#the time is so awful that it can never be possible

[littlemissclandestine]

ASK: ahhh i’m obsessed w ur adler headcanons!! pretty pretty plsss could we have more soft!adler headcanons? or maybe a few headcanons for how adler might react to realising he’s slowly falling for bell!reader before they discover the brainwash twist?? 🥺👉👈 either way just wanna express my appreciation for how you characterise him!! <3

Author's Note: Tehe back at it idk. This was an ask I got months ago but just had incredibly bad writer's and art block. Trying to get those creative juices flowing again! Thank you so much for the ask and the kind comments anon. I really really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy! <3 (your ask disappeared after i put it into Tumblr drafts??)

More Soft!Adler Headcanons:

In the morning before work, Russell wakes up a little earlier than you to spend some more time on his appearance. You see him shaving his few day old stubble and decide to help him out, taking the razor. He’d study your facial expression as you concentrate on going round each jagged edge of his scar, making sure to not cut him. His blue eyes tracing every little mark on your face, absolutely in awe of how beautiful you are even when you furrow your brows and he’d gently push a strand or two of hair out the way that had fallen over your eye. As you rinse the blade under the tap, he’d grab your chin and peck your lips, getting the taste of shaving foam in your mouth and you two would laugh about it.

I can imagine in Winter, Russell and his s/o ordering hot chocolate with some cream on top/coffee, walking and talking. When he notices your cream/foam moustache, he chuckles to himself but you pay it no mind, thinking it was his response to something you said. But he chuckles again and you question him. -> “Oh uh nothing. You just uh…got a little um...hold on.” He’d lean in and lick your lips before planting a kiss on them and leaning back to look at you with a smile, leaving you dumbfounded.

Witty jokes and comments that make you think how the hell did he come up with that one are definitely on the menu. Russell will sometimes randomly just burst into Russian or German mode and will try and teach you some words and jokes too. Mostly the swear words because everybody wants to know the swear words 

Adler and his fellow operatives were chatting one day in public with their gear on as they were on their way back to a hotel for the night before their early morning flight but the sight of kids running up to him caught his eye. They asked him questions, the usual ones, the story behind the scar and what he does for a living. At first, he wasn’t exactly the warmest towards them but when one of the kids begged him to pick them up, he grumbled and gave in, watching them just take his sunglasses and the other asking if they could touch the scar, earning a smile from him. Him an his group sat down and spent some time kicking a ball around and taking the time out for the children before they had to head back. Adler gave them all fistbumps and bent down to plant a cap on one of their heads with a wink and a side smile -> “Keep it. I don’t need it, kid.”

Slowly falling for Bell!Reader Headcanons: Part 1

Russell Adler didn’t think it was possible to be honest. Him falling for another person. Always thought of himself as a lone wolf after his divorce. Never took any interest in dates or anything because he simply didn’t have the time and partly due to a fear of being hurt again that he refused to acknowledge

Yet he found himself weirdly drawn to you. Maybe it was a sick and twisted fantasy of his, the visage of him being a human, cracking with every fleeting touch. The true monster in him seeping out, revealing his true colours

When he picked you up and out of the SUV in Trabzon, he felt nothing. Perhaps some sense of accomplishment as he was one step closer to locating the man he’d been chasing for 13 years but nothing more. As the initial interrogations continued in a secure location and your balaclava was yanked off by his own hands, a part of him knew he’d get attached when he saw you, in your rawest form  but he quickly pushed that thought away as fast as it appeared in his mind. But it’d creep up every now and then during the experimentation as he’d speak into the microphone and exhale the smoke through his nose as he stared at you through the glass, watching you carefully before dipping his head as he hears you let out a gut-wrenching scream and struggle in the chair, putting out his cigarette and calling it a day.

He’d catch a whiff of your perfume nearby to where he was working in the safehouse. The perfume on your wrists stayed behind on the desk after your leaned over to pass him something or rested your forearms on the desk. The subtle scent of your shampoo and body wash in the bathroom, lingering in the air. He’d inhale deeply and close his eyes, imagining you as his head resting on the back of his chair for a few moments before he stopped himself and his eyes snapped open, making sure nobody was nearby as if he was scared someone could read his thoughts.

A candle you’d left on for him as he worked late into the night once was never forgotten. Adler would relight it to remind himself of you when you were gone on a mission with the others, telling himself it’s just because it smells nice.

A Brick in the Wall: As Bell took photos of Kraus, Russell would glance over at her, watch you paying attention, adjusting the camera lens, sticking your tongue out as the camera shutter clicked and a small smile would creep onto his lips before he looked away and cleared his throat, giving you your next order. God, what was he thinking?

Some things however were just pure protective instinct. Like grabbing your forearm to pull you away from the railing as you stepped up onto to look over the edge of a balcony at night. He needed you alive for the mission of course, no other reason

 Or when he’d tuck his extra magazines into your ammo packs and make sure all your straps and harness were tight enough. Or even holding his arm out and across your chest when he had to hit the brakes hard while driving with a gentle you okay? after a few beats of silence

Or when he’d bought some food and you were out of it after an MK-Ultra session during the early days and he’d give you a little extra without a word to keep your strength up, looking into your eyes briefly as you cried but the guilt was creeping up on him and he’d leave before you sobbed. He’d close the door just as you burst into tears, his hand on the doorknob behind him and he’d sigh deeply, his eyes shut, trying to compose himself before walking off to find Park. They’re just a red. He’d remind himself constantly. But just a kid too…

Desperate Measures: As Belikov let the two of you in and you took out the guards and changed into their uniforms, he couldn’t help but sneak a few glances. Before you walked up the stairs, he stopped you and checked you over, head to toe, the expression on his face neutral but his mind was in overdrive. Russell took a step closer and his hands found the bottom of your skirt and tugged on it, pulling it down so it revealed less. A single nod and his lips a thin line before he turned and walked off. He refused to admit he didn’t want anyone looking at you the way he did.

He finds himself a little self conscious. This isn’t like him..since when was Russell motherfuckin’ Adler worried about the way he was perceived by a red of all people? Putting more aftershave on himself, a spray of cologne to mask the smell of cigarettes that had found its way into his clothing after years of the bad habit. A quick check in the mirror to adjust his outfit and hair before pushing the bridge of his sunglasses up and into place

Safe to say, you took him by surprise. He was of course impressed by your combat and cryptography skills as well as endurance during MK-Ultra, thinking it was such a shame you were on the wrong side. Began thinking of what-ifs…

After one particularly gruelling session, you were screaming and refusing to take the pills that Park was giving you to help you sleep, saying they made you want to vomit and the anti-sickness was not doing anything but Park explained that she couldn’t do much about it. Russell heard this from the other side of the door as he walked past your room late at night, telling Sims to source a different medicine he knew of. The next day, he entered your room as you wailed again, thrashing against your cot and he adminstered a dose, barely speaking to you before leaving again but as you clutched his hand, he rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand before letting go. Your touch overwhelmed him.

When he’d see you hang out and play poker or some board games with the others as he was filing reports and chasing up contacts, a tiny frown would form on his face, he’d start picking at the skin on his lips as he watched them or he’d look down and dust his pants off or fiddle with a pen, anything to distract himself from the green-eyed monster

If he heard you singing a song in the other room, he’d put it on for you in the car without a word spoken, you just staring at Adler as if to say how did you know that?

On one chilly night, you fell asleep in the dark room and Adler stood there in the doorway, looking at you, your breathing steady, face rid of anguish and you looked at peace in the red light. Slowly, he made his way over and draped his jacket round your shoulders, thinking to himself it’s just what any decent person would do. Can’t have his tool catching a cold now…

During stakeouts, Russell would start telling you random facts about himself he’s never told another person, saying to himself you’ll be gone soon anyways, that you were an outsider so that’s why it was easier to talk to you.

