#some are still there and it's been ~8 months

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 20

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17 || PART 18 || PART 19

Chrissy is willing to admit that when Steve doesn’t call her after his date, she panics. If her mom wasn’t such a light sleeper, she would’ve snuck out to check up on him. But instead, she wallows, dozing on the couch, not even able to call Jeff to bitch because what if Steve chooses that moment to call?

So, she can admit, when he finally calls a few minutes after seven in the morning, she’s a little short with him.

“Finally, Steven,” she hisses into the phone, keeping her voice quiet so as not to alert her mother to their conversation. “I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he rushes out, sounding contrite. “We sort of fell asleep.”

Chrissy gasps, a smile slowly spreading on her face as the implications set in. “You guys slept together?” she demands gleefully.

“We didn’t have sex!” he shouts, and she’s glad, for the first time, that his parents are so absent from his everyday life. “We just fell asleep!”

She’s still smiling, twirling the phone cord round and round her fingers. “Does that mean it went well?” she wheedles.

She doesn’t think that Eddie would suddenly realize he’s straight and renege on the date, not really, but Steve had, and she can’t get the terrified tone of his voice out of her head.

“Well—” he drawls, leaving her on tenterhooks for a few seconds more. “He took me to see some shitty horror movie.”

“Oh my god,” she whispers, full-on grinning now. “What a stereotypical move.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he replies so wryly that she can almost see the way his eyes must be rolling. “Except he barely talked to me the whole time and didn’t even try to hold my hand.”

“No!”

“And then he took me into the woods like some sort of serial killer, and then tried to kiss me so abruptly that my lip split a little.”

“No!” she shrieks with laughter before catching herself and slapping a palm over her own mouth as Steve’s own amused chuckle filters through the phone line. “And you still spent the night?”

“He was nervous!” Steve defended. “And besides, the second kiss was much better.”

“Your boy’s a fast learner, huh?”

Steve hums, and she wishes he was here with her, so she could see the dopey grin that must be on his face as he says, “yeah,” with a dreamy sigh. “He took me stargazing.”

Chrissy coos, can’t help it, not when this whole thing’s been building for so long now. Not when there’s been an edge of fear to everything Steve’s said for months. He deserves something nice for once.

“And you’re going out again?”

“Oh, definitely,” he replies, and a knot of fear she’s had tucked beneath her sternum loosens.

He sounds excited, happy, hopeful. If Eddie does anything to jeopardize this, Chrissy will be digging a very deep hole and tossing him into it. She’s got a shovel, and the muscle strength built up from years of cheer—she’ll manage just fine.

So, when Eddie walks up to her in the cafeteria in some sort of fucked up parallel to that first time and bends at the waist in a showy bow, hand outstretched as he asks, “a word, madam?” she’s ready to kill him.

But, when she glances at Steve at her side, his ears are red, and he’s smiling up at Eddie from beneath his lashes. And when she looks back toward Eddie she catches the tail-end of a wink that has Steve sputtering.

Even Jason doesn’t protest from the other side of the table where he’s quietly seething.

So, she takes his hand and follows him out of the cafeteria.

Eddie doesn’t seem to know where he’s going, as he walks through the halls, peering into nooks and crannies until he finds a corner he deems suitably vacant enough. He flops down, legs outstretched in front of him, uncaring of the dirt caking the floor.

He pats the spot next to him, smiling up at her, so she slides down the wall and crouches beside him, unwilling to let her bare legs touch the floor.

Eddie leans away from the wall and wrestles his jacket off before placing it on the floor in front of Chrissy. Gratefully, she sits atop it, crossing her legs to keep them safe. She turns her body so she’s facing Eddie dead on, and he follows her lead.

When he doesn’t say anything, she breaks the silence with a quiet, “I hope you know that if you hurt my friend, I’ll kill you.”

“I have no doubt, Lady Cunningham,” Eddie replies, drawing an X across his heart with his finger. “But, I’m not here to talk about Steve.”

“Then—what?”

He’s grimacing now, no longer meeting her eyes as he fiddles with his rings, one of his fingers bizarrely missing its usual adornment. “We’re friends, right?” he asks hesitantly, like he’s choosing each word with deliberate care.

“Of course,” she replies, eyes trained on the little furrow between his brows. He’s picking at a hole in the knee of his jeans, further fraying the edges. “Why would you ask that?”

He sighs, slumping into himself in a way that makes him look small. “I’m glad I’m here, okay?” he asks, not waiting for her to answer before he continues. “Steve’s great, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. But, you still lied to me—"

"We never lied to you," she cuts in, and he waves his hand in assent.

"Yeah, yeah, but you all like, conspired behind my back, and that feels…”

“Shitty,” she continues for him when he seems to lose his words.

“Yeah! Shitty, it feels shitty that you were all talking about me behind my back all so you could keep this from me."

Chrissy sighs. She’d known they’d have to talk about it eventually–clear all this stale air so they could move on–but it doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. But, he’s right; no matter their intentions, they’d all made a mess of things. She’d known that even as she’d been in the thick of it.

So, she starts where these things should always start, and looks him dead in the eye as she says, “I’m sorry.”

He finally looks up, seeming almost surprised. “Just like that?”

“Yes, Eddie, just like that,” she replies, maintaining eye contact even as her gut squirms. “We were just trying to protect each other, but that doesn’t mean it was the right choice.”

His eyes are wide, still shocked, and she wonders, something uncomfortably close to pity bubbling up within her, if he’s not used to receiving apologies at all.

“Both of you?” he asks.

Chrissy averts her gaze, mouth twisting up. “You know how Steve said Jason has been kind of stalkery?” she asks, watching Eddie nod out of the corner of her eye before she continues. “Well, it was worse before. He kept coming to my house and cornering me at school, and I just wanted to move on.”

It was more than that, though. She still remembers the way fear crept down her spine as cold sweat when she’d opened her door to Jason smiling at her like they’d never broken up, the way her throat had closed up when he’d scooted far too close to her side at the lunch table.

The way he kept cornering her in the hallway when no one was around to witness it. 

“So, when I found Steve trying to write that first letter, I struck a deal,” she continues. She feels bad about that, even now, even still. “He’d be my boyfriend, and I’d help him with the letters.”

She finally turns back to Eddie, braced for, what? Condemnation? But he’s squinting at her like she’s a puzzle he’s trying to crack as he says, “you totally would have helped him anyway,” with so much conviction that it warms her. 

“Oh, definitely.”

He’s still looking at her, but he’s smiling at her, eyes warmer than she’s ever seen them. 

“Alright, I forgive you,” Eddie says, like it’s easy.

It’s too easy. 

“Just because we had reasons doesn’t mean it was fair to you,” she replies, steel in her voice as she squares her shoulders and looks at him dead on. “It doesn’t mean you weren’t hurt,” she finishes, reaching out to pat his knee.

He doesn’t jerk away, just looks at her hand on his knee with a peculiar smile on his face. “You know there was a time when you touching me like that would’ve sent me into a tizzy,” he says, still looking down at her hand.

“And now?”

“Nothing,” he replies, shrugging. “It was never you, Chrissy Cunnigham.”

“You either, Eddie Munson,” she replies, matching his smile as she smacks his hand once before withdrawing. “Now is that it, or was there something else you needed?”

He looks away, cheeks darkening to a blotchy red, she’s almost worried he’ll faint. “I, uh, well, the jacket?”

She thinks of Eddie’s jacket beneath her first, but that’s not where he’s looking. His eyes are planted firmly on the sleeve of Steve’s letterman with a sort of longing that’s almost funny in its intensity.

She doesn’t ask any follow up questions—if he wants the jacket, he can have the jacket. After all, it’s Steve’s no matter how attached to it she’s become, and Steve had looked up at him with the sappiest look she’s ever seen on his face.

She’d do more than give up his letterman to keep him happy.

Still, it feels strange when she pulls it off her back. A shiver runs through her–she feels almost naked without its familiar weight. 

Since that first day in the library, it’s been her shield against Jason’s pushy advances, and her reminder that, no matter what happens, she’d still have Steve. 

But, Jason’s backed off, and everywhere she turns, she sees her people: Steve, yes, but Jeff, and Eddie, and the Hellfire boys–even Robin. Her life’s full to bursting in a way that it’s never been before. 

Chrissy will miss it, but she doesn’t need it anymore. Besides, she knows where Steve keeps his spare key, and she’s not above stealing something else from his closet. 

“Jeff’s going to be sad,” she says, patting the bundled fabric in her arms like it’s a favored family pet, feeling strangely choked up. “He really liked it.”

Eddie grimaces down at it and asks, “do I need to get this thing dry cleaned?”

Chrissy throws her head back and laughs. “No, but if you would’ve waited a few more days, you might have.”

He makes a gagging noise, but when she holds it out for him, he readily takes it, even if he doesn’t put it on. She wonders if it’s fear of homophobes or the thought of her and Jeff’s bodily fluids that stops him. She’s polite enough not to ask, even as Eddie says, “Wait, is it you wearing it or him that Jeff likes?”

She opens her mouth to reply, ready to offer up a vague “both,” but Eddie holds up his hand and cuts her off, talking quickly like he’s afraid of what she might say. “Wait, don’t tell me. I really, really don’t need to know.”

