#people fucking confuse the hell out of me

[mapis-putellas]

𝒀𝒐𝒖/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

Alexia barely had time to react before her phone was gone, replaced by the weight of you settling into her lap. She blinked up at you, brows furrowing in confusion as you shoved your phone in her face. She took one look at the screen and smirked.

Her fingers settled on your waist. “Ah. Lo viste.”

You were already flushed, warmth creeping up your neck as you resisted the urge to throw your phone across the room. “Of course I saw it! What the hell, Alexia?”

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “¿Qué?”

Your glare deepened, but she wasn’t fazed. She was enjoying this, the amusement twinkling in her eyes as her hands squeezed your hips.

“Don’t ‘qué’ me, baby. Do you know how many people are losing their minds over this?.”

Her smirk widened. “¿Incluyéndote?”

You groaned, dropping your forehead against her shoulder. “I hate you.”

She chuckled, her arms wrapping around you, fingers trailing teasingly along your spine. “No lo haces.”

You did. Right now, at least. Because that stupid ad -those stupid abs, the definition of every muscle, the way her ‘fuck me’ eyes burned into the camera like she knew exactly what she was doing- was going to be the death of you.

Lifting your head, you grabbed her face between your hands, forcing her to look at you. “You’re not allowed to be this hot. It’s illegal.”

She laughed, warm and low, the sound vibrating against your chest from where it was pressed flush against her own. “No puedo evitarlo.”

You groaned again, hands sliding to the back of her neck. “I should make you delete it.”

Her own hands slid up your sides, just beneath the edge of your shirt, slow and deliberate. “Nike no estará feliz con eso.”

You huffed, pressing your forehead to hers. “I’m gonna need you to wear a shirt. Forever.”

She grinned. “¿Celosa?”

You pulled back just enough to glare at her again. “Obviously.”

Her thumb traced soft circles against your back, her smirk softening into something fonder. “Solo importas tú.”

Your resolve crumbled immediately. She knew it, too, because she took the opportunity to flip you onto the couch, settling between your legs, her weight pressing you down just enough to make you breathless.

“Alexia,” you warned, but your hands were already threading through her hair.

Her lips brushed your jaw, her smirk returning. “Dime lo otra vez.”

You swallowed hard, your body betraying you as warmth pooled low in your stomach.

She chuckled, her mouth moving lower. “Eso pensé.”

Your breath hitched as Alexia’s lips ghosted over your throat, her weight keeping you pinned beneath her. She was smug about it too -you could feel it in the way she smiled against your skin, in the teasing drag of her fingers down your ribs.

“Baby,” you tried, but it came out weaker than you intended, more of a breath than a word.

Alexia hummed, tilting her head to nip at the spot just beneath your jaw, the one she knew made you shiver. “Mmm?”

Your fingers tightened in her hair, tugging just enough to make her look at you. Her eyes were still burning with that same intensity, the one from the ad, the one that had you storming out here in the first place.

“This isn’t fair,” you huffed, but you still pulled her closer, your legs wrapping around her waist and squeezing tightly.

Her smirk softened, the sharp edges giving way to something more affectionate. “¿No?”

You shook your head. “No.”

She dipped down, brushing her nose against yours. “Entonces…¿qué quieres?”

You exhaled sharply. She knew exactly what you wanted. She just wanted to hear you say it.

“You,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Her lips barely grazed yours. “Siempre soy tuya.”

And then she kissed you -slow, deep, like she had all the time in the world. Like she wanted to erase any trace of jealousy or frustration you had over that stupid ad and remind you that, at the end of the day, she was yours. Your hands slid under her shirt, tracing the toned muscles that had driven you insane just moments ago. She shivered under your touch, her breath hitching as she melted further into you.

You grinned, dragging your nails lightly down her back just to hear the quiet gasp she let out. “Mmm, maybe I shouldn’t be so mad after all,” you murmured against her lips.

Alexia chuckled, kissing you again, her body pressing you deeper into the couch. “Sabía que te gustaría.”

You huffed out a laugh, even as she kissed you again, stealing the breath right from your lungs. “That’s not the point, baby.”

Alexia hummed, clearly not paying attention, her hands slipping beneath your shirt, fingers pressing into the warm skin of your waist.

“Alexia,” you tried again, dragging her name out in warning.

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her expression frustratingly innocent. “Sí, amor?”

You narrowed your eyes, ignoring the way your stomach flipped at the pet name. “You let the entire world see you like that before me.”

Her lips twitched. “Eres mi esposa. You see me every day.”

“That’s not the same!”

She arched a brow, a knowing glint in her eyes. “¿No?”

You groaned -because of course she was right- dropping your head back against the couch. “I hate you.”

Alexia laughed as she leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your throat. “No, you don’t.”

You sighed, tilting your head slightly to give her better access. “No, I don’t,” you admitted, your fingers tangling in her hair again. “But I do hate that now half the world wants you, and I can’t even fight them all off because they’re right.”

Alexia pulled back just enough to smirk at you. “You think I look good?”

You deadpanned. “Are you stupid?

Her smirk widened, and she pressed another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Di lo otra vez.”

You refused to give her the satisfaction of an answer, instead choosing to drag her down into another kiss, your hands tightening in her hair. She melted into you immediately, her body molding perfectly against yours like it was made to be there. Her tongue grazed filthily against the roof of your mouth as she all but devoured you, and you groaned quietly as you tightened your legs around her waist, lifting your hips in an attempt at getting some relief.

That was all it took for Alexia to,scoop you up into her arms, hands cupping your ass and squeezing as she carried you through to the bedroom.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

[michuga]

dream encounter

you meet the man of your dreams. literally.

pairing: jeongguk x reader

warnings: swearing, 18+ content, usage of violent terms, reader is hoooornyyy

wc: ~3k

a/n: inspired by personal experience. i'm still grieving.

you stumble into a dark alleyway, lips locked with another's. coming up for air, you inspect the man practically attached to you.

tall, buff, tattooed, smooookin'. lips plumper than ripe berries and eyes brighter than stars in a pitch black night sky.

god damn.

no time to think.

you grab him by the collar and devour him anew.

you tangle your hands in his soft locks, and he impatiently gropes the flesh of your ass. sighing into the kiss, you rub against his hard bulge.

you have never been so content. truthfully, you can keep going just like this for a few hours, minimum.

"need you," you mumble.

swiftly turning you around, he pins you against the wall. you're sandwiched between the wall and his firm body, pressing against your core just right.

hot breath against your ear, he whispers behind you, "make pretty noises for me, beautiful."

with you distracted, he sneaks an arm across your waist and dips it into your panties.

right as his fingers brush your lower belly and reach where you need him most desperately,

you wake up.

and you scream.

loud.

"jesus did someone die?" your roommate busts into your room, frantic and concerned as ever. "what the hell is the matter with you?"

in silent defeat, you grab your pillow and smash it against your face.

sighing and no longer concerned for your wellbeing, she leaves your room confused but somewhat used to your antics.

rubbing your legs together, you almost cry under your covers. guess your fingers will have to do, yet again.

"you do not understand. that was my fucking soulmate."

"a guy your brain made up touches you once and he's your soulmate?"

"shut up. you literally don't get it. i am so utterly devastated i could kill someone."

"you know what really is devastating? being in a dry spell so severe your brain has to resort to making up hallucinations."

"you have 3 seconds to run before i kill you."

"the only way you'll be killing me is with your delusion. i think i'm good."

"it's not funny! i saw his face, i physically felt his hands! this was like, cosmic. otherworldly. life-changing."

"you mean panty-changing."

"you dare mock my feelings? i woke up and felt like someone ripped my heart out and stomped on it. like my other half was ripped from my hands. like we were connected in a past life. like-"

she snorts, "yeah, connected by divine pussy."

"i'm mourning. i'm mourning and you're laughing."

"mourning!!" she laughs in disbelief, "you sound like you just got dumped by casper the horny ghost."

"i swear to god-" you chase her around the apartment for a solid 15 minutes after that.

two weeks have passed since your.. very realistic dream.

you've forgotten about it, but you could feel it in your body that your brain chemistry was altered. people may think you're exaggerating, but you really mean it when you say you haven't been the same ever since.

food doesn’t taste right. music doesn’t hit the same. the sun? dimmer. the first sip of hot coffee on a chilly morning? slightly colder.

maybe your roommate was right. maybe you're simply too touch deprived.

god, this is sad.

as you finish adding the last few things on your grocery list to your cart, you turn around to head to checkout. until you accidentally bump into someone.

"sorry! sorry!" you blurt, immediately bending down to help the stranger pick up what he dropped.

"shit, no worries," he says, crouching down to help you.

and that's when you see it; his tattooed hand.

what is it with you and tattooed men? the universe must really be torturing you. this was like dangling candy in front of a child then snatching it away, knowing you were never gonna give it to them in the first place. cruel.

"you really don't have to, it's fine," he adds.

wait.. that voice? sounds familiar?

you slowly, slowly stand up, heart pounding in your chest, finally meeting the stranger's eyes.

your soul leaves your body. your eyes damn near pop out of their sockets.

you stand there silent, like a damn fool. smiling awkwardly, he takes his stuff and walks away.

you don’t move. you don’t breathe. was this… was this another hallucination? are you so horny that your brain has started projecting men into real life like some kind of thirst-induced hologram?

you slap yourself once. no, surely not.

you slap yourself again. nope. pain is real. surely you’re not that mentally unwell. right? right? you had your mental issues but you were certain none came with hallucinations.

peeking over at checkout, you see him there, bagging his items like it’s just another tuesday. then he leaves, disappearing out the automatic doors. just like that.

you’re frozen, gripping your bag of frozen blueberries like it’s the only thing anchoring you to reality.

he's real. this has to be some cosmic joke.

"babe, life isn't a k-drama," your roommate says, voice dripping with sarcasm as she flops onto the couch, completely dismissing your very real emotional crisis. "listen. i know how you feel. dry spells are no joke."

you facepalm.