This feeling he had only seemed to grow with each mission. Instead of letting the others help you out when injured, he’d grip your shoulder as soon as they got in, steering you towards the nearest stool before anyone had a chance to say anything and command you to sit, treating you like the dog you are while he fetched the supplies.

As the weeks passed, he’d take you to your room and patch you up there, wanting some one-on-one time with you, making casual conversation, half to distract you from the pain and half to suppress the thoughts going round in his mind about being so close to losing you

He made you laugh once or twice and couldn’t stop thinking about it. It sounded even better than when Woods or the other crew members made you laugh and it made him smile to which you pointed out but he stood up and left shortly after, his standard, stoic expression returning to his face

Adler would stay up on a few occasions to make sure you slept, scanning your face as the pills began to take effect, his arms folded as he stood, looming over you, his finger scratching at his arm even though it wasn’t itchy. It was just unease which he consistently pushed down but he noticed he was getting more fidgety when it came to you. Almost like the guilt was eating him from the inside out. He’d take off his watch, place his cigs on the side and settle into a chair, telling himself it’s just for a few minutes but once he did stay the whole night, leaving before the others woke up. Nobody ever knew

If you ever asked about your time together as friends and during Vietnam when you’d having trouble remembering, he’d keep it short and sweet, but every now and then he’d make up something that was what he wished it would have been like. Nothing too out there.

During mission briefings, he’d find himself laying his attention on you the most as he talked, wanting to know you were really listening to him and secretly asking for your input too and once the others had returned to what they were doing before, he’d pull you to the side, asking you if you were okay with the plan and if there’s anything you need to go over. I mean, you were the main star of course so it makes sense but his hand would reach for your upper arm and then retract. Boundaries, Adler…

One thing that killed him though was the fact that you only ever grabbed him out of fear, during MK-Ultra when you didn’t want him to leave, when in agony from a gunshot wound, or just as you dropped off to sleep after he injected your when you were being disobedient. Couldn’t admit he wanted you to grab onto him in desperation as he- Get a grip, Adler! When did he start thinking of you like that?

After Cuba, he felt nothing. No sense of accomplishment yet as he was one step further away from locating the man he’d been chasing for 13 years but now he was two steps closer to saying goodbye to you for good…

[stellamancer]

notes: time is a construct that bten!reader no longer understands. anyway, yes hellow, late gojo birthday fic that i am pretending that i'm not posting on megumi's birthday LMAO.

takes place in the same universe as beyond the unending night, however reading that fic is not necessary, all you need to know is that reader has a CT that can rewind time. slight and implied reader x gojo if you're squinting. also. reader is very unreliable narrator (there are some things in the narration that gojo responds to because reader is unaware they said it aloud oops.) not proofread.

wc: 944

“Your birthday was a couple days ago?” 

Gojo tilts his head toward you, expression passive for a split second before a broad grin spreads across his face. “It was! How did you know! Wait, let me guess, you—”

“The students,” you supply flatly before he can make any outlandish suggestions regarding how you happened across the information. “Yuta-kun mentioned it.” 

There’s a slight pucker to Gojo’s lips, but it’s gone almost instantly as he remarks. “Oh Yuta… He’s always been an exemplary student! Even going so far as to remember his dear old teacher’s birthday…” 

You stare at Gojo. There’s a trap here. Bait. It’s not well hidden either, if his exaggerated tone is any indication. You consider telling him straight up: it’s not possible to remember something you never knew in the first place. But instead, you decide to indulge him. “Do people usually not remember?” 

Now that you say that, you find the words hard to believe. You can barely call yourself a part of jujutsu society, but there’s no denying that Gojo is something of a big deal. There’s no way that these illustrious ‘higher ups’ would forget the birthday of someone as important as Satoru Gojo.

“It’s not that they don’t remember,” Gojo says, “it’s that they just don’t care.” 

The nonchalance in his voice stuns you, more so than the fact that you cannot detect even a hint of bitterness in it. They… don’t care? You want to be in denial, to think that that simply cannot be true. And yet…

You cannot deny it. 

Not when you know what you do of the top brass.

“Well, not the students,” Gojo adds, fondness seeping into his tone as the tiniest smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Threw me a party and everything. As expected of students of the Great Teacher Gojo!”

He puffs his chest out a little, clearly pleased, no doubt proud. 

“...did you do anything else?” you ask. Knowing someone as whimsical as Gojo, you can imagine him spending the day as he pleased, going from sweet shop to sweet shop spending exorbitant amounts of money on any and every sugary item he could possibly get his hands on. 

“Nope.” 

You blink at him. “What.”

“I was waaaaaay too busy to do anything else,” Gojo says with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, I’m lucky that the students love me so much that they took on a couple extra missions just so we could party for a half hour.”

Gojo’s words have you gawking at him, slack jawed and in awe. You’re well aware that he’s a busy guy, but to only have had a half hour of free time on his birthday to celebrate is just…

“Don’t make that face.” His voice is quiet. Gentle. “It’s fine; I’m used to it. Just a part of being an adult, you know?”

He’s not wrong, but… 

Somehow, it doesn’t sit well with you. 

“....you’re done with everything you have to do today, right?” you ask, reaching into your pocket to check the time; it’s nearly midnight.

“Yeah?” Gojo answers, and while he sounds mostly amused, you think you can hear the smallest hint of confusion. “You thinking of having a late night snack together to make up for missing my birthday? How romantic of you!” 

“Not exactly,” you shoot back without missing a beat, but Gojo doesn’t seem to be disappointed by you rebuffing him. You outstretch your palm toward him and he inclines his head down slightly to show that he’s looking down at it. 

Gojo hums. He knows what you’re thinking. Of course he does. “You know that’s technically against the rules.” 

“And?” you ask as you stare back at him.

“You could get in biiiiiiig trouble, you know.”

Your gaze doesn’t waver.

“Could even be sentenced to death for it!” 

Your hand doesn’t move.

Gojo tilts his head to the side before heaving a sigh and shaking his head. He raises his hand, but rather than take yours, he reaches up higher and moves to flick your forehead. That would work just as well, and for a split second you gather your cursed energy, ready to use your technique, but—

You merely wince and Gojo tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow as your energy quickly dissipates.

“Change your mind?” he asks.

“Wasn’t sure if you were actually going to do it,” you answer honestly. Did he actually flick you or did he just ‘pretend’ to? There wouldn't have been any point if he pretended. 

“What do you think?”

You frown as a playful, yet menacing grin spreads across Gojo's face. He knows full well that you can't tell, especially if you can't even see the point of contact. 

“Well wishes aside, the only other thing I can really offer you is time,” you deadpan. It wasn't like you were going to be stupid and give him a week or even a month, but…

Gojo wags his finger at you, tutting. “No, not true! There's something else!”

You give him a pointed look. What else could you possibly give? 

“Well, it's really more like an IOU,” he explains airily, before his tone shifts, growing quieter and more serious. “Just get stronger. Strong enough to take on missions just like me and maybe next year we can have a longer party.” 

You sigh. His suggestion is more practical, more useful in the long run, and while you can agree with what he's proposed… It's his birthday. He could afford to be a little more selfish. 

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, his smile ever wide and absolutely ominous. “I'll keep that in mind next time.” 

