure no one needs anything.” Waverly tried to hide the fact her own hands were still a little shaky. But were they shaking from the high stakes they had just fought off, or from Gale’s intoxicating scent of dusty old books and lavender?

Gale gave a quick laugh through his nose. “Of course you were.” He grabbed a bottle off the rack, brought it closer to his eyes and made an expression most terse. “I must say, their selection here is quite disappointing. I’d only serve a blend called ‘Baldur’s Grape’ to someone I didn’t like.”

“Hey, Wyll says the cheaper the swill, the better the buzz. Crack it open! And pour me a glass.” Waverly laughed. She always failed to notice the way her laugh made Gale visibly melt.

Gale found the two least-dirty looking goblets behind the bar, popped the cork off the bottle and poured them each a glass of the questionable hardly-vintage.

“I hope there’s somewhere here I can take a bath; Lae’zel got a bit carried away with her sword on Marcus. Great for Isobel; my new robe? Not so much.” Waverly gestured to her entire blood splattered self.

Gale handed Waverly her cup. “Do you ever regret leaving your tower? Do you ever wish you could just go back to the normalcy and comfort of your life before the tadpoles and the absolute?”

She didn’t. For twenty years she’d never seen the world beyond the view from her bedroom, only reading about friends and adventures in distant lands in storybooks. Now she was on an adventure grander than anything in her library, with friends, something she’d never had before. Not just any friends; the most unlikely but best friends she could have ever hoped for.

But what about her mother? She was her mother’s whole world, there was no doubt she was worried sick and had been ever since the nautiloid took her. And yet, Waverly was in no hurry to go back home to her, to that cage her mother called safety. What kind of daughter was she?

Waverly shook her head. “Not really. Why, do you?”

Gale shrugged. “I won’t lie, I’ve been feeling a little homesick as of late. There have been many a night that I miss my bed, I miss the view from my favorite reading spot, I miss Tara. More and more so recently.”

Gale swirled his wine in its glass. Waverly knew the last few days had been weighing heavily on him, ever since that cowardly goddess sent Elminster to kindly tell him to kill himself on her behalf. He had been putting on a brave face, but Waverly knew him better than that.

“It’s why I was over here looking for a drink; I’d hoped to find a taste of home, like a nice Shadowdark or something. And now, given the most recent developments, I don’t know if I’m ever going to see those things again.” Gale stared into his drink, deflating with a shaky breath.

Mystra; Waverly had never hated someone she’d never met so much. It killed her that Gale didn’t see himself the way she saw him. That that fucking cow made him feel so little that he believed all he was good for was dying.

“Gale, I’ll say it as many times as I have to. We are going to find another way. You are an immensely talented wizard, and if that alone wasn’t enough, you’re not alone anymore. You have friends fighting by your side. And me, for whatever that’s worth. We are going to defeat the absolute, and you’re going to be standing at our side when it’s done.”

“Thank you.” He acknowledged her with the most subtle of nods. “It is quite thrilling, to fight off such grim creatures as this region throws at us. Especially being at your side.”

“We do make a pretty good team, don’t we?” Waverly held out her glass for a toast.

They clinked glasses, and Gale brought his to his lips for a sip. His face quickly shriveled up. “Good gods, this is dreadful.”

“It’s really bad.” Waverly giggled. “Guess you better chug it.”

Without further ado Gale scrunched up his face and threw back what was left of his drink. Waverly watched him, wide eyed. She didn’t think he’d actually do it.

“What? You think because I’m a wizard I’m no fun?” His smile did Waverly’s heart good. “You know, I once read a book that explained in some detail the effect a brush with danger can have on one’s desire for…other forms of stimulation. Have you ever read anything on that subject?”

“Read it? I could have written the thing.” Waverly joked as she took another sip of her wine.

“I’d believe you. You never look so beautiful as at the end of a stirring battle.”

Waverly nearly spit out her drink.

Gale leaned in closer, his brown eyes sparkling; he always had the kindest eyes. His strong brow relaxed. He spoke softly. “Your cheeks flushed, gaze bright, muscles glistening.”

Waverly’s lip quivered; his face was so close to hers.

“Perhaps it’s just the thrill of our near undead experience talking. But standing at your side through such darkness and disrepair…it only makes me want you more.”

Oh my gods was this it? Was it happening? A shiver shot down her spine, her knees buckled. Oh, GODS, she would have welcomed him sweeping everything off of that bar and taking her right there, bystanders be damned. That’s how bad she wanted him.

Gale cleared his throat and pulled away.

DAMMIT!

“Unfortunately this is neither the time nor the place to indulge such feelings. So, we must be patient and push all such thoughts aside. For now.”

DAMMIT DAMNIT DAMMIT!

“Hey!” Rolan slurred. “If you two are done, could you at least make yourselves useful and grab me another drink?!’

Wanna keep reading? All available chapters can be found on Google Docs! (I’m currently in the process of moving over to AO3)

[tombeane-blog]

Changing The World - One Cucumber At A Time

"But what I do prefer,

Is a little bit of cu-cum-cu-cum-cu-cum,

Little bit of cucumber."

Harry Champion - "A little bit of Cucumber"

I never liked cucumbers.  Didn't hate them.  At least I didn't hate them with all my heart and soul.   If I saw them in my salad I wouldn't pick them out.  I would just pour a little extra dressing on them. But if I ate all of my salad and there were a couple left all alone on the bottom of the bowl, I would absolutely donate them to the landfill.

I go to the gym at 4:30 in the morning.  Meeting me at the front desk are the night crew.  I'll call them Bob and Bobbie.  I'm usually heading home about 6:00 just as they are ending their work day.  We usually chat for 5 or 10 minutes. 

A few months ago as we passed the time chatting about World Affairs, the latest advances in Nuclear Physics and exchanging favorite flavors of Gatorade, Bob recommended I try the new Lime Cucumber flavor.  I told him I had a lifelong love of Cucumbers similar to my life long love of Covid infected garden slugs.  He said, "Yeah me too, but these are pretty good.  And folks seem to like them.".  Being weak kneed against peer pressure I told him to put one my tab but warned,  "I'll try one but don't expect me to like it."

I got hooked.  I feel terrible admitting it, but I loved them from the first sip.  I became an addict.  

Just like the old kids song...

"Tom and LC,

sittin' in a tree,

S  I  P  P  I  N  G."

Unfortunately, the gym kept running out so I would drink them for a week or so and then go without - waiting for the next delivery.

Time went by and I learned to buy extras when they were in stock - to tide me over during the dry times.

I teased Bob and Bobbie every day about going cold turkey and jonesing for my Lime Cucumber. 

"Who's watching the inventory around here?  Why can't your bosses see that you are always out of them?  Why don't they know enough to buy extra cases for God's sake?"

"Bozos!!!"

This week is Bobbie's last week.  She's moving on to greener pastures.

Tuesday as I was leaving, Bob said that Bobbie had left me a note before going home.  I read the note:  "A little gift for a great customer (signed) Bobbie."

Alongside were a couple of Lime Cucumber Gatorade's.

Then to top it off, Bob added, "I was at WinCo this weekend and the Lime Cucumbers were on sale so....".  And he handed me an 8 pack.

I'm pretty sure that the night shift employees at Planet Fitness aren't getting rich.

To be clear, let me re-type that for my many, many friends who live near Suck-Egg Hollow, Tennessee:

They ain't makin' diddley (Northern part of Suck-Egg Hollow), 

or, 

They ain't livin' in high cotton (Southern part of Suck-Egg Hollow).

I was flabbergasted.  Something caught my eye.  I looked to my left and saw that I was beside myself.

I've mentioned before about old age and hormonal changes - turning he-men into blubbering pansies.

I had to work hard to hold back a tear.

[sunny6677]

Flower Boy

A Sodapop x Male! Reader

CHAPTER 1: A Customer.

TW FOR STORY: IMPLIED HOMOPHOBIA, HOMOPHOBIA, INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA, PROFANITY, MENTIONS OF PEOPLE GOING MISSING, JOHNNYS DEATH.

TW FOR CHAPTER: None.

Disclaimer: The first few chapters take place before the story even begins, so Johnny is still alive at this current time in the story.

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

You ain't ever see too many men walkin' around here not causin' rumbles or not gettin' into fights with any Greasers or Socs.

Those Greasies and those Socies or whatever had always been rivalin' one another, no matter the gender; gettin' into verbal disputes and rumblin' with one another like someone from an insane asylum.

Yet here was I, neither a Socie or a Greasie. Some would consider me a Socs, but I think I'd consider me an actual normal person.

Ya see, my mother here, see, she had above average money but she wasn't rich or anythin'. My father owned a car, and me and my siblings had enough food to be fed.

The Socies were rich folk; folk who ain't ever have to worry 'bout what they need to do for a livin' or nothin'. All they have to do is ask their parents, and they can bet away with anythin'.

The Greasies, or Greasers; were among the poor folk. Greasy hair, with usually jackets.

As different as they treated eachother, for me, they weren't so different.

I can see the way they act around eachother, the sunset is clear enough. Different as they think the other is, they still set just about the same.

As for me, I'm among the wise men who don't get into fights and drink beer for funsies like a total bozo.

I'm 16 years old and I'm workin' at a flower shop downtown called Floral Heavens. I ain't too fond of the greasies and the socies who pass by callin' me 'Flower Boy', since they seem to think me workin' at a flower shop makes me less of a man somehow.

I ain't bothered by 'em though. When they're all in their nursing homes in the near future and have to be cared for due to their alcoholic problems, I'll learn to grow outta my annoyance for their meaningless insults, i'm sure.

But as for this here story I'm about to tell ya; let me tell ya now, this little Greasie here, see, was the only Greasie I didn't find myself wantin' to shoot myself with.

And how this story started was easy.

Ya see, I was doin' my normal stuff-- i clocked in and gave anyone who came in to check out the flowers or buy some a warm greetin' like I always did.

The shop here, see, was like a total greenhouse. The sunlight would peek in from the windows, givin' it a warm aura of some sorts.

Some flowers would be stuck in their pots, and some were strung along the walls for decoration. People here loved the atmosphere, and I'm pretty sure my boss knew that damn well.

It was upon one Saturday evenin' a certain man walked in. I looked up, and realized it was one of those damn Greasies.

I was wonderin' though-- what on earth was a Greasie doin' in a flower shop? Maybe he was buyin' somethin' for his girlfriend? Did he even have one?

What was kinda off about 'em was his looks. With his luscious dark gold hair and those dark brown eyes of caramel, it was a wonder that he was even real. He had a goofy grin on his face that I couldn't help but grin back at as he walked in with his hands in his pockets.

"Hey, pal-- whatcha here for? You buyin' somethin' for a honey of yours?" I asked, smilin' at his weird movie star type looks.

His hair shimmered in the sunlight reflectin' from the window as he stared into my eyes and told me; "Yep.. now what have ya got, sir? You have any daisies?"

"Why sure, I believe we do-- wouldn't ya normally be buyin' a rose for a honey o' yours though?" I asked, while turnin' to go look for the daisies that were layin' off somewhere.

Even though I was no longer facin' 'em, I could hear his smile. "Nah, daisies are her favorite. I wanna make her happy, so i'm buyin' her one."

"Mm-- I see. Ya want a bouquet of 'em?"

"Yep."

I got a bouquet of daisies. I didn't know why, but I felt a lil' happy. It had been a while since I saw someone buy somethin' different for a sweetheart of theirs. It made my boredom quite less persistent with this work environment.

I walked up to the counter, and handed 'em to that boy with a smile.

"That'll be a dollar. People don't want 'em often, so they're less pricey."

He grinned with a giggle, and checked his pockets while sayin; "Oh yeah? Well I betcha if my girl ever came up here, you'd be loaded with tons of moneys with how much she'd buy."

"Oh really? That'd be real nice of her. Maybe if ya take her up here sometime, she could lend me a twenty with how much she'd be willin' to pay for."

"Heh, you betcha. I'm curious, I didn't think I ever saw you around before-- ya new?"

"Well, I just got the job, so you could say somewhat."

"Oh really now? Whats your name?"

"Y/N. Why? Do I look familiar or somethin'?" I smiled.

"Pffft, yeah. Your that guy I robbed a bank with a decade ago." He joked.

"Heheh.. how'd ya know?"

I didn't ever meet someone with such a charmin' way of doin' anythin' before. If I'm bein' honest, I was already hopin' this guy would come back sometime soon.

He smirked, "Heh.. ya can't hide from me that easy. Names Sodapop by the way."

"Sodapop? Really? Thats a real cool name."

"Why thank ya-- ya have a real cool name yourself, pal."

"Well, I thank ya too. Have ya ever come by here before?"

"No, but I see ladies and their girlfriends comin' in up in here all the time. Figured it'd be a nice gift for my girl an' all, so thats why I'm here."

"Well, I'm sure she'll appreciate it-- ya wanna-- ya wanna take a look around or will this be your way off now?"

Asked I. I myself didn't realize it at the time, but I think this was the beginnin' of my big old fascination with this man.

"Nah, I'll be off now. But I'll come back sometime to look around, so no sweat--"

He then went towards the exit, and opened it up, leaving a ray of sunshine to glow in. "Well, I'll see ya! Bye!" He waved with that goofy ol' grin of his.

"Ah-- bye.." Truth be told, as he exited that door, I was hopin' he'd come back a minute later for more. With that attitude of his, I could tell he was a good kid, even though he was most likely a Greasie.

But that attitude of his was enough to make me fall in love with him later on; and fallin' in love with another man in this time was a dangerous game. Especially if you didn't know whether they liked you back or not.

The game hadn't been started yet, but I knew deep down from the very start soon it would have to be played. I and Soda, the chess pieces. And the ones movin' the chess pieces, the gods above playin' with us.

[onceupon]

London Boy - Part 3: I like girls that dance

summary: It’s your first night out and your first real introduction to Westheath. Rafe is quick to find his way on your radar.

pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)

warnings: swearing, drinking

word count: 4.6k

a/n: the way I’m imagining Jack Harlow as I write Liam 😩✋also, im pulling these chapter titles out of my ass - but actually tho, go listen to Girls That Dance by Masego 

Part 1 Part 2

Despite your doubts, you put on the sheer top and the black mini skirt Millie and Olivia had insisted you wear. Your favorite pregame playlist plays as you do your makeup in the mirror. You move as quickly as you can, in desperate need of a shot to calm your nerves before your flat fills with people. You’re also nervous about seeing Rafe after that encounter in the kitchen you just had. 

As you run your fingers through your hair and put on your earrings, all you can see is his stupid (and annoyingly attractive) face, staring down at you with that dumb backwards cap, telling you that you guys should watch Game of Thrones together. Every time your mind starts to think if that means something, you quickly shut down the thought. Of course it doesn’t mean anything. Just because a boy wants to watch a show with you does not automatically mean he wants you or that this was going to turn into some kind of Netflix and chill situation. Or was this gonna be a Netflix and chill situation? I mean it was Rafe Cameron after all, the boy certainly had a reputation. But then again, hadn’t he just showed you that he’s different from what you had expected? Oh god this was all too much to think about right now, you needed a shot. Stat. 

“Y/N!” Olivia shouts, swinging the door to your room open right on cue. “Oh. My. God. You look so hot!” she exclaims. “Here, this is for you,” she extends a shot glass toward you with a devilish grin. 

“Oh god what is it,” you grimace. Shots always seemed like a better idea in theory than in practice. 

“Try it and find out,” she smirks. You sigh and send the liquid to the back of your throat, immediately cringing at the sting of raspberry vodka, Olivia bringing a cup of cranberry juice to your mouth to chase. 

“Don’t worry love, a few more and you won’t even taste it. Now come on,” she laughs, dragging you with her to the kitchen. The rest of your flatmates are already there, Millie bopping along to the music, giggling at whatever Topper is saying, Rafe standing close by sipping his drink. 

“Y/n you hottie!” Millie cheers, looking up as you make your way into the kitchen. You pray to god your cheeks aren’t turning pink. You don’t dare turn your head, but you know Rafe is staring at you. If you looked at him now you’d be crimson for sure. 

“Alright everybodyyy,” Olivia begins, pouring the same raspberry vodka into the five shot glasses she has lined up on the table. You can’t help but laugh at her infectious energy, this girl is nothing if not the life of the party. 

“Cheers to our first night out as flat mates! Wooo!!!” she exclaims, as everyone grabs a shot glass from the table, Rafe instinctively passing you one, hands briefly touching during the exchange and again as you all clink your glasses. You down the contents, unsure if the heat forming in your chest is from the vodka or the feeling of Rafe’s passing touch. 

Pretty soon people start to arrive, Olivia and Millie making sure to introduce everyone. The flat becomes a blur of bodies drinking, dancing, and mingling about, and somehow, despite it all, Rafe Cameron is the person you find yourself standing with. There was something magnetic about him that you couldn’t quite understand, but it kept drawing you near. 

“What are you drinking tonight Cameron,” you nod at the cup in his hand.

“Jack and coke. Of course,” he scoffs with subtle sarcasm, which you instantly pick up on. 

“Not straight whiskey? Wow. That’s not very Figure 8 of you,” you admonish playfully.

“Straight whiskey? L/n who do you think I am?” he twists his face in mock disbelief. “But I’m game to do a shot if you are,” he adds.

“Hmm that does-“ you begin, but you’re quickly cutoff. 

“Y/n, babe, if I had known you’d be here I would’ve came sooner,” Liam greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a cheeky smile. 

“Now how on earth do you two know each other,” Millie asks, walking in line with the boy.

“Umm,” you chuckle nervously. You could not have possibly felt more awkward at the conversation unfolding in front of you, Rafe standing by as witness to it all. “He’s that boy I went to the bar with the other night,” you explain sheepishly.

“That was Liam!? Chrissake. Well I apologize on his behalf for anything he said or did.”

“Hey I’ll have you know I’m a proper gentleman!” he defends, throwing you a wink as Millie rolls her eyes. Just at that moment, another group of people walk in through the door, conveniently coming to Rafe’s rescue.

“Rafe!” a girl calls and he clears his throat excusing himself, Millie following suit to greet the latest batch of guests. You watch as he leans in for a hug with the girl who’s just called his name. She’s twirling her hair and batting her eyes, confident, flirty, gorgeous - just his type. A sick feeling pools in your stomach, you don’t even realize you’re staring. 

“Lily Colts, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Liam informs you as he takes the now empty spot next to you.

“Oh, um no, I was just uh-“

“It’s okay Y/n, I get it. So flatmate huh” he laughs, unbothered.

“No no it’s not like that at all I uh-”

“Alright. Y/n,” he says, jumping up to sit on the counter behind him, cracking open the can in his hand. “You know I think you’re hot and you know I like messing with you-”

“Actually I know neither of those things,” you reply indignantly. 

“Yes you do, you’re not dim,” he bulldozes right on, “I can read people pretty well, and there was a vibe there.”

“A vibe?”

“Yeah. Between you and what’s-his-face. You should’ve seen the way he tensed up when I came up to you,” he snickers in amusement.

“Shut up. His name is Rafe, by the way, and there was no ‘vibe.’ Also why are you even telling me this?” you ask, growing frustrated with the cocky brunette.

“Y/n please,” he scoffs. “I told you I can read people, so let me read you. You’re out here in London right, far away from home, keen for a fresh start. You’ve never been one for meaningless flings, but fuck it, if everyone else can do it, why not you? Or so you try to convince yourself, but you know that’s not you. See, you crave that emotional connection, and when you find even a hint of it, you’re a goner. Which is why you’d never actually hook up with me and it’s why you’re staring at that boy from home even though you swear you don’t care, but you do - you feel something there.”

You’re dumbfounded by his ability to know things about you that even you yourself can’t recognize. “I liked it better when you were just flirting with me,” you grumble.  

“No worries darling, I’ll definitely still do that. I’ll even dance on you in the club if you ask nicely, might make pretty boy over there jealous,” he motions with his eyes toward Rafe, at which you give his shoulder a shove.

“You’re an idiot you know, Millie was right on the money with that,” you quip, as the two of you head over to her, Liv, and the boys.

“Please, Millie wishes she could be right on something else,” he says as you shoot him a glare, trying your best to suppress a laugh. Liam was starting to become a pain in your ass, too smart for his own good, but at least he was a funny one.

—

Your first night clubbing was going great. The place was packed, the music was good, and you were having a blast dancing with Liv, Millie, and their friends. You couldn’t help looking around the club though, eyes scanning for Rafe in the crowd. He’d been hanging out all night with Topper and some of the guys from their new soccer team. You longed to be near him somehow, to interact with him again. All your conversations with him earlier today had left you with an excited buzz - you didn’t know what it was about this version of Rafe Cameron in London, but you were actually enjoying his company.

You try to push him out of your mind and just enjoy the moment. It’s not like there was anything between you and Rafe, you had just barely began to form a semblance of a potential friendship today, let’s not get carried away. Besides, you live with the boy, accidentally running into him wasn’t going to be much of a challenge. 

“Anyone want anything from the bar?” you shout over the music to your friends.

“Vodka soda with lime please!” Olivia shouts back and you nod, turning to make your way to the counter a few feet away. You place your order and mindlessly tap your fingers on the bar as a figure appears beside you.

“Hey, Y/n right? Flatmates with Olivia, Mills, and the boys?” the girl asks, and you turn, now face to face with Lily. 

“Uh yeah, hey,” you feign a smile back. 

“I’m Lily, nice to meet you,” she smiles genuinely. “I’m friends with all the Westheath bozos you’ve probably been meeting tonight,” she laughs, “Callum and Henry over there are my best mates. They’re on the football team with Rafe and Topper, we were showing them around earlier. My god you guys have been hoarding some cute ones over there in America.”

You chuckle, “glad that Kildare’s presence can at least be of some benefit.” 

“So, girl to girl here, what can you tell me about Rafe Cameron? He’s such a hottie isn’t he? Would love to get a taste of that,” she smirks, licking her lips.

“Umm I don’t really have much to tell,” you say, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. You could tell her what you thought you knew of Outer Banks Rafe - he’s a rich, party-boy player. But after today, that no longer felt right. You didn’t want to say or presume anything about him at all actually, it felt wrong to talk about him like that. God, what the hell was wrong with you? You spend a few hours with the boy and you already have a soft spot for him? You needed to get a grip. “Our families know each other but we don’t really hang out at home. He’s uh- he’s cool though,” you decide as a sufficient response.

“Any girl friend?” she asks, sliding cash over to the bartender as she orders a shot.

“Rafe’s not really the ‘girlfriend-type’,” you answer, bartender sliding you the drinks you ordered and Lily her’s. 

“Well then cheers to that,” she grins, clinking her shot glass to your drink before she downs it, waving a quick goodbye. You watch as she makes her way back to Rafe and their group, adorning a flirty smile. You feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to hate her, you did. But you couldn’t. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was just confident, outgoing, and not afraid to go after what she wanted. There was nothing for you to be angry about, who was stopping you from doing the same?

 But in the back of your mind you decided you could never go after Rafe like that. He would never be interested in you in that way, you were sure of it. You had a hard time believing your friends when they hyped you up, so you definitely weren’t going to believe for a single second that a boy you thought was cool could possibly look at you in the same way. Besides, the mere idea of being rejected by Rafe Cameron, and then having to continue living with him and eventually go back to the Outer Banks for everyone to find out you had been rejected by the kook prince, was so mortifying that the very thought made you want to crawl into a hole. So you promise yourself, right then and there, that you won’t let yourself get hurt like that. You could hang out with Rafe, get to know him, become friends even, but under no circumstances could you be caught wearing your heart on your sleeve. You couldn’t disarm yourself like that and give him the upper hand. You needed to look out for yourself first and foremost, preserving the little bit of control you still had over your life. 

You walk back over to your friends, slipping Liv her drink as her and Jake dance together. Your new friends are all tipsy and in a world of their own, getting lost in the music and their movements.

“Dance with me,” you turn to Liam who’s right beside you.

“I said if you ask nicely,” he admonishes sarcastically, to which you roll your eyes.

“I’m not gonna beg Liam. You wanna dance or not?”

“Sheesh, Lily Colts got your panties in a twist like that?”

“Not. At. All.” You confidently stare into his eyes, sipping your drink. It’s no use, Liam knows you all too well by now, and you curse yourself for the way in which this boy is able to see right through all the walls you put up. You may think these walls are made of brick, but to Liam they’re glass.

He just laughs at you, shaking his head in amusement. He grabs your free hand and pulls you closer to him, your bodies now pressed together. He takes your hand and rests it on the back of his neck, his finding their way to your hips. He plants his leg in between yours and soon you guys are lost in the rhythm. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every second. He spins you around and you lightly grind your ass against him.

“Damn Y/n, I didn’t know you move like that,” he jokes, as you face forward again. He leans in, his hand on the small of your back, and you feel his breath right against your ear, “he’s looking by the way.” Your breath hitches, but you know better than to turn around. Liam is already one step ahead of you, instinctively twirling you again so you can quickly catch a glimpse of Rafe’s eyes on yours without it being obvious. “Told you he’d be jealous,” he smirks down at you triumphantly.

“Shut up,” you reply, the slightest smile tugging at your lips as your sweaty bodies continue to move to the music.

—-

“Aw flatmate bonding you guysss,” Olivia gushes, as you all sit together at a booth. She had forced you all out of your beds this morning to get breakfast together. Despite being hungover and groggy, you all reluctantly agreed. “Mimosas anyone?” she jokes.

“If I so much as smell any alcohol I think I’ll vomit,” Topper groans.

“Aw, what’s the matter, can’t handle your liquor Tops?” Millie asks, quirking her head to the side.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Could ask you the same question. My room is right next to the bathroom, don’t think I didn’t hear your retching last night,” he snaps back, to which Millie turns bright red and soon you’re all hunched over in laughter.

“I think a mimosa would make me yak right now too, to be fair. Coffees all around!” Olivia asserts.

You’re seated across from Rafe as you both scan your menus, your eyes immediately fixing in on the pancakes. The waiter comes by to take all your orders and you can’t help but blush a little when Rafe orders pancakes and you have to follow with a “same for me.” Such a silly, meaningless thing, I mean everyone likes pancakes. But being the only one to have the same exact order as Rafe leaves you feeling embarrassed, for no good reason all the same. You all begin to scarf down your food as soon as it arrives, thankful to have something to soak up the alcohol in your stomachs, as you share stories and laugh about last night’s drunken antics. 

“So how is it that we’re all flatmates and yet I only have Topper’s contact. Come on, add ‘em in,” Rafe says, sliding his unlocked phone to the middle of the table.

“Wait I want snapchats too. Oooh! And instagram!” Olivia pipes, whipping out her phone as well.

“I expect no booty calls Cameron. This is strictly business,” Millie jokes, typing in her and Olivia’s numbers before passing his phone to you. 

“Am I allowed a booty call?” Topper smirks, extending his phone as well.

“I wouldn’t push your luck Thornton,” she smirks back and he pouts in response. You finish typing your name and number into Rafe’s phone and hand it back to him, skin briefly making contact once again. Even though you had known Rafe all your life, somehow you two never had a reason to exchange numbers, only following each other on Instagram which he never posted on anyways.

“Alright everyone, pull up your snapchat codes, I wanna make a group,” Olivia says and everyone obliges, arms crossing every which way as you all add each other. “What should we name our group chat? Ooo can we do a ship name of our schools - like Kilheath or Westare?” 

“I like Kilheath,” Topper chimes in.

“Yeah I bet you do you psychopath. Sounds like the name of a bad horror movie,” Rafe laughs.

“Oooo there’s five of us, we could be the Spice Girls,” Millie beams.

“No.” Topper immediately shuts her down. 

“What about ‘American Boys and Spice Girls.’ You know, like the Kanye West song,” you add.

“Ehh, we’re getting closer, but not quite there,” Rafe teases you and you playfully kick him under the table. “I’m hearing a lot of opinions and not a lot of contributions,” you cross your arms and raise your brows.

“Hey hey hey, I’m a critic, not a chef L/n,” he lifts his hands in surrender.

“Ooo I got it! We can call it the ‘Royal fam,’ like the royal family,” Olivia suggests, finally getting approval from the whole group. Breakfast is soon over and you all return to your rooms, eager to nap away the remainder of your hangovers. You lay in your bed and stare at the newly formed snapchat group on your phone. Royal Fam 🇬🇧🇺🇸 appears on top and you scroll down, looking at Rafe’s username and bitmoji on your screen. You laugh at the fact that even his bitmoji wears a backwards cap. It was weird, having him in your phone like this. You had known this boy your whole life, but you two had always operated in separate spheres. And here he was, in your Snapchat, a glimpse into the life of Rafe, of which you only ever got a birds eye view of back home. It almost felt like you were trespassing somewhere you didn’t belong, having access to him like this. You sigh and lock your phone. Rafe Cameron really isn’t all that bad.

—

The next few days fly by fast as you become acclimated to Westheath. You and the rest of the Kildare kids attend an orientation with Westheath’s exchange advisor, spending the whole time with your little trio: you, Rafe, and Topper. When you had first arrived abroad, you were deadset on forging your own path in London and steering clear of everyone else from OBX. But hanging out with Rafe and Topper made you all but forget. It was fun and easy hanging out with them, in fact, counterintuitively, they were helping you forget all about the Outer Banks, just as you had hoped to do. Your conversations centered around your interests, your new lives, on random jokes and made up bits. It was almost as if there was a mutual unspoken agreement between you, them also trying to escape and forget their lives in OBX.

Pretty soon classes began, and you were learning a new schedule and adapting to British schooling. Your evenings were spent singing and dancing in the kitchen as you, Liv, and Millie simultaneously cooked your dinners, getting pints at the pub around the corner with your Westheath friends, and playing card games at the kitchen table with Rafe and Topper, the smack talk between you three flowing strong. There’d be short moments where you’d find yourself alone with Rafe - he’d explain to you whatever Premier League team was playing that day, you’d show him how the coffee machine works, and the occasional passing comments of “so when are we finally starting Game of Thrones, Cameron?” “I’m ready whenever you are, L/n.”

—

It was a Wednesday night, and you were curled up in your fluffy gray blanket watching Gilmore Girls in bed. You found the show comforting and familiar, the small town of Stars Hallow reminding you of what you wished your life in the Outer Banks could be like. Instead it was more like the cold and pretentious atmosphere of Chilton and the older Gilmores’ Hartford life. Your phone buzzes, and you pick it up lazily to check, suddenly freezing at the notification on your screen.

Snapchat: Rafe Cameron

You had opened a few snapchats from the boy over the past few days, but they were always random ones he would send to the group chat. This one was just for you. You gulp and put your phone down, not wanting to open it too fast. A few minutes go by and you realize you haven’t paid an ounce of attention to the show on your screen, even though you’re staring right at it. Fuck it. You open your phone and tap on the unread snap.

When are we watching Game of Thrones L/n the snapchat says, a picture of his laptop on his bed and the HBO Max home page open, the series featured in the corner of the screen.

You snap back a picture of your blanket and the laptop playing Gilmore Girls in front of you: ready whenever you are Cameron.

Almost immediately you get a response back.

Rafe Cameron: wait are you home rn? His message is accompanied by a random picture of his room, a view you let your eyes linger on until the message expires. Another peak into Rafe Cameron’s world.

Y/n: Yep! You send a blurry selfie of you wrapped in your blanket.

Rafe Cameron: be over in 5

You leave that last message on open and your heart starts to race. Just breathe Y/n, breathe, you keep telling yourself. It doesn’t have to be a big deal if you don’t make it out to be. It’s just a show. Just a show. And besides, you guys are friends now, right? You sit up in your bed and grab your pillow, shifting over to sit horizontally on your mattress. That seems more casual to you, more ‘just a couple friends watching a show together at a comfortable distance’ and less ‘sitting right on top of each other Netflix and chill’. You gulp down some water to ease your dry throat when you hear a gentle knock.

“Come in!” you call out, and now Rafe Cameron is in your room, eyes absorbing all the details that are so you. The posters on one wall, film camera photos on another. The string lights which wrap around your room and give it a warm glow. The plants, the subtle scent of vanilla. The bag you always carried with you, hanging off the side of your chair. He almost felt like he was intruding, like he was getting an intimate glimpse of something that was for your eyes only. 

“Whats up,” he says, holding his laptop and closing the door behind him. 

“Ready to finally start the show,” you laugh, “it’s about damn time.”

“Hey, I’ve been ready, it’s you who’s been taking your sweet time.”

“Is that so?” you ask sarcastically and a smile forms on his face.

“What are you doing over there? Who sits like that on their bed?” he asks, now coming over and taking a seat on your mattress facing vertically, propping your other pillow behind his back. “Can’t even stretch out your legs or anything,” he continues, patting the spot on the bed next to him, signaling for you to come over.

“I don’t know, I think it’s comfy,” you lie as you crawl over to him, your first line of defense already shot down. 

“Weirdo,” he chuckles to which you nudge him in the side with your elbow. “If Topper’s wrong about this I’m gonna give him so much shit,” he says.

“Topper does have a lot of questionable opinions,” you laugh, “but I have a good feeling about this one.

—

One episode turned into two turned into three, you and Rafe instantly hooked. The nerves you had felt earlier at sitting so close next to this boy in your bed had all but dissipated, you quickly acclimating to the space he took up next to you. Even though by now all your previous misconceptions about Rafe had disappeared, replaced with the boy you had come to know over the past week, there was a small part of you that was still waiting to see if he’d try to pull something on you, like the Rafe you imagined back home surely would. Of course he didn’t, watching and discussing the show with you, making you feel as comfortable as if you two had been friends for years. You almost felt bad for having had doubted him in the first place.

When the third episode ended and you two got into a long post-episode discussion, you hardly noticed when the conversation began to digress. You both started to sink lower and lower down into your pillows, until you were both laying on your backs, staring at the ceiling and lost in exchanges of words and thoughts. The conversation was different this time, more candid and open, as if the shadow of the night was inviting you to divulge thoughts you wouldn’t have shared in the day. He spoke of his strained relationship with his father and you shared the silly drama that had caused a riff between you and your former friends back home. He showed you pictures of his dog and you showed him the video you had been working on all summer long in OBX, not having anyone to hang out with before you left for London. He talked about how he felt so disconnected from almost everyone on that island, and you nodded, understanding all too well. The conversation continued to ebb and flow, the occasional funny video or meme pulling you two into fits of laughter before seamlessly delving into another vulnerable train of thought. You both had your Spotify accounts open now, taking turns sharing your favorite songs. You put on a playlist you had made over the summer, full of songs that made you feel at peace. 

“This puts you at ease huh,” he says.

You turn your head to look at him, “how could you tell?”

“I don’t know. I guess just the way your whole body relaxed the second you pressed play,” he replies.

“Yeah,” you say turning your head back toward the ceiling. “I know it sounds cheesy, but I feel like these songs are speaking to my soul or something,” you whisper.

“Yeah I get that… I have those too,” he whispers back. Neither of you realize it’s already 5 am and neither of you notice as your eyes both get heavy and sleep washes over you, playlist in the background like a lullaby. And at some point during your deep sleep, Rafe’s arm has found itself unconsciously wrapped around you.

---

Part 4

a/n: lemme know what you think!(:

[niennanir]

Hurricane Ian did a number on my neighborhood. We had over 24 hours of heavy rain, more than I’ve ever seen from a hurricane in 40 years. Houses a few streets over were under water a couple of inches. We lost a truly distressing amount of grand trees and both of my trees suffered a lot of damage. The storm, technically, didn’t ‘hit’ here and wasn’t forecast to be even half as strong as it was and also didn’t behave in any way it was predicted to which is how you know that what we actually know about meteorology as a science is basically nothing and I’d do well to remember that when these morons start throwing darts at the wall to make their guesses. 

Telling the story of a hurricane is a little like telling the story of a party at which you had probably slightly more alcohol than was good for you and then some bozo roofied your drink. Everything is a blur and when you come back to reality there’s this vague sense of unease because you know things went sideways but you’re 200% unsure exactly how.

I need to regrade my lawn, this became apparent when, about hour nine of the hurricane, my pump and french drain could no longer stay ahead of the water pooling in the low spot of the back yard and water got into my lanai and then into my laundry room and studio.

 It wasn’t a distressing amount of water, except for the distress of having to mop everything three times. I hope it’s three, I haven’t got as far as three yet but everything’s still dirty.

My neighbor, bless his brilliant working class heart, declared that he’d thought of a way to dig some trenches in my lawn to divert the water out to the street and would I be upset if he tore up my grass? Not nearly as upset as I would be if the water got any higher in my house, go for it, ‘A’. He came back 5 minutes later with a 4 wheel drive pickup and spun the tires out the entire length of my yard. There is mud splattered everywhere but A has proven well over that he’s a good guy to have on hand in a crisis because the water started going down immediately.

Shortly after this my generator conked out. 

Somewhere around hour 15 most of the branches blew off my maple tree, A’s tool shed blew down the block and one of the grand trees on the corner blew out by it’s roots, blocking the entire street and also one of the storm drain.

I feel like the folks in charge of our storm sewers maybe need to look at capacity. This wasn’t storm surge. This was flat out more rain than the sewers could handle. The water could have run off, neither the creek nor the canal broke their banks and that means we would have had less damages to both people and plants with better drainage, something to take up with the local government I think.

At about hour twenty two I completely freaked out because that’s when the cell phones went down. The power had been out for a few hours by this point but the idea of not even being able to see where the hurricane currently was and how much longer it planned on hanging around sent me right over the deep end. I’m generally really good with the contingencies but I’m not really good when plans A through G go completely FUBAR. I do not have any ideas for a plan H, I’m currently taking suggestions. 

When the storm finally passed there was water almost knee deep in the street. There were actual schools of minnows in my driveway

My least favorite part of any hurricane isn’t the hurricane, it’s the cleanup after the hurricane. Cleaning up with no electric and way more mud than is healthy isn’t fun. But on the up side I live in an awesome neighborhood and as soon as the wind died down everyone was out starting in on the worst of it. One of A’s kids cleared the small debris from my front lawn and I cleaned out another neighbor’s fridge so it wouldn’t form sentient life. And one of the neighbors farther down the street brought his skid steer down and pulled the tree out of the street and away from the sewer. We do a decent job of looking out for each other. The Pub on the corner didn’t have power but they fired up the gas griddle and made $10 dinners to clear out their fridges before everything spoiled. 

This wasn’t actually the worst storm I’ve ever done. (That was the blizzard of ‘78) It’s not even second place. It was the longest and I found myself at several points wishing for storms more like Hurricane Charlie. It’s been a week and a day, I got electric back last night and internet restored today and right now I’m sitting on my couch in the A/C watching Mythbusters reruns. So I guess I can’t complain.

A few places around town are going to have to work hard to get back to normal, including the Venice Theater.

but we’ll do what we always do. Another week of cleaning and the fundraisers will start. I’m told several groups out of state are already hosting fundraising events for us. I have a list on my fridge of all the things I can do better for next time, so I guess that’s the next step.

[deadweight-at7am]

PTV show

Saturday was the PTV show at the Fillmore. It was a great experience with a few stumbling blocks along the way. The crowd was a really hilarious conglomeration of people who looked like they were going to a rock show and people who looked like they were cosplaying. I don't know how to describe it otherwise. I met up with an internet friend there named Shayla and we waited in line together. It was spitting rain because of the remnants of Ian but luckily not pouring. As soon as we got to the doors it literally started to pour rain, so everyone was getting soaked. Getting in was easy, we all had GA tickets so it was standing room only. I will say, I think I could have dealt with standing room at a different point in my life but my experience with people in the audience were less than fantastic. MOST people were cool and we happened to start talking to a group right behind us of 21 year olds, they were actually really funny. They thought we were their age and I'm like "nah babes I'm 33" and they looked fucking SHOCKED hahaha. The concert was for I Prevail but I wasn't really there for them (as a lot of people weren't) and I have to say the opening acts (Yours Truly & Fit for a King) were really great. As soon as PTV came on they played Noises that May Startle You in Your Sleep and slid right into Hell Above which was PHENOMENAL. Amazing way to start a show. Especially bc Misadventures is my favorite album of theirs. So, they played great songs and also Pass the Nirvana. I felt like I was the only one standing in my area that knew all the words to Pass the Nirvana which was kind of funny and a bit odd but ya girl likes to go off at shows.

The shitty part was that a) huge men who were like 6'2"+ kept squeezing in front of a group of us small women. I feel like men should have better sense than to stand directly in front of women but unfortunately they don't so that kept making us have to inch our way around them. Total bozos. But then once PTV started playing this group of girls who were literally at least 6'3" started backing up and elbowing Greg & I. It got so bad that I though they were going to knock me over and trample me. My safety is important and I'm not going to the hospital for some stupid assholes so, it made me super angry. I started pushing them yelling VERY loudly "GET OFF OF ME" and they refused to even turn around which is how I knew they knew what they were doing and didn't care. I continued to kick the backs of their feet and push the fuck out of them until it got to a point where they were just blocking my view entirely and I couldn't even move. So, I told my crew I needed to move out. I was decently in the middle of the crowd but I wasn't going to be able to do that for another 20 minutes. So, we moved towards the back and stood at the bar where another woman overheard me loudly complaining about how I was about to punch them and she said that she was 2 rows behind the barricade and had to leave because she couldn't breathe people were pushing her so hard.

There are a lot of really young people at these shows who don't know concert etiquette. I didn't care about the pit. I didn't care about moshing. None of that bothers me, I know where it's going to be and I don't get anywhere near it. But the fucking pushing, shoving, being disrespectful and literally standing on someone is fucking out of control. I have a bad temper and I'm like not going to get thrown out of a venue for punching some dumbass in the head. I thought about it though. The guy standing behind us was like "we should just open a pit right here and tear their asses up!" At the end of the day the show was AWESOME. I did stay for some I Prevail songs but their setlist was SEVENTEEN songs, wtf. I also just don't really vibe with them although they did put on a great show and sound very good live. We watched the guitarist from Fit for a King crowd surf while still playing his guitar and then stand on the bar, drink a beer and get back in the crowd and surf back to the front. It was very entertaining. He was super high energy. And one of the dudes from I Prevail spit water into the crowd LMFAO I turned around and said "EVERYONE'S TESTING POSITIVE FOR COVID TONIGHT!" It was funny, we laughed.

At the end it was like 10:30 when we left so we were there for about 4 and 1/2 hours. It was really fun. I admit that I will see them again if they go on a headlining tour. My other friend Michael was at the barricade and caught Tony's guitar pick. He even has a great video of it.

[whatsabriard]

Watch With Me: Hart to Hart 2x05

Original Airdate: December 16, 1980

Synopsis: Jennifer and Jonathan go undercover to identify a toy pla thief who has become a murderer.

Why this one?: We needed a christmas themed episode, any episode that features Drunk!Jennifer is a gem, and the idiots go undercover in the most hilarious way possible.

Favorite Quote:

Jonathan: A little too much christmas cheer? Jennifer: Well, a little too much for 11 o'clock in the morning. Jonathan: I thought that was a pretty terrific gimmick. Buy a tree and get all the grog you can drink free. Jennifer: I dunno. I still prefer my christmas cheer in front of the fireplace. After dark. Jonathan: That's why I come down the chimney every night.

YEAH HE SAID IT.

Right off the bat, I'm gonna tell you I got tired of rehashing the plot. That's boring. Instead you get my stream of consciousness which is more fun for me. Ya'll, not so much maybe. Andway, enjoy this shitpost/recap.

So the Harts are driving home with a whole ass real tree just sitting in the backseat of the Rolls. Can you imagine the sap.

Jennifer is really drunk and slurring her words. How much free grog did she drink.

Instead of going home, they go to a drive-in theater but it's not for the fun stuff, Jonathan needs to see a man about a horse...toy.

Jennifer is disappointed that they're not gonna neck. She doesn't say it but I know it.

Jonathan meets a guy who is a private investigator about toy designs that are being stolen from HARToy.

This horse isn't Randy Racehorse (WHICH IS JONATHAN'S NICKNAME CHANGE MY MIND) it's Pamela Palomino. But Kris knows it's a Breyer horse and they're all crazy.

This guy gets bit by a snake in a toy and his initial reaction is to literally say "DAMN TOYS" at the plastic snake. He dies.

I'm a fan of this outfit and of the fact that Jennifer perches on Jonathan's desk ala Phryne Fisher.

Someone is trying to drive the toy business into the ground by stealing toy designs.

VERNE AND EDNA

Edna, directly inspired by Dolly Parton

This guy's hair.

Robbie the Robot - that was an actual toy wasn't it? No, no. I'm thinking of Alphie.

There is a sound effect of the robot used in this episode and it's so annoying.

The guy with the Bozo hair says he's going to give the Harts everything they wanted for Christmas plus a little more. By that he means a modded Simon game filled with explosives. It's called Do Re Me but everyone knows it's Simon.

What the hell, Jonathan, and your christmas Ascot.

Jennifer gets bored of playing Generic Simon so she goes away, Freeway knocks the table and Generic Simon explodes with about as much firepower as a roman candle.

Like did he think that was going to kill them? what an idiot. Eric of the Bozo Hair is losing his mind.

Jonathan brings a microphone transmitter that Jennifer found in his pocket.

Stanley, the dummy, asks Jennifer what she was doing with her hand in his pocket. She's like "WELL."

"It's my karma. I vibrate in sympathy with the universe." Hard same, Max.

Jonathan loves seeing his name on things. I mean, I get it but.

Bozo Hair Man fusses with the Rolls, which is just an expensive choice. I hope he rigged it better than Generic Simon but also that car is worth more than his house so better not.

OH WAIT I REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS. Yeah, the car is fine. It just....stops running.

So that they can be chased by a model airplane that shoots at them.

Duck Snoopy! It's the Red Baron!

This guy has the wimpiest bombs. It falls right next to the car and it barely goes "pop".

Jonathan defeats the toy plane with a garage clicker which is absolutely GREAT since they don't even have a garage.

They're gonna meet up with Stanley's friend Bob. They say the name "Bob" at least 10 times in a 1 minute conversation

That's because BOB is a LADY.

oh that noise isn't from the stupid robot toy. It's from their swipe badges. It's still stupid annoying.

Jonathan knew Bob was a woman. Jennifer did not. "Well it's Roberta, actually."

Max makes some appetizers but apparently they're gross. They're gonna order pizza instead.

Baby girl, Just sit in his lap. It'll save time.

These jerks color coordinate their outfits.

The "fantastic" Robot shuffles around a table top, talking a big game about all the amazing things he does and then he stops. Big whoop, Robbie.

Bozo Hair Man gets dead. Down the shredder chute.

The Harts are actual monsters that put their tree in the very middle of the living room. why.

They go undercover again, this time with even better outfits.

They actually drink wine on a stakeout. as if jennifer wasn't already drunk enough in this episode.

"Ugh, I left the gun in the toy display section." what an idiot.

Jennifer's skirt is so short, her little ass is hanging out. obvi Jonathan picked it.

the bad guy's partner has a gun and she tries to shoot Jonathan.

That works really well. (also cleavage! jonathan def picked her outfit)

Right before the big ending kiss, Robbie comes to life and shuffles around and says "I can thrill you. All you have to do is press the right button." Then they make out. $5 says Jonathan always finds the right button.