#say hi to katrina

[milkiestofteas]

[deaddriv]

Translated with permission! Artist on Twitter (@LemonMelon00)

Part 1 / Part 2

[agentbootyreportingforduty]

why is this steve and quinn scene soooo sexy to me for some reason?? sorry i’m having bi panic rn

[nemaliwrites]

Merry Christmas (2024), dir. Sriram Raghavan

[gaveyouigaveyoui]

Castle on the Hill is so under-rated and that and Galway Girl from that era.

YES!! SAY IT!!!

[mifunebooty]

Nosferatu 2024 rocks my balls off

[gu6chan]

man........ i start thinking about my black butler days and a new rp blog of this one comes calling back to me like the devil

[sirfrogsworth]

Clinging to sanity

Summary of this post...

My brain is broken. My A/C is broken. My phone is broken. My computer is broken. My support system is broken. My financial stability is broken. My family is broken.

And the big finale...

Please give Froggie a Yelp review to repair his relationship with his estranged uncles.

Seriously, I need a whole bunch of you to say nice things about me in a convoluted plan to get back the money my brother stole from my dying father.

If you don't feel like reading all of my broken stuff and just want to read about giving me a good review as a person, you can skip to the bullet point list at the end.

Alright, here we go...

I sometimes get in these states where I feel like my sanity is compromised. My mental defenses are minimal and I lose the filter on my brain that tells me "this is a good idea" or "this is a bad idea."

This causes me to say embarrassing things. I overshare with strangers. I keep myself from falling asleep because I have some amazing idea. But when I wake up in the morning I can't believe I lost all of that sleep for such a ridiculous idea. I write weird posts that no one likes. Or I post about controversial subjects like A.I. and trans people and RFK Jr. that I *know* will result in contentious feedback.

And my insane brain says, "You can handle it! Besides, you are so factually correct about this, no one will dare question your meticulous research. IT'S ALL GOOD! SEND IT, YOLO!"

I have a rule. If I am not emotionally or mentally prepared to defend my point of view on a controversial subject, I should wait until I am ready to publish.

Insane Froggie Brain ignores this rule.

After I "send it" and the negative feedback starts to flow in (even though I was assured by my brain it wouldn't), I become afraid to look at messages and replies and reblogs. And a lot of times I need that sense of community. I need to talk to my cool little community so I don't feel lonely. But Insane Froggie Brain cuts me off from that. I give myself all of this anxiety that could have been avoided by just posting another time.

And because I have no emotional defenses, that anxiety is amplified. Mean comments hurt much more. I obsess over them and my OCD causes thought feedback loops where I cannot get something out of my brain. I once couldn't sleep for a weekend because someone said I was wrong about how light reflects off the moon. They were right and I was also right but they said I was "misleading." And that just lived in my brain for days. I kept trying to think of new ways to better explain my point of view. I used up energy I didn't really have to take pictures of a baseball in a dark closet.

It was silly. It didn't matter. It was just a small disagreement. But OCD doesn't do small. OCD makes everything BIG.

What I'm trying to say is...

People need their emotional defenses.

People need their filters.

It's weird because I still have full access to my logical brain. So sane thoughts get all mixed in with the less sane ones. Sometimes I am self aware and can shut down the less sane ideas. Other times I am oblivious. And I *hate* losing control of my brain in any way. It's one of the reasons I've never touched alcohol. Which is why I get very disturbed when this happens.

I remember one time I was positive I was going to move to Florida and start a pet photography business. I had an entire business plan worked out where I trained people how to take the photos so the business could run itself if I got sick. I made an entire PowerPoint presentation to show Katrina so she would be my business partner. I was looking up rent prices for office space. I was making equipment lists for camera gear. She was going on a trip so she told me I could talk to her about it when she returned. And I am so lucky she wasn't available at the time.

Maybe if I had a normal person's energy, I could make something like that work. But once I returned to sanity, I realized it was orders of magnitude more complicated than anything I was actually capable of doing. I am still planning to do pet photography, but I have to come up with a more reasonable plan that does not involve Insane Froggie Brain.

I think it is just my ambitious mind trying to escape. Chronic illness is often heartbreaking because you have to temper all of your ambitions. And it is especially devastating when you are a very ambitious person, as I am.

I want to have all of these big ideas. But I have to filter them through reality. And when that filter is broken, I just unleash big ideas on all my friends. I once even held an official video chat meeting and we took notes and made plans. And I feel so guilty I wasted 4 people's time like that. None of those ideas happened. They had no chance of happening with my energy levels. But my friends and collaborators still did the meeting and nodded along like everything was fine. I appreciate them humoring me.

I also overshare. I overshare normally, but when I get like this I OVER SHARE. You are probably going to witness it in this very post. But I tell everyone everything about what is going on. I tell strangers. I tell a dog walking by.

"Hey doggie, my testosterone is returning and I'm struggling with having a libido again. I know most people would not complain, but it is very disruptive to my day! I have other things I want to do!"

Right now I am just not confident in anything I think or do. I wrote a post about social constructs yesterday. That literally took me all day to write. I was endlessly tweaking it and I thought it was going to be viral and helpful and win the trans debate for everyone.

It currently has 49 notes.

I'm afraid I did not fix trans rights.

Sorry about that.

And my rant about Christopher Nolan using IMAX is doing pretty well. I nerded out about film grain for like 2 paragraphs and it is getting way more notes than a philosophical perspective on constructs.

I just have no idea what people are going to like and I used to be pretty good at judging that. It's like I'm throwing spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks but instead of a wall I'm throwing it into the void. The spaghetti just disappears into infinite darkness.

I'm clearly still recovering from the big house clean with Katrina. And I am more tired than normal. But I am also very stressed about losing the house. I'm trying to figure it out, but I may only have until the end of June before I have to make some scary decisions.

And also, my air conditioner is not working. It has a leaky evaporator. Last year, I had it recharged and that lasted the entire summer. If the leak is leaking at the same rate, I could just do that again. It would be expensive, but replacing the evaporator is so costly, I'd be better off getting a heat pump installed. I'm a good candidate, it could save me money in the long run, but I am nowhere near in a position to make that happen.

Also, my phone is falling apart.

Literally. The only thing keeping it together is the phone case.

And this laptop, which I love, was not meant to be my main computer. I bought it when my dad was sick and I needed something upstairs to manage his prescriptions and bills and appointments. It wasn't meant to be an image editing machine. And, to their credit, Apple has made a crazy powerful little computer. I admit it, I love an Apple product. It can handle way more than expected. But my photo restorations can sometimes end up with 5 gigabyte files. I can't even save them as PSDs. I have to use this weird "PSB" format. It stands for "Photoshop Big." When I fill up the RAM, my computer uses the main SSD. And when I fill that up, I think I can hear the laptop crying and saying, "I wasn't meant for this! Please use fewer layers!"

But I need to finish restoring these photos because I have delayed their completion by about 5 months (got sick before I could finish). And also because I need to pay for the A/C recharge.

You might be thinking, "Didn't you fundraise to get the big fancy powerful computer of your dreams a few years ago? Why don't you use that?"

My big fancy computer has been broken almost since I got it.

It was right before my mom got really sick and there is a major hardware problem. I worked with tech support for over a month and we could not figure out what the issue was. The computer is mostly unusable. Like, "can't even web browse" unusable.

It honestly has caused me so much depression. Like deep, deep, crying-myself-to-sleep-for-weeks depression. I still cry about it. I know it is just a thing, but I am genuinely heartbroken about it.

Why haven't I fixed it? I'm a good computer fixer, right?

Once I had to take care of my parents, I just did not have any extra energy to deal with it. After a month of back-and-forth emails from the manufacturer, I finally told them, "I'm sorry, my parents are sick. I will email you when I have the energy to revisit this."

If you know my story and how I took care of my parents all alone because I have a neglectful brother, then you can probably guess that energy never came.

I am good at tech support. I have been an expert in computers since I was a teenager. I have taken apart and built computers more times than I can count. I have never had a problem this frustrating before. It works fine for a few hours, and then it just progressively slows down to being unusable. I narrowed the issue to either the SSD, the CPU, or the motherboard. All things that are not easy to replace. (The SSD is behind the damn GPU.)

In the 30s, the Royal Air Force used to have issues with their planes that baffled them. This is where the term "gremlin" came from. No matter what they did, no matter how many parts they replaced, they could not get the "gremlin" out of the plane. These were professional mechanics who just could not fix something and it drove them nuts.

I have a computer gremlin. I've never experienced anything like it in all of my years of fixing computers. I was working with professional tech support people. I was on reddit forums. And the only thing left to do was start swapping out parts. I'd work on it maybe an hour each day with whatever energy I had and it eventually was too much. I just could not deal with it. They told me to send it back, but I could not take care of my parents without any access to a computer. So I just rebooted it every time I used it.

At that point, my parents were requiring 24/7 care and I was so overwhelmed that I said, "fuck it" and ordered this laptop. I figured I'd fix the computer when I had time or energy. But that time and energy never came. And I certainly didn't have the energy to haul a 60 pound computer upstairs, box it up, and then take it to UPS. So I just kept putting it off and putting it off.

And I let the warranty expire.

When I realized I did that, I cried myself to sleep for another few weeks. This material object has caused me legitimate emotional trauma.

Any part replacements are now on me. And there isn't really any way of knowing which part is faulty. I figured I'd buy a cheap SSD and start there.

I feel so fucking guilty because people donated money for me to have that machine. I feel like I let them all down by not getting it fixed. When I finish my recovery, I'm hoping I can sort it out. But that could be many months from now.

Recovery has been such a dark, lonely place. Trying to restore my health a millimeter at a time is a grueling marathon of misery. I have been struggling to keep Insane Froggie Brain at bay this entire time.

I felt like I was stuck in a hole.

And like a superhero with the power of friendship and puns, Katrina pulled me out of the giant hole I was in. My house turned into a biohazard. She flew from Florida to essentially clean and organize everything. How do you even begin to thank someone for that?

But also, she shouldn't have had to do that. I have a perfectly functional brother. But he hasn't spoken to me for nearly a year now.

I have other family in town. But I missed so many family gatherings over the years, they don't really know me. None of them have called. I'd have to rebuild those relationships if I want them to be a part of my life again.

And I haven't talked about this yet because it has been too painful.

But... my support system fell apart.

My aunt had to move away to take care of her father-in-law. A year before my mom passed she took care of my grandma as her end-of-life caregiver. And people should only have to do that once. But she has to do it again, and unfortunately, we haven't been able to speak much.

We were very good at keeping in touch in real life. But she is of an older generation and has trouble maintaining relationships on a smartphone. I mean, I get it. Some people are just better at meatspace than cyberspace. That was actually one of the things I liked about our bond. Almost all of my friendships are online. Having someone who liked to visit me and talk to me in person was special.

But, for the time being, I lost that. And it feels a bit like temporarily losing another parent.

I am struggling to even start writing the words for this next part.

I had two best friends. Katrina and I are great. Our friendship is probably better than it has ever been.

But my other best friend of nearly 15 years ghosted me without explanation.

I haven't talked about it because it has been too hard. Any time I try to think about it I get upset. My eyes are filling up with tears as I type this.

I have been pretending like it isn't happening.

Which is not working great.

I've been trying to hire a therapist.

They all have months-long waiting lists.

My friend just stopped talking to me and I don't know why.

They went from driving across the country and holding my hand at my dad's funeral to just not being a part of my life.

I'm so scared I said something terrible or did something terrible. I keep going through all of my memories trying to figure out what I could have done. But we had the kind of friendship where we'd talk about that stuff. If I screw up, they would tell me. We'd work it out.

This person who was in my life nearly every week for over a decade is just not there anymore. I keep losing people and I can't make it stop. And I am really worried that I am leaning on Katrina too much. She went from being part of a multifaceted support system to my entire support system. That isn't fair to her.

She has been very understanding. And she knows I am going to rebuild a support system as soon as I am able. But I don't want to overwhelm her and lose her too.

Weaning off this medication and living with no testosterone has been so miserable and she has been the only one helping me through it.

I'm doing so well with my recovery. I think I can be off the meds in 3 months and hopefully my testosterone will be fully back in range. I'm already more productive than I have been in nearly 8 months.

But I have 1 month of financial runway left and I am not going to get well enough before then.

Everything happens all at once. Every single time. And usually terrible things happen in my life at the same time terrible things happen in Katrina's life. She had terrible mold that destroyed her health for months. Thankfully it did not turn her transphobic, but it sure fucked her health for a while. She made all of this progress getting fit and healthy and BAM, the universe says, "You are doing too well, you need a challenge!"

So, what is my plan?

I am a problem solver and I have some doozies to solve.

Right now I am going to appeal to the family patriarchs on my dad's side. On his literal deathbed, my dad asked his brothers to "take care of me" and I am going to attempt to call in that favor.

I am going to ask them to talk to my brother and hopefully mediate a solution regarding the stolen inheritance. I want them to convince my brother to do the right thing and return the money he took from my dad.

Sorry, the money he "legally inherited" due to his wife "reinterpreting my dad's wishes" in the will.

Before you ask, I have no options to fight this in court. A verbal promise is not enough to overturn a written will. And the cost of fighting would be more than the inheritance. Please don't suggest any legal advice. I've talked to good lawyers. And unless I want to sue for emotional distress, there aren't any legal options available.

The best option is to appeal to my brother personally and ask him to keep his promise to my dad.

The only reason I am in this mess is because my brother repeatedly promised to give me the money. He said he didn't want it on multiple occasions. So all of my plans involved the expectation of this money. I was going to fix up the basement apartment and seek a roommate.