[lucijawriteswords]

losing it | trevor zegras

summary: you and trevor have hit a rough patch recently, with covid and him being away and all, and everything comes to a head over his tournament.

warnings: 18+ SMUT!!! kissing, oral (m receiving). grossly emotional. some fluff. once again relatively tame. once again, unedited. apologies.

word count: 3.9k

A/N: hello hello! firstly, i cannot thank you all enough for your love. i’m absolutely floored. please, continue to let me know how you feel, who you want me to write about, what you want me to write about. it’s all for you anyways. for those of you who love whiny, obedient, indulgent hockey boys, this one is for you. for those of you who prefer the other kind: be patient with me. he’s on the way and he’s worth the wait. yes, the timelines probably don’t line up perfectly. yes, the logistics of everything are off. but you’re probably not here for that ;). i invite you to enjoy this little piece of me. until next time.

18+ below the cut

Z❤️: I don’t think u should come to the tourney

your entire body stilled as you read the message banner on the top of your phone screen. you had to be seeing things. your thumb was shaky as you moved it up to click on the notification. you blamed it on the train.

and there it was. you weren’t seeing things. trevor actually said you shouldn’t go to his tournament.

now, if it was any other tournament, you would’ve probably given in. said yes, settled for just seeing him on facetime. but this was his last time playing for the national team as a junior, a team he had grown up with, a team that was his family, and by extension, yours. you and trevor had been together for years, since you were both fifteen. his friends clowned you two endlessly for it, stating that there was no way it would work out in the big picture, that it was just a teenage thing, and it would end when you guys turned twenty.

you’d never even considered their words until now.

Y/N🌹: wdym?

awful answer, but you truly couldn't figure out what he meant. or rather, if he meant it.

Z❤️: Think I made it pretty clear when I said u shouldn’t come to the tourney. We have the whole covid bubble and I’m not gonna pretend its been sunshine and rainbows w us the past few weeks cause it hasnt

Y/N🌹: ok

Z❤️: Ok? U don’t care?

you scoffed.

Y/N🌹: i care trevor i just don’t wanna argue with you about this. ur obviously pretty convinced i shouldn’t be there so i’m not gonna try and change ur mind abt it

Z❤️: Ok then

Z❤️: I love you

Y/N🌹: i love you more. can we talk more a bit later?

read 4:13pm

you laughed bitterly, trying to ignore the tears stinging your eyes. the screen above the door signaled your stop and you stood, making your way off the train. the boston air was cold, seemingly clawing it’s way through your coat and hoodie and sinking it’s claws into your already wounded heart.

you felt tears, cold on your face. you wiped them away quickly, scolding yourself mentally. get over it, it’s not like he broke up with you. it’s just a tournament. he’ll have more tournaments in his life.

your hand, already cold, seemingly rattled as it pushed the door open to your apartment building. once you were in the elevator, your keys seemed to evade you, playing a game of hide and seek in your bag. huffing in annoyance, you slung the bag off your shoulder, setting it down on the floor of the elevator and rifling through the contents harshly. finally, you located the bastards, seizing them triumphantly, trying with every bit of your being to ignore the usa hockey keychain with his initials on the back. the elevator door ground it’s way open and you stepped out as quickly as possible, muttering to yourself, “hate that fuckin’ elevator.”

the aforementioned bastardized keys jingled loudly as you shoved the correct one into the lock. you twisted it, pushing the door open with your other hand before harshly removing the jesting hunk of metal and tossing it away. the metallic thud and halting of jingling as it landed somewhere was therapeutic to your aching mind.

as you flopped down onto the couch, you realized that all you wanted was to lay down and go to bed. so what if it was only 4:30? it was cold, dead winter in boston, your boyfriend wasn’t home, and you didn’t have anything to do because you didn’t have to pack anymore. you should’ve felt relief, right? no responsibilities, half a month without in person classes, no plane tickets and masks and new, scary airport rules, no name tags around your neck and no girls giggling and groaning right behind you over trevor. but you didn’t feel relief. you’d grown to love the chaos, to understand it and want it. hockey was one of the most important things in trevor’s life, and he was one of the most important things in yours, so hockey became integral to your life too. you learned the ins and outs, befriended his teammates, went to practices and sometimes even dryland, just to see him to what he loved.

it had changed a lot over the past year or so, with him being drafted and then covid. he wasn’t playing in california yet, so there was that, but it was at the forefront of his mind, and you could tell. that’s not to say he wasn’t finding success in college hockey, but his mind was obviously elsewhere. you’d never brought it up until a few weeks ago, when he was about to leave to enter the covid bubble for the juniors tournament. it was the night before he left when you finally brought it up.

two weeks ago

“hey z?”

he lifted his head from whatever he was looking at on his phone. “mhm?”

you walked over and sat down on the couch next to him. “i just want you to know that i’m here for you and you can talk to me.”

his face immediately screwed up and you felt your stomach drop. “what? why’re you saying that? did i do something wrong?” defensive.

you steadied yourself with an inhale. “no, but i just wanted to make sure you knew. i can tell there’s been a lot on your mind recently.”

he scoffed. “yeah, whatever.” his gaze returned to his phone.

“whatever? trevor, are you being serious?”

“yeah, y/n, i am.” he shot back, his gaze fiery as it collided with yours again. “ i’m fine, i don’t know what your deal is.”

“i never said you weren’t fine.”

“no, but you said i don’t seem focused.”

you furrowed your brow and shook your head, incredulous. “i did not say that. i said you seem like you have a lot on your mind.”

“same difference. what, am i not paying enough attention to you? am i playing poorly? what’s wrong with me now, y/n? what am i failing at? god, you’re stupid sometimes.”

you were stunned, jaw slack as you took in his words. you saw the recognition in his eyes, noticed the way his mouth opened to retract his words and offer a shitty apology, the way his torso rotated towards you and he held up a hand as an ask for forgiveness as he was about to defend himself.

your response was automatic.

“i don’t know why you’re asking what’s wrong with you now because, if i recall, and forgive me if i don’t because i’m so stupid, i’ve said jack shit to you about how much attention you give me or how you play. do you honestly think i care? news flash, i don’t. i don’t fucking care how you play! i don’t care if you don’t score, or get an assist, i wouldn’t fucking care if you didn’t put a single point up all season! because i care about you. i care about if you’re having fun and feeling proud of yourself for how hard you work. i love being able to do it all with you, trevor, but if you’re going to call me stupid for caring about you, i can definitely let you do it on your own.”

it was his turn to be floored.

after a pregnant pause filled with his confused eyes searching your face and your eyes almost letting go of their tears, his voice cut through. “you’re breaking up with me?” you weren’t imagining the tremble in his voice or the watering of his eyes.

“no, trevor, i’m not breaking up with you.” you sniffled, wiping under your eyes with the cuff of your hoodie. his hoodie. “i don’t think i could do that even if i wanted to. i’m just saying you don’t get to be mean to me-” your voice faltered, tears truly flowing now. you tried to keep your sobs inside, feeling the cushion you were on dip as trevor scooted over to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. you let go, cried into his chest, fingers clutching the back of his sweatshirt. you felt him crying too, the way his back shook and the wetness in the crook of your neck where his head was nestled. you shifted to be on top of him, legs straddling his, but there was nothing sexual about it. you just needed to be as close to him as you could be and you knew he needed you too.

trevor cried and cried and cried. you weren’t even hurt by what he said anymore. you’d known something was bugging him, that his mind wasn’t completely in it, but the way he cried- loud and hard and full of hurt- made you sad. it made you angry.

when you started to feel him twitch and hiccup, gasping for air in between sobs, barely getting air in, you knew your time in silence had ended. “baby, can you look at me?” he just squeezed you tighter and let out another sob into your neck. “honey, please.” he sniffled, reluctantly drawing his face away from your neck. your eyes filled with tears again at the sight of his face: lips and nose red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears, his eyes swollen and bloodshot. you brought your hands to cradle his head, thumbs swiping gently under his eyes. he melted into your touch.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, so quiet and tearful you weren’t sure you heard it.

