#that I was wearing a cool jean jacket and I just assumed that this was bullying for no actual reason

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hello may 31th anon! Look at that, another year behind us and a new one to come. Have a nice day! ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡

[peachesofteal]

Light on - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: You ask Simon to babysit for you last minute. For @that-fangirl-1106 and three anons

“Thank you so, so much. I owe you.” 

Simon stops short at your door, brows raising in surprise. He expected to see you in your ‘house clothes’ as you call them, leggings, or an old pair of jeans with a t shirt. Instead, you’re wearing a skirt, a short skirt, swell of your breasts just visible inside the V of your shirt, and his stomach twists, confusion thrumming in his veins. What is this? Where are you going? When you called and asked him to help you watch Emma for a bit, he just assumed it was so you could run some errands or something, take some time for yourself. Not for… whatever this is. 

You’ve got Emmaline on your hip, waist curved to accommodate her, and she’s babbling at you with a happy smile.  

“Are you sure it’s not an inconvenience? My sitter bailed last minute.” The door lock clicks into place behind him, and he holds his tongue, stopping the flow of one hundred questions, biting down on the urge to pull you into his chest and tell you- you’re not actually going anywhere. 

Would you agree? Would you look up at him with that sweet, beautiful face, and tell him that you won’t? That you’ll stay here, with him, instead. Where you belong.

“Simon?” Shit.

“It’s fine. I’m happy to help.” Emma coos, looking up at him, little legs wriggling in her onesie and his heart thumps a little harder, the green poison of jealously cooling just slightly when he realizes it doesn’t matter where you’re going. You’ll be coming home to him, and Emmaline, at the end of your night. 

Still. He has to ask. He has to know. 

“Where are you going?” You hand the baby to him, clucking softly, rubbing your fingers through her wispy crop of curls. 

“Out with this guy I met!” You’re excited, practically beaming, and your fingers find the hem of your shirt, anxiously plucking at it. “It’s been a while since like-“ you stop yourself, embarrassment heating your face, and you clear your throat. “No one’s asked me on a date in a while. Single moms aren’t really… a hot commodity.” His stomach clenches at the idea of another man thinking you’re a hot anything, let alone even looking in your direction. 

“Where are you going? Who is he?” 

“To the little Thai spot on seventh.” You give him an odd look. “And he’s a guy I met at the library.” 

“The library?” 

“Yeah, during story time.” You’re pulling a jacket on, and he clenches his jaw so tight he could chew through concrete. “Alright, baby, love you.” You step into his orbit, dab of perfume still wet on your neck, heat pressing into his side when you bend to kiss Emma on her forehead. Your hand brushes his against her back, something clouding your gaze when you look up into his face, something hopeful and honeyed sweet, with just a glimpse of longing, enough that blood roars in his ears. 

He should ask you to stay, tell you he’ll take you instead. Or take you somewhere better, take you anywhere you want to go. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you slip out the front door, blowing the baby in his arms one last kiss goodnight with a wave of your palm.

An hour later, a key scrapes against the metal of the lock. He’s got Emmaline and her favorite stuffed giraffe in his arms, walking circles in the kitchen, bouncing her lightly to try to soothe her pre bedtime tears, a normal routine he’s seen you do more than once. 

You slip through the door with a whispered apology, tired eyes rimmed in red. 

“Hey.” You reach for Emma, giving her a big smile and holding her to your chest, little kisses from your lips dotting her head, her cheeks. Your eyes slip closed, tension sagging from your shoulders, and he frowns, 

“What happened?” 

“Nothing. He uh, didn’t show.” Oh, sweetheart. You shrug, brushing it off. “But that’s okay, isn’t it?” you coo at Emma, smoothing a hand up and down her back. “Yeah, that’s okay. Mum doesn’t need anyone but you, huh Emmaline?” You say something about putting her to bed, and he barely hears you, too busy thinking about finding the piece of shit that decided to stand you up and breaking every bone in his body. 

You reappear once you’ve got her down, and he still hasn’t made himself scarce, lingering in your kitchen, hands in his pockets. He feels out of place, heart panging at the dejected look at your face. 

“Fuck that guy.” He grunts, and you crack a smile, tucking your arms around yourself. “He’s an idiot.” 

“Yeah.” You’re sullen, rejected, and it makes his blood boil, rage coursing through him knowing that someone made you feel less than the wonder you are. “Thanks for… I guess hanging out with her for a little while, at least. It was really nice of you.” 

“Anytime.” The kitchen is silent for a moment, reflecting your somber mood, and just as he’s about to tell you how stupid that guy is, how much of fool he is to not see what he missed out on, how much he didn’t deserve a single second of your time, you sigh out a whispered confession. 

“I guess it was pretty stupid.” 

“What was stupid, sweetheart?” 

“Going on a date when I have a baby at home. Thinking someone would even want a single mom with a baby at home.” You roll your eyes. “You know, as soon I got out the door, I was thinking about coming back? Couldn’t stop thinking about her. Wishing I was hanging out with my own daughter, and you… instead of going on a date.” His heart latches onto your words, hoarding them close, trying to memorize them so he can recall every syllable when he closes his eyes tonight. 

“That’s not stupid.” He wants to comfort you, promise you that it’s the farthest thing from stupid. 

“Maybe. Either way doesn’t matter, right? I got stood up.” You wince. 

“Whoever he is, he doesn’t deserve a minute of your time.” Your lips part, a little stunned by the steadfast vow, before splitting into a delicate smile, and your head ducks. 

“Thanks, Simon.” 

[brenwritesss]

Tru Fru part 4

Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: Paige takes you on a date to make up for an interrupted interaction, causing you two to fall even deeper.

a/n: the Paige pics above is the outfit I pictured her in during this chapter.

You were stressing. Everything that could go wrong was going wrong. First, you had submitted an assignment last night two minutes after the cutoff, guaranteeing you a zero percent. Next, you woke up and made a bowl of cereal for breakfast only to realize that the milk had gone bad. You had found out the hard way. And now here you were, getting ready for a date Paige had planned a few days ago, only you couldn’t find your shoes anywhere and Paige was going to show up to your place any minute.

After that day that you and Paige almost fucked, she didn’t fall back on her promise of making it up to you. She had asked you out on a date which meant that this was your first date ever with Paige. And to say you were nervous was an understatement. When she texted you this morning, she had said to dress “not casual” to which you assumed meant more formal than you’d usually dress and as a girl who was a biology major who never really went out, your choices on dressing fancy were limited. Luckily, your roommate was a bit of a party girl, resulting in a closet with almost an endless amount of dresses. So you settled on a short black dress that hugged your figure perfectly, and a black jean jacket. You didn’t own any fancy shoes and unfortunately your roommate didn’t share a shoe size with you so your everyday sneakers just had to do. 

Finally, you had found your shoes under your couch, wondering just how exactly they had ended up there. As you put on your shoes, there was a knock on your door which meant Paige was here. You took a deep breath and made your way to the door and opened it. You were met with Paige looking up from the ground, meeting your eyes with her cool blue ones. She broke into a faint smile as she had her hands behind her back and her hair was down and curly with two pieces pulled back. She was wearing a colorful cardigan with cream colored pants. She was the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen.

“Hi,” you say quietly.

She looks you up and down with that same smile. “Hi,” she said back to you. “You look really pretty.”

“Thank you,” you said, smiling. Her own smile grew wider as you responded. “Not so bad yourself.”

She lightly scoffed, “I took so long to look good for you and ‘not so bad yourself’ is all I get?”

“Good for me?”

“Always.”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment just taking each other in before Paige spoke, “I have something for you.”

“You do?” You didn’t expect Paige to bring you something as she had already planned the entire date.

 Paige shrugged. “Think of it as another apology for the livestream and as a way for making it up to you for being disrupted the other day.”

Your cheeks flushed as you remember the events and almost-sex the two of you had in your bedroom. And Paige noticed the color in your cheeks deepen as she brought it up, making her chuckle just a bit. She brought her hands out from behind her back and revealed a bag of Tru Fru. The banana ones.

You laughed as you took the bag from her. “Paige, that's the sweetest gift I’ve ever received,” you said sarcastically.

Paige’s smile widened even more. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

“I do,” you say as you set the bag on your counter and walk back to her. “Thank you.”

“Ready to go?” she asked you.

You nod and without hesitation, she takes hold of your hand, interlocking her fingers with yours. Your blush deepens even more and your heart starts to race. Even though you’ve already made out with this girl, every time she touched you it only made you want more. It made you want to be held by her. As if she was the only girl in the world who was allowed to touch you.

She opens the passenger door to her car to let you get in. As you sit in her car, you are taken back by how decorated it was. All over the front of the glove box were pictures of her and her basketball team. As she got in, she noticed you admiring all the photos. “They’re my favorite people.”

“I can tell,” you responded in awe of the photos. The Paige in the photos showed the same smile that she gave you at your door and your heart melted at the sight. She looks so happy.

She lifts down her sun visor above her head to show another couple photos stuck to it. “So I keep my teammates on my glove box and I keep my siblings up here along with my parents.”

You leaned over towards her to see the photos. You smiled at the sight of her arms wrapped around her brothers and sister. “That’s really cute, Paige.”

She gives you a soft smile, closing her visor and pointing to the visor above your head. “That one doesn’t have any photos yet but that may change soon.”

You raised your eyebrows at her. “Soon?”

She chuckles, “yeah, soon. Maybe.”

She starts her car and begins to drive, her right hand finding its way to your thigh. You put your hand on top of hers and intertwine your fingers together. You’ve never been this affectionate during a first date so this was new to you. But you would be lying if you told yourself you didn’t like it. “So where are we going?” you ask her.

You turned your head towards her and admired her beautiful side profile. You had never seen something so perfect. She glances at you and then back to the road before her. “Do you really want me to tell you or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“Tell me,” you say softly. Her grip on your fingers and thigh tighten just slightly while simultaneously gripping the wheel with her other hand more tight. You did happen to enjoy the way her hand flexed when she gripped the steering wheel.

“There’s this restaurant that’s really good downtown so I thought I’d take you there.” You could hear the hint of nervousness in her voice which caused you to squeeze her hand in comfort.

“That’s really nice, Paige.”

The two of you spent the remainder of the drive in silence, stealing awkward yet comforting glances at one another. Paige’s hand never left yours as she drove you to the restaurant. The feeling of having this type of contact with her sent waves of pleasure through you and you liked every second of it. You wanted to know everything about her. Every story, every fear, every flaw, every wish, every dream. What you didn’t know was that she wanted to know everything about you too. What you also didn’t know was that prior to picking you up, a few of her teammates had to give her a pep talk in taking you out. She had been so nervous since this was the first real and serious date she’s had in a while and she was afraid of messing it up.

Paige pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and as you looked out your window, you were met with romantically lit lighting, car lights speeding up and down the street, and the sight of a numerous amount of couples walking along the sidewalk.

Paige held your hand as you walked into the restaurant, being greeted by the host and taken to be seated at a table. Your table was illuminated by a candle and flowers in the center of the table which made Paige’s face glow perfectly across from you. “I’ve never been here before,” you said, breaking the silence between you two for the first time since the car.

“Yeah, it’s a really nice place,” she paused, “I think you’ll like it.”

“So how was that practice the other day?” you ask her.

Paige furrowed her eyebrows, not understanding what you were talking about until it clicked that you were talking about when she had to leave your dorm the other day. “Oh it was nothing new. Coach was getting on our asses so it was just a ton of drills.”

Your waiter cuts the conversation between you as he comes to greet you and take your drink orders. After he leaves, you continue, “That makes me glad I’m not an athlete.”

She chuckles. “Yeah, well in that moment I wish I wasn’t. I was sore after we finished.”

“I think I’ll take homework over being sore any day.”

“Yeah?” Paige jokingly questioned you. “I’m assuming biology isn’t the greatest thing in the world either.”

“Oh it’s not,” you respond. “It’s a lot of science and math, unfortunately.”

“Yeah no I’ll stick to being an athlete.” 

You laughed at her response as your drinks arrived at the table. You spent the next few minutes trying to figure out what you wanted to eat. There was a lot on the menu and you being indecisive was no help whatsoever. As you sat there, completely focused on the menu, you failed to notice that Paige had been admiring you the entire time with a soft smile on her face. “What are you thinking of getting?”

Her words snap you out of focus, finally looking up at her. “Oh, um deciding between pasta or something else but I’m not the most gracious pasta eater.”

That earns another laugh from her. “I find that hard to believe.”

You tilt your head to the side. “What are you implying?”

“That you’ll look good doing anything, including eating pasta.” She smirks at you, making you almost melt under her gaze.

“I’m not looking to make a fool out of myself so that is not happening tonight. That’s more of a third date thing.”

“So there’s going to be a third?” She raises her eyebrow playfully at you that makes you hide your face behind the menu.

“Are you two ready to order or still need a few minutes?” Your server walks to the table, a notepad in hand as he looks at the two of you.

Paige shakes her head. “No, we are ready.” She looks at you before looking back at the server. “I’ll have the filet mignon and she will have the fettuccine alfredo.”

You widen your eyes at her as your server took your orders and left. You shake your head. “There’s no way you just did that.”

A sly smile appears on her face. “I’m too impatient to wait for the third date.”

“To see me eat pasta like a monster?” you question her, taking a sip of your drink.

She gives you a look that says ‘what the fuck, no’ and says, “no, to prove to you that you look good doing anything.”

You two make eye contact again and this time it’s different. As if there was nobody else in this restaurant. And she can feel that too because she speaks again, “and I do mean that.”

“Thank you.” You smile at her and she returns it. 

You spend the next hour eating and talking to Paige and you couldn’t be happier. Somehow, you had managed to not make a complete fool of yourself eating pasta in front of her. The two of you talked about almost everything: school, family, friends, the future, the past. And even though you already had started gaining feelings for Paige, the things she told you made you see her in more of a different light. That she wasn’t just the playful, sarcastic basketball player that you fought over a bag of Tru Fru with one night. But that she was family-oriented, driven, strong, and didn’t have a problem with showing vulnerability towards you.

Once you and Paige finished dinner, you both fought over who would pay to which she had ultimately won that fight. She took you back to her car and began the journey back to your dorm room. Her hand once again found its way to your thigh and you looked her way. “Thank you for tonight.”

Paige smiled. “Of course, I just hoped you liked it.”