But it took over a year to just get it out of probate. A year I could have used to come up with other solutions. But he waited until the last minute and made his lawyer tell me he was screwing me.

I'm sure my brother will argue my dad knew what he was signing. But I know that is impossible. Before my dad passed, we were in the hospital and I saw the will for the first time. I asked him if it reflected his wishes. And I asked him if he meant to include my brother's wife in the will.

His response was, "Are you fucking kidding me???"

Readers, does that sound like a man that knew what was in his will?

Dad was so upset that he was about to have them cut off his leg just so he could live a few more weeks and fix the will.

You have to give my dad credit, he goes pretty hardcore when it comes to protecting his family.

I couldn't let him go through an amputation to protect me from my brother's shenanigans.

But I am pretty screwed now.

That said, my uncles are pretty hardcore too. One is *very* intimidating. So I feel like my uncles talking to my brother might carry some weight.

But I have one problem...

I mean, aside from the myriad problems already described.

How about... I have one additional problem...

My uncles don't like me very much.

They think I am a basement-dwelling loser who is faking his illness and was taking advantage of his parents for two decades.

One uncle even accused me of stealing from my dad.

They are protective of their brother. They loved my dad. Which is a good thing! As long as I can convince them that their assumptions about me are invalid, I think their love for my dad will compel them to help me.

They just don't have the context. They don't know me. They live in far-off lands. And due to some unfortunate timing, one uncle saw me at one of the lowest points of my life. This was maybe 8 years ago? He didn't realize I was thrown into the deep end and very recently took on the role as full-time caregiver for two very sick people.

My awful strategy at the time was "if I don't take care of myself, I'll have more energy to take care of my parents." If you are a caregiver, this is a bad strategy. It seems obvious you have to do some self care to give care to others, but when you are just starting out, that seems impossible.

My uncle showed up unannounced and I wasn't showered, I hadn't brushed my teeth in a week, and my room had a fun layer of trash on the floor. The trash can was overflowing and I literally did not have the spare energy to change the bag.

To make matters worse, my mom's medications and constant pain had broken the filter in her brain that prevents her from saying mean things. She was on this crazy chemo-like infusion that was basically using poison to fight her psoriatic arthritis. Her aggressive, blunt remarks were not her fault. That wasn't who she was. But she could not stop herself from saying hurtful things.

The kindest woman alive was suddenly Don Rickles without the "just kidding" subtext. And my uncle didn't know this and I got into an argument with my mom.

I probably looked like a pampered brat loser who just lies in bed and plays video games all day while arguing with his saint of a mother.

I don't blame him. Without context, that's exactly what it looked like.

So I am writing my uncles a letter.

It is essentially a memoir of the caregiving I gave to my parents. I hope to publish it publicly at some point, but right now it is just a letter to them. If it were a typical hardcover book, it would be about 70 pages long.

I am telling them everything.

If nothing else, I just need them to know my dad's story. I need them to know he was well taken care of. That I did everything humanly possible to make his last year as comfortable as I could. I need them to know he was *never* alone.

Sadly, because they probably think I am an unreliable narrator, I am my own worst witness. So I am asking 3 people in my current support system to write testimony to verify everything in my memoir is accurate. I even have a doctor's note!

It is probably insane to put this much effort into convincing my uncles to like me. But I'm pretty sure Sane Froggie Brain is behind the wheel of this endeavor. Sometimes the craziest, most desperate idea is the only option left.

Basically I am using my writing skills to try and save my Froggie butt.

I don't mean to be braggadocious, but people perusing my prose persistently pontificate that I am proficient at penning pleasing passages.

People say I write good sometimes.

And I think this memoir letter thingie is the best thing I've ever written. So I am hopeful I will deflate these dubious assumptions and tug on my uncles' heartstrings.

But there is something you all can do to help me.

A friend on tumblr is helping me edit this memoir monstrosity. And she gave me her testimonial to add to my 3 witnesses.

"I have been following The Frogman for well over a decade on his website. It was years before I learned his name was Benjamin! We all just call him Froggy. He was (and still is) one of the funniest internet guys out there. He is incredibly skilled at putting together humorous GIFs and photo sets, and his comedic writing is second to none. He regularly goes viral. Along with that, he was open and vulnerable about the toll CFS takes on him. I can attest to many folks over the years telling him that he has helped them as they dealt with their own health issues. He is so knowledgeable about so much--his posts are famous for being long, detailed, and wildly informative. And most of all, entertaining. They are a joy to read. We also followed along on his heartbreaking journey with his parents. He shared so much of them with us over the years that they felt like people we knew. It was so clear, from his long absences, how much he was doing for them. Our hearts broke when he told us his parents were no longer with us. Froggy has fans, and so did his parents. Otis, too. We love and support him and will always wish him the best."

It made me cry.

But it also felt like getting a Yelp review on... my entire deal.

And it gave me an idea.

What if I had a bunch of these as optional testimony for my uncles?

I'm not going to force them to read what a bunch of internet strangers have to say. But it could be a compelling way to prove my website antics were a serious attempt to build a livelihood for myself. My uncles were successful businessmen and respect a strong work ethic and trying to make your own way.

I was too early for monetization options like Patreon, TikTok, YouTube, and Twitch, but I ran a very successful comedy blog. If I had my 2013 success in the 2020s, I probably would've been able to retire and live off that for the rest of my life. I have several original GIFs that were downloaded tens of millions of times. Google said one of them was searched for over 100,000,000 times.

My blog was silly, but I took it seriously and I had sponsors and merch and an Otis plush.

They think what I did was like when you are at the family Christmas gathering and you ask your weird cousin what he's been up to and he says, "I run a blog about corgis from my parents' basement."

How do I relate the impact I had? They don't know what "Know Your Meme" is. They don't know what being on the front page of Reddit means. They don't know the amazing community I built. They don't know that I created one of the largest and most generous online support systems one could possibly have. I'm still alive and trying to make a life for myself because all of you continue to love and support me.

I was successful and I worked hard despite my disability.

I just had bad timing with the financial aspect of that success.

So, if you want to leave a Yelp review of The Frogman for my uncles, I'd appreciate it.

I came up with a list of things I need to prove to them. I'm just going to copy/paste the entire thing here. I'll strikethrough the ones you all probably can't speak to.

I am not a basement dwelling loser.

My website was more than a silly hobby.

I did not mooch off my parents for 20+ years.

I did not steal from my parents.

I am not the crazed, awkward mess [my uncle] witnessed.

I am disabled.

I cannot get a job.

I am a good person.

I am a likable person.

I was a good son.

I took good care of my parents.

My parents would not have been better off in a nursing home.

My parents would not have been better off moving closer to my brother.

My brother and his wife neglected and emotionally abused Mom & Dad.

My brother and his wife changed the will to benefit them against my mom & dad’s wishes.

My brother promised repeatedly the will was a mistake and I would receive the full amount.

I did not take care of my parents to “retain the house” or get money.

So, if you want to attempt to convince two elderly conservative Catholic men that my cat memes were lit, I would appreciate the help.

If you’ve been part of this community, and you’ve ever felt like I made you laugh, cry, or feel understood, a short 'review' of me as a person could mean the world.

Just remember your audience is...

Uncle #1: A stoic, but brilliant 80 year old who writes text messages like they are business emails. Complete with "Dear Ben" and "Regards, Your Uncle". He is still very sharp-minded and lucid. He thinks success is a high paying job, a house, and a family (my brother). He does not like weakness and consistently thought I should "be an adult and get a job." He is very loyal and respected my dad very much.

Uncle #2: A 60-something retired grandpa who thinks his constant dad jokes are genuinely funny. He is empathetic, but secretly judgmental. He will act like your best friend even if he doesn't care for you. He is an amazing grandpa. Very involved with his kids and their kids. He keeps every video of them getting a goal in sportsball on his phone. He will help you if you think you deserve to be helped. He is very close with Uncle #1.

So... kinda running the gamut there.

You can reblog this post or leave a reply or send a private message or email me at frogman54@gmail.com

I will be anonymizing your names for obvious reasons.

I fear my uncles might not understand why Tumblr user "PokemonAssBlaster69" is saying nice things about me.

Explaining "The Frogman" is hard enough.

Anyway, thank you in advance.

[cobrakaisb]

day 'n' nite

summary: every friday night, like clockwork, the older counselors and campers waste their nights away at a party. usually you’re the one taking care of luke but tonight the roles are reversed and all the cards are laid out on the table.

word count: 3.1k

featuring: drunk!reader, happy luke + reader (hence the happy luke picture in the header), them being giggly and in love, a little sad at the end (but only a teeny tiny bit)

series masterlist ||| previous ||| next

giggles tumble out of your mouth, filling the already loud atmosphere with your pure joy. you clutch onto katrina’s arm, pulling her flush against your side, as your cheek rests on her bicep. she laughs at you, moving her arm to support your weight. 

you gasp, loudly, as her hand rests gently on your waist. “i have a boyfriend,” you snap, suddenly able to hold yourself up.

you stand, albeit a bit slowly, and move away from the girl. she does her best to hide her laughter, but fails. her laugh, however, builds up more anger in your chest, and you cross your arms.    

“oh he’s your boyfriend now? i thought you two didn’t do labels,” katrina teases.

you pout at her words, answering, “well luke says that not me. everyone knows we’re together.” 

“who’s together?” jade, a girl from the apollo cabin asks, sliding into the spot next to katrina.

you throw a nasty look in her direction, or what you assume is a nasty look. even in your inebriated state, you know that jade can’t be trusted. she was one of the first campers to hate on you, and she’s one of the few that continue to do so. once the novelty of hera having a demigod child wore off, most people left you to your own devices. there were still the occasional whispers and rumors, but jade and her friend group always seemed to be behind them. 

“none of your business,” you snap, turning your nose up at her like a fifth grader. 

she scoffs at you, “ugh whatever,” and walks away. 

you smile, a satisfied look on your face as you reclaim your seat next to katrina. she’s holding onto two cups, and you’re positive that one of them belongs to you. you reach for one of them, but she pulls it away, lifting it just out of your reach.

“i think you need a break,” she says, voice soft and caring.

“no ‘m fine,” you mumble, trying to reach for the cup again but completely missing. 

that’s the funniest thing in the world, and you burst into another giggling fit. katrina stares at you, a soft smile on her face. your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but your shoulders continue to shake with, now somewhat stifled, laughter. you can’t even register what’s so funny, but everything seems to have you in a giggly mood. one that only gets worse when luke walks across the way, followed by a group of boys who you know to be his friends.

“luke looks like a dragon prince,” you announce, pointing in his direction. 

katrina chuckles at your words; they make no sense. you, however, think they’re the most accurate description in the world. the orange and red hues from the large fire pit, courtesy of cabin nine, illuminate his features. he’s laughing at something one of his friends said, but his eyes are still deep and serious. the white scar tracing down his cheek shines brightly in the dark, and you wonder if landon knows he hurt his king. 

luke feels your eyes on him, because he turns and meets your gaze, smiling at you. you gasp as he throws you a subtle nod, like something out of a teen movie. your right hand clutches at katrina’s shirt sleeve, and you shake the material vigorously between your fingers. she looks to you, and notices the deep flush and dilated pupils. 

“he’s looking at me. i think he has a crush on me. oh my gods what do i do? i know my mother’s the goddess of marriage, but i’m not ready for this,” you ramble.

katrina laughs, again. luke looks your way, again. you start to panic, again. 

“relax,” katrina says, “he’s your boyfriend.” 

her tone is teasing, but you don’t pick up on it. all you feel is shock. your mouth falls open, and your head swivels between the curly headed boy and your best friend. 

“you’re lying,” you conclude. 

katrina shakes her head, “i’m not.” 

before you can refute her claims, the dragon king himself is in front of you. he slides into the empty seat on your left hand side, throwing his arm casually over your shoulder. there’s a can of something in his other hand, and he lifts it up to his mouth for a swig. you watch, with deep fascination, as his adam’s apple bobs while he swallows the liquid. when he’s done, he leans down to your ear, lips ghosting over the piercings that adorn it. 

“hi,” he whispers, pulling at your golden hoop helix piercing with his teeth.

you're stunned into silence. all that you can muster is a small gasp, and you turn to katrina, wondering what you should do. she’s already staring at you, but so are these other two guys, and a girl who you barely recognize. you point to luke with your thumb, asking a silent question. katrina nods, and one of the guys, another brunette, hides his laugh behind a red solo cup. 

you turn your head again, making eye contact with the cute guy next to you. you just stare at him for a while, and he holds your gaze the whole time. his right hand, you realize, is tracing circles on your exposed shoulder. the pad of his thumb is calloused and rough against your soft skin, but you like to contrast. you lean into his touch, shifting closer to him on the wooden bench. 

“ouch,” you mumble, lifting up your hand. 

“what’s wrong?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“i think i got a splinter,” you explain, holding up your palm for him to see. 

he inspects your hand, and there’s absolutely nothing there, but replies, “don’t worry. i’ll take you to the infirmary tomorrow.”

you nod, and he kisses your palm, right where the supposed splinter is. his lips are soft, you think, but then why is everyone giggling? you look around, but none of the four people surrounding the two of you provide any sort of explanation. 

“i know. my girlfriend makes me use this lip balm she really likes,” he says, and you’re still confused. 

“huh?” you ask, head tilting. 

“my girlfriend gave me this lip balm. it’s from glossy or something,” he answers, holding up the tube. 

you snatch it from him, looking at the label. even drunk, you know a high quality lip balm when you see one. 