“thank you.” you whispered back, bringing your lips to his forehead and kissing it lightly.

“you’re not stupid. you’re the smartest person i know. i’m just-“ he took a deep breath, willing the tears away from his eyes. “just been really hard lately and i haven’t had an outlet. shouldn't have said that to you. i didn’t mean it.”

“i know, baby. i’m not mad. just wish you hadn’t said it. do you wanna talk?”

he nodded. “yeah, i wanna get it off my chest.”

“i’m listening.”

“i just don’t know if i’m good enough. i’m scared i’m not gonna make it in the league and i’m not gonna do well at worlds. i’m scared i’m gonna let the school team down, scared i’m not doing enough for you or that you’re gonna stop loving me. i don’t know,” he finished with a big sigh.

your eyes searched his face as you formulated an answer. “well, one thing i can promise you is that i’m not gonna stop loving you. and you’re doing more than enough. why do you think that i would stop loving you?”

“i dunno. i’m just in my head.”

“so get out,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood even the littlest bit.

a small smile made its way onto his face. “ha ha.”

“i’m serious, trev. i’m not going to stop loving you. nothing could make me. even if, somehow, life leads us separate ways- and i don’t think it will- i will always have love in my heart for you.”

he nodded with a sniffle, absorbing your words.

while he was in a talking mood, you decided to get the other one out of the way as well. “why’re you so concerned about hockey all of a sudden? you’ve been playing great here, your coaches at camps in california had nothing but good things to say. what’s up?”

“i’m not really sure. i guess i’m just in my head again. i compare myself to other players. like, jack went fucking first overall. he’s not even playing in the tournament because he’s in the nhl. and the guys that are coming, like coley and turcs, they both went above me in the draft. i just- i don’t know. i have the same training and experience and everything as those guys but i feel like i’ll underperform once we all get to the nhl.”

you just nodded, unable to find the right words. you knew how trevor was with hockey. he got in his head and convinced himself he wasn’t good enough even though he was beyond talented.

“i’m sorry,” was all you could muster.

he shakes his head, hair bouncing. “don’t be. not your fault.” a yawn breaks from his mouth.

“tired?” you hum, placing your head into the crook of his neck and shoulder, nuzzling into him. he lets his head fall sideways and rest on top of yours, his fingers lazily trailing up your sides. he hums an agreement and without another words carries you into the bedroom, sleepy apologies and ‘i love yous’ falling from both of your lips as you drift off.

now

breaking out of your reverie, you realized you were very cold. and your phone had stopped buzzing. standing up with creaky joints, you slipped your phone onto the wireless charger on the coffee table and flipped the heat up a couple degrees, padding into you and trevor’s shared bedroom to grab a sweatshirt.

tugging the garment over your head, you grabbed your favorite soft blanket from the end of the bed and made your way back to the couch to settle in and watch something.

a few minutes into your tv show, your phone screen lit up as it regained its charge, messages and snapchats pouring in.

from one person.

you almost broke the remote with how quickly you slammed the pause button, grabbing your phone with the charger still attached and clutching it tight, immediately opening you and trevor’s messages.

5:07pm

Z❤️: I can talk now if u wanted

Z❤️: Sorry to leave you on read we had a team meeting that I didn’t know about

Y/N🌹: it’s ok

Y/N🌹: should i call u?

Z❤️: Wait one sec

your brows furrowed.

Z❤️: Ok click on this

a banner appeared at the top of your screen from the wallet app:

New Boarding Pass from Southwest Airlines

your heart quite nearly fell out of your body. what kind of joke was he playing at?

Y/N🌹: trev r u serious

Y/N🌹: what kind of joke is this cause i’m not laughing

Z❤️: I’m going to explain everything rn

Y/N🌹: um hell yes you are

Z❤️: Rawr 🐱

despite yourself, a snort escaped your nose.

Y/N🌹: stop being funny and explain

Z❤️: During practice I just wasn’t playing well and a bunch of the guys were chirping me saying ‘how can you keep that bird if you can barely keep a puck’ and other bullshit like that and it just got under my skin

Y/N🌹: t don’t listen to them they’re full of shit

Y/N🌹: you know you’re talented

Z❤️: I know

Z❤️: I miss you so much

Y/N🌹: i miss you more

Y/N🌹: but i don’t understand the ticket. that’s not that bad of a chirp

Z❤️: I just really need you to be here and I’m sorry I didn’t realize it earlier

you smiled, your thumbs flying across the screen of your phone.

Y/N🌹: what airport do i fly into?

Z❤️: It’s all on the boarding pass baby just pack whatever you need for a few weeks cause u change outfits all the time and figure out a ride to the airport

Z❤️: I can order you an uber to the airport?

Y/N🌹: no baby that’s okay you’ve done way more than enough

Y/N🌹: trevor i love you so much

Z❤️: Im not tired I wanna keep talking to you

Z❤️: Can we ft while you pack?

Y/N🌹: you’re perfect

3 days later

the noises of the airport surrounded you as you made your way through the tunnel off the plane, your overfilled carryon and heavy backpack giving your back a run for its money.

waiting by the baggage claim was treacherous. your phone was going crazy in your hand.

Y/N🌹: just landed, waiting by baggage claim

Z❤️: Ok I am outside the baggage claim door

Z❤️: I have a hat and mask on so you might not recognize my wonderful hair or gorgeous face but i have this red and navy usa hky puffer thingy on

Y/N🌹: ur such a weirdo

Y/N🌹: who taught u the word puffer miss girly girl

Z❤️: Shush

Z❤️: Just get your bagggggggggg and come out here I miss you

you smiled at your phone and shut it off, looking at the spinning track, willing your bag to come out quickly.

you bounced impatiently on the balls of your feet as the gray suitcase made its way around, grabbing the handle excitedly and hauling it off the track as it got to you.

the wheels thrummed against the linoleum as you popped the handle up and scurried your way out the door, thanking the employee standing nearby.

the automatic doors squealed on their tracks as your suitcase wheels rattled over the concrete, turning as you exited the doors in a search for trevor. your eyes searched left and right for the navy and red puffer he said he’d be wearing, and when your eyes landed on him, your knees nearly buckled.

“trevor!” you shouted out excitedly, throwing a hand up in the air and waving at him, an unfiltered and toothy and real smile breaking onto your face.

you could practically see him smile even with the mask, walked him step quickly through people until he was clear, then break into a run the last few paces.

his chest collided with you in a bone crushing, devastating hug, a hug that said i’m sorry. i love you. please let me keep loving you. your arms wound around his back, hands digging into his jacket and you buried yourself into him.

“missed you so much, honey. i’m so sorry.” he murmured into your hair, pressing kisses onto your head through the mask.

you nodded, lifting your head from his chest, your eyes meeting. “let’s go to the car, yeah?” you nodded again, following him.

the streets and parking garage were near empty, a strange phenomenon around an airport. trevor’s grip on your hand was tight as he led you to the car, squeezing every now and again, like he couldn’t believe that you were there.

once your bags were in the car and you were sitting next to him in the passenger seat, the atmosphere between you changed drastically. tension shimmered between you two like hot air rising above the blacktop. his hand found its home on your thigh, drawing light circles, making you shiver.

his gaze strayed to you, eyes brimming with something that looked a lot like love, but more like want.

“how far is the hotel?” you breathed out, your true intentions on full display. and why wouldn’t they be?