“I did,” you paused. “I like spending time with you and getting to know you.”

“Yeah?” she asked with that smugness that was always underlying every word she said.

“Yeah.”

On the way back to your dorm, the two of you just talked more. However, it was harder to hear her with the noise of your own heart beating in your chest echoing in your ears. When she pulled into the parking lot of your dorm, she put the car in park and turned her whole body towards you. “I hope I made it up to you.”

You nod. “You did.”

“Good,” she spoke quietly, looking intently into your eyes. “Listen, I had a great time with you tonight. Well, I always do.”

“I had a great time too.”

“Oh, I have something else for you.” She reached into the back seat of her car and pulled out a target bag full of stuff. She hands you the bag and you look through it. It had to have been more than ten bags of different Tru Fru snacks.

“Oh my god, Paige,” you said, shocked as you looked through the bag. “This has to be over fifty dollars worth of Tru Fru.”

Paige just shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. It was worth it.”

You sat in silence for a few seconds, contemplating if the next move was the right one or not. But judging the situation as Paige staring at you and you staring back, there was no denying the obvious tension that could almost fog up the windows of her car.

“I have something for you too,” you respond.

“Oh yeah?” Paige leaned forward just a bit. “I thought I was the one who was giving the gifts tonight.”

Your eyes flickered between her eyes and soft lips. “Change of plans.”

Before you can think twice, you crash your lips onto hers, earning a small groan from her in response. She instantly deepened the kiss and caressed your cheek with her hand as your hands flew to her neck. Your lips moved together with hers in the most perfect way possible, igniting that same fire you felt when you kissed her for the first time back at your dorm.

Moments later you see a flash beside you as you kiss her. She keeps your bottom lip between her teeth as she pulls away slowly. She has her phone out in her left hand and you nudge towards it. “Did you just take a picture of us?”

She laughs. “Yeah,” she says as she pulls down the visor above you that had no photos. “Gonna have to start filling up this space with some new pictures and I think pictures of me and my girlfriend would be perfect.” She flashed her signature smirk as you froze.

“Girlfriend?” you ask quietly.

“If you want that, yes I want to make you my girlfriend. Things are still new but I just want you to know that I do plan on making you mine.”

Everything inside you wanted to scream out of pure happiness but you kept it together. Even though you and Paige hadn’t been talking for long, the two of you couldn’t mistake the undeniable chemistry the two of you shared. “Yes, I want that.”

“Good,” Paige said before she kissed you again. “I’m glad I fought with you over that bag of Tru Fru.”

“Me too.”

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Untitled

[jungkook x reader]

"You wanna know about art? When the class president starts touching my face on darkened street corners, and talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal."

Or THE popular fuckboy in your campus suddenly signs up as the figure model to one of your extracurricular activities and starts showing his interest in you.

A/N: I'm not sure where I went with this. Thus, untitled. I'm not even sure where this falls in the tags. But, enjoy!

-

Jungkook is at odds with himself.

Part of him wants to leave and forget about this stupid idea. He doesn't know what compelled him to listen to Jin. What exactly does the old man know about dating anyway? As far as he knows, he's never seen him with the same girl, so maybe he should have reached out to Namjoon instead. The other part is hyping himself up. In about a few minutes, you’ll be coming through those doors. It would be too late to back out now.

He chugs his bottled water as if he were thirsty. Jungkook thinks he'll pass out from anxiety. If not that, then from how warm it is inside this garage turned makeshift studio.

He feels the beads of sweat trickle down his back and pits.

This is not good.

The class is about to start and he'll be stripping down to his boxers and he's all sweaty. Thinking about that uneventful possibility makes him sweat more.

Fuck.

He notices someone walk towards the corner he has been hiding in. Judging by how good-looking his face is and the vintage clothing he wears, Jungkook surmises this must be the Senior organizing this art class. Taeyong? Taehyun?

Ah, Taehyung, he remembers just before the elder stands infront of him.

"You're Jungkook, right?"

Jungkook only nods as a response. His dry throat keeps him from speaking, afraid he squeaks out a reply and embarrasses himself more.

Thankfully, the other man is kind enough to not assume his silence as being standoffish.

"Nervous, huh?" Taehyung smirks, but Jungkook doesn't feel like he's being provoked. Rather, it actually calms him—at least the idea that it must be a common occurrence for models to exude this much anxiety that it's the first question people assume.

"That obvious?" He squeaks before clearing his throat. "Do all models get nervous on their first time?" Jungkook finally grounds his voice. Albeit, a bit meek for someone with a strong commanding aura and in a leather jacket.

Taehyung smiles and nods. "More than you expect. Which is understandable. Jin hyung told me you're doing this to learn more about art?"

No, he isn't, he internally protests. He doesn't know what Jin told Taehyung. The real reason he's here on a Sunday, as a supposed 'volunteer' model for a drawing class, is because of you.

The rest, he let Jin fill it out so Jungkook can secure the spot.

But of course, he wouldn't divulge those. So, Jungkook once again clears his throat before responding with a meek 'yes' as he shoots his empty water bottle in the can, making a clanging noise. He smiles sheepishly at the circled crowd whose attention he caught. He cringes at how much he's going out of his way to act cool. He's never this way, and yet, he wants to make sure you witness him with his best foot forward today.

Jungkook sways on the balls of his feet, taking in the space when he sees you—just as you were hooking your bag in your chair.

Goddamn, you're pretty. He's watching you laugh with another girl stationed near your table as you lay out your tools.

"Ready when you are." Taehyung breaks him out of his trance, and he replies with a sheepish nod—hoping he wasn't caught staring at you.

Jungkook starts by taking off his shoes, then his leather jacket. He unbuttons his pants with briefs in tow and the thought that you would be looking at his crotch makes him blush. He shamelessly imagines you and him as Jack and Rose in that sketching scene. But, before he can pull his jeans down, a booming baritone voice hollers at him.

Taehyung hurries towards him. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Jungkook freezes at the sudden aggression. His mouth puckers open and close like a fish coming up for air, as he struggles to come up with a reply.

Taehyung tilts his head and assesses the young man with a pout. "Did Seokjin not tell you this isn't a nude class? We just need you to strip to your shirt and jeans," Taehyung clarifies in a whisper.

Embarrassment floods Jungkook and he sputters out an apology. He silently curses himself between nervous laughs and incoherent words of what seemed to be apologies. Shy doe eyes peeps at you and the confused and scandalized look painted on your face makes him want to get swallowed by the ground and never reappear in front of you ever again.

You must think he’s some kind of a creep or worse, a flasher. With a big exhale, he tries to set aside the embarrassment and go through this. It's already bad enough that his nerves and recent embarrassment made a sweat stain on his shirt.

Not long after, Jungkook stands in the middle of the circle of easels. It actually isn't bad, he thinks. Most of the time, he's staring at wood stands and the occasional heads peeking out of the canvas.

You're on his side, so he can only see you through his peripheral vision. Even so, he can already visualize the vein popping on your forehead when you concentrate—just one of the things he adores on your face.

That afternoon, Jungkook finds out he likes the thought of you paying this much attention and focus on him, instead of the other way around.

He holds his growing smile at bay.

-

The hour-long class went quicker than Jungkook wanted. He takes his time picking up his jacket and pretends to search for something in his bag as he waits for you to pack up. However, you never rise from your seat.

It takes Taehyung tapping your shoulder to bring you out of your world. "You still get tomorrow, Y/N," he hears Taehyung remind you before walking around the room, checking progress.

Jungkook didn't mean to eavesdrop more, but when you stood up and followed Taehyung, he couldn't help but tune in to your conversation.

"I need a little more time to fix a few edges. Can I just extend for a while? I'll clean up the supplies room." You bargain, voice kept low as if you're making an illegal trade with Taehyung.

Jungkook hears the older man sigh and call your name softly. "You still have tomorrow to work on it, and the next few days. Plus, I can't suddenly ask the model to stay just for you."

You whine petulantly like a child and Jungkook wonders if he can make you whine under different situations. Perhaps, under hi—

"He can go. I just need—"

The moment he makes out your reply, Jungkook was quick to cut you off and offer his time. "I can stay for a while."

Both you and Taehyung turn your heads to face the man who looks like a deer caught in the headlights, but he might as well have been. Your glowered confused eyes stare into him. "I-if you want," he stutters, so he tries to salvage his image with an obviously feigned nonchalant shrug.

Taehyung holds back his laugh but the sudden expulsion of air from his nose wasn't amiss, earning a side eye from you.

"No need," you answer with finality. "You get paid by the hour, right? I can't pay you and—"

"You don't have to pay me. I'm offering for free." Jungkook internally winces at how quick he was in offering himself. But if he were being honest, he would stay in this shoddy garage all night, through the blazing summer heat, as long as it's time spent with you.

Is it a crime that he's quick to take an opportunity when it has presented itself?

He thinks abso-fucking-lutely not.

Your eyebrows furrow, the 'I wasn't done talking' death glare you directed at Jungkook has him shift awkwardly on his foot and look everywhere else but at you.

"Still, I'd get in trouble for requesting more time, anyway. Can't have other students think Taehyung here has favorites." You press and it chips a bit of his confidence. It was obvious you didn't want him to stay. If he keeps insisting, you might think he's creepy.

Jungkook didn't want to seem too pushy anyway, and so, lets out a defeated "Oh.." and nods. His round eyes making it easy to see his dismay as it curves downwards a little at the sides.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Taehyung intervenes. The older man was amused as he watched Jungkook flounder around you, he also knows how oblivious and dismissive you are of guys like Jungkook to a fault. And so, he helps.

Ah, young love, Taehyung muses. "Just make sure to clean up and lock up after, like you promised." He tosses the keys to you, but you make no movement of catching it, letting the keys hit your chest and fall to the ground.

Now your glare is directed towards your sunbaenim. "On second thought, I'm wrapping it up for tonight then." You head towards your easel to pack up your stuff.

Taehyung sighs.

He tells Jungkook to wait a bit and pick up the keys as he follows after you, calling your name.

“Just take the guy's offer to help. He’s trying to learn more about art, too,” he whispers, arms crossing across his chest. "Isn't this the piece you're submitting with your application? I know that head of yours will run nonstop if you don't finish what you intended to do tonight." Taehyung nudges you with a smile and softly jabs his pointer finger to your temple, making you chuckle with a pout. You shoo his hand away from your face and he knows he got you to stay.

This Jungkook kid owes him, Taehyung thinks.

However, from where Jungkook stands, he sees you breaking out the cutest smile at Taehyung. His eyes even going bigger at what he believes is an affectionate touch to your face when Taehyung boops your forehead.

Is that even ethical or something, he wonders irately. Taehyung isn't much older but given that he's your sunbaenim, Jungkook thinks he shouldn't be doing that. Or even be standing close to you. He's currently throwing imaginary lasers at Taehyung's back when you both turn to him and he immediately unsquints his eyes.

"Jungkook, do you still want to stay?" Taehyung shouts at the young man.

Yes.

A hundred times yes. He's a lovesick loyal puppy and if you ask him to bark, he'll bark for you.

Jungkook nods enthusiastically and rushes closer to where you stand, eager to wedge himself between you and Taehyung.

-

"Jungkook," you sigh his name tiredly. "I really need you to stop moving your head. Is there something more interesting behind me?" The question was rhetorical, but you're starting to wonder what he keeps on staring at behind you that you turn your head, only to be greeted with a wall filled with hanged canvases.

You hear him mumble out a you with a smirk, but was quick to cover it up with a sorry. This guy think he was slick.

Jungkook turns his head to assume his supposed pose. His eyes still filled with mirth. And he lasts about four minutes before his head starts turning towards you. Again.

You throw your head forward with an exhausted groan. This was a mistake. You're growing more frustrated by the minute. Maybe you should call it a night.

Looking back up at your model, you tell him he can leave.

Jungkook breaks his stance then quickly poses as he quickly persuades you. "No, I'll stay still. Look," he promises and follows through quickly by holding the pose.

"No, I'm just really too tired for tonight. Thank you for staying a bit longer." You busy yourself by grabbing at your stuff, cleaning pencil shards here and there to keep the lurking unease.

You can't have a breakdown here again, you admonish yourself. And it's going to feel worse after if Jungkook's here to see it happen. You keep your head down while your hands wipe the charcoal dust on the table.

You hear footsteps nearing you, and you pray to whoever listens that he's not actually coming closer. He calls your name, his voice close and soft. You hum in response, head still hung low, refusing to face him.

Jungkook sees you rubbing an eraser at a blank surface and purses his lips. He finally got the chance to spend time with you and he was hoping to break the ice and get closer to you, but he does this—he upset you and wasted your time. You're not gonna want to spend more time with him after this.

"I-I'm sorry. I really wanted to help. I can stay again tomorrow to make up for tonight," he offers. Everything about him screams eagerness and he must really be interested in art to be willing to stay in the garage-slash-studio during this Summer heat.

You feel the tingling pressure in your throat and your lips quiver. You clear your throat and will away the tears before it breaks through your paper wall.

"No. You did great, Jungkook. I'm just not feeling well tonight." Your voice was too soft, but at least it didn't break.

Jungkook walks around you and turns to face you, hands making contact with your shoulder. "Are you sick? I have some medicine in my bag," he offers. He retracts his hand and unzips his bag to take out whatever medicine he had stashed inside.

It's his genuine concern that does it for you. You suddenly sob and cover your face with your hands.

"Oh, Y/N, are you okay? Does something hurt?" He didn't expect this. Jungkook was taken aback and his worried eyes looked for signs of where you could have been hurt.

Your sobs turned to full-on bawling and Jungkook was quick to take you into his arms. He lets you cry and occasionally whispers assurances between your weeping despite not knowing why you suddenly burst into tears.

In that moment, you stood illuminated by harsh yellowish fluorescent lights like a Gustav Klimt painting on display. The A/C humming noise drowned out by your hiccups and his whispers.

You were the first to pull away. He didn't mean to, but the moment you separated from Jungkook and lowered your hands from your face, he laughed.

Offended at his reaction, you push him away and quickly gather your bag hanging on the chair.

"Wait," he calls for you as he fumbles to pick up the bag he let fall to the floor.

He calls your name but you decidedly ignore him, feet shuffling quickly to leave the garage.