Chrissy springs to her feet and picks Eddie’s own leather jacket up off the floor and sliding it on. It’s even baggier than Steve’s was on her, clearly designed for layering. “I’m borrowing this,” she says, turning her back on him and making her way toward her next class just as the warning bell rings. “It’s cold today.”

“Don’t do any weird sex things with it!” Eddie calls.

She laughs again, making a point to neither confirm nor deny her intentions no matter what he yells after her retreating back.

When Jeff slides into her passenger seat after school, he quirks a brow at her new look, and asks, “that Eddie’s?” as he buckles his seatbelt.

“He wanted Steve’s,” she says, reaching out to pat his knee consolingly.

“I’m going to miss that jacket,” Jeff sighs, looking genuinely forlorn for a second before he gets a particular gleam in his eye that Chrissy’s becoming increasingly familiar with. “You know—”

“Eddie requested that we don’t ‘do any weird sex things’ with his jacket,” she cuts in, putting her car in reverse and slowly backing out of the spot.

Jeff groans like he’d been shot, and throws his head back into the headrest. She reaches out to dig her fingernails into his knee, just this side of too-hard so his groan shifts into a hiss.

“I know, baby,” she says, smiling sweetly at him as they pull away from the school. “But, I’ll get your mind off it in no time.”

Jeff gulps, and doesn’t utter another complaint for the rest of the night.

***

Robin watches Chrissy follow Eddie out of the cafeteria. Even after the door closes behind them, she keeps staring, wanting desperately to know what they’re talking about. This might have all started because of her crush on Chrissy, but Robin’s nosy at heart, so even as the flames of her crush burn down to embers, she wants to know.

Steve had called her on Saturday, spilling all the details of what sounded like a truly horrible date as if it was some sort of fairy tale while Robin cackled in his ear. But he’d sounded buoyant with exhilaration, and all Robin had been able to think about was that he’s like her and he’s happy.

Maybe there’s hope for her, too.

Robin’s broken out of her reverie by a shoulder bumping into hers. “Should we help him?” Vickie whispers, and it takes Robin a minute to snap her eyes away from her vibrant green eyes to follow her gaze over to Steve.

All the losers he’s still pretending to be friends are jeering at him, Tommy H. going so far as to slip into Chrissy’s vacant seat so he can jostle Steve around with a decidedly unfriendly look on his face while Steve picks halfheartedly at his lunch.

Robin’s out of her seat before she can even think about it, palms slapping noisily on the table as she calls. “Harrington!” Steve perks up, metaphorical tail wagging as he meets her eyes from across the room. “Come help me win a bet!”

He’s up and out of his seat in a matter of seconds, leaving the remains of his lunch abandoned on his table as he trots over, slipping into the empty seat across from her while all the other band kids look at him like he’s got the plague.

“What’s the bet?” he asks, looking far more relaxed already than he had while surrounded by his supposed friends.

Robin kicks him under the table as she replies, “the bet was whether you’d come when you’re called.”

“Oh, hardy har har,” he mocks, kicking her right back until she links both her feet around his ankle and yanks him so he damn near falls off his seat.

“Poor little puppy,” she coos, reaching across the table to pat his head while he bats her hand away.

Vickie’s laughing from beside her; it rings through Robin’s ears like church bells. She gets stuck, staring at the pink of her cheeks, the red of her hair, the mirth in her emerald green eyes, hand still outstretched toward Steve’s hair.

He kicks her again, and she snatches her hand back, grateful for the intervention until she catches sight of the knowing look Steve’s shooting her. In retaliation, she grabs one of her carrot sticks and tries to shove it down his throat.

“Not a word, Harrington, or we’re through,” she hisses, finally succeeding in shoving the carrot into his mouth.

“You guys are so funny,” Vickie says, still laughing.

Steve smiles, carrot sticking out of his mouth like it’s a cigar until he bites into it with a snap, seeming oddly satisfied.

Chrissy and Eddie don’t come back, and by the time lunch is over, the rest of the band kids have finally stopped sitting there like scared lemmings, waiting for King Steve Harrington to attack. She’s sure they’ll soon learn what Robin already knows: the king is dead, long live the king.

She loves him so much, it’s almost stupid.

“So, Steve Harrington, huh?” Vickie asks, inexplicably walking out of the cafeteria with her even though Robin knows for a fact her class is on the opposite side of the school.

“I mean, yeah?” Robin replies, feeling her face heat from the inside out. “He’s just like, not what I was thinking at all, and maybe the best friend I’ve ever had, which is crazy—it’s crazy, because it’s Steve Harrington, right?” Her hands, she realizes with horror, are miming an explosion above her head while her mouth makes a weird, crackling explosion sound. “Who would’ve guessed?”

When she finally gets her mouth flapping under control, Vickie’s smiling at her, walking close enough that the sleeve of her sweater brushes against Robin’s bare arm.

“I don’t know, I always thought he seemed nice.”

Robin’s nodding along like one of those bobble head hula girls that boys are always putting in their cars, even though Steve Harrington isn’t nice. He’s an unmitigated bitch with a sacrificial streak a mile wide, but he’s not nice.

“He’s like a stray that I let into my house one time, and then my mom fed him, so now he keeps following me home,” her mouth says.

Vickie’s mouth laughs in return, so maybe it’s not all that bad.

Robin’s mind replays the angelic sound as she walks into her class, waving goodbye to Vickie as the other girl rushes away in a mad dash to make it on time to her next class.

God, Steve’s going to be such a bitch about this.

 ***

After Eddie’s talk with Chrissy, things shift.

Steve doesn’t sit with the jocks at all anymore. He and Chrissy, still joined at the hip like they really are dating, shift back and forth between the band geeks and the hellfire tables at lunch on Tuesday, prompting hushed whispers to filter through the entire cafeteria.

For his part, all Gareth says is, “does this mean you two’s weird feud over Chrissy is finally over?”

Jeff snorts chocolate milk out of his nose while Eddie laughs so hard he nearly falls off the bench entirely, only staying upright because Steve props him up.

“What?” Gareth demands, tearing into his chicken strips with a viciousness that betrays his ire.

“They’ll tell you when you’re older,” Doug replies despite having no idea himself.

Eddie loves his friends so fucking much.

By Wednesday, a clearly fed up Robin frog-marches the pair of them to the Hellfire table and plops down beside them.

“Munson, I can’t do this split custody thing anymore,” she says, making the red-head that’d followed her over giggle. “They’re too much of a handful.”

“Or maybe even two handfuls,” Steve replies, across the table at her like he’s not playing the most overt game of footsie right below it.

“Don’t be gross, dingus,” she scoffs, and Eddie’s mind goes galloping off with thoughts he shouldn’t be having in a room full of teenagers just waiting to push someone a few more rungs down the ladder.

“Are you guys coming back to Hellfire?” Gareth asks, clearly unable to stand not knowing what’s going on a second longer.

Steve looks at Eddie, brown eyes devastating beneath his lashes. “I’d like to.”

Eddie opens his mouth, ready to grovel at Steve’s feet to get him to come, to get him to keep looking at him like that, but then Robin cuts in with a sly, “you know this means you’ll have to come to Steve’s basketball games,” and he slams his mouth shut.

Steve grins, all seduction dropping off his face as he reaches across the table to give Robin a high five like they’re already on the fucking court. She slaps his palm hard enough that the sound of skin on skin damn-near shatters the sound barrier.

“We can sit together,” Jeff says, but he’s not even looking at Eddie, eyes trained on Chrissy’s blushing face. “It’ll be fun.”

Eddie groans and lets gravity overtake him, dropping his head to the table so suddenly that it would have hurt if Steve hadn’t put his palm over the spot just in time. Eddie turns his face so he can glare up at the other boy, but Steve looks so hopeful and excited that he has to look away again, burying his face into Steve’s palm.

“Fine, I’ll go,” he drawls, lips brushing against Steve’s hand with each word.

“What the hell is happening?” Gareth demands.

Much to his dismay, no one replies.

Things slide back to normal after that—Chrissy and Steve showing up to band practice and hellfire and lunch like nothing had ever come between them. But, it’s better now because Steve knocks their feet together beneath tables, and lets his hands settle on knees and stares just a little too long at Eddie’s lips.

It’s driving him crazy; he wants to reach out and touch, reach out and take.

But that’s not something that’s allowed. Boys are born in their own, invisible bubbles to keep them from touching other boys. Eddie doesn’t know how he never noticed it before, but he wants to shatter it like glass, let it cut up his feet if it means he can brush his lips against Steve’s.

There are all these rules left unwritten, but flung at their feet like slurs: don’t stand too close, don’t look too long, don’t dare to touch.

He wants to, though, thinks maybe in the confines of Gareth’s garage and behind the closed doors of the drama room he could, and it would be safe.

But they live in Hawkins, Indiana, and he’d like to live long enough to get the hell out of here.

So he lets their feet tangle beneath tables and doesn’t lean across them to have a taste, no matter how often Steve licks his lips.

Friday can’t come soon enough.

***

Robin’s been twitchy for days by the time she pulls Steve into their bathroom stall. He follows her dutifully, only laughing a little as she pulls a towel out of her backpack and lays it down before sitting on the floor.

“You plan this, Birdie?” he asks, settling across from her, the towel beneath them insulating him from the cold that’s seeping up from the floor.

Robin’s face turns a blotchy red like a blood vessel burst and dispersed beneath her skin. “Boobies,” she blurts, staring at him with beseeching eyes before she slaps her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

Steve nods, his attempt at sage wisdom undercut by the way he has to bite his lip to stop from laughing at her. “Boobies, yes,” he chokes out. “I’ve, uh, heard of them.”

That’s all it takes for Robin to kick out at him. When her foot gets dangerously close to his crotch, Steve grabs her ankle and cradles her foot in his lap, rubbing the bone.

“Don’t make fun of me!” she whines, still trying to kick him.

“Okay, okay!” he cries out, chuckling as he holds onto her leg for dear life. “Sorry, just—what’s this about boobies?”

“Stop saying boobies!”

Steve uses his free hand to lock up his mouth and toss the invisible key into the toilet, smiling as the blush on Robin’s cheeks creeps up her nose and onto her forehead until she resembles an especially square tomato.

“Vickie—”

And Steve can’t help it, he really, really can’t. “Has nice boobies?” he cuts in, already grabbing at both her legs to stop her jackrabbiting feet from finally landing a blow to his balls.

“I hate you!” Robin shrieks, but even she’s laughing now as she writhes atop the towel, scrunching it as she earth-worm-inches closer to him so she can slap at his ribs while he’s defenseless. “Steve Harrington, you’re the worst thing that ever happened to me!”

She tries to say it with conviction, but Steve’s hands have crept beneath her crew socks, and his fingers are tickling against the inside arch of her foot, so her words come out more as shaky exhalations of laughter. He wiggles his fingers as she squirms away, kicking out with such reckless abandon that one of her feet breaks free and kicks him far too high on his inner thigh for comfort.

“Get your boy cooties off me!” she demands, and he does, pulling his hands out of her socks as she backs away until she’s leaning against the opposite side of the wall again, pouting at him. “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies, feeling lighter than air. “Now tell me about Vickie’s girl cooties.”

Robin smiles bashfully, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them. “Vickie doesn’t have cooties,” Robin replies, gaze distant. She looks wistful, enamored, hopeful. “She walked me to class the other day, even though I know it made her late.”

“Yeah?” Steve prompts, helpless to do anything but to smile back.

“Yeah,” she replies. “And maybe it’ll be like Chrissy again, you know? But you and Eddie…” Robin kicks out at him again, nudging her foot into his and then leaving it there, their soles pressed together. “Maybe there’s more of us out there than I thought.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, absolutely in love with brave, hopeful, honest Robin, here in this stall, in this moment. “Maybe there are.”

They smile at each other, two queer kids in the bathroom together, seeing themselves in each other, again, and again, and again. Steve hopes they’ll always be like this, here, on the bathroom floor, finding hope in each other’s smiles. He has Chrissy, and Jeff, and Eddie now, too. But, Robin will always be the first person who looked at him and made him feel seen.

“We should get married,” he says, not thinking about it before it comes out of his mouth and hangs in the air between them, making Robin’s eyes bug out of her skull. “Just think about it! Eddie and I can’t get married, and neither can you and Vickie—”

“You’ve literally gone out with the guy once, and we don’t even know if Vickie likes girls yet—”

“—but we could totally just marry each other instead!”

The silence of the bathroom rings once Steve’s declaration is out there. Robin swallows, throat bobbing, eyes wide enough that Steve can see the little red veins near the back. Suddenly, Steve wonders if he’s stepped over some line he didn’t even know was there.

Before he can spiral too far, Robin launches herself across the space between them, knees bracketing Steve’s hips as she leans over and bites his shoulder, hard.

“Ow, Robin!”

“You’re insane, Dingus, you know that?” she asks, moving away from his shoulder to plant a kind of wet kiss against his forehead. “I’m sixteen, and you’re proposing in the boy’s bathroom.”

She rubs her hand against his head, likely fucking his hair up beyond repair, but he doesn’t even care because she kisses him again, this time on the top of his head.

“I meant like, later?” Steve says shyly.

He’s always fallen hard and fast, knows that about himself. It’s a fundamental law of the universe: gravity makes things fall down, the earth’s always spinning on an axis, and Steve Harrington puts his whole heart into people who don’t always give it back.

But Robin’s on his lap, kissing his head, and leaking what’s either snot or tears into his hair. “Alright,” she warbles, sounding embarrassingly soggy. “When I get a girlfriend, we can just be permanent beards for each other.”

Steve puts his arms around her and hugs her tight, mashing his face awkwardly into her neck as she laughs. “Grow old in separate bedrooms,” he replies.

“Gotta keep our cooties separate,” she says, like she’s not currently dripping on him on the floor of the boy’s grimy bathroom.

He just squeezes her tighter and gives her a little shake, like a dog with its favorite toy. “Tell me about Vickie,” he demands, but it sounds a whole lot like I love you when it comes from his mouth.

“Okay,” she replies, and it sounds a lot like I love you, too.

[drop-dead-dropout]

🤿 squiblybeakers77 sep 30 2024

hey guys so apparently my house has had black mold for the past 11 years 👍

🤿 squiblybeakers77 sep 30 2024

i've been living with my girlfriend for the last month or so and most of my symptoms are gone now, doctor said i'll be fine with some rest and nose spray. oh also btw i'm a guy now. crazy

#sadly mold exposure is not fixable via testosterone injection #i'm still doing it though uhhhh just in case #.txt

🤿 squiblybeakers77 oct 8 2024

I Know I Just Got Done Beating The Allegations But Hear Me Out: a comprehensive guide to why i think marina from off the hook is secretly an octoling

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🧡 miss-tenta-missles oct 11 2024

lol. lmao even

🤿 squiblybeakers77 oct 11 2024

GUYS STOP I'M SERIOUS ABOUT THIS ONE I'M NOT DELUSIONAL I SWEAR

🪻yokoandthegoldbisexuals oct 13 2024

🔫 z3nzOnes oct 16 2024

personally i already knew about this theory and believed in it but the fact that it's being cosigned by Turquoise October Is A Government Plant guy is really making me second guess myself

🤿 squiblybeakers77 oct 18 2024

every1 is so mean 2 me alexa play buoyant boogie

#IM NORMAL NOW I SWEAR 💔💔💔

🤿 squiblybeakers77 aug 25, 2014

how many times do I have to tell you guys octarians don't exist anymore. the army literally killed all of them in the great turf war you're not going to get a hot octoling gf they're fucking extinct

🍤 woomy-mother-fuckers aug 30, 2014

op your bio says you listen to turquoise october

🤿 squiblybeakers77 aug 30, 2014

yeah cause it's a bop. not made by octarians tho, it's a coverup to keep us from questioning it.

⭐ tetradualies-trash mar 8, 2024

guys I found this gem from like a decade ago. aged very well I think

🐡 OutFishing mar 16, 2024

is this person real... @squiblybeakers77 were you created in a lab I don't understand you

🦐 NOBODYTOUCHMYFISHFRYS mar 19, 2024

and here we have the legendary squibly, who fought valiantly against Big Octo's lies and also didn't bother to take the fifteen minute bus ride to mt nantai where you could've literally seen octolings patrolling the outside of octo canyon. truly a warrior of the people,

🔫 z3nz0nes mar 20, 2024

"turquoise october isn't actually octolings".... THE LYRICS ARE IN OCTARI??? A WHOLE ASS DIFFERENT LANGUAGE?????

🦐 NOBODYTOUCHMYFISHFRYS mar 20, 2024

zen you don't understand. obviously Big Octo created a fake language to keep us complacent

🌷 burst-bombs-are-gay mar 25, 2024

omg why didn't u guys tell me my wife went extinct in 2014 😔😔😔 @yokoandthegoldbisexuals I miss u already babe 💔

#also loving the implication that Big Government was like #"hey we need to fake some stuff for this octo thing" #and the best idea they could come up with was... leaving an unlabeled cd in a dumpster???? #granted the later ones had labels but like. that's absolutely insane what do you MEAN

(3,610,857 notes)

[plethorawrites]

Would the Bat boys date someone older or younger?

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Bruce Wayne: Younger. I feel like this man needs someone younger than him to balance out how old he sometimes feels. He likes how easy it is to impress you and how excited you get over his stories or the "simple" acts like a five star dinner or 12 course meal. He likes how bubbly and energetic you are because living in Gotham hasn't completely sucked the life out of you the way it has to most people his own age. The media isn't surprised to find out he's going out with someone in their mid to early 20's, it's honestly expected but only a few people realize how genuine it is. That it's not because of the thrill of being with someone half his age that makes him love being with you, it's the gratification of finding someone so much purer, who reminds him of what his mission is really about— keeping people like you safe.

---

Tim Drake: Older. He wouldn't necessarily seek it out, or reject anyone his own age, but those relationships would definitely fall apart because he always felt some kind of disconnect. He would gravitate towards someone of more maturity who would take care of him, who he could be the little spoon with and have his hair stroked by or his tie (when he had to wear one) straightened. He had been forced to grow up fast, and was naturally to someone 6 or 7 years older at least, if not more. He knows being seen with you would make a splash and going out to public would make things way worse, but he doesn't care if the media calls him a 'cub' nearly as much as it bothers him when they say he has 'mommy issues' of when they call you a 'cougar' for going out with him.

---

Dick Grayson: Either. He honestly doesn't care about age, he'll find a way to play it up either way. This man wants to lord over you the fact that he's older than you. He likes knowing he has more life experience than you and that he can take care of you. You just have to deal with him always claiming seniority. But! If you're older, that's fine too. He can't wait to be your arm candy, to tease you for going after someone younger and playfully call you a 'mature older partner.' When the media finds out, no one is surprised. No one so much as comments on the age difference because he's his father's son and dating someone with a 8 year age gap isn't unexpected

---

Jason Todd: Younger. If he had an older partner, he would feel babied and that already happened enough with his family. But someone a couple years younger, maybe by three or four makes him feel younger too. Like being with you gives him back the time that was stolen from him when he was dead. He likes how sweet and kind you are, how easy it is to make you laugh. He fears, sometimes, how dark the city is compared to you and tries his best to shield you from it. But you can handle a bit of darkness, when it's from him.

---

Damian Wayne: The same age. He would refuse anyone younger and couldn't stand anyone older. The same age. You need to be born in the same year as him, at least. Preferably with six months, just to make the difference as small as possible. He'll still want to technically be older, though, so in every argument he can mention it. You're at the same stage in life, he likes that you seem headed in the same direction, that you'll (eventually) grow old together and neither of you will be without the other for long since you'll probably pass away in a similar time frame too. He likes that nothing either of you say is outdated to the other and never will be. He likes that he doesn't have to teach you and doesn't feel like you're trying to teach him. You're simply learning about life together.

[thoughtfulfiction]

Little Duckling

Author’s note: reposting my old work on this side blog! Let me know if you’d like to read a specific one. Thank you for reading!

Warning: pregnancy and childbirth

Saturday 10pm

Justin had been asleep for almost two hours as you folded laundry and put it away in the nursery. Your induction was scheduled for Monday morning promptly at 8am and everyone within the Chargers organization knew that this was happening because your husband absolutely hated taking the day off. But this was understandably a special exception to the rule. You’d spent the last 9 months mentally and physically preparing yourself for this moment but the idea of having a human being relying on you for everything was still such a daunting task that you almost wished the day wouldn’t come. Not until you felt completely prepared at least.

And then the ache in your back and hips reminded you that your baby girl was quickly running out of room and would be making her entrance soon, whether you and your husband were ready or not. On the bright side, your stomach had dropped significantly in the last few days, allowing you to breathe easier and for Justin to poke fun at your pronounced waddle. He affectionately started calling you Mumble last week, from Happy Feet. The dad jokes were coming in strong.

You heaved yourself out of the chair you were parked in and were headed off to bed before a slight pain wrapped itself around the base of your stomach. The pressure moved from the back to the front, settling on a spot underneath your belly button. You stopped walking and used the wall to support yourself, rubbing small circles around the area until it passed. As a Braxton-Hicks veteran, you continued your trek to the bedroom, completed your nighttime routine and headed off to bed.

Sunday 2am

It happened again. The slight twinge of discomfort had you holding your breath for about 15 seconds before letting go and you had to take several deep breaths to recover. After a few minutes everything was normal again and you had to turn around to make sure that Justin was still asleep next to you. Throughout your pregnancy he’d become a much lighter sleeper, often waking up at ungodly hours to get you snacks or a few nights when you caught him talking to your belly, whether it was talking about the playbook or just telling her he couldn’t wait to meet her, it warmed your heart just the same. But you were thankful for now that he just missed that entire exchange because you were definitely not in labor…right?

Sunday 7am

You were definitely in labor. On a Sunday, when the Chargers were playing the Broncos at home. Of course. You’d experienced three contractions so far, just about four hours apart so you had plenty of time. There was no way in hell you were telling Justin. As soon as it was appropriate, you scooted yourself out of bed and went down to the home gym for some prenatal yoga and a good stretch, hoping it would provide a boost of positive energy. Then you hopped in the shower, allowing the warm water would relax your tense muscles and maybe help you delay the inevitable.

By 8:30 Justin was awake and making breakfast for the two of you while you sat on the couch watching New Girl. He brought your plate and a cup of orange juice to you which you were grateful for, but the thought of putting anything but the juice in your body made your stomach turn.

“Are you alright? You’ve barely touched your avocado toast and you’ve been devouring it the last few days.” He ran a gentle hand on your forehead like he was checking your temperature and caressed your cheek when he realized you weren’t abnormally warm. “I can make you something else before I leave if you want?”

“No, I’m fine! Just not hungry yet, I’ll probably eat later.” You lied through your teeth, desperately hoping that he would let it go. The excuse seemed to satisfy him enough for him to head back upstairs to watch some film and get ready. An hour and a half later, he headed downstairs just in time to find you stretching out your back, the cramp beginning to wash over you.

He replaced your hands with his own, slightly lifting your stomach to take the weight off for a bit. “Your stomach is hard as a rock,” he observed furrowing his brows and starting to piece things together. “Are you sure everything is ok?” His soft voice attempted to mask his worry filled words.

“Yeah I’m having a fake contraction, you know they’re so common these days.” You rushed out, attempting to use his extensive research against him. He could probably write his own version of “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” with his newfound pregnancy knowledge. It was both impressive and scary how much he had grown to know what’s going on in your body before you did.

Although he nods his head in understanding, his face is still full of distress. And you could tell he was analyzing your words and tone of voice for any sign that you were lying, leaving you to mentally curse at the fact that he knew you so well and you’d need to work extra hard to convince him to go on like this was a normal day.

Although he let out a deep sigh, he didn’t ask any further questions. “I know, I just hate the thought of you being in pain and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

You tap his wrist so he can slowly drop your belly and you turn around in his arms. “You’re so cute, but it really isn’t that bad. A lot less painful than playing with ankle that’s hanging on by a shoestring I can tell you that.” You chuckle, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back and you felt compelled to return the favor, sensing he too needed some comfort. “Here’s what’s gonna happen today though. You are going to go and kick Denver’s ass then you’re going to come home, we’ll celebrate and then tomorrow you’ll be on your way to being the greatest dad to ever live. How does that sound?”

Justin chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips, nose and forehead. “If I’m half as good a parent as I know you will be, then I know I’ll be golden.”

“Stop it before I start crying, you know I’m super hormonal right now this isn’t fair.” You mumble, tears brimming your eyes. He gives you one last kiss before reminding you to call your friend Dani to stay with you, even though your moms were on their way to your home.

Once he pulled out of the driveway you could relax, letting out a deep sigh and patting your swollen middle. Crisis averted.

For now.

Sunday 12pm

Contractions were officially every hour and Dani was trying her best not to freak out in order not to freak you out. But she was definitely freaking out. What started out as more intense period cramps were becoming a lot sharper, so much so that you couldn’t even focus on Encanto, which was the last sign you needed to know that this was the real thing. You did manage to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and take a nap while she was with you, fluffing your pillows and telling you that you were doing amazing. Three hours later, there was a knock at the door and Dani went to open it for Holly and your mom. The two becoming best friends was probably the cutest thing in the world and your mom had even flown to Oregon three days before just to spend time with Holly and drive to California with her. They were the sweetest. And of course they brought snacks. There were lactation cookies for you in the freezer already but they brought more and they brought an abundance of food to eat during the game, which usually would have made your day, but today all it did was make you want to stick your face in the toilet.

You greeted the two women with hugs as Dani helped set up their spread and they immediately asked how you were feeling.

“I just woke up not too long ago so I’m feeling great now. Very ready to not be pregnant anymore so I can see my f—ohhh wow. Ow.” You groaned, one hand on your contracting belly and the other gripping the counter for dear life.

Dani’s eyes bug out of her head as she moves to rub your back. “That was the roughest one yet.” She was right, this one left your whole body sore, a loud reminder that things were definitely moving along.

“This one?” Your mom questions, looking between you and Dani. Then, she and Holly exchange a look.

“Oh my gosh sweetie, you’re in labor!” Holly exclaims, “we need to get a hold of Justin immediately. I’ll call Mark, I’m sure he’s already at the stadium.”

You cannot shake your head fast enough, “there’s no need to call him yet, that was the first bad one. And this game is important.”

“It’s Justin hun, every game is important,” Holly laughs, giving you a loving squeeze.

“But you know what’s even more important to him? You and that baby girl that’s getting ready to meet us soon. Are you sure you don’t want to tell him now?”

“I’m sure,” you sigh, allowing your mom to guide you back to the couch, sinking down into it with a groan. “Once the game is over he’ll be here and we’ll go have a baby. But not a moment before.”

Admittedly, it was getting harder to focus. Justin was playing great, but of course so was Bo Nix. The Chargers would score and the Broncos would answer. The Broncos would get a stop and the Chargers would force a punt. You were entertained but the battle happening within you was the most interesting one to the people in your house.

Your mom had gone down to find your birthing ball, which helped for about half a quarter, just in time for a Ladd McConkey touchdown to put the Chargers up by 10. By the end of the third you were forced into a squat behind one of the couches, spreading your legs to hopefully ease the increasing pressure on your hips. You breathed through the contraction, the sensation sending a pins and needles feeling near your tailbone. Holly made sure you stayed hydrated, having secretly texted her husband halfway through the fourth quarter when the game was firmly in hand to have their son home as soon as humanly possible. Contractions creeped on 30 minutes apart, leaving you panting and groaning in discomfort until your muscles relaxed.

Fifteen minutes later, you were pacing around the living room and you had to stop to hold onto the couch again, your mom helping you roll your hips as you felt thin beads of sweat building around your hairline. Things were getting real and scary and you needed Justin.

“What time is it?” You murmured, cupping your stomach with a hiss as the baby moved.

“It’s 7:15 and he’s on his way home, baby.” Your mom whispers, sensing your increasing distress, “he’ll be here soon.”

“My back hurts,” you state suddenly, a slight tremble in your voice. “Everything really hurts.”

Your mom grabs at your hips, squeezing them together to apply counter pressure, giving you momentary relief.

Dani was in charge of timing contractions and all you knew was the moment in between them where you could actually form a coherent thought. Time was no longer real. You headed upstairs for some time to yourself and a wave of nausea hit you and you emptied probably everything you’d eaten the entire day, which in hindsight probably wasn’t much. But you weren’t in the headspace to think clearly right now. You walked back towards to the bedroom and clutched the doorway, visibly feeling the heaviness of the baby moving down, almost sending you to your knees if it weren’t for the solid, calming presence that was suddenly in front of you.

“Hey babe.” You breathe out, feeling a little unsure that your legs were capable of holding you up until you could sit on the bed.

He pulled you into his arms as close as your belly would allow and pressed his lips your forehead. “Hi. Glad I could make it back in time. I knew something was off with you this morning,” he narrowed his eyebrows at you when he pulled away, walking you slowly back into the room placing a firm hand on the small of your back, making circles with it while holding your hand with the other. “Alright baby…long have you been in labor?”

You let out a dry laugh at his disappointed dad look. “Since 10 last night I think? But let’s focus on the important things, you played great and you won but man you guys really took a minute to shut the door on ‘em.”

“Right, the important things.” He says with a knowing smile. “I know you love football as much as I do now, but if you told me earlier I would’ve been at your side in a heartbeat. You know that, right?”

God, you hoped your baby had his caring heart. “I do know that, I really do. But I also knew that you’d be able to do both. The Chargers are your family too and—”

A contraction creeped up on you, leaving you to hold onto your husband’s forearms with a sharp sound of pain, the pressure reaching an overwhelming peak that you hadn’t experienced before.

“Squeeze as much as you want, it’s okay.” His voice attempts to soothe you but you couldn’t hear him over the animalistic grunt that escaped you. Your body tensed involuntarily and he could see your stomach hardening as the tension continued to build. There was nothing more he could do than hold you through it, until something gave way and the floodgates opened…literally.

Even he sounded breathless by the end of it. “Your water just broke.”

Sunday 10pm

Contractions in the house were terrible. But contractions in the car, with no cushion from the water bag made it feel like she was right between your legs.

“Justin, you have to go faster. Please.” You panted out, desperately clutching the grab handle and leaning your head back with a loud moan. “Can you turn on the air, I’m dying in here. And I need to put the seat back, my back is killing me, I’m sorry.” You felt like a turtle stuck on its back, waiting for someone to turn it over and set it free.

“Yeah, yeah do whatever you need. And you don’t need to apologize,” he pats you on the leg, “do whatever makes you comfortable, we’ll be there soon.” He kept looking between you and the road, slightly worried that he’d have to deliver the baby in the car. The only thing that slightly reassured him the whole drive was your sigh of relief when the fan came on. First babies were supposed to take a while but he’d missed the entirety early labor, so from the sounds that he was hearing he figured you were in or at the very least extremely close to the transition stage. His grip on the steering wheel tightened and remained that way until the birthing center came into view. Your parents had called ahead and would meet you there when given the word, so all you had to do was check in and you were brought to your private suite.

Seven centimeters dilated and without painkillers made your husband question any football toughness he thought he had. You were so close to meeting your baby and he was a mix of anxiousness, nerves and excitement. Most of all he felt so much love and admiration for your determination and strength. Holding off on telling him you were in labor so he could be there to get the job done with his teammates was one thing and it was a complete whirlwind to be there with you while you worked to bring your baby into the world.

Once he was finally able to tear his eyes off the baby’s heart monitor, all of his focus was back on you. He wasn’t going to say anything but the agony in your voice was really starting to take a toll on him. Months of mental preparation for this moment was nothing like the real thing and he felt utterly helpless, desperately trying to maintain some sort of control and be helpful in any way.

“Honey you’re shaking, are you cold?” Without even giving you time to answer he was up on his feet, reaching for his bag to grab the blanket he’d seen you drape over yourself on several movie night occasions.

You shake your head while your teeth continue to chatter, reaching for his left hand, “I think it’s the adrenaline. I’m okay I promise,” you shift uncomfortably in bed, trying to just go along with how your body is feeling and reacting. Your belly tightens, a white hot pain generating an unexpected moan as you palmed your stomach. Justin places his hand on top of yours, whispering to you that the contraction is almost over and constantly reminding you that you’re doing great.

The two of you decided to use gravity to your advantage and walk around the building since the entire floor was closed off at your husband’s request. He couldn’t risk anyone leaking the most private and cherished moment in his life.

“I can’t believe this is our last night as a duo.” Justin whispers, walking at a snail’s pace while you waddled alongside him. “It’s been a great ride, pal.”

“Wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else. And I have a feeling this ride is going to get a lot more interesting from here on out.” You gave your belly a soothing pat.

He strokes your back as you sway your hips again, “thank you for choosing me to be the one that gets to do this with you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, more than anything in the world.” You grin, pulling him in for a soft kiss. His hand cups your face as he pulls you in even closer. The kiss oozed joy and gratitude. Your husband wasn’t a man of many words, but his actions spoke volumes.

You squeeze his arm again suddenly as pain bubbles deep in your core and you rip yourself away from him to press your lips together to stifle a yell. “We need to get back to the room. Now.”

The noises leaving your body would have horrified you if you weren’t already sitting backwards on the toilet wearing only an oversized t-shirt, with your legs spread and the man of your dreams digging his thumbs into your back. “Harder please,” you groan, feeling like your tailbone is seconds away from shattering.

“I’m not getting a break,” you cry, clenching your jaw, leaning back and asking him to help you up. He hooks his hands under your arms and basically lifts you to your feet. “It’s not stopping, I can’t—oh fuck.” It felt like you were going to throw up, but out of the other end, which could only mean one thing. “She’s—Justin she’s coming right now. I have to push.” You took a breath and focused completely inward, your entire body going rigid, shaky straining sounds of effort pouring out of you.

The quarterback immediately sprang into action,“easy babe, breathe. I’ve got you.”

You held onto one of his hands and moved into a squat on your shaky legs as he pressed the red button on the side of the bathroom door, allowing your midwife to come in.

The baby felt like it was seconds away from falling out, everything suddenly feeling like it was moving a mile a minute. The midwife was saying something but the ringing in your ears was so loud you couldn’t focus on anything but getting your baby delivered.

After another throaty shove, you came back to yourself a little, feeling a gentle hand rubbing your shoulder. “Babe? You gotta slow down. Take a second, I can already see her a little bit you can give yourself some time.”

“I can’t, the pressure is too much!” Tucking your chin to your chest, you let out a yelp as you push again, using him as a solid wall to rest against as you spread your legs to give your baby more room. “Holy fuck your baby is huge,” your husband and the midwife both laugh, “I’m sorry it’s just—this is really hard.”

Pushing felt good, even though it left you shaking like a leaf in a cold and sweaty frenzy. At some point during the delivery he’d pushed your hair back with his lucky headband that was always around his wrist if it wasn’t on his head. It was the most intense experience of your life but you took one look at those bright green eyes and he reminded you that he was with you the entire time and you knew you could do anything with him by your side.

Remington Grace Herbert was born Monday morning at 1:42am with those exact same eyes that you fell in love with.

“Hi Remi,” Justin sobs, kissing her cheek. “We’ve been waiting for you, baby girl.”

“She sure knows how to make an entrance.”

You hand her off to her dad after scooting over to give him more room on the bed. He wraps a free arm around you, securely holding her in his other one, totally in awe. “She’s so perfect. You’re perfect. You did so amazing, I’m so freaking proud of you.” He kisses the side of your head.

You cuddle into him with a content sigh, “Our perfect little duckling is finally here.”

[aniesvision]

𝟑𝟎- 𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

𐂂 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚡 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝'𝚜 𝚎𝚡 𝚐𝚏

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒑, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒕𝒐𝒙𝒊𝒄!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕, 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒇𝒍𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒅𝒌

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅-𝑫𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏. 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 ☕︎

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒆𝒙-𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚

Matt and I had a complicated relationship. We became friends, weeks later he confessed to having feelings and I said I felt the same. We started dating and it lasted exactly eight months until he broke up with me with the excuse "I don't know how to say this, but I don't think I'm ready for a real relationship." He wasn't ready. After 8 months. For a real relationship. So what we had was a lie?

As much as I wanted to punch his face, take his clothes that were with me and set them on fire, expose how much of a terrible person he was, I couldn't. I only managed to isolate myself, and with that, I had to, unfortunately, isolate Nick and Chris from my life as well, after all, they were always together.

It was my first time away from home since Matt and I broke up. It took me two months to work up the courage to get out of bed, get ready, and not cry looking at the mirror. As if my voluntary action of going out wasn't enough, my two college friends found a party at someone's house. They convinced me to go after telling me I would be free to have as many drinks as I wanted. I haven't drunk since I became friends with Matthew, which was a long time ago, so I really needed a drink.

I decided to go, after all, I had already spent so much time lying in tears that feeling like a hottie was all I needed. I rummaged through my wardrobe and found a black dress that made me smile just imagining myself wearing it. I ran to take my shower and wash my hair, deciding to let it dry naturally, and went to do my makeup. I wore the dress, feeling beautiful when I saw my reflection in the mirror. I smiled and put on my white sneakers, completing my look with some accessories.

I took some photos, posted one of them in my story, and ordered an Uber to the address of the house since I intended to drink and did not want to cause an accident if I went by car.

-Hey, you came! - I hear a familiar voice and turn around with a smile.

-Yeah, I wanted to see you guys. -I answer.

With a quick hug at Anna and Lilly, my college friends, I follow them into the party. It was very crowded there and I didn't know how comfortable I could be in that environment. Lilly gave me a shot of tequila and I took it, feeling the taste of alcohol rip through my throat. We found a little space on the couch and threw ourselves in there, talking about random things until I felt my phone vibrate and went to see what it was.

Nick💜

Hi

I don't know if I could say that, but I miss you

I saw you on the couch and wanted to talk to you

Matt didn't come, just me and Chris, if that comforts you in some way

We'll be around, and it would be great to say hi, I still think that you're one of my best friends even if we're not talking anymore

I miss you so much

I read the texts with my heart beating fast, surprised he had reached out, I didn't even know they'd be here.

Nick was always the best friend I could have, Chris was also so important to me. When my relationship with Matt ended and I isolated myself from everything, I didn't give them any chance to contact me, and that made these last two months a mystery of how it could have been for them.

I don't know how that affected Matthew. Or if it affected him in any way. I don't know if he thought about it, if he talked to his brothers, or with friends, if he met new people, if he moved on, if he still thinks about me.

If he wanted to, he would've found a way to fight for me, but he just let me go. It wasn't Nick's or Chris' fault, and it was irresponsible of me to put them in this situation just because I couldn't reason it out sooner and make a less exclusive decision.

Me

Hi Nick, I'm sorry, that's all my fault.

I love you, I love Chris, I shouldn't have pushed you guys away

I'd love to talk, can we meet in the backyard? :)

I waited anxiously for an answer. I told Anna and Lilly I'd be back soon and they just nodded, happy to see I was trying to socialize a bit.

I carefully get up and straighten my dress before walking to the sliding door that leads out to a comfortable garden, with most of the floor being grass, a pool with blue lights on, a few people swimming, and a few benches near the walls. I sat on an empty bench and felt my phone buzz once again. Anxious, I unlock the screen and open the notification.

Nick💜

we're going :)

A smile of relief appeared on my face, but as I remembered the amount of time we spent without talking to each other and all because of me, I began to feel nervous. Did they really still like me? We could still be friends, right? It would be fine even if Matt couldn't be present in the same room as me.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and snap out of my thoughts, lifting my face and meeting Nick's eyes. I get up quickly, hugging him so tightly that I could've broken one of his bones. He runs his hands on my back, only separating us to look at me up and down.

-We have so much to talk about. But first: you look stunning, girl! I loved the dress.

I giggle, feeling my heart beat fast. I was happy that Nick complimented me, he always did it, it gave me a good nostalgia that I still don't know how to deal with it.

-You look amazing, as always. -I reply, earning a huge smile in response.

-Hey, I don't know if you two get it, but I'm still here, you know? -I hear another voice and turn back to face Chris.

I smiled slightly before pulling him into a tight hug as well, to which he returned without even complaining about the force.

-I missed you. -He says, low, in my ear, still hugging me.

-I missed you, too. A lot. -I say, undoing the hug to look him in the eye.

His hair looked longer, the beard had not been done recently, he wore black pants, an orange sweatshirt and a backward hat. Chris wrapped his arm around my shoulders and we sat down on the bench I was on.

We all talked about everything that had happened since my breakup until now. While we were talking, Anna and Lilly showed up and said hi to the boys, as well as leaving a drink and another shot for me in my hands.

-Have fun! -Anna screams before being pulled by Lilly, making me laugh.

-You're drinking? -Nick asks, cautiously.

I knew they didn't like to drink, but they had no problem with friends doing it. I never normally drank. It was rare and when it happened it was just a glass or two, but now I had another idea in my head, especially because it was the first time I was out of my apartment in two months.

-I think tonight is a good night to drink.

I raise the shot with a smirk, showing it to Nick and Chris before chugging it and grimacing at the taste.

-Let's take some photos together. -I suggest, setting the shot glass down on a nearby table and taking my phone out of my pocket.

We took a few selfies and I posted one of them on my Instagram story, tagging the boys.

-So... Why didn't he come? -I was holding myself back from commenting on it, but of course I felt more curious than sad about it. Nick looked at me when I asked, but seeing that I didn't exactly look sad he decided to answer.

-He went out with other friends. -The answer was vague, but I already knew what it meant.

It wasn't just other friends, but okay, that's what I was thinking anyway.

I give him a soft smile in response, not wanting to get into the depth of the subject, and take a few sips of the drink I had received from my friends.

-Let's dance. -I say, getting up when I hear a song I liked and the boys soon follow me.

While moving my body and talking to both of them, I slowly finished my drink and ended up losing the glass at some point, but it didn't matter, I didn't intend to drink more than that.

I was having fun, I missed seeing my friends, I missed dancing, I missed feeling good. And as useless as a party seems to be, the uselessness seemed to be exactly what I needed.

-I'll get some water. -I hear Nick speak in my ear and I nod my head.

I feel my phone vibrate once again and unlock it, seeing that it was a response to my Instagram story. I only had notifications turned on for friends and people I knew, but upon reading the name on my screen my reaction must have changed in the same second.

Matt

That's why Nick's not answering me...

You look beautiful btw

I miss your pretty face

Before I had a chance to respond, I felt a hand on my hip and my phone was taken from my hand. I look at Chris, who smiles as he puts my phone in his pants pocket.

-He may be my brother, but this is a dick move and I will not let you answer. -He says, moving closer and placing both hands on my waist.

I roll my eyes with a little smile and wrap my arms around his neck, knowing he was more than right and I shouldn't pay any attention to Matt now. And besides, why would I care about someone who broke up with me without a good explanation if I had a guy as handsome as Chris around?

Maybe it was the alcohol talking.

-How are you feeling? -He asks, looking at me carefully.

-I don't know, I'm not as bad as I could be, I already felt too sad because of him. I'm actually glad to be here, and I'm glad to see you again. -I answer, allowing myself to take a step forward.

He didn't back down. Where's Nick with his water to try to put some sense in my head? I see a smirk on Chris's face with my words and immediately my focus goes to his mouth. Part of me knew that was wrong, but now that part was way too far.

-I'm glad to see you again, too. And to be honest, I think I'd be a much better boyfriend than him.

His eyes scanned my entire face, stopping to stare at my mouth with a smile that I swore could give me a heart attack at any moment.

-To be honest, I think so too. -My voice comes out a little lower than it should, but high enough that he could hear me even with the sound of the songs.

He lifts one of his hands up to my face and quickly presses his lips against mine. It wasn't long before he deepened it and I felt his tongue on mine, sending shivers down my spine. We kissed for a while until we were interrupted by a nearby scream.

-WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS DOING? -Nick was standing in front of us, mouth open in shock.

Chris just rolls his eyes and I step back, realizing what I had done and feeling a little embarrassed with some people around staring at us. With no response, Nick pulls us out of the party, to a part of the street where the music wasn't so loud.

-Are you guys crazy? He's your ex's brother, you're her ex's brother. Brother. Ex. -Nick says, pointing at me and Chris.

-Dude, relax, Matt may be my brother, but he was a complete asshole to her. Did you know he texted her? She deserves more than that. -Chris answers, making Nick look at us with an expression of disgust and confusion.

-What did he say? -He asks.

I look at Chris, remembering that he had my phone and he soon pulls it out of his pocket, handing it to me to unlock. I show Nick Matt's message, and hear the heavy sigh of the boy in front of me, handing me back my phone. We spent a few seconds in silence until Nick looked at Chris, then at me, and back at his brother.

-Be better. -He says, making the younger one look confused. -Better than Matthew, we'll talk to him later, but if you think you can be better for her, be it.

Chris smiles, looking at me and passing his arm around me.

-I will be. -He answers. Nick loses his seriousness, throwing us a weak smile.

We decided to split an Uber to get back, leaving my address as the first stop. We were talking along the way and when we arrived at my building I said goodbye to both of them with a hug and made my way to my apartment, taking out my phone and seeing the notifications I had received in the meantime.

Matthew Sturniolo

You're joking.

My brother? Seriously? You know he'll never be like me, he'll never make you feel good as I did

Me

Yeah, you're right. He'll never be like you, that's what makes him so much better than you already

Leave me alone, Matt

I sigh, forcing myself to take a shower and rest. Although I was stressed, I didn't feel bad for what I did, much less for seeing that it made Matthew so angry and deep down seeing that he finally felt something because of me was gratifying.

Me and Nick went back to talking to each other every day, as it was before. Chris and I hung out together every weekend for over a month straight and I couldn't get enough of being with him for even a second. We used to get along before everything, but now it was different, and honestly, it was better.

Matt never texted me again. He still saw everything I posted, knew I was with his brothers most of the time, and knew he should take a step back and rethink what he did. It took longer than it should have, but he understood that he did me wrong and that I was fine with someone else, even if that person was in fact his brother.

I didn't get an apology, despite all that. Matt and I saw each other once after all, it was the first time I saw him after breaking up and the first and only time since Chris and I decided to be exclusive and have something serious. It was awkward, and a little quiet, but no fighting, which was enough for me.

Since that party, things have been going well. I felt happy, not only for being with someone new, but for moving on and living my life again.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 ✍︎

➪ @riowritesitall @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @deers4luv @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @faithlia @katie-tibo @monroesturnns @mattnchrisworld @shaquilles-0atmeal @fratbrochrisgf @dayzeandhaze @phimstarz @h3arts4harry @star-yawnznn @asherrisrandom @pip4444chris @sturniolo-fann @beansprout713 @conspiracy-ash @sturnsxbitvh @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @larallott

[sokuly419]

Now that Arcane is done, I’ll share my thoughts as I did with the previous two acts. It won’t be as long probably, but it would feel weird to me to not do one for act 3/Arcane as a whole.

I have some mixed feelings on it like everyone else it seems. Really, I agree that so much more could have been done if they were given a third season. I think it would have been better.

Overall, I loved this act and I loved the whole show. Of course I have some issues with how it played out this time. It was all rushed and crammed. A third season would have done WONDERS. I see those complaints, and I acknowledge them. I also understand not seeing the conversations and growth that happened off screen. I agree that we were robbed of Vi’s arc and her trauma. We were robbed of a Cait and Vi actually rebuilding their relationship. Season 2 was flawed, yes. But I don’t know a show I’ve watched that isn’t. This includes She-Ra too.

They may have fumbled a bit, but I still personally enjoyed it. The lesbians won, there’s some open ends for the other locations they want to explore, and so much more.

Unfortunately I’m already seeing caitvi turn into the catradora wars. I’m not engaging in it. If you call caitvi toxic and not catradora I don’t know what to tell you. That’s my position on it. Y’all can be critical about it, that fine. We don’t have to agree, but I’m not dealing with the arguments and I’m sure not going to involve myself in them. Just like catradora, in my opinion, a lot of growth and redemption arcs took place off screen. It’s a major, major bummer. But these arguments are literally catradora all over again.

At this point, you want a redemption arc? Fanfic is the way to go. I’ve already read some amazing ones. Post canon and dealing with the trauma and losses, exploring Vi’s pit fighting phase, Cait’s redemption/realizations in those 7-8 odd months they were apart, the arguments of the things that happened, the AUs even. Soft fics, smut fics, it’s all there. I’m even writing some myself.

So like… take a collective breath, criticize all you want. But there’s no need to turn this into the catradora/She-Ra wars all over again with all the arguing. People genuinely enjoyed the show. I know I did. I’m sad it’s over but so, so glad it happened.

[askthefamous8]

Even if I haven't been very active lately, 9 years is still pretty significant- happy birthday to the blog!

So like Percy up there I'm gonna do so dome reflecting. This blog's where I've often done that for some reason, but here's the tl'dr for blog related stuff.

• I would like to keep drawing stuff but feeling generally unsure in myself, and I'm wondering if all the years of fandom harrassment have caught up with me • I have one big project in mind, I've been dipping my toe into what I'd need to do it. No spoilers but it was one of the first things I played around with this series, so do with that what you will • If I can keep myself drawing, I want to use more of the original source material since I'm struggling with original ideas. So stuff like redraws, hOpEfULlY even animatics, just like what originally got me so into trains yknow? Because that's fun and sparks joy. And that always goes down a treat with you guys so bonus • As always I appreciate you guys not coming after me for being so inconsistent

The rest of this is me doing what Percy's doing in the drawing and reflecting, as there is indeed much 2 think about. It's also a little sad and venty so, there's your warning there.

.

Ok so obviously a busy year, we moved into our new house that we actually own, I spent most of the year planning our wedding, and then got married. Big stuff. Also! I came off antidepressants in the summer. I've been on them for...basically as long as this blog, 6 months after I started it I think. Which also means I'd been on antidepressants my entire adult life. Feels like a big deal and I guess I'm still adjusting.

Another big thing, but sad, is that my dog died about two weeks ago. If you follow me on twitter you'll have seen her but she did make an appearance here a few Halloweens ago

I got her when she was 13 and had her 8 years after that. So that's been difficult. Unrelated to that (probably), but I just feel...really mediocre. And before you point out the obvious, this has been present even before I came off antidepressants. But yeah just... mediocrity. In myself as a person, how I look, what I draw, my whole life really (barring my marriage thankfully). What have I achieved? I'm 26, I'm not working, I don't feel well, my art isn't good (I don't think so anyway- like yeah it's technically fine I guess but it's not, and has never been, very stand-out or impressive). And lately art doesn't bring me the same joy it once did, and I'm wondering if all the years of harrassment from this fandom (mostly the twitter side, tumblr's been pretty good to me) has finally caught up with me and put me off the whole thing. Or worse, that I just don't have as much of an interest in it anymore. I don't think I'll ever be like "ok yep I'm officially done with this blog" because I'm so stubborn but idk. I want to make things and be creative, I want to make more train art, but it doesn't feel the same. I don't know what's wrong. What do you listen to? What you want vs what you feel? I still enjoy train stuff, I love going to Awdry Ex every year. It's been like this for awhile. It's not even like I have a strong feeling of what I'd rather be doing as far as careers go. And even if I did, oh yeah I'm sure my two degrees in animation will be very relevant in another field (sarcasm). I feel adrift. My sails are open but there is just no wind. Planning my wedding gave me something to do and work on and just, feel useful but now that that's over I feel lost again. Losing my dog, who had become the center of my life because of how vulnerable she had become, hasn't helped.

On the more creative side of things, I also don't really know what to do with this blog's story either. The show's ended as far as most people are concerned, and I kiiinda wrote myself into a corner because once Thomas turns 18 he's going to leave for university, and that sets off this whole arc with James but basically the problem is it involves characters leaving and for some reason that feels like a no-no here. Don't get me started on the timeline lol. But Thomas works on a railway on Sodor, that's how it has to be...right? I guess I'm sort of at a crossroads of, ok do I want this to be close to the source material, and thus easily digestible to newcombers? Or do I want to make it more and more my thing and distanced from the source material? I doubt there's many new people coming since the series ended. And even then, there's a lot more humanization artists around now than when I started, so it's not like I'm filling a niche anymore. Just to be clear it's fine and also good that there's more humanization artists, variety is good, I just don't feel as "needed" anymore (which is 100% in my head and not an actual role that belongs to me or something). I started this blog when I was 17, so my interests and what I relate to have changed obviously. The character designs certainly have. It's never followed a super rigid story plan, but the core of it has always been the central cast doing things on Sodor. I however have always had a scene/project/animatic/whatEver in mind for when this 'series' would '''officially''' ''''end''''. But then what comes after that? I've always tried to run this blog like they are Real People that You interact with. But in real life there is no ending to the story, there's always more stuff to come. You get married, and it's wonderful, and then life goes on. The credits never roll. So maybe that's what I'm having trouble coping with...the progression of time. Ah, my old nemesis. I've always had trouble with letting go of things. There's nothing to say that I couldn't still draw stuff after the series "ends". I guess any story after Thomas leaves could be like... a sequel series or a spin off or something. Spin-off of a spin-off. Famous 8 All Grown Up. Famous 8 Qurter Life Crisis. Who knows. I certainly don't.

I've also been really into an original project unrelated to this but those don't get as much attention and while I'd like to do something with it one day, I don't feel very confident in being able to make that happen right now. But you know... as far my as art not being super spectacular goes... I think my individual talent has always been is my ideas, like the writing side of things. And then brought to life with my art, which normally isn't anything to write home about but is good enough to convey the idea and be not-awful to look at, lifts both of them beyond what they were individually. Maybe that's what I should focus on. Maybe that's wishful thinking.

So....idk. Idk what I'm doing but I'm trying to be gentle on myself and just let myself continue to drift, to heal from this heavy loss, and then in the New Year I'll try and pick myself up. Then there will be no more big once-in-a-lifetime events coming up, no more just-moved-into-a-house-and-oh-no-there's-a-bunch-of-things-that-need-attention-NOW scenarios, and no more big holidays for awhile. I guess we'll see.

If you read all of this I am so sorry but also thank you for reading my ramblings. And thank you for being around, whether that's been for a few months or for several years, but especially if it's been several years

[shrimptiger]

Congrats to Max on his 4th title, but at the end of the day, I am a Lando, Oscar and Carlos fan, not a Max fan, so I obviously wanted one of my drivers to win. Oscar and Carlos had been out of this for a while, and it's sad seeing Lando lose his chance today, but no one can deny he's had a phenomenal season.

Look at how he started: 0 wins, one pole position, and 13 podiums; and look at him now: 3 wins, 8 poles and 25 podiums. That is 3 wins, 7 poles, and 12 podiums in 22 races this season, not counting sprints and we don't know what the last 2 races have to offer.

And let's look at the standings when Max won his other titles as of now, with 2 races and one sprint left in the 2024 season:

2021: Max won with 395.5 points and second place was Lewis, 387.5, 8 point gap, but I think we all know that in 2021, it was Max challenging Lewis on the title fight, not vice versa.

2022: Max won with 454 points and Charles was second with 308, that is a 146 point gap from Max to second place in the wdc.

2023: Max won with 575 points, p2 was Checo with 285 points, fucking 290 points separating them.

2024(with 2 races and a sprint left): there is mathematically no way for anyone other than Max to win the wdc unless he gets disqualified, which I don't see happening, so we have Max wdc with 403 points and Lando in p2 with 340, only 63 points between them.

What I mean is, Max never had a challange like this year. I'm not saying that Lando is some big unstoppable machine, and I think Max did good and kept him at distance, but if you would have looked at the standings a month ago, and even before today, you would say that Lando still had a slim chance, weather you belived in him or not, and even if that chance was small.

Maybe this is my first season, and maybe I wasn't here to see Lando before his first win, but he's not the egoistic piece of shit people say he is, and maybe he's not the best talent formula 1 has ever seen, and I don't think he will ever be, but no one can deny that he's good, and you probably couldn't do his job better than him. Statistically, he is the biggest challange to Max' wdc he's ever had(once again, 2021 was Max challanging Lewis, the championship was only his to win, because he couldn't lose it if he was never top of the standings to begin with), all in the season he's got his first "gifted" win and 2 phenomenal ones to follow with 20+ second gaps to p2, which coincidentally was Max, and Lando stood on the podium for 12 of the 22 races we've had so far this season(once again, not counting sprints), that is iver half of the races this season, and he made the 1 pole position he had at the start of the season into an 8, 7 this year.

You're blind to say he didn't have a downright amazing season, atleast compared to previous years, or that he's a bad driver, and I bet you that, had you been in his car, you would not even be close to being as good as him, let alone better. Frankly, I think the hate is just mindless, if you don't have anything better to do with your life than to hate on someone for doing their job(and it doesn't go to say that he is innocent or perfect and he's done no wrong, because I agree that he made mistakes and said and done bad things, but who here hasn't?), I recommend seeing a therapist or picking up a hobby to fill your time in a somewhat productive way.

I've said what I had to say, peace out, better luck next year and congrats to Max again, a deserved champion. Feel free to say anything you think I missed.

[lemotmo]

Yeah what is time in 911 land 🤣. I think the Buck/Eddie/ Tommy (especially Lou) stuff is probably fairly accurate though. I can see that being the original plan. It certainly feels like that's where things were originally headed.

Q. I am so confused about the timeline. In episode 6 it supposedly had been 6 months but in episode 8 it's only been 3 months. WTF? I'm so confused. I'm very confused after episodes 7 and 8 in general. They were just weird episodes.

A. Right off the bat I will say that I believe episodes 7 and 8 were rewrites. I don't believe those episodes were the original outline or drafts of those scripts. Mostly because episode 7 makes absolutely no sense following episode 6. They are not complimentary episodes in any way. The timeline in general on this show is absurdly bad so we just can't pay too much attention to the ridiculousness of it all. But I do think a couple of things happened that led to the downright nonsensical timeframe so far this season. One reason for it was the audience's response to Brad and Hotshots. Tim wanted to play with that more once it became well received. The decision to extend the opening disaster from two episodes to three episodes allowed him to do that. But it came at the expense of the other storylines. The Buck and Eddie storyline was extended in part because of Tim but other factors beyond their control also contributed to it being bumped into 8b. Tim expanded the Tommy arc following the tremendous response to bi Buck. That was his mistake. Then the show got renewed immediately into the new season. The quick renewal and Tommy extension meant the Buddie storyline, which was clearly the plan going into season 7, got bounced to season 8. The original purpose of Tommy was for him to lead Buck to his Eddie feelings. That was still the plan as they were writing season 8. I think the jealousy route was clearly the direction they were going to go based on how present they physically made Eddie in their relationship. Tim even basically said that in his early interviews for the season. But a couple of things happened that forced some changes. One thing was that Gavin moved. Initially that would have worked in their favor because it gave them the ability to put Eddie in the middle of the Buck/Tommy relationship and not have it come at the expense of his onscreen relationship with Christopher. But they had to write Gavin's absence into the show and the way they chose to do that was stupid. So they had to spend time in the early part of this season trying to build up to correcting that mistake while still involving Eddie in the Buck/Tommy relationship.

The other thing that happened was I think Lou really did get fired. The temper tantrum throwing he's doing in his interviews reinforces that belief. Actors have contracts and all contracts come with provisions. There are rules the actor has to follow in order to keep their contract with the network. Lou clearly broke his contract stipulations with the cameo nonsense. The problem was they were too far along in the writing process for the early part of the season. So I think the show and network compromised and gave him a restructured contract with a set number of scenes. That scrapped the jealousy route because they would have had to have more Tommy scenes than they wanted in order to build up the jealousy arc. But they needed the onscreen breakup. Tommy's dialogue in the breakup scene was the entire reason he was brought back for season 8. They couldn't have Buck just relay that information via a conversation about them breaking up. They had to establish some kind of longevity within the relationship without actually showing most of it, so they just wrote the relationship length into the script. A 6 month anniversary dinner. But the 6 month timeline doesn't work for Eddie and Christopher's storyline because that would imply that Eddie has allowed it to carry on for far too long. So Tim wrote it both ways. It was 6 months for the Buck part of the storyline but as far as the rest of the show is concerned it's only been 3 months. He doesn't care that it's janky and nonsensical because I don't look for Tommy to be mentioned again. Tim pretty much put that to rest. So he basically reset the timeline following the end of the Tommy arc because the audience is supposed to no longer care about the Tommy of it all. Buck's Eddie/Buddie storyline has begun so he needed to be put on Eddie's timeline now. I think we're just supposed to go with the 3 month timeframe and ignore the Tommy of it all going forward and I'm more than happy and willing to do that.

Thank you Nonny!

I definitely agree with Ali about most of these topics. Nothing more to add really.

Also, It's really late here and I'm exhausted, ready to go to bed, but I really wanted to post this ask first, so here you go! 😋

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[putting-kinger-in-places]

Can you put him here, over this man?

the rainbow winged man

Spamton Fight, Deltarune

[onlyancunin]

Temptations Part 2: Accolades

[egophiliac]

I have a question about the jp server pickups, since I really want knight Sebek, but I’m trying to save gems for bloom malleus + the 3rd tsum event that’s gonna show up sooner or later. Iirc, after knight Sebek, the next story update’s pickup had all of the previous story cards (ie cerberus Ortho, general Lilia, and knight Sebek). Is this true, and if it is, did it include a token system like the dorm pickups where you can just do 100 pulls and then buy the specific card you want directly? Because if that is how it works, then I can wait until then and be sure I won’t have to go to 200 for him.

we did indeed get a second chance at those three when 7-7 came out! I'm pretty sure there was not a token system -- though admittedly I don't 100% remember, sorry! 🙇 I took a quick search through some past posts/videos from people who tend to include the gacha and news stuff, but I didn't see any mention of it, so I'm inclined to think there really wasn't one. :( they were all separate pickups with their own pull counts rather than a combined one, if that info helps at all.

speaking as a strict f2p who hoards keys/gems like the lovechild of a dragon and a magpie, given the choice between saving for a story card and a birthday card, I'd go for story -- it does require a lot of patience, but there are way more opportunities to get past birthday cards, both from the anniversary events and the rerun pickups! tsums is a bit harder to say anything on because Eng doesn't follow the same event schedule, but it's a longish event and those pickups let you have a free 10-roll, so I think they're also a bit easier to save up for.

(ALSO speaking of free rolls, starting with the fifth round of birthdays -- the kutsurogi my room ones -- the birthday boy/union jacket/bloom cards have had a separate pickup that you can get two free 10-pulls at by doing missions! I got a bloom Jade from it a couple weeks ago. :D meanwhile general Lilia is the only story card I've ever managed to pull, so...I'm probably kinda biased. whoops.)

[ataleofcrowns]

I'm going to unofficially name CH10 the "X Filter". It really seems to be the chapter where a certain percentage of X romancers get filtered out because of That One Scene lmao

[bayetea]

I'm gonna froth at the mouth over this in the tags so bear with me but reason #1278038 why the way rick went about breaking up jiper was bad: rereading her povs in hoo where she gushes over jason feels like even more of an unreliable narrator queer girl comphet psychological horror story

[littlespoonevan]

.

[coollyinterferes]

The unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching begins to fill the air. Whoever is coming seems to have brought some company along…

They are getting closer… and closer… and closer…

…and closer…

……until..................

"Goooooood evenin'!!" Comes the loud greeting from a certain blond man. A big smile on his face and all.

"We beg your pardon for our prolonged absence. It was completely beyond our control..." Then adds the gentleman standing by his side, apologizing on behalf of both, offering a genuine smile along with the apology.

"...BUT! We're back!" And hopefully for good this time…