“bout 45 minutes.” trevor responds, his hand simultaneously moving further up your thigh, nearing your clothed center. you squirmed, crossing your legs, leaning towards him.

“plenty of time, then.” you murmured as you moved your hands towards his zipper, towards what you wanted. you fiddled with the zipper tag, trailing your fingernails across the seam covering his bulge. “come on baby, don’t tease me.” he ground out, taking a turn a little to sharp when you scratched your nails down his denim clad thigh.

“or what, z? what’re you gonna do to me? gonna make me pay?” how you would love for him to make you pay.

he whined, the leather of the steering wheel groaning as his grip tightened. “please, baby. please. you’re killing me. i won’t make you pay, ill be so good when we get there, baby, ill do whatever you want.” he sputtered, turning off of the main road onto some side street away for the noise of an inner city airport.

a grin snaked onto your face, finally pulling his zipper down, almost salivating at the sight of this bulge of his pretty cock in his boxers. you shimmied his pants down, fingers digging into his rigid thighs, nails leaving crescent moons in the flesh. he huffed out something between a moan and a sob, head lolling to the side. “please, baby, please, just touch me. please, i’ll be good.”

“if you insist.” you cooed evilly, trailing a feather light fingertip over him through his boxers.

incredibly, finally, you took him in your hand, pumping him through his boxers, the soft fabric gliding along him, coaxing a moan from his pretty mouth.

trevor’s eyes, which had never strayed from the road, flared and his hips lifted pathetically in the air, searching for something, anything to relive the ache in his cock.

your core clenched around nothing at the sight of him, of his pathetic and desperate thrusts into the air, at how badly he needed your touch. he was quickly relieved of his boxers as you pushed them down, the fabric bunching around the hem of his pushed down pants. the car slowed to a stop, the noise of then turn signal and his ragged breathing almost comedic, almost shameful, but so, so right.

you looked up at him, the way his jaw clenched and his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, trying to play the role of dedicated driver to the cars in the adjacent lanes. an evil grin clawed its way onto your face before you lifted him to your mouth, taking him deeply at once, groaning at the silky, hot skin, the heavy feel of him on your tongue.

"holy fuck-" the car stuttered forward before the brakes were slammed back on, causing his cock to lurch deeper into your mouth, a pathetic whine leaving trevor's lips as he brushed the back of your throat. you just hummed around him, bobbing your head and bracing yourself against the console as the car accelerated slowly into a turn.

a murmured comment of "thank god for tinted windows," or something of that sort, caused you to let a small laugh out of your nose, the muscles in your throat constricting around him. you heard his ragged pants and the sound of his head hitting the headrest as he undoubtedly threw it back.

"baby, i'm gonna lose it, you're killing me." he whined, raising his hips off the seat, the strong muscle of his thigh pushing into your chest.

you simply grinned around his delicious length, pushing your head down till your nose almost met the soft skin at his base before pulling almost all the way off of him, tracing your teeth along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock, featherlight and torturous at the same time.

"shit." trevor heaved a sigh, chest caving in as he fought the urge to let go.

you trailed your nails up the taut muscle of his thigh, fingers splaying to anchor yourself. you felt him harden like steel and twitch in your mouth; you could almost smell the release coming over him like a wave, savoring the way his hips rolled and stuttered and finally bucked up into your mouth as he let go with a whimpered "fuck."

you moaned around him, laving your tongue over his now shuddering cock, taking everything he would give you.

"holy shit. holy shit." he whispered, one hand coming down to your head to gently urge you off him, overstimulation crashing over him suddenly and and unbearably.

you just sat back up and licked your lips, drowning in his taste.

"just wait till we get back to the hotel," you chuckled, crossing your legs and turning the radio on.

[ivaalo]

Introduction

This is a fan analysis about the results of 24 polls posted on Tumblr by the user @zeldatourney. Huge thanks to them to have organized this tourney.

(Keep in mind my first language isn't English, so I might make some minor mistakes)

This is a long post with multiple graphs, so I'm putting a "Read more" button here!

For each game, the question asked was "How high does [game] rank?" with 7 answers possible to choose:

S tier (One of the greatest)

A tier (A favorite)

B tier (I like it)

C tier (Meh)

D tier (I'd rather play something else)

F tier (AWFUL)

I haven't played this game

The poll started on the 2nd of December 2024 and ended the 9th of December 2024.

Disclaimer: This is not a representation of the Zelda community as a whole, but a result of people who saw and voted for the polls between those previously quoted dates.

For the rest of this post, I will simplify each game's name by its abbreviations. For example, "A Link To The Past" will be named "ALTTP". The polls didn't specify if it contains the original games or both the original games and the remakes. They will be named as such:

[TLOZ] The Legend of Zelda

[AOL] Adventure of Link

[ALTTP] A Link to the Past

[LA] Link's Awakening (DX) (+ the unnamed 2019 remake)

[OOT] Ocarina of Time (3D)

[MM] Majora's Mask (3D)

[OOS] Oracle of Seasons

[OOA] Oracle of Ages

[FS] Four Swords (Anniversary Edition)

[TWW] The Wind Waker (HD)

[FSA] Four Swords Adventures

[TMC] The Minish Cap

[TP] Twilight Princess (HD)

[PH] Phantom Hourglass

[ST] Spirit Tracks

[SS] Skyward Sword (HD)

[ALBW] A Link Between Worlds

[HW] Hyrule Warriors (Legend / Definitive Edition)

[TFH] Tri Force Heroes

[BOTW] Breath of the Wild

[COH] Cadence of Hyrule

[AOC] Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity

[TOTK] Tears of the Kingdom

[EOW] Echoes of Wisdom

Collected data

Each poll being independent from each other, the number of votes varies from one poll to another.

For each games, I added the percentage (as picked up from the HTML for a better precision). The result is either 99.999, 100 or 100.001, so I sometimes cheated to add or remove 0.001 somewhere. Tumblr doesn't give you access to the exact numbers of vote per option.

So before ranking the games, I have to show you first what games are the most played. Adding all answers and doing:

Played (%) = 100 - "I haven't played this game" (%)

I'll use colours to differentiate 2D games (in terms of gameplay) to 3D games. I'll also highlight spin-off games and multiplayer games.

Here are the games played by more than 75% of players:

We can already see a huge pattern. All the 3D games are there. And the only 2D Zelda game to be played by 75% of players is ALBW. BOTW and OOT are the most played games of the sample, as those were huge turning points and both cultural and commercial success.

We can also notice the difference of 5% between the least played 3D game (MM) and the most played 2D game (ALBW).

Let's continue to look at the other played games:

EOW is most likely low as it's the most recent game, at this time, but also because it's not a 3D game. And the hype train was low compared to TOTK. (3 months of anticipation compared to 4 years)

And finally, the multiplayer games are the least played games, excluding COH. Also worth noting that all the spin-off games cited can also be played with another player, but it wasn't the main focus of the communication. COH being a musical tactical rogue-lite only appealed to a specific part of Zelda fans.

If these polls contained the CD-i Zelda games, Link's Crossbow Training and Tingle games, the score would probably be under COH, but we never know!

I'll keep these colours as labels, to recognize them better in the next images.

Alright. Time to share the ranking. Here is the global result, sorted by release date in North America:

It's kind of a lot to see! Overall, the games are pretty liked. So first, let's take a look at the disliked games:

Please note that the X-axis was zoomed, so we can see the result better.

We can already notice that AOL makes a huge contrast. As this game is considered as the black sheep of the franchise because of how different it is, its reputation mostly came from the difficulty of that game.

