#sorry maybe i need a break from this website

[meebles]

i wish i knew how to not take things so personally. rationally i know that it’s completely valid and genuinely a good thing for people to have different opinions about characters and ships and whatever and it’s not that deep etc. and yet there’s still this irrational part of me who just wants to give up writing completely because am i doing this right? are they in character? am i using too many “overused” fandom tropes? am i interpreting this completely wrong? even when i believe i’ve done a lot of thinking and retrospective and tried to genuinely understand these characters and their motivations

idk man i just want to have fun, and i know a part of that is just doing my own thing and not worrying about what other people like and not getting worked up about it. but it’s hard sometimes.

[leclerc-hs]

save a bull! - cl16

pairing: bull rider!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which a city girl meets a cowboy OR charles finds himself infatuated with the visiting city girl warnings: language, NOT PROOFREAD, no smut (maybe in part 2 if y'all want smut), bad writing (sorry lol) word count: ~4.4k author's note: HI. did you miss me? i sure as FUCK missed y'all. so I started writing this MONTHS ago but then took a very long break from this website and writing. it might be very shitty so i apologize for that. it was originally going to be just 1 part but I found myself writing so much that I think 2 parts will be better in the end. PLEASE REACH OUT TO ME WITH ANY FEEDBACK. sorry if this sucks. love you all.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Will you please just consider it!” Abigail pleads beside you on the sidewalk, weaving through the bustling crowd with an effortless grace. The sun casts dappled shadows on the pavement, and the scent of street food mingles with the crisp urban air.

The city feels particularly relentless as you trudge along the crowded sidewalk, your third cup of coffee from the corner deli clutched in one hand, its steam mingling with the bustling street air. Your shoulders droop under the weight of fatigue, a stark contrast to the frenetic energy of the city around you. Each step towards your office tower feels heavier, as though the concrete beneath your feet has turned to lead.

The tall buildings loom overhead, their steel and glass facades glinting under the midday sun, but their gleam only seems to amplify the oppressive weight of your exhaustion. The vibrant hum of the city—a symphony of honking taxis, chattering pedestrians, and distant sirens—becomes a monotonous drone.

Your dress, once crisp and sharp, now feels more like a burden, its fabric slightly rumpled from a day spent at your desk.

“I can’t take that much time off of work,” You say, your voice tinged with frustration but softened by a hint of regret. You’re caught in that all-too-familiar tug of war between professional obligations and personal desires. You finally get the chance to turn your head to look at Abigail as you reach a crosswalk, blinking not to cross. You see the disappointment flicker in your friend’s eyes.

“I get it,” Abigail says, her voice steady and tinged with understanding, “I know how demanding your job is. But that doesn’t mean you can’t work from home. Or take personal time. I know you have that option.”

You chuckle softly, admiring her persistence to some degree. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

“When is the last time you even took a personal day.”

The answer was never. But she didn’t need to know that.

“Will you stop begging me every second of every day if I say yes?” You ask, half in jest but with a trace of genuine curiosity.

“Obviously,” she replies, her smile widening as she sees the shift in your stance.

The pedestrian light turns green, and as you start to cross the street, you take a deep breath, blinking to steady your thoughts. “Fine.”

Abigail’s face lights up with a victorious grin, her eyes sparkling with triumph. “Really?”

“Yes.”

-

Nestled amidst rolling green hills and expansive grasslands, Abigail’s small family farm is a picturesque retreat. The scene unfolds like a charming pastoral painting, with vibrant hues of green and wheat fields stretching out as far as the eye can see, interspersed with splashes of color from blooming wildflowers.

At the heart of the farm stands a quaint, cozy house, its charm amplified by a wraparound porch adorned with potted flowers. The house itself is a delightful mix of rustic and charming, with its whitewashed clapboard siding, and a steeply pitched roof. 

Adjacent to the house, a well-tended vegetable garden thrives, it’s neat rows of tomatoes, lettuce, and peppers bordered by a low wooden fence. A couple of well-worn garden tools lean against a small shed nearby, evidence of the daily care given.

Further out, a classic red barn structure where a white trimmed roof sits atop. The sounds of clucking hens and the occasional bray of donkey create a lively atmosphere. Near the barn, sits a small paddock with a couple of playful horses, their sleek coats gleaming in the sunlight. 

The fresh air of the farm is almost a sensory overload compared to the city’s fumes. Unlike the city’s dense cocktail of exhaust fumes, asphalt, and various street food vendors, the farm air is pure.

As you sit at the kitchen table, the warmth of the farmhouse envelops you. The rustic charm of the kitchen, with its large wooden table and mismatched chairs, is filled with the sounds of cheerful conversation and shared laughter.

Abigail stands at the center of the room, animatedly catches her family up on the latest happenings in her city life. Her eyes sparkle with excitement, her gestures lively and expressive. The tales of the city hustle almost seem foreign in this serene setting. 

Danny and Luke, her two older brothers, sit across from you at the table. Danny, with his sandy blond hair and easy-going demeanor, leans back in his chair, his face lit up with a relaxed smile. He listens attentively, occasionally interjecting with teasing remarks or playful banter. His presence is warm and reassuring. His wife, Gianna, sits beside him with a small baby boy on her lap.

Luke, on the other hand, exudes a quiet strength. His dark hair is neatly tousled, and his gaze is both thoughtful and amused. His demeanor calm yet engaged.

“It’s so nice to finally meet the girl who makes our Abigail so happy in the city,” Abigail’s mother continues, her voice carrying a note of heartfelt sincerity. “She’s always spoken so highly of you.”

You feel a flush of warmth at the compliment, a mix of gratitude and slight nervousness at the attention all on you. 

“Thank you so much for having me,” You smile softly. “I don’t know what I would do without Abigail in my life.”

With a playful glint in Danny’s eye, he chimes in, “I do.”

The room erupts in a chorus of laughter, the sound ringing out with genuine warmth and affection.

You decided right there you may just like it here a lot more than you thought.

-

The silk dress that adorned your body was utterly unsuitable for the rugged rodeo environment, but you didn’t really care. The delicate fabric, with its soft sheen and flowing lines, clashed vividly with the dusty, rough-and-tumble atmosphere of the rodeo.

As you moved through the arena, the contrast became more pronounced. The silk, while beautiful, struggled against the elements—dust from the arena settling onto the fabric, and the occasional splash of beer threatening to leave their mark. The sight of your delicate dress among the crowd of rugged cowboys and cowgirls in their jeans, boots, and plaid shirts drew curious glances.

But you didn’t care. You liked your clothes, the luxurious feel of the silk against your skin, the way it draped with effortless grace. The expensive fabric was a statement of your personal taste, and you embraced it fully, regardless of the setting.

“You could’ve borrowed some jeans, you know?” Abigail chirps beside you, her jeans mostly ripped and worn matched well with her cowboy boots. 

You shrug your shoulders in a noncommittal way. “I’m going to head to the bathroom before this starts. Grab me a drink?” 

“Duh. See you at the seats?” Abigail laughs before sauntering off towards a beer vendor. 

You stand still for a moment, observing Abigail and her brothers joking around as they stroll across the lively rodeo grounds. You can’t help but smile at their playful banter, you didn’t have growing up.

As you watch, lost in the charm of the moment, a rough shoulder unexpectedly collides with yours. The sudden contact jolts you out of your reverie, and you turn to see a burly cowboy in worn jeans and a dusty plaid shirt. 

You swore he was one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen in your life until he opened his big fat mouth.

“You lost?” He laughs, his green eyes bright and mischievous as he adjusts the hat on his head.

“Excuse me?” You reply, a mix of confusion and irritation threading through your voice.

“The city is a long way from here,” He drawls, the smirk on his lips widening with a hint of amusement.

The combination of his cheeky grin , the twinkle in his eye, and the dismissive tone ignites a flicker of anger within you. It feels like a mix of condescension and teasing that sends a sharp heat coursing through your veins. You roll your eyes, unable to hide your annoyance.

“Thanks for the information, jackass,” You snap, shoving past him with a forceful nudge. You march away with purpose, the silk of your dress swishing around your legs with each determined step.

Unbeknownst to you, as you walk away, he can’t help but turn his head to watch the sway of your hips in the thin, delicate fabric. His gaze lingers for a moment longer than necessary, a mixture of surprise and lingering admiration in his eyes as he takes in your retreating figure.

A hand lands firmly on his shoulder, and a voice calls out, “C’mon Charles, you need to get changed.” The words cut through his moment of distraction.

With a slight jolt, he snaps back to reality and glances over, meeting the eyes of his friend who is already gesturing towards the changing area. Reluctantly, he shifts his focus and starts to follow, his gaze now shifting into a more focused, practical demeanor.

-

Finally settled into your seat, far too close to the metal fence for your liking, and smothered between Abigail and Luke, you feel yourself relax as Luke places a tall boy can of beer in your hand, the wet condensation soaking your hand. 

“Hope you can handle a beer,” Luke states, a smile on his lips. “It’s all they had left.”

You bring the can of beer to your lips slowly, savoring the crisp, cool sensation as you take a smooth sip. With a playful glint in your eye, you send a wink in Luke’s direction. “I promise I can handle a beer,” you say with a teasing smile.

Luke’s eyes crinkle at the corners with amusement, and he lets out a hearty chuckle. He lifts his own beer in a casual salute, the gesture accompanied by a nod of approval. As he takes a sip, the cool amber liquid reflecting the warm light of the evening, he meets your gaze with a grin that mirrors your playful confidence.

“So how does this work?” You ask, turning your full attention to Luke while Abigail and Danny are engrossed in their own conversation on the other side of you.

Luke raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “How does what work?” 

You gesture broadly with your hands, waving them in animated circles as you take in the bustling rodeo arena before you. “This,” you say, trying to encompass the entire scene with your sweeping motions.

As if gaining a sense of clarity, the corners of Luke’s lips tug upward. “Why don’t you just watch and find out? It’s about to start.”

You turn your head back to the dirt ring, feeling the adrenaline of the moment as you witness a big brown bull in the chute. Its snorts are visible through the gaps in the metal fences, each exhalation a cloud of steam in the crisp air.

A handsome cowboy, his broad shoulders accentuated by a fitted vest, mounts the bull with practiced ease. He glances up with a confident, almost cocky grin that makes your heart race even faster. Your gaze follows every move he makes, captivated by the way he balances on the bull’s massive back as the gate swings open.

The bull bursts into action, hooves flying and muscles rippling as it twists and bucks in an attempt to throw the rider off. The scene is a whirlwind of motion and raw power—an exhilarating display of skill and bravery. It’s almost surreal, the sheer intensity of the bull’s movements and the cowboy’s unflinching composure.

As the bull spins in tight circle, you glance over to the timer mounted on the fence. The seconds tick away, each moment bringing the eight-second mark closer. When the buzzer finally sounds, signaling the end of the ride, the cowboy springs off the bull with an effortless grace. He tosses a hand in the air, his expression nonchalant as if the wild ride was nothing more than a casual stroll.

The crowd erupts in cheers and applause, their excitement palpable as they all stand up with shouts.

You turn your head back towards Luke, one of the biggest smiles on your face as you meet his eyes in pure astonishment. 

“How about it?” Luke chimes in, taking yet another chug of his beer.

“This is insane!” You take another sip as well.

-

Charles lived for bull riding. It was more than just a passion—it was his livelihood. The cowboy lifestyle, with its raw, untamed essence, had shaped almost every aspect of his existence. 

To him, the bull was not just an animal but a formidable partner in a high-stakes dance of power and control. Two things Charles always loved to have. Every successful ride was a testament to his skill and courage, a dance with danger that left him both exhilarated and humbled. Like this ride. Right now.

He throws his hand in the air, the rush of pure adrenaline coursing through his veins. The feel of the dirt beneath his boots, the deafening roar of the crowd, and an impressive score of 91, was enough to send him shouting in joy. He let his eyes wander the crowd around him, taking it all in like he always loves to do. He livesfor the attention.

So, when he notices a familiar woman seated right before the metal fence, paying little to no attention to the dirt ring, he can’t help but feel just a little annoyed.

He also can’t help but feel more annoyed when he takes notice of that silk fabric again, immediately remembering when he bumped into your frame mere moments ago. Your cherry lips and silky-smooth hair flash into his mind. For a second, he almost forgets the fact that he’s standing in the middle of a dirt ring.

He can’t quite shake the memory of your demeanor and the way you seemed detached from the rodeo’s thrilling chaos. The way you could care less about who he was. It’s a curious juxtaposition against the fervor of the crowd and the adrenaline that still courses through him.

One thing about Charles was that he wanted attention, yes. But right now, he only wanted yours. With that unshakable desire in mind, he strides confidently toward where you’re seated. The metal fences between you both form a barrier, but that doesn’t deter him.

As he approaches, the crowd senses a shift in the energy and falls into an anticipatory hush. Their collective gaze shifts to you and Charles, creating a palpable focus on the interaction.

Charles, his presence commanding and confident, slips his hat through the gap in the metal fence, offering it to you with a smirk. The hat, wide brimmed and well worn, represents a piece of his world.

“To help you fit in better.” His tone a mix of challenge and amusement.

Without waiting for a response, he turns on his heel and finally saunters off, his gait relaxed yet purposeful. 

-

“What just happened?” Abigail smacks your arm, the one not jolding the hat, as you walk side by side. Her brothers loom behind you, their presence adding to the charged atmosphere of the moment. “Why did Charles fucking Leclerc just give you, his hat?”

You glance at the hat, a bemused expression on your face. “That guy is a total dick is what just happened.”

Abigail’s eyes widen, her excitement barely contained. “What do you mean!” She practically shouts, her voice a mix of disbelief and thrill. “He’s like famous here. Every girl probably hates you right now.”

“Why?” You ask, genuinely puzzled.

“Are you blind?” Abigail’s voice now full sheer joy. “The dude is practically sex on fucking legs. And he’s one of the best bull riders around!”

You look back at the hat again, it suddenly feels heavier in the grasp of your fingertips. “Charles Leclerc is a big deal around here. And he just gave you, his hat. That’s a huge deal.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the slight flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Well, it doesn’t change the fact that he was a jackass earlier. But I guess it’s good to know he’s a big deal around here.”

Abigail bursts into laughter. “You really are something else.”

-

The narrow aisles of the tiny market, with their cramped and cluttered shelves, had you aimlessly strolling in circles. The items on your list—given to you by Abigail’s mom—seemed to elude your every turn. The overhead lights cast a harsh glare on the disorganized assortment of product, making it difficult to find what you needed. You stood there, your eyes narrowing in annoyance, at the crumpled list clutched in your hand.

“Need some help, sweetheart?”

The sound of the deep, velvety voice was enough to draw your attention away from the list. You turned to see Charles standing not even a few feet away, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned casually against a shelf. His eyes, green as ever, created a swirl of butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

Although you were known for your stubbornness, often digging your heels in even when it wasn’t your best interest, you had to admit you were out of your depth in the tiny market. There were no signs. No directory.

“Depends,” you reply, the hint of a playful challenge in your voice. Charles raises his eyebrows, a silent prompt for you to elaborate further.

“If you call me city girl even once,” you continue, your tone firm but light-hearted, “I’ll knock you right out.”

The challenge is met with a shit-eating grin, so wide on Charles’s face that it seems almost infectious. His cheeks stretch into an exuberant smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement. And it takes him one step, and one stretch of his arm, to snag that grocery list right out of your dainty fingertips.

-

“You’re cute when you’re real mad, y’know?” He drawls, placing the groceries into the bed of the pick-up truck you borrowed from Abigail’s family.

“I’m not mad.”

“You’re right.” He says, placing the final bag into the truck and leaning against the frame of it with an arm propped up. “You’re just cute.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Charles doesn’t miss the subtle flush the tints the apples of your cheeks with a delicate shade of red. The reaction stirs a flutter in his chest, almost like an addiction that he never wants to stop. 

You’re undeniably cute, with an effortlessly enchanting beauty that makes it difficult to look away. A magnetic pull that Charles just can’t shake. It’s almost as if he’s addicted to getting a reaction out of you. 

-

It’s been days of settling into the rhythm of farm life—enjoying family dinners filmed with hearty laughter and home-cooked meals, gathering around late-night fires that crackle and warm against the cool night air, and rolling up your sleeves to help with daily chores.

Even had a few more run-in's with the famous bull riding man himself. He was sweet, but you couldn't help but feel at complete unease around him. Not in a bad way, but in a my heart won't stop pounding against my rib cage kind of way.

Like when he covered you in his flannel at the latest bonfire, taming the rising goosebumps along your body.

"I don't need this, y'know?"

"Sweetheart, you're cold. Just wear the damn thing."

Or when you bumped into him at one of the farmer's markets and it took no hesitation for him to grab all of your purchases out from under your arm.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doin?"

"Stealing my stuff"

His laugh shot butterflies right into your stomach. "You're something else, sweetheart."

You make a point to be as involved as possible, driven by the genuine desire to contribute and make a sense of responsibility. 

“Should we hit up Rusty Spur’s tonight?” Abigail asks from beside you, her voice light and relaxed as she stands wrapped in a fluffy robe, freshly showered. She’s casually brushing her long, damp hair, the strands falling in soft waves around her shoulders.

“What’s Rusty Spur’s” you ask, leaning over the bathroom sink for a closer look as you apply your last coat of mascara, adding the finishing touch to your makeup.

“The bar,” she replies nonchalantly, her tone suggesting it’s a place she frequents often. “I think we need a night out.”

You glance at her through the mirror, a smile spreading across your face at the prospect of a night out. 

“Yes.”

-

Rusty Spur’s was the kind of country bar that instantly feels like home, even if you’ve never been there before.

As you step inside, the scent of aged wood, spilled beer, and a hint of smoky warmth greets you. The place is packed. 

The flimsy spaghetti straps of your short white dress dig into the skin of your shoulders, their delicate fabric offering little support. Despite its ethereal look, the dress feels unexpectedly snug against your skin. The soft white fabric sways with each step you take as you slip your body in between the crowds of people.

Abigail leads you to a cozy corner of the bar. Almost instantly, a bartender approaches, his familiarity with Abigail evident in the easy smile and warm greeting he offers.

You can’t help but notice just how easy on the eyes he is. He’s dressed, like almost every guy in this bar, in snug jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms. His casual yet confident demeanor, coupled with the slight scruff on his beard and his easygoing smile, makes him stand out in the dimly lit bar. 

Within the span of five minutes, a chilled, neck-bottled beer is placed gently into your hand. Taking in the view of the crowd, which is large but not overwhelmingly so, you scan the faces around you. As your gaze moves across the room, no one stands out as particularly familiar—until your eyes land on a table not too far away.

There, seated with a group of friends, is Charles. His presence is unmistakable. Even from a distance, he exudes a charismatic confidence, the kind that draws attention without even trying. He’s relaxed in his posture, laughing and engaging with his companions, the flannel from earlier now swapped for a casual shirt. 

“Wanna dance?” Abigail chimes in your ear, her beer already half gone in the span of a minute.

-

It was almost as if Charles could feel your presence without even seeing you. The dim light of the bar cast flickering shadows. He leaned back against the worn leather of his chair, his senses heightened.

You found yourself completely immersed in the music, your body moving almost involuntary as your shoes glide smoothly across the weathered wooden floor. You’re not exactly sure when it happened, but your body eventually became pressed up against a random guy you’ve only just met on the dance floor. His presence both surprising and pleasant. He’s cute—definitely cute. His hands are gentle on your waist, guiding you through the steps with a natural rhythm. 

He twirls you effortlessly around, guiding your movement with a deft touch that brings a burst of joy. As you complete the spin, you find yourself facing him once more, his eyes twinkling down at you.

With a playful flourish, he slips his cowboy hat onto your head. You can feel the subtle press of the brim against your forehead, much too big for your head. You tilt your head back and laugh, the sound a melodic blend of joy and unrestrained happiness woven into the music. 

In this embrace, everything seems to align perfectly—the rhythm of the music, the warmth of the body, and the whimsical charm of the cowboy hat resting lightly atop your head.

“Do you want t-” The words began to leave the man’s lips, but they were abruptly cut off as a firm muscled arm shoved him away from your embrace. The unexpected force sent him stumbling back, surprise flashing across his face and yours.

The man recovered his footing, confusion turning into indignation as he glared at the one who interrupted. Charles. Meanwhile, you stood your ground, heart racing, caught between the thrill of the moment and unexpected clash.

If looks could kill.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

Large fingers reach for the brim of the hat atop your head, snatching it right off before Charles shoves it back into the man’s chest. “Don’t ever put a hat on her head again.” 

His voice was rough and terse, cutting through the ambient noise like a blade. “Let’s go,” He says, not giving the man or you a chance to react. In an instant, his fingers snake around your wrist, pulling you away from the dance floor and into the shadows of a secluded table ticked into the corner of the bar.

The abrupt shift caught you off guard, and your heart raced as he led you through the sea of bodies. The air between you was thick with unspoken words as he tucks you between him and the edge of the table. His grip on your wrist loosens, but his proximity is too close.

“What the hell was that?” Your senses heightened as your eyes locked onto his. The usual light green of his irises, often warm and inviting, was now obscured by a much darker hue, swirling with intensity and something primal. 

His gaze was pointed, sharp, and unyielding. You sensed a storm brewing behind those darkened eyes, and the air around you crackled with anticipation. 

“He put his hat on you, sweetheart.” You scoff almost instantly, bubbling anger simmers in your chest as you let out a soft laugh over the situation.

“Really?” You throw your head back for a mere second as the laugh pushes past your throat. “You shoved him over a hat?”

His eyes remain narrowed, the amusement that might have danced there moments ago, no longer present. “Do you even know what that means?” He presses, his voice low and intense as he leans into your ear, the weight of his words hanging between you.

“What a hat means?” Confusion flickers across your features. The question so out of place, and yet the gravity of his tone suggests otherwise.

Before you can grasp the implications, you felt his fingers sneak their way to you, warmth and firmness splayed along your waist. The contact sent a jolt of awareness through you, igniting the tension the crackled in the air. It was a possessive gesture. 

His gaze never wavers, and the connection between you deepens.

“You wear that hat; you ride that cowboy.”

For a moment, you freeze. 

“And in no fucking world, would I let you wear anyone’s but mine.”

[reidology13]

we could make it better (breaking every habit)

Spencer Reid x fem ex-famous!reader

Summary: After Spencer overcomes his addiction, he seeks out the company and forgiveness of an old flame. cw: talk of addiction, a little sad? mostly fluffy though a/n: technically a part 2 of my fic based off making the bed by olivia rodrigo, but it can definitely be read as a oneshot. maybe they are a bit unhealthy, but they're cute and that's all that matters. also this was so incredibly delayed cause my phone drowned so I'm posting this from my dad's computer

Part 1

They say time heals all wounds, and standing at the door of his past mistake, Spencer hoped it had healed hers the way it had his. It had taken him too long to find her, for his pride to break down enough to ask Garcia to search for her. A few years ago it would have been all too easy, a few years ago she was on the cover of every magazine. Now she was the public's favourite conspiracy theory, the biggest where did she go? post made on some website full of self important nobodies. 

Where did she go? A small house in a small town, a few hours from D.C, just close enough that Spencer had gotten in his car without a second thought the moment he had her address. Maybe it was a slight invasion of privacy, but Spencer had seen much more of her than the house she lived in.

As he lifted his fist to knock, doubt crept in for the first time since the beginning of his endeavour. Was he right to apologise, to show up at the doorstep of the person he hurt worse than anyone else in his life, and say sorry? Sorry. ‘Sorry’ was a puny word that could never hope to mean anything compared to what he had done, how he had used her. But it would have to do, because he had not come all that way to turn back at the flashing neon sign that said ‘CLOSURE’.

Knock, knock, knock. Was three knocks not enough? Knock. God four was too many and the last one had been so separate from the others it was clearly an afterthought that she would think was weird before she even knew it was him on the other side of-

“Spencer?” The door opened, just enough for her face to be visible through the small opening. She was so much more beautiful than he remembered, although he really didn’t remember much from back then. 

“I’m sorry.” Well that was one way to get to the point. He smacked himself internally, scolding himself for being so stupid and inconsiderate, not even saying hello or asking her how she was doing.

“Do you wanna come in? You look like you need to sit down.” She pulled the door open, stepping back to let him in, and Spencer froze. She was allowing him into her home, her space, he who had squeezed her dry, used her up and tossed her aside when he didn’t need her anymore.

Unsure what else to do, Spencer found himself sitting on her couch, the awkward tension between them palpable as he sat silently in regret of every decision he had made in the last week.

“So,” She prompted, gesturing vaguely in his direction, “How are you?”

“Good, yeah, better. You?” He looked around the room, trying to find something that would tell him anything about her life, about her. She was a stranger, really, a stranger that used to be someone he knew. He wanted to know who she was then, on that day, in her house sitting across from him.

“I’m good too. You look better.” He knew what she meant – he didn’t look high out of his mind. The far wall of the room was covered in framed pictures of her and what he assumed were her family and friends. Some were from her childhood, some were taken in front of the very house he was sitting in. 

What surprised Spencer were the photos, though few and far between, where he made an appearance. The Fourth of July party, a bright, sunny photo full of smiling faces. The poor quality of the picture did nothing to disguise the bags under his eyes, nor the dead look in hers. Her birthday, a photo of her blowing out the candles on her cake, blurred from his shaky grip on the camera.

“I don’t remember that one.” He pointed to a picture of the two of them, a dark photo that he nearly hadn’t recognised as himself. The ability to not remember had been his favourite thing back then, now the haze left him with a pit in his stomach.

“Makes sense, you were… you were bad. It was taken right near the end.” 

“I am sorry, really.” Neither of them spoke after that, the silence a warm blanket rather than a thick smog. The apology wrapped around them in a warm embrace, they did not choke on it.

She moved first, after what felt like the most peaceful eternity, slipping her hand around his, holding it in the space between them. He looked down at their joined hands, his gaze slowly drifting up until it landed on the soft smile spread across her face.

“I missed you.” She squeezed his hand gently, although it felt like she squeezed his heart instead, “I missed you from the moment I met you. It’s nice to get you back.”

“I missed you too.” He didn’t know how to explain the way it had taken him a month to get sober enough that reality hit and he realised what he’d lost. At least, he didn’t know how to explain it without having to actually say something about his addiction. He’d always been good at avoiding the topic, skirting around it with suggestions and subtle confirmations. The word ‘addiction’ made him feel weak, like he’d been defeated. He’d talked about his problem once, in a room full of people who had been through the same thing, and even then he hadn’t been able to say it. 

“You’re so strong, Spencer. You’ve come so far.” It was like she could read his mind, see every fear that haunted him and soothe it accordingly.

“So are you, I mean, you got out of everything.” His eyes dropped to his lap in shame of everything that he hadn’t noticed, all of the obvious signs of just how not okay she had been. All that she must have been going through, that he had been too far from reality to know existed, even when it was staring him in the face.

“You say that like you didn’t.” It was a simple sentiment, but maybe that was what hit him like a freight train. It wasn’t some mantra he’d heard hundreds of times, or a complicated conversation with his friends where they tried to talk to him without saying anything that actually mattered.

He got out of it.

“You’re perfect, you know that right?” The way he looked at her in that moment could only be described as reverential, she was the brightest star in a sky that he had never truly seen before.

“No I’m not.” The way she said it like a definite fact made Spencer’s heart start to crack, “Do you know why I have those pictures up?”

Spencer shook his head, “Tell me,” he said the words under his breath, as if they were surrounded by people in the empty room, “I’m not going to find you any less perfect.”

“Hope. I could never get the thought out of my head that you would come back.” She shook her head, gaze locked on the ground like she couldn’t bear to look at him as she spoke. “It was stupid, and then you actually did, and that’s stupid all over again.”

“You’re even more perfect than I thought.” Spencer laughed, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, happy and sad and something he couldn’t put a name to. She was still holding his hand, he realised, and he used that information to interlace their fingers, placing their joined hands in his spare palm.

“I’m stupid and lucky, that’s what I am.” She snorted, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“No, not stupid.” Spencer drew circles with his thumb on her palm as he spoke, “Lucky, maybe.” 

“We’re gonna have to talk about this, us, you know that.”

“Eventually, yes. Not right now.”

“Not right now.” She confirmed, nodding slowly. They were both there, and that would have to be enough, at least for the moment.

[elliespassagerprincess]

ellie period comfort fic pls? istg i hate this shit but love ur fluff fics KJAKSJHKA:cc

Comfort - (ellie williams x reader)

hi pookieeee!!! firstly thank youuuu, secondly so real. if i could get rid of it forever i would because joh the painnnnnnnn:(((( i hope you enjoy<3333

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

warnings: none

Summary: in which she helped you

authors note: its midterm break rn and im so bored, all i do is sleep, eat and write. also do yall think i should make playlist with all the songs people send me as requests???

masterlist

Ellie was worried. Really fucking worried.

The two of you were supposed to meet at this new cat café Ellie recently discovered. She remembered showing you pictures that she found on Instagram, and how excited you were.

"Ellie there's ginger cats!" You squealed when you saw the pictures. "Can i hold them?"

"The website says you can"

You let out a scream of excitement and you hopped onto her, straddling her. Her hands immediately went to your hips.

You kissed her all over her face and she fucking giggled.

"Thank you baby!"

Now here she sat all alone with ginger cat on her lap waiting for you.

She sat there for over an hour waiting but you never showed up. She's called you so many times. She's texted you so many times.

I'm here (delivered)

when are you coming? (delivered)

Where are you? (delivered)

Baby are you ok? (delivered)

You're scaring me (delivered)

It wasn't like you to not respond, especially if the two of you had a date planned.

Maybe you were mad at her? Maybe you were ignoring her? Maybe you were in danger?

Fuck, so many possibilities.

She checked your location only to see that you were at your apartment.

What?

She immediately left the café, and she hopped into her car. She was speeding down the highway, praying that she wouldn't get pulled over.

Maybe you fainted, maybe you forgot, maybe you had someone over?

She was terrified.

She pulled into the driveway of the complex and she rushed up the stairs forgetting that the elevator was there. She ran to your door and she unlocked it with the key she had, not even bothering to knock because if you were in trouble then she needed to get there urgently.

She walked into into your apartment and it looked like it always has. It was clean, everything was in its place.

What the fuck?

She slowly walked through the apartment and she checked every room but there was no one. She just has your bedroom left. She slowly opened the door and there was a huge lump on your bed. She walked to the other side of the bed to see you fast sleep covered with a million blankets.

She let out a sigh of relief and she squatted down so she could see your face more clearly.

She gently touched your cheek and your nose scrunched at the sensation.

"Baby" she muttered quietly.

You slowly opened your eyes and she gave you a small smile.

"Hi"

"Are you ok?" Ellie asked with concern "you didn't reply to my texts"

you frown and you reached out to grab your phone from behind you. You switched it on you read all the texts and you eyes widened.

"we had a date?"

"Yeah"

"I'm sorry"

Ellie shook her head "what happened?"

you look away shyly

"baby talk to me"

"my period started and i decided to take a nap"

'that explains your mood swings' Ellie thought

"oh you poor thing" she got up and she kissed your forehead "does it hurt?"

"A little" you admitted.

"Let me help you"

you nodded at her request and Ellie immediately got to work. She went into your bathroom and she filled the tub with water. She back into your room where you quietly sat and waited for her. She came in and she gently grabbed your hand

"come on baby"

You got out of the bed following her. When you got into the bathroom and you saw the water filled tub you gave her a big hug. You took off your clothes and you gave you got in with a relived sigh.

Ellie took your clothes and she out it into the washer. She immediately went into the kitchen and she looked for every sweet treat she could find because she knew how much loved eating sweet this, especially at this time.

She changed your sheets, she got you pain meds and she sat on the edge of the bed waiting for you.

You walked out all clean, and you were immediately looking for Ellie. When you walked into the room, seeing the new sheets the snacks, you were suddenly overwhelmed.

"Oh Ellie" your eyes filled with tears.

"No baby don't cry" she got up and she walked over to you and she hugged you as you silently sobbed. The two of you stood together for a while as you found comfort in her arms.

"Lets lay down" she mumbled.

"Tonight we'll do whatever you want" she said as she cuddled up behind you.

"Can we watch Disney?"

"We can baby"

"can you also get me cheese?"

"Whatever you want baby"

you gave the arm that was wrapped around you a squeeze

"i like cheese"

" i know you do"

"thank you els, i love you"

"i love you too"

<3

[shizucheese]

So about that Dropout Tweet...

There's a common trend in influencer/ content creator apologies, where the person doing the apology will say they are sorry for the harm that they did, claim they are taking ownership of it and using the whole situation to become a better person, etc. etc. Usually in a way that makes it sound suspiciously like it was written by ChatGPT.

And then they'll go on to say something along the lines of "But we've been getting a lot of death threats guys, and that's bad!" As if the fact that they're getting death threats somehow absolves them of at least some of the guilt of whatever it is that made the apology necessary in the first place. As if it means they're the real victims here.

Apparently Dropout decided to just skip the "ChatGPT apology" part and jump straight to the "We're getting physcal and legal threats" part. Followed up with them once again saying they support Palestiniens and ending it with "We reject antisemitism, Islamophobia, and all forms of bigotry, and welcome all to our platform who treat others with respect, empathy, and human dignity."

And they did it on Twitter, and only Twitter. You know, the website that's notoriously overrun by Nazis. Nothing on Tumblr or Instagram, where the original statement that sparked all of this (which has since been taken down) were posted.

@dropoutdottv, @samreich, this is not listening to the Jewish members of your community who are speaking out about antisemitism. This is reinforcing the antisemitism that those Jewish members of the community are speaking out about. Because what this Tweet does is paint everyone who spoke out against the antisemitism in your original post with the same brush as the people who were sending you threats.

Which, let me be clear, they should not have been doing and I wholeheartedly condemn.

But the actions of the people sending you threats of violence and threats of legal action do not invalidate the things being said by the people who haven't threatened you with anything worse than a boycott. I have literally seen people say "the fact that they got threats just proves they were right." Is that the outcome you were trying to achieve with this?

People who did bad things get death threats all the time; refer back to the beginning of this post. Does that make their critics wrong then, too? Or is it only now, when the accusation being made is that a nerdy comedy network beloved by people on the left did an antisemitism?

I honestly can't tell if you have no publicist helping you out with one, a bad publicist that needs to give you your money back, or an evil genius publicist that knew that if you made a post like this one, it would distract from the fact that you're being accused of antisemitism, maybe even act as a dog whistle to to paint anyone who accuses you of being antisemitic of being "Zionists" (meant in the derogatory way, where people claim they're only talking about people who uncritically support the Israeli government and their actions in Gaza, but then in practice will use it against anyone who believes Israel has the right to exist, including those who want a two state solution, whose hearts break for the people in Palestine, and call Netanyahu a fascist and probably want him gone more than even the people calling them "zionists" do). Maybe even make up for all of the subscriptions you're losing over this and even gain a few by catering to the antisemitic leftist crowd.

Is that really the kind of culture you want to cultivate? If not, then do better. Acknowledge the Jewish voices that are speaking out. Listen to them. And do it in a way that doesn't bring up any other marginalized group. Because like...fuck, man, I reject Islamophobia, and all forms of bigotry too. And I'm sorry you guys are receiving threats; that truly does suck and I hope everyone that works for you guys are staying safe.

But you're specifically being accused of antisemitism. Can you really not reject it all on its own without including other forms of bigotry in the same statement?

And do it on a platform that *isn't* run by an infamous antisemitic, and overrun by more antisemitics? (You can turn off comments and reblogs on Tumblr and comments on instagram, in the same way you disabled replies on your Tweet, you know.)

Here, I'll even write the statement for you: "Earlier this week, we made a statement regarding accusations that Dropout was platforming zionists. At the time, we made a statement focusing on our support of the Palestinian people. We stand by this statement. However, we have received feedback from several members of our community that some of the things that we said were inappropriate insensitive to the Jewish people. "Zionist" and "Zionism" mean different things to different people, ranging from "people who support the Israeli government's actions in Gaza" to "people who believe that Israel has a right to exist and the Jewish people have the right to self-determination." We had meant it in the context of the former definition, but we understand that many Jewish people identify with the later, including many people who are disgusted by the Israeli government's actions in Gaza, and we should have been more sensitive to this fact. Additionally, we would like to reiterate that, to our knowledge, nobody who has appeared on Dropout has openly stated support for the Israelie's actions in Gaza, and several of those accused have voiced their support for a free Palestine. We would like to take this moment to remind everyone that just because a person is Jewish, and may have ties to Israel, does not inherently mean they condone the actions of the Israeli government in Gaza, and to suggest otherwise is antisemitic. We at Dropout reject all forms of antisemitism and are committed to providing a safe space to everyone regardless of religion or ethnic background. We apologize if we made the Jewish members of our community feel like that was not the case."

See how easy that was? I feel something like this is the bear minimum, and if you had said the things in the last three paragraphs from the start, you could have avoided having to say everything in the first two paragraphs and the apology at the end.

That's...pretty much everything I have to say on the matter. To anyone reading this: Do not use other Jewish people to silence Jewish voices.

Do not use people of other marginalized groups to silence Jewish voices.

Just...maybe just listen to what we have to say without twisting our words and putting words in our mouths? Maybe?

Thanks for reading.

I'm so tired.

[thecr0w]

Home

p.1, ~1k words

ghoap/nanny reader, in which shes roped in to care for a poorly johnny who just wants his big family :(

[tags/cw; dubcon, noncon, breeding, use of alcohol, implied death, threats of violence, overall weird and creepy johnny, actually deranged johnny, simon’s off his rocker, blackmailing, ect.]

AAAAAAAAA i’ve been thinking about this for literally so long, im sorry it’s so so short i just needed to get it out :( it’s my first big-girl fic, and the first part. thanks @ceilidho for letting me spit this idea to you! btw, NOT beta-read. im sorry.

It was a gloomy day when you got the news you would lose your job, something about budget cuts and lack of funding. It was gloomy again, a month later when you found yourself short on rent. Cold, cloudy and gray when you got your eviction notice. No warnings, just a handwritten letter commanding your evacuation in a months time. Signed by your landlord. Nights of manic panic, rushing to pack and overwhelmed with the prospect of selling all your worldly possessions to afford a shitty motel room seemed to fly by.

The dim light of your phone illuminated your dark bedroom, scrolling through a less than ideal advertising website, reduced to this after exhausting all other resources. Rejection email after rejection email piled up in your inbox, fueling your anxiety like no other.

You scanned the listings, some odd and some underpaying labor jobs littered across the page. Suddenly, bold black letters flashed across your screen. It states simply, ‘Live-in nanny needed to assist first time dad. Give me a ring.’ This has to be a scam. It’s too good to be true, a job and a place to stay? A smile cracks across your face as you click on the listing. It offers no other information, just a phone number at the bottom of the advert. You think for a second, then decide that you’re out of options completely and this is better than a concrete pillow. Your heart flutters as you punch the numbers in, hesitating just a beat before pressing the green ‘call’ button.

It rings for about a minute, and hope exits your body with every monotone mechanical sound. Voicemail. Fuck. You hang up, groaning as you fall back onto your bed and allow your phone to drift from your clammy hands to your chest. The droning sound of a fan overtakes your thoughts.

Your phone vibrates loudly on your sternum, jolting you upright. The number feels unfamiliar, but you’re certain it’s the one from the nanny listing. You accept the call.

“Yeah?” A gruff voice on the other end greeted, followed by a loud blowing sound, as if he were smoking. You could smell the cigarette through the phone.

“Oh, hi! I’m calling about the nanny ad, I’m very-“

“Have any experience?” He cut you off, blowing sound accompanying his accented voice again.

“Oh yes, I-“

“Right. Meet me at that coffee place ‘round the corner of 5th in an hour.”

The line went silent.

“Um.. okay, see you soon.” you called after, to which you were met with no response. A look at your home screen revealed he had already hung up.

Thirty minutes later, you began your walk to the designated shop. Maybe being early would show some initiative for the job, or maybe it would look pathetic. Your mother always said to show up early to everything, anyway.

The coffee shop is quiet, few patrons sprinkled few and far between the tables and booths. The smell of brewing coffee is so strong it makes you nauseous. The back of your neck tingles and you can feel eyes burning through your skull. You turn to look, and a pair of brown eyes meet yours.

God, if looks could kill.

A tall, wide man tears into you, unmoving in his gaze. Jesus, not even a blink. He sits almost a foot taller than the back of the booth, black surgical mask barely covering an ugly scar etched across his cheek. His hood shadows his face, dark hoodie tight over thick biceps.

Is this guy real?

You blink, gaze faultering and searching for a break from contact. Uneasiness floods your stomach and you contemplate just walking back out and going to bed. He whistles quickly as soon as you turn your head back, motioning with his finger to sit. You follow.

“You must be the dad about the nanny gig? I didn’t catch your name, sorry.”

“Didn’t give it to you.”

You inhale and nod.

“Well, we’re both here a little early.” You look him over in an attempt to find something to connect on. “I like your tattoos.” you try, suddenly finding your hands awkward on the table.

“Can you handle a baby?”

You nod, eyes shooting up to meet his. He hasn’t stopped looking directly into your eyes, and it’s making you nervous. You haven’t seen him blink yet.

“What about a man? Cooking, cleaning? Can you keep the place nice?”

“I can, I used to babysit my neighbors, little cousins. I have a clean record, I don’t drink, and I can keep a nice house.”

He stays quiet for a minute too long, and you’re ready to accept defeat.

“You can have the guest room, I’ll send you your pay at the end of the week. Here’s my number, call me when you’re all packed up and I’ll pick you up.”

“Today?”

“Before next week.”

He slides a napkin across the table to you, smudged ink scribbled over the thin paper. Before you can ask anything else, he’s already sliding out of the booth. He groans loudly as he stretches popping joints, arms extended high in the air. You catch a glimpse of his hairy belly when his hoodie rides up. His eyes meet yours when you hastily look away, and you could swear a smirk hides under that little mask of his.

“Is that all? I’m hired?”

He nods and walks away, never looking back as he exits the cafe. A shiver erupts up your spine, an uncomfortable churning presses in your stomach. Maybe it’s just too weird, maybe you’re being too weird, maybe you’re overthinking something so simple- but he wouldn’t stop staring. A low hiss emanates from the small tv mounted on the wall, catching your attention.

A nature documentary. A panther sits atop a tree, staring attentively at something small on the grassy earth below. A deer flicks its ears, some primal instinct allowing it to be somewhat aware of danger. It flicks its head around, scanning its surroundings for the source. The panther pounces, sinking its sharp fangs into the fragile neck of the doe beneath it.

You look away as the deer begins to bleat pathetically.

[ronearoundblindly]

Hideout (3.1)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Sensitive Boy, part I (see previous or series)

Summary: Steve surprises you with help at the perfect time.

Warnings for light smut (I have to split this chapter or it's just suddenly twice as long as the last, but really there's just massage and an implied orgasm in this half. You know me: too many feels and too much development...) MINORS DNI. This series is 18+ only. If you are underage or simply enjoy lighter content, there is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this post is not for you! WC 3.2k

With so much on your mind, scaring the crap out of you is not difficult, so his strong hands hold you upright.

“Don’t do that,” you shriek, barely glancing at Steve’s face. You startled so suddenly your housekeeping cart is left rolling away at a snail’s pace.

“Sorry, I—“ long arms abandon you and reach to stop the bin “—it said on your website you were closed for renovations, and…”

You look him up and down. You were sure after he left two months ago that you’d never see him again. You’d gone too far. You’d pushed him too hard. He wasn’t ready.

Steve adjusts the strap over his shoulder. “I thought maybe I could help out…if you want?”

The last guests checked out a half-hour ago, and you readied to spend the whole week meticulously refreshing each room with your parents. The list of what needs done, however, doesn’t only include the motel. There’s a bunch you all had let slide up at the house. Help would…be extremely helpful actually.

Steve pulls a paper bag out of his knapsack. “Or I brought you some lunch if you just want a break or something.”

“It’s okay,” you rush out. “More than okay. Thank you, yes. We’d love—I’d love that.”

No one else can know it’s him-him there though. You’ll have to think of a way to keep your parents and St-‘Grant’ as far apart as possible, and how long you can manage that is…questionable.

If Steve’s not worried though, you’re okay.

Turns out, keeping your family up at the house is easy. Your mom shouts down the phone with relief that she can tackle the fridge, and you hear your dad mumble something about ‘the garage in daylight.’ You can enjoy a sandwich in the office with Steve in peace, explaining what all needs done before the electricians show up Friday afternoon.

The closure hasn’t been planned for a long time—not even before Steve and ‘Tom’s’ last visit—hence why you just painted Room 8, 5, 2, and 1 since March, but doing all those is how you and your parents really noticed that the light fixtures from the ‘90s were not only dated but very worn and that the same color layered over and over again for twenty years was, well, getting old.

Warmer months are better for the work. Pipes won’t freeze while you air out paint fumes, etc. The week after the gigantic, city festivities of Independence Day is notoriously dead. Since there were no reservations this stretch as of April, the family jumped at the chance to fix it all in one big, daunting go.

Saying you’d looked forward to this is a wild overstatement. You’ll be glad when it’s finished, and that’s the bulk of your excitement.

With his assistance though? Hope soars.

Steve will help you take down the sconces, the hanging lamps, and the panels above the vanities, then you both can—

“Where’s the paint?”

He’s very intense with the gameplan. Three guesses why.

“Dad’s gonna pick it up today. Probably. I’ll text him.” You whip out your cell again. “We didn’t think we’d get that far by evening.”

Steve nods.

“We also need to move all the furniture away from the walls and drape plastic to protect the carpet. Oh, and put tape along the trim and doorframes, ya know.”

Steve nods again. He wads up the wrapping from his sandwich and casually asks, “are all the doors open?”

You only just get your finger in the air to point at the desk.

“Master key is—“

But Steve is observant and has clocked everything about his surroundings each time he’s stayed, apparently. He stretches over to the wall beyond the counter, snatches the (correct) unmarked key, and heads out the door.

The service bell rings gently to emphasize the conversation is over.

All furniture in every room is pulled away by the time you finish sanitizing the one guest room he interrupted.

He asks where you keep the ladder, not that he’ll need it, but you will for reaching some of the lights.

You don’t know whether to be in awe of or exhausted by his efficiency.

He’s rigid and militant—go figure—until these few moments he suddenly can’t be.

As you toss plastic over the last bed to move, Steve yanks that sucker across the floor so fast, you roll off. His eyes are saucers as he apologizes, but you get the giggles and pick yourself up.

His fingers can’t separate thin layers of the plastic at one point, and he throws a minor fit until three rip apart together. Steve frowns at you and grumbles that he’s only ever used cloth for this before. It seems to take everything in his power not to say “back in my day,” but you can read between the lines.

Years of crusted paint makes the removal of some fixtures tricky.

Steve rips out one stripped screw with needle nose pliers, squeaks in alarm at the hole left behind, and then quietly asks if you have patch paste.

You call your dad before he’s left to buy paint. He adds spackling to the list.

The closest Steve comes to telling you anything specifically about himself is when you struggle with a stuck bolt.

“Just a little trick I learned when I was—“ Steve wraps his big hand around yours to pull the wrench instead of push from the other direction “—smaller.” He huffs out a laugh, adding, “when I couldn’t, ya know, ‘put my weight into it’ because a feather could’a knocked me over.”

As you relish the simple contact of his fingers, you smile, too.

“Hmm. I heard you got into back alley scrapes.”

“If you heard that I won any of those, you were lied to.” He patiently waits for you to finish removing the bolt before he pries the aged metal and glass away from the old paint it’s stuck in. Steve sighs dramatically.

“Shoddy education these days…”

“I…” You tap his bicep with the claws of the wrench. “I can’t argue with that. We hear only what they tell us about…heroes.”

You should have known he’d shut down at that word, but it’s the truth. Even with him right in front of you, the only things you know about Steve Rogers are from books, newspapers, and the internet. At face value—looking directly into the face of this man—all of what you’ve been told is hogwash. It’s insufficient. It barely covers 1% of who this man is.

He teaches you tricks of the weak man’s trade because it helped him once, too. Today, he’s friendly. Not that he was unfriendly before, but Steve is so reserved he never reference the past, in general, i.e. that there was a past existence of like the planet much less him.

It’s the number one rule of Fight Club: you don’t talk about Fight Club.

If there was ever a real fight club, it’s the Avengers.

You have no official rules for what this is between you. You don’t have to to know that is the most important one. You do not talk about Fight Club. Steve isn’t afraid of silence, that much is clear, but he isn’t a fan. He tries—he is trying—to connect and relate. He can’t be a man of the people, however, if he can’t talk to the people. 

It’s important: connection. You know with every fiber of your being that Steve deserves it, but even with unlimited, super-human strength, he cannot get himself out from between this rock and that hard place.

You do not talk about Fight Club, especially when you’ve been kicked out of Fight Club.

Today, though, he’s a little different, a little softer. Perhaps it’s knowing there are no other people in the building, perhaps he is truly more comfortable with you, but either way, Steve is not flat or off-putting.

His organized persona, his focus on the work, his indirect interactions and practical touch; they all fit here while he has a project. It’s the closest he can be to his old self, maybe even his real self, without mentioning the past—the fighting past—at all.

“You’re really good company,” you tell Steve, “even when you make holes in the walls.”

He tilts his head down and blushes. He shrugs as he takes the sconce out to the dumpster. Although he didn’t say it, you hope this is okay.

Either way, you relish it. The help. The touch. The silence. All of it.

You relish Steve.

Your dad brings by the paint, spackling, and a surprise of pizza for dinner while Steve is taping the baseboards in a corner. You introduce ‘Grant’ from afar and haul the cans and boxes from the car to the room, cataloguing all you two have finished to this point and what you’ll do before stopping for the night.

Dad is impressed. He’d suspected the three of you—you, he, and Mom, that is—might settle for slapping some paint up around where the electrician would install the new lights. No one planned on getting this far in one evening.

He won’t stand in the way of progress, so your dad simply calls out, “bit of an artist, are ya?”

Steve looks up, confident with only the side table lamps plugged in, he can barely be seen. “Just want to be useful,” he mutters.

You wink at your dad as he heads back to the still-running car. “Grant is a jack of all trades.”

You’re sure to thank him for the food and let him know all the motel stuff is completely covered for tomorrow, too. You’ll work as late as you can and start as early as possible.

Dad says your friend has gone ‘above and beyond.’ You agree wholeheartedly.

‘Grant’ would more aptly be described as a machine.

All the furniture moved, all the lights taken down, all bordering taped, and now all blemishes in the walls smoothed, your impromptu contractor finally calls it quits when he’s forced to watch stuff dry.

You’ve kept the air conditioning going in one room.

Steve tentatively asks if he should walk you up to the house, but you counter with “it’s not any less dangerous for an average guy alone to return” and a cheeky smirk. Besides, it is very late. You let Captain OCD keep going; you tapped out a while ago.

He puts his hands on his hips, arms akimbo, thinking of a comeback that never manifests. After giving up, Steve takes his tiny bag into the bathroom and brushes his teeth.

You can faintly hear it over the murmur of the TV.

You aren’t really watching. It’s background noise to your general exhaustion.

With only a side lamp and the screen as light, Steve’s bare feet crumple over the discarded plastic sheet on the floor. He falls into one side of the bed, fully-clothed and (finally) tired.

Though productive, the day has been a distant one, working in different rooms for most of it and tiptoeing around real conversation. You want him to feel appreciated, not pressured, so you ask if he’d like the TV on for a while or would rather quiet.

Steve just grunts with his eyes closed.

Gently, you place a hand on his chest to steady you, leaning to kiss his bearded cheek.

“Thank you, Steve,” you say softly. “Good night.”

He hums when you say his name, and before you can lift your hand away, he captures it under his, holding you in place.

His eyes aren’t open. He can’t see you smile wider.

“Okay.” You tuck yourself into his chest as he raises his other arm out of the way. “Okay.”

Your ear sits in the dip beneath his collarbone, listening to his steady heart, his thumb sweeping back and forth over you knuckles.

He smushes you closer to his side. You toss your leg over his.

You forget to turn off the TV.

He’s sanding the spackled spots by the time you wake, so you rub across his back and dismiss yourself to get breakfast up at the house.

Steve makes no effort to go with, which is fine. You assumed as much.

Your dad calls Grant a ‘magician’ over the pop of oil in the skillet and insists you give your friend whatever he needs to keep working so fast. You are only half-joking when you admit the key is staying out of his way.

Bonus: the exchange reinforces your parents simply leaving the two of you alone down the hill, and you proudly tell Steve that when delivering him an enormous plate of scrambled eggs.

He jumps right back into planning-mode and orders you to roll the first coat of paint onto large areas. He’ll follow, completing the edges and corners.

It’s such a domestic thing to do. There is no one in danger, there are no bodies piling up if he makes a wrong move, and he can go faster or take his sweet time. Steve breaks when he wants or needs to. He sits outside and listens to the birds in the sunshine. No one is around to question him, not even you. You are only there to encourage.

You realize he was looking for a project. He’s used to—and likes—being busy, getting his hands dirty, producing results.

It’s a long, messy day where he becomes more serene in spirit the more intensely he works. You reward him with gentle sweeps of your hand down his arms, pats on his shoulders, and brushes at the small of his back.

Despite the almost constant movement, the day is over before you know it, earlier than yesterday, but it’s too hot to go on.

All the windows stay open to air out the fumes.

Though it won’t stop you from sweating, you both shower off as many splatters and flecks of paint as you can. You insist he goes first so there’s plenty of hot water.

He’s sitting on the bed, shirtless, checking his phone when you come out of the bathroom, but he immediately squirrel the device away in his small bag. Not much to carry around. Not much to leave behind. Steve can’t leave a trace of himself anywhere.

Hunched over and fatigued, he flashes a polite smile your way and blinks heavily.

He deserves the world.

You grab the small bottle of lotion from the countertop and playfully jump onto the bed behind him.

“How about a massage, yeah? You much be aching.”

Honestly, you don’t mean for it to sound sexual, but the phrase comes out downright dirty, making Steve awkwardly chuckle.

“You don’t have to,” he placates.

“Nonsense, I want to. It’ll make the air feel cooler.” That’s as good of an excuse as any. Who cares when the rippled expanse of his back flexes wildly in your touch?

His breathes are audible from the beginning.

You dig at his traps, his leg bouncing as he tries to relax. You use your thumbs, the flats of your hands, and your knuckles.

He shoves his fist in his mouth when he starts to moan, covering the move with a cough, but muffling the noise is abandoned in favor of clasping over his lap. He’s intent on hiding his hardness this time. There’s nothing you can say to truly lessen the sting of needing more. You can’t simply tell him he’s allowed to desire this; you have to ignore his misplaced shame.

But you can take pity on him.

“If you lie flat—“ you step off the bed to give him privacy “—I’ll have more leverage.”

You hear him crawl and adjust on the sheets. “Unlike the torque on a wrench,” you add, just to show you’ve been listening to him.

More lotion is needed for the surface area.

You turn up the TV, feining interest in the late night show so any noise he makes is not as obvious. What the speakers can’t cover, however, is Steve’s involuntary thrusts when you rub the heels of you palms up and down the sides of his spine. If you prop up on your knees, he has more range of motion and doesn’t obviously rock you while mindlessly humping the bed.

His sweats are slung low on his hips, two darts of muscle prominent above his ass.

They are irresistible, the perfect grooves to target and roll into, and he immediately mewls long and deep into the mattress, fingers curling and relaxing while his body seizes.

He hasn’t even finished coming, you think, before he taps at your leg and races to the bathroom.

You hope you didn’t push too far. You hope he’d tell you to stop if he needs more space, more time. Mostly, you hope he knows you’d give him every conceivable pleasure, just because he is him.

The water runs a long time, continuous splashing in the sink, and then nothing.

He didn’t bring much because he doesn’t have much. Your heart sinks, realizing you’ve made him soil one of only two pairs of pants he has here.

He cracks open the door, muttering, but you can’t make out the words.

You turn the volume back down. “What?”

“It pretty hot.” He clears his throat. “Would you mind if I sleep…without…?”

“Naked?” you squeak before composing yourself. “That’s fine. Whatever’s comfortable.”

You shuffle up the bed to click off the lamps. This man isn’t the type to strut around in the nude—yet, anyway—so in the faint and ever-shifting glow of the screen across the room very little can be seen.

‘Little,’ however, can’t describe anything that is visible about the man emerging from the bathroom.

You have to make a point not to stare, but no skit or commercial on the channel promises the same level of entertainment.

Steve slides himself beneath the sheet, sitting near the headboard.

You hold up the remote. “On or off?”

“Off,” he says, “please.”

You’ve certainly done enough for one day. You won’t push your luck, so you hit the power button, toss it on table, and snuggle into your half of the bed, facing away.

“If it’s too hot for any covers, that’s okay, too.”

A rustling interrupts the rhythmic whir of crickets in the night until you feel a warm hand lightly mold to your waist.

This should be encouraged. This should be rewarded.

“Hey, Stevie,” you whisper, waiting for his hum, “happy belated birthday.”

At most you expect a grip of notice, but instead, the big hand snakes across you and hauls you into his chest, his long legs bending to match the crook of yours, his nose and forehead tucked against your occipital.

“We did okay today,” Steve mumbles into your shirt.

You walk your hand over your stomach to find his, lacing the fingers together. “Yes. Yes, we did.”

Steve got to be useful today. He had a partner today. He will tomorrow and the day after, for as long as he stays, for as long as you’re alive. Nothing can change that.

Maybe he can’t talk about Fight Club, but he connects with you anyway.

A/N: Whoopsy. Didn't want to make y'all wait for a 6k+ chapter, so here's the first half! I am DEEP in the feels of this one. So, so many notes have been taken. The brainrot is real, and I fucking love it!!!!

[Next: Sensitive Boy, part II]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @spectre-posts @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @im-a-slut-for-fluff @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza  @claireelizabeth85 @jamneuromain @rach2602 @royalwritersoftheuniverses @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @trudy-shams @saranghaey @awkwardgiraffe726 @marvelmenwhore @happinessinthebeing @before-we-get-started @sjsmith56 @esposadomd @cjand10 @yearningforsappho @mrsevans90

[dansemacabre]

are you stuck trying to decode the book of bill but you don’t want the keys handed to you? i was in your shoes literally three days ago! i failed and looked up codes on reddit (because a good grade in book of bill is a normal thing to want and a possible thing to get) but now you don’t have to!! here are some BOOK OF BILL CODEBREAKING HINTS designed to kindly shove you in the right direction!

my credentials are: one summer cryptography class i took in high school, autism, weirdly good pattern recognition (probably because of the autism), and a desperate need to make things make sense. sorry in advance if any of this seems patronizing. hints below the page break!!

general tips:

- A and I will become your bestest friends. like 99 times out of 100 any single letter is a or i. try those out first

- the apostrophe will also become your bestest friend- especially x’x, which will almost always be i’m (except there’s one place in the book where it is not. don’t make my mistakes.)

- themysteryofgravityfalls.com is SO so helpful. for non-symbolic ciphers u can lowkey put in codes and button mash caesar and atbash. godsend. devilsend? idk someone sent it and it’s wonderful

- call every phone number, visit every website. they bought those domains for a reason! i think!

- any list of numbers 1-26 is a1z26. like that’s simply a truth

cipher specific hints now !!!

RUNES (characters taken from norse runes)

- there is a key for this one in the book! maybe u spotted it right away but i did not lol, so look for an instance of 26 rune-y characters!

- the rune code on the inside cover is a graffiti joke- translates to a common thing people write on walls or carve into books made out of brain matter ig

THERAPESE (found in the last few pages during bills court-ordered therapy)

- bill’s picture is labeled in this section, so those characters translate directly to “bill cipher” ! once you have those, you can apply them to other instances of the code and go from there

- the rest of the names of the… things around him on the inpatients page are puns, titles, and/or weird words. they might look wrong until you have Every Character- trust ur key! use the rest of the instances of this code to find the missing letters first, make sense of it and laugh at the clever little joke later

BROSCODE (only two instances, found in journal 3 lost pages)

- the name is a hint by itself- this is stanley and stanford related! both stans use it once somewhere in the book!

NEWBILL (the most common symbolic cipher in the book)

- if you have journal three, the characters are VERY similar to a code there- not the same though, so don’t try and use that key. but like journal three, this code will (almost) always be bill speaking.

- ok lowkey i think the best way to explain this is just to give you one answer. i cracked this by randomly guessing that the small writing by the galaxy drawing on the journal three page “a voice form the past” translates to “forget the past”. go from there my loves

- that being said. everything else from journal three uses the same characters, but a different code. haven’t cracked it yet. looking for advice tee bee haych. i’ll edit this once i find it out

- also: dipper uses this code in his section. that’s pretty helpful to get most of the rest of the characters!

now some page specific hints!:

silly straw page. Oh god

- damn that themysteryofgravityfallsdotcom sure is helpful! Anyway,

- the numbers code is Weird. but the number don’t equal letters. notice the spaces between number groups- pair the groups, try and add a dash somewhere within the first group and a colon somewhere within the second group. you’ll have to use your resources a little

- if that made zero sense: “uhvrxufhv” phdqv brxu idyrulwh ghhsob ohjdo wy vkrz ylhzlqj zhevlwh. ru brxu kxox dffrxqw

- sorry for the vagueness but i really don’t want to spoil this one- i got it spoiled but i think figuring it out on your own would be really rewarding and worth your Time

messages on your tv

- there are strange boxes on the bottom of the page. gonna be so honest don’t know how they mean anything at all to anyone but allegedly it’s a code! i’ll look into it. idk man

okay. i think that’s all i’ve got? please comment if u have questions for me or other folks on here or suggestions on how to sound less like a fucking nerd talking abt this shit. idk i love that people are set on cracking this book asap but i hope this helps ppl who prefer The Thrill Of The Chase and also like to feel smart and important and so very talented

[ms-demeanor]

Not to be rude or derailing your answer to the ask about the scorched earth post, but I do think quite genuinely that the site is becoming more openly hostile to its userbase, or at the very least its disabled userbase. While I’m not a fan of mobbing people’s personal blogs in targeted harassment campaigns, I think some people are also ignoring that staff blatantly said in a recent post that epileptic users would need to pay for ad-free to have their safety assured

I kind of don’t think that’s being ethical or user friendly, to me that sounds like they’re refusing to meet basic accessibility requests and answering with ‘pay us money to be safe’. Strobing and flashing ads aren’t just eyestraining, they can legitimately lead to serious injuries for epileptic folk, and telling people with epilepsy to just pay up or get lost is kinda… I dunno… disgusting?

So it looks like in a livestream (not on a post so far as I've been able to see) either photomatt or zingring made a glib and inappropriate response to an epileptic user asking about flashing ads and suggested that maybe they needed to pay for ad-free.

That's bad, I don't like it, and if it was supposed to be a joke it was a shitty one.

Zingring, tumblr's COO addressed that comment in a post where she said:

Buying ad-free (or gifting ad-free to someone else) is always an option, but that is not the solution (and of course, some folks simply can’t afford it). Sorry that it sounded dismissive in the session! That was not my intent.

I still think that's inappropriate (it's not that ad free isn't *the* solution, ad free shouldn't be *a* solution to accessibility), but it looks like Zingring has addressed this issue multiple times.

She got tagged in this post listing ways that tumblr could improve accessibility for photosensitive users and seems to have pretty consistently followed up; she has explained that there are rules against flashing ads that are sometimes violated by the advertisers and asks people to please report ads that break those rules so those advertisers can be blocked, has noted that there is apparently a "stop all autoplay" option in the works behind the scenes. She does also seem to take it seriously when users reach out with complaints about accessibility issues and seems to be willing to explore options.

Looking through that blog, this does not seem to be a site that is hostile to users with accessibility issues so much as, like everything else that's wrong around here, it is ridiculously understaffed so every project that someone wants to have as a priority is a project that someone else needs put on the backburner.

However, to very gently push back: how much of what you're experiencing as hostility from tumblr is actual hostility and how much of it is seeing posts like this, which suggests that tumblr is removing accessibility features because the lightbox didn't have double-tap-to-zoom on mobile for some users for a short while, claims that the blocking/flagging issue is a false flag against trans women, shared the inaccurate fearmongering post about tumblr live's ToS, and also claimed that tumblr "allowed" flashing ads that violated the in-place rules that tumblr has for advertising?

(this kind of goes with the 'nobody understands the ToS' but also nobody understands ads; tumblr does not have enough staff to look over the ads that go on their site every day, no social media company does, they rely on advertiser agreements as a sort of enhanced honor system and reports from users if the advertisers don't hold up their end of the bargain; the only way around this for any site that uses ads is to not have ads and that post is explicitly saying don't pay for tumblr because they are doing ads wrong - either they have to run ads and some bad ones are going to slip through and users will have to report them or tumblr will have to be 100% paid by the users or tumblr will go away. If you see ads that are unsafe for photosensitive users on *any* website you should report them to the site because the site almost certainly doesn't know that there's an advertiser violating the ad ToS unless someone tells them)

Generally speaking, I am actually *not* seeing worsening accessibility features, I'm seeing improvements compared to where we were five years ago - alt text on images is now built-in and devs are working hard on making tumblr more compatible with screen readers (as noted in the changes blog regularly); tumblr itself started offering different dashboard themes for users after years of complaints about contrast levels and readability; the "tiktok/twitterified" desktop dash view that everyone hates is supposed to be more readable on wider screens.

Compare this post in October of 2022 when Changes celebrated adding animations for posting (and told users those could only be disabled at an OS or browser level) with this post from July 2023 when they rolled back a feature because of an unexpected use case that could cause problems for photosensitive users.

These aren't things that I'd expect to see from a company that didn't care about accessibility, or that was openly hostile to questions around making the site more accessible.

I don't disagree with you that the comment from the stream about buying ad free was inappropriate; it absolutely was and it must have made photosensitive users feel like shit. But in the three months since that comment tumblr has been very responsive about getting flashing ads removed as soon as possible and seems to be working on more permanent fixes. I think this may be an instance of able-bodied people not realizing how shitty and dehumanizing their joke was (and it was) and taking the steps to do better.

If you don't think they're doing better, I probably can't convince you. I certainly don't think that tumblr is perfect about accessibility and I think that users need to continue pushing for improved user control of how the site displays and interacts with various devices. But compared to the kind of responses users complaints got from staff in 2018? I feel like things have improved a lot.

[potato-lord-but-not]

“There’s something aesthetically pleasing about the word noon. Its palindromic spelling feels appropriate for the middle of the day, when the sun is directly overhead and the hands on the clock are pointed upward in a straight line. It’s even spelled with letters found more or less in the middle of the alphabet.” (“What Time Is…” par. 1)

Perhaps unfortunately for my argument, this article goes on to explain how the word ‘noon’ originally referred to the ninth hour of the day, that of course being 3 o’clock; because the sun and with it the people rose at six. It is derived from the Latin word for ‘ninth’, ‘nonus’. The word’s meaning apparently shifted during the twelfth century, because of the prayers of monastic orders. The second of three daily prayers would occur at noon, and the time of this prayer eventually became earlier, landing at twelve. This is believed to have been so the monks could break their fast sooner. Of course, this is not universally agreed upon and other theories include shifts in seasonal daylit hours, and European Medieval people’s struggles to have accurate timekeeping.

None of my sources suggest that three o’clock was considered the middle of the day at any point in time, therefore I would like to argue that the word noon did not originally refer to the middle of the day, but eventually, when it was given to the time that is more deserving of that title, came to do so. I believe that the denotation “middle of the day” is something that is both scientifically and culturally awarded, and that for whatever reason the people (however unknowingly) creating the Old/Middle English language believed twelve o’clock to be so. If you wish to create your own cultural norms, by all means go ahead, just remember that the word culture refers to a group, so you’ll need to find some people who agree with you. (Which, hey, maybe you already have, maybe most people agree with you and I’m just being pedantic.)

Anyways um hi, sorry about this, I did in fact make a tumblr account solely to send you this, because the idea of doing so was too funny to me to not.  Also, I just discovered that the Oxford English Dictionary website has a pay wall these days and I am DEVASTATED I tell you, devastated. But yeah, I’ll stop, have a good weekend, I love you, I hope your morning spent on public transit hasn’t been too boring.

Works Cited

“Culture Definition & Meaning.” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/culture. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.

“Noon (n.).” Online Etymology Dictionary, www.etymonline.com/word/noon. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.

“What Time Is ‘Noon’?” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, www.merriam-webster.com/wordplay/noon-history-ninth-prayer-hour-nones. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.

OFC you’re leaving citations on A TUMBLR ASK OH MY GODDD anyway I do believe I’m starting a cultural shift because everyone I’ve asked so far has NOT said mid-day is noon they’ve ranged from 11-1 to 1-2 (albeit a bit earlier than my 2-3 answer but STILL)

Yknow what fuck it let’s do a poll bb

anyywayyyy everyone say hi to my girlfrienddd give them a nice warm welcome to tumblr <3

[traumasurvivors]

Here’s a link to a blog post on my personal website on a topic that I think is very important.

I’ve also put it below the read more for people that don’t like external links. But if you're okay with it, checking it out on my personal website is really nice (and even giving it a heart if you can)! I don't make money from my website, so there are no intrusive ads or anything like that to stop you from reading the article.

Embracing Your Inner Child

This applies to anyone, but I really want to emphasize this to my fellow survivors who went through trauma as children and/or teenagers.

I’m so sorry you lost part, most or all of your childhood. That doesn’t mean it’s too late to give your inner child what you can. This includes comfort but it also includes doing the things you didn’t get to if you can.

Play the fun games. Buy the tasty treats. Go on adventures.

It’s never too late to feel a little more of the kind of joy you had (or should have had) as a child. You may not be able to be a child again, but you can still help and support your inner child.

You might have been told that a fun idea you had was “silly” or even “stupid.” When you have those thoughts now, instead of rejecting it, embrace the “silly” idea and let yourself enjoy it. It’s not shameful or wrong to do the things your inner child wants to do. It’s okay to be “immature” sometimes, even if you’re twenty years old. Or thirty. Or sixty. I just want to say that I don’t think any of this is immature, but I know that is a bias and judgement a lot of us might pass on ourselves. 

A short, not at all complete list of things you might do for your inner child:

Watch childhood movies or tv shows (Did you watch “Blues Clues”, or “Pokemon”? Maybe “The Land Before Time”? There’s no reason you can’t still enjoy them.)

Listen to “silly” music, maybe singing along or dancing to it (for me, one favourite is “I Just Can’t Wait To Be King” from The Lion King. I know every word and have a dance party everytime it comes on my shuffle.)

Go to the park and use the swings (I don’t know why, but flying up just a few feet can make me forget all my “grown-up” worries)

Have a treat just because (maybe that big sundae your parents never let you have, or the chicken nuggets you haven’t had in a decade). Maybe you want to fulfil your childhood dream of having ice cream for breakfast! 

Go to the toy store - maybe even get some stuffed animals or other toy items. (I just recently realized that I can fulfill my childhood dream of collecting certain toys that I never got to have when I was younger!) 

Ride a roller coaster and scream your head off on the way down (I like to try to be in the very first car)

Make creative, crafty stuff - like a painting or drawing, or decorating a picture on construction paper with googly eyes and glitter or a clay model with a weirdly shaped head (even if the result looks like something you’d expect to see in a kindergarten class, or the process makes a mess that looks like a glitter bomb went off)

Another aspect of embracing your inner child is trying to give your inner child the person you needed when you were a child. 

This might mean standing up for yourself when others try to put you down or take credit for things you’ve done, even (or especially) if no one else spoke up for you when you were a child. 

It might mean offering comfort and compassion to yourself, and not being too hard on yourself when you make mistakes that you would have been insulted for as a child or don’t know something that “everyone learns as a child.” Maybe now you can teach yourself that accidents happen, and spilling a drink or breaking a plate is not the disaster and failure of character that you were told as a child. 

It might mean being patient with yourself when something is harder to do than you feel like it should be (whether you actually aren’t able to do it as easily as others, or you have unrealistic expectations of its difficulty because of the expectations put on you as a child). There are lots of instructional videos out there to help you to gain basic cooking or cleaning skills. If you never really learned to read, there are programs to help you. If you weren’t allowed or able to learn to manage your emotions or relationships in healthy ways, there’s help out there for you. There is absolutely no shame in not learning any kind of skills you feel you “should” have learned as a child, and it is okay to learn them as an adult.

You may have had to grow up too fast. You may not have been allowed to do the fun things. You may have suffered trauma that shattered your childhood. I’m here to tell you that you still have an inner child, and embracing that inner child is good for you. Just because you’re an adult, at any age, doesn’t mean that you’re too old to have fun.

No one else gets to decide what’s right for you - you get to decide what you enjoy and what you want.

And it’s never too late to remember, indulge, listen to, and embrace your inner child. Let them be a part of how you choose to move forward. It’s time for us to realize that there is no one way to be an adult, and we get to decide what being an adult means to us. And if that means I want to rent a bouncy castle for my birthday, then that is my perfectly valid version of an adult birthday (a birthday which my inner child would be thrilled about, by the way).

[alltheboysandgirlsiloved]

I keep thinking about Ben in Chaos Theory (everybody's so surprised). Trying to figure out things that just feel odd – the van, his lifestyle, the way he hesitated the first time he was talking about his girlfriend from Europe (like come on, it was unnatural as hell) and I just... hear me out.

One of the things that Ben struggled with in Camp Cretaceous was living up to everyone's expectations, crossing his own boundaries etc. I mean, the reason he went to the Camp in the first place was because his mum wanted that – wanted him to come out of his shell etc etc. She seemed very loving but a parent can be loving and have some expectations towards their child.

So what if at some point, in between Camp Cretaceous and Chaos Theory Ben came out to his mother and she didn't take it well? Maybe it was just the first reaction but we all know Ben - sometimes he makes decisions very hastily. So she didn't take it well (maybe she just didn't react the way he imagined her to react idk) and he decided to just... live on his own in his van for a while, take a break from his studies, distance himself, give himself space? And since she didn't react well, he started feeling anxious about his identity in general so he created a smokebomb - a supposed girlfriend in Europe. That would explain why he never mentioned it to the campers earlier (it feels like to some extent they stayed in touch, at least until some point), it would also explain why he decided to live in the van, it could also explain why he got so obsessed with that conspiracy theory website - he needed to focus on something else than once again feeling like he's on his own and not living up to everyone's expectations.

I'm not saying that the showrunners will go that way and I must say that it argues a little bit with how loving Ben's mother seemed to be in the season 5 finale but... Idk for not this is the only theory that I came up with.

And you can call me delusional but if Ben really has a girlfriend in Europe the showrunners really could have handle that better - he could still be awkward about it but without making it seem like he doesn't even know where his girlfriend lives for god's sake. Like. I'm sorry. Europe? Really? Benjamin, my sweet, you don't even know the name of the country?

[celezztia]

Taking a stab at writing, I haven’t done it in a while, but I want to help contribute a Professor! Vampire Donna AU and maybe in the future a few spicy one shots, because we are all thirsty.

(I will format this better as I go on, but do enjoy)

Professor! Donna x Fem reader

(May contain fluff, smut, angst in the future, but first chapter is sfw)

After many trials and tribulations, I had managed to score a scholarship to a college in Romania; Miranda’s All Girls University: though you hadn’t hear much of the campus aside from what the schools website conveyed, who are you to pass up an affordable education?

Had you stayed in America, you would spend years paying off these debts, but now your saved money was going towards travels, airplane tickets, apartment down payment and such .

You were the one that applied, got accepted and the first day of college you were ready.

Though as ready as you thought you were, your new life was far more interesting than you had imagined.

You signed up for a Botany course, a few math and English, and an elective in theater. You figured your years in high school being a techie would come in handy.

The professors were fairly bearable, though the Art History professor was quite striking. Intimidating and cold, but as long as you listened, she never really called you out to answer.

Now as you walk towards your Botany class, you pushed the heavy doors open, grunting a bit as you pushed it open.

It was a vast room, build almost like a media center with levels of desks that led down to the board and desk where the professor sat. She was scanning a stack of papers , a pair of red reading glasses hanging off her nose.

You decide to sit in the front of the classroom; mainly because you did always enjoy the sciences, even if you were more right brained.

The room filled slowly, and a few students began talking quietly to one another, the sound of pencils tapping against the desks.

A group of girls came in together, laughing and chatting.

You clicked your phone open, looking at it for the time.

8:02.

The professor sat at her desk, unmoving from her papers as she spoke.

“Do try to enter here in a graceful manner, class had already begun.” She said curtly, her nose crinkling as she continued to read paperwork. The girls quieted down and dispersed among the classroom.

As they sat down, the older woman stood, pushing her glasses back onto her head.

She was quite tall, slender, dressed in all black; a turtleneck, slacks, and a cardigan that draped to her ankles.

Her hair was in a mostly tight bun, a few raven strands fallen to frame her pale face. A discolored scar splotched across her left eye.

She began to pace around, the sounds of her heels clacking against the wooden floor filling the classroom.

“Good morning. I am Professor Beneviento. Please make sure to keep the chit chat to a minimum, or at least to your breaks. I would like to think that I have enough patience for all of you. This class is about the science of plant life, not the unnecessary jargon. Is that understood?”

She waited for a response from the class.

It took a second, but after some nods, she continued.

You couldn't help but absorb her.

She commanded a room fairly well, yet seemingly suave in the process. Her voice was soft, but had a slight roughness that made her sound older than she actually was.

You kept your pen glued to your notebook, hanging off every word this woman spoke in case you needed to jot it down.

The class ended sooner than you realized, and as you grabbed your books and placed them into your bag, Professor Beneviento walked up behind you, leaning over your shoulder.

Your heart jumped to your throat and you dropped the papers in your hands, the pages scattering everywhere.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, as my notes and pages in my binder flew in different directions.

The professor chuckled softly, and began to help you pick up the papers.

I apologized quickly and thanked her as we finished picking them up.

"Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to scare you."she spoke softly as she handed me the stack of papers I haphazardly threw everywhere.

Her voice was as much less commanding than usual. Up close, you realize her eyes were almost crimson. Maybe that was a gene in Europe, you weren’t going to have your first impression of you questioning her features.

Well… second influence at least.

I nodded nervously, realizing how much she towered over me.

She was a lot thinner than I thought, and a lot prettier.

Her dark hair framed her pale face, a few strands falling from her tight bun, her eyes were a striking red, her lips pouty and pursed.

“Y-You’re okay! I just get spooked easily.” I say, my face dusted with pink.

I could’ve sworn the older woman grinned at me for a split second after that comment.

“Your accent, you must be American, yes?”

You nodded.

Her eyes lit up a bit.

"That's good. We have a few other international students this semester. I know this university is pretty new, but I can assure you this is a great school. If you do ever need help with anything, I will do what I can to accommodate.

What is your name again, coda dolce?” She asked, a thick Italian influence in her tone.

You smiled and told her, her expression remaining fairly stoic, but her eyes had softened.

“My name is Y/N, ma’am.”

"What a lovely name. You'll have to pardon me, Y/N, I have to run to another lecture. But do come to me with any questions.”

You nod, and she gives you a smile and a nod before walking past me and exiting the lecture hall, the scent of honeysuckle following.

[rubyredtragedy]

Hiatus announcement and taking my own accountability for shit under the cut.

Hello, my name is Jax, and I'm an addict.

I relapsed recently, but it wasn't with alcohol or any other drug. It's tumblr that I relapsed with. My mental health has been suffering from it, my marriage and kids are starting to suffer from it, the state of my house is starting to suffer from it, and I am starting to suffer and my mental health is just on the decline.

I'm gonna give myself a month, get my house in order, get my crafting business off the ground and maybe start to write my book, but I need to take a break.

As someone in recovery, I'm really ashamed of myself right now. I'm holding myself accountable and taking my inventory.

I'm very sorry to everyone I've recently tried to start interactions with. My real life and my family take priority over this website and I let that priority slip.

If anyone wants to reach out to me on discord, I'll be there. For now, I'm signing off and taking a necessary mental health break.

[cupiddivinearrow]

What is your 💫💫💫Starseed ⭐️ Connection 💫💫💫? PAC Reading

Website Link: (Still a work in progress. So please bare with me)

Hey, check out my website, "Cupid’s Divine Arrow" with this link: https://cupiddivinearrow11.wixsite.com/cupidsdivinearrow-2

Discord link: https://discord.gg/bsWTW7FKbg

Email: cupiddivinearrow1111@gmail.com

(I offer reiki sessions, energy shields, general, love, career, past lives, etc readings, sigils, etc. at reasonable prices…)

Take a moment to close your eyes and breathe, in through your nose, out through your mouth. When your body feels calm, open your eyes and let your intuition guide you to your pile. It’s okay to pick more than one pile!

PILE 1: CHILDREN OF THE COSMOS

Crystal of Choice:

Smoky Quartz

• Keep you grounded if you're doing spiritual work or meditating

• Encourage a deeper connection to the Earth

• Support feelings of peace and calm

• Help you work through personal fears

🌌 KEY INDICATORS 🌌

Balances

Healing Energy

Empathic

Intelligent

Trouble going with the flow

Humanitarians

Spiritual

Innocent, Pure

Magnetic pull to water

Emotional, full of love, guided by love

Self discovery, Finding yourself

Intuitive

Divinely Guided

Mysteries

Unexpected Discoveries

Gaia, Mother Earth, Earth

Animals of Significance:

Parrot:

love, prophecy, verbosity, mediation

Insect:

Feminine power, spirituality, renewal

Chakras of Significance:

Crown chakra

3rd eye chakra

Heart chakra

Astrological Energies of Significance:

Scorpio

Cancer

Pisces

Capricorn

Aquarius

Leo

Pile 1, this group is a very intelligent group. This pile is big on change and exploration. This pile might often have a traumatic past that can be crippling to some.

This pile may also have REALLY BIG HEARTS and moves out of love, most of the time.

The experiences that this pile undergoes are the stepping stones on their path. This pile often goes through changes, are often healing from friends and family, loved ones, that betray them. It’s hard for this pile to trust.

Pile 1, y’all often tap into your intuition due to the inner knowledge that y’all have buried within, knowledge that’s meant to help guide the Earth through the knowledge gathered from past experiences. This pile is meant to keep moving forward, to push through the hardships that could break an individual.

Pile 1, you may be seen as pure, innocent, angelic. Have a fondness to being close to the water.

Overall, this pile has the inner knowledge to push through any hardship, learn from it, and rise up from the ashes like a Phoenix.

Pile 1, you are here, on Earth, to share with the world about Patience. The world is always on the go, maybe this pile too, and it may be a bit difficult to slow down and just be. Be still. Be patient. Wait. But the thing that Pile 1 wants to express to the world that even when there is confusion on your path, being patient and keep in your faith will help push things along. People forget that faith sometimes requires patience, even when things are unclear.

This pile is big hearted, full of love, and nurturing energy. A part of your soul remembers the peace, unity and love that it shared amongst its soul family before having came to Earth and it yearns to feel that again. So when people hurt you, it strikes deep. Because it’s not really here on Earth. Which is the karmic wound that needs healing. Earth needs to heal the parts that make them stir the pot that causes a rift in unity. This pile is meant to shine a light on what’s keeping the Earth so divided, so it can be acknowledged and worked on.

Earth needs to learn how to tap into that Universal love that we all have access to and learn how to truly be sorry to those that are hurt by the carelessness of others. The shadows, hate, wounds, separation, severing, wrongs, and sadness must be acknowledged to bring change. To bring peace.

Pile 1, you may become a bit irritated or impatient at the idea of having to wait and be patient. Especially when your soul remembers being able to manifest your desire without the need to wait, or being able to listen to your intuition then and know what to do and where you were going vs now, where your intuition may whisper to you or not, and you feel more lost than grounded. Try to remember that other planets move differently than Earth, as well as, any progress is still progress. You don’t have to know where you’re going or what’s going on to move forward, just try to listen to your instincts and take a step. That’s all it takes. And by doing that, you’ll also be teaching the Earth to do the same. You’ll be leading by example which will encourage others to do the same.

Pile 1, have y’all been feeling homesick lately? Is your soul remembering the times it had back home? Remembering the feeling of home? Just know that everything will be okay P1. Try to remember that you chose to come here to Earth and that you’re not alone. You didn’t come here alone. It’s time to fully give in to the human experience. Try to anchor your personality, your soul, and your spirit to the life you are living now. Whether you’re yearning for a place or person to find home, just know that this was your choice. Commit by putting both feet completely in and ask yourself how you can be more so? This has been a challenge for you Pile 1, and it’s one that you can overcome.

Pile 1, your soul is being called. It’s being called to connect with the Earth, with Mother Gaia. So often, we can get thrown in a rut; in a repeating cycle that leaves us moving on auto, doing the same things, over and over again, daily. This can cause our souls to start thirsting for more. Our souls were never meant to be stuck in a box. Limited. Stuck. Unsupported, alone. Stagnant. However, when we give ourselves permission to get in touch with nature and ourselves, it allows us to connect more to Mother Gaia, to Earth. To fill that void that we continue to try to convince ourselves will close if we just move, act, sound, etc a certain way. Allow yourself to listen to that little voice that tells you to go against the grain. It’s time to slow down and spend some time out in nature. Listen to yourself. Be still. Breath with Lady Gaia, Earth, the Divine.

🌎 Closing Comment:🌎

Pile 1, you are being asked to take things slow… one day at a time. Maybe it’s time to start looking into the stars and crystalline grids, which provides stored information that contains ancient codes of wisdom that had been forgotten by humanity. These ancient codes will help Pile 1 to assist humanity with the vibrational shift that’s taking place. The crystalline grid are constantly having stars shower emanations onto it, and information sent back to it once things are balanced on Earth. Lastly, this pile’s vibration may be raising and it’s causing y’all to activate your energy body to its highest form: The light body, which will require this pile to move slow in order to integrate this change.

✨ POSSIBLE STAR SYSTEMS✨

Pleiades

Sirians

Arcturians

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

PILE 2: 🕊️ MESSENGERS 🕊️

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Crystal of Choice:

Rainbow Moonstone

Represents inner clarity

Cyclical change

Connection to the feminine

It is a symbol of light and hope

Encourages us to embrace new beginnings

Closely linked to themes of femininity:

fertility

balance

softness

intuition

🕊️ KEY INDICATORS 🕊️

Harmony

Balance

Divine Feminine

Divine Masculine

Innocent, Pure

Old Souls, Wise

Instinct, Impulsive, Spontaneous

Intuitive

Ice, Water, Emotional

Priest, High Priestess

Trust, Faith, Divinely Guided

Forward Movement

Completion, Ending of Cycles

Ascension

Music

Fate vs Destiny, Akashic Records

Saturn energy

Spiritual Warriors

Gaia

Egypt

Native American

Arctic/ Alaska

Cold/ Ice

CHAKRAS OF SIGNIFICANCE

Crown Chakra

3rd Eye Chakra

Throat Chakra

ANIMALS OF SIGNIFICANCE:

Birds:

Soul, Divinity, Liberation, Creativity, Rebirth

Raven:

Creation, Magic, Illumination

Polar Bear:

Power, Wisdom, Peace

ASTROLOGICAL ENERGIES:

Libra

Virgo

Fire Energies

Some of you may want to check pile 1

Pile 2, **YALL ARE POWERFUL**!!!!! This is the pile that is meant to bring harmony and balance to the world. This pile has dedicated their lifetimes to bringing peace to the world. Y’all might not like big groups or need time to recoup after being in one. This pile may love being near water, or may need to. Some of you may be seeing 222 a lot, 888, 999, 1111. This pile may consist of those that may be on their twin flame journeys. Some of the people in this pile may be highly intuitive, which means you receive lots of downloads from the Divine/ Source/ the Universe. May be immature when it comes to communication, but stay in their heads a lot. May have a lot of love to give but may seem closed off. This pile may love to listen to music, or may be musicians and dancers, very artistic. This pile may also face a lot of trauma that they must heal from, to end unhealthy cycles so you can be reborn. This pile is helps the world to transition by spreading peace around the world through your life experiences that cause you to change and evolve. To grow without going dark. This pile is meant to make moving on and handling issues with Grace. To find yourself through lessons that teach you to let go of anything trying to hold you back and by doing the things you love, things that feed your soul. This pile is all about fairness and Justice through reflection and ascension. This pile is destined to have fulfillment. Y’all are or will be known for making life difficulties look easy. This pile is screaming Spiritual Warriors. You’re all about Faith.

As of late, pile 1, y’all may be letting things be for now. Not pushing anything, but learning to let things come to you. You came to Earth to teach others to do the same. You’re learning how to take the lead in your life. This pile may have a hard time trusting others to lead, as well, in themselves. Y’all might be having a hard time trusting in your actions. However, doubt is part of life. Every hero or leader has doubts, but they had to learn when to push through them. You asked to be here. You asked to undergo these lessons to ascend. You’re here to show Earth that just because something happens that doesn’t feel good, doesn’t mean it was bad or you’re living wrong. Social law vs Spiritual law. Which one matters more? Which one applies more? Care less what others think, and trust your instincts. So often people forget that Earth’s laws don’t apply to what’s meant to be. Now’s the time to help teach the Earth how to let go of control issues by ignoring the background noise, which sometimes, it’s our self sabotaging ways, and focus on your purpose.

Pile 2, have you been facing a lot of difficulties lately that’s been making you feel as if you’ve hit rock bottom? It’s time to love on yourself a little bit harder and have some compassion for yourself. As trying as it has been, please try to remember that situations in life are temporary. That nothing lasts forever and that diamonds are only formed under pressure baby! And you, pile 2, are diamonds in the making, if you’re not one already. So many people don’t realize that hitting rock bottom is a gift. A true blessing. Because the only way you can go is up. And the only way you can truly find out just how strong you are is by learning your fullest potential. Surrender to the alchemy of life. Don’t give up, you’re a Phoenix baby! Rise from the ashes and learn just how powerful you truly are. I bet you’ll surprise yourself in the end.

Pile 2, you may want to learn how to think like the Pleiadeans. You’re being called to learn how to let go of the situations in the past that made you feel bad about yourself. You’re being asked to see the bigger picture. What can you take out of those experiences? Have you tried to ask yourself what about those experiences that left you feeling down and out were a blessing? What did you learn? What was something positive you can take from your experiences. It’s all about perspective. “The glass half empty, half full” saying comes to mind. Just know, an old dog can learn new tricks, and it’s never too late for you to learn something new that could help change the future. Maybe you’ve been feeling inspired lately? The world needs more people that can see the big picture, artists, dreamers, inventors, & visionary thinkers. Trust in the vision that you have and follow through. It takes courage to pace a new path- have faith anyways. Trust that everything will work out as intended. Trust in yourself.

Also, Pile 2, some of you may already know that you’re a pretty strong empath, and for those that didn’t, well now you do... P2, it’s okay to keep some things for yourself. Y’all are so sweet, y’all make be overextending yourself, which can play a part on you feeling drained. So, P2, it’s time to start looking out for self more. It’s okay to take some time to self and to fill your cup. I mean, who’s gonna give you what your body needs and craves if you don’t? You gotta take care of you before you can help anymore. Being an empath, you can draw in others emotions and vibes, and it’s important to take the time to nourish yourself. And don’t worry about whether or not you have time to nurture yourself and do your life’s purpose. As long as you take care of self, the Earth will automatically receive the love that it’s meant to, because it’s literally surrounding you. All you have to do is BE. It’s time to take care of your energetic self. It’s okay, P2. The world won’t stop if you take some time for self, I promise.

🕊️ Closing Comments🕊️

P2, your soul is calling out to you to work on your perspective. It’s time to wake up. Yes, life can be hard. Especially when you’re feeling a calling to find a home, person or place where you feel at home, at peace. Your soul craves it because it remembers it, before all the difficulties of life on Earth. However, the difficulties we face can sometimes cloud of judgement and that’s all we focus on. Not realizing that all it is is a distraction. We’re a small speck of dust compared to what’s really going on out there. Time can be so fleeting. It’s time to see how our mindset affects our ability to follow our contract. Our soul’s experience is a flash compared to what’s really going on in the Universe. Take a moment to see the bigger picture. Find the strength to live on Earth with all your strength and keep pushing forward with great compassion and love from within. Don’t let life’s difficulties change you for the worse. You are a being of love. Try to remember to look at any experience with love in your heart, that’s the only way to truly move forward without allowing poison to warp our perspectives.

✨POSSIBLE STAR SYSTEMS:✨

Pleiades

Sirian

Venusian

Hadarian

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

PILE 3: STAR⭐️KEEPER

Crystal of Choice:

Amethyst Crystal

aka “All Purpose Stone

Inner peace

Happiness

Draws in love

Healing abilities

Assist in curing physical illnesses related to the head, lungs, pancreas, liver, stomach, muscles, and reproductive organs

Increase in Spiritual abilities

⭐️KEY INDICATORS⭐️

Cosmic Ancestors

Portal

New beginnings

Intuitive

Talkative

Balanced

Egypt

Star energy; popular, magnetic

Manifestors

Overthinks

Needs to stay grounded

Artistic

Spiritual

Unexpected Changes

Waters, Bodies of Water, Emotional

Forward movement

Juggling

A shift

Depression

Recognition

Non-Judgemental

Creation/ Life/ Fertility

Greek ties —> Goddesses Artemis or Amphitrite

Egyptian ties —> Goddess Isis

Hunger for life, change, something new

Wish fulfillment

Masculine energy

Destiny

Chakras of Significance

Crown

Third Eye

Throat

Root

Animals of Significance:

Deer

Instinctual Energy, Independence, Regeneration

Cow

Fertility, Purity, Divination

Gull

Water, Creation, Emotions

Animal Deities

Divinity, Guidance, Wisdom

Astrological Energies of Significance

Cancer

Sagittarius

Aries

Capricorn

Mars energy

Neptune energy

Pluto energy

How’s it going P3!

This pile may be into the arts, such as music, dancing, drawing, etc. Some of you may be seeing 111s and 222s a lot. Some of y’all in this group may be intuitive. Some of y’all may have had to move on from things that could’ve left you broken. This pile might have a hard time balancing their emotions and their thoughts. Some of you may be feeling a bit pessimistic or depressed? Some of you may be thirsty for life and might be needing a change? Some of you may be dealing with some people in your life that are deceivers, liars, out for self, and it may be keeping you in a distorted energy. Some of you may be heavy in your masculine energy right now, whether you’re a man or woman (I go off energy, not gender). Some of you may be trying to juggle life, career, or relationships, especially after an unexpected change. Some of you have been manifesting a change in your career or hoping to receive a gift that would be a wish fulfillment. If any of this resonates, then this is your pile P3.

P3, after a long and challenging time, the world is officially undergoing a shift. And that’s thanks to y’all doing your part P3. However, I see you’re having a hard time seeing past the difficulties in life and finding that spark again. It’s okay to focus on your spiritual growth, but you must also remember to live in the 3D. You may be feeling like you recently hit rock bottom. You need to remember that it’s okay to be spontaneous. It’s okay to surrender to pleasure and joy. You really need to focus on filling your own cup back up again. The Universe doesn’t want you drowning for love and fun, but to live! To find that spark that motivates you to keep moving forward. This world will drain you if you let it. Stay focused on moving forward, P3. I guarantee, that your manifestations and wishes are just around the corner. That’s a promise. Also, try to remember that life isn’t a race. It’s okay to relax and enjoy the moment. Enjoy the process. Have no regrets when looking back. You’re so much closer than you know P3.

Awwww P3 🥺🥺🥺 One word. Balance. It’s time to find balance. Some starseeds that come to Earth have a harder time living in it. Some starseeds have a hard time balancing their life out with their spiritual side, finding it easier to be part of the Earth than to worry about other things. This battle between the spiritual and Earth is called Transcendence vs Immanence. Most starseeds feel more comfortable with transcending. P3, you came to the Earth to show people how to balance out the 2. You need to learn how to BE in the world P3. Because you have a hard time having boundaries, it may be hard for you to BE in this world. You’re beings of pure, unconditional love. So you see the good in people, which often leaves you taken advantage of. Some of you have been relationships that you may partake in may tend to be a bit unhealthy, and this happens a lot. Some of you are here to learn how to love while in a separate body. P3, it’s time to learn how to love yourself and establish healthy boundaries. You are full of all the love you need and require. Maybe some of you are in a codependent relationship, or maybe some of you are in relationships where you give more than what you get and it’s draining you. P3, it’s time to establish healthier ways. If you lose yourself in relationships, it’s time to maybe, take some time to self and focus on loving yourself and getting to know yourself better.

Some of you may be Golden Children, aka Children of the Sun (I also heard Ra). Children of the Sun are suspected of being highly intuitive and gifted, but often are treated in a not so nice way on their journeys. Some of you may need to heal your inner child from trauma, and some of you may be expecting or will be expecting soon, and it could be a Child of the Sun. To help bring these intuitive children into the world to nurture and guide. Also, some of you who have trouble upholding your boundaries are a bit of a people pleaser and this is causing you to pour salt in your wounds, while adding on more. You’re not meant to be everyone’s cup of tea. You’re not meant to please everyone. The person you should be concerned with pleasing is yourself. Stop giving away your power. Embrace who you are and who you were meant to be. It’s okay if everyone doesn’t understand you. You weren’t meant to be placed in a box (society standards). Embrace the weirdness. Your uniqueness. It’s what makes you shine.

The life lesson you came here to learn P3, is that anything that is unaligned in your life must go. It’s time to question everything that you know and virtually scan what is acceptable and needed in your life, and what isn’t… or who. The shift that is occurring will be doing the same for the world. Society, the World, how people think…? The Unseen will start to be seen. Everything will start to change, or it will not survive. So you must make sure you’re doing your part. Yes, it may be difficult, but it is necessary. It’s time for the world to be reminded how the Universe operates, which isn’t based on what society is pushing today. It’s time to dismantle the ways and beliefs that are no longer serving. It’s time for you to trust in what you need to do and take the baby steps to make it happen.

P3, it’s never too late to learn something new. To change your perspective or goals, your career, or the relationships in your life. It’s time to step into your role and be a visionary for the planet. You decide what you believe… what you follow . And the decisions you make today could affect the wellbeing of the planet and its species, so it’s important that you get a different perspective than the one you’ve had. It’s time to open your mind and dream a new world. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks. It takes alot of courage to take the path you’re being called to take vs the easier one. Trust that what you’re about to do will be successful, just hold firm. Doors are opening for you P3. You have the Midas touch right now. Your thoughts are extra powerful right now, the planets are aligned and the timing is right. The Universe has your back P3. All of your hard work is about to pay off, just keep going! Especially since now is the time to work on moving towards your dreams abd ACHIEVING those dreams. If you feel like you’re being called to shake things up and make some big changes, NOW’S the time to do it. Effortless changes are about to happen for you, if it’s not happening already P3.

Some of you may want to check out P1 if you were called to do so.

P3, it’s time to remember that you’re not alone, it can just feel that way when you’re not balanced in the 3D & 5D. You’re being called to check in with yourself more, and to start practicing honing your gifts. It’s time to step up. You came to Earth with a double mission. To grow as a soul and to assist in the shift to raise the consciousness of the world. Some of you in p3 may have many unique gifts that you do or don’t know about that has yet to fully be uncovered. Move towards your being called to do, whether it’s a creative project, a passion, or an adventure. It’s time to step up and leap. Also, some of you in P3 need to take some time to reach out to family or friends, or go on a friendly walk with a someone to gather your energetic resources. As an old soul, sometimes starseeds feel the need to isolate or be alone. But we’re humans. We’re beings that require group interaction and closeness. Find the balance, P3.

⭐️Closing Comments:⭐️

P3, if you’re working on any projects, just know this pile whatever it is has great potential to be successful. Don’t give up. Be like the Mintakans who saw the light in everything and everyone. There is potential in humans and situations, just gotta train yourself to see that. Try to have faith P3, and know that EVERYTHING and everyone are working out to the highest potential for all those involved. Also, try to figure out any unconscious thoughts and patterns you have and bring them to light. If we don’t face what is needed to addressed, they have a tendency to show up. So deal with whatever you’re not dealing with P3, before you’re made to by the Universe.

✨POSSIBLE STAR SYSTEMS: ✨

Pleiadean

Sirian

Arcturian

Hadarian

Children of the Sun

Mintakans

✨ And that concludes this reading! ✨

🕊️🕊️🕊️ Blessings!🕊️🕊️🕊️

[glorysalazar]

No Duolingo, no problem

Jere Pöyhönen / Käärijä x Fem! Reader

Summary: You moved to Finland a few weeks ago and can't seem to feel at home: you're starting at a new job, you don't understand the language, you're kind of going through a break up... One tired and cold evening you head into the first bar you can find and briefly meet a cute guy you can't stop thinking about for the next few weeks. You try to forget about him, but when you go back to the same bar for some random gig your coworkers have invited you to go to, you find him again. [This takes place way before Eurovision]

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings: English isn't my first language and I got a little lazy mid writing. Also they smoke a vape oops (seriously now don't do it it's shit for your health). Maybe smut implications at the end?

A/N: I didn't know what to name this lmao. I cannot believe I wrote fanficiton for the first time in YEARS because I fell in love with a Finnish guy after watching Eurovision. Anyway, I noticed an enormous shortage of Jere fics and decided to risk my final exams to serve the people. I hope it's worth it! Also apologies if the Finnish translation is shit I used a random website for it lol

Glossary:

"Anteeksi, pudotit takkisi" -> "Sorry, you dropped your coat"

"Jere, istuimme takapöydässä" -> "Jere, we are sitting at the back table"

"Olen tulossa" -> "I'm on my way"

"Hetkinen, kiitos!" -> "One moment, please!"

"Jere, sinun vuorosi on kymmenen minuutin kuluttua" -> "Jere, you're on in ten minutes"

"Minä menen nyt" -> "Coming"

"Hei kaikille, miten meillä menee tänään?" -> "Hi everyone, how are we doing today?"

"Kiitos, Mikko, arvostan sitä todella" -> "Thank you, Mikko, I really appreciate it"

"Miten uskallat tulla tänne?" -> "How dare she come here?"

"Meidän on hyödynnettävä sitä" -> "We'll have to make use of it"

"Mikä on sana?" -> "What's the word?"

...

It was cold. Hell, it was colder than she could have ever imagined before coming here. Sure, she had checked the country's temperatures before moving, researched online about what to expect for someone who was used to easy winters, had bought the fuzzy-fur-on-the-inside-boots and the heavy jacket and all that was recommended to face the never-ending snowing. But still, it somehow hadn't been enough.

A job offer and the need to find some new purpose to latch onto had led (Y/N) here. Now three weeks in, with no friends and hardly a place to call her home had helped regret start to settle in. So many things felt out of her control: the way her colleagues seemed to think she was a mess, the cashiers at the supermarket sighing because she still didn't understand the language, everyone from her hometown rolling their eyes when she announced she was leaving in a way that meant you're not gonna make it.

Yet being thrown outside her comfort zone, and being forced to move on however she could manage, made her feel at least some kind of thrive. Which was far more than she had back home.

As she walked down the street for some place to find shelter in, hands shaking and breaths almost uneven, a neon sign caught her attention. Even though she couldn't figure out the name, it looked like a pretty okay bar. She didn't need much convincing anyway; anything would do to get out of this freezing gale. She made her way in.

The warmth was a instant relief. Stripping down from the many layers of upper clothes, she took a quick glance to check the place out. Not many people, which was fair for a Wednesday evening. There was low music playing, mild chatter and a bunch of people sitting alone in the stools, which was a relief. At least she wouldn't be the only one.

As she ordered a beer (one of the few phrases she had made sure to master) she felt her hands come alive again. The beverage came along and she took a long, much anticipated sip. It tasted significantly different from the brands she was used to, but it was just fine. Alcohol is alcohol.

Finally feeling at ease, she took her phone out and started mindlessly scrolling through social media to kill some time. It was still early in the evening since she had just gotten out from work. An extra challenging day is what had led her to wander outside for a bit instead of heading back to the dull apartment she hadn't even been able to decorate yet. Going home right after would've led her to start overthinking if this job was even right for her, if she had gone crazy by moving hundreds of kilometres away from what she's always known, if her ex-girlfriend had been right when she accused her of being too impulsive, if it would be such a bad thing to give it up already and leave—

"Anteeksi, pudotit takkisi", she heard a voice say behind her.

When she turned around to give her "sorry I still don't speak Finnish" speech, she was met with a blue-eyed, dark-haired, funky but sweet looking guy holding her jacket, which she now understood had fallen to the floor. It caught her by surprise that she somehow forgot how to speak for a brief moment.

"Oh! Thank you, I hadn't noticed it was on the floor" she ended up answering, taking the jacket back as the man handed it to her with a confused look in his eyes. "Sorry, I'm not from here. I don't speak Finnish yet" she added with a small chuckle.

"No, don't worry, Finnish, uh- hard language to learn" he answered through an amusing smile, with a thick accent and a clear struggle to speak English.

She half laughed at his answer. Until now, people hadn't been so kind about the language-barrier impediment. "Yes, it is a little bit", she followed, now taking in his appearance.

Painted nails. Double nose piercings. Earrings. Facial hair. A bowl cut? Interesting choice, but it suited him surprisingly well. Her brain decided through that brief examination: he was cute. Attractively cute.

"You can try Duolingo. I use for my English, but don't work very very well" the man said the second part more as a correction to himself, making both of them laugh from the random half advice. He tried to fix it: "Maybe for you works better".

"Maybe. I'll check it out. Thank you again" her response was going to be followed by an invitation for him to sit down with her, as she felt a sudden wave of boldness: I need to make some friends in this town or else I'll go crazy. But a group of three other guys that had come in after him caught her stranger's attention.

"Jere, istuimme takapöydässä", one of them said to him, while walking to a table at the back corner of the bar.

"Olen tulossa" he turned around to answer, then looked at her once more, "I go now with my friends. Enjoy your beer" he smiled and small-waved goodbye, as she copied his gesture. "Enjoy your evening".

That small interaction was enough for her to spend the next half hour looking up from her phone, which she had retreated to, to glance at him from time to time. His group of friends and him seemed to be having a good time, and she enjoyed the view of him. He looked like a very interesting person, too, and if she was being honest, she hadn't been struck by someone new in quite some time. Not by her neighbors, not by the people she was starting to coincide with at the grocery shop, not even by her co-workers.

She noticed him looking at her from time to time as well.

When her glass was empty and just as the clock on her phone struck seven, she got up and got prepared to face the freezing wind once again. At least it wasn't that long of a walk to her place.

She lingered for a moment before exiting the bar, then finally did so while warning herself not to get too caught up on the nice stranger she suddenly felt she was leaving behind. It was just a one minute interaction. You probably won't see him again. Quit this teenager act. Focus on the important tasks ahead of you.

It was already pitch black outside, snow accumulated on the sidewalks, the air was even colder than before.

Excitement started to bubble up in the pit of her stomach.

...

Two weeks had gone by and although she had been meaning to return to the bar, she just hadn't find the time to do so. Once the job's training period ended, the hectic rythm started. In her free time, when she wasn't taking care of the house or just resting, she was trying to find some language academy where she could actually properly learn Finnish. Cute guy had been right: Duolingo just didn't do the trick.

She had hoped he would appear around the neighborhood, that maybe he lived nearby. But there had been no luck. It was fine, though. She knew she would let go of it rather quickly at that point, it's not like she had been thinking about his addictive smile or pretty eyes or soft-looking hands. Not at all.

It was Friday, and some acquaintances from work she had managed to pull off had invited her to a small gig. She didn't even remember the musician's name nor did she know where it was going to be, but nevertheless she was happy to go and actually get to have some fun with other people. Who knows, cute guy might even be there.

She didn't even realize they were headed to the bar until they were right in front of it. Inside, a small stage platform had been set up and tables and chairs had been removed to make space for the audience. It wasn't very spacey anyway, the place could hold about a hundred people squeezed together tops.

"Huh, hadn't even thought of this place as a venue" she let her thoughts trail out loud.

"Have you been here before?" her coworker Aubrey, who she had slightly bonded with because she was also a foreigner, asked her. "Only once" the girl explained, already searching for a certain someone's face in the crowd. "So, who have you brought me to see tonight?" she asked, in the hopes of at least getting some conversation non-work related flowing. "I don't really know, coming here was Mikko's idea. He's always trying to get us into these weird small rap-rock Finnish bands, and listen, I've lived here for over a year now and I still don't really get the hype" Aubrey explained making both of them laugh "But it always ends up being fun when we go out" she added.

The rest of the group had moved forward to get a good spot near the humble stage, as Mikko babbled on and on about nonsense the two women couldn't figure out from the distance. "Hey, I'm going to the bathroom real quick. Mind saving me a place?" (Y/N) asked her colleague, who answered affirmatively.

She made her way through the crowd in between "excuse me's" and "sorry's" but got there with quite ease. One of the two toilet doors had a sign that read "Out of order", so she knocked on the one that was left to check if anyone was inside. A voice that sounded vaguely familiar came from the other side: "Hetkinen, kiitos!"

Nervousness suddenly struck her. Is this who I think it is?

When the door opened there was no doubt. Cute stranger was standing in front of her.

"Oh! Hello" he blurted out just as he saw her, sounding surprised. Today he was wearing eye makeup and bottom eyeliner, which suited him very, very well. He has such a pretty face.

She realized now she had not been able to get over this guy in the two weeks of not seeing him, even though she didn't even know his name.

"Hi" was all she could manage to say. She had been looking for him when she entered the bar but she was convinced he was not actually going to be there, "It's good to see you!" she added, as a way of avoiding an awkward silence.

"You as well. You, uh, you come to... concert?" he inquired, struggling to find the last word while pointing towards the direction where the stage was to make sure he was being understood.

She noticed he was wearing an all yellow outfit that consisted of corduroy pants and a button up. He looks good in it.

"Yes, some work friends brought me here. But if I'm being honest I don't even know who's playing" she confessed, slightly covering her mouth with one of her hands to joke around, as if she had spilled a dark secret. Stranger burst out laughing. His laugh was cute. "Do you know if he's good? I wanna know if I'll be wasting my time or not" she asked him, pretending to be a diva to keep his laugh going.

He had his arms crossed and his tongue between his teeth as he slightly giggled. "No, I think he's pretty ok. I think you will like, even if no understand" his answer was playful and accompanied with another small laugh. She continued joking around, this time putting her hands up in pretend self defense "Hey, I'll try my best. Maybe using Duolingo for two days actually did something" she shot back, realizing after saying those words that she had just told Mr. Stranger she had followed his advice.

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head playfully "You did what I say to you" he stated. "Yes, but you were right. It's not really helpful. Now I just keep getting emails from the goddamn owl and feel scared that he's going to find me and kill me for not going back to the app" she explained exaggeratedly, which made their giggles grow bigger and even he bent his knees with laughter.

Their little chit-chatting was cut when a man who looked like he had been searching for someone stopped in his tracks at the beginning of the bathroom hall and shouted at them: "Jere, sinun vuorosi on kymmenen minuutin kuluttua". She turned around to look at the source of the voice and then back at stranger when he answered "Minä menen nyt". She wished she knew what they were saying, but she assumed it had just been his friend telling him to hurry up. Also, was Jere his name? She had heard it two times already.

"Someone's always calling out for you", she commented when they were left alone again. "It's because me popular, yes yes" he joked, putting a hand to his chest and shrugging. "Listen, I go now. Concert starting soon" he explained, pointing out to the stage's direction once again "I see you there?" he asked, eyebrows raised as he put a hand to her shoulder, looking into her eyes. His blue ones had her mind going blank for a moment. That seemed to happen a lot when he was around. "Uh- yeah, sure, see you there". He smiled again then moved past her to return to the hall. She stared at him leave as she opened the door to the bathroom and finally went inside, smiling to herself and biting her bottom lip.

She hurried back once she was finished not only in fear of missing out the start of the concert, but more so in fear of not finding him again. Aubrey raised her hand to catch her attention and she followed the lead back to the group. The place was packed, it was hot, and there was a lot of chatter going on.

"What took you so long?", Aubrey asked as she got to her side, just in front of the stage, "They're about to start". (Y/N) was standing on her tiptoes and turning her head in all directions. She had just talked to him and the bar was not that big: where the hell had he hid himself?

"There was a long line to the bathroom..." she started off distantly, then turned to face Aubrey "Hey, this is going to sound weird, but have you seen-" just when she was going to make the question, she noticed some people walking up to the stage and everyone started cheering.

As she looked up, she couldn't have been more dumbfounded.

It was him. Mr Stranger was the one performing tonight.

"Hei kaikille, miten meillä menee tänään?" he shouted out to the public, (Y/N) assumed as a way of greeting everyone. He took no time noticing she was right there, which made him grin even wider. "I see we have international people tonight. Good" he said while looking directly at her. She felt her coworkers eyes on her.

"Do you know him?" Aubrey whispered-shouted to her, "I- uh, no, yes? Briefly" she responded back as he continued on in Finnish. She remembered the question she had made him earlier and mentally facepalmed. This cheeky dude. Lying to her face just so he could later get her reaction.

Since there was no way of understanding what he said, she concentrated on what she could see. Two men behind him wearing pink shirts and shorts and sunglasses. A DJ table, no instruments. There was a sign hanging from the wall that read "Käärijä". Was that his artistic name? She was very intrigued by everything going on and wondered what genre he was going to play.

She had no idea what was coming.

As soon as he stopped talking and the music started playing, his demeanor changed. His stare became fiercer, his movements provocative and unleashed. He walked around the stage like he owned it, stared at the audience like he knew they would do whatever he asked them. Every beat before he started singing rumbled inside her, made her hold her breath in anticipation. She let it out once the words started to fall from his mouth.

The lyrics could have been shit for all she knew. His deep voice, the exotic pronunciation, the hard rapping from the boy who had seemed so sweet and wholesome but was now showing another side of him, the song's rhythm and tone. She was all in. So in, that her body started swaying to the sound almost like an automatic response, and jumped around alongside everyone else when the music demanded to do so.

"Ok, he's really good" she said to her coworkers as the crowd sung alongside him. "Mikko, you were right, he's really good" she insisted to the boy beside her, who was clearly enjoying himself. "I told you!" he answered amidst chanting, "Jere is my most talented friend". Oh, okay. Mental note taken.

As he performed his songs, (Y/N) couldn't help but admire the dedication Jere put on and the absolute fun he looked like he was having. Also, she realised he was at least kind of known around here, because people were singng alongside him.

The head banging, self touching, slightly undressing and sticking his tongue out only added more to his eclectic movements and gestures that made the show feel like a mix of energetic, passionate and, why deny it, lascivious state. Her eyes were glued to him in a capitative stare, that he would catch from time to time and hold for a few seconds. Then he would turn to his attention somewhere else, but a smirk would make a clear appearance on his face.

Whenever he finished a number, the loud clapping allowed him some time to take a sip of water. The clothes he was wearing and its material soon became unbearable, which lead him to take his shirt off completely. "Sorry, it is hot in here" he stated into the microphone pretending to excuse himself as a joke, as everyone in the room made a fuss about it. He was heavily sweating all over his face, neck and torso.

If she had previously been absorbed by him, at this point it was almost unbearable. She had not expected to see so much exposed flesh, and the pectoral tattoo nearly had her weak on her knees.

For some reason, freehing himself from his clothes somehow made him behave even wilder from then on out. He started getting closer to the front row, some even holding out their arms to interact with him, him receiving the gesture with no issue. The Fin looked so confident in what he was doing, it only made her feel even more attracted to him.

He moved so quickly (Y/N) didn't even have time to process when he positioned himself right in front of her, amidst performing a song, and full on stroked her cheek for a few lasting moments, all the while mainting direct eye contact. It was as if no one else had been around them, as if this instant had been theirs only. She didn't respond to the touch by touching him herself, since she couldn't find the strength to be as bold; but the breath hitching and swallowing saliva right after were a clear sign to Jere that he made her feel things. He would quite probably feel embarrassed about it later, but right now it made him feel close to powerful.

The whole gig ended on a high note, the applause was strong and lasting. (Y/N) clapped her hands so fast they even started hurting a little, and could understand through the noise that Jere was thanking everyone for coming out to see him. As he was about to exit the stage, some music started playing over the speakers as to signal that the performance was over and everyone could retreat to either leave the bar or get a drink and stay there for a longer while. As the people from the front row turned around and waited to have a chance to move, (Y/N) felt a hand on her shoulder.

Jere looked exhausted, but it also seemed like the whole night had riled him up. "You don't leave now?", he meant to ask, but came out more as a plead. She wouldn't even dream of doing so right now. "No, no, I'm staying" she rushed to answer. "Good. Wait for me?" he went on. She could only manage to nod her head yes. He smiled and quickly went "backstage" to freshen up.

"Okay, what the actual hell was that?" Aubrey took no time to pry her, "It did not look like knowing each other briefly". (Y/N) shrugged while putting her hands in the air and half laughing, not knowing how to beat those allegations.

"It's classic Jere. Finds a girl cute and cannot stop himself" Mikko chimed in, while grinning, "Now I understand, you must be the girl he saw a couple of weeks ago over here, right?"

"He's talked about me?" she said, a bit shocked, while Mikko lead the way for the three of them to go grab a drink. "Yes, well, now that I connect the dots, that evening you came here, it was a Wednesday, right? I came too, but it must've been after you left. When I arrived he was commenting it".

Some of the other coworkers were starting to leave, not without commenting the elephant in the room before grabbing the door. "You're gonna be the talk of the office now", Aubrey asserted, making Mikko laugh and (Y/N) grow redder by the minute. "I don't even- we haven't even talked that much, really. But watching him onstage was..." she trailed off, letting out a sigh and grabbing the drink Mikko offered her, thanking him in the process. "Yes, it's his special trait. That magnetism he holds is what's gonna get him places", he agreed.

"Okay, but does this whole act mean that he always does this? Like, does he take advantage of his concerts to mindlessly flirt with random people?" (Y/N) suddenly tried to rationalize the fast track of actions Jere was taking on with her. Sure, she liked him, and she really, really wanted to have some fun. Needed it, even. This bonding moment with Aubrey and Mikko right now, this non-work related, exciting chatter; the going out; as precipitating as it sounds she was starting to feel like she was finally making friends, establishing a life. But she also didn't want to be played around with.

"Ohhh, no, not necessarily" her coworker laughed, calming her down "Käärijä the performer is seductive, provocative, even uncontrollable" he took a sip from his drink, "But Jere the person is another story. Dude wouldn't even hurt a fly, I mean it" he reassured her. He then was about to say something else, but stopped on his tracks when they all noticed the man of the hour and the tow men who had performed with him coming over to them. However, he quickly commented to the girls the following before Jere could hear them: "If anything, he's the one who has been played around with".

Jere approached Mikko first, going in for a hug, which made total sense given the fact that they were friends. (Y/N) appreciated it, because his last comment had caught her by surprise. He had changed into some track pants and graphic loose t-shirt, and over all he already looked far more calmed down and back to his more, to put it some way, innocent self. Aubrey and (Y/N) exchanged a look before introducing themselves to the guys in pink, who had not changed their outfits. Their names were Jaakko and Aleksi.

"Hey, I recognize you. You were all in the bar that day I was here" she said as a realization. "Yes, we were planning tonight" Aleksi answered, "Did you like it?" he added, to both her and Aubrey.

While the four of them engaged in small talk, the girls understood that Mikko was congratulating his friend on his performance and Jere was thanking him, "Kiitos, Mikko, arvostan sitä todella", he said with appreciation on his face, closed smile and big puppy eyes (Y/N) couldn't ignore. With one last ruffle on his hair from Mikko, the two men stayed with one arm over the other's back and turned to the group.

"Alright, let's talk in English now so we can all understand each other..." Mikko started off. "I see you guys have already introduced yourselves, very good. Now let me introduce you girls to Käärijä himself, although maybe a certain someone doesn't need it" he playfully remarked, making Jere look away while hiding his face and (Y/N) roll her eyes. "Jere, these are (Y/N) and Aubrey from work. Aubrey, (Y/N), this is Jere" he played around using a formal tone and letting out of their embrace.

"Nice to meet you" Aubrey answered, shaking hands with him and gently pushing (Y/N) forward once she was done to signal her to do so as well.

"I finally know your name" he commented, making her chuckle, "Yes, I guess you do". Mikko and Aubrey swiftly moved to give them some space, going over to Jaakko and Aleksi, who were all in in the same unspoken plan.

"You like the show?" he seemed a bit nervous as he rested his elbow on the counter and signaled the waiter to get him a drink, while attentively listening to her answer, "Honestly, I'd never been to one quite like this. I mean, I've been to rock concerts and such, but this energy you guys put on stage was totally new for me. I really enjoyed it tho, you're really good" she sincerely said.

"Oh, thank you, really" Jere put a hand to his chest as to show gratitude, "It was first concert after months of not doing", he further explained, "So means a lot all people who come here, yes. I'm so happy for this, I was worried if not work well". He sounded so humble (Y/N) couldn't help but grow to like his personality even more. She was curious to know why he hadn't played in a way, but also didn't want to intrude, so she opted for another response. "Well you should be. We all had a blast".

"You understand anything I sing?" he wondered with a perky smirk, before taking a sip from the beer that had just landed in front of him. "I didn't need to", she let it out without giving it a second thought, almost as if this was the only real answer she could give, which to her felt absolutely true. He was shocked by it and spilled some of the drink out, quickly catching the dripping by covering his mouth with a napkin.

"Ah, I make fool of me now, great!" he tried to cover up by playing down the incident. She couldn't stop laughing out loud, some people even noticing the whole scene between the two of them, specially Mikko and company who laughed as well from a distance, "That's what you get for lying to me before" she joked, but grabbed a napkin as well to clean his shirt up, softly patting it on his chest. "Sorry, I wanted to surprise" he justified. It was in that moment that she noticed they were almost the same height. When her gaze moved upward from the stain she was cleaning up, his stare was way closer than she had thought. He carried on talking.

"Also, before, I hope I not make you... uh-, mikä on sana epämukavalle?" he looked over at Mikko for help regarding a language inquire.

"Uncomfortable"

"Yes, that" Jere said, "I hope I not make you uncom... uncomfortable when I, you know-" he tried to explain himself, struggling with the pronunciation. He stroked his own cheek to interpret what he attempted to say. "Oh! No no, don't worry, it was- it was okay. I liked it, actually", his relief was evident after she assured him. He let out a nervous giggle.

Then, something caught his attention. His gaze had travelled to the door, past (Y/N), and what he saw made his face turn dead serious, although also sad. Mikko, Aleksi and Jaakko very quickly noticed what was happening. Aubrey and (Y/N) also turned around to check it out: a girl was standing by the entrance looking for someone with a worried expression.

"Miten uskallat tulla tänne?" Jaakko expressed angrily. The three men addressed Jere, who suddenly was a loss of words and course of action.

"Ex alert" Aubrey whispered to (Y/N) while sipping from her drink's straw. "They're asking him if he wants to go talk to her" she informed her friend, which (Y/N) was thankful for. It was really tiring to not catch anything on her own sometimes. While the four men were talking to each other, deciding what to do next, (Y/N) grabbed Jere's arm and everyone's attention fell on her. She just couldn't stop strongly empathizing with him because she had also recently been through a break up and knew how shitty it was. Jere seemed more at ease when she talked, "Are you okay? Do you want to get out of here?" he looked past her again, everyone following his direction and realizing his ex was coming over to them. "I do, please", "Then we're getting out of here", (Y/N) decided, "You guys coming?" she asked the rest. "No, you guys go on. We'll make sure she doesn't follow" Mikko stated, thankful for her determination.

They said rushed goodbyes and (Y/N) got ahold of his hand to guide him towards the door. When they walked past her, she tried to talk, but they were quick to get out.

As per usual, it was freezing. They started to wander off to anywhere.

...

"I'm sorry about having to go"

They had found a comfortable spot in a park overlooking the town's river and had settled there. They had walked for a while, him trying to talk about anything else but his ex.

"Don't sweat it. I fully understand" she comforted him, then took the vape he had previously offered to her and took a puff before continuing, "I got broken up with three months ago... I hate to admit it, but it's part of the reason I ended up deciding to move here", she explained. He listened to her attentively, with a stern face.

The night was silent over here. It was only the sound of the stream and their hushed voices

"Can I ask why the break up?" he inquired, not wanting to pry on too much. "Only if I can ask why the break up", she made him chuckle. "Yes, of course" he accepted.

"She said I was too impulsive and that she couldn't trust me to maintain a steady and stable relationship, because I couldn't even do that with my own life" she sighed after her explanation and rolled her eyes.

"Wow" Jere said, disapproving look on his face "Hard thing to say".

"Yes, but honestly, I don't hold a grudge anymore. She had her right to think that way too. I do so too sometimes" she admitted, handing back the electronic cigarette, since they were taking turns to smoke.

"That's shit" he commented, which made them both laugh, "But I understand, too. "My ex, Sofia, that's her name, she uh- said she not approve of music career" his gaze moved upfront, "She said It's either me or music, and I think she not like my answer" Jere let out a half-sad cackle, "This is all I ever wanted to do. I loved her, I feel like I still do a bit, you know? But..." he nodded negatively before finishing the sentence, "I need someone who give support. What I told you before, the not doing concerts? A part of it was because I got, uh, insecure".

Silence fell between them as they both got lost in their own thoughts for a brief moment.

"You know, for someone who claims to not be good at English, you can maintain quite a deep conversation" her words made him belly laugh again. He looked at her and handed the vape once more. "Don't need Duolingo for that" he referenced. He was about to speak again but cut himself. "You can go on, it's fine", his doe-like blue eyes seeped cherishment.

"Oh, I not know, talking about ex was not in my plans when being alone with a girl I like" he made her blush, "I just thinking that, you know, I'm almost... mikä on sana" he struggled again with the language "Thirty year old?" he doubted if he had said it right, and the girl nodded to indicate him he had, "Thirty year old, and when younger I thought Oh, I achieve my dreams at thirty, have the family, all that... You know? And... nothing of that" he described, "My songs, some say that. But you not understand, so..." he added jokingly to lighten the mood, erupting laughter from her.

"Hey, I'm trying really hard to find a place where I can learn Finnish! Give me a break..." she defended herself, while the giggling from both of them died down. "But, just so you know, most of us feel this way too. Having your life figured out at thirty? That only happens to the lucky ones, I can assure you" she saw his tired expression and put a hand to his shoulder, "And by the way, you're crazy talented. We were all mesmerized by your performance. You can get to whatever place you want to be, and if you don't, well... It won't be because of your fault".

They were once again looking in each other's eyes. His gaze travelled down to her mouth. They were sitting close to one another as to avoid the cold wind. Her heart beat faster. How come did she feel like he had known him for such a long time if this was practically their first ever proper conversation? Yet she couldn't fight it. She had seen so many sides of him in such a short amount of time; she swore she'd never been that much of a romantic but the alcohol, mixed with how vulnerable they both felt in that moment and the fact that she was finally feeling at ease after more than a month of such a big change in her life, probably did the trick.

"Can- can I...?" he started nervously, but was interrupted.

"Yes"

Their lips crashed, finally killing the anticipation. Her hands cupped his face and his ones settled on her waist. She felt his long eyelashes touch her face, his beard tickled her jaw and his hoop piercing was cold on her nose. (Y/N) enjoyed feeling all these parts of Jere on her. He truly was so pretty. And suddenly, she wanted to make sure he knew just how pretty he was and how much he deserved to know it. The wave of boldness she had had to ask him to sit down with her those two weeks ago, but had been interrupted, came back as a stronger force.

When they separated to catch their breath, (Y/N) kept his face close to hers. He was panting through a timid smile and hot red burned his cheeks. She noticed her face doing the same thing.

"My apartment is a five minute walk from here" she suggested.

"Meidän on hyödynnettävä sitä" he whispered, hands going up and down her sides, and the Finnish language had never sounded so seductive to her.

"I didn't catch that",

"You don't need to. I will show you".