Fucking ass, you think. You're mortified. You already dread tomorrow as your imagination runs wild. What if he tells his friends about your ugly crying? You think you don't care what frat guys think, but you still definitely don't want to be the talk of the campus. You've only transferred here last year and after being briefed by your friend on who to avoid, you made sure not to have a run in with guys like Jungkook.

This is exactly why you were holding everything in earlier. Every stereotype of frat guys being huge assholes behind the charming facade were true.

A flash of high school memories ambush you and you just want to get to your dorm and hide under your blankets. You'll just have to miss tomorrow's class, you plan.

You violently shrug when you feel a hand grip your wrist.

"Hey, will you wait," Jungkook pleads. You turn to face him and see him reach something in his pockets.

Fuck. He's not going to take a photo, isn't he?

You were ready to lunge at him, anything to prevent him from taking a snap at your post-bawl blotched face, when all of sudden, a soft cloth touched your face.

Jungkook chuckles at your startled face.

"You have charcoal smudged all over your face," he points out. His bunny teeth peeks through his curved lips and the sides of his eyes wrinkle from amusement.

"Oh." You visibly flinch when he uses his thumb to brush the apple of your cheeks.

"There," he smiles, eyes fixated on his finger caressing your skin.

"You know you really have pretty eyes."

If you were in a romantic movie, his line would have panned out well. But you're not, so cue the sound of glass breaking to signify a shattered moment.

To think, you bought his act. You thought, here's a deviant frat boy species. Maybe not all of them are only interested in girls and booze. You even thought this Jeon Jungkook isn't so bad.

Until he says that.

Breaking away and stepping back from him, you humorlessly laugh in disbelief.

"You're a fucking cliché, Jungkook. Does this babble usually work on chicks?" You take a look at him and he has the audacity to look unaware of how hokey the situation is.

"Wha—" Poor boy couldn't even finish his sentence, you thought.

"Y/N, I'm not following."

You were about to make a joke on flies flying straight to his agape mouth but you hold yourself back. Instead, you make a gesture of shaking your head as you force out another dry laugh. You look at him one last time and walk away from the frat boy once again.

You hear his footsteps follow you, along with calls of your name. "Did I say something wrong?"

You stop as you reach the threshold—you're almost out of the garage and out into the cold dark night, ready to rush into the safety of your dorm and away from sleazy college boys.

But something in you compels you to turn, and so you do. "Yes, Jungkook. You did." Your hands grip your bag tighter, feet taking a couple of steps back into the garage, to the shoddy light so he can see you.

"Did you really think this charming ‘oh-i’m-clueless act was going to drop panties? You wanna know about art?" You hurl the question; voice no longer shaky and unsure. "When the campus playboy starts touching my face on dimly lit spaces, and starts talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal." You roll your eyes at him before making your exit.

It takes a minute for Jungkook to get his body to move. And when he does, you're already a distance away. Almost gone from his sight.

This is the second time today that you rendered him immobile and speechless. Just what the fuck did he do?

-

Meanwhile, you cursed at Jeon Jungkook on your entire walk home. Fuck him and his round innocent eyes for throwing the bees and butterflies in your stomach into chaos.

You tell yourself you dodged a bullet and that was just a ploy for him to get into your pants. You should actually congratulate yourself for turning away one of the notorious womanizers. Your roommate would be proud of you.

Still, you couldn't deny the jolt you felt in your chest when he touched your face and spewed those cheesy lines about your eyes.

You grunt as you slam the door to your dorm.

"Damn. Who pissed you off?" Jihyo, your roommate stares at you across her table.

You heave a sigh of exhaustion and plop yourself on the carpeted floor. "Had a run in with a frat guy," you spit with a scowl. "You remember the guy you were talking about last week? Jungkook? He's the model for this week."

"Seriously? That's..." Jihyo's head tilted sideways as she looked for the right word, brows furrowing. "Out of character for him."

You raise your head and prop your arms to face your roommate. "Right? That's what I thought, but Taehyung said he was interested in learning art."

At this, Jihyo pauses while eating and guffaws. "Is he for real?"

You roll your eyes at no one in particular and rest your head on your palms as your other hand plucks at the carpet. "Nah, I'm pretty sure he was just there to pick up girls."

Jihyo squints at you, suddenly alert as she senses something you haven't told her yet.

"He hit on me," you start. Already growing flustered at the recollection of the afternoon. "You know those cheesy lines from romcoms, he actually used them on me." You went on detail by detail about what happened and ended your story with a shudder. "This is the first time I might dread going to the class."

"Yep, I see why he thinks he could get away with the cheesiest line," Jihyo murmurs. Apparently, during your story, Jihyo picked up her phone and started to stalk Jungkook's profile. "I mean shame it wasn't nude because have you seen this body?" She flips her phone so you can see her screen.

"What? That's not Jungkook." You stand from your spot and walk closer to Jihyo and snatch the phone. "This isn't Jungkook."

"What are you talking about? That’s literally his profile,” Jihyo takes her phone back, wanting to take another look if you’re looking at the same thing. “See, Kim Jongkook. He’s the notorious fuck boy, probably in all departments. Good thing is, he’s graduating this year.”

Oh, fuck.

-

>> Still Untitled

[ratridingaskateboard]

Tear You Apart

Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader!

TW: 18+, wet dream, p in v, cursing, bdsm, sexual acts, sexual fantasies, etc.

A/N: The trigger warnings would be too long if I mentioned every sexual act ever done in this story. We would be here all day!!

Synopsis: Eddie has had a crush on Y/n since the day she stepped foot into Hawkins High School. After constantly fantasizing about her, will fantasy finally become a reality?

-

The second Y/n waltzed her way into the main hall of Hawkins High, Eddie was awe-struck. She was clad in a bleached jean jacket capped in patches and pins of metal and rock bands. Many of them Eddie hadn’t even heard of. The Black Sabbath t-shirt she wore had been ripped to shreds, showing only a tanktop underneath. Her plaid red skirt swayed as she walked and had boys and girls anticipating for a gush of wind to reveal what was hidden under that scanty piece of clothing. To no one’s surprise, within minutes of walking in she was quickly pulled into the principal’s office for dress code violations.

The hall had erupted into gossip over who this mystery girl was. No one at Hawkins had a single clue who she was or why she chose their school to be graced with her presence. Eddie had never seen anyone like her in Hawkins, if he had he would’ve known. Just seeing what she was wearing made the blood rush to his cheeks but the second he saw her patched covered jacket he was practically on his knees.

This was his chance to finally get with a girl who he shared similar interests with. Don’t get him wrong, Eddie loved getting laid no matter what type of girl it was. But most girls had little to no interest in Eddie, they just wanted to see what it was like to fuck the school freak. They didn’t complain but they didn’t speak about it either. He was, to put it simply, a conquest. Now he had the ability to be around someone who, he hoped, wouldn’t shun him away like the others.

Eddie’s friends gathered around him at his locker, passing comments about the new girl and her clothing.

“God- I hope they don’t give her a pair of pants to wear.” Gareth hissed under his breath.

“I think I saw her bra underneath her shirt” Jeff added.

“The second you guys see a girl you are like dogs! I am surrounded by barbarians!” Dustin was quick to be the voice of reason. It was hard for teenage boys to view any girl as a person much less a girl who showed a little skin.

“You’re right Dustin. Did you see her jacket? It was covered in Metal patches. She seems cool.” Eddie finally added.

“Sorry Eddie- I was a little busy looking at other pieces of clothing she was wearing.” Gareth said.

Eddie rolled his eyes. One of the things Wayne had taught Eddie once he had reached puberty was to be a gentleman. Apparently, Gareth was not given this pep talk. Obviously, Eddie was attracted to her but he had to push down the want to tear her clothes off in order to form a relationship with her.

Hours had passed and she was still no where to be seen. Eddie assumed the principal must have sent her home with the list of violations she had achieved on the first 15 minutes she was inside the school.

Lunch was no different than usual except for the extra chatter of the mysterious new girl and her fondness for revealing clothing. Eddie pushed the food around on his lunch tray, disgusted by the unknown meat with the rancid smell.

“Hey-“ A gentle hand pressed against Eddie’s shoulder. The smell of cigarettes and vanilla filled his nostrils. Eddie looked up to see his friends wide eyed, staring at this unknown figure behind him.

“I like your Dio patch. That’s my favorite album by them.”

Eddie moved his neck to look at her but he found himself too embarrassed to look her in the eyes. Instead, his eyes focused on the jacket she wore, naming each band in his head- trying to get his mind off the absolute fool he was making of himself.

Shit, her hand was still on his shoulder. His face turned to a shade of red he didn’t believe was possible to achieve unless in scorching hot weather.

“Don’t mean to be an asshole but your sewing isn’t the best.” She traced a line with her finger against the trim of the patch. Eddie could still feel the softness of her fingertips even through the denim of jacket and cotton of his shift. Suddenly, Eddie felt the warmth of her breath against his ear.

“If you ever need someone to teach you, I would love to.”

Her hand moved back to his shoulder and lightly squeezed it, sending spikes of electricity through his spine. Then, she was gone.

Eddie’s face remained just as red as before. His fellow Hellfire members tried to help him regain consciousness but Eddie remained silent. He was stunned. He had never felt so weak. She toyed with him and he didn’t even fight back. He had never felt so powerless. In most situations he had had with girls, he was the one who approached and the one who lead. But, she… she was different.

“Eddie, dude, you should probably go to the bathroom.” Jeff patted Eddie’s shoulder, finally getting his attention.

Eddie looked down to find his dick as stiff as a board in his pants. Jesus Christ, he needed to get his shit together. This girl was messing with his fucking head.

After a moment in the bathroom, Eddie was able to go about his day as normally as he could. He still stumbled whenever he thought of the softness of her hand or the smell of her perfume. But as long as he didn’t see her he was fine. Right?

After Hellfire, Eddie returned to the trailer he shared with his Uncle and plopped himself on his bed. God- was he exhausted. Didn’t know being teased by a girl would make him so tired. His eyes fluttered closed and he gave in.

“E-Eddie please,” Y/n wimpered, looking up at him with big doe eyes, her hands restrained behind her back.

“Please what?” Eddie persisted, his leg pushing in between her thighs, feeling the warmth of her.

“P-Please fuck me!” She huffed, grinding her hips against his thigh. She seemed so helpless now. Her dominance was subdued by him and she had become a mess of herself.

“How much do you want it?” Eddie whispered in her ear, her perfume smelled even stronger when he was this close to her neck.

“I-I want it so bad, Eddie! Please I’m begging you!” She wailed.

He loved seeing her like this. Fuck, it made him feel like he was gonna cum in his pants. He couldn’t make her wait any longer and neither could he.

He started to reach his hand under her shirt when-

He woke up. It was a dream. It was a fucking dream. And one thing he knew about dreams like these, they always end the same.

Eddie lifted his comforter to find his boxers covered with jizz as well as the sheets underneath him. Eddie’s face crumpled into a frown. He had to get her back for this.

-

A/N: Dont worry there will be a part two coming soon!!! Hope u enjoyed

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Halloween Party

Lee Harker x fem!autistic!reader Warnings: brief mentions of drinking/intoxication, smoking, awkward autism times, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.7k

Summary: You and Lee meet in the most unlikely of places (at least for you two): a party. But it's your mutual awkwardness that endears you to one another.

You couldn’t believe you’d let your friends drag you to this Halloween party… You weren’t a party person, especially not big, loud ones like this. But they’d insisted, said they were going all out for their costumes. When you’d clambered into the back seat of the car as they picked you up on the way, you realized that you’d wildly misunderstood what “all out” on costumes meant. All your friends… their outfits were skimpy and sexy. They looked amazing.

You, on the other hand… well, you’d spent three hours spiking your short hair up with gel and drawing a beard on your face with eyeliner and a brow pen. When you got in the car, you swear you could’ve heard crickets.

“Um… so who are you exactly?” one of them asked.

You shuffled awkwardly. “Gay Fieri.”

“You mean Guy Fieri?”

“No, no. Gay Fieri. Because I’m gay, get it? Like drag, kind of.”

They all laughed, and you blushed a bit. It was all in good fun, of course, but this wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last time that you’d unintentionally missed the memo on what a particular turn of phrase meant. You'd missed what kind of costumes all your friends would be wearing. Not that you’d have worn something like that anyway… You were much more comfortable in your loose button-up and jeans.

You knew, ten minutes into the party, that you’d probably end up Ubering home after a while. There were too many people for you, many of whom you didn’t know. It was too loud and chaotic and your friends were having fun in places other than the corner with you. Which was fine, you just weren’t cut out for parties like this.

Another woman–a little taller than you, sunglasses on even in the dimly-lit house, sidled up to the corner with you, sipping quietly from a cup. She wore an FBI jacket and a lanyard with what you assumed were fake credentials.

“I hate parties,” she muttered over her drink.

“Me too,” you agreed before settling into a comfortable, people-watching silence.

After a few minutes, even behind the sunglasses, you noticed she was watching you.

“What?” you asked, flushing a bit.

“Who are you supposed to be exactly?”

“Gay Fieri. Like, the Food Network guy, but gay. Here, like this.” You set your drink down on a nearby counter and stood up tall, doing your best to adopt Guy Fieri’s voice and personality and, you weren’t gonna lie, you were pretty good at it. Call it a remnant of a childhood hyperfixation on Triple D. Your voice immediately shifted into that particular Guy Fieri cadence. “I’m Gay Fieri, and we’ll see you next time on Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dykes!”

The girl cracked a smile, just a small one, like she was trying to keep her face passive, and you grinned, knowing that even if she didn’t want to show it, you’d made her laugh.

“Anyway,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck nervously. “Your costume’s pretty obvious.” Then you realized your words could sound insulting and backtracked quickly. “Not in a bad way or anything! Just… uh... clear, you know? Not… ambiguous?” Jesus, this conversation was going terribly. You probably should go home while you were ahead or, well, not so far behind.

“It’s not a costume,” she said, her voice blunt, almost flat.

“Oh…” It took a minute for your brain to register what that meant. “Oh, so you’re… a real FBI agent?”

She nodded, taking another sip of her drink.

“That’s cool.”

You sat in silence for a few more minutes. Normally, you’d be nervous about the silence, it’d make you feel like you were doing something wrong. But somehow with this girl, it didn’t feel wrong, just felt like how both of you would be most comfortable.