Almost a factor of 0.5 divides the first disliked game to the second. TFH the second disliked and the original TLOZ follows.

ALBW is the least disliked, with under 1%, counting D tier and F tier.

But notice the F-tier (red) line. It varies a lot, so let's take a look at the most hated games:

Yep, TOTK is third, this time. As I don't personally think it's awful, it definitively disappointed many by being too close to BOTW and having a lot of issues BOTW didn't have.

Nobody voted "F tier" for ALTTP nor OOT. Same for OOS but keep in mind this game was the least voted one too!

Alright, enough for the hate! Let's look at the most appreciated Zelda games.

Yep, the majority of Zelda fans like 22.5 out of 24 of the games! (TFH being exactly 50, I half-counted it!)

TWW is being almost unanimously appreciated, with almost 97%, and the second one to get this score is TMC, a 2D game, with more than 96%!

You can notice some gaps, like between ST and COH, and then between the Oracle games and TOTK.

Now let's look at the most loved games:

5 3D games are in the top 5, except for SS and TOTK. TMC is very close to beat BOTW and remains the most loved 2D Zelda game. Notice how SS and TOTK make a huge gap between the game before and the game after, like voters use them as references. The two Hyrule Warriors games are, in a funny way, between the Oracle ones.

Let's add a step forward and look at the S tier only:

Nothing changes for the top 9 games. However, EOW seems more nuanced and is less considered as best than TOTK.

Final results

And finally, let's rank them using the Majority Judgment:

The Majority Judgment was created to propose a more democratic way to vote. Each candidate has multiple mentions, and you (the elector) must attribute one mention to each candidate. Since this poll uses this exact method of vote, I decided to rank them all using the Majority Judgment. To count using the Majority Judgment, you must focus on the 50% axis, and look at the category that crosses it (more than 50%). That gives you the tier, and the best tier wins.

When two or more candidates get the same tier, there are multiple ways to rank:

The first way is to put a line at the middle and see which line has the higher percentage. (Less precise but more simple)

The second way is to divide it into multiple tiers by doing the first method again and again until each candidates has a unique tier. (More precise but less simple)

But since I didn't want to compare B++++ to B+++-, I used the first method. It's my democracy and I do whatever I want!

Just keep in mind that depending on the way to count these games may be swapped:

ALTTP and LA

OOA and PH

AOC and HW

SO, for the data. Top 5 is TWW, MM, TP, OOT and BOTW. To be honest, I imagined MM to be a more nuanced game, or at least more controversial, since it has a unique concept.

The A tier only contains 2D games, except SS. TMC, ST and ALBW are the favourite 2D games. ALTTP and LA are always very close. The last one of the tier is EOW.

Only mainline games are in the S and A tier.

The first game of the B tier is a spin-off game, followed by TOTK.

TFH was one vote away from being in the B tier. And no surprise, AOL is the last one.

To sum up, according to the participants who voted for these polls:

S tier

🥇 The Wind Waker

🥈 Majora's Mask

🥉 Twilight Princess

⭐ Ocarina of Time

⭐ Breath of the Wild

A+ tier

The Minish Cap

Spirit Tracks

A- tier

A Link Between Worlds

Skyward Sword

A Link to the Past

Link's Awakening

Echoes of Wisdom

B+ tier

Cadence of Hyrule

Tears of the Kingdom

Oracle of Seasons

Oracle of Ages

Phantom Hourglass

B- tier

Age of Calamity

Hyrule Warriors

Four Swords Adventures

Four Swords

The Legend of Zelda

C+ tier

Tri Force Heroes

C- tier

Adventure of Link

Thank you for reading! ~

[sp00kymulderr]

giddy up jingle horse

Dieter Bravo x reader

Part three of wrapped up in you

Summary: You’re not feeling festive, so Dieter decides to help you find your Christmas spirit

Words: 1.2k

Tags/warnings: 18+, Christmas, references to sex, sex toys, pet play adjacent but not really. One clown mention. Reader should be gender neutral, reader referred to as baby and cookie. I wrote this on my phone and haven’t edited so I’m sorry for awful mistakes.

A/N: Happy Christmas to those who celebrate. This is my gift to the wonderful members of the @dieterbravobrainrotclub over on discord. I love you guys so much. Enjoy some terrible, unhinged, festive Dieter

As the flight status changes from delayed to cancelled, your Christmas spirit goes with it.

It was the last straw in a year of bad luck, and now just a few days before the big day you had absolutely no interest in celebrating anything festive if you couldn’t do it in Lapland with nothing but you and Dieter and the little cabin under the stars.

Dieter who made an actual effort to not only be with you for a decent amount of time this year but had booked the vacation especially for you. He knew what your year had been like, and he knew you needed to get away, and Dieter always did what he could to make sure you would get what you wanted. Especially at his favourite time of year.

You'd never expected him to be the Christmas loving type, given his interest in all kinds of new age things and his rejection of tradition so completely, but he had explained to you early on that when growing up he had spent many festive seasons with his Grandma and it was her absolute favourite time of year. For him, celebrating was honouring her.

Of course his celebrations these days were a little different, certainly not the wholesome family holidays he’d grown up on. Some of the efforts he went to to get you both in the holiday mood included sexy santa outfits and christmas themed sex toys and that whole thing last year where he'd gift wrapped his cock for you and also gifted you an exact replica of it. He had really made Christmas his own, and made sure to make those he’d spent with you as memorable as possible.

Unfortunately now all his efforts were falling undone with the last minute cancellation of the trip you’d been so desperately looking forward to for months.

"You okay cookie?” He asks, sitting on the side of the bed as you resign yourself to unpacking the suitcase that had been ready to go for a week.

"I’m…I’m just…" You sigh, throwing the cute snow boots to the back of the wardrobe so you don’t have to look at them again “We were going to see real snow! And reindeer! I was so excited about meeting those reindeer”

The reindeer experience had been a special add on, and the moment Dieter realised how much you’d wanted to do it he’d shelled out for a VIP option.

"I'll be fine" You muster the best smile you can, hoping it's true and youll find some of that merry feeling you had a few days ago. You don't stop him from coming over to wrap his arms around you, stopping you from fussing with the suitcase as he held you in a long hug and kissed your forehead gently. Your sweet man.

"You will...I'll find a way" Dieter says, set with determination.

***

It's two days later when he comes to you all mischievous and grinning like he's done something either incredibly good or incredibly stupid. You guess a mixture of both, that’s usually how it goes.

He's holding a small box in his hand, his eyebrow quirked and a dopey grin as he holds it out to you.

"Merry Christmas, cookie"

You take the box and give him a quizzical look. You don't do presents on Christmas eve, but Dieter just nods and waits for you to open it.

You open the box, which within it holds....something red. You're not actually sure what it is.

"Um..." You say as you pick the thing up. It's round, and red, and has a slot on the back.

A red nose? What the fuck…

”Dieter I don’t…is this another sex thing? Do you want me to dress up as a clown again?”

Dieter chuckles, an enthusiastic smile on his face, but he shakes his head.

”I love your sexy clown look baby, but not this time. This,” He yoinks the red nose from your hand and slots it onto his nose. With a squeeze, the nose glows bright, illuminating him in a red glow “This is for me…well, it’s for you too. But it’s for me to wear. Hold on, give me a sec”

You are no less confused by his response, and when he disappears into the next room you stand exactly where he left you confused and not sure what to expect.

“Okay come in here, cookie!” Dieter calls out after a moment and you follow his voice, for better or worse. You know whatever you’re about to find is going to be another unforgettable Christmas memory at least.

“Oh…”

The living room is covered in fake snow. A projector bathes the room in a starry glow, aurora swirling on the ceiling.