“glossier! i love it there,” you exclaim.

everyone laughs again, even the boy next to you this time. you look at him, a shy smile on your face, as you unscrew the cap. you squeeze the tube, and lift the lip balm to your puckered lips. you rub them together, smacking them a couple times. luke doesn’t take his eyes off you; you don’t take your eyes off him. 

there’s relatively no distance between you two now, but you can’t bring yourself to care. luke doesn’t seem to mind either as he shifts his arm and way that pulls your body even closer to his. the little space that remained is gone, and your thighs are pressed together. you want to be touching him in some way, and lift your left leg to drape over his right one. you nudge his left calf with your converse, gaining his attention. you giggle at that, stifling your laughs with his shoulder. 

“she’s gone,” he observes. 

“oh i know,” katrina answers. 

“you smell so good,” you say, adjusting your head so that your cheek rests against him, and your eyes meet his. 

the two boys, the ones who you can’t recognize at the moment, burst out laughing. your eyebrows furrowed at that, a soft huff escaping you as you cross your arms and lean further into luke. you close your eyes for a minute, basking in his warm presence and the smoky undertones emitting from his shirt. 

“how many drinks have you had?” he asks, large hand rubbing up and down your back. 

“two,” you answer confidently, holding up two fingers. 

katrina scoffs, “try three cups of jungle juice and whatever else at the pregame.” 

“you pregamed?” luke asks, voice low against your ear. 

“mhm. cause what if they didn’t have any drinks i liked?” you reply, holding your hands up in defense. 

he chuckles at your words, humming in agreement as he kisses your forehead. that action, for some reason, registers as oddly intimate in your mind, and so you’re pushing him away. in your drunken state, you can't comprehend that he’s your boyfriend.

“i shouldn’t be doing this. katrina says i have a boyfriend,” you slur, shaking your head. 

“no, you said you have a boyfriend,” katrina replies. 

“well either way!” you yell, throwing your hands up in exasperation. 

“isn’t he your boyfriend?” one of the boys asks, pointing to luke.

“he can’t be. he’s too hot,” you answer confidently. 

everyone laughs at that, except for you and luke. luke’s cheeks are flushed red, but he looks at you with nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. he smiles at you, gently shaking his head in disbelief. 

you shrink back into yourself, slouching down in his arms so that the back of your head rests against his shoulder. luke’s hand fiddles with the hem of your jeans, fingers ghosting over your hips, and you squirm. you shove his hand away, covering your face with your own. 

“what’s wrong?” he asks, bending down so only you can hear him.

“i embarrassed myself,” you whine, peeking at him through a gap in your fingers.

luke chuckles, “it’s okay baby. i still love you.” 

you light up at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck. you pull his face down to yours, smacking kisses all over, only stopping to giggle from pure, unfiltered happiness. normally, you save the affection for the private confines of your cabins, but all of your reservations are out the window at the moment. 

luke smiles brightly at your actions, dimples and everything, as he squeezes your hips three times. it’s your silent code, an unspoken way for the two of you to communicate your love and appreciation for one another, and you smile happily at his use of it. you hug him again, burying your face into the crook of his neck. you can tell that he’s been smoking, and maybe that’s why his eyes are a little red-rimmed. you don’t mind, however, and opt to keep your head resting there. his arms wrap securely around you, cradling your body the way someone would hold a toddler. 

“tired?” he asks, rubbing a hand down your back.

you want to say no, but the giant yawn betrays you. 

“c’mon, i’ll bring you to bed,” he says, patting your thigh to signal for you to get up. 

you agree, holding out your hand for him to take. once your fingers are safely stowed away in his palm, you walk up to katrina. 

“goodnight tree,” you mumble, hugging her tightly. 

“g’night,” she replies, squeezing you just as tight.

with that, you let luke lead you towards the hera cabin as you focus on not tripping over your own feet. you stumble on the stairs, and luke squeezes your waist, holding you steady. he’s your rock, and you don’t know what you’d do without him. 

he opens the door, waiting for you to enter the cabin before following. you look around, and your eyes land on the giant statue taking up a majority of the room. you gasp, hands covering your mouth, as you meet your mother’s cold and calculating stare. 

“i don’t think she should be seeing me like this. can we go to your cabin?” you ask, turning to face luke.

“it’s a statue,” luke deadpans, shaking his head.

“but she’s all knowing,” you reply, pointing to the marble goddess. 

“you’re gonna be fine,” luke explains softly. 

you’re eyes are wide, and you continuously shake your head no. you grab onto luke’s hand, intertwining your fingers together. his hand is rough and worn from all the training he does, a testament to how long he’s been at camp. your mind wanders back to his position as king of the dragons, and you want to ask him if his hands are scarred from the claws of a rival. yet, it doesn’t seem appropriate, so you keep your mouth shut. 

“where’s you toiletry bag?” luke ask, letting go of you hand as he wanders around the cabin. 

“i don’t know,” you answer, following him towards the area you’ve deemed your bed. 

he huffs, standing back from the bed to monitor the situation. his hands are on his hips, eyes scanning the area for your bag with makeup remover, skincare, and other bathroom necessities. you find the pose extremely comical, and laugh. he looks at you over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“what’s so funny?” he asks.

“you look like my dad,” you wheeze. 

he pauses, mouth agape like a fish out of water. he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, but ultimately comes up empty handed. just when it seems like he’s about to say something, you’re bounding over to your bedside table, grabbing a bag that’s clearly overloaded. 

“found it!” you shout. 

luke cringes at the volume, but takes the bag from your hands without further questioning. he marches over to your closet, the one he helped you set up, and grabs a small towel from one of the shelves. you smile at him. he’s so endearing, you think, how’d i get so lucky?

“let’s go to the bathroom,” he says, tilting his head towards the door of your cabin.

you nod in agreement, taking his outstretched hand. luke smiles at you, allowing you to lead the way, despite your drunken state. he admires your beauty in the moment, although he knows you’d argue you’re anything but. your makeup is messy, your cheeks are flushed from all the alcohol, and your top is falling off your shoulder, yet he still believes that you can rival aphrodite. he shouldn’t think that, he realizes, as she’s one of the only gods he still prays to, but he does. 

the two of you enter the bathroom, and you're surprised by how empty it is. however, the peace and quiet is nice for a usually chaotic space. you decide on a mirror and sink in the middle of the collection, and turn to face luke, waiting for his approval. when he sets the bag down, and removes the towel from his shoulder, you know you’ve made a good choice. 

“alright, let’s take your makeup off,” he says, patting the small of your back. 

you fumble with the zipper of your pouch, trying and failing to get the bag opened. you pout, holding it out to luke, with a pleading look in your eyes. 

“i’ll help you. you want to sit on the counter?” he asks.

you nod, and turn around so your back is towards the sink and mirrors. you brace yourself, ready to test your physical strength in your drunken state. you fail the first attempt, not even making it onto the ledge. luke watches, amusement clear in his eyes, because it’s not like you to ask for help. 

“need a hand?” 

“no i can do it! i’m a demigod,” you answer, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

he chuckles at your response, but goes back to digging through your bag for the cotton pads and micellar water. he also takes out your face wash, moisturizer, toothbrush, toothpaste, and other skin care items he thinks you might need. 

“luke,” you whisper, tugging on his sleeve. 

he hums in acknowledgment, turning away from the array of products to face you. 

“help?” you ask with a shy smile. 

“i thought you didn’t need it, cause your a demigod,” he teases, crossing his arms. 

you’re drawn to his muscles, flexing against his tee and you’re temporarily left speechless. he’s just so hot, you think. 

“gods i hope my mom answers my prayers,” you blurt out. 

“about what?” 

“us getting married. i really want to. i think…if we were in vegas, i’d drag you down to the chapel,” you reply. 

luke’s mouth drops open in shock, “you think about marrying me?”

“nonstop,” you answer, finally climbing onto the counter. 

he stands there for a minute, unsure of what to say or do. all he knows is that he thinks about getting married to you too. he envisions you, regal as ever, like the true daughter of the queen of the gods, walking towards him down an aisle. it’d be small. you, him, and a handful of close friends, but every single part of it would be meaningful. 

“let’s get you ready for bed,” he says, changing the conversation. 

“okay!” 

it takes him much longer than usual to get you through your bedtime routine, but he doesn’t mind if you don’t. and, you seem pretty content right now. you’re smiling and giggling, making goofy faces at him in the mirror with toothpaste smeared on your chin and a fluffy headband keeping your hair at bay. the whole scene feels oddly domestic, especially when he takes your towel and gently wipes the corners of your mouth. it’s serene. it’s perfect. 

“you’re perfect y’know that?” he asks, looking at you earnestly. 

you flush, turning away from him. 

“stop.”

“‘m not lying! you’re perfect for me,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks. 

you pucker your lips, and luke lays a gentle kiss on them. you burst into giggles, engulfing him in a hug. 

“i want to change. come back to my cabin? please?”

he agrees, following you to the end of the earth. it was an easy request, nothing too extraordinary.

“let me get my pajamas, and then i’ll be right back, okay?” he mumbles, kissing your forehead before leaving you alone with the eternal glow of hera’s flames. 

by the time he gets back, you're standing in one of his tee shirts and a pair of sleep shorts. he’s just wearing a tank top and flannel pants, put he comes up behind you to wrap you in his arms. you away for a minute, dancing to a song only you two can hear. then, you wiggle out of his grasp, climb into bed, and pull the covers up to your chin.

“come lie with me,” you beg, patting the spot next to you.

he wraps you up on his arms, pulling you flush against his chest. once your breaths even out, he sneaks out of the bed, waiting just a second to make sure you don’t wake up. quietly, he pulls the candy out of his pocket — two blue raspberry jolly ranchers.

“please hera, let me marry her. aphrodite, keep her by my side, whatever it takes. please.” 

and for the first time in a long time, luke castellan makes a genuine offering.

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beeeeee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles

[batboyblog]

The governor was firm: Nebraska would reject the new federal money for summer meals. The state already fed a small number of children when schools closed. He would not sign on to a program to provide all families that received free or cut-rate school meals with cards to buy groceries during the summer.

“I don’t believe in welfare,” the governor, Jim Pillen, a Republican, said in December.

A group of low-income youths, in a face-to-face meeting, urged him to reconsider. One told him she had eaten less when schools were out. Another criticized the meals at the existing feeding sites and held a crustless prepackaged sandwich to argue that electronic benefit cards from the new federal program would offer better food and more choice.

“Sometimes money isn’t the solution,” the governor replied.

.......

The new $2.5 billion program, known as Summer EBT, passed Congress with bipartisan support, and every Democratic governor will distribute the grocery cards this summer. But Republican governors are split, with 14 in, 13 out and no consensus on what constitutes conservative principle.

One red-state governor (Sarah Huckabee Sanders of Arkansas) hailed the cards as an answer to a disturbing problem. Another (Kim Reynolds of Iowa) warned that they might increase obesity. Some Republicans dismissed the program as obsolete pandemic aid. Some balked at the modest state matching costs. Others hinted they might join after taking more time to prepare.

The program will provide families about $40 a month for every child who receives free or reduced-price meals at school —$120 for the summer. The red-state refusals will keep aid from about 10 million children, about a third of those potentially eligible nationwide.

......

As with Medicaid, poor states are especially resistant, though the federal government bears most of the cost. Of the 10 states with the highest levels of children’s food insecurity, five rejected Summer EBT: Louisiana, Oklahoma, Mississippi, Alabama and Texas.

Like the school lunch program, it serves families up to 185 percent of the poverty line, meaning a family of three would qualify with an income of about $45,500 or less.

......

Some Republicans, in rejecting the aid, found critics in their own ranks. After Gov. Henry McMaster of South Carolina dismissed Summer EBT as a duplicative “entitlement,” State Senator Katrina Shealy, a fellow Republican, wrote a column with a Democratic colleague warning that “hunger does not stop during summer break.”

In an interview, Ms. Shealy said the state should not reject $65 million “just because Biden is president,” and perhaps just partly tongue-in-cheek wrapped her plea in Trumpian bunting: “Everyone wants to say, ‘America First’ — well, let’s feed our children first.”

Oklahoma initially said it rejected the program because federal officials had not finalized the rules. But responding to critics, Gov. Kevin Stitt, a Republican, sharpened his attack, calling Summer EBT a duplicative “Biden administration program” that would “cause more bureaucracy for families.”

Tribal governments, which have influence over large parts of the state, stepped in. Already feuding with Mr. Stitt, they promised to distribute cards to all eligible families on their land, regardless of tribal status, while bearing the $3 million administrative cost. The five participating tribes will cover nearly 40 percent of Oklahoma’s eligible children, most of them not Native American.

“I remain dumbfounded that the governor of Oklahoma would turn down federal tax dollars to help feed low-income children,” said Chuck Hoskin Jr., the principal chief of the Cherokee Nation.

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

some of the most stunning highlights of this story.

All I got to say is, let's feed the children? every single Democratic Governor took the money to feed the kids, every governor who rejected it, every single one, is a Republican. If you don't vote for Democrats you are STEALING food out of kids mouths.

[unsolicited-opinions]

3/16/25 Reality Check: Mahmoud Khalil

1. Mahmoud Khalil is a spokesperson, organizer, and leader of CUAD.

2. CUAD is not a peace activist organization. It has repeatedly endorsed Hamas, violence towards Jews, and the destruction of Western civilization.

- CUAD endorsed Khymani James saying "Zionists do not deserve to live."

- Said CUAD: "We support liberation by any means necessary, including armed resistance."

- CUAD says it is "fighting for the total eradication of Western civilization" which must "continue to escalate until the empire crumbles," citing the violent takeover of a prison in Bangladesh by Islamists as a model of escalation. It endorsed Casey Goonan's attempt to firebomb federal buildings in Oakland, CA and Goonan setting fires at UC Berkeley.

- This week, CUAD proudly painted the triangular target on the residence of Columbia's interim president Katrina Armstrong and threatened her. The same target has been painted on many US synogogues...by people who dishonestly claim their beef is with Israel, not Jews.

3. Khalil has not been "disappeared," his location is quite public.

4. Khalil does not need to have been convicted of a crime to be deported. Endorsing terrorism is more than legally sufficient grounds for deporting a green card holder.

§1227(a) states:

Any alien (including an alien crewman) in and admitted to the United States shall, upon the order of the Attorney General, be removed if the alien is within one or more of the following classes of deportable aliens...

And section 1227(a)(4)(B) states:

Any alien who is described in subparagraph (B) or (F) of section 1182(a)(3) of this title is deportable.

Section §1182(a)(3)(B)(i)(VII) extends deportability to any alien who:

...endorses or espouses terrorist activity or persuades others to endorse or espouse terrorist activity or support a terrorist organization

This is not a first amendment issue.

5. It is 100% valid to demand due process for Khalil and oppose any attempts by the Trump administration to skip, subver, or deny die process. Due process must always take place. Without it, we delegitimize our legal system and erode civil rights for all. I'm very glad Khalil is getting his due process.

6. Trump is using antisemitism as an excuse to attack individuals and institutions he opposes.

Trump is also using antisemitism in this way as a political wedge and to deepen the left's growing antisemitism. Hence the "Shalom Mahmoud" social media posts from the White House.

It's working because the leftist antisemites are about as gullible and intellectually lazy as their mirror-image opposites on the right, the MAGA/QAnon/Jan 6 crowd.

Leftist fears about Trump's desire and efforts to turn the US into a Turkey-style autocracy are valid and I share them- but it would have been 100% legal for Biden to enforce these laws. I dearly wish he had done so.

Trump's doing it immediately projects vibes of wrongdoing, worsened by his godawful philosemitic messaging.

[stefans-brock]

colby brock

new years kiss!

summary: after multiple attempts of your best friend trying to set you up with her boyfriend's best friend, his best friend finally confesses his love for you.

it was sunday night, new years eve. you were at your best friend, katrina's apartment. the both of you stood in her bathroom, standing in front of the mirror as you both applied your makeup for the night.

"i still don't know what to wear?" you mention whilst rummaging around in your makeup bag to find your eyeliner. you hand katrina the tube, the routine of her doing your eyeliner now becoming a regular reoccurrence, as you found it a struggle to do on yourself.

you sat on the bath ledge as she stood in front of you. "you can borrow anything of mine" she says, concentrating on the task in front of her. "but that white dress you brought over was so cute" she continues.

she brings up the eyeliner to your eye, and you close your eyes, making it easier for her. in two swift motions, she does a wing liner for both eyes.

"i bet colby will love it" katrina tries hiding a smile by tucking her lips in. "kat!" you shake your head at your best friends bluntness. "what, he will!" katrina exclaims.

"you're unbelievable!" you giggle, leaving her alone in the bathroom, now making your way into her bedroom. "i'm trying it on!" you shout.

you take off your hoodie and shorts that you were wearing and put on the short, white, lace dress you had brought along with you as an option for tonight.

"kat, come in here!" you tell her as you look at yourself in her bedroom, full-length mirror. she walks into the room, holding an eyeshadow in one hand whilst her another hand is occupied with putting eyeshadow on her lid.

"i love it!" she gasps. "you look so hot, y/n" katrina states. you bit your bottom lip whilst admiring the dress, "you don't think it's too much?" you ask, turning around to face katrina. "no, it's perfect," she reassures you.

"i guess this is it then." you take one more look at yourself in the mirror before following katrina back into the bathroom, "how're you thinking of doing your hair?" she asks. "just gonna straighten it," you reply, plugging in your hair straighteners.

"they won't be able to keep their hands off of us," katrina chuckles, making you shake your head.

after both of you had finished getting yourself ready for the night, you were both cleaning up the mess made in the bathroom whilst waiting for the boys to come pick you both up.

when the doorbell rang, you quickly announced that you would get the door.

you made your way to the front door and swung it open. sam standing in front gave you a hug, "hey y/n," he smiles before walking around you to get inside.

colby was stood behind sam on his phone, but once sam moved, colby looked up - his eyes meeting yours. you gave him a smile as you discreetly scanned his outfit - black dress pants and a white dress shirt that had the first few top buttons undone whilst hair laid messily, some hair strands laying on his forehead.

"hey" he grins, "you look good," he says nervously before he follows sam. you look down at your outfit with furrowed eyebrows - just good?

"y/n-?" you hear katrina say. "yeah?" you shout back, turning around to the three of them now looking at you. "have you got everything?" katrina asks. you give her nod. "yeah, let's go guys" you squeal as you lead the way out.

just as katrina was locking her door, you realised you had forgotten your purse. "i forgot my purse!" you face palmed.

katrina sighs before turning around to you, she throws you her key. "lock up after" she states, you nod in response as you watch sam and katrina make their way down.

"you can go, you know, i'll be straight down," you direct to colby as you turn the key to open the door. "it's okay. besides, it's too early to be third wheeling them, " colby laughs. "in that case, i don't blame you," you smile, opening the door wider for colby.

"my bag's just upstairs, i'll be quick" you say before running up the stairs - or running the best you can in the heels you were in.

you grabbed your purse off of katrina's bed and made your way back downstairs. once you had made it to the downstairs hallway - you saw colby, taking off a mirror selfie.

he realises that you're watching him through the mirror reflection, so he turns to you, "wanna take a picture?" he asks. "uhm- yeah, sure" you shrug, making your way over to stand beside colby.

you look into the mirror and see colby biting his bottom lip before he shuffles discreetly closer to you. he let's his arm losely wrap around your front whilst his other hand held up his phone. he had titled his head, so he was looking at you. you felt the heat of his eyes burn into your skin as you looked at him through the mirror.

"you look beautiful," he whispers with a smile. you turn your head to look at him. he drops the hand holding the phone and stuffs his hand into his pocket of the dress pants he was wearing. he then steps closer whilst his other hand goes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

your eyes had lost themselves in his blue ones, as the two of you stared lustfully at each other.

after what had felt like several minutes - though only a matter of a few seconds - colby took a step back before clearing his throat, "we should go" he announces, making you nod your head in agreement. "yeah, let's go"

after you locked up katrina's apartment, both of you made your way to the parking lot, colby kept his hand on the small of your back, leading you to sam's car.

once reaching the car, colby moved his hand from your back to the car door handle. you frowned due to the loss of his warmth touch.

"you okay?" colby asks as he watches you, his eyebrows furrowed. your eyes widened whilst you looked up at him, realising you had gotten lost in thought. "yep, all good." you smile before giving him a thanks for opening the door. you climb into the other side of the car, taking a seat behind sam, who sat in the drivers seat. colby then followed in, sitting behind katrina, leaving the middle seat empty between us.

katrina called dibs on the aux as sam began driving, and colby turned his attention to his phone as he noticed the couple in front talking.

feeling bored, you rested your hand under your chin and looked out the window. anticipating for when you'd all arrive to the club.

whilst staring out the window, you feel colby shuffle around in his seat. looking out in the corner of your eye, you see him sliding over to the middle seat. he nudged your leg with his, waiting for you to turn your head around - and so you did.

you gave him a hum as you waited for him to speak up. "look at this," he says, pointing his phone towards you. you look into the phone as he plays a tiktok for you.

it was an edit of a tiktok from when him and sam lived in the traphouse - in the tiktok was also you and katrina, dancing to a trending song at the time. "you were terrible at that," you giggle after you'd watched the short clip. "blame that on the supposed teachers," colby shot you a look, and you returned the same look. "a teacher can only do so much if their students are -" you take a second to look him up and down, "well you," you grimaced playfully before letting out a small scoff.

colby shaked his head, "next time, try harder, sweetheart." colby winked before sliding back to his original seat. you directed your middle finger to him before dropping your hand down on your leg. you hear him chuckle before you turn your head again, looking out the same window.

you, colby, katrina, and sam had been friends for a long time now. you had met katrina a few months after she had started to date sam. so naturally, you joined their friendship group. you were especially close to the three you were currently in the car with. ever since meeting katrina - nearly six years ago - she would take any chance she could to try to set you and colby up. at first you never saw colby as anything more than a best friend but as time went on - you finally realised you had feelings for him. you were well aware that katrina had told sam about your feelings, but you didn't mind as much as he didn't tell colby about it.

after the short drive to the club, the four of you piled out of the car. colby helped you by covering you as you stepped out - pulling the hem of your dress down. "thank you," you say embarrassed, knowing your cheeks were growing a deep shade of red. "it's all good," he shrugs before taking your hand, "shall we?" he asks. you peek over his shoulder to see katrina and sam already walking in, "yeah, lets go." you began walking in the direction that you saw your friends walking in. colby was walking behind you, whilst your hands were still intertwined.

but once you had reached the entrance to the club, you saw paparazzi blocking the door snapping away with their cameras. you turned your head behind you to seek security off of colby.

colby understood the plea in your eyes and stepped in front of you, guiding you through the crowds of paparazzi. "excuse me, guys" he calls out whilst still having ahold of you.

during the many years of knowing sam and colby, you'd never seen paparazzi swarm them like this. katrina had now left sam's side and made her way inside alone.

when you looked up at colby, you realised he was talking to one of the men holding a camera. you gave the camera man a smile before turning away from the camera. your eyes fell and focused on yours and colby's hand - you tried pulling your hand out of his grasp, but that only made the grasp colby had on your hand tighter.

"and whose this?" you hear the man say, pointing his camera at you. your eyes shot up to colbys before he let out a chuckle. "she's - we're just -" colby begins stuttering before turning his head to the side once he hears his name being called out by sam. "sorry man, we gotta go" colby gently pushes past the crowd until you both reach safely inside.

"that was crazy," sam shakes his head. colby only nods at him before turning to you. "sorry about that, you okay?" he asks, you give him a nod, "it's not your fault, " you smile before turning to look at sam and katrina. "shall we guys?" you ask them. katrina eagerly squeals before taking your hand, running off with you into the crowds of drunken people.

katrina drags you onto the dancefloor, which was further down from where sam and colby stood.

you both give each other a glance when you realise the dj is playing 'promiscuous'. you and katrina joined in with the crowd on the floor and began dancing.

as the songs continued playing on, sam eventually made his way over to you both, holding three plastic glasses. two were cupped in either hand whilst the third was being held up by being in between his teeth. "here you go, ladies," he pipes up as he approaches beside you.

you give a thanks before taking a glass out of his hand. you knock down a shots' worth before wincing at the burn in your throat. "is this straight vodka?" you grimaced. sam takes the glass out from between his lips before chuckling, "yeah, sorry, that's mine" he says, reaching out with that same glass. you shook your head at the glass, "i'll keep this," you inform him. "you sure?" he asks. you give him a nod in response before moving beside katrina, who hasn't stopped dancing. only then does she stop dancing, taking a glass from sam.

your hips don't stop swaying to the music as you reach your hands above your head. you start singing along to the song, 'buy u a drink' you giggle as you watch katrina dance against sam, sam resting his hands on her waist whilst he whispered in her ear.

finding the couple sickeningly cute, you looked away from them. your eyes instantly falling on colby, who was already staring you down. he leant against the bar, with two others. jake and corey. they must have just arrived. moving your eyes back onto colby, you realise his lips are slightly parted. one of his hands held a drink whilst his other regularly ran through his hair. you turned your head back and focused on dancing with your friends.

katrina swayed her way over to you before whispering in your ear, "he's been staring for a while," she shouts before pulling away. she gives you a wink before moving back beside sam.

you look back at colby, his eyes now lay on a blonde, who was approaching him. he smiled at her as she began talking to him. the blonde played with her hair as she stood in front of him. you then notice jake and corey leave colby's side, the two of them shaking their heads at colby.

you huffed at the sight before finishing off your drink, settling it on a nearby table. you had lost sam and katrina in the crowd, so you started dancing alone until you felt someone come up behind you.

"what's a girl like you doing dancing all alone?" a deep voice says. you turn, looking up at the man. he gave you a smile before asking to join you. you gave him a nod as you slipped colby a look.

like the first time, he was staring at you. but this time, his eyes were narrowed whilst his eyebrows furrowed. he was chewing on his inner cheek whilst fiddling with his silver rings.

you pushed him out of your head and turned your attention to the man dancing with you.

"so, did you come alone?" the man asks. but before you could reply back, you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you.

your front collided with a familiar chest. you looked up at a furious colby, "the fuck she did" colby shouts. you looked up to those blue eyes and brushed yourself off of him. "what're you doing?" you ask, returning the same tone as him. "what do you mean 'what am i doing?', what the fuck are you doing?" he shouts over the music once again.

"shit bro, i didn't know she had a boyfriend." the man speaks up, you shoot him a look. "i don't," you shake your head before turning to colby.

"you're ao fucking annoying, y'know that" colby shakes his head before grabbing your wrist again, leading you both somewhere quiet. "colby, get off me," you complain.

colby had dragged you into a hallway that was quiet enough but still echoed the music that played.

"what was that?" he asks."nothing, i was just dancing," you shrug. "you can't tell me what to do, colby" you shake your head as you cross your arms over your front.

colby scoffs to himself before moving to stand in between my legs. "look at me" colby's voice comes out as a whisper. "when do i ever wear white?" colby asks, "fuck, when do i wear anything that isn't black" he says again.

"i'm not getting the point to this -" you shrug.

"i asked kat what you were wearing tonight, i wanted to match with the girl i was gonna share my new years kiss with, i wanted to match with the girl i was going to ask to be my girlfriend tonight" he shakes his head.

"i'm in far too deep when it comes to you, y/n" he sighs as he lets his forehead rest against yours. "i didn't want to see some other dude's hands all around you, and i lost it, i'm sorry. i fucking ruined it" he curses.

you gulped down the lump in your throat as you look up to colby's blue eyes. "colbs" you whisper. he hums before looking at you. "you haven't ruined it," you assure him.

the both of you stand there in silence with smiles plastered on your faces.

the echo of a ten second countdown is heard from the hallway, making you and colby widen your eyes.

"three" colby chuckles. "two" you giggle. "one" you both smile into a kiss.

"happy new year, colbs"

"happy new year, sweetheart"

+*+*+

if you have any requests, please send them in!

doesn't just have to be colby! 🫶🏽

+*+*+

[laukoslovergirl]

Play Pretend

Pairing: Parker Wotherspoon x Single!mom Reader

Warnings: talks of infidelty and a shitty ex husband. as always my cringy writing

Summary: your son's class had a special visitor. Which prompts a new obsession with the Boston Bruins. 

word count: 4k

Notes: no hate to Nick Blankenburg. I just picked a random single defenseman. I also know nothing about him sooooo. Sorry Nick Blankenburg, I'm sure you are a great guy. Also my timeline doesn’t really match with his NHL career but just deal with it. There will probably be a part two that is if i can get the thoughts out of my head.

“Momma, can we go see a hockey game?” he asked from his spot at the kitchen island. Drawing a dinosaur in his notebook. 

“Bud your dad doesn’t come to town for a few months,” you smiled at him softly. You had gotten married young. Swept up in a whirlwind romance with a young NHL defenseman, Nick Blankenberg.  Things hadn’t worked out, he was unfaithful amongst other problems. You got pregnant at 21 very quickly after your marriage. You could never regret your son, River. You’ve been separated for 3 years now and you couldn’t be happier. You wish you could have stayed for your son but you knew this was better in the long run. 

“I know but i wanna see Mr. Wotherspoon.’’ He says coloring in the dinosaur he was drawing. You furrowed your eyebrows, you weren’t aware he knew any of the Boston Hockey players. 

“Mr. Wotherspoon?” you asked. 

“Yeah he came into our class today. He’s a defenseman like daddy” he stated matter of factly. 

“And you wanna go watch him play. With me?” 

“Yeah momma, we only go watch when daddy plays. I wanna go watch Mr. Wotherspoon play.” 

“Okay baby I’ll look into tickets for ya.”  That wouldn’t be hard your best friend was a season ticket holder for the Boston bruins. She was always your emotional support when you went to watch Nick play at TD Garden which was the little bit of hockey you allowed yourself these days. Not that you had completely cut out hockey after your ex husband. You still went to watch him play for your son but hockey was usually playing in your house as it was one of your sons current obsessions. Granted you had been born and raised in Massachusetts, so supporting the bruins ran in your blood. Nick wouldn’t be happy about River supporting the Bruins but you would deal with that yourself. 

“Can I put hockey on mommy?” he asked, looking at you. 

“Of course you can” you smile at him “i’m gonna finish dinner okay”

~~~~~~~~~

A week later and you, your best friend Mikayla and your son were at TD garden for warm ups. You helped your son make a sign in an attempt to get Parker's attention. It was some silly sign about wanting a puck. You were recognized by some of the wags and were catching up with them. Your son was standing there mesmerized as per usual when Parker skated over with a big smile. He gave River a big wave. He noticed you behind the kid and sent you a wink before tossing the puck over the glass. You caught it, seeing his signature on the puck you smiled. Dropping down to your son's level and handed him the puck. “Look Riv he signed it” “that’s so awesome” he beamed at you. Before waving enthusiastically at Parker who was still watching the two of you. He had a questioning look on his face as you were with Katrina Marchand, Danielle Coyle, and Mayson Carlo. 

 —------ 

Brad and Charlie skated over and started talking to Parker while waving to their wives and kids. 

“That’s Blankenburg’s ex-wife and kid,” Brad said, nudging parker.  “Did Blankenburg get traded? They're usually only here when he is?”

“No look, they're here for spooner” Charlie joked poking fun at Parker. Charlie had a wide grin on his face. 

“Oh spooner,” Brad joked before going back to warm up. 

“It’s not what you think,” Parker yelled after Brad. “I met her kid when i went to do that school thing” He blushed and looked at Charlie. Who was still grinning like a kid in a candy store. As he moved closer to the glass to the group of wives and kids. 

—-------

You could only hear part of the conversation through the glass and all the noise in the arena. You looked at Katrina. 

“Any idea what that was about?” you ask 

“Knowing my husband he’s probably picking on parker” she said with a big smile 

“Oh one hundred percent” Mayson said looking back at you two as Brandon had finally skated over. 

“It’s not anything, don’t let them make it out to be anything please. I don’t want poor Parker having to deal with Nick for this. River met Parker in class a couple weeks ago and thought he was so cool and wanted to see a game that he didn’t have to divide his attention between his dad and his new idol.” you rambled out, as your son bounced in front of you watching all the players and talking with the groups of kids. 

“Where are you sitting?” Danielle asked 

“Mikayla is a season ticket holder, were right behind the penalty box” 

“Well if you ever wanna hang out in the box let me know and i’ll get you in” Katrina said giving you a hug. “Aww thanks Katrina, I’m sure River would love it” 

All the girls gave you a hug and took their kids back to the wag section of the rink as warm ups were coming to end. You looked down at your son who was still beaming watching the Ice. The Bruins were playing the Columbus Blue Jackets, your ex-husband's previous team. Some of the players who recognized you and River waved. You guys hurried back to your seats quickly before puck drop. You watched the game with an unmatched sense of joy filling your bones. He was singing along with the songs and yelling along with fans and auntie kay. 

~~~~~~~~

“You took my son to a Boston Bruins game??” Nick asked, you felt his fury even over the phone. Though you tried to stay on the down low your appearance at the game was still known. You were at least glad it was being aired out and not just your interaction with the players. 

“Yes Nick, he asked to go. I'm not denying these things to our son” you rolled your eyes. 

“He couldn’t have waited another two weeks until i’m in town?” 

“Nick, talk to your son. Don’t just get mad at me about this. I didn’t drag him there he wanted to go, he asked, I obliged. One of the players came in and to his class a few weeks ago and he thought he was cool. It’s really not that big of a deal so calm down or you're not talking to him tonight.” 

He huffed out a breath on the other side of the phone. You sighed, you wished he could just move on. Your son loved hockey in general. It didn’t matter who he was watching, your kid loved the game just like his dad and you just wished Nick would see that. “Okay can i talk to River now” “yes you can. River!” you called down the hallway to his bedroom “your dad’s on the phone.”

~~~~~~~

You guys had a routine for hockey days when Nick was in town. You made lunch for the three of you, while Nick spent the little free time he had in the morning with River. After lunch Nick left to go do the rest of his pregame routine and you got River to take a nap, before you left for the rink. You let River take a small nap. You had wanted to surprise him by taking him to the rink early to see the B’s drive in and hopefully get a chance to see some of his dad’s teammates too. You knew it would piss Nick off but you couldn’t care any less then you already did. Your priority was what river would not what your crappy ex husband thought. 

So here you were outside TD garden talking to some of the guys as they rolled in. Next to Parker, River had decided that Mason and Brandon were also his favorite players. River waved enthusiastically at the big SUV as it rolled up. Mason, John and Matthew inside. 

“Hey little dude,” John greeted from the driver's seat.  “Your parker's friend right?” he asked, looking at the both of you. 

“ ‘Friend’ is a loose term there”. You smiled at the younger guys “River met him at school and decided he was now a Boston fan.”

“Mason, you're one of my favorite players,” River pointed to the redhead in the passenger seat. Mason cracked a wide grin. 

“Heck yeah little bro knuckles” he reached his arm out the window for the boy in your arms. You picked him so, River could bump his fist with the redhead stretching across the car and Matthew stuck his head between the boys from the backseat. “What about me and john?” he asked with an exaggerated pout. River got shy in your arms and tucked his head into your shoulder. You laughed softly. 

“He’s all about defense men, tell em rivs. Tell them about your dad” you poked his side softly. He shook his head vigorously against you. “Thanks for saying hi guys good luck out there” you smiled at them you waved and grabbed one of rivers hands goofily waving at the boys animatedly your big hand wrapped around his. Next a sleek black truck pulled up and rolled down the window to reveal Parker. 

“Hey bud, It’s Parker look” you poked him again and his head turned shyly to look at the man in the truck before lighting up with a big grin. 

“Hey River,” he said with a wide grin, “River's mom.” 

“I’m Y/N” you introduced, yourself sticking out your hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” he smiled and shook your hand. “River what’s this not my jersey this time.” he frowned animatedly at your boy. You were an interesting pair. River in a small preds jersey and you in your Wotherspoon jersey. 

“Nope,” River said proudly with a smile, “Daddy's playing tonight. Which means i gotta root for him” 

“Hey but your mom’s got it on” he winked at you again, which caused you to blush. “Wanna take a picture?”

“We would love to.” you grabbed your phone and snapped a photo of the three of you. “Thanks Parker” you smiled at him “good luck out there avoid Nick if you can”. He laughed a beautiful bubbly sound that had butterflies taking flight in your stomach. 

“Not sure that’s possible” he smiled “every time i’ve played him he’s got some dumb chirp to antagonize me, which ends up back firing on him. As he’s the one who usually drops gloves first.” you bit your lip and nodded listening intently. 

“Parker, will you come to my game this weekend?” 

“When is it little dude?”

“Sunday” River smiled wide with hope filling his eyes.

“It just so happens that i think i can make that” He answered promptly “that is if that’s okay with your mom?’’ he looked at you. Hope clearly etched in the lines on his face. 

“Um, are you sure? I know how demanding your schedules can be, we don’t wanna impose?” you bit your lip with a soft frown. “I’m sure if you are” he smiled “i can only think of one other way i’d like to spend a sunday” 

“Okay” you beamed at the man. You exchanged numbers and he was on his way into the game. Later as you made your way into the arena you received a text from an unknown number. 

You look good in my jersey. 

You smiled at his shameless flirting. Finally meeting up with Mikayla inside the arena you nudged her and showed her your phone wordlessly. Her jaw dropped and she laughed. 

“Get it girl” she nudged your arm and chuckled. You guys got your snacks and made your way down to the rink. You laughed and shook your head. “No, I swore off hockey players, remember.” 

The game was pretty typical until the third quarter. When Parker and Nick got in a scrum that ended in them both getting 5 minute majors and Parker flipping off Nick as they were separated. You chuckled at the man's antics and his guts to do that to your asshole of an ex husband. “He’s gonna get fined for that” you winced at kayla next to you laughing her ass off. 

“I’m sure it was worth it” she was still chuckling as she righted herself in her seat. “You know you could help him” she wiggled her eyebrows at you “repayment.” 

“I know it's not what you meant but that’s a funny idea.” you pulled out your phone and opened venmo. Finding Parker’s venmo with his phone number, you sent him 500 dollars titling it fine with a thumbs up emoji and laughing faces. You could only assume you had added some heat to an already vicious rivalry. Though Nick may not appreciate it, Parker got River instantly out of his shell and you appreciated that more than the world could ever know. 

The night passed pretty ordinarily, you laughed at your ex husband and he showed up on your doorstep with a black eye. To which he glared at you and harrumphed his way into your living room where River was waiting to get a little bit more time with his dad. 

—--------

By the time Saturday night had rolled around you forgot about River inviting Parker to his hockey game Sunday morning. Until you received a text late Saturday night. 

P: Where should I meet you for his game tomorrow?

Y: Are you sure you still wanna go? We would understand if you don’t.

P: Are you kidding, I told River I would go. No amount of mediocre fights is gonna make me break my promise. Even if the result in some pretty hefty fines and some bad media attention. 

Y: Okay I can come pick you up if you want. 

P: Okay sounds good. 

You had to be at the rink pretty early and felt bad for Parker that you had to wake him up so early after a game last night. No matter to him it wasn’t that big of a deal. Honestly he was way more excited than he should be to hang out with you for hours and watch a peewee hockey game. From the moment he had laid eyes on you he was enthralled. 

After all, he barely knew you. Yet he had spent countless hours since seeing you at that first game. Wondering about your likes and dislikes and pet peeves and daily routines. How it would feel to wrap you up in his arms and to dance with you in the kitchen. To cuddle on the couch watching movies with River. To get to occupy the space next you and take up your time. 

“I wish we had time for coffee” you yawned next to him on a bench. Sleep had evaded you last night. Instead your brain decided to overthink how today would go with the handsome man next you. 

“Want me to go grab some?” he asked, yawning after you. “I don’t mind at all and truthfully could use some myself.” 

“That would be wonderful. I’ll text you my order” you smiled, pulling your keys out of your bag. 

He nodded, taking your keys and was on his way. Parker was out of practice in the dating department. Barely making time to have casual hookups. He was more focused on his game and trying to succeed. Being 27 and yet to play a full NHL season he was desperate to succeed. Not that he was happy with where he was at but being sent back and forth between the NHL and AHL, and constantly being scratched could hinder a man’s ego. 

But he wanted that with you. He wanted to come home after long games and road trips to you and River. He wanted long days between his practices and games and River’s practices and games. Honestly the longing made his head swim. He couldn’t recall the last time the pressure of wanting someone to like him had sat so heavy on his chest. Groaning he rubbed his sternum and let out a sigh getting in your car. He had to adjust about everything possible, after all you were at least half a foot shorter than him. 

You smiled as you saw Parker making his way to you. Arms full with donut boxes. You laughed softly as he set them down next to you. 

“What’d you do buy the whole store” you laughed, the awe was evident on his face a sound he wished he could play on a loop. He wanted to keep making you laugh most of all just making you smile. He knew he was staring, stuck enraptured with the sound before he shook his head and finally smiled back. The attention had made you the slightest bit self conscious. Nobody had looked at you that way in a long while. It made your chest ache. 

“N-no” he stammered “hopefully just enough to treat some of the other parents and coaches” you smiled at the thoughtfulness. A big grin broke out on his face mirroring your own.

“That’s very kind of you. Want me to split the cost with you?” you asked sheepishly. 

“No need. I got it” 

You guys went about the morning watching the littles warm up, chit chatting softly. When the game finally started you were excited to have someone to watch with, someone who was just as excited to watch River as you were. It was now the first intermission and the game was tied at zero. 

“Shit” Parker mumbled looking at his phone, eyes wide with shock and dread. “I'm so sorry I have to take this.” 

You shook your head and mouthed ‘no worries’ as he answered the call and stood up walking away. Can’t be a good call with a reaction like that you had thought to yourself as scrolled through your instagram. Preoccupied with Parker's call and hoping everything would be okay. Parker’s name caught your eye in a caption as you scrolled quickly past. Curiosity got the best of you as you scrolled back up and watched the interview with Bruins head coach Joe Sacco. The interview in question seemed to be flaming Parker for the fight with Nick. You rolled your eyes and scrolled away again. Hockey fans were quick to make a big deal out of nothing. It was a simple fight nothing more couldn’t they just move on. 

You finally noticed Parker walking back five minutes into the second period, hands stuffed in his coat pocket. Looking well over a little annoyed now.

“Everything okay?” you asked as he sat back down. He took a long pause taking a deep breath. “You don’t have to tell me you just seem really upset. So I wanted to check in.” you rambled to the silence looking into his eyes. 

He stopped you putting a hand on your thigh. “Management isn’t happy with me for that fight with nick.” he let out a sigh “we thought it would just blow over as a simple fight but i guess, Nick made a comment about me antagonizing him or playing dirty really something dumb that lots of media is having a field day with. Now they want me to figure out how to fix this amongst some other problems in my reputation” he put finger quotes around the last statement.

“Fix what?” you asked, anger leaking into your voice “something my dumb hot head ex husband did. That’s unfair. You really didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Apparently I did” he laughed half heartedly. 

“How can I help you fix this?’’

“The nick thing I’m honestly not sure. You know him better than I do, I've hated the guy forever. The other thing that’s pretty complicated and I'm not sure you wanna help.” he smiled sheepishly. What had he done that had become so messy. You stayed out of hockey gossip as much as you possibly could. But you wanted to help. You could see the tense of his jaw and shoulders. Practically watched the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out some way to fix this. His disappointment and anger seeped into every part of his body. 

“There’s gotta be some way I can help.” you smiled softly and placed your hand on his, where it rested on your thigh. His eyes widened in shock as if he just now realized where his hand had been since he had sat down. You tried to not let the soft giggle out but it escaped anyway. “Tell me what else is wrong and let me decide if it's too much for me to help with, yeah?”

He paused for a moment and shook his head in thought before letting out a big sigh. “This is dumb but I'm also getting some bad media attention because of a few women I've slept and gone out with,” he blushed. 

You frowned. If you were being quite frank this man didn’t seem like someone who should have all this negative media attention. But you knew the way puck bunnies and even hockey fans ran with whatever they could to stir up trouble. You liked him. A lot and though you hadn’t spent a whole lot of time with him you knew he was special and definitely not deserving of the bad press he had gotten. It always sucked when good players got the short end of the stick for media attention. 

“Date me” you blurted out running with the thought that had literally just popped into your head. Without second thought it was out of your mouth. He looked at you with confusion wrinkling his brow, but hope seeping into the tension he froze with. Frozen like a deer in the headlights he started at you. “I mean like fake date me. I have an amazing image and I'm a successful business woman. I can try to do some damage control and make whatever bad press you’ve had, stay in the past.” 

“Are you sure? How would that even work?” 

“We’d meet with our Pr teams to get everything hammered out via contracts and NDA’s and whatnot. To the public we’d be a couple that simply met and fell in love. We can hammer out all the dumb stories and questions everyone’s gonna ask over dinner. The stories will have to be real convincing and we’ll go on some dates and be spotted by fans.” 

“You’re certain about this?” 

“I mean yeah. You get along with river. He likes you so I don't have to worry about that. I honestly don’t have anything to lose if this goes sideways. So low risk high reward for me.” you smiled intertwining your hand with his where it still rested on your thigh. 

“You think this will work?” he asked 

“Truly we don’t know how many celebrities and athletes are in PR or contracted relationships so all anyone can do is speculate. Unless they have proof no one will really care honestly. I mean look at Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce a shit ton of people believe they are in a PR relationship but a crap ton of people still support and love them.” you went on and on listing all the reasons you thought this would actually work better than he thought. 

“You’re not scared that it won’t work?” he was full of endless questions as excited as he was for the opportunity to be around you more he was fucking worried. His reputation was bad enough. How would this mess it up more? He wanted to take the risk for this but more than anything he wanted all the fake shit to go away. He was sick of the image he had been given though it lacked truth it had begun to define him and how he lived. More than all that however he wanted you. He would accept that this was how he could have you. How long would this last? How long could he truly keep up the act? Without a doubt he knew he would fall in love with you. Was it worth the risk? He hoped so because he was gonna take it. You opened the door he was gonna barge right on through.

[oneforthemunny]

happy together |yandere!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: your and eddie's date at the hideout leads to uncovered pasts, from both of you. or part two of the yandere!eddie series.

contains: very dark fic! yandere!eddie. obsessive and posessive eddie. alludes to past violence, past relationship trauma, mean!eddie. parental trauma. alcohol. language. smut. oral (male and fem receiving), pinvsex. manipulative eddie. stalking. obsession. very dark. minors dni!!

“I’m not really sure I’m the right girl for this.” Nervous smiles, tugging at the ends of her sweater, a blonde ponytail bouncing with every turn of her head, scanning the room. “‘M not a big punk rock kinda girl.” 

“Good thing it’s metal then, right?” Eddie grinned, knee bouncing on the wooden stool. “C’mon, they’re not gonna mosh you or some shit. Just here to listen to music.” If only he’d known then, that’s not why Chrissy was so nervous, why she pulled and twisted the sleeves of her sweater furiously, chin ducked to her chest the entire night. 

“Hey, this is really good.” You giggled, the crystal trill of your giddy tone pulling Eddie out of his daze. There was no nervous blonde in front of him- no, there was an angel sitting across from him, giving him a bright smile that he was sure was melting him to his very core. 

“Is it?” Eddie’s voice cracked, wobblier than he would have liked. His knee still bounced on the wooden stool, trying to down his beer so he’d loosen up, enough to not shake so much but not too much- he couldn’t risk getting too drunk. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, tipping the rim of the martini glass to your lips, your lipstick stain printed on the rim. Eddie had never been so envious of a glass. 

“Really good. Excellent choice.” You praised, leaving Eddie blushing under your sweet words. “What’s this called again?” 

“Uh, a casio- no cosmo.” Eddie stuttered, fingers drumming on the sticky wood of the table top. “I’ll be honest, I just asked Katrina to make somethin’ good for you.” 

 “Well, my compliments to Katrina.” You giggled, sliding the glass towards Eddie. “You want a taste?” 

His heart jumped, eyes focused on the lipstick stain on the rim. The thought of putting his lips where yours were, it was too much for him, sending his body into overdrive. “S-Sure,” Eddie swallowed, picking the glass up. His lips barely brushing where your lipstick was, casual enough that he hoped you wouldn’t see the tremble in his hands. 

The vodka burned down his throat, singed his nose, swirling with the sweetness of the mixer. “Mm,” Eddie swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Shit, that is good.” 

You grinned, hands brushing when you took your drink back, both of your chins ducking with nervous excitement. There was a pause, a dreaded fill of silent tension falling between the two of you. 

Say something, Munson. Fucking say something, anything. But he couldn’t, he could barely form a thought. His mind cruelly wandered back to her, the night playing on a humiliating loop in the back of his head. 

“So,” You saved him, head lolling sweetly in your hand, a little drunk, a little silly. “You know if you wanted to take me out, you didn’t have to switch shifts with Brenda.” 

Eddie’s heart stopped, halted with thundering fear, body stilling. “W-What?” Eddie managed to squeeze the word through his tightening throat. 

Your lips tightened in a smile, fingertips tracing over the wood table. “Brenda told me about how you took her shift.” You admitted. “That you probably did it so you could ask me out.” 

Eddie’s cheeks flamed, the familiar ringing crescendoing in the back of his mind. Chrissy’s face morphing into yours, her look of horror and disgust taking over your own features. “I would never be with you, you’re a fucking freak! Do you hear me? Leave me alone! You’re a freak!” 

“Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to- I just meant,” Nerves blossomed in your own veins, hands wringing under the table. “I-I meant, you didn’t have to take her shift. I woulda-” Eddie blinked, eyes still wide, rounded like he’d been caught. “I would have gone out with you anyways.” 

Eddie’s body halted again, the raging screams of Chrissy, the deafening ringing in his ears, all stilled at your soft tone. “Y-You would’ve?” Eddie whispered. 

“Well, yeah.” You admitted, eyes cutting sweetly up to him. “I mean, yeah, I would have. You’re always sweet, and nice, and funny, and- yeah, I would’ve gone out with you. I’m having a really good time.” 

Eddie thought he might float away. His heart, his head filled with such a light, airy feeling that he’d gone positively boneless. “I-I’m having a good time too.” He ducked his head down, hoping you couldn’t see the rushing flush of red on his cheeks. 

“How did you-” Eddie stopped himself, taking a breath so his mind could still. He couldn’t ramble, his ramblings got him in trouble, showed too much. “Did Brenda tell you?” Eddie’s knee bounced faster, trying to stop his hands from twirling his rings around, nervous fidgeting. 

You smiled softly. “Yeah,” You nodded softly. “I mean, I brought up that we were going… out tonight. And she just kinda mentioned it.” You paused, looking down at your drink, twirling the black straw around the glass. An unsure pause filled the two of you, awkwardly floating around you in still uncertainty. 

“She, uh- Brenda, she said she used to date your uncle?” You tried again, stomach flipping, filling with dread. This was a mistake, you’d hoped that cynical voice nagging in the back of your head would have been wrong. 

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, calculated breaths, deep in, deep out, trying to calm his jolted nerves. The long drink you took didn’t help, looking around at the other bar patrons awkwardly. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Munson, get your head out of your fuckin’ ass, and do this right! Planned this shit for weeks, and now you’re gonna fuck it all up. 

“They dated for a while.” Eddie added, picking up his own beer. His hands shook when he lifted the bottle to his lips. “I, uh, I had just moved in with my uncle when they started dating.” 

“Are they still dating?” You pressed, hoping to keep the conversation going. 

“No,” Eddie shook his head lightly. “No, they broke up like years ago, but uh, she’s always been nice to me. Got me this job, so…” Eddie threw his hands out slightly, knee bouncing rapidly. 

Your eyes cut away, back down to your drink, twiddling with the straw awkwardly. Eddie’s ribs were constricting in the tightness of his own chest, sure the bones were about to tear through flesh. His hands clammy, fingers swelling around the silver rings on his fingers. 

“She, uh- Brenda, she was kinda like a second mom to me, after my mom,” Eddie’s throat tightened, eyes on the ring of condensation left behind by his beer. “After she passed.” 

“Oh,” Your face fell, eyes rounding sympathetically- a look he’d grown so used to, but seeing it on your features didn’t leave quite the same acidic disdain in his mouth. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that.” Your teeth tugged on your lip. 

“Yeah, it’s not- it’s fine. I mean, it was a while ago.” Eddie’s knee shook, sure he was rattling off the barstool’s laddering step. “Anyways, I went to live with my Uncle for a while a-and he was with Brenda. She’s always looking out for me.” Always, even when she shouldn’t, Eddie’s mind said what he didn’t, ringing loud in his thoughts. 

“That’s good. That you have her.” You smiled softly, Eddie’s heart soared. “She’s really nice. I like working with her a lot.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Eddie nodded, the tightness in his chest easing, even at the pause. “What about you?” 

Your eyes met his with an unsettling suddency, wide and urgent. Eddie’s brow raised before he could still it. “W-What?” Your stuttering squeak piqued his interests, sending him soaring into bouts of curiosity. 

“I mean, what about your family? Back home?” Eddie’s tone was level, an uneasy kind of calmness that left you consumed with vulnerability. 

“O-Oh,” Your hands twisted under the table, picking the black polish that smudged over your cuticles. “It’s not much, honestly.” 

Eddie nodded slowly, eyes scanning your features. The way you swallowed anxiously, chewing the inside of your lip. “Fucked up home life?” Eddie grinned playfully. Your eyes lifted back to him. “Sorry, that was- I’m just saying, I get it. You don’t have to tell me, but if you ever wanted someone to talk to, it doesn’t get more dysfunctionally fucked than the Munson’s.” 

“No, it’s not that.” You shook your head gently. “No, I’m- I was really close with my family. I just, I don’t get to see them much now anymore.” 

Eddie swallowed his words, the urge to jump and demand to know more, to scare you with his prying. He couldn’t do that, not again. Girls didn’t like that, he’d learned that. 

Instead he stayed silent, watching you fidget around. “I-I moved when I was eighteen.” Your eyes stayed on the table. “I, uh, I moved with my… They didn’t want me to leave. They wanted me to stay and go to college. My dad really wanted me too, and-and when I didn’t… We just kinda lost contact?” The words tumbled out of you, lungs squeezing them out, wringing them from your chest like a soapy rag. 

“I used to talk to my mom a lot, but… I don’t know. It got kinda weird, ya know?” Your own knee bounced now, eyes rounding to his, in a face that was all too familiar. 

“My mom, she was just really hard on me. I-I don’t think she meant to be, but…” Visions of Chrissy’s same troubled face meshed with yours, her words ringing like sirens in his mind. 

“Yeah, no, I get that.” Eddie swallowed, blinking hard to get her face off of yours. Insulting, Munson, comparing her to you. 

“So, you don’t talk to them much anymore?” Eddie pressed. 

Your head shook. “No, I-I mean I’m sure they would if I would call.” Your heart drummed in your ears. “T-They don’t know how to reach me, so… I’d have to call them, a-and it’s just a mess.” 

Eddie’s spine tingled, icy pricklings of curiosity. Your parents didn’t know? Didn’t know you moved all alone? You said you were close, had pictures of them in your bedroom, but why? What weren’t you telling him? 

Eddie didn’t pry, simply nodding, grabbing his beer. “No, I get that.” He nodded. “I get the messy thing.” You lifted your own drink, gulping down the rest of it, wincing at the burn of vodka down your throat. 

Silence fell over the two of you again, a lingering awkwardness in the air that had Eddie’s stomach turning. 

Whoever called alcohol liquid courage, might’ve been a genius; Eddie had decided that. Three beers in, his hand was on your waist, head banging and rocking with you in the middle of the crowd. Surprisingly full and packed tonight, Eddie was thankful, it broke up some of the uncomfortableness. It only took your two more drinks to fully loosen up, teetering on tipsy and breaking open a new side of you to Eddie that he was enthralled with. 

Giggly and sweet and chatty and so touchy. You’d grabbed his hand, pulled him into the crowd, shoulders brushing and wiggling through the others to get near the front. 

“They’re really good!” You screamed over the roar of the music, turning towards Eddie. 

“Yeah?” Eddie yelled back, his hand still ghosting over your waist, the band of your jeans. “You like it?” 

“Yeah!” You giggled, lips spreading in a wide smile. “I-I’m having a really good time!” 

Eddie’s heart skipped, maybe stopped all together. He was thankful for the dim lighting, that his blush was hidden by it. “Me too.” Eddie’s voice cracked. “I-I’m having a really good time, too.” 

You smiled, arms thrown around his neck in a sloppy, silly way that had his knees tightening, weakened under your smile. Your eyes flickering down to his lips, teeth catching and rolling your own. Eddie was sure you could feel his heart thundering through his veins, his own hands gripping your waist rigidly. 

You were teasing him, playful, but agonizing. Head swaying in then back, closer and closer to him. Noses nearly touching, an almost brush that had Eddie’s blood rushing to his cock. Tongue running over his own lips, his head inched closer to yours, your lips barely brushing his. 

“Eddie?” His body ran still, rigid at the voice. 

“Eddie Munson?” Your lips fell in a pout, arms slacking around Eddie, slipping off his frame. Brows furrowed at the blonde in front of you, though she wasn’t interested in looking at you, eyes in a nearly challenging glare at Eddie. 

“H-Hey, Tammy.” Eddie’s hands slid down your waist, shoulder moving in front of you. “What are you doing here?” 

Tammy’s lips twitched in a fake smile that came off more like a snarl. “Jason knows the drummer. Plus, it’s half on buckets during the show.” Her eyes scowled over his frame. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” 

Eddie’s heart stopped, a clammy chill blanketing his skin. “Yeah, hey, it was good to see yo-” 

“-I haven’t seen you since you showed up at Chrissy’s place.” Tammy sneered. 

You blinked, brows furrowed, trying to lean in to hear the conversation. Eddie’s body tilted, trying to shield you out of the way. 

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, taking a slow inhale to calm his racing mind, spiraling at the memory of her, Tammy’s words, you behind him. The trilling ring made its way back into his ears, vision spotting with a black vinaigrette. 

“So how is Chrissy?” Tammy’s eyes slanted in a predatory challenging glare. 

Eddie swallowed, fists balling beside him. “I don’t know, Tammy.” He sneered through his own gritted teeth. “She dumped me. I’m sure you know that-” 

“-Yeah, I heard that.” Tammy scoffed. “But what I think is so strange, is right after she packs up and leaves? To go stay with her aunt?” 

“I’m sure her parents made her go to college up there. That’s all they wanted for her anyways.” Eddie snapped, much more territorial than he meant it to. Your heart dropped at his tone, the anger in his eyes, jaw clenched. Taking a step back, you moved back into the crowd, chest tightening, desperate for air. 

Eddie’s eyes cut to you, stepping towards you. Tammy sidestepped in his way, blocking him. “Cut the bullshit, Munson. I know you did something to her.” 

“What?” Eddie snapped. “Can you leave me-” 

“-No. She moves and doesn’t tell anyone? You expect me to believe that? Buy that bullshit?” 

“Maybe she didn’t like you, Tammy.” Eddie barked, eyes blown with a crazed anger that had her flinching. “Maybe you two weren’t as fucking close as you thought? Huh?” Eddie took a step towards her. 

“And before you start accusin’ me of shit, why don’t you fuckin’ think about what you’re saying. You think her parents wouldn’t have called the police, led a fucking man hunt if she disappeared or something? Huh?” Eddie spat, heat creeping in a flush up his neck. His eyes cut to you, scampering towards the table, fumbling with your coat. 

Eddie’s heart lurched, turning back to Tammy. Ears ringing, seeing red- red all over her, splotchy on his vision. Her eyes wide in fear she tried to hide, rigid and cowering in the crowd over his looming figure. “Thought you were supposed to be smart. Valedictorian or whatever.” Eddie sneered in a scoff, stomping away from her. 

He tore through the crowds, uncaring of the huffs of anger or annoyance from the others. Tunnel visioned in a determined glare, set on you. You, spine stiff, stuttering steps towards the exit. 

Ruined. Ruined, it’s fucking ruined. Fucking Tammy, ruined everything. Everything you worked for, Munson. It’s over. Done. Again. 

“Hey,” Eddie took a bounding step towards you, heart hammering in his chest. Your shoulders tensed, not turning back. “Hey, where’re you going?” He tried to keep his voice light, void of the frantic tightness he was feeling in his chest. His hand touched your shoulder, pulling away when you flinched away.

Your eyes were blown, meeting his with a look of positive terror. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Sorry about that. She- We went to high school, and-and she was friends with my ex, a-and- Are you ok?” Eddie’s brows creased, cutting down to your trembling hands, shaking even in the tight knuckled grip around your jacket. 

“I-I I need to go outside.” You stammered, chest constricting your airways. “I just, I-I need some air.” 

“Ok. Let me grab my jacket and-” 

“-That’s alright.” You said quickly. “I just- I-I’m sorry.” Your chin ducked to your chest, you tore through the crowded tables, the gathering at the bar towards the exit. 

“Shit,” Eddie hissed, turning back to the high top you’d been sitting at, his leather jacket still on the back of the chair. He dashed towards the table, running through the bar, uncaring of the bouncer’s booming warnings, pushing out the doors. 

The parking lot was empty, no sight of you on the wall, next to the other smokers, or by his van. Eddie’s hands went to his hair, fists balling around the hair there. “Shit, shit, shit.” She’s gone. You scared another one away, Munson. No, I-I can’t. It can’t end like this. I won’t let it. I could go to her house, I-I’ll go to her house- And do what? Break in. How’d that work the last time, you fucking idiot- 

“Hey, man,” A bartender wearing the Hideout’s black tee called, smoke spilling out of his mouth with the words. “You lookin’ for a girl? She ran out here cryin.” 

Eddie’s heart leapt, nodding furiously. “Yeah, yeah, did you see her? Where’d she go?” 

The man nodded around the corner. “I asked her if she was alright, but… She seemed real upset. Didn’t want to make it worse.” His eyes rolled over Eddie’s figure. “You might wanna go check on her.” 

“I will. Thank you. Thank you.” Eddie’s legs felt like jelly, numb with every bounding step on the graveled pavement. He rounded the corner of the building, hearing you before he could see you. 

A shaky exhale, ghosting with the hint of a cry. He found you, back against the brick, sitting on the grass, head tilting up high, shoulders fighting the shake of a cry with every long inhale and deep exhale you took. 

Eddie stilled. He had to be careful, only one chance, one shot to fix this. 

“Hey,” Eddie said, wincing at how you jumped, eyes shooting open. “Hey, no, I-I didn’t mean to scare you. I-I was just coming to check on you.” 

Your eyes shone, lip wobbling with a cry. “I-I’m sorry.” You croaked, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

Eddie paused. Sorry? He had expected you to scream, to try and run, call him a freak like Chrissy had. Anything but sorry. 

“I-I’m sorry-y. I-I didn’t-” You gasped for a strangled breath. “I-I’m fine-” 

“-Hey,” Eddie crouched towards you, knees sinking in the cool grass beside you. “Are you ok? What’s going on?” 

Tears leaked down the corner of your eyes when you squeezed them shut, head shaking. “I-I’m sorry. I-I’m so s-sorry.” You sniffled, a broken, breathy cry tearing from your chest. 

“You don’t need to be sorry. Hey, c’mon, you-you gotta relax ok. Breathe? Can you- Can you breathe?” Eddie’s hand found your shoulder gently, rubbing the soft material of your shirt. “Just try to relax. Deep breaths, in. Innnn… Yeah, then outttt.” 

You followed his breaths, shoulders still shuddering under his touch even as your cries calmed, aftershocks of emotion he wasn’t sure where it came from. 

Eddie waited, watched you carefully until your eyes met his, sheepish and a little embarrassed, glassy from tears and the liquor you’d had. “You alright?” Eddie asked carefully, cringing at the way your shoulders tensed. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean for her to upset you.” 

You continued to breathe, eyes closing in controlled, timed breaths. Eddie’s own heart picked up. “I-I don’t know what you heard, b-but she’s full of shit, ya know? She’s always been just… She’s never liked me. Even in high school, she used to pick on me and shit. I-I didn’t- I don’t know why she did that tonight. Probably saw me with you, a-and wanted to start shit or-or whatever.” Eddie rambled anxiously. 

Your eyes met his, still rounded but less wide, lacking as much terror as they did before. “That’s why you yelled?” You asked. “That’s why you were upset?” 

“Yeah, I-I mean, yeah.” Eddie watched you carefully, studying every tiny quip in your features. “I-I shouldn’t have. I-I don’t normally get pissed like that, but… I don’t know. I just felt like I was back in high school, ya know?” Eddie sat next to you, his own head leaning against the brick. 

“Felt like they were just picking on the freak again because they can. Thought we’d leave that shit in highschool but… I don’t know. They never do.” Eddie sighed slowly, shoulders slumping next to yours. 

“I don’t… I don’t usually lose my shit like that. I try not to even give them a reaction, it’s just… My ex, she-she was friends with them. Popular and all that, and when we started dating, they’d just- they were so mean. They’d say stuff and-and she’d get embarrassed of-of me.” Eddie turned towards you, eyes soft, shining with a vulnerability that made your heart ache. 

“She never wanted people to know. Never wanted to be seen with me because they’d say mean shit like that. And I’d let them, I’d try to ignore it for her, but she… She couldn’t ignore it.” Eddie muttered. “She gave in. Broke up with me and started telling them all this crazy shit. Trying to cover up that… I don’t know- that we were actually together? That she wanted to date me. Easier to blame the freak than tell people we were together, I guess.” 

Your eyes met his, hesitantly. “I-I’m sorry.” You whispered, voice cracking. “That’s… That’s really mean.” 

Eddie shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’m used to it.” He muttered, looking down at the small patch of grass between the two of you. “Well, I guess I’m not as used to it as I thought I was.” Eddie muttered, eyes lifting to yours sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to cause a scene. To scare you. I-I would never-” 

“- No, I-I know.” You shook your head lightly. “I’m just… I get weird.” Your own chin ducked towards the ground. “I get weird with fighting and stuff.” 

Eddie stilled, watching you twist a blade of grass between your hands. “Guess we have the ex thing in common, too.” You muttered. “My ex-boyfriend… He’d get really mean sometimes. Just really angry.” 

I’ll kill him. Eddie swallowed down the threat- no, the promise. Swallowing back his fierce anger. 

“He-He never, like, hit me or anything, you know? It was weird, because there wasn’t any physical evidence or anything. I couldn’t go to the police for him yelling at me, but it just- it still really hurt.” Your voice cracked, lip wobbling at the memories. “That’s why I don’t talk to my parents. I moved with him, ignored them because they told me not to, and then… They were right, I guess. Just can’t really bring myself to call them and tell them that. Tuck my tail between my legs and go back. So I came here.” 

“I’m sorry.” Eddie whispered. Your eyes met his. “No, I-I’m sorry, that’s- I’m sorry.” Eddie said sincerely, his hand brushing over yours. 

“It’s okay-” 

“-It’s not, and… And I’m really sorry.” Eddie nodded gently. “I didn’t mean to yell. I shouldn’t have let her get to me-” 

“-No, Eddie, i-it’s fine, really-” 

“-I didn’t mean to ruin our date. End the night like this.” Eddie ran a hand down his face. “This is not- I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would end just fucked like this.” 

You paused for a moment, head still spinning with the liquor, with emotion, dizzily. You’d blame it on that, credit that dizziness for your courage. “It doesn’t have to end like this.” You whispered. 

Eddie stilled, eyes cutting to you carefully. You still toyed with the grass, eyes lifting sweetly to him. “We… We could go back to my place? I-I think I still have a movie I haven’t returned.” 

Eddie’s wheels squealed when they pulled out of the Hideout’s parking lot, desperately back to your apartment. 

Eddie was sure he was dreaming. Sitting on your couch, your apartment smelled just like he remembered, even better when you lit the candle on your coffee table, making a mental note of the name. He’d go buy it in bulk tomorrow, fill his apartment with them burning in every room just so he could feel closer to you. 

You’d moved into his lap halfway through the movie, inching closer with every passing frame of Julia Roberts and Patrick Bergine until you straddled him. Eddie burned under your gaze, your hands back on his shoulders, sliding slowly towards his neck. 

“Hi,” You whispered, tilting your head gently to the side, lip rolling beneath your teeth. 

“Hi,” Eddie croaked, swallowing the thick lump in his throat. 

“Is it ok if I do this?” You whispered, the glow of the TV illuminating your mussed hair. Eddie thought it looked like a halo, angelic above him. 

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded dumbly. C’mon, get your shit together. You’ve almost got it, Munson. 

His hands slid over your hips, setting on the small of your waist, where the band of your jeans hugged, squeezing the flesh gently, feeling you beneath his hands. You were really here, he was really here, with you. Living proof, right between his fingertips that this was no dream. 

You leaned forward, a hand brushing back his curly bangs. “What’s this?” You muttered, fingertip ghosting over the jagged scar across his forehead. 

“Bike wreck of seventy-six.” Eddie answered cooly, voice raspy and low in the dim light of your apartment. “Thought I could pop a wheelie on concrete. Didn’t go well.” 

“Hm,” You sighed, lips twitching in a small grin. “You were a little dare devil, hm?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. His hands slid down your waist, hoping you couldn’t feel his heart hammering. “Still can be, sometimes.” His lashes batted up at you, squeezing the fatty flesh of your ass. 

You squealed, Eddie’s heart leapt- he’d made the right move. Your eyes caught his, pinning him with your gaze, a delicacy of anticipation fell between the two of you. Who would break it? Make the first move? 

Eddie’s fingers pressed into your jeans, a hand sliding up your back, pressing to the middle of your spine, bowing you forward toward him. Your hand on his neck, fingers splaying out over his jaw, lips connecting in a sweet kiss. Eddie felt like he was melting, a warm, gooey puddle underneath you. 

Hands grabbing at the other, fevered and desperate, your hips rocking with his, brushing over his tenting zipper. Eddie could taste the wine on your lips, the glass of reisling you’d poured for the two of you before you’d put in the movie. “Since I killed the buzz before,” You’d shrugged at him sheepishly. He assured you, you hadn’t, still he was thankful for it, especially now. Now that he was loosened, far less critical of his every move. 

Fumbling hands that pulled at his t-shirt, your jeans, Eddie flipping you over on the couch, hovering over you on the faded floral pattern of the couch. “You- We don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” Eddie whispered, his hands still toying with the button of your jeans. “I don’t want you to think I-I, like, only wanted this. I don’t- I mean, I do, I just… I want you in other ways too.” 

You blushed, a sheepish smile under him. It was your turn to melt, to turn to putty under his gaze. “I know.” You whispered, black painted nails scratching down his forearms, over the etching of the puppet master. “I want to do this.” Your eyes lifted to his. “I trust you. I want to do this with you.” 

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, you knew that, the darkened grin on his face confirmed it further. Your own hands fumbling with your jeans, wiggling them down your thighs while Eddie tore his t-shirt off above you, flinging it onto the floor. 

You’d gone for a lacy, high cut thong tonight. Pale pink, frilly, if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d think you planned this. That you planned to sleep with him. Maybe you thought about him the way he did you. Pictures of you flooded his mind, your hand sneaking between your thighs in the middle of the night, whimpering out his name. 

You didn’t expect Eddie to drop to his knees, pulling your body towards the end of the couch, thighs on his shoulders. He made a show of taking off your panties, a slow tug dragging them down your bare legs. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie rasped, heart beating in his ears. You giggled nervously, pressing your hands over your eyes. “Look at you.” 

“Stop.” You whined in playful embarrassment, thighs pressing together. 

“No, it’s- fuck.” Eddie swallowed his words, swallowed down the urge to tell you it was better than he imagined. Don’t be creepy, Munson. 

“I gotta have a taste. Can-Can I have a taste?” Eddie’s eyes rounded towards yours, bright with excitement. “That alright with you? Let me make you feel good? Have a little taste?” 

Your body burned, with lust maybe excitement, you weren’t sure. Your tiny nod was all he needed, spreading your thighs open, settling between your legs. You pushed up on your arms, looking down the valley of your sternum towards him. 

Plush lips pressing kisses to your thighs, a teasing kiss to your mound that had you whimpering, aching and pulsing between the legs. Eddie’s eyes stayed on yours as he licked a long, slow stripe through your slit. Better than he imagined, so much fucking better. 

Eyes rolling back, his fingertips dug into your thighs, nose pressed to your slick, he wanted to suffocate himself in your cunt. Better than anything he’d ever tasted before, he was a man starved, determined to devour you entirely- you were convinced he might. Teetering on the edge of experienced and enamored, your back arched, body twisting under his tongue. Whines and cries of pleasure filled the air, a crescendoing melody to the triumphant symphony Eddie was feeling in his veins, rushing with red hot pride. 

It was paradise, better than his wildest dreams. 

When you took him in your own mouth, sweetly grinning at him before giving a kitten lick to his leaking head, he was sure nothing would be better than this. This was his peak, everything he’d ever wanted and more. Better than Chrissy, than Tabitha, than anyone. 

You brought him to your room, let him press your thighs back, spread you open again. He couldn’t help the cry of pleasure that spilled out when he slid into you, it just felt so right. Beyond pleasure, though it was plenty pleasurable, it felt flawless, ethereal. 

Better than anything he could have imagined when he saw you weeks ago from his van, your car packed up full of boxes and suitcases tied on top. In a tiny pair of cut off shorts, moving everything in the warm sunshine. 

How was he to know that all those weeks ago, after he’d watched you apply for jobs at the diners and boutiques, that when he’d put a help wanted flier on your door for Turtle’s, that it would lead to this. His mind could have never dreamt this, that you’d be this perfect, fit so perfectly with him. 

No, this was fate, Eddie was sure of it. Cosmic fate. Chrissy and the others, they were only parading as the real thing, he’d just convinced himself it was when it was merely a disguise. But you, you were the real deal. Eddie decided it, when he settled in the sheets next to you, arms around your frame, staring out the window of your room. 

[overtea]

The Pitt Timeline

This timeline of The Pitt will be updated with new information as people will hopefully correct me and add to this! Notes explaining general calculations (confirming season 1 is set in 2025, the birth year of characters, the general timeline I used for medical school to emergency medicine residency) are beneath the cut.

Date - Event

1948 - Montgomery Adamson is born (S1E01, plaque on memorial wall).

1992/1993 - Dana Evans begins working at the Emergency Department at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center (PTMC) (S1E08, “32 years”).

1982/1983* - Cassie McKay is born (S1E01, “42-year-old R2”).

1995/1996 - Samira Mohan is born (on Twitter, Supriya Ganesh says the writers and her decided Mohan is 29 in season 1 [link]).

October/November 1998 - Trinity Santos is born (S1E06, she tells Yolanda Garcia her star sign is Scorpio; the first draft of the script for the first episode [link] says she is 26, so if the season is set in September, her birthday has not passed yet).

2004/2005 - Victoria Javadi is born (S1E01, “I’m 20”).

Before August 2005 - Michael Robinavitch completed his residency program at Big Charity Hospital in New Orleans, Louisiana (S1E09). While the timeline between then and his arrival at PTMC is unclear, the hospital closed following Hurricane Katrina in August 2005. Therefore, Robinavitch would have left the hospital in 2005 at the latest.

2007/2008 - Jake Malloy, Robinavitch’s stepson, is born (S1E05, “I’m 17”).

2008/2009 - Mohan’s dad dies when she is 13 (S1E05).

2013/2014 - Harrison Ashcroft, McKay’s son, is born (S1E02, “he’s 11 now”).

March/April 2016 - McKay gets sober (S1E05, “9 years, 5 months, and 11 days”).

2017/2018 - Javadi attends college and later medical school at the University of Pittsburgh (S1E10, “go to college at 13”).

2020/2021 - Tanner Langdon, Frank Langdon’s son, is born (S1E02, “four-year-old”).

Before September 2020 - In a flashback set when Adamson’s health was declining because of COVID-19 in 2020, Mohan is pictured in a photo at his bedside (S1E07, Robinavitch and Perlah Alawi are also pictured). This may be an error in using a picture of the cast, but if accurate, this implies Mohan attended medical school in Pittsburgh. At the latest that this photo could have been taken (at PTMC in early 2020), Mohan would have been in her first year of medical school.

September 2020 - Montgomery Adamson dies during the COVID-19 pandemic after 17 days on ECMO.

July 2021 - John Shen begins his first year of residency** (S1E12, “still a resident three months ago”).

July 2022 - Heather Collins, Frank Langdon, and Parker Ellis begin their first year of the emergency medicine residency program at PTMC.

July 2023 - Mohan begins her first year of residency.

July 2024 - McKay begins her first year of residency.

July 2025 - Shen becomes an attending physician in emergency medicine. Collins, Langdon, and Ellis begin their fourth year of residency. Mohan begins her third year of residency. McKay begins her second year of residency.

August 2025 - Dennis Whitaker does an internal medicine rotation in PTMC (S1E15). He is in his fourth year of medical school. Javadi is in her third year of medical school at the University of Pittsburgh*** (S1E01).

September 2025 - This is when season 1 takes place (S1E06, Shelby Adamson’s thank you note says “five short years ago” was Adamson’s death, which occurred in 2020). Melissa King begins her second year of residency after two months at a Veterans Affairs hospital (S1E01). Trinity Santos begins her internship at PTMC (S1E01).

July 2026 - Season 2 is set on the Fourth of July weekend, ten months after season 1.

Season 1 takes place over the course of fifteen hours of the same day. It occurs on an odd day (S1E02), a Friday (S1E15), and in September (S1E12, break room calendar; season 2 is set 10 months ahead in July). I think this places the date of season 1 as September 5th or September 19th. For the purposes of this timeline, season one is treated as occurring in September 2025. The evidence is as follows:

On YouTube, there is a trailer titled “The Pitt | Official Trailer | Max” (link) with a deleted scene where Collins says to Robby that Adamson’s death was “five years ago today”. We know the death occurred in 2020, so that makes it 2025.

In episode 6, when Shelby Adamson, Adamson’s sister, sends a thank you note to the ER staff, her letter also says it has been five years. A transcription of the note: “To the ER Staff of PTMC, As my brother would have done, I think of you all today. Sending this as a token of thanks for all that you do and all that you did for Monty, five short years ago. With love, Shelby Adamson”

Then, we have that patient in episode 10 who gets hit in the eye playing baseball. He says he is 16 and he was born on December 7th, 2008. This would only make it 2024 if it were December, but it is not.

Finally, Noah Wyle said at the FYC panel recently that season 2 is intended to be set on the Fourth of July weekend, on the 250th anniversary of the US, which makes it July 2026.

*When given the age of a character, I give two possible years the character was born to accommodate for the fact that their birthday may not have passed yet. So, for example, Cassie McKay says she is 42. If we treat season one as being set in September 2025, she is at the latest born in September 1983 if her birthday just passed and she just turned 42. However, it may be the case that her birthday has not passed in the calendar year yet (like Santos, who is a Scorpio and therefore has a birthday sometime in late October to mid-November). This means she can at the earliest be born in September 1982 (say, late September), and turn 43 shortly after the events of season one. I use similar logic for events that happen at a certain age (Mohan’s dad’s death when she was 13 - she could have just turned 13 or turned 14 later that year; same with Javadi and the year she began attending college).

**Here is the general timeline of training that I used to make the timeline. (Information concerning the American medical school system is compiled from cursory Google searches and browsing sources such as the National Resident Matching Program [NRMP] and Accreditation Council for Graduate Medical Education [ACGME]. Please be advised that there may be errors and variations may exist. I am not in the medical field, so do correct me!) Following the completion of medical school, new doctors generally begin their residency programs on July 1. The emergency medicine residency program at Pittsburgh Medical Trauma Center is a four-year program: R1 (interns), R2, R3, and R4. I am assuming all of the attendings and residents who we know did/are doing their residencies at PTMC immediately matched after four years of medical school and began their residencies in the emergency department in the July following graduation unless otherwise stated.

***In real life, I only found one medical school in Pittsburgh (the other school in the area confers D.O.), the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine (Javadi says she attends Pitt in S1E10). Does Whitaker also attend Pitt? I guess we don’t know if there is another made-up medical school in Pittsburgh until season 2?

[barkingandrotting]

seeing new fans of the passenger following me is intimidating because… if i went off about the subtleties of this goddamn movie that i’ve been coming up with a thesis on i would look INSANE.

like the yellow, green, blue, and purple symbolism. the name marsha being used. the way everyone at bbb wears their work uniforms in a way that represents their character without saying anything. the colour of randy’s car. the cardigan being darker and greener than other yellows. the fact that the movie definitely takes place in 2007 or 2009 post-katrina. the way sheppard is wearing all three of the main colours. the way ms beard wearing pastel purple means something. the fact that she’s painting her house means something. even down to benson having an orange rag in his back pocket at bbb.

it’s all so intentional and even on my 200th rewatch, i’m still noticing things.

carter smith, the director you are.