“I’m Y/N,” you blurted out, realizing you’d forgotten to introduce yourself or even ask her name.

“Lee,” she replied, watching you stim your hands awkwardly at your sides for a moment. She slumped against the wall. “So who’d you come here with? Boyfriend?”

You scoffed, amused. “Do I look like the kind of person who has a boyfriend? Please. I came here with my friends. I don’t like boys, not my type.”

Lee had that look on her face again, the almost-smile, but she was hard to read with the sunglasses on. People were hard for you to read anyway.

“What is your type, then?” she asked, fiddling with the zipper of her jacket.

Your answer was honest, blunt, and you blurted it out before even thinking, before making the connection, not realizing how it would sound: “Women in law enforcement.”

You meant it as a joke, you meant it as a stupid, stupid reference to your obsession with cop television shows, like Criminal Minds or SVU, but… there was a real, live woman in law enforcement in front of you and… well, you’d just accidentally been more forward than perhaps you’d ever been in your life.

“I mean, uh… anyway…” You shuffled uncomfortably, your body and brain screaming at you to get out of there before you dug yourself further into a hole. “I gotta… one of my friends… see you later.”

You found one of your friends and joined the group she was talking with, not really wanting to converse, but trying to at least act intrigued, act… not as flustered as you were. But you noticed her all night–Lee–in your periphery, and you thought it might be just your imagination, but it felt like she was watching you. It made you both embarrassed and excited. On the one hand, maybe she… maybe she liked you, too? But, no, why would she? You looked ridiculous. You acted ridiculous. Probably she was watching you because she couldn’t believe anyone could be such a huge, raging idiot.

A little bit later, you were sitting on the curb outside, relishing the quiet of the night, waiting for your Uber, when two women sat down on either side of you. They weren’t your friends. You didn’t know who they were at all.

“Uh..” you stuttered.

“You’re Y/N, right?” one of them asked.

You were very confused. You weren’t a popular person, and there’s no reason at all why these two random women would know you.

“Yeah…?”

“Our friend Lee really likes you. She thinks you’re cute.”

Your stomach dropped nearly to the asphalt underneath you. No way. No fucking way. “Uh… what?”

“The FBI dweeb who didn’t even wear a costume,” the other said, describing her. “She couldn’t keep her eyes off you all night. You should ask her out.”

“Oh, I don’t–”

At that exact moment, Lee herself appeared in the doorway, her face immediately turning crimson as she saw her friends sitting next to you.

“Guys,” she grumbled, walking quickly down the porch steps. “Oh my god… seriously?”

Her friends giggled, obviously a little drunk, as Lee approached, hands crossed over her chest.

“Get out of here,” she chastised as they stood, laughing, and made their way back inside. “Jesus… leave her alone.”

Lee sat down next to you, sighing heavily as she removed her sunglasses. Your breath caught in your throat, and your cheeks burned. She was already pretty, but her eyes. God, so lovely and deep and–and… You had to look away.

“Sorry about them,” she said, her voice flat.

“It’s okay…”

“Did they, uh… did they say…” Her face was turning red, too, and you could tell what she was trying to get out.

You nodded, your voice quiet, timid. “Yep.”

She blew out her cheeks, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay…”

You sat in silence again for a minute, and you still loved having her there, still liked the way the silence didn’t feel uncomfortable. Lee pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, holding it gently to her lips before exhaling. She was so pretty. So cool. Why would she ever like you? But you knew you’d never forgive yourself if you let it go without even trying, without even just seeing if maybe it was real, the things her friends said.

“Was it… were they right?”

She looked at the ground, taking another drag on her cigarette, blushing a little. “Yeah.”

Your stomach did a little flip. You couldn’t believe it, couldn’t quite wrap your head around it. You knew you had to make a ridiculous picture, you sitting here with your fake beard and your spiked hair, Lee next to you looking impossibly cool like, apparently, she did every day. And she'd looked at you and thought… more?

“Um…” You weren’t really sure how to go about this. “We could… maybe we could… hang out sometime?”

She still didn’t look at you, her eyebrows furrowing thoughtfully. “Hang out?”

Be clear, you thought. Say what you mean.

“Go out… on a date.”

Now, Lee did turn to look at you, her wide, brown eyes piercing and intense as they took you in. You couldn’t read them yet, couldn’t tell what they were saying, but god you’d like to learn.

You were quick to backtrack. You didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. “Or just hang out. Either one. Or neither… or–”

“Give me your phone.” She tucked her cigarette behind her ear, so that both of her hands were free, typing her contact info in. You could barely breathe, barely believe this was happening to you, it was like a dream. She handed it back, looking you in the eye again, retrieving her cigarette and taking another drag. “I’m free tomorrow. If… if you are.”

“I–” You stumble over your words. “Uh… yeah. I’m free. I’m 100% free. So free, you wouldn’t believe.”

She gave you that half-smile again, looking at the ground, and you felt your stomach erupt in butterflies. Oh, you didn’t think you’d ever get tired of making her look like that.

Your Uber pulled up, and you were reluctant to leave, but you held onto the promise of tomorrow. “Tomorrow then?” you clarified. “I’ll text you?”

She gave you a little wave, smiling softly, for real this time, her whole face. And it was as if the sun itself had shone on you. “Tomorrow.”

It was all you could do not to scream in excitement the whole way home.

[xzerosparrowx]

For week six of @astrangersummer

Prompt: Ice cream/sweat | wc: 741 | rating: E | cw: mild language, strong sexual themes | tags: gratuitous use of a popsicle, Jawbreaker-esque, horny.

popsicle

✨️🍦✨️🍦✨️

The sun is bearing down on them, the oppressive sweltering summer heat forcing the residents of Hawkins to use their air conditioners, fans, and fridges in an attempt to cool down.

When Steve invited Robin and Eddie to his house to cool down he never thought about what Eddie would wear. He just sort of assumed the resident metal head would just be wearing his usual clothes; jeans, leather jacket and a band shirt. What Steve never imagined, or at least never imagined in broad daylight was Eddie wearing black cut-off jean shorts and a threadbare Elvis shirt that had been cropped haphazardly.

Steve wondered if he was hallucinating, or had died suddenly and his brain was showing him random, horny images of Eddie Munson as a last fuck you from life. It felt like he was in that scene in the Breakfast Club where Emelio Estevez had finally realised how pretty Ally Sheedy was before her awful makeover, or that fucking volleyball scene with Tom Cruise.

The outfit simultaneously exposed too much and not enough. Too much thigh, and frustratingly not enough waist. He felt out of sorts when Eddie walked through his door, his eyes catching on tattoos he had never seen before, the black ink swirling down his right thigh and up his waist. He caught himself staring way too often when the three of them laid on the kitchen tiles, the open fridge cooling the air slightly around them as they shared whatever was left of the vanilla ice cream.

Apparently, the meager offering was not enough for Robin, who sprang to her feet when the familiar tune of an ice cream truck rounded the corner onto the street. It didn't take much convincing to get Steve to pay for all of them; Robin bought an ice cream sandwich, Steve bought soft serve with hardened chocolate topping and Eddie bought…

Well he fucking bought a popsicle, the asshole.

So here Steve was, sitting out by the pool with his friends, their legs dangling in the cool water and watching the, frankly disgusting, scene of Eddie Munson practically blowing his popsicle. He looks to Robin to see if she is also witnessing the borderline porno happening right in front of them but she's too busy reading Slyvia Plath and eating her ice cream to notice.

Steve wonders if this will be a formative experience, if he will look back on today in twenty years and say “yeah, this is the day I associated eating popsicles with head.” He tears his eyes away from Eddie's now bright red lips, only to be met with large chocolate brown eyes staring straight at him.

He shoots up, mumbling an apology to Robin for splashing her and practically running inside the house. He can feel bullets of sweat line his forehead as he scrapes what's left of his ice cream in the kitchen sink and throws the cone in the trash. He readjusts himself when he opens the fridge, taking a bottle of water and swallowing down large gulpfuls of it in an attempt to calm the fuck down.

He startles when the backdoor clangs shut, spinning on his heels to face Eddie walking into the kitchen. Steve watches him throw Robin's wrapper in the trash, Eddie's own, mostly uneaten and melting, popsicle still in his hand. There is a cocky grin plastered on Eddie's face, a knowing mischievous glint in his eyes as he saunters towards Steve.

“Hey big boy, you ok?” Eddie's voice is low and Steve's brain is working at max capacity to take everything in. Taking in the way Eddie's hair is tied up, the way a bead of sweat drips down the length of Eddie's long neck and how warm Eddie is as the guy crowds him against the fridge.

“Yeah, I'm uh- I'm cool-” he stumbles through, swallowing when he watches Eddie bring the red popsicle back to his lips.

His eyes are glued to Eddie, breath hitching watching this fucking guy in front him swallow around the iced treat, his head bobbing up and down its length and those large brown eyes staring straight into Steve's as his tongue slurps around the popsicle. It's obscene, it's disgusting, and it's one of the hottest fucking things Steve has ever seen.

Eddie finishes the show with a kitten lick at the head- top, the fucking top of the popsicle before turning it towards Steve.

“You wanna taste?”

[foxufortunes]

Some random tips and trivia for anyone wanting to take a slightly more realistic look at exy and sport in their fanfics:

Long jogs are not good for sports like exy. The best you can say is they're good cardio, but most exercise they should be doing anyway is good cardio. To oversimplify: long term energy and fast action energy have different power supplies and training one doesn't really help the other. There's a reason sprinters and marathon runners are not the same people. Exy is a sport of fast bursts and in some cases long jogs can actually be detrimental to your ability to play these sports.

Dear lord, warm up and cool down. I know most of us just assume this is in there and glossed over, but if you're going into details, warm up and cool down and wear warm jackets after. Especially cool down. I know Kevin and Neil have already fucked their bodies but don't make it worse. Also, rest days. You body needs time to recover. Kevin and Jean will be lucky if they recover enough not to have any career after college given how much Tetsuji has fucked the Ravens with his training. Thea is probably in agony the entire time and she doesn't have long left playing.

Goalie's lead the defence line. If you want to throw around a defence captain type plot, it's your goalies, it's always goalies. Because they have the best view of the entire court. You dealer should control the entire team's plays, as the person who should be going from defence to offence and back (assuming they work similarly to other sports with a similar position) but the defence is always run by the goalie, and your goalies are usually really fucking loud about it.

Your division/class is actually nothing to do with your team's skill, but your school's sports program and budget. The Foxes are not a Class I team, Palmetto is a D1 school. To get this status, your school has to have a certain level of sports program, featuring a certain number of sports, sports for women, upcoming/rarer sports and certain required sports. While EAU blatantly ignores all of this as presented in canon (they seem to be D3 status, maybe D2 at best) who got their status through bribery and corruption and their coach, Palmetto, as presented in canon, clearly meets D1 school status. Your school's division also affects what kinds of scholarships they offer. Typically, only D1 schools offer full ride sports scholarships. It's most likely Palmetto was looking to fund an exy team and Wymack went to them because they're a D1 school, or they approached Wymack, unlike the Ravens who clearly don't understand how this works.

On the topic of Wymack: the ERC couldn't have had anything to do with Andrew's miracle in October. We'll get to this but the ERC is just not that powerful, and, see above point, they have nothing to do with Palmetto's status. Now, Nora actually gives us a far more likely and better reason in the EC, that she then overcomplicated in canon trying to make the ERC more powerful for no reason, especially given Kevin wasn't even with the Foxes at the time. In the scene where we see Wymack recruiting the cousins, Andrew brings up the idea that Wymack's initial four year will be on it's last year that year and he needs results or the school will decline renewing his contract and rebuild the exy program from scratch under a new coach. This is far more likely a reason for him to need Andrew's miracle. It's his final year of his contract, the school wants results, and if they drop out now with so few games won, he's done for. And given how many NCAA rules he and Abby help the Foxes break, it won't be long before the rest of the Foxes lose their scholarships too.

Four years might seem like an odd amount of time for an initial contract, and it sorta is, but one thing mentioned in TSC that's never brought up in the original trilogy is redshirting. Basically, for all you have a five year contract, you can only play four seasons. One season, you get to practice, but not play games, this is called red shirting, and in my experience and what I've heard from others, it's typically the freshman, for obvious reason, but this does bring up issues for Wymack's team design, and means Neil will have to take a year off eventually. And don't even think about how this affects the Ravens.

Speaking of Ravens, this is honestly one of the most basic NCAA rules: you cannot play professionally and play NCAA. Kevin and Riko literally cannot be playing for professional teams and be playing for the Ravens, the NCAA would boot them instantly. And, up until very recently, you also cannot be paid for your photoshoots, or using your likeness or sponsorships. To play NCAA, during the period AFTG is set, you cannot make any money as a player. Now, there's an argument that Tetsuji could probably make that Kevin and Riko didn't make money as players, but as celebrities in their own rights, but that's a very grey area. But, no, they weren't getting paid for photoshoots or interviews or sponsorships or anything like that. The only exceptions are tournament winnings, and there is a very strict cap on that, and stipends which there was a lot of debate over whether that counted as payment or not. They cannot be paid for anything related to exy because the second the NCAA makes an exception for exy, every other sport wants it too, and I'm sure some of them are mafia backed too. Mafia bribery doesn't fix everything, and if your trying to write your mafia as not a bunch of idiots, they'll know where to stop.

And then the ERC. They're just not that powerful, y'all. I get that Nora wanted to make them seem powerful, but given how Riko does most of the shit not Tetsuji, even that's pointless. So, for a start, the ERC needs specific scope. It's cool to call it the Exy Rules and Regulations Committee, but for what? Sports tend to have an overall ruling body, but they don't actually control everything. They control things like national tournaments and teams. Then you have the country's body, that controls things like the leagues, and they often have different rules that take time to catch up to each other. Different leagues within the same country can have slightly different rules. And often the NCAA also has its own rules. (To use volleyball, because that does have wildly different rules, in the NCAA liberos can serve in certain conditions, and that's about the only place in the world this rule exists). Basically, they only have control if you're competing in their tournament or affiliated. For the ERC to have such control over the Foxes, they're likely an NCAA committee, this means the ERC only has power over rule and regulations of Class I exy (oh yes, each division has their own committee), meaning they control things like gear regulations, rules on bench size, foul rules ect. Not which class the Foxes are in, not if Andrew's allowed to play with them, nothing like that. It's strictly the rules of the game. And they are the bottom of the power chart. Above them you have things like the division committee, the student athlete's committee and so many others. The ERC actually has very little power because the NCAA is a massive, slow moving, complicated bureaucracy. Even if they could drop the Foxes a division or get rid of Andrew, it would take years.