“…my god” you shake with sudden laughter at what you see next.

In the middle of the room is Dieter. On all fours. Wearing his teddy coat, the red nose and the very same antler headband with jingly bells on he’d worn last year when he’d fucked you under the tree. He’s pretending to graze, neighing and whinnying softly when you enter the makeshift reindeer pen.

“Dee…” you can’t help the snort of laughter when he gives you an extremely offended look, shakes his head, and points at the red nose.

“Right, sorry. Rudolph. What the fuck are you doing?!”

He simply points to the sign hung up on the wall - ‘VIP reindeer experience’ - before going back to his very serious and accurate portrayal of Santas favourite animal.

It’s sweet, really. It’s…a little weird, but it’s definitely sweet. He’s trying to bring the failed vacation to you, he’s trying to give you some of that experience you were so looking forward to. Your guess is he tried to get a real reindeer and couldn’t, so instead he decided to put his Oscar winning performing to use. The least you can do is play along, and you have to admit the efforts are elevating your festive spirit a little already.

He’s set everything up, including the carrots for you to feed him. You can’t stop laughing. Giggling and smiling more than you have all week.

“You’re so ridiculous, Rudolph” You murmur with a smile as you pet him and offer him a carrot which he happily chews the end of.

It’s when he tells you to ‘hop on’, spoken out the corner of his mouth so not to ruin the illusion, that you lose it completely.

“Dee, baby, I don’t think they let people ride the reindeers”

“I’m not like the others” He smirks, twinkle of mischief still playing in those deep eyes “You can ride me all night long”

He manages one lap around the room with you gingerly sat atop him before you both collapse on to the floor.

“All those sacks of presents, pulling that sleigh around…Rudolph has a bad fucking back” He wheezes out, groaning and reaching for you, pulling you into his side and laughing into your hair and bumping the red nose off onto the floor in the process.

“Merry Christmas baby, I’m sorry this is the best I could do. We’ll get to Lapland next year, I promise”

“This was perfect. You’re perfect, you lunatic. Thank you for making me smile, Dee. Seriously” You respond, hand sliding beneath the coat and onto his bare chest, as you kiss his cheek.

“One thing though,” You say, standing up with a cheeky smile of your own, leaving him alone for a moment before you come back to the room,

“You’re missing something”

You hold up the plug, fluffy tail attached to the flared base of it.

“Let’s put on your tail, Rudolph, then we’ll see about riding you all night long”

[chryblossomjjk]

[breeberrypies]

THEY TOOK VOLTRON OFF NETFLIX.

[aardvaark]

im so glad that we never get a clear picture of sophie’s background in leverage & i hope we never do. however i also really like making up various, often conflicting backstories for her in my head. perhaps they’re all backstories for an alias of hers, ones she laid to rest back in season two.

[arsenicflame]

stede is 'oh this place has something related to my interest i must go in immediately' autistic and izzy is 'if we deviate one inch from my plan for today i will murder someone' autistic

[puke-ur-gutz]

i will cashapp $10 to the first person who can name 3 real life harmful things bob bryar did without accusing him of thought crime

[unfinishedslurs]

do u love the colors of the comphet

When it’s over, when Henry Creel is dead and dust and they’ve emerged battered and triumphant. When she and Jonathan have ended things. When there is no more fighting to be done, she and Steve give it another go. 

She knows he’s going to ask the same way she knew in ‘83. There’s no waiting this time, no need to wonder if Jonathan might want her too. They gave it the old college try (He lied to her. He was lying to her for months, and she knew something was wrong before that. She thought they could work it out. She’s so fucking sick of lying to herself being lied to). 

He asks with wide, hopeful eyes, running a nervous hand through his hair. He doesn’t have anything to be nervous about. She made up her mind before he even asked. 

She can do it right this time. She can love this boy the way she wants to. The way he wants her to. They’ve both grown in the years since. She’s going to do this right. 

That’s the mantra she keeps in her head when he picks her up and spins her. I can do this. 

She can’t do this. 

It’s somehow the same and different from when they dated the first time. They’re going through the same motions, but there’s something lacking. They’re both older, more jaded. They’re not kids anymore, and it shows. 

They rarely kiss. He hesitates now in a way he didn’t before. Sex is something they don’t bring up at all. Eddie makes a crude joke once, something or other about what Nancy is like in bed, and she and Steve make eye contact. There’s something there, something like mutual understanding, before Robin smacks Eddie upside the back of the head and the moment breaks. She keeps thinking about it long after. Whatever it is that they shared, they don’t talk about it. 

Maybe they’re lying to themselves, both of them. Puppets going through the motions, too stubborn to admit they’re play acting as real people. Still, she can’t give this up. She can’t make the same mistakes all over again. 

Robin corners her two months into the relationship. Part of Nancy is surprised it took her this long. The rest of her is angry she brings it up at all. 

Saying she’s cornered might be doing her a disservice. They’re having a sleepover, painting their nails and talking about boys. Everything a girl is supposed to do. Except Robin is awkward and fumbling, and every name she brings up sounds like a question. Nancy only has Steve to talk about, and barely talks about him at all. 

Finally Robin sighs and puts down the nail polish. “I feel like this subject is making us both miserable,” she declares. “I don’t want to talk about boys, I was just doing it because I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do at girl sleepovers. I haven’t actually been to a sleepover since I was in middle school and the other girls decided I was weird, but I’m pretty sure the point is to have fun. This is not fun. This is agonizing. We should talk about something else.”

“Steve isn’t making me miserable!” She snaps, before realizing she sounds way too defensive. 

Robin peers at her. “Yeah, see, that’s not what I said. That’s not even a little bit close to what I said. Maybe we should talk about this instead. What’s the deal with you and Steve?”

“What deal? There’s no deal.” She turns around and rummages through the nail polish selection. Robin doesn’t exactly have a variety. Her options are red, dark red, and black. She chooses the brighter red with the absent thought that the black would look good on Robin, with her long fingers and dark eyeliner. Then she banishes that thought away. 

“There’s definitely some kind of deal.”

“There isn’t.”

“Nance.” 

She can’t help but turn around then, drawn in by the tone of her voice. There’s a glass wall inside of her, and someone is pounding on it, trying to get out. She wants Robin to see it. She wants someone to see behind the glass. There’s something in her trying to get out. 

“Nancy,” she says again, eyes searing into her soul, “are you happy?”

She smiles, fake and fixed on her face. The glass stays firmly in place.  “Of course I am,” she replies. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

The next time Robin wants to hang out, she’s busy with college preparations. 

It’s not just Robin. She thinks everyone can tell something’s wrong with her. Eddie gives her these looks every time she and Steve are in front of him, like he’s putting together a puzzle. Her mom keeps trying to talk to her. Jonathan keeps trying to talk to her. 

They know, she thinks wildly, every time. She doesn’t know what it is they know. She doesn’t want to find out. 

She avoids them all. 

When she and Steve go to dinner, the waitress captivates her. 

Long, dark hair in braids. Long fingers tapping against the notepad. Dark eyes in a dark face. She’s always loved brown eyes. Nancy has never been one to be jealous of other girls (lie, lie, lie), but suddenly heat floods her body. She wants to be as gorgeous as this woman. She wants her full lips, popping gum. She wants the woman’s swaying hips as she turns and leaves their table. She wants— she wants—

She tears her gaze away to find Steve already looking at her. 

The heat is dosed by the ice that fills her veins. All her senses go on high alert until she realizes he’s actually staring past her. She turns around to see the bartender. He’s handsome, she thinks, tall with tan skin and brown hair carefully styled. He’s talking to a customer, teeth shining as he laughs. 