"no, really!" she continues, undeterred. "one time i went 3 months without dick thought i started having revelations from the heavens above."

you glare at her. "cut your shit, i'm serious! he was real and he looked exactly the same as the dream. maybe slightly taller and definitely hotter, but it was him."

she raises an eyebrow, not even trying to hide her amusement. "so, let me get this straight." she leans in, finally entertaining your story for a minute.

"you mean to tell me that you experienced textbook soulmate-ism; seeing a complete stranger in a dream and then accidentally bumping into him a few weeks later? that you’ve met in a past life, or that your souls are like, intertwined in some deeply meaningful, cosmic way? a destined interaction?" she mocks as she wiggles her fingers, mimicking magic.

she wiggles her fingers dramatically, mimicking magic, and you groan so loud it echoes.

turning on your heel, you storm back toward your room. you don't know why you even bothered to begin with.

"wait, wait!" she calls after you, cackling. "you know, taehyung's not dating anyone right now. want me to send you his number?"

you ignore her, marching faster.

"ooo, since you're psychic now, can you tell me my grade on tomorrow's test? or what my mom's cooking for lunch today?" she adds, trailing behind you like an annoying toddler.

you slam the door in her face so hard the hinges rattle.

serves her right.

you are going to kill your roommate.

one, for not believing you.

and two, for dragging you to a club where taehyung conveniently happened to be, and her only informing you as you were literally walking in.

he's not bad by any means, not at all. in fact, he's got the whole package. good looks, charismatic, talented and has men and women tripping over themselves for his attention.

your point is proven when you immediately spot him speaking to three women. you're no body language expert, but five more minutes of him entertaining them and they're gonna pounce on him.

you're just.. not interested.

you had met before at one of your roommate's work outings. you chatted for a bit, shared a drink. it took you, what? an hour? maybe less, to realize that friends were all you could ever be. the chemistry just wasn't there.

you don't actually hate your roommate for it, you know she just wants you to be happy. you're just irritated because you're so horny. and the only relief you've gotten in the past two years was your recent sex dream. that one touch was enough to send you spiraling into madness. she was right, dry spells really are no joke.

after 20 minutes of forced small talk, fake smiling, and one or maybe two shots later, you excuse yourself to the bathroom; thankful for any relief from this endless and agonizing night. horny and bored out of your mind do not go well together.

in front of the mirror, you stare at your reflection. get it together.

you fix your hair, touch up your makeup, and give yourself a little pep talk.

tonight this ends. you’re not walking out of here empty-handed.

be it taehyung or literally anyone else, someone is coming home with you. no more of this pathetic nonsense. your fingers deserve a break. so do your batteries.

as you dry your hands and exit the bathroom, you almost trip. before you faceplant into the floor, firm hands grab your waist, steading you.

you sigh in relief. a broken ankle definitely meant no dick tonight. you were that desperate.

"easy there," a voice says, rich and smooth like velvet and honey. sugar, spice and everything nice.

oh, no. no. no. no.

cosmic joke? this is a full on prank.

your guy, yet again.

at this point, you're convinced you're either in a simulation or someone is filming this for a prank show. whoever was controlling your character needed to grant you some reprieve. some grace, please!

he’s smiling down at you, eyes glinting with amusement. "are you ever gonna say anything?" he teases. "so far you've just ogled me and stayed completely silent. have we met before?"

your brain short-circuits. the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a dreamy and borderline pathetic sigh, "yes, we have."

"we have?" he asks, brows knit together in confusion, head tilting slightly.

"i think i'd remember you," he adds as he grins. that smug, boyish kind of grin.

your heart is doing somersaults, but your brain kicks in just in time. shaking your head quickly, you wave it off like you didn’t just sound like a lovesick creep.

"sorry, no we haven't." you force out a chuckle. "must have misheard."

idiot, idiot, idiot.

he laughs softly, extending his hand, "jeongguk. nice to meet you."

you take his hand, trying not to combust from the electricity that shoots up your arm. instant sparks. "sorry for being a freak. you just... reminded me of someone."

his eyes twinkle. "all good memories, i hope?"

you laugh, nerves making it come out a little breathy.

"thank you for saving me."

you internally cringe at your choice of words. throwing yourself off the nearest bridge would be less painful than this.

'thank you for saving me?' what is this, a disney movie? It’s not like he pulled you from a burning building.

he chuckles, unfazed, and waves it off like it’s no big deal. "see you around, then."

walking away, yet again, he leaves you burning up and in awe.

many drinks later, you end up on the dancefloor, your roommate, god knows where, doing god knows what with god knows who. you've learned not to ask.

you dance (the testosterone) your heart out. you close your eyes and you let go for the first time that night.

swaying your hips, you feel a hand slide around your waist from behind, firm and confident. a spark shoots through you, electrifying every nerve. you're caught off guard, but you don’t stop.

leaning into the touch, your body instinctively recognizes the connection. the hand tightens slightly, fingers splaying against your hipbone, guiding you in perfect sync with the music. the warmth of a chest presses against your back, and your skin prickles with electricity.

you turn your head slightly, stealing a glance at the stranger behind you. but when your eyes catch his—your breath hitches in your throat. all words die right then and there. futile devices.

turning around to face him, you throw your arms around his neck, pressing your body dangerously close to his. instinctively, he makes a home for his hands on your hips, and like an intruder, makes way for a muscular thigh right in between yours.

"i think you're gonna kill me." he murmurs, his voice low and laced with lazy lust.

looking up at him, you're unable to hide the need that kisses every delicate feature on your face. eyes twinkling, lips slightly agape, eyebrows knit.

you can’t take much more of this.

without thinking, your hand finds his, and you tug him toward the edge of the dance floor. he follows without hesitation, his grip firm, a clear indicator of impatience rivaling yours.

stumbling out of the club, the night air hits your skin like a slap. pure whiplash to your practically scorching hot skin. a giggling mess, your hands tangle with your hot dream man's.

as he calls for a cab, you stand behind him. emboldened by the alcohol and adrenaline, you rise on your tiptoes and press your lips to his neck; inhaling the scent of sweat and cologne. oh how you've missed that smell.

his breath hitches, but he doesn’t stop you.

minutes pass. no cabs. no patience.

without a word, he grabs your wrist, his touch sending another jolt through you, and pulls you into a dark alley.

holy.

shit.

holy shit?

before you can process it, his lips are on yours, hot and demanding. you moan into his mouth, equal parts pleasure and relief. your dark days are behind you. the curse has been broken, your dry spell is finally over.

his hands find your waist as you press into him, mouths moving like you’ve done this a hundred times before. then, with a swift motion, he spins you around, your front hitting the cool, rough wall. his body is a furnace against yours, hands exploring like a man starved.

you can take a wild guess what happened next. only this time, there was nothing to wake you up.

maybe you'll become a psychic medium for a living.

a few months later, you and jeongguk start officially dating.

it was nice to finally put a name to the face.

one lazy sunday afternoon, you're both sprawled on the couch, his head resting in your lap as you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair. the soft hum of a movie plays in the background, but neither of you is really paying attention.

"you know i had a dream about you before i met you?" you blurt out, your voice casual but your heart racing the moment the words leave your mouth. sometimes you really are the very cause of your own demise.

jeongguk's eyes snap open, and he tilts his head to look up at you, a curious smile tugging at his lips. "come again?"

instantly regretting your admission, you try to brush it off, waving your hand dismissively as you shift, attempting to slide out from under him. "oh, it's nothing. forget i said anything."

"no, no. get back here," he chuckles, sitting up quickly and grabbing you by the waist before you can make your escape. with surprising ease, he spins you around, pulling you onto his lap.

"finish that thought," he says, his voice low and teasing, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"nothankyou!" you squeal, trying to wriggle free from his grasp and attempt to escape once more, but he’s stronger, and it's far too late now.

laughing, he hoists you up and throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing as he gets up; trapping you in bicep jail.

"jeongguk! put me down!" you whine, your fists playfully pounding against his back as you kick your legs in protest. "let me oooouuutt!"

"i will," he says, taking slow, exaggerated steps toward the kitchen, "once you spill."

"fine, fine!" you huff dramatically. "put me down before my head explodes!"

he finally sets you down gently, but not without keeping his hands on your hips, his gaze locked onto yours with an expectant grin.

"well," you start, biting your bottom lip, "before i bumped into you that one time at the grocery store, i had a dream about you. and, uh… you looked exactly the same."

his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and for a moment, he’s silent. then, a wide grin spreads across his face. "that is the craziest thing you've ever said. and you say some pretty crazy shit, might i add." he leans in closer, fully invested. "what kind of dream?"

you feel your cheeks heat up, turning beet red as you avert your gaze.

"baby...?" he draws out the word, his tone laced with playful curiosity. his fingers start poking your sides, making you squirm and giggle. "what kind of dream?"

"well, what do you think?" you yelp, your embarrassment reaching new heights as you cover your face with your hands. you find yourself wishing once more the earth would swallow you whole.

still confused, he racks his brain for a few moments before it finally dawns on him.

and then, laughter erupts. hearty and unrestrained, gradually making his whole body shake. "so that's why you were so weird back then?"

"gee, thanks!" you shoot back, rolling your eyes, though you can’t help but laugh along with him.

"am i wrong?" he teases, raising an eyebrow. "you had your mouth open like a fish. i was half expecting a fly to stumble right into your mouth."

"you've made your pointtt," you groan, dragging out the last word dramatically. "it's not every day you meet the man from your wet dreams, so yes, forgive me if i was a little tongue-tied."

crossing your arms, you try to look annoyed, but your smile gives you away.

"oh, i'll knock that attitude out of you," he grins mischievously.

before you can react, he scoops you up again and walks you over to the couch, dramatically plopping you down with exaggerated care. you squeal, laughing uncontrollably as he pins you beneath him, his face hovering inches from yours. you immediately regret your life decisions.

you never believed dreams came true.

but you are so, so thankful this one did.

taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @dollyunjinz

[babybearnation]

hopefully i worded this well 😖🤞

landoscar plan anonymous valentines gifts for reader thinking he would recognize their handwritings and overall the vibes of the gifts but reader always oblivious when someone likes him thinks the gifts are from someone else then lando and oscar desperately drop hints reader still adorably clueless

don't worry this is well worded! plus i really love this idea!

established!landoscar x gn!reader

lando and oscar are obsessed with you even more than they are obsessed with each other

they got together after silverstone 2023, and even though they're really happy together, they can't help but feel like a you-shaped void exists

you've worked at mclaren since 2020, so you're really close with lando, but when oscar arrived, you found yourself falling for him as well

but unfortunately for lando & oscar, you're really oblivious and didn't even know that they were a couple until they told you directly

you're happy for them, obviously, but you do feel a littte bit upset and/or jealous and you have to walk away and go calm down the second you can do so without it being weird

with valentine's day occurring during the middle of pre-season testing and preparations, lando and oscar set about making a plan on how to seduce you

lando buys you 10 gifts

oscar buys you 10 gifts

they buy you 5 gifts together

hell, oscar even convinces lando to work together on writing a love letter in case the gifts dont work (altho they are stupidly optimistic that they will)

they start planting the gifts around for you

you receive jewellery you've wanted for ages and stylish clothes that you mentioned ideally owning one day from lando

from oscar, you get hard to find sweets/snacks and things that pertain to whatever your hobby is

overall you're really starting to feel doted and loved upon

and you know the gifts are from two different people - the handwriting tells you as much - but you don't know who

even though the handwriting feels familiar, you don't investigate into it

you do excitedly tell lando and oscar all about it though which makes both of them suffer on the inside

when they realise you truly are that oblivious, they decide to start dropping hints

mentioning the next gift mere minutes before you'll find it

well, oscar is doing that. lando is telling you what the gift is as you find it

and yet, you still remain confused and oblivious as to who could be giving you all these gifts

lando snaps first, obviously, and marches over to you with the last present (a box of chocolates because valentine's day!!!) and the love letter he wrote with oscar

he hands them both to you with an insistent huff

"these are from me and oscar. just like everything else was."

he then storms off, leaving you alone with the final gift & the letter

you open the gift before reading the letter and you feel so guilty that you didn't recognise their handwriting and didn't notice all the signs they were trying to send

you read the letter two to three times before you start crying and you run from your work space to go and find them, tears streaming down your face

when you find them, you apologise for being oblivious and stupid and you confess your feelings and ask them to be your boyfriends

oscar doesn't give a fuck about the confession tbh, he just wants you to a) stop crying and b) never call yourself stupid ever again

lando meanwhile is not so patiently waiting for oscar to move the fuck out of the way so he can kiss you

yeah, you go home that day absolutely loved up and smothered in kisses from lando & oscar!

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[connorsui]

A little prompt if you're interested in the idea:

Imagine suggesting to Sylus "hay, why don't we go to an amusement park?" and instead of buying the tickets (and maybe bribing staff into turning cameras off for the day), what does this man do? He rents/buys the whole amusement park (OUR FAVORITE ONE BTW) so we are the only customers that day and is confused by our "BRO, WHAT?!" reaction.

Did he get your favorite park wrong? Would you prefer another? Should he just get EVERY ONE (thats good anyway) just in case? Would that make you happy?

In truth, you're just confused as fuck cause, THIS WAS NOT WHAT YOU MEANT (you're not gonna complain though, especially after its already been done). You just wanted a nice day out with your boyfriend. See what rides he liked. And ngl, you're kinda overwhelmed by this supposedly "simple" act of affection cause, again, ITS A WHOLE DAMN PARK DOES HE REALLY HAVE THIS MUCH MONEY HOW THE HELL DID HE EVEN DO THIS!! Like, you're happy of course. He's always so sweet and thoughtful (*cough* stalker *cough* *cough*) of you but you're still overwhelmed by this.

Like, how does this work? Are you only ever gonna be the only customers here now or is it gonna run like normal when you aren't here and be all yours when you are? Would it really be right to just accept this? Should you ask him to sell it back? How are you even supposed to react to this?

This can end however you want it to. You don't have to do this, I honestly just thought you might like the idea when I thought of it. I hope you least liked reading it.

IF IM INTERESSTEDDDDDD!?!?!?? 😭😭🩷🩷🩷

My luv you had me intrigued...infact I was overjoyed at the instances of having sylus at the amusement park but also having him BUY THE WHOLE PLACE FOR A DAYYY!?

I'm sorry but as someone who is in love with fairs and carnivals I would actually enjoy a whole day by myself to indulge on the rides and greasy foods without having to wait for other people to get some aswell

Overpriced ice creams? Cotton candy that's larger than my head? ..OH LAWD IM RENAMING THE PARK AFTER ME 🤡🤣🤣

Here's the fic I hope you enjoy it! ✨️✨️: Unlimited Access

[ohmybueckers]

Never Strangers: Chapter Three

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: binge drinking, I think that’s it???

Authors Note: heyyyyy guys. Sorry this chapter took a hot second to come out and sorry it’s a lot more filler than other chapters - a LOT more was supposed to happen in this one, but I realized I could cut them into two and get this one posted faster. Which means 1. chapter four will come out a lot quicker than this one did and 2. it will be a lot more exciting than this one (based on the ending you can see why). anyways xoxo enjoy!

“No fucking way!”

Brooke braced herself on our kitchen counter, examined my phone like she had never seen one before. I was very aware of the fact my behead was still intact and I hadn’t even washed my face this morning, but I knew Brooke would classify this as an emergency that needed attending to ASAP.

“There’s no way,” I groan, wondering how my mission of avoiding Paige and all feelings associated with her at all cost had blown up in my face less than twenty four hours after getting here. “How does she even know?”

Brooke looked equally puzzled, her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowing before her posture straightened comically fast like a puppet. She shouted, “Adria!”

I was still confused, now even more so. “What?”

“Her story from last night must have gotten to KK, which somehow made it to Paige.”

In recent years I have become what my friends have lovingly referred to as “chronically offline” - it had to have at least been 2 days since I had opened Instagram, and I certainly didn’t follow the younger girl last night. Safe to say I had zero clue what she was referring to. “What story?”

Brooke grabbed her phone from the kitchen countertop, typing quickly before shoving her phone back in my face. Sure enough, Brooke and I were the stars of the story, both holding our glasses and wearing big smiles (certainly a symptom of the cheap wine). How Adria managed to find my account to tag me, I was not sure. All I knew is that Paige most likely saw it, and that a shameful part of me was at least a little happy that I looked good in the photo.

There was certainly no erasing Paige’s memory, so this text was mine to tackle. “Alright, how do I even respond to this?”

From the way Brooke looked at me, you would think I just suggested transferring again. “Respond? You’re kidding, right?”

I shrug, not exactly enthused by the idea of interacting with Paige on my first full day, but not enjoying the alternative either. “I mean, she knows now. It’s kinda rude to not say anything, isn’t it?”

“What’s rude is talking to a girl as if she’s your girlfriend, treating her like your girlfriend, and then disappearing out of nowhere and lying to her about it. You know exactly why she’s trying to hit you up again,” Brooke grabs my shoulder with care, a gesture I leaned into, “If she thinks you’re easy enough to let her in again, you gotta show her she’s dead wrong.”

My mind felt like it was destroying itself trying to figure out the truth. Part of me wanted to listen to Brooke, who had never once led me astray in her advice and had enough experience with fuck boys to know how they tick - even if the fuckboy in question was actually a girl. Everything she was saying matched the image I had built up about Paige in my head for years. 

Once my heartbreak molded into anger, it became a hell of a lot easier to get over Paige, at least enough to date other people at Minnesota. Anger became comfortable for me - except the occasional nights I spent alone in my dorm, looking back at old photos I couldn’t bring myself to delete permanently from my ICloud. Nights where I wondered if I actually had it all wrong, and if somehow I let myself get too comfortable hating Paige to consider any alternative to what was my truth. Was it pathetic to hold on to a grudge from over three years ago? I really didn’t know sometimes. 

I shut my phone off, reassuring Brooke that I was not going to fall back into Paige, which she seemed to accept fairly easily. Brooke ultimately just wants what’s best for me, and the last thing I wanted was for her to spend her last year at UConn worried about me. She had the LSAT to focus on, not my situation with my ex.

Which is why I conveniently forgot to inform her when I decided to respond to Paige that night, waiting until the sun had set and nearly twenty four hours had passed before sending a simple “yes”, throwing my phone on my bed and taking a long shower before I could decide I made a grave mistake. 

———-

The first day of classes came quick, which I was thankful for - there’s only so much time a girl can spend in her poorly air conditioned apartment, and it’s not like Storrs had that much going on when school was not in session. What I was not thankful for was my packed Monday schedule, starting with an 8am economics lecture that I wouldn’t have taken if it wasn’t the last one available to satisfy a requirement, and ending with general chemistry (again, would not take if I didn’t need to squeeze a science credit in). 

If my 3 alarms weren’t enough to wake me up, I could rely on the sun blazing through my apartment at 5:30AM. After making a mental note to finally order some curtains, my full morning routine commenced, the one I saved for special occasions (or for when I simply could not fall back asleep): 20 minutes of pilates, followed by a citrus scented shower, a full makeup routine, and styling my nearly black hair in loose curls. 

By 7:30 I was ready to begin my walk to the business school, smoothing out my floral sundress and hoping it would instill some confidence in me. I would probably lean back into wearing jeans within the next week, but I still had some belief in my mom’s insistence that dressing well on any first day or impression mattered. I guess it did make me feel pretty, in a “belongs more on a Hollister catalogue than a college campus” kinda way. The dress did not fix the way my my first day nerves seemed to wreak havoc on my body, causing me to barely shove a protein bar down my throat before my body decided that was all the breakfast it could handle.

If I were still in Minnesota, my walk to classes would have been a whole lot louder. It was not often I had a commute where I didn’t curse the incompetence of Minnesota drivers. This was not the case in Storrs, partially because there were no drivers. Aside from the shuttle that passed me as I turned onto Alumni Drive, the only sound to accompany me was Beyoncé serenading me through my headphones. While Minnesota was simply a college with a large city unrelated to it, it was evident that Storrs would be almost nonexistent without UConn - if Minnesota was a city school, this felt almost like summer camp in comparison.

 I didn’t know exactly what to make of it yet, but I promised myself I would keep an open mind. I had to. There was no turning back now. 

———-

The day ended up being just as exhausting as I anticipated, potentially even more so. I’m used to liking first days. The idea of a new start each semester usually feels exciting, but this time I may have bit off more than I can chew. Syllabus week at Minnesota was a breeze, my calendar filled with classes where we just went over standard course expectations followed by frat parties I pretended to have interest in. The second my economics professor began lecturing after covering the syllabus for a measly 10 minutes, I knew he did not roll that way.

I genuinely have no idea how I made it through my high school schedule every day: multiple AP classes, followed by an afternoon job tutoring middle schoolers, with mock trial practice shortly after. It’s a miracle I found time to actually have a social life. Clearly my stamina had depleted severely, as by the time I stepped into my history discussion (seriously, who holds discussion when there isn’t anything to discuss yet), I had already made an emergency stop for coffee and was contemplating whether it was possible to take a nap in my thirty minute passing period before my chemistry lecture.

I made quick stop in the bathroom to fix my mascara and ensure the concealer under my eyes wasn’t crumbling (it was). Leave it to a hot September day and a bathroom with yellow tinted lighting to deplete my confidence: my once voluminous curls fell flat to my face, frizz accumulating at the roots. My concealer which had been matched to fit my warm skin tone now made me appear sallow, and my eyes were not fooling anyone - I was truly, undoubtedly tired. Not much I could do at this point other than use a generous amount of travel size dry shampoo, wipe the remnants of my mascara from under my eyes, and hope that the lighting in my discussion wasn’t as harsh.

I stepped into the classroom and was quickly overwhelmed by the size of it - not because it was too big, but because it was intimately tiny. I had been comfortable in my two previous classes, the large lecture halls allowing me to fade a little into anonymity - just another body struggling to stay awake as my professor explains the importance of studying economic law in the most monotonous tone possible. Looking at the long fake wood table and the twelve chairs, four of which were filled, I realized my streak of avoiding introductions had ended. 

After a quick scan, I chose to set my stuff down next to the person who scared me the least: a tall girl with pin straight long black hair, dressed in black baggy cargo pants and an oversized SZA shirt, complete with silver rings on her fingers which were currently in use scrolling her laptop. I offered a customary closed mouth smile as I sat down and set my book bag down on the table. 

There was a short pause where the only sound to hit my ears was the hum of the far too harsh overhead lighting as I took out my laptop, before I heard a deep voice ask, “long day, huh?”

As I turned to face the girl and processed her statement, it was evident that my attempt at looking put together was no longer working, especially now that the humidity had done a number on my hair. To be fair, I did feel like I was about to crash. “Tell me about it,” I replied, face flushed. I began to wonder if I should have sat next to the frat boy who was scrolling on UConn’s barstool account instead.

Maybe she took pity on how embarrassed I looked, because the smirk was erased from her tanned face and was replaced by a look of sympathy. “Hey, I don’t blame you. My 8AM econ lecture was brutal.”

The gears turned in my brain before I realized just what she had said. “Wait, which econ class?” After the taller girl recited a number from the schedule on her lock screen, I grinned. “We’re in the same lecture!”

“I cannot believe he would teach that much content on the first day.” She rolled her brown eyes, “Ok, let me guess. History and economics classes, leather planner… you’re pre-law, aren’t you?”

I mean, she technically wasn’t completely wrong. “Yes?”

“Then why haven’t I seen you try out for mock trial?” She asked, a perfectly shaped brow raised high and the Colgate smile smirk returning to her face. Her voice was low and teasing - definitely the flirty personality type. I could recognize it all too well.

Not wanting to explain my long and complicated history with the organization, I settled for the easy answer. “I just transferred here.”

“Well, we’ll be at the org fair if you want to sign up for a tryout spot,” She smiled, “Just tell them that Alex sent you.”

“Going to take a wild guess here and assume you’re Alex,” I quipped, though I will admit the effort did bring a small smile to my face. “I’m Maya.”

“See! I can already tell you’re clever enough for us,” Alex joked, a ring clad hand bracing her head on the table as she stared at me. I noticed the way she scanned me, her eyes falling down to the v neck of my dress before tracing back up to my smile. I suddenly felt the need to smooth out the bottom of my dress against my legs, my hands feeling very sweaty. 

 Before I could respond, the TA announced the start of the period, and both of our heads turned to the front. The rest of discussion was spent typing notes on when my paper was due and what constitutes academic dishonesty, all while trying to ignore the way the girl next to me kept shooting looks my way.

————

The one benefit of my packed Monday/Wednesday schedule was that my weekend was essentially four days long. I had two classes on Thursday, both criminally early, but it meant that I was done by noon and ready to enjoy a few days with nothing on my agenda… at least once I finished all of my assignments my professors had mercilessly assigned on the first week. 

A groan left my lips for what had to have been the third time in ten minutes as my eyes squinted to make out my general chemistry textbook. I had read the same paragraph around 5 times now, and each time I seemed to understand it less. Even though Adria invited me to study with her on the patio of her favorite coffee shop, I was sure she was about to tell me to leave. “I don’t know how I did AP Chem in high school, this is like a whole other language to me now.”

Adria laughed, looking up from her organic chemistry book (the contents of which I’m pretty sure would give me an aneurysm). “Not a STEM girl?”

“Definitely not a STEM girl,” I shook my head, unsure why the version of me who picked her schedule over the summer decided taking a notorious weed out course was a great idea. Taking a quick sip of my matcha, I added, “But I don’t know if I’m necessarily a law girl either. Been a real pain trying to figure it all out.”

“You will, I promise. Besides, I can always tutor you,” Adria reassured me softly, a gesture that would be a lot sweeter if there wasn’t a tiny voice in the back of my head nagging me for needing a pep talk from someone so much younger than me. If Adria can have everything figured out, why can’t I? “Enjoying UConn so far though?”

“Yeah, it’s been okay! I’ve met some nice people in my classes,” I think about how Alex quickly spotted me yesterday morning in lecture and gestured to have me sit with her and her mock trial friends. Turns out sitting through an 8AM lecture on law and economics was a lot easier when you had a friend next to you. “I think Brooke wants to go to bars this weekend though, and I just know the lines are going to be awful.”

Adria lit up at this. “There’s a party being thrown by members of the mens basketball team tomorrow - someone basically rented out Huskies. I got access to one over the summer and it was a ton of fun - you should come!” 

My mouth opened, trying to form a response. On one hand, it’s not like I had any concrete plans yet, and staying in on the first weekend after classes just felt wrong. But the words basketball rung in my ears like an unwelcome echo. Brooke’s warning that Paige was everywhere on campus rung true already, already overhearing her name in conversations more times than I could count. Seeing her and possibly talking to her? That was a whole other ball game, one that I weren’t sure I was ready to play. It wasn’t even necessarily that I wasn’t over her yet, but rather that we hadn’t spoken beyond a couple of short text exchanges in years (the most recent of which Paige hadn’t even responded to). Running into her was bound to be awkward, and I was determined to avoid the discomfort.

“Oh Adria, I don’t know…”

Adria cut me off, her voice insistent and almost desperate. “Please come. Brooke usually ends up leaving with some guy and I don’t want to be alone. All of my other friends can’t come, they have to be dry for sorority rush.”

I scoffed, though there’s no bite as I joke, “So you’re saying I’m your last option?”

“I’m saying I saved the best for last,” Adria gave a sheepish shrug. “If it helps change your mind at all, the women’s team won’t be there. KK said they were all going to Ted’s.”

I knew that there was no point of basing my choices at UConn based on whether or not I could run into Paige, but I would be lying if I said the reassurance wasn’t helpful. “I guess I could be convinced.” 

Adria clapped, her smile big enough that agreeing already felt like the correct decision. “You won’t regret it, I promise. Pregame at yours?”

————

If there’s one thing I learned after two years going to college in the midwest, it’s how to throw a damn good pregame.

I felt the bass of my music from my JBL speaker course through my body as I set a shot glass back down on the faux granite countertop, wincing as the cheap tequila flowed down my throat. Brooke, Adria, and Brooke’s friend Marley stared at me, a mix of both amazement and slight concern on their face. On nights out, I have been known to pregame heavy, especially nights where I don’t know most people there. For one, it means I spend less money, plus it gives me some much needed extroversion to make it through the night. 

“Damn girl, I did not know you could drink like that,” Brooke whistled, sipping on her High Noon tenderly. Her and Marley had other plans for the night, some frat event. Brooke claimed the only reason she would be caught dead at a frat as a senior is because Marley’s boyfriend was the president and so they got special treatment, but I had my suspicions she might have a frat crush of her own. 

I felt the buzz as the four of us left our apartment, Adria and I running to catch our bus in order to avoid the thirty minute walk. In my alcohol induced giddiness, I noted how the sky faded from a bright blue into a mosaic of purples, pinks and yellows as the sun set over the lush trees. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adria’s phone face me as I gripped the pole, looking out the window of our bus with the amazement of a kid in a candy store. I had spent the past week unsure of what to make of Storrs, but it felt almost romanticized in this moment.

Unfortunately, the picturesque moment did not carry into Huskies, an establishment that was far more of a restaurant than a true bar. A tennis game played over the TV, paired with the speakers blasting Drake as we were surrounded by a sea of girls with bleach and tones and Princess Polly crop tops. The basketball players seemed almost allergic to mingling with their invitees: aside from one or two attempting to chat up one of the girls, they all stood at their own table sipping beers and looking like they would rather be anywhere else. 

Adria ordered us drinks as I snagged us a table. Soon enough we stood side by side, sipping on Captain Morgan and Coke and a tequila sunrise respectively, unsure of what to make of what we were seeing. “It was a lot more exciting over the summer, I swear,” Adria looked apologetic, “Maybe it’s just one of those things where we have to get drunker?”

I was making a mental note to take two Tylenol before bed for the sake of my tomorrow morning self when a man’s voice emerged from the crowd. 

“Adria, you made it!” A pale man with floppy brown hair and impossibly long legs emerged, grin on his face as he wrapped Adria in a side hug. She returned the hug and the smile while brushing a braid away from her face, though hers seemed more forced. She finally pulled away when he began rubbing her arm, her face lighting up upon making eye contact with me.

“This is my friend Maya, she just transferred here.”

He grinned, reaching a hand out to shake hers with a firm grip. “Hey, I’m Noah. You made a good choice!” 

“He plays for the team, I think he might be a bit biased,” Adria remarks, earning her a shocked look from her friend who quickly turned his attention away from me and onto her.

“Me and some of the guys were going to play some darts, you wanna be my partner? I’m sure we can find a partner for Maya as well,” Noah gestures to me without turning his head, as though I am an afterthought. While it’s not like I’m dying to play drinking games with a group of NBA hopefuls, it wouldn’t hurt to at least act like I’m there.

Adria clearly did not want to play as well, as she stuttered out some half-assed excuse. “I think we’ll stay here! Don’t want to risk, um, losing this table.”

Losing this table? Looks like I also needed to make a note to teach Adria how to lie. It was beyond obvious that Noah wasn’t buying it, but I guess  he was choosing not to be confrontational. With a cough, he replied. “Right, um, well I’ll catch up with you later tonight then!”

The second he was well out of earshot (not that far, considering the volume they were playing Passionfruit at), my interrogation began. “Who was that?”

Adria looked down at her drink, looking uncharacteristically unconfident. “That was my in to this bar. We met over the summer.”

I nodded, watching as Noah stopped to chat with a mix of guys and girls under the flashing blue and pink lights. “Well I’m pretty sure he wants to get with you.”

“Oh trust me, he’s tried.” Adria deadpanned, evoking a laugh from my glossed lips. “He’s still a good guy, and I like being his friend. But I’m not into him like that.”

“Is it KK?”

Adria bit her bottom lip, and for a moment I feared I had gone too far, like we weren’t quite at the point in our friendship where that wouldn’t be a sensitive subject. I was ready to retract my question when she spoke softly. “We’re not exclusive… at least I don’t think so. I haven’t been with anyone else, but who knows if she has.”

Man, Adria really liked this girl. Some part of me was thankful to give some advice to her for once, although it’s not like my history gives me the authority to give relationship advice. “Have you tried talking to her about it?”

“Absolutely not.” She shook her head, her eyes wide. “I’m way too scared to hear the answer.”

I felt a pang in my chest, relating to that feeling all too well. I’ve always had a tendency to protect my peace too hard, avoid asking questions to escape conflict - through the years, I’ve discovered it almost never ends well. “But do you think you might be hurting yourself more by not knowing?”

Adria took a pause, staring off as Noah and his friends began frat flicking to some song that did not warrant that at all. “I am not drunk enough to think about that right now.” 

We both laughed, silently agreeing to down the remainder of our drinks at the same time. The ice had melted well with the remainder of my sunrise, dulling the burn of the tequila. This was probably a good thing - I’m pretty sure my tolerance was lowered over the summer, because I felt my body get warmer than anticipated despite the air conditioning working overtime. Adria set her drink down on the table, turning to me once more. From the glint in her eye, I knew she was about to return my line of questioning. “What about you? Are you looking to get set up, because I’m sure that’s the reason those guys invited all of us here in the first place.” 

“First of all, I’m gay,” I began, examining the crowd in front of me. “I’ve been here like a week, haven’t really had the time to think about hooking up with anyone.”

“Well, what’s your type?”

I thought for a moment about my (limited) history. “Tall, athletic, nice eyes…”

“Paige.”

I rolled my eyes, though I would be lying if I said the blonde was not included in my thought process. “I mean it, I’m done with her.”

“No, no. Paige. Right over there.”

It felt like my heart plummeted to my ass, the effects of the alcohol consumed unable to keep me cold as a chill rushed through me. Before my brain could tell me not to look, my head snapped to the front. Two girls now stood at the front of the bar, talking to the male players. One girls laugh cut through the crowd, and I saw a small smile erupt in Adria. That must be KK. The girl next to her, hands shoved in the pockets of her cargo pants, didn’t even need to say or do anything. I could tell Paige Bueckers from any crowd.  

---

taglist (open!): @paiges-1vur @unadulteratedcyclepaper

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

This fulfills both my BuckTommy agenda and my Chimney and Tommy are besties agenda. It's Fluffebruary Day Eleven: Double Date! Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary, and you can read this on AO3 over here.

It’s Howie who suggests he and Tommy take their Buckleys out together, and Tommy is happy to go along with it. He and Howie have been occasionally meeting up for a beer or coffee ever since the cruise ship rescue, and they’re currently sitting next to a playground while Jee-Yun goes down the same slide over and over. She lands about four feet from them and waves every time until she runs back to carefully climb the steps back up.

“What are you thinking?” Tommy asks, swirling the last of his coffee in its paper cup to mix it before taking a swig.

“LA County Fair is coming up. You ever go?”

Tommy snorts softly and nods. “Yeah, with Ben.”

“Yeah, fuck that, we’re making new memories,” Howie says, making a face. He’d heard about Tommy’s last serious relationship in all its toxic glory after he’d cornered Tommy in a CVS to ask why the hell he’d been ducking Howie since his and Evan’s (thankfully temporary, then current) break-up. “Just do not tell my daughter, because we’re taking her in a couple weeks and she’s gotta think it’s the first time or she’ll look at me with big, sad eyes.”

“I’ll take it to my grave,” Tommy vows solemnly, and Howie claps him on the shoulder.

They settle back and watch Jee-Yun, happily taking compliments from a couple of other parents and nannies on how sweet their daughter is.

“Yep, we love her, she’s our little angel,” Howie says, putting an arm around Tommy’s shoulders and squeezing.

“Absolutely,” Tommy agrees readily, squeezing Howie’s knee. “Been that way since the day we brought her home.”

“Uncle Tommy!” she shouts, running full-tilt toward them and catching herself on his knees. “Swing?”

“Swing,” he confirms, scooping her up and messily kissing her cheek as she squeals with laughter. “Let’s see if we can get you to go all the way around in a big circle.”

Howie jumps to his feet. “Let’s not do that.”

Tommy turns his own big, sad eyes on Howie as he backs toward the playground. “But Da-ad.”

“Tommaso Gianni, you better not break my daughter.”

Jee-Yun gasps and looks at Tommy. “Uh-oh.”

“First and middle name? I know,” he says gravely. “Okay, we’ll carefully swing.”

She pouts and throws her arms around Tommy’s neck. “Oka-ay.”

He happily pushes her on the swing until Maddie shows up with Evan, both of them having had lunch with their parents. Tommy bites back a grin when he sees the confusion on the faces of the people who’d approached him and Howie as Maddie greets her husband with a kiss.

Evan walks over and waves. “Hey, guys!”

“Uncle Buck!” Jee-Yun shrieks, and Tommy barely has time to catch the chains of the swing to stop it before she launches herself off of it to run to Evan’s waiting arms. He picks her up and kisses her cheeks before settling her on his hip.

He’s listening to her recap about the caterpillar she found when they’d arrived and asking her questions about what it looked like and is in the middle of telling her what kind of moth it’ll probably turn into as he reaches Tommy.

“Hey,” he says, kissing him on the corner of his mouth. “We swinging?”

“Yep, but we’ve been restricted to safe swinging,” Tommy says, and Evan makes a face. “Right? Howie doesn’t know that this girl’s ready to fly.”

“Alright,” Evan says to a captivated Jee-Yun, sitting on the swing. “Here’s how we’re going to do this. You’re gonna hold on real right, okay? And then Uncle Tommy is gonna push as hard as he can.”

She nods and wraps her arms around Evan, and he holds the chain of the swing with one hand and wraps his other arm around her. When he’s settled in, he backs up until he’s almost standing up straight.

“Alright, launching in five, four, three, two, one!”

With that, he pushes off, and Tommy grins when she shrieks with laughter. He pushes them carefully, not wanting to risk Evan losing his grip, but Evan’s pumping his legs to build up a little more height.

“So are you guys poly or—”

The question catches him off-guard, and he looks sheepishly at the nanny who’d been talking to him and Howie earlier.

“No, that’s my boyfriend’s brother-in-law,” he explains. “We were, uh, just messing with people.”

She snorts and shifts the toddler she’s carrying to her other hip. “You guys are going to be the talk of the playground for a couple days. Please don’t clear things up with anyone else, I live for this kind of thing.”

“Uncle Tommy is slacking!” Evan calls over his shoulder.

“Uncle Evan can chill,” Tommy says, stepping back into position.

When they’re ready to hop off, Evan dramatically “jumps” as the swing is coming to a stop, and Maddie comes over to offer her daughter a bag of pretzel chips and some water.

“What’s this I hear about a double date?” she asks, plucking two pretzel chips out of the bag and handing one to each of them.

“Yep,” Tommy says, popping the snack into his mouth. “Tomorrow, actually. Details to follow.”

He gives a meaningful glance down to Jee-Yun, who’s looking up at them as she sips her water. Later, when they’re in Evan’s Jeep and away from little ears, Tommy asks him how he feels about the fair.

“Oh, man, I am so winning you a bear,” Evan says, grinning.

“Uh, I think I’m going to be winning a bear for you.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“I’m one half of the organizing party, it’s my responsibility—”

“To buy me a funnel cake and hold my hand on—actually, no, no ferris wheel.”

Tommy shudders. “Yeah, nothing that, uh, leaves the ground.”

They bicker about who’s responsible for winning stuffed animals for who all the way back to the loft.

–

His last trip to the fair really had been a disaster. Ben had complained about the price of food, Tommy had ignored every attempt at initiating conversation about them attending Ben’s high school reunion, and they’d ended the night in silence and with headaches.

This time, Maddie is six months pregnant and devouring every bit of fair food she can get her hands on, Howie has had three different face painting artists have a go at him and now looks like Spider-Man/Darth Maul/a butterfly depending on which third of his face you’re looking at, and Evan is carrying a stuffed puppy under one arm and has a weird monkey puppet looped around his neck. Tommy has a pink bear the size of Jee-Yun under his arm, and he feels like he’s going to be sick if he eats anything else that’s been fried.

“Alright, funhouse, funhouse, funhouse,” Evan chants.

“Absolutely not,” Maddie says around a fried Oreo. “But you guys enjoy yourselves.”

They hand off their stuffed prizes to Maddie and Howie and run into the funhouse. It’s very old and mostly full of spinning platforms and moving walkways and some mirrors, and Evan has them stop and take a picture in every single one. After, they spot the haunted house and manage to entice Howie and Maddie into joining them on that one because it involves sitting down.

It’s so much goddamn fun. Howie and Tommy hang back while Maddie and Evan try to do a game that involves rubber ducks, both of them sipping on overpriced beer.

“You know, Maddie told me they never went to a fair when they were kids,” Howie says. “Danny was too sick, then everything after. Isn’t that wild?”

Tommy knows he means that it’s something else and nods. “Means we should probably take them every year to make up for it.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

They clink their plastic cups together and exchange grins.

“State fair up in Sac when the kids are old enough,” Howie decides. “Or if we can get a babysitter for the weekend.”

“I know a cheap pilot.”

“Oh, don’t call yourself that, honey,” Howie coos, pinching his cheek.

“Stop flirting with my boyfriend,” Evan says, pressing a small, squishy dinosaur against Tommy’s chest. “Your move, Kinard.”

Maddie hands a Minion dressed like a pirate to Howie. “Meet your son.”

“Howard, Jr,” he sighs, petting its goggled eye happily. “Who wants to go scare the shit out of the person running that thing where you swing a hammer to hit a bell? I’m pretty sure they’ll cry when they see these two muscle-bound freaks.”

By the end of the night, they’re tired and all leaning against each other and carrying more stuffed animals than any four adults should ever own. The big, floppy elephant that Evan is hauling is Tommy’s personal favorite. He also has a tote bag over each shoulder with crafts, trinkets, snacks, and random spice and tea blends from vendors.

“We should do a Ren Faire,” Evan suggests.

“Oh, my god, Jee as a little squire or a princess,” Maddie whines, burying her face in her stuffed shark. “Honey, please.”

“Yeah, alright,” Howie says, leaning in to kiss her hair. She’s already got grease paint smudged on it and her face from him, so she’d stopped batting him away hours ago.

They get to Howie and Maddie’s car, since paying for parking twice had sounded like a terrible idea, and they get a ride back to Tommy’s house.

“We’re the fucking kings of double dates,” Howie says, reaching back to bump Tommy’s fist before they get out of the car. “But maybe just dinner and a movie next time.”

“Go big or go home, Han.” He swoops in for a kiss to Maddie’s cheek and climbs out of the back seat, joining Evan in gathering their prizes from the back of the car. “Alright, let’s get them settled into the guest room.”

They arrange their prizes on the bed and Tommy takes a picture of the frankly ridiculous army they amassed, though there’s one more soldier on his side than Evan’s thanks to that game where you shoot water into a hole to win a horse race. They’d been so close to winning a bear as big as Maddie, but he’s a little glad they didn’t. He doesn’t even know where he’s going to keep all of these and imagines the toy drive will be getting a sizable stuffed toy donation once he lets their friends’ kids pick out a favorite to adopt.

The elephant and bear are staying with them, though.

[novacorpsrecruit]

@skidspace thank you for sharing this lovely piece!!! Oh my god this is so good!!!

Context: missing scene from part 3 of this

———

Hello! I was the anon that mentioned writing an extra scene involving Trick. I ended up adding more to it as I started writing and editing. Again I’m not much of an author so I apologize for any mistakes or confusing parts but I hope you enjoy!

Thanks again for the wonderful story that inspired this

~~~~~~

Steve had to wipe his eyes before he dared to leave the bathroom.

Eddie’s letter was… a lot to take in. He’d be lying if he said the apology didn’t feel good. Hell he’s been yearning for one ever since that last night he saw Eddie.

Even so, it didn’t make that initial hurt go away. Nothing had. Not the time away, not the idea of moving on. Nothing could fill the chasm that used to be filled with Eddie’s love. To know that Eddie was hurting to? It didn’t make him feel any better.

After what Steve deemed enough time to compose himself and not look like a total wreck in front of the customers, he carefully folded the letter back into his apron and left the bathroom. He must’ve been in there longer than he thought because Trick’s booth was now empty.

Steve sighed and thought to himself, he’s still on the clock so he might as well actually do his job. And went to go clear off the table.

As he stacked the dishes and cup a with practiced ease, Steve noticed something amongst the mess. It was a napkin with the words “Rock on, Steve!” written in the corner, and crudely drawn doodle of a hand making the devil horns sign in black ink. Next to the napkin were a few crumpled bills and some change, plenty to cover the cost of Trick’s meal and a tip.

Steve felt his eyes start to well up again. Dammit, he can’t handle this much emotional whiplash in just one 5-hour shift. First Eddie’s letter and now a guy he honestly thought hated his guys was taking the time to apologize and be genuinely kind to him.

Steve set the dishes back on the table and just stared at the napkin note, but he was taken out of his spiral by a loud “Are you kidding me?!” coming from the front of the diner followed by the sound of someone slapping glass.

He peaked around the corner of the booth only to see none other than Trick staring at the ancient pinball machine they kept in the waiting area like it had just insulted his mother.

Steve however, couldn’t help but laugh, which caused Trick to finally break eye contact with the offending contraption and whip his head around. At first, he had a nasty scowl on his face that Steve was SURE many a jock at Tricks own high school had experienced. But once he saw that it was Steve and realized the laugh wasn’t a mocking one, his scowl turned into a cheeky smirk with too much teeth showing, but was friendly nonetheless.

He turned and fully faced Steve.

“Your machine is busted, dude.” He said, slapping the glass top of the pinball machine once again.

“I don’t know man,” Steve surprised himself with how easy he found a joke tone to his words, “I’ve seen a few 10 year olds absolutely destroy the high score on that thing. I think this is just a user issue.”

“Oh fuck off.” Trick’s smile grew wider with the jest, only to be followed by someone loudly clearing their throat. Steve and Trick both turned their heads to see Jenny with her arms crossed and brows furrowed, gaze pinned on Trick.

The other man’s face fell from jovial to a harden nonchalance. Steve recognized the change all too well from when people would give Eddie a hard time in public back home. Like Eddie, the shift in Trick looked well-practiced.

Trick put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and cleared his throat, looking back at Steve once more. “I should probably get going, but uh- could I ask you something first?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Is Eddie doing okay?”

Steve felt a pit form in his stomach at the question. He really didn’t want to air out everything that happened between him and Eddie with a guy he had JUST gotten on friendly terms with.

“W-what do you mean?” He settled on.

Trick gestured up towards his face.

“It’s just that no one has seen him at a party since the night he rocked my shiiii-“ his eyes flick over to where Jenny was still glaring, “I mean, since he called me out for how we were treating you.”

“I, um,” Steve’s hand reflexively went to the letter in his apron, “I don’t really know. I haven’t seen him in…a while.”

Something in how Steve had said that must’ve tipped Trick off to the situation, even just a little. His face took on a concerned look.

“Oh. Well, if you see him or talk to him soon, can you tell him I’m sorry?”

“For what?”

“For driving him away too. Even without the whole ‘boyfriend thing’, for people like us - people like Eddie - it’s hard to find a place that will accept you for who you are, let alone make you feel welcomed. We shouldn’t have made him feel like he had to be one thing or that he had to hide an important part of his life.”

Steve was silent , standing there contemplating the potential of all that might have happened to Eddie since he walked out of their apartment and never came back. Putting the pieces he had together, it seemed that Eddie had not only punched one of his cool new metal friends for Steve’s sake, but had completely stopped hanging out with his all of his cool new metal friends after they bad mouthed Steve to Eddie’s face. Steve was always under the impression that Eddie had known about the ridicule Trick and his friends subjected him to. But he either just didn’t know the severity of it all, or he didn’t care enough to come to Steve’s defense.

Steve was starting to think that was wrong.

Why didn’t Eddie say any of this in his letter? Would it have made the situation better? Would Steve have believed him if he hasn’t just had this whole eye opening apology and conversation with Trick?

The thought threatened to tip his emotions over the edge again so he shook his head a bit, desperate to clear his thoughts

He finally replied, “I’ll tell him.”

Some of Trick’s toothy smile retuned to his face. “Thanks Steve.” He then threw up the devil horns with his right hand and turned to leave.

As he walked away, Trick turned his head one last time to say “I get it if you don’t wanna come back, but I hope I’ll see you around.”

The bell above the door jingled as it was opened, then closed, and then Trick was gone.

-

Steve had to take a few deep breathes before he went back and finished clearing out the booth. Upon returning to behind the counter, Jenny slid up to him with her arms crossed again.

“God, I thought he’d never leave. That guy didn’t give you a hard time, did he?”

Steve didn’t mean to, but a bitter tone slips into his voice.

“No, Jenny. He didn’t.”

Jenny huffed.

“Good, cuz you never know with those types. They always look like they’re gonna-“

“Just because he looks mean and scary doesn’t mean that’s how he really is! You can’t just judge people like that Jenny!” Steve snapped and instantly felt bad for it. The wide-eyed look Jenny was giving him only made it worse.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“No, you’re right. I mean, yeah the yelling was a little rude, but I shouldn’t judge someone just by how they look or dress,” Jenny shrugged, “I mean just look at Rob. He dresses like a dorky pencil pusher who wouldn’t hurt a fly but you and I both know he packs the meanest left hook when the day drunks get too handsy.”

Steve couldn’t help but let out a loud belly laugh at that. God, he really does love working a shift with Jenny.

-

Steve normally took the bus back to Robin’s dorm after work, but the weather was nice enough and his head was full enough that he decided he needed the walk. There were just too many things that happened today he had to work through.

First there was Eddie’s letter and apology, then Trick’s appearance and apology. Those two things alone were enough for one day. But there was also something else. Something Trick said combine with how he acted, how others had acted towards him, that Steve couldn’t get out of his mind.

“For people like Eddie, it’s hard to find a place that accepts you for who you are, let alone makes you feel welcomed.”

Now Steve knew that most of the crowds he ran with back in Hawkins couldn’t be counted as good friends. But he never entered a group of people and felt unwelcomed. He didn’t have people scoff at him or shuffle away when he entered a room. The only time he felt truly ostracized in high school was the time between Billy Hargrove showing up and meeting Robin after graduation. And even then he may not have been welcomed in his old social circles, but when he walked into a room his presence was at least accepted. After graduation most people he knew stopped caring about the petty high school bullshit anyway, save for Billy himself and a select few of his crownies. He had real friends by then. And eventually, he had Eddie.

Eddie who had always been the one that people would stare at like he was going to sacrifice their dogs to Satan at any minute.

Eddie who knew that there wasn’t a place for outcasts like him, so he MADE a place where other kids could feel safe.

Steve thought back on that first day walking into school after Billy had fully deposed him from his title of King Steve. He had felt hundreds of eyes on him as he walked down the hallway, but at the same time he had never felt more alone.

Steve now wondered if that was the feeling Eddie had dealt with his whole life while living in Hawkins.

The idea made him feel…different about Eddie’s actions these past couple months.

Of course, those actions still caused hurt. And after many late-night tearful discussions with Robin, Steve knew he didn’t deserve to be treated that way, that he had deserved better.

But…

But maybe Eddie hadn’t done it because he was ashamed of Steve, or because he didn’t care about how Steve felt.

Maybe…maybe Eddie just couldn’t believe he had found a place that welcomed him because of who he was, not despite it.

He had told Steve as much about their own relationship after they started officially dating. Eddie joked that he couldn’t believe his interests and quirks were what Steve called positives instead of dealbreakers. Steve had laughed along with him at the time. Now the thought broke his heart.

Steve was tired of things breaking his heart. He was tired of licking his wounds, and he was tired of hiding in Robin’s dorm.

Steve had changed his mind about walking. He located the nearest bus stop.

After all, his and Eddie’s apartment was on the other side of town.

Steve had a letter he needed to respond to in person.

[stellarboystyles]

a/n: ahhhh chapter two girlies!!!!!

“I think that last tequila shot fucked me.”

“Or the last twelve tequila shots.” Josie laughs. “I stopped after two.”

“And that’s why you’re the sensible one.” Shay groans, pushing the sunglasses up onto her face. “And I’m the tornado.”

Shay and Josie’s attention turned to see who was coming down the stairs, preparing themselves to channel their inner kiss ass if it was Emerson coming down those stairs.

“What’s up guys.”

Two sighs of relief were made as Aly’s feet shuffled across the kitchen floor.

“I was gonna make pancakes.” Josie answers. “Seriously, this house needs hangover food.”

“I agree.” Shay lays her head on the island counter. “A breakfast sandwich is the only thing that’ll prevent me from yaking all over the floor right now.”

“Coming right up, your majesty.” Josie snickers.

“This place is disgusting.” Aly leans her head back in agony before tackling all the plastic cups scattered in the living room.

“Remind me why we throw parties, again.”

“Because college is the only acceptable time in our lives to throw ragers.” Shay mutters. "If we were doing this in two years our families would be holding an intervention.”

“True.”

“Yikes.” Aly cringes at two bodies on the couch. “Someone had fun last night.”

She motions to the couch as she walks by, picking up some of the random cups off the coffee table.

“Who is it?” Shay whispers.

“Cole,” Aly mouths. “And Izzy.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Shay impulsively grabs the water bottle in front of her, taking off for the living room.

“What are you—Shay, don’t!”

Ignoring Josie’s protest, Shay did indeed splash the passed out duo with zero remorse. It did a pretty good job of waking them up, though. Despite what people say, waking someone up with water is oddly satisfying when they deserve it.

“Get out.”

“What the fuck, Shay?!” Cole shrieks, the two immediately standing up in shock of their soaking wet clothes.

“This is Emerson’s place too, which means neither of you are welcome here.” Shay . “Get out before I make you.”

Izzy grabs her phone and rushes out the front door, leaving Cole staring at Shay. He was fuming, probably because he couldn’t hit her.

“None of you even know what really fucking happened between me and Emerson.” Cole snaps. “I loved her—”

“Save the crocodile tears for Emerson. Now get on with that walk of shame like the ten dollar whore that you are.”

Josie’’s jaw was on the floor.

He scoffs before storming out and slamming the door behind him.

“Wow.”

“He needed it.” Shay grumbles.

“What the hell is going on?”

The three heads turn to see Violet had just come downstairs.

“You just missed it, Vi. Shay gave Izzy and Cole a front row seat at SeaWorld.”

Violets face changes from confusion to realization after hearing Aly’s words.

“They slept here? I kicked them out last night.”

“Apparently not—Oh.”

There wasn’t a girl in the house, except for Violet, who’s jaw wasn’t dropped when they saw who came down the stairs next.

Harry fucking Styles.

Now, there are a few things you need to know about Harry. He isn’t just some small town cutie with boy next door energy, he’s hot. Like, next level hot.

“Oh, hey Harry.” Shay greets, trying to dissolve the awkward silence that blanketed the room.

“Hey Shay.” he waves back.

“Ahh, d’you guys want some breakfast?” Josie asks.

“Ah, no. M’just heading out.” Harry steps forward. “See you later, V.”

“Yeah, I’ll walk you out.” Violet nods before turning back to her friends.

We didn’t, she mouths.

Her friends’ reactions are a mix of eye rolls and sexual motions…you can use your imagination.

***

“Let me take you out.”

Violet’s eyebrows raise slightly, a small smile on her face. “For…”

“On a date,” he tries. “For Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, so you’re asking me to be your Valentine?”

“I…Yeah, I guess.” he chuckles, looking down at his shoes. “Yeah, that’s what I’m asking.”

“I’m just kidding.” she laughs. “Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.”

“I’ll pick you up at 6.”

***

“We didn’t.” she repeats.

“You really expect us to believe that? Look at him.”

“Believe what, exactly?”

“That you spent the night with McDreamy and didn’t have sex.”

“Don’t ruin my favorite show for me.”

“We didn’t do anything.” Violet repeats. “Seriously. I was waiting for it, but not one move.”

Josie raises her brows. “You guys didn’t make out or anything?”

“Not even a kiss.” Violet confirms, shaking her head.

“Awhhhh, that’s so sweet. He’s a gentleman.”

“Yeah,” Shay smiles. “He’s probably just waiting ‘till the third date to get in your pants.”

“Shut up.”

[utilitycaster]

(I’m sure you’re getting a lot of asks right now, so if this isn’t a fun avenue for you, feel free to pass on over.)

So, the Vax of it all.

As a person who really loved Vax’s portrayal and his arc, the end of C1 was powerful and poignant. Dalen’s Closet was the perfect cherry on top of a truly bittersweet ending - a really touching way to give the characters some final interactions and show that he didn’t feel trapped or tortured by his duties as a champion. It gave a lovely sense of closure - with the button put on it that Scanlan couldn’t even cast the spell again, so it really reinforced the idea that magic had natural rules and consequences to big asks.

And then C3.

Obviously Vax was always going to factor into this campaign (one of the cast described this as their Avengers Assemble plot, after all), but with the way Matt had him appear and knowing how the rest of the cast was going to react to it, it really seemed like this ending was inevitable.

Considering that she was the bait in the first place, Keyleth was always going to realize where Vax was, always going to draw in the de Rolos to save him, and being familiar with Matt’s DM style (as well as any of us can be) I have a hard time believing he was going to do all that and then steer them towards an ending that would just have left Vax back as a champion - or even dead. Possible, but seemed pretty unlikely. (forgive my ignorance, I’m sure this is exactly what people were saying about Molly’s resurrection too, I wasn’t in the fandom then, but that at least was a DICE roll that concluded on camera, no way around that)

But now I’m just… so confused by so many choices. When did Matt decide this? Did Liam agree? If this was going to be the ending, why did he have the Raven Queen explicitly say ’you have one more night on Exand-- JK, hang out as long as you like, go look up that girlfriend of yours!” Was it JUST so the Vaxleth reunion would be the last scene of the campaign? W h y a n y o f t h i s ? But-- none of those are things we can really know the answers to, of course.

So my REAL question is, how would you have liked to have seen Vax brought into this story? A defender of the Raven Queen, going as far as to oppose Bell’s Hells (gods, can you imagine what the fandom would have done)? Would you have liked him to appear at all?

Btw, I’ve loved following your blog through this campaign - these last handful of episodes, I’ve been checking in daily like it’s my morning paper. Even on the rare occasion I do find my opinion differs, I find your analysis so thorough, so thoughtful and always entertaining. Excited (and maybe a little wary…) to see what we’ll get in C4! I, uh... sorry for the ask-wall-of-text.

So I will admit, I thought, until early in the finale when it became clear this was just the equivalent of the flavorless pure sugar drink they give pregnant people to test glucose tolerance, that Vax would be freed from his duties and laid to rest. The part with champions serving as protectors of the gods' realms honestly hadn't occurred to me but you could have done it with Morrighan (still physically alive) taking on the mantle and Vax passing on to the afterlife. Because the thing was, Vax was dead, the Raven Queen said "you can be alive temporarily as a revenant," and then once his mission was over, he died. He was literally already dead. I also maintain it was not an inevitability from the Orb situation; obviously I have no fucking idea what Matt had in mind, clearly, but in a case where Predathos remains sealed, then the Vax situation remains as it was; and in a case where Predathos is freed and devours the gods I think he dies more horribly vs. a gentle and kind passing (or perhaps some hail Mary scenario where after Predathos has glutted itself and left, he can perform the rites of ascension himself).

I guess the short answer is I really don't think this was inevitable because I think the vast majority of the finale and no small part of the campaign was again just. things happening because they needed to happen to get to the ending where Bells Hells were ostensibly happy (it's not very fulfilling to have everything given to you without it meaning anything), but I can think of a number of ways to run any final scenario re: Predathos and the Raven Queen where Vax doesn't come back. That was a very specific choice, and it was, as many of us have pointed, an immensely stupid one that was utterly unnecessary.

[wilderhyperfoxations]

Chains of Eternity- my biased, terrible little review

This will include spoilers, so you've been warned. Although I like this game (my tumblr and even this post are a testament to that) sometimes things you like can fall short. So, let's get into my various critiques of COE. The start of the story felt pretty strong. I do wish we saw Valen, BECAUSE WHERE IS THAT MAN, but sure, right. I felt like there were too many side characters during the first few quests, and this trend continues through the whole arc. I really liked Faramor… so where the hell did he go? He sort of disappeared without much of an explanation. He had no character development, or it simply wasn't portrayed in a cohesive way. But his VA was very good. Also, controversial, but while I did enjoy Lorsan's cameo- it did not add anything. Same with half the characters this season, they really came out of nowhere, and could have been utilized in a more interesting way. The whole immortality talk also felt unconvincing- sure it's bad but if you're really afraid of death it's a small price to pay, and you'll watch people die even if you're mortal, so… weak argument there. Cyran. God, Cyran, they barely used him, too. Which I really wished they did. Also the King/Duke(?) was kind of barely there. They did nail Yolena and made the ending that much more WHAT THE FUCK. There were some bigger overarching issues, such as: Structural issues, Promise, payoff, Setup, Too much fluff, Pacing, Lore. Structural issues- the story structure did not feel sound nor satisfying due to the lack of promise at the start and the lack of payoff at the end (ex.- in WOI, it's "Merlin wants to leave Rustport, Sinbad wants to be a Captain, Sonja wants to kill her dad" and all of those things come true and make a satisfying story). This is pretty much the same as "setup"- there was not much of that. Too much fluff- too many characters and frivolous parts that I felt could be trimmed. Most characters could be cut out and the story would still work. Pacing- unlike WOI, which felt like it lasted ages, or even the first few storylines that were pretty even, this one was choppy. The start dragged and then the end sprinted. The whole thing whizzed past me and there I was, left befuddled. Lore- confusing! In the story not much is elaborated on, but then in some heart-to-heart's there are comments on why graveborns were made that… actually make no sense, or are unsupported by the wider narrative. How would they improve this? Honestly. Just more editing and more time. This one must've been rushed, or something, because WOI was stellar for any game (and again Sinbad's VA was FIRE, nothing stood out to me this time). And if I were to edit this story, I'd introduce Valka earlier, and give her some clearer goal than just "am sad, don't deserve your praise, blah". State it more clearly that she wishes she could make things right. And the villain, who I neglected to mention- all villains besides the WOI ones have been last-minute. Cryonaia was intimidating, but, she was… not setup. If the story spoke of her earlier, or incorporated her into some legend, her reveal would mean more. Otherwise she's just another hypogean. Also, what was her goal? What was she trying to do? Who the fuck knows. I found her vibe unclear. Tell me if I missed something, but I do doubt I missed anything major. Altogether, if this was a book, I'd give it a 2 or 3 stars for "you tried and you almost got here but your editor must've been drunk and passed out for months or something".

[beef-brisket]

Adam glared at the tall man, who the fuck was this guy? But, judging by the way Lucifer's shaking, he isn't good.

Why can't people leave him the fuck alone?

Lucifer mumbled something only Adam could hear. Whether he intended that or not, it made Adam pissed.

Lucifer: D-Dont talk to him, don't look at him, don't acknowledge him, maybe he'll go away-.

Val: Hey, I'm talking to you, puta~!

Adam growled: Are you hear for a reason, or just to ruin the scenery?

Val glared at Adam, looking him up and down before smirking: Ah, you must be this little midgets care taker! Oh yes, I've heard a lot about you, cutey~.

Adam smiled: All bad things, I hope.

Val: Well, let's just say, Alastor isn't too happy about the beating you gave him.

Adam: Oh, good! Let that be a warning to what could happen to you if you keep nothing Lucifer.

Val laughed: S-Seriously?! Why put so much effort into him?! He's nothing!

Adam: Nothing? Hm, I don't think so. If he was nothing, you and Alastor wouldn't be hell-bent on being the most pathetic, annoying creatures this side of America. And that's fucking saying something. Now, I can't tell you to leave the part because it's a public place, but you better leave him alone, or ill fuck up that face of yours.

Val growed: Oh yeah? Is that a threat?!

Adam : It's a fucking promise. Now, fuck. Off.

Looking between the two, Val smirled: Oh, don't worry, papi~. I'll leave him alone~.

Adam glared as Val walked past, laughing.

After a few minutes, Lucifer slowly popped his head out. Poor guy looked so exhausted already. Adam wanted this to go well, but of course some weird Lilith sympathiser had to fuck it up.

Lucifer: H-He's still here...?

Looking around, Adam clenched his fist when he saw Val leaning against Lucifer's back fence, smiling at them.

He pulled out a phone and started talking. What he said made Lucifer almost have a panic attack.

Val: Oh, he's here alright, Lily. And his dogs with him.

Adam: That's it.

As Adam stood, Lucifer looked up, confused amd scared: A-Adam?! What are you doing?!

Adam: I'm going to kick his ass and have a little talk to your ex~. If anything happens, call out for me, okay? Just try and breathe for me, Lu. I'm not letting them ruin this for you.

Lucifer watched as Adam stormed over to Val, who had a shit eating grin on his face. But that was before Adam punched him square in the nose and ripped his phone from his hand.

Trapped Heart

@beef-brisket

⚠️This deals with Agoraphobia, anxiety, depression, and mentions of domestic abuse ⚠️

-

Adam: Well that's the last of them.

He looked around his new home and smiled, this place was so much better than his last home and a third of the price too.

They were practically giving it away.

There was his lawn mower that was on the truck still.

Adam went out to put it in the garage when he noticed his neighbor, a short blonde man getting his mail from his box. He was better looking than his last neighbor.

Adam waved: Hey!

Lucifer jumped as he grasped his mail, he looked over and saw a handsome brunette standing in the driveway across the road smiling and waving.

Lucifer: O-Oh, hi!

Adam: Names Adam, I just moved in.

Lucifer: N-nice to meet you! I'm Lucifer, I hope you like it here.

He wanted to be polite and welcome his new neighbor right, but he could already feel the cold tendrils of anxiety start to slowly crawl through his skin trying to wrap around him like a vice grip.

How long has he been outside? His heart started to beat a little hard with each moment he's not back in his home. He could die! He's not safe he needs to get back!

Adam: Yeah me too.

By the looks of it he already likes what he sees.

Lucifer nodded, he could feel the tremors starting in his hands the palms getting sweaty.

He needs to go.

Lucifer: I-It was nice to meet you Adam! B-But I need to get going.

Adam: Oh okay, maybe we can hang out sometime?

Lucifer gave a tight smile: Y-yeah.

He waved again to be polite and tried not to run back to his house, his therapist said it was good for him to be out as long as he could stand it.

Pushing himself a little each day. Today him reached his limit.

Once his front door was closed and locked behind relief washed over him, he's safe now nothing can hurt him. He hugged his mail to his chest, he needed to sit down.

Lucifer went over and placed everything on the coffee table. He tried to remember his breathing exercises.

Adam seemed very nice, maybe he'll send Charlie over when she comes to give him a proper greeting.

-

Adam tilted his head as he watched his new neighbor go into his home, if he didn't know any better he would say the man was panicked. Did he do something? He knows his personality can be a little brash at times but he thought he was being polite.

A man that lived beside him came out for his mail as well.

Adam: Hi! Umm, I'm new here.

Alastor: Oh hello! I'm Alastor, I guess that makes us neighbors.

Adam chuckled: Guess so. Umm, if I may ask, is the man that lives there okay? I didn't intend to upset him.

Alastor looked over at Lucifer's home and rolled his eyes.

Alastor: Getting the mail was he? Don't worry about it that man's afraid of his own shadow. I wouldn't waste my time, he never leaves his house.

Well that sounded a little dramatic.

Adam: What?

Alastor leaned on the fence: Oh yeah, Mr. Morgenstern over there never leaves his house. Rumor has it that his wife used to beat the fuck out of him in the home but it was worse when they were in public. Apparently she'd just humiliate him and others would join in making things worse. He was never free of her but at least in the home he could be alone.

Adam was horrified to hear that: Dude, the fuck, is that true?

Alastor shrugged: Not sure. All I know that is true is she left him nearly 8 years ago and he's become some kind of hermit that never leaves the damn house. His daughter Charlie, sweet girl you'll likely meet her, comes over from time to time.

Adam looked over at Lucifer's house, that couldn't all be true right? Maybe some was and the rest is telephone gossip extras?

Him and Alastor parted ways, he had to put everything away in his house. All the while his mind kept going back to the handsome neighbor across the way.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

The plagiarist has a google doc of her works and just denied me access to it since I’ve been watching the updates.

Smfh.

If you’re not doing something shady, you wouldn’t give a fuck that people are watching.

[funkervogt]

(Realizes that the most common transman experiences perfectly align with my life and feelings about myself and fascinations and who I want to be with) Ohhhh Okay i am fucked

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Of my 2% capacity to be attracted to anyone, my type is like 90% women, 5% pretty men and 5% men you would swear are super fucking manly, and never questioned being straight and cis, but are now suddenly *stressed* that they can't figure out why their attraction to me [fully socially interpreted as a woman and labelled that way up until relatively recently] feels incredibly fucking gay

[kingquentin]

insane how quickly something small can tank my mood

[himblebo]

Again again thinking