[aclowntiny]

The Dancing Effect- Best Friend!Dino x Gender Neutral!Best Friend!Reader (College AU)

Word Count: 3,434 | Fluff, Best Friends to Lovers, College AU | Warnings: 💋 hehe

“Admit it, you love it.”

You turned to meet the eyes of your best friend, upturned in pleasure as he grinned at you, shaking your head in amusement as he ran a hand through his bleached-blonde hair.

He’d invited you to join a dance class with him, just a beginner one rather than the advanced stuff he did for his major, and out of need for an elective you’d agreed. The class was a mix of styles, ranging from swing and waltz to some fun Latin steps. Partners were assigned and you got given a guy named Jihoon who wasn’t exactly the tallest guy in class, but really shocked you with his strength when he effortlessly dipped you each salsa round. As you twirled around the smooth studio floor, you could see your own reflection passing the mirrored walls with a grin. There was no denying this was your most fun elective yet, even if you didn’t want to give Chan the satisfaction.

“I guess it is pretty fun,” you conceded mock-grudgingly, relenting into a grin at the pure joy radiating across Chan’s face.

He must have really wanted you to enjoy dancing. “What’s your favorite style so far?”

You swerved around a skateboarder, arcing around to return to Chan’s side. “I don’t know, there’s something cute about the swing,” you replied.

Your best friend nodded thoughtfully, squinting slightly at you as if in scrutiny. “I see.”

You just giggled. “What? Why, what’s your favorite?”

“I don’t know, the waltz is kind of romantic.”

“Oh yeah? Thinking of your partner, eh?” You couldn’t help but tease him. You didn’t know the girl he was paired with, but she seemed nice and no matter what his reaction would be funny.

“Ew,” Chan’s nose wrinkled, his face screwing up hilariously, “Minkyung is my friend’s sister! No way!”

You put your hands in the air, palms up. “All right, all right, just checking.”

“Yeah, she’s totally not my type.”

He always said that, but you’d yet to hear what was Chan’s type. If you didn’t know him so well, you’d just assume he wasn’t ready for a relationship, but he was a great guy, so probably just picky. Or looking for someone who could be as sassy as him, you reflected as the two of you continued teasing each other.

~

Chan’s club was hosting a little ‘fall bash’ outside of the student union. They were putting up one of those big shade tents with snack tables and setting up speakers, lights, and banners for some icebreakers and dancing. All students were welcome of course, so not majoring in dance didn’t exclude you in the slightest.

Free food and new company was all it took for you, a recent transfer to campus, to be sold, but the light show sounded like it was going to be bomb, too.

“Yeah, they’ll be dancing over us as we move! In fall colors of course almost like leaves! I tried to get them to actually make leaf-shaped formations, but they said-”

“Whoa, slow down there, Passion Boy.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”

“What are you going to wear?”

You cocked a brow. “Why, are you supposed to dress up? I didn’t think this was prom.”

“Nah, it’s wear whatever you want.”

“Then frankly I have no clue. Maybe that orange sweater I got? That's fall-y."

"Orange sweater. Got it."

~

You weren't sure what Chan had meant until you showed up to the party and saw him dressed in a burnt orange blazer, which was buttoned smartly over a black turtleneck and matching jeans and boots, just a hint of fall color that perfectly matched yours.

"What is this, Sadie Hawkins?" You teased, tugging at Chan's sleeves.

Your best friend just shrugged, pinching a peach ring out of a nearby candy bowl and bringing it to his lips. "Thought it might be fun."

"That is a cool blazer. Is it comfortable?"

"Here," he unbuttoned it immediately, shrugging it off his shoulders, "try it on."

Chuckling, you removed your jacket, then pulled the sleeves on over yours, buttoning yourself in and inhaling a big whiff of Chan's scent. A unique mix of cologne and that faint, perpetual bit of dance sweat. Whether it was a good or bad smell you couldn't even tell at that point because you were so used to it, it just smelled like home to you. Ever since you guys had your first class a year ago, you were inseparable, sharing car space and visiting each other's dorms all the time. In all honesty, you were a bit surprised you could still smell it after this long, but the blazer seemed to hold an extra concentrated Chan essence you found yourself wanting to inhale just for the comfort.

"So," your best friend raised his eyebrows, "like it?"

With a nod, you answered "I do. I might just steal it."

He teasingly unbuttoned it and pulled it back off you, onto his own chest once more. "Alright, then no more. Go get your hand stamped, (y/n)."

"Get my what now?"

"If you wanna dance, you have to sign the waiver and get a stamp. Campus liability and all that."

"Right, in case our swing dance rager gets us grievously wounded," you rolled your eyes, making your way to the table where two guys stood, one on either side.

One of them, a guy in white with black hair and a sweet smile, introduced himself as Soonyoung, gawking when you signed in as (y/n) because 'oh my gosh you're the friend Chan is always talking about'. He gave you an incredibly pleased grin as he pressed the stamp against the back of your hand, leaving a little orange cartoon of a fall leaf on it.

"Do you have any other stamps?" The other guy, a tall, trenchcoat-and-sweater-clad figure with sort of long hair, asked.

"We don't and you know it," Soonyoung shook his head, nudging him teasingly, "you international students think you can come in and tell us what to do, huh?"

Tall Guy put his hand over his heart in mock offense, and Soonyoung reached over to quickly stamp it, sticking his tongue out as he did so.

"You're an international student? Where are you from?"

"China," he answered with a wide smile, looking directly at you but batting at Soonyoung blindly from behind with one hand, "Guangdong, to be a little more specific. My name is Junhui."

"See, I may be the (y/n) Soonyoung heard about, but I've heard a ton about your dancing skills from Chan! He says he wants to go to China, you and the other guy are so good! What's the other guy's name?"

Junhui waved off your compliment. "Minghao is a way better dancer than me. And if you want dirt on Chan, he's the one you want to go to," he added with a devilish little smile.

"I'll remember that," you reply, mirroring his expression before wandering back over to the snack tables to grab a few of your favorite candies, squinting a bit in the dim purplish ambience and nighttime air to find them.

Your classmate Mia was at the snack table too, gingerly grabbing some chips as you stuffed your own face, so you busied yourself with asking how her math test went until a lilting, old-fashioned tune poured forth from the speakers.

You gasped. "Time to dance!" Tossing your candy wrappers, you shuffled excitedly over to the wide open area of student zone concrete that was the dance floor.

Being members of the hosting dance club, Junhui and Soonyoung each grabbed you for a dance first, and wow, was that two different experiences. Junhui led you so smoothly, fluidly, and gently you felt like you were being glided on clouds, dancing just as well as your instructor did. You almost felt like you were back in class learning the best pace for each triple-step. He was so nice about it, you forgot to feel embarrassed at your own novice skills. Following that, Soonyoung was a whirlwind, twirling you exuberantly and performing crossovers and turns you'd never even seen before; your feet could barely keep up, but you were laughing the whole time. Mia asked you to teach her what everyone was doing, so you did your best to lead her despite usually performing in class as a follower, clumsily giving her a lesson before taking her for a turn around the spotlight-dotted dance floor, the sidewalk a glittering, wonderful mess of dancing duos and even singles doing their own thing.

You stopped to drape your jacket on a chair, grab a soda and recharge, and that was when you saw Chan. He was doing the same thing as you, catching your eyes with a smile and nod of his head. His blonde hair was thoroughly tousled by the wind now, all the fast steps of the last song clearly being taken as a challenge.

A new song started a few sips later. "Come on, it's my turn now!"

The moment you obliged, Chan took your hand. Close as you guys were, you'd never really held hands before. It surprised you how delicately your best friend intertwined your fingers, taking your hand slowly as if reaching for something behind a door that might close. He held your hand like that, gently connected, until you reached the floor, where he let go, sliding his right hand down to your waist as you rested your left on his shoulder. He joined your other hands, extending them out a bit before glancing off, clearly mentally counting the song's pace.

Chan swayed you so gently, leading you carefully into each step of the turn. Much more warning than Soonyoung, and a little more care somehow than even Junhui, who moved like it was second nature to him. Chan seemed to take his time, savoring every motion and smiling widely at the joy you got from each turn. When you went to each side and even as you stepped back, his eyes never left yours. Maybe it was the spotlights dancing over the makeshift floor, but they looked extra sparkly tonight. Or maybe it was what you called the dancing effect. Jihoon was always cuter to you when he was dipping you.

That had to be it, but you'd never looked into Chan's eyes so deeply, so intently before. You knew if you looked at your feet, gazed too long at another pair dancing, you'd lose time, falter in your footing, so your best friend's gaze was your anchor, the center of your every motion. There was no reason to look away, especially when the twinkling green and white lights reflected so well in them. You'd never felt the warmth of Chan's hand against your waist either, the way he softly pulled you closer to his chest after you strayed too far from a twirl. It was getting harder to convince yourself that your heart was just beating faster from the exertion of dancing to six songs in a row.

"Are you glad you came?" He asked in between songs, tilting his head and keeping you swaying even in the momentary silence, as if you'd run away from him otherwise.

What a time to ask that question. "Yeah," you breathed, giving a simple nod, "this is really fun."

"I was hoping you'd enjoy it," he replied. No teasing for once- you could tell by his tone how genuine he was being.

You felt his hand flex ever-so-slightly above your waist, the dancing effect sending your heart jumping. "Of course."

They'd snuck some Latin songs in before the night was over, and you were beyond frustrated upon your brief partner switch that Jihoon was no longer all that cute to you, even when he dipped you.

~

"Well, I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow."

"Whoa, whoa," Chan jogged to keep up with you, "oh no you don't, I'm walking you back."

"I know my way back to the dorms, Chan," you replied with a light laugh. The glittering spotlights had been once again replaced with almost eerie mystic purple ambiance, casting shadows on the concerned frown crossing Chan's defined features.

"Yeah, but it's dark. I'm getting you home safe."

There was that flutter again- he'd done that before, though, countless times. You'd walked between your buildings more times than you'd needed to keep record of. This was nothing new.

You relented anyway. "Alright, yeah, thanks. You're right."

"I know I am. Campus can be dangerous. You need someone to keep you safe."

"Oh, my knight in shining armor," you teased, giving his shoulder a little push and drinking in the smile you received in response. Why wasn't the dancing effect wearing off?

"Come on, let's go."

"The guys are still tearing down."

"Eh," Chan waved a hand, "They can fold a few tables without me. Right, guys?" He called a little bit louder.

Soonyoung gave him a thumbs-up. Junhui whooped, and the graceful guy you'd come to know as Minghao just remarked that no matter what they said he'd go anyway before cracking a mischievous smile.

"See? On we go."

Leaves drifted through the night air, carried in a dance of their own as cold air blew. Instinctively you wrapped your arms around your middle as you reminisced on the night's success.

"Here, you need this more than I do. Besides," Chan smirked as he removed his blazer again, "you liked it so much the first time."

You'd thought nothing of wearing his blazer the first time. Why did it make you so happy now? Maybe it was the way he draped it onto you himself, making you feel like a 1950s starlet or something. Maybe it was the way that as you took nearly-stinging breaths of cold air, still inhaling harder from exertion, you picked up that homey smell again, this time mixed with a skosh more dance sweat, but you didn't mind, knowing you had the same and Chan wouldn't judge you for it.

When you reached the door of your building, slowly drawing your key card from your wallet, you gave him his blazer back, hands dropping to your sides. "Well, thanks for everything. You guys really should have more parties. This was a lot of fun."

"Are you kidding? Thanks for coming! This was a success, so I'm sure we'll have an even bigger one next time!"

Your eyes didn't leave his. "That's the spirit."

"Always. Hey, well, good night."

"Good night," you breathed back as Chan pulled you into your customary goodbye hug.

You weren't sure if it was you, him, or just straight-up your imagination that held on a bit longer this time. When you separated, he kept a hand on your shoulder for just a second, leaning in a tiny bit and looking at you with those furrowed, scrutinizing brows, then just as quickly he pulled back away, scurrying off. You couldn't help feeling a very hard lightning bolt of disappointment zap you through the clouds of confusion.

"Guess I'd better go help. I'll see you tomorrow, though!" He ran off, waving like nothing different had happened.

You waved slowly, resisting the urge to lightly slap some sense into your head.

~

You were early to dance class that afternoon, feeling a strange anticipation of the whole event. You could tell as soon as you walked in, though, that you were going to have a hard time keeping your eyes off of Minkyung and how she got danced with, though.

That was the root of your anticipation. Ever since that dang party, that cursed blazer and the way Chan held you, it was like every muscle in your body ached to see him again. Despite all the time you'd gotten with him in the past year. It was like that had vanished completely, leaving a void more massive than you'd have ever guessed behind. Like even though you'd loved every minute of hanging out, you'd somehow took it all for granted.

"I'm surprised Chan hasn't come barreling in with your jacket yet," a voice commented at your side.

Turning around, you were met with Minghao.

"My jacket?"

He nodded. "Yeah, you left it behind at the party and Chan kept saying how he was going to have to remember to bring it back to you after letting you forget it. Seemed like he felt a little bad." That smile again. For all his calm, Minghao had a little streak of fire in him, it seemed.

And, if you remembered Junhui correctly, dirt on Chan. "Junhui said you know Chan pretty well, huh?"

That earned you a full-on grin. "Well, he's not my best friend or anything, but he opens up to me. Something you wanted to know?"

"No, Junhui just told me about you having something I could tease him about is all," you chuckled.

"Please don't." The slender dance major still sounded faintly amused, but something in his tone softened.

You frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Don't tease him about it, ok?"

"Wait, what are you talking about?"

"He really likes you, ok? So don't give him a hard time. You should know better than anyone he's more sensitive than he gives off."

"He what?" You didn't mean to raise your voice as much as he did, especially with the reverb in the mostly-empty dance practice room, but you could barely hear anything over the roar of your chest's somersaults.

"Oh, wait, Junhui didn't spill the beans?"

So that was why no one was Chan's type? Your jaw dropped, but before you could say anything, the door swung open, revealing the figure of your bleach-blonde friend stepping into the fluorescent light, casually dropping his backpack against the wall and waving brightly at you.

You, for your part, waved back, well aware that you were probably smiling like an idiot. The void in your chest filled so fast, it was like it barely existed in the first place.

~

After class, you guys grabbed your stuff, presumably to take your usual walk to the student union, but Chan stopped you. "You left your-"

"Jacket, yeah, I realized this morning."

"Yeah, sorry."

"Don't be," you chuckled, "I have more than one, you know."

"Yeah, but I like this one, so I wanted to make sure you had it. It's your old one. I didn't wash it, so it still has that (y/n) smell," he commented with a sheepish smile.

So you had a smell too. Something about that filled you with nearly as big a wave of confidence as Minghao's words, which had your chest soaring all through class and even Jihoon asking you why you were so giddy. You just told him you'd gotten good news. Either way, your heart pounded as you threw caution to the wind. No more taking anything for granted.

"That one's your favorite, huh? Tell you what," you quipped, stepping close enough to take the jacket out of Chan's hands and drape it over his shoulders, "you keep it then and I will steal your blazer."

"Why would I do that?" He asked, gulping at the way your hands smoothed the jacket over his chest.

"Call it something in the dance floor air," you said, giving him one last look in the eyes before your hands found your jacket's collar, tugging it forward until Chan fell into you, his lips meeting yours.

The moment you connected, Chan kissed back, hands wrapping around your waist far tighter than they had last night as yours slid up his chest and around his neck. You moved faster, then he did, and you both kept at it, challenging each other until you both needed air. As you pulled away, though, Chan caught the back of your head in his hand, pulling you back into him so your foreheads rested together.

"Man, if all it took was dancing with you, I'd have made Jihoon switch partners with me on day one."

"Minghao also may or may not have snitched on you."

"I'm going to fight him."

"But it was mostly the dancing."

"Charmed you, didn't I?"

"Something like that."

"What can I say," Chan commented, flicking forward just long enough to ghost his lips over yours, "I know you so well."

You smiled and shook your head, which fell onto his shoulder, bringing that homey smell up into your head with the fall breeze once more. For once, you didn't feel like sassing Chan back, your chest-void now overflowing with more serotonin than you knew what to do with. "That you do."

[toasty-melons]

Escaping Jackson

Ellie x reader

part 1 of ??

Part 2 :) || Part 3 :)

After Ellie and Joel officially move into Jackson, Maria gives you the job of being Ellie’s partner on patrols. While Ellie is adjusting into Jackson, you’re planning on escaping it.

< Ellie’s not mean, she’s just awkward :/ >

ALSO: i think i got my requests to work?? so you guys can request now (i hope)

TW: uhh cursing

i did not proofread <3

You pull your jacket around yourself tighter, trying to keep out the cold. It was almost mid-winter in Jackson, and you couldn't wait for it to be over already. Your shoes feel heavier with each step you take. Tugging on the backpack secured tightly to yourself, you quietly mumble an, 'almost there,' under your breath for encouragement to keep going. You look up to see your destination only a few more feet ahead.

Once you make it to the front door, you pull your hand out of your jacket pocket and knock on the door. While glancing around the front porch, you quickly stuff your hand back into your warm jacket. After a minute or two the door swings open to reveal a tall, older man. His dark brown hair and beard is littered with gray hairs that suit him rather well. He's wearing a flannel and some jeans. He clears his throat after looking at you for a moment and coming to the conclusion that he does not know who you are.

"Can I help you with something?" His voice is deep and gruff. He gives off the vibes that he would rather be doing anything else than speaking with you. Scary. You mentally shake it off and give him a soft smile.

"You must be Mr. Miller.. Joel? Um, anyways. Is.. Ellie here?" You lean slightly to the side to give yourself a better look inside behind Joel. You don't see her back there.

"Ellie? Yeah she's here.. I'll go grab her. Come on in, it's freezing out there." You take his kind offer, quickly making your way inside the door. You don't want to intrude, so you don't venture much further than a couple steps inside. You can already feel yourself starting to warm back up. Joel makes his way to what you're guessing is the living room, he yells her name. You flinch slightly at the sudden change of volume. A woman's voice, you're assuming is the girl you're looking for, yells back a, 'what?'

Joel walks further around the corner until he’s out of site. Whatever he's saying to her, you can't hear, so instead you take a glance around. It's pretty empty and dull. Boring. You didn't expect much from them, since they're pretty new here, but maybe a little something would be nice.

You hear footsteps coming your way and as you turn your head back around you have to look up slightly to meet her eyes. She has green eyes and freckles across her face. Her brown hair is on the shorter side, and is partly pulled back. Wow. She's pretty.. and intimidating. This has to be Ellie. Maria didn't lie when she described her, she is ‘pretty intimidating’ just by her looks.

"You must be Ellie? We're supposed to patrol together today. Maria told me where to find you." She looks you up and down and then turns around, walking back towards the room she came from. You furrow your brows at her actions. No, ‘hi how are you?’ Or a ‘cool, nice to meet you.’ Maybe she’s just shy? Or just plain rude? Don’t jump to conclusions. Be nice.

"I thought you would be taller." She mumbled it and you're not sure if you supposed to hear, but you did. Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open. You scoff and out of the corner of your eye, you see Joel shaking his head and walking away further into the house and then out of site again. After a few moments, Ellie comes back with a backpack now hanging off her shoulders. You close your mouth and turn to make your way towards the front door. Maria didn't lie about Ellie's smart mouth either.

You don’t stop to wait on her to close the door or to catch up with you. But you know that she did, you can feel her following close behind you. After taking a deep breath and calming your nerves you glance back at her. You meet her eyes and feel your stomach drop. God she's intimating. Why did Maria ask you to do this? You break eye contact first.

"So.. Ellie.." you hear her hum softly in acknowledgment. "What brings you guys here? Like.. to Jackson?" At first you’re met with silence and you feel your cheeks start grow red in embarrassment. Oh shit. Were you not supposed to ask or something?-

"Joel is Tommy’s brother." You stop suddenly and whip your head around to face her. She almost slams right into you. "What the-.."

"Like married to Maria Tommy? Your dad is that Tommy's brother?" So she’s in the inner circle. No wonder they got in so easily. Ellie pauses and looks away, choosing to walk around you. You watch her for a few moments and then slightly jog to catch up with her.

"Yes.. and Joel is not my dad." You both had finally made it outside the walls of Jackson. Starting your journey along the snow covered route.

"Then why are you with him?" She won’t look at you. Maybe you shouldn’t ask?

"Because.." Definitely shouldn’t have asked.

“Oh…" At this point you were now following her.

"So.. you know the route?" You walk a bit faster to be able to walk beside her instead.

"I got the idea of it. Maria explained it to me yesterday." You nod and watch your feet as you walk. You can feel her eyes on you, but you refuse to meet them, choosing to play dumb. A couple of minutes go by without the two of you saying a word. You grab the straps of your backpack and fiddle with them, a nervous habit of yours.

“So you any good with that thing or do you just carry it around for show?” You look over at her, eyebrows furrowed and confusion written all over your face. She motions her head towards your backpack. “Your bow.”

Your mouth forms into and o-shape and you nod softly, “Yeah.. I would say i’m pretty good.” Ellie grins and gives you a soft scoff. “What?” She shakes her head and shrugs.

“Nothing.. you’re just.. odd.” Rude. You furrow your brows for what feels like the hundredth time today. You slow down a good bit before you finally stop walking. She turns to look back at you before stopping completely as well.

“What’s you’re problem?” She almost looks stunned at your question. You don’t know why, she was the one being rude.

“Geez.. sor-ry.” She doesn’t sound sorry. You shake your head and bump into her shoulder while walking past her, mumbling a ‘fucking ridiculous’ and a ‘cant wait to go home’ under your breath.

Thankfully the rest of the patrol had gone peacefully and without any problems.. or comments from Ellie. When you make it back safely inside the walls of Jackson, you march your way straight to Maria. Leaving Ellie to do whatever it is that she does. Knowing exactly where to find her at this time of the day you slam the door to the Tipsy Bison open and make your way over to her.

“Hey. How did Ellie do on patrol-“ You hold up a hand to stop her from talking.

“I’m not going on patrol with her again. Or doing anything with her.. ever.” Maria chuckles and crosses her arms over her chest while looking over at Tommy, who you just noticed standing there.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?” You give her an exasperated noise rather than using your words. She shakes her head and shrugs slowly while taking a deep breath. “Well.. there’s not much I can do about that.. For right now, you’re the best I got to watch her on patrol.” You copy her stance and cross your arms over your chest, a frown tugging at your lips. “Don’t give me that look. Just suck it up and deal with it. Just for a little while, okay?” She gives you one of her looks. The one that no one can say no to. Dammit.

You slowly uncross your arms but the frown is still prominent on your face. You look over at Tommy and instantly know he’ll be of no help. Huffing, you roll your head to the side and sigh out a ‘..fine..’ Maria nods and places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it firmly.

“She’s needs some friends. Other than Joel, she’s all alone.” Your face softens a bit and you can feel your heart sink a bit. “You’re more alike than you think. Just give her another chance.” You look away and shrug her hand off your shoulder.

“I already said fine.” You turn around and as you go to leave Tommy speaks up.

“She’s a good kid… and so are you.” You stop. You don’t face him. You don’t face Maria either. You feel your face start to heat up, you’re fingers twitch. You’re angry. You didn’t choose to be here. In fact, you don’t even want to be here. You’re stuck here. Forever. Maybe.

You don’t say anything as you leave. You just go straight home. Home. No. It’s just the place you stay at.. for now. Unlocking the front door to the small house, you immediately drop your backpack onto the floor. You slowly make your way to the shower. You have to get to bed soon because you have another patrol with Ellie. Ellie. Just a few more weeks. Then you can finally get the hell out of this place.

Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.

[cootiekat]

Babysitter ♡

warnings: none :)

genre: fluff

pairing: dad! eddie x fem! babysitter! reader

summary: You start babysitting for your coworker,Eddie, but will it turn into more?

a/n: This is my first fanfic I have ever written AND my first time writing in tumblr so bare with me please 😭😭 REQUESTS OPEN!!!🫶🫶🫶

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October 20, 1989

It all started with a text from your coworker, Eddie, asking if you could babysit his daughter. Of course you said yes, you didn’t have any plans for tonight. You got dressed in a sweater and jeans and headed out. Before stopping at Eddie’s you went to the grocery store for some snacks so you could be remembered as the “cool” babysitter and made a stop at Family Video to pick up the new movie The Little Mermaid.

When you got to Eddie’s trailer you noticed his van was already started so he probably was going to be leaving very soon. The door was already open so you just walked in.

“Eddie!” you called out. You admired all of the mugs on the walls and the living room that looked messy and cozy at the same time. You saw the little dining table for two in the corner and the small kitchenette, just down the hall you saw a bedroom covered in band posters and reeked of weed. Assuming the room was Eddie’s you walked in.

“Hey Eddie” you repeated now that you were in close quarters with him.

“Y/N HI! i’m so glad you made it on time.”

Eddie was dressed up in his normal attire except he was wearing a T-shirt that said Corroded Coffin on it with a black leather jacket on top. You’d be lying if you said Eddie didn’t look extremely good right now.

“Let me introduce you to Maggie”

Eddie led you down the hallway to a bedroom that was covered in princesses, unicorns, and all things girly. Maggie was sitting on the floor with her Barbies brushing their hair and dressing them up. Maggie was no doubt Eddie’s daughter they both sported long curly brown hair and big brown puppy eyes.

“Maggie, can you say hi to Y/N? She will be watching you tonight while Daddy is out.”

Maggie gave you a little wave and immediately curled into her fathers arms. Eddie was in complete awe and wrapped is arms around his daughter and gave her a tight hug. “How old are you, Maggie?” you asked softly. She held up three fingers with her hand, you couldn’t help but smile at her cuteness.

“Daddy is leaving now, but Y/n is going to take really good care of you.”

“Yep, I brought snacks and a movie. Have you ever seen The Little Mermaid?” you questioned. Maggie shook her head and looked up at her Dad to respond for her.

“I’ve been meaning to take her to Family Movie to rent it, she’s been begging to see it since it came out”

Eddie and you walked out of Maggie’s room leaving her to play with her dolls until she was done. Eddie was fidgeting when he spoke up.

“I had her right out of high school and i’ve never left her with anyone alone other than my uncle, so i’m a little nervous.”

“You have no need to be nervous, I babysat since I was in middle school for pocket change and worked at a daycare for a little bit in high school. This is definitely not my first rodeo.” you reassured him. You saw the weight come off Eddie’s shoulders.

“Sorry for the late notice.”

You waved him off and called Maggie to the front door. Maggie walked in very timidly. You knew it was going to take a minute for her to warm up to you.

“bye-bye, Daddy”

Eddie waves goodbye to his daughter and you and heads to his van. Maggie looks at you then grabs your hand and leads you back into her bedroom.

“This is Chelsea, I’m going to play with her because i’m little. You can be barbie cause you’re pretty.”

You thank her for her kindness and play barbie’s with her for about and hour until you hear her stomach growl. “Are you hungry?”

“a little bit, but I want to keep playing”

“you should never ignore your body when it tells you you’re hungry. We can come back and play after we eat if you would like?” Maggie agrees with you and puts her toys back into the play box and makes her way to the kitchen. You look around the kitchen to see what you can make. Yep. There definitely is not a woman living in this house because all that is in here is milk, spaghettios, mac n cheese, and leftovers from Dennys.

You begin boiling water for Mac n cheese when you notice Maggie sitting on the couch watching a black screen. “Would you like me to put in a movie while dinner is cooking?” Maggie bounces up and down and nods her head. You smile at her innocence and turn on the TV. You put in The Little Mermaid and go back to the kitchen to finish dinner. You find a small pink bowl and spoon and hand Maggie her Mac n cheese.

“yummy”

You sit with Maggie when you realize she is starting to fall asleep. “let’s go get you ready for bed.” you tell her while picking her up and taking her to the bathroom. You brush and braid her hair, wash her face, brush her teeth, and get her changed into pajamas.

“I want to finish the movie.”

You carry her back into the living room and finish the movie. Before the movie was even done Maggie was knocked out, so you decided to clean up the house a little. You dusted the fans, wiped counters, cleaned dishes, folded laundry, cleaned Maggie’s room, and cleaned the bathroom. All of the cleaning wore you out so you went back into the living room and cuddled with Maggie and fell asleep to the sound of the rain outside.

The sound of Eddie’s van woke you up. You watch Eddie trying to be quiet thinking you are both asleep. You start to stand up to grab your things when Eddie stops you.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to leave?”

“You should just stay here for the night.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s twelve in the morning and it’s pouring outside”

You hesitated for a moment, you were not prepared for spending the night, so you don’t have any extra clothes, a toothbrush, and you have a very strict skincare regimen you cannot skip. Eddie noticed you’re hesitation.

“I would never force you to stay if you would rather go home, but can you at least stay here until the rain calms down”

You decided to stay because you were terrified of driving in the rain and if Eddie was okay with you staying for the night then might as well.

“okay, i’ll stay. Do you have any extra clothes I can borrow?”

Eddie heads to his room to get you an oversized T-shirt and some loose pajama pants and hands them to you.

“You can get changed for bed in the bathroom, I’m going to put Maggie in her room.”

You headed to the bathroom to change looking at yourself in the mirror and washing all of your makeup off. You headed out to the living room and notice Eddie making up the couch. “Thank you, but I could’ve done that” you tell him not wanting to be too much of a burden.

“Y/n you already cleaned up the whole house the least I could do was make my own bed.”

“Your bed?”

“Yeah, i’m going to sleep out here you can take my room.”

“I can’t do that, you’re already letting me stay, I can’t take your room too.”

“If my uncle ever found out I let a beautiful woman sleep on this old couch while I slept comfortably in my bed he would flip.”

You silently thanked Eddie for the change of clothes and for letting you stay in his room for the night. You walked into Eddie’s room and layer in his bed and admired all of the art on his walls his guitar he used to play in high school. You wondered if he still played, you quickly fell asleep in his soft and warm bed.

A boom of thunder rang through the trailer and you shot up in the bed startled. You were so terrified of the storm you could not bring yourself to go back to bed. You got out of bed and slowly walked trying not to make the floor creek. You finally made your way to the kitchen and read the clock on the wall 3:30am. You slowly opened the fridge and took out the milk and grabbed a cup out of the cabinet and quietly poured the milk into the cup. Just as you were about to put the glass into the microwave you heard Eddie’s groggy voice.

“can’t sleep?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you”

“Sweetheart, I’ve been up, don’t worry you didn’t wake me”

“so, you saw me creep into the kitchen?”

“yup.”

You began your walk of shame back into Eddie’s room when you heard him ask.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

“sure”

“I don’t have many, but I have a couple I rented from Family Video and never returned.”

You chuckled at his statement and begin looking through his collection of VHS tapes. Most of the movies were Maggie’s and they’re were a couple of horror and slasher movies, but what caught your eye was a cute romcom you would’ve never imagined Eddie to have. “When Harry Met Sally?” you questioned as you held up the tape.

“Hey, it was on the new release shelf, i didn’t pick it on purpose!”

“yeah right”

“I SWEAR! i’ve never seen that movie before.”

“You sound mighty defensive right now, Edward” you say to him in a disbelieving tone as you slide the tape into the VCR. You went to press play when you notice the movie was already halfway through. You glanced at Eddie who looked defeated. “It’s okay to admit you like romcoms, Eddie. I still think you’re a hardcore badass.”

“You think i’m a hardcore badass?”

“of course I do”

You rewind and start the movie and sit down next to Eddie on the couch. If you were being honest this was the most comfortable you’ve ever felt in your entire life. Eddie wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close to his side. Your whole body stiffened at the sweet side of Eddie. Eddie must’ve noticed because he whispered in your ear.

“Calm down, Princess. I wont bite unless you ask me too.”

Your whole face was red and hot at this point. You and Eddie stayed like this until the end of the movie when Eddie said.

“Love like this doesn’t exist in real life.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, if it did I wouldn’t be 24 raising a 3 year old by myself.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right woman yet.”

Eddie looked down into your eyes and said.

“Tell me, Princess. Have you met the right man yet.”

You shrugged. “I mean no one has ever showed me love like this.” you said as you pointed to the screen. The end credits finally rolled and Eddie looked at you and said.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah”

“You’re the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen, since the day you walked into Tape World I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Edward Munson, you better not be playing with my emotions right now.”

“ I promise you y/n, I’ve never been more serious in my entire life. I want to get to know you on that deep ooey gooey personal level. I want to know all your strengths and weaknesses. I want to know what you’re favorite food, holiday, and movie is. I want to be the person you come to when nobody else can help. Y/n I want to be the right man for you.”

You could not believe what Eddie just said. You were out of words all you thought of was smashing your lips onto his, so that’s exactly what you did. You felt his plump lips connecting with yours in the perfect way. You cupped his face in your hands and felt the stubble that decorated his jaw. When you finally pulled away you said.

“ I want to be the right woman for you too, Eddie.”

[quinntell]

Q!fit design 

Ok so I haven’t been able to dray him yet so I’m just gonna describe the bitch

Physical appearance 

Ok so he has a lot of scars a good amount of them of them are old and gnarled due to most of them being from 2b2t and only a couple of them are fresh. one of my many Minecraft hc’s is that the players only keep the scars if they are the cause of death and since he hasn’t died on the QSMP much he doesn’t have a lot of new scars 

One of his bigger scars is from a explosion incident and the scar is on his left side(right if we drawing it) and it is on his head and ripped up some parts of his mechanical arm 

Fitmc is a crocodile hybrid. I was given this idea by someone on here can holy shit I can’t get it out of my head. He has a crocodile scales on his back and sholders closer to the spine and some scales on his head and on his arms

I like to think he has funky eyes, like they are just cool looking (might change them into more crocodile-esk eyes but for now they cloudy and hazel)

(Ignore how the hands are switched and I also don’t have the energy to try and make it look like crocodile skin)

Clothes

Quesadilla island is supposed to be a tropical resort island so I am assuming it’s hot, and so fit is wearing a take top. But he had to make it himself out of an old t-shirt that he used to wear under his normal jacket (i hc that 2b2t is cold despite the lava everywhere) ma he ripped the sleeve off the shirt making it into a tank top 

He wears his signature bandanna (mainly to match Ramon) but it has several stains on it (dust, dirt, oil, blood)

His pants are just some raggedy ass baggy jeans BUT he ha sewn his own extra pockets into them to where they are these weird cargo jeans and like the bandanna they have many stains on them

so I drew him with an eyepatch and at first it was just an excuse for me to not draw the other eye but…what if the eyepatch is fake and it’s actually a tech thing and that’s how he can take screenshots and such 

He also has a brown satchel that has many patches on it, there are pins but the line the inside because they might get in the way and get caught on stuff and he can’t afford that

And that is all! (for now)

[theelizamanelli]

Chapter Two Word count: 3,256 Rating: 18+, mature content, sensitive topics Link to Chapter One

—————————————————————————————————

Five years ago...

—————————————————————————————————

The sound of the phone ringing wakes me from a dead sleep, my hand slaps the comforter repeatedly until it finally settles on a rectangle shape. 

“Hello?” I mumble into the speaker.

“Elsie, you’re going to have to come pick him up.” The familiar voice of Brenda, the bartender at the Loose Caboose, fills my ear as I sigh. 

“How bad is it this time?” I sit up, flicking the hair out of my eyes and pulling the covers back. 

“Two drinks away from another Christmas Eve 2003,” The sound of glass shattering echoes in the background, “Put that down, Jim!” 

“I’m on my way,” I hang up the phone and pull myself out of bed. I glance at the clock on my bedside table: 0116. I groan before snatching up the denim jeans and loose tank top from the ground. I slide them on quickly before tip toe-ing down the hall.

I push open Lettie’s door just enough to see her sprawled on her unicorn comforter, mouth wide open and hair in her face. I smile before closing the door fully and head down the stairs. 

It’s a cool April evening, the fading of Spring and beginning of Summer sit pretty on the wind. Not wanting to leave my car at the bar I opt to walk; it’s a small town and the place isn’t too far. 

This isn’t the first time I’ve been called in the middle of the night to pick Dad off the curb and I know it won’t be the last.

A shiver runs down my body as the wind whips around my hair and up my back. I forgot my jacket on the bench and hug myself for warmth. 

The crunch of gravel sneaks up behind me as I hear a truck roll to a stop. I shut my eyes tight and swallow, hoping this isn’t a lecherous man with a thing for redheads.

“Need a ride?” the familiar voice of Mr. Miller rings out as he leans out the driver’s side of the window, stone-faced. 

I turn towards the sound and wave him off, “Nah, I’m good, Mr. Miller! Thanks, though!” I feign a smile before picking up the pace. 

He glances quickly at my tank top and arms hugged around my body before pulling the truck up further, angling it to block my path. 

“Let me rephrase that,” He grits out before putting the vehicle in park and leaning across the cab to push the passenger door open. “Get in.” 

His eyes stare forward, not appearing to budge and definitely not in the mood to be argued with. I sigh before making my way behind the truck and to the open door. I climb into the seat and close it behind me.

I glance over at him, his jeans are weathered and his boots are caked with mud. The blue t-shirt he’s wearing has a slight dampness to it as if he had been working outside. From the weariness in his forehead lines to the tightness of his shoulders, I assume he hasn’t made it home from work yet. 

He begins to drive towards the exit of the neighborhood as I say, “The Loose Caboose.” Not wanting him to ask questions, I angle my body towards the window but I don’t miss his fingers tightening around the wheel.

The drive is short yet no less awkward. My knee bounces erratically, an outlet for the brewing anxiety threatening to spill over.

I have done a decent job at hiding Dad’s issues with alcohol, the only ones that have a clue are the frequent flyers of the Loose Caboose and the staff that deal with him on a regular basis. 

For a small town they’ve been surprisingly quiet about the scenes he has caused, I’ve chalked it up to the sinners not wanting to be judged themselves; hypocrisy and all that.

As we pull up to the bar, I can see my Dad swaying in a seated position on the curb with a bottle of Bud Light on one side and his truck on the opposite. His head lulling down towards his chest, I roll my eyes and mutter under my breath, “Classic.”

Mr. Miller parks the truck two spots away from him and I open the door before he’s fully shifted, “Thanks, don’t wait up!” I yell, scurrying out and away from his glare.

I can hear the faint sound of snoring as I reach to rifle the keys from the back pocket of Dad’s jeans.

I jog a little to the truck and hop in, turning over the engine and leaving it to idle. I can feel Mr. Miller’s eyes tracking my movements as I hurry back towards the curb. 

I sigh and pray that he doesn't make a scene this time, that he gets to the truck without putting up a fight.

"Dad, it's time to go home," I say quietly, rustling his jacket. His eyes flutter slightly and he groans. 

I try again, this time with a little more force “Dad, it’s Elsie. Let’s go home, please.”

A mistake.

"Don’t touch me!" He slurs and pushes me off him with a rough shove. I feel myself tumbling backwards, tripping over the bumper. 

I know I’m going to hit the concrete so I brace myself but the impact never comes. My back hits something solid and soft instead. 

The smell of his cologne fills my nose as Mr. Miller steadies my body with his hands. He squeezes both of my arms in a comforting gesture but his eyes never meet mine, he is zeroed in on Dad. 

In a second he's at him, grabbing him by the jacket and forcing him up with brute strength.

"Mr. Miller, it's fine, I got him!" I yell and take a step forward.

He doesn't listen, he drags him to the truck and throws him into the passenger seat.

"What the f-" Dad groans as he hits the seat hard.

His face gets close and I can hear the threat in his voice.

"If you ever touch her like that again, I'll kill you." He slams the door.

He doesn't look at me as he gets back into his truck. 

I brush myself off and slide into the driver's seat. Putting the vehicle in drive, I make my way home. 

Dad doesn't make a fuss getting into the house and as I close the front door I watch Mr. Miller’s truck idle past.

——————————————————————————————————

Present Day

——————————————————————————————————

Coffee in hand, hair tousled, and my oversized hoodie threatening to swallow me whole if not to allow me a few milliseconds of sleep while standing. That is how I find myself at 0608 on Joel Miller’s front porch. 

I haven’t found the nerve to knock on the door, my eyes are barely open enough to register where the frame is in relation to where I am standing.

I sigh and reach my knuckles toward the door when it swings open, my fist meeting air and then a firm mass. 

“Good morning,” Joel mutters as he grabs my hand and lightly tosses it back towards me, as if it’s merely an annoying bug.

“Mm,” I grunt at him as I slip past into the living room and take a sip of my coffee.

“A delight, as always, Elsie Mae.” he says, an edge of a smirk to his tone. 

“I’m not exactly a morning person on my days off,” I survey the living room, it’s relatively put together. A few plates on the coffee table holding the remains of a pizza. The TV humming as the ESPN announcers talk about the latest sports highlights. 

“Noted.” He turns towards me, closing the door behind him. 

“How can I be of service to you, Mr. Miller?” I ask, striding into the kitchen and sitting down at the table. 

“You’re smart, right?” He walks to the fridge and pulls out a carton of orange juice. He takes a long gulp as I stare, contemplating what he asked.

“Depends who's asking, I guess,” I respond quizzically, setting my coffee down on the table. 

“Me. I’m asking.” He puts the carton back in the fridge before stepping to the table, pulling out one of the chairs and sitting down, “You just graduated, right? Top of your class as far as your Dad tells me.” 

The last few words tug at my heart and I pull back for a second, reeling. I can’t remember the last time I shared anything about college with Dad, or really anything at all.

“Yes, I did.” I say with a hint of hesitation, this wasn’t on my bingo card for topics of conversation.

“Tutor me.” He says, leaning back in his chair as he eyes study mine. Waiting expectantly for my answer.

“What?” I blurt out with a breathy laugh, “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I rarely kid.” He responds with a serious tone, his face unreadable.

I scrunch my nose and narrow my eyes, studying his body language and waiting for him to yell “Sike! Just kidding!”

When that doesn’t happen, my smile drops, “You’re being serious.”

He nods solemnly but doesn’t say a word. 

“Tutoring in what? Surely there’s nothing that I know that you need to learn.” I say, waving him off and lifting my cup back to my lips.

“I want to take the GED,” he says, leaning forward to brace his arms on his thighs. “I never graduated high school, too much of a little shit for all that.”

“So you picked me to help you?” I stare at him with an incredulous expression. “Surely you had better options.”

“You’re selling yourself short, Red,” his eyes soften for a second as he says, “You’re the smartest woman I know.”

——————————————————————————————————

That one compliment is how I find myself at the library on a Saturday morning with Joel Miller. Blinded by the stroke of my ego, I have been picking out GED practice books and putting them in his arms for the past fifteen minutes. 

“And you’ll need this one.” I mull over another section, crouching down to peer at another book. “Oh, and this one.” I place two more books on his pile. 

He stands behind me, not a hint of irritation or aggravation on his face. Simply holding the texts and following me around like a diligent servant. 

His eyes convey at minimum indifference and at maximum feigned interest as I talk about why one book would be the ideal option for studying versus another for practice tests.

“Isn’t this enough, Elsie? Am I getting my PhD or somethin’?” He asks incredulously as he stares at the looming tower of books. 

My head swivels and pierce him with a look that says “Do you want my help or not?”.

“You’re right, one or two more books couldn’t hurt,” he states with a sigh. 

“That’s what I thought.” I mutter underneath my breath as I crouch down for the fifth time to read the side of a GED for Dummies book. 

“Joel Miller, is that you?” A booming voice says from behind, growing louder as he nears us. 

“I don’t think I have ever seen you in the library, let alone holding a book.” He laughs as he claps him on the back and gestures to the growing pile in his arms. 

I stand back up and turn towards him, he’s an older white man in his late forties or early fifties. His hair scattered with black and pepper, the tell tale sign of an aging man that only seems to accentuate his overall looks. 

There are crinkle lines around his eyes and mouth that indicate he’s the jolly type. I turn to look at Joel and notice that he is as pale as I have ever seen the normally tan man. He has yet to say anything to the guy, his mouth slightly agape. 

The man meets my eyes and sticks his hand out, “Jared. Nice to meet you, young lady.”

“Elsie. Nice to meet you, too.” He has a firm handshake and I smile at him before returning my gaze to Joel. 

“Yeah, yeah, Jared, this is Elsie. We were just looking around the library. About to leave, though. Nice to see you.” He says in a rush before turning slowly towards the exit.

“Uh, we still have to check those books out.” I say with a smirk, I swallow the giggle that threatens to sneak out of my throat when Mr. Miller’s eyes burn into mine.

“Geez, I’ve never seen you so frazzled, Joel. Scared to introduce me to your little girlfriend?” He laughs and jabs Joel in the side. 

I smile politely before stating, “Oh, no, I’m not h-” before the words can leave my mouth Mr. Miller interrupts me.

“No, she’s just got a lot of studying to do, ya know?” He gestures to the books in his arm and nods his head towards the check out. “Got to get her back.”

“Well, don’t keep her all to yourself. Bring the pretty thing around sometime!” He winks at me as he says, “Take good care of him, Elsie, he’s a pain in the ass but he can be decent…sometimes.”

He walks away with another burst of laughter before I have the chance to correct him or even get a word out.

Mr. Miller doesn’t look in my direction as he walks towards the checkout and presents the library card I made him get forty five minutes ago.

I trail behind him as we make our way to the truck, sitting in silence for the ten minute drive home before re-entering his kitchen. He sets the books down on the table, careful to avoid my gaze like a teenager trying to evade an earful from his Mama.

I place my palms face down on the table, ducking my head down at an angle to catch his eye.

“She’s just got a lot of studying to do, huh, Mr. Miller?” I say, venom dripping from my words.

He clears his throat before responding, “You should probably start calling me Joel.”

——————————————————————————————————

“Alright, then, Joel. Care to explain what I signed up for here? I could have sworn it was to be your tutor, not your girl,” I take my palms off the table and stand up straight. 

“Yeah, that wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.” He scratches the back of his head and meets my eyes. “Listen, Elsie. You have to understand. It’s embarrassing, ya know? Taking the GED, admitting I need help just to pass the damn thing.” 

He sits down at the table in a tired heap before continuing, “Jared is one of those guys who loves to talk just to hear his own voice. I’d rather him think I have a pretty young girlfriend than know I never even graduated fucking high school.”

A hint of pink splotches my neck at the compliment, I shake my head and respond, “How about you tell a girl first before you go around saying we’re going steady? It’d be nice to get a heads up so I don’t look like an asshole.”

He chuckles for a second with a look of relief on his face, “Yeah, I’m sorry, Red.” 

“Who was he, anyway?” I ask, crossing my arms to convey that this isn’t necessarily over.

“One of the construction management guys at that big company in San Antonio. He has a home nearby and comes to a lot of the job sites Tommy and I help out at,” he says, his shoulders relaxing. “Honestly, he’s kind of a perv. I’d prefer it if you stayed away from him.”

I point at one of the books at the top, “Start reading this and we’ll talk about all of this tomorrow.” I gesture at him in exasperation.

He nods his head and reaches for the book as I walk towards the door.

I place my hand on his shoulder for a second, “For what it’s worth, I could bet my month’s salary that guy isn’t half the man you are, Joel. Who cares what he thinks?” My fingers trail off the side of his t-shirt onto his bare skin, tingling at the contact.

——————————————————————————————————

The door at the top of the stairs creaks open slightly and I stop in place, holding my breath. 

“You’re looking good today, Jim,” a woman’s voice carries down the hallway. Footsteps follow the sound as if she’s pacing the room.

“You say that every day, Trisha. I’m starting to think you’re sweet on me.” says a gruff voice from the corner of the room. 

“You know you’re my favorite.” she laughs and the clink of a glass rings through the air.

“You say that to all your clients,” the male voice sounds amused but weak.

I let out my breath slowly, careful to not make noise, as I slide past the door. Through the crack I can see a pair of boots in the recliner and an older woman with tight blond curls spiking a bag of fluids.

I turn quickly and hustle the rest of the way to my room. I hurriedly close the door, resting the side of my face on the wood. 

I shake my head before turning, resting my back against the frame. 

It isn’t lost on me that Dad preserved my childhood bedroom in perfect condition. The shelf over my computer desk full of participation trophies and mediocre medals from my sports days. The bulletin board littered with magazine posters and school flyers. The lime green duvet paired with brown sheets, a time capsule of the early 2000’s.

I walk slowly over to the dresser, crouching down to open the bottom drawer. Eighteen year old Elsie Mae had this compartment full of memorabilia collected over the years; a secret all of her own. 

The handle takes a little coaxing to open and when it does I let out a small laugh. There are movie stubs, old CD’s, my “Most Likely To Be Everyone’s Mom” certificate from senior year, and in the corner hidden underneath old notes is a light blue journal.

I pull it out and brush off the dust from the cover: “Elsie Mae’s Teenage Wiles”. I shake my head and sit down on the ground to open the journal.

August 27th, 2003

One day I’m going to leave this little town and make something for myself. There won’t be any more late night phone calls or needy little sisters. 

I’m going to look back and think of all that I’ve overcome to get here and be proud of little ole Elsie Mae.

Just wait and see.

EM

“You did a good job, kid.” I whisper as I stroke the writing with my index finger.

The remainder of the entries range from complaining about the workload at school to discussing the drama of Terence Junior Smith (TJ for short) and Haven Jones kissing in the bathroom during study hour.

I turn to the last page.

Elsie Mae’s To Do Before Eighteen

-Sneak out 

-Skinny dip

-Go roller skating

-Ride a motorcycle

-Throw a rager

-Rodeo

-Kiss in the rain

-Say yes to something that scares the shit out of me

My smile falters, seventeen year old Elsie Mae was so focused on everyone else she never got to be a teenager. In this moment I feel as though I failed her, I may have gotten to twenty two but was it all worth it? 

Have I been so preoccupied getting to the future that I forgot to live?

———————————————————————————————————————

Link to Chapter Three

[genderqueerdykes]

I saw your post about offering advice for trans folks and had a question! Any tips for dressing more masc while still having good style? So many of the tips I see lead to the most boring white bread styles. You look like the expert in Not doing that

masculine fashion is super fun, i am very flattered that you asked, so here are some tips

a lot of people i think assume that "masculine" means it needs to blend in and be bland, but if you take a look at a broader variety of men's clothing, you can see that there are a lot of very fun styles. it depends on where you live in the world and what you have access to of course, but i highly recommend checking out thrift stores if they are accessible to you because they will give you a good idea of a broad range of masculine styles to choose from

there are so many different styles and cuts of clothing. especially when it comes to men's jeans. men's shoes can also vary surprisingly wildly and and shoes can make a big different in an outfit. it's good to look and see what styles appeal to you

a lot of ppl gravitate toward very bland, plain button ups with maybe a simple necklace, or just a v neck or something, but i've found that there are loads of fun and even flamboyant styles when it comes to men's streetwear. you can find all kinds of modern fashions that prioritize bright funky colors.

keep in mind that "masculine" in the modern era generally refers to the cut of a particular garment. generally angular, square, straight lines, etc, no flare or flourish or much dangling cloth. clothes that prioritize a bulky chest and upper arms. no frills design, but the patterns and colors however you can absolutely go nuts with.

i think people often forget that scarves are a great accessory and men's scarves can slap super hard. big dress coats and trench coats are also genuinely very cool. overalls and coveralls are also very slept on and i think that's a shame.

you can do a lot with hats, i recommend seeing if a particular hat type calls out to you and see if you like it. a lot of dudes i know had 1 particular style of hat they'd wear all the time and idk sometimes you're just the hat guy LMAO i was when i was younger. no wait i still am

vests are absolutely delightful. i own several, you can find them premade or literally make your own out of an old jacket. vests can be very masculine and make an otherwise femme outfit have an edgier masc look instantly.

also consider that the wilder the pattern on something, the more it visually distracts from the shape of the body underneath, so it's worth trying out. useful tip in hiding one's chest.

those are some random tips but i hope that was somewhat helpful. thank you so much

[ryttu3k]

Queen Rock Montreal at IMAX? Queen Rock Montreal at IMAX!! Some assorted thoughts:

Some parts were definitely 'yes, this was recorded in 1981', but most, damn, held up very well.

Their energy was I n s a n e. Freddie's sheer charisma and ability to hold an audience more than thirty years after his death is just... yeah, he's a legend. Also Roger was going all out, I'm legit surprised he didn't snap a drumstick.

Loved the staging! There were a couple of moments where they went nuts with solos (including Roger doing a surprisingly melodic solo on timpani) and lighting and just... goddamn cool as hell.

Love Deacy just looking at everyone else in black and white with a few pops of primary colours and going. Actually. I'm going head to toe blue.

Relatedly, Brian May I am coming for your wardrobe.

The Red Special is one of the most distinctive-sounding guitars on the planet, isn't it?

Very amused at how Freddie ended up wearing less and less as the concert went on. Starts with white jeans, Superman tank top, leather jacket, wristband, sneakers. Two songs later, jacket is gone. Two songs after that, tank top is gone. Eventually ends up in white booty shorts, white cap, red scarf, and red wristband. Then the cap goes. Then the scarf goes... Was starting to get concerned for the kids in the audience!

Listen I am asexual and primarily aesthetically attracted to feminine and androgynous people but turns out even I am Not Immune To Freddie Mercury. I can only assume anyone there actually attracted to masc people walked out pregnant. That is charisma.

One minor sour point, would have loved the audience to have got more into it. Sing along! Clap! This is the closest thing we have to seeing Queen at their height! Live a little!

In conclusion, Freddie's legs (see: booty shorts) have given me gender envy.

[cosmic-m-b]

Hey. It’s been a while.

I’m back because I wanted a low stakes place to talk about gender. Too many people I know IRL are on my other platforms, so I came here.

I have been using the label, “nonbinary” for about 2 years? Maybe a little longer? And this year I finally understood that gender =/= presentation (as it applies to myself—I have known this about others for a while). I present fairly femininely, and even prefer to look feminine over looking androgynous or masculine, so I tied that into how I felt about gender, even though on the inside I feel fairly genderless. This summer I had that epiphany and started using they/she pronouns. I will likely go full send into they/them at some point because it does appeal to me, but for now while I’m still learning to reconcile my appearance with my gender, they/she works perfectly for me.

It has recently come to my attention, however, that I am a little uncomfortable with my name. I wouldn’t say it’s dysphoria (if after I describe my feelings someone tells me that it is, I will believe them), but it is discomfort.

I never had a problem with my name growing up. I don’t know if I ever really liked it, but I was used to it and it was mine. However, since figuring out a little more about my gender (which has and will likely continue to evolve), I am uncomfortable with such a feminine name. And I think that’s mainly because once someone hears it, whether in full-length form or my nickname, they immediately assume she/her pronouns. Most of the time, unless I’m wearing clothes with rainbows, I am not visibly queer. My fashion sense most days resembles that of a teenage boy, but in the most basic way. (T-shirts, jeans, and vans or converse) I don’t bind my chest, so I have a very feminine shape regardless of what I wear. (I do have a denim jacket with a pronoun patch on the sleeve, but I don’t really feel like that is enough.)

So anyway, I’m trying to come up with a new name for myself. I don’t know if I will ever go through the process of changing it legally, but I want something new to call myself that will better reflect how I want to be perceived.

I want to keep my initials as they are, in part because I’m a huge nerd and they fit my niche interests, but also because they feel like a big part of me, so I’m thinking about taking the name, “Corvus Mars,” and going by “Crow.”

In theory this is a fairly gender-neutral name. (Mars is arguably masculine but it just sounds so cool that I can’t let it go just yet.) My brain keeps worrying that the name might be too masculine or that people won’t take it seriously. I know my mom won’t, at least at first. I literally can’t imagine her calling me anything other than my given name, but that’s mostly because I have had it for 29 years. I also worry about my siblings thinking it’s stupid. I know that they would use it, but I can’t help but worry about them rolling their eyes when I tell them.

I also worry that I’m not cool enough to pull off a gender neutral name. It is yet another thing that I’m not “allowed” to do. (My brain has weird specific rules based on literally nothing. For example, I also wasn’t, “allowed” to identify as nonbinary or convert to Judaism. I obviously got over both of those.)

Anyway, if anyone wants to send some words of encouragement, it would be appreciated. I think most of my followers on here are bots now, but if any human soul is still around, feel free to comment.