When she turns back, Steve has firmly fixed his eyes on her. She could almost believe he’d never been staring at the bartender at all. 

There’s something there. Something just out of reach, something she could put a finger out and touch if she were braver. She doesn’t. There’s no gun in her hand here, no adrenaline to keep her going after it all falls apart. 

“What did your dumb boyfriend do this time?” Mike demands, storming in her room. Nancy has half a mind to yell at him to knock first before she registers his words. 

“Steve is- Steve is fine,” she says, startled. “He’s great, actually. Nothings wrong.“

“Then why are you so miserable all the time?” Mike accuses. 

“I am not miserable!”

“You are! You both are, and neither of you will tell anyone what’s wrong, or why-“

“I don’t know why!” She shrieks. Mike falls silent, eyes wide, and Nancy suddenly realizes she’s crying. 

“I don’t know why,” she repeats. “Everything is fine. He’s like, the perfect fucking boyfriend. It’s me, I’m the problem. There’s something wrong with me. There’s a beautiful boy who loves me, and I’m- I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to love him back, but I can’t. I can’t. There’s something wrong with me.” She’s desperate now, wiping away tears as she curls into a ball. She feels pathetic, crying in front of her little brother. She’s the oldest, she should be keeping it together, she shouldn’t let him see her like this. But she can’t help it. There’s something in her screaming to get out. 

Mike, with all the grace and bewilderment of a newborn deer, gingerly pats her shoulder. 

“Have you…talked to Steve about it?”

She gives him a cutting look. It’s probably not as effective as she wants it to be, with her red eyes and tear streaked face. Mike holds his hands up. 

“I’m just saying! He’s your boyfriend, you should talk to him. And if you don’t want him to be your boyfriend, you should really talk to him.”

“I want him to be my boyfriend, I just need to get past whatever this is—“

“Nancy,” Mike says. “It’s not just you. He’s miserable too.”

“Because of me. I just need to—“

Mike shakes his head. “I don’t think it is. If it were because of you, he’d be acting different. More…kicked puppy, or whatever. He’s just being weird,  and won’t tell anyone why. Dustin said he asked Robin, and she doesn’t even know.”

Nancy doesn’t have anything to say to that. 

“I think you need to talk to him,” he says again. “I think you need to talk to each other.”

“When did you get so smart?” She asks, instead of crying again. 

“I’ve always been smarter than you.”

She kicks him for that blatant lie.

“Are we holding onto a dead thing?” She asks out loud. 

He rolls over and looks at her. She’s worried she’s hurt his feelings, broken his heart again, killed any chance they have at a relationship, romantic or not. Then he snorts. 

“Robin got to you too, huh?” He asks, flopping back onto his back to look up at the sky. 

“Mike, actually.”

“Mike? That shithead? What does he know about relationship problems?”

“Are we having relationship problems?”

“I mean,” he says, wry twist to his mouth, “we haven’t had any arguments.”

“Nope.”

“Or general drama.”

“That might be debatable.”

“There’s no need to spice up our sex life.”

She snacks him for that one, and he laughs. She props herself up to look him in the eye. His face is more open than she’s seen it the entire time they’ve been dating. 

“I think you have to be in a relationship to have ‘relationship problems,’” she tells him. “Are we in a relationship?”

He visibly considers this. “I mean, I asked you out, and you said yes. And we never broke up.”

“We haven’t kissed in at least two weeks.”

“Did you want to?”

She takes a moment to think about it. “Not really,” she admits, and his face splits into a grin. 

“Not that you’re not still wonderful, Nancy Wheeler,” he says, teeth shining, “but I don’t think I want to kiss you either. Isn’t that weird?”

When they dated in high school, it was like he couldn’t stand being away from her. He spent every moment he could kissing her, wherever he could. Sometimes it felt almost like a performance he put on for the people around them, lifting her up and spinning her just so everyone would know how in love they were. It was stifling at times, feeling like something to prove. Still, it was how he was, so in love he could burst with it. 

Now, she wonders if it was always a performance. Maybe they’ve both been on a stage, and neither of them noticed the lights blinding them until now. 

“It is a little weird,” she says finally.

“Right?!”

He holds out a hand to shake, the other one firmly in his pocket. God, she wishes she could love him. “Good go, eh Wheeler?” He asks, smile crooked and shaky. 

She snorts. “We made ourselves and everyone around us miserable,” she points out. But she takes his hand. 

[perilegs]

it's been one of those weeks...

[minminambus]

And re: more socializing: I’ve been… able to verbalize my whole queerness… Multiple times already this semester. I don’t think I ever could have predicted that for myself.

[coldflasher]

terrible relative has reached a new level of awful that i just. cannot understand. i cannot understand how anyone can be this AWFUL

(tw animal cruelty, pet death, genuinely have never needed to use these tags before but fuck me)

tonight she decided to tell this "fun" story about how my (now deceased) grandad had once been asked to look after a coworker's pet bird, and somehow while he was looking after it, the bird got out of its cage, and he couldn't get it back in again so he just let it out of the window.

there was just this silence. i was like "on... on purpose?" thinking surely not. no one is that cruel. she's worded this poorly, it must have been an accident, the window was open and the bird escaped because they didn't have time to close it or something

but then she was like "of course on purpose! well he wasn't going to mess around trying to get it back in, what else was he supposed to do?"

i was like?? you cannot be serious. i actually felt sick. "what was he supposed to do?" well he sure as fuck wasn't supposed to DELIBERATELY RELEASE A HELPLESS DEFENCELESS ANIMAL OUTSIDE TO DIE A CRUEL AND UNNECESSARY DEATH, ON FUCKING PURPOSE, BECAUSE HE DIDNT WANT TO DEAL WITH THE MINOR INCONVENIENCE OF DEALING WITH HIS OWN FUCKUP OF LETTING IT OUT

i almost cried. it's actually one of the worst things i have ever heard. someone trusted him to look after their bird and he killed it. he just. deliberately killed it because he deemed its life unworthy of the minor inconvenience of trying to catch it. and she told us this like it was a fun silly anecdote and not a horrific recounting of neglect and animal abuse

and then she had the gall to laugh at me and say "it was just a bird, i grew up on a farm, we don't care about these things." WELL YOU SHOULD. YOU HEARTLESS WITCH.

[zemnarihah]

art students are suuuuch babies dude i actually can't believe all the profs are so nice i'd be grabbing people by the shoulders and shaking them and yelling "JUST REMIX THE FUCKING COLOR WHY HAVE YOU TAKEN 3 PAINTING CLASSES AND YOU STILL WONT EVEN ATTEMPT TO MATCH A COLOR THAT YOU MIXED BEFORE WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING THIS WHOLE TIME DO YOU HAVE LITERALLY NO DESIRE TO IMPROVE OR DO YOU HONESTLY THINK THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU AND THE PERSON WHO IS ALWAYS MAKING INCREIDBLE WORK IS ONLY OUTSIDE FACTORS YOU CLAIM TO HAVE NO CONTROL OVER RATHER THAN WORK AND A WILLINGNESS TO TRY CHALLENGING THINGS

[fizzingwizard]

"My brother had no regard for her; his pleasures were not what they ought to have been, and from the first he treated her unkindly. The consequence of this, upon a mind so young, so lively, so inexperienced as Mrs. Brandon’s, was but too natural. She resigned herself at first to all the misery of her situation; and happy had it been if she had not lived to overcome those regrets which the remembrance of me occasioned. But can we wonder that, with such a husband to provoke inconstancy, and without a friend to advise or restrain her[...] she should fall?" - Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility