#truthfully he looks a bit like this guy i'm in love with which is kind of the appeal

[lotzen]

ummmm i have potentially a date for basically the first time in my life and i'm soooo scared because this guy saw me once while in a dimly lit room and while intoxicated so he didn't really see me. i'm not emotionally ready for him reacting to seeing my face for real. but whatever. congratulations to ME on this momentous occasion. i'm feeling like a normal person for once this is weird. also i'm nauseous

[sematarygirls]

        BOYFRIEND!RAFE x ANXIOUS!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ protected p in v, oral (f! receiving), established relationship, loss of virginity, reader and rafe being dorks, slow sex, these bitches do not shut up, reader is very insecure about her body and of course, has anxiety

NOTES .ᐟ this is representation for all my anxious and insecure girlies who giggle and blurt out random stuff when they're nervous (aka me)

You and Rafe were both on his bed making out, him laying underneath you as you straddled his waist—his idea, of course, citing that it would be more comfortable for both of you that way. "You better just have something in your pocket," you jokingly mumbled against his lips, feeling something distinctly hard and suspiciously close to his dick pressing against you.

You had a tendency to make a lot of dumb jokes and laugh when you were nervous, blurting out whatever came to mind before you could decide against it, which was ironic since overthinking was a second nature to you. You were shy and got nervous a lot, especially around Rafe. He was your first boyfriend and the hottest guy you'd ever laid your eyes on, neither of which helping your nerves.

Rafe's hands slipped under your shirt to touch your bare skin, holding you firmly on his lap. "Wouldn't you like to know," his smirk was teasing as he pulled back from the kiss to peer up at you.

"Uh, yeah, that's kind of the whole point of asking," you also pulled back, sitting up as you smiled down at him. You liked it when Rafe went along with your stupid jokes, bantering with you to put you at ease. He never made you feel weird or awkward for using humor to cope with your anxiety.

"Well, if you must know, I'm packing heat," Rafe quipped with a mischievous grin, his grip on your hips tightening.

You gasped exageratedly, feigning shock. "You have a gun?" You knew very well what he meant, but when did that ever stop you from saying something stupid?

He snorted, his blue eyes shining with amusement. "Yeah, I have a gun in my pants because that makes so much sense," he replied sarcastically, finding your nervous humor endearing.

"Okay, Mr. Sassypants," you rolled your eyes playfully, your palms resting on his chest as a smile pulled at your lips.

"Mr. Sassypants?" Rafe repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You know, that's not a very nice thing to call your loving, patient, and amazingly sexy boyfriend."

"Well, I can't help that my loving, patient, and amazingly sexy boyfriend is such a diva," you grinned, feeling his chest rise and fall, his heart beating steadily under your fingertips.

"Diva?" He gasped in mock offense, his hands sliding up your sides. "I'll show you a diva." In one swift motion, he flipped your positions, pinning you beneath him.

You laughed, looking up at him with a smile despite the anxiety gnawing at you. He had a way of putting your mind at ease with just one look, and the soothing circles he was rubbing on your skin were definitely helping. He stared back at you, his gaze softening. He loved your smile and the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed. Truthfully, he loved everything about you, even your innate ability to make everything a tad bit awkward.

His eyes searched yours intently, searching for any signs that you wanted him to stop. Noticing his serious turn of demeanor and his intense gaze, you felt your cheeks heat up. "Oh, cmon, don't get all serious on me now," you rolled your eyes, trying to lighten the mood.

"Well, I take my role as your boyfriend very seriously," he grinned, leaning down to kiss your neck. "And, it wouldn't be very boyfriendly of me to let you go on without knowing the wonders of sex."

"Oh, right, of course, it would be for my benefit," you giggled, your heart racing at the idea of being intimate with him. You weren't exactly against the idea, but you were still a virgin, and the idea of being with someone like that was undoubtedly nerve-racking.

You could feel Rafe smile against your skin, his hands sliding farther up your sides. "Uh huh, always thinking of what's best for my girl."

"Wow, who knew you were so selfless?" You giggled, biting your lip as he nipped as your skin. Your fingers slotted into his hair as he continued to kiss and suck at your neck, his hot breath fanning against your heated skin.

"I'm a saint, what can I say?" He mumbled, his tone teasing. He was being careful, trying to reassure you without actually saying anything because he knew you'd prefer to keep things as lighthearted as possible to make you forget about how serious the moment actually was. He could tell you were nervous, and he was determined to make you as comfortable as possible.

"Uh huh, a saint," you smiled as he slowly, tentatively pushed your shirt up your body. He was giving you time to tell him to stop, maybe even slap him if you wanted to, but you didn't. As much as you felt like you were going to die on the spot at the idea of him seeing you naked, you trusted him, and you wanted this.

"I am but a humble servant of my sexy girlfriend," he pulled back from your neck to search your eyes again, pausing for a moment before your shirt revealed your bra. You gave him a small nod, and he smiled, tugging the shirt over your head as you leaned up a little and lifted your arms to help him. He threw the shirt aside, eyes roaming your skin, as if memorizing every detail. "God, you're beautiful," he breathed out.

"Shut up," you said bashfully, your heart beating faster under his intense gaze. There was a voice in the back of your head telling you that you weren't pretty enough for him, that he would hate how you looked, and that was why you preferred to fill the silence with easy jokes and stupid quips. It made it easier to silence that nagging part of you that thought you weren't good enough for him.

"No, I mean it," he insisted, his fingers slowly tracing the lace edging of your bra. "You're like, way too pretty to be real. I mean, look at you." There was a sincerity to his words that he couldn't fake, an edge of awe and pure unbridled devotion that made your head spin.

The way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, the way he touched you like he worshipped every inch of you—it was all overwhelming in the best possible way. It had you scrambling in your mind to say something, anything, even if that something was a dumb dick joke.

"I bet you're thinking about saying something stupid, aren't you?" he asked, a knowing smirk on his face as he leaned down to pepper kisses over your collarbones and down the swell of your cleavage.

"I never say anything stupid," you breathed out, as he kissed the skin that wasn't hidden behind your bra. It made your heart flutter that he knew you so well, but it also made you realize how awfully predictable you were.

"Uh huh and I'm the Queen of England," he retorted sarcastically, reaching up to slide one of your bra straps down your shoulder, kissing the bare sliver of skin that was revealed.

"Oh my God, you are?" You gasped, his remark loading you with the perfect ammunition to say something stupid. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, your highness."

"Mmm, flattery will get you everywhere," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as he continued to kiss and touch you, slipping your other strap off. He slowly unhooked your bra, his eyes meeting yours as he paused, asking for silent permission. You bit the inside of your cheek nervously before nodding.

He pulled your bra off almost instantly, his gaze sweeping over your bare chest. You felt so vulnerable beneath his gaze, resisting the urge to cover yourself. "Okay, your turn, pretty boy," you swiftly said, trying to ease your nerves and figuring you might be a little more comfortable if you weren't the only half-naked one.

"Yes, ma'am," He smirked, leaning back to pull his own shirt off, revealing his muscular chest. You couldn't help but stare, eyes roaming over his abs and the way his muscles flexed as he tossed his shirt aside. He settled back over you, his hands sliding up your sides. "Better?"

"You are annoyingly hot," you huffed, finding it completely unfair that someone as perfect as him could even exist, let alone be on top of you right now.

"Aw, you're just saying that because you want in my pants," he teased, his hands sliding up your sides to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples. "But I can't blame you, I am pretty irresistible." He leaned down, swallowing the small gasp you let out at his touch as he captured your mouth in a deep, heated kiss.

"That's slander," you mumbled into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and curling your fingers into his hair as you pulled him closer.

"Mmm, then sue me," he murmured against your lips before trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck, slowly making his way to your chest.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his soft lips on your skin. He was ridiculously skilled with his mouth, knowing exactly how and where to kiss you to drive you crazy. "Yknow what, maybe I will," you retorted breathlessly, your chest rising and falling a little faster.

"I think we can come to some sort of settlement out of court," He paused, his hot breath washing over your skin before he slowly, deliberately wrapped his lips around one of your peaks, swirling his tongue around it. "What do you think?"

Your lips parted at the feeling, intaking a sharp breath of air. "Uh, yeah, yknow that could work maybe," you grinned, your fingers gently tugging at his hair as he ravished your tits with attention.

"Mmm, I thought it might," he hummed with a cocky grin, switching to give equal attention to your other breast, your back arching ever so slightly, urging him closer. He smirked against your skin, making his way lower and leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. His hands slid down your sides to your hips, fingers curling around the waistband of your pants.

"Hey, wait, I don't want to be naked first," you protested, only half joking. You would rather die than be fully naked in front of him while he sits there with his clothes on.

"Oh, trust me, I have no intention of leaving my pants on any longer than necessary," He assured you with a mischievous grin, slowly unbuttoning your jeans, his knuckles brushing against your skin.

"Yeah, 'cause you're a freak," you grinned, moving on to the making fun of your boyfriend portion of the program in an attempt to soothe the pit of nausea in your stomach. You were kind of scared, not that you wanted to be lame and admit that.

"Hey, I resent that," He protested, but his tone conveyed the opposite message as he tugged your jeans and underwear down your legs in one smooth, expert motion, his gaze never leaving yours. "I'm just enthusiastic, that's all."

"Enthusiastically a whore," you snorted, letting your head fall back, staring at the ceiling. You'd really rather not see yourself naked right now, not with the amount of anxiety already coursing through your veins. You did not need a reminder of what Rafe was seeing.

"Whore?" He teased, his fingers dancing along your inner thighs. "I think you mean an amazing boyfriend who loves you and wants to make you feel good."

You hummed thoughtfully. "Uh, no, I'm pretty sure I mean whore," you grinned, reluctantly looking down at him despite yourself.

"Well, this whore is about to rock your world," He smirked, slowly trailing kisses up your inner thigh, gripping your hips. "Just relax and let me do all the work." His voice was low and seductive, his intentions clear.

"You're such an idiot," you laughed at his cheesy choice of words, a little nervous that the witty banter would have to be put on hold. He can't exactly respond to your sarcastic remarks with his mouth occupied.

He hummed, his breath hot against your core. Your breathing picked up, and you were unsure whether it was anticipation or if you were on the verge of a panic attack.

He slowly dragged his tongue along your slit, groaning at your taste on his tongue and the subsequent gasp that fell from your lips, making his painfully hard cock twitch in his jeans. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them further apart and opening you up to him. He had dreamed of this moment, imagined this exact scenario about a half a dozen times as he got himself off, and now that it was actually happening, he was going to relish every moment.

He began to eat you out like a man starved, his tongue delving deep inside your tight heat, familiarizing himself with every inch of you. His nose nudged at your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that pulled a low whine from your throat. Your fingers threaded into his hair, moaning at the unfamiliar pleasure.

His fingers replaced his tongue, his mouth moving up to the sensitive bundle of nerves and sucking it into his mouth, determined to send you over the edge. He pushed his fingers deep inside and curled them, finding that spot that made your back arch and your hips buck against his mouth.

"Rafe," his name left your lips a breathy whimper as your head fell back against his pillows. Rafe was no stranger to having women under him, writhing and moaning his name, but something about it being you made him crazy. It took all his self-control not to blow his load in his pants right there and then.

He redoubled his efforts, eager to make you cum, rubbing that sweet spot inside you with ruthless precision and sucking on your clit, his tongue swirling around your sensitive nub. Another moan fell from your lips, your grip on his hair bordering on painful as you felt your orgasm wash over you, your legs practically shaking at the intense pleasure.

He groaned as he felt you spasm around his fingers, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. He slowly pulled away, grinning as he took in your dazed expression. He carefully slipped his fingers from your quivering hole, bringing them to his mouth. He couldn't help the moan that rumbled low in his throat as he tasted you on his tongue. God, you were perfect.

His eyes flicked up to yours as his tongue darted out to lick his lips clean. "Good, huh?" He asked, his tone smug. He knew it had been good, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"I'm gonna slap that stupid look off your face," you playfully rolled your eyes, your skin practically burning up with embarrassment.

"I think that would take our case from a civil lawsuit to a criminal assault charge," he grinned, calling back to your previous joke about taking him to court. He positioned himself over you again to press his lips against yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

"It's my first offense and a misdemeanor," you mumbled into the kiss, cupping his face. "Worst I'll get is a fine, so... totally worth it."

"Okay, smartass," he pulled away, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, gazing down at you lovingly.

"Just saying," you smiled softly up at him, his hair falling into his face and his blue eyes sparkling. He really loved you, and it was evident just from the way he looked at you. He'd never felt anything like it before. He loved you so much it terrified him.

But, of course, you had to ruin the moment of peace because shutting up was not something you were wired to do, especially not in the face of such charged silence. "Your little friend is poking me again," you blurted out the words before you could stop yourself. Little friend? You really couldn't have come up with anything else?

Rafe couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips as he rocked his hips against you, making you gasp softly. "He's just happy to see you." His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned down at you, his fingers absently tracing along your side.

"Okay, well, can you tell him I don't really know him like that, so maybe he should calm down a little bit," you couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but you loved it, and you loved him. He understood you in a way you never thought you'd be understood by anyone.

"He says he's not planning on staying a stranger for much longer," he smirked, his hips rolling against yours.

"This is actually so stupid," you giggled, your hand covering your mouth as you laughed beneath him.

"Oh, now it's stupid?" He rolled his eyes, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. "You're the one who started it."

"Shut up," you smiled, leaning up to kiss him. "Okay, okay, you can... start now, I guess," you said awkwardly. There was only so long that you could stall with stupid dick jokes. Besides, you felt a little bad that he had been so patient and undoubtedly, extremely hard.

"About time," he murmured with faux annoyance, his voice low as he fiddled with his belt buckle and pulled it through the loops, tossing it aside before popping the button on his jeans and slowly unzipping them.

You sucked in a breath, trying to calm your nerves as the sound of him pulling his jeans off seemed to echo through the room. You wanted this. You knew you did, but you couldn't help the pit of fear in your stomach.

He paused, feeling your body tense beneath him as you took a deep breath, a sign he knew all too well. "Hey, look at me," he coaxed softly, cupping your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do. We can wait if you're not ready. Just tell me to stop, and I will, no questions asked, no hard feelings. We can just forget all about it," he reassured you.

Your heart fluttered as you heard your boyfriend's words, meeting his gaze and seeing the sincerity behind his eyes. "No, I- I want to. I'm just... scared, yknow," you bit your lip nervously, mentally kicking yourself. You always seemed to be scared. There probably wasn't a single thing in the world that you weren't scared of.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," he soothed, pressing gentle kisses to your face, your neck, your collarbone—anywhere he could reach. "There's nothing wrong with being scared. It's your first time. If you weren't scared, that would be a little concerning."

You laughed softly at his words. "You just make sure you wrap it up. I don't know where you've been," you joked. "Safe sex is great sex as the Lil Wayne once wisely said."

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Lil Wayne, huh? I didn't know he moonlighted as a sex ed teacher." He reached into his bedside table, pulling out a foil packet and waving it in front of your face. "But don't worry, I'm always prepared."

"Jesus, that's a lot of condoms," you said, peering into his drawer and seeing way more condoms than you realistically thought one person would need. "You are a whore of massive proportions. Like, literally a menace to the female population."

"Oh, hush," he grinned, tearing open the packet and rolling the latex down over his length. "I bought them in bulk. You know, for... emergencies," He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaning back down to press kisses to your skin once more.

"Eugh," you giggled, your face scrunching up in disgust. "I genuinely do not want to know what a sex emergency is."

"Hey, a guy's gotta be prepared, okay?" He murmured against your neck, his breath warm. "Now, are you going to keep talking, or are you going to let me kiss you and calm you the hell down?"

"Yo, I am literally so calm," you rolled your eyes, lying through your teeth in the name of comedy and also not sounding like the total little loser virgin you were. "So calm and so chill. Literally have never been calmer or chiller in my life."

"Uh-huh," he hummed, clearly unconvinced as he pressed a soft kiss to your jaw, his fingers slowly trailing down your side, his touch gentle. "Because nothing says 'calm and chill' like sex jokes and rambling like you're on speed."

"Well, I can't help that I'm the funniest person alive," you argued, the realization dawning on you that you were naked, and he was naked, which meant there was only so many more sex jokes you could make before the sex actually commenced.

"You're not even in the top five funniest people I know," he teased, his fingers reaching your hip as he slowly pulled you closer, the heat of his body pressing against yours.

"Oh, you got jokes, huh?" You grinned, nervously giggling when you felt his tip nudge at your entrance. "You better take that back if you wanna get laid tonight."

"I think I'll stick with my original statement," he said, his voice low and husky as he pressed forward, the head of his dick pushing into you slowly as he rubbed soothing circles on your hip. "You're just not funny enough to make the cut, sweetheart."

You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth, wincing at the painful sensation. You grabbed his bicep for support, digging your nails into his arm. "Liar," you joked weakly, your chest heaving as you breathed through the intrusion.

"Shh, just breathe," he whispered against your neck, his voice low and soothing as he paused, letting you adjust to the foreign feeling. "You're doing so good, baby. You're taking it like a champ."

"Okay, don't call me champ while you're inside me," you grimaced, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted as you slowly adjusted to having him inside you.

"You okay, baby?" He asked softly, pushing the slightest bit further into you as he examined your reaction closely.

"Oh, yeah, just peachy," you said sarcastically. The pain was gradually starting to fade, making the whole thing more enjoyable by the second. Though, the pressure between your thighs was intense.

"Mhm, you're a real ray of sunshine," he chuckled softly, pushing the rest of the way into you, his body shuddering as he bottomed out. He was as deep as he could go, his hips flush against yours.

You gasped as he pressed all the way into you, your grip on his bicep tightening. "You're gonna look like you got mauled by a lion after this," you panted out, apologetic for the involuntary response.

"I'd wear that badge of honor proudly," he said, his voice thick with amusement as he slowly began to move, his hips rolling against yours in a gentle, soothing rhythm. "Now, shut up and let me make love to you."

"Don't say 'make love' either. That's so gross," you giggled softly, a breathy moan falling from your lips as he set a slow, pleasurable pace.

"Then what would you prefer I call it?" He murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued his steady movements, the friction building between your bodies. "'Coitus'? 'Intercourse'? 'Fucking'?" He punctuated each word with a sharp thrust of his hips.

You moaned, your head falling back against the pillows and brows pinching in pleasure. Okay, you were definitely starting to see what all the fuss was about. "Let's just not refer to what's happening right now as anything at all."

"Mhm, I can work with that," he hummed, his pace picking up slightly as he felt you start to relax more, your body welcoming his thrusts. "Just focus on how good it feels, baby. Let me take care of you."

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours and kissing you deeply as he continued to fuck you with a pace that demonstrated his love and devotion to you. He never thought he would be one for slow, romantic sex, but he didn't think he was into a lot of things before he met you. You had a way of making him discover things about himself he was completely clueless to.

As he kissed you, he slowly shifted his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts to hit that particularly sensitive spot inside you. He felt you tense up, a sharp gasp escaping your lips into the kiss, and he smiled against your mouth. "You like that, huh?"

"You're such an ass," you grinned, your fingers curling into his hair, back arching into him as his tip continued to hit that spongy spot inside you, the pressure low in your abdomen building.

"Maybe so, but you love it," he smirked against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips as he increased his pace, his hips snapping forward in a steady rhythm. "And you're gonna come for me again, baby. Aren't you?"

Your mouth fell open in pleasure, your breath hot against his lips. "uh huh," you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut. He was a cocky motherfucker, but he was hot and he put up with your shit, so it was only fair you put up with his in return.

"That's my girl," he purred, one hand sliding down to rub tight circles on your clit as he continued his relentless pace. "Come on, baby. Let me feel you. I want to watch you fall apart for me."

You gasped sharply at the added stimulation, his name leaving your lips in a whine as you tensed around him, sent over the edge for the second time.

He groaned as he felt your walls clench around him, the sensation of you practically choking his dick sending him into his own release. "Fuck, you feel so good," he panted, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself into the condom with a low moan of your name.

Your walls pulsed around him as you slowly came down from your high, relaxing into the mattress. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, your whole body on fire and coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

He collapsed on top of you with a satisfied hum, peppering gentle kisses along your neck and collarbone as he softened inside you. "I love you, you know that?"

"Good 'cause otherwise this would be pretty awkward," you laughed breathlessly, gently raking your nails over his scalp soothingly. "But, seriously, I love you too," you added quietly after a beat of silence.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed /

[heich0e]

"so... how's work?"

you accidentally click the edge of your wine glass against your teeth as you tip it back, jarred by the strange question from the man standing at your side. you swallow the tiny mouthful of wine you manage to sip, turning to look at suna in bewilderment.

"work?" you ask him incredulously. "why are you asking me about work?"

suna rintarou doesn't care about what you do for work. truthfully speaking, you're not sure he even knows what you do for work—you certainly don't remember ever telling him, and the memory would stand out quite starkly considering all you ever seem to do when you run into him is bicker with him uselessly.

suna is a friend of a friend. or a friend of some friend's ex. or something. all you know is that every so often the two of you end up at the same social event, and there's something about the guy's face that just... makes you want to pick a fight.

and he has yet to turn down your instigation.

your friends all think it's funny—like you're some kind of comedy duo, and this is your special bit—but you don't see the charm in the slightest. you suspect they've started inviting you both to events just to have some entertainment.

"what?" rintarou asks, fiddling with his cellphone in his hand—pinching it between his thumb and his ring finger while he twirls it with his index. "i'm not allowed to ask about work? isn't that normal small talk for a christmas party?"

you're a little taken aback by his words. first of all, because he's right (which you hate). second of all, because he seems strangely defensive about it.

"normal for other people, maybe," you mutter, more to yourself than anything, before taking another tiny sip of wine. you swallow it, but somehow it doesn't help the dry feeling in your mouth. you're not sure you like this particular wine, you think, as bitterness clings to your tongue. "work is... fine."

suna perks up beside you at that, and you feel his eyes on your profile like he's waiting for you to go on.

"things get, uh... things get slow this time of year, so I'm mostly just answering stupid emails and ordering gifts online while i sit at my desk." you swirl the glass of wine in your hand, watching the way that the light catches in the deep red surface. "my section chief has kids and loves the holidays, so she's been pretty checked-out lately, herself. makes it easy to get away with slacking off."

you risk a glance over at him, and are somewhat dismayed to find him listening intently.

"must be nice to get a little break," he offers.

"yeah, i guess," you reply. your words are in agreement with him, but still your brow furrows.

what the fuck is going on?

you look around the room, as though checking for a hidden camera, or some other sign that might give away what the hell this guy's motives are. but around you is simply a room of friends enjoying each other's company—sipping drinks; eating finger foods the hosts had been carefully set out to graze on; chatting amongst each other about their lives, their holiday sweaters, their work.

everything seems totally normal, other than what's transpiring in the quiet corner where you and suna rintarou find yourselves standing side by side.

"how is... your... work?" you manage to ask, though it sounds as though the question is pulled from you with considerable effort. stiff and strained in every way a question so innocuous doesn't have any right to be.

suna laughs a little under his breath, masks it with a clearly fake cough, and then rests his hand over his mouth. he's smirking. you know he is. he's revelling in every second of your discomfort like the twisted little freak he is.

you're about to tell him as much, but he cuts you off.

"it's good," he replies to your pained question with an unexpected sincerity. "we're coming up to the half-way point in the season, so training is still pretty intense. we do get a day off for the holiday though."

right, he's a volleyball player. you'd learned that upon your first meeting, before your opinion of him was quite so hostile. you remember thinking at the time that he looked like a volleyball player—tall, lean, with big hands that made the beer can he'd been holding look almost laughably small in comparison.

you glance down at those hands again, still idly fidgeting with his cellphone. he's not drinking a beer tonight, and you wonder if maybe it's because he's in the middle of his season.

you think about asking him.

but you don't.

suna seems to be waiting for you to say more, but when you don't, he continues on the conversation himself. "i thought about taking the train to hyogo for the day, but it wouldn't really make sense just to go visit for a few hours."

you take another sip of your wine. you decide that you do not in fact enjoy it.

you hum a bit, ditching your mostly full glass on the edge of a table that rests within reach. "tough to just make a day trip, especially since the weather's so..." you trail off, gesturing vaguely with your now empty hand in a way that's supposed to indicate the unreliability of the winter climate.

suna laughs.

you look at him in confusion.

"the weather?" he asks you, rubbing at his mouth again like he trying to hide the expression underneath his fingertips. it might work if his eyes didn't crinkle at the corner when he smiles. "we're talking about the weather now?"

your lips part indignantly at his jibe. he's the one who'd initiated this hellscape of small talk, and now he had the nerve to chide you for it?

"oh, i'm sorry," you guffaw, feigning remorse, "is there some pressing matter you'd rather discuss?"

rintarou dips closer to you from his greater height, and the fact that he's so much taller than you are only irritates you more.

"there is actually," he says with a nod.

"oh, yeah?" you roll your eyes, gearing up for a fight. you turn to face him properly, tilting your chin up to meet him eye to eye without wavering. "and what's that?"

"are you aware that we've been standing under mistletoe for the entirety of this conversation?"

you slowly look overhead.

like something out of a horror film, you find that for once in his life (or at least the few months you've known him) suna's chosen to say something factual. overhead, a little bundle of mistletoe has been affixed to the ceiling with a piece of tape that seems to barely be hanging on—the decoration at risk of falling at any moment.

you feel sick.

"so what?" you ask him, swallowing down that feeling of dread and maintaining (what you hope is) an air of indifference.

"so that means we're supposed to kiss," he tells you matter-of-factly, almost a bit pointedly, like he can't believe you didn't know.

"i'm aware of that," you hiss. "i don't, however, bend to the whims of plants, as a general rule."

"weird rule," he remarks, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

you feel a throb of irritation behind your eyes.

"you're the one who came over here to bother me," you point out. "if you knew there was mistletoe hanging up there, that means this is your fault."

suna shrugs a bit.

you keep going, your pulse thrumming beneath your tongue and fanning the flames of irritation churning in the pit of your stomach.

"if anything, that makes you the weird one for coming up with some scheme to trick me. we're not children. if you wanted to kiss me so bad you could have just aske—"

"can i kiss you?"

what?

"i asked if i can kiss you," rintarou says, and you're not sure if that means you voiced your thought aloud or it was just plainly written across your face. he inches closer to you, and though you would usually shift away to accommodate for the intrusion, the table where you'd discarded your glass of wine keeps you mostly trapped in place. pinned. cornered. "you said that if i wanted to kiss you, i should ask. so, i'm asking if i can kiss you."

why?

suna sighs after a moment of contemplating the look of abject shock on your features, slumping forward and resting his forehead on the wall beside your head, caging you against the wall with his lanky frame. you can't breathe with him this close—too startled by the proximity and the warmth radiating from him to even think about drawing air into your lungs. too confused by this entire situation to meet your basic human needs.

"you really don't get it, do you?" he asks quietly. he's so near that you feel his words more than you hear them—especially since they were spoken so quietly just next to your ear.

"get what?" your own voice sounds distant—sounds strange—to you when you finally manage to speak.

suna pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, and you're shocked to see just how pink his face is. he looks mortified—and desperate—as his eyes find yours. he tilts his face towards you, and when he speaks again you feel the warmth of his breath break against your lips.

"you're the only person in this room who i'd enjoy listening to talk about the weather."

and it's not until much later, when the lingering bitterness from the wine has been replaced by something much sweeter (though entirely unexpected) on your tongue, that you realize rintarou was the only person in the room tall enough to reach the ceiling.

a/n: for nana, who forced me to write this entirely against my will but whom i love dearly in spite of it

[joels-shitty-puns]

Could I make a request please?

Either a Joel or Pedro x Reader, where he is head over heels for the reader who is really bubbly and sweet and happy and a mom friend for everyone but who is oblivious to any romantic overtures whatsoever? And where Joel or Pedro catch them crying for the first time ever and they try and hide it and go back to cooking for the friend group or whatever and Joel/Pedro get the reader to open up about what made them cry and essentially it's that someone turned them down on a dating app and it's just further confirmation that the reader will never find love or actually be a mom? Plus-sized reader preferred but definitely not required? And your choice on if it's smutty or not.

I've been reading your plus sized reader x Pedro series and loving it!!! So much emotion and genuine positivity that I couldn't help but ask for more when I felt a bit down about this today.

All my best!

Dear @jenniferpendragon,

Hi!!! I've never had a request before, I didn't know what to do with myself. Thank you. And thank you so much for your kind words about my musician fic! I'm so glad people like it.

I'm sorry you were feeling down today. If by "this" you mean you experienced the dating app situation, I'm so sorry. Love is out there for you. I know how hard it is to wait, feeling like nobody wants you, but I know it'll happen. Hang in there. ❤️

I hope you like this fic! I liked your prompt and my mind ran wild. It's way longer than I thought it would be and also I'm unsure about it, but hopefully it makes you feel a little better.

___________

Cookies 'n Scream

Pairing: No-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Plus-sized!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!! MDNI. Poor body image, fat shaming, food guilt, food mentions, unprotected P in V, oral, kissing, fingering, pregnancy mention, baby making sex (?), I think that's all of it but if I missed something let me know.

Other stuff: Reader is AFAB. In case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

This is the first smut I've ever written and published, yikes. Hope it's decent.

__________

"Look what I bought today," you chimed in a sing-song voice while waving the DVD in front of Joel. 

"No way. Zombie Slayer 6?!" Joel and Tommy yelled in unison.

"Yep! You know it!" you beamed. "I say tonight we pop this bad boy in. Tomorrow's Halloween, it's perfect."

"YES!" chimed in Sarah and Ellie, Joel's daughter and adopted daughter, roughly the same ages in their early teens.

"Absolutely not! You two are too young for this gore, you'll be up for weeks." Maria pointedly gave an eyebrow to her husband Tommy. "You guys watch the movie, I'll take the kids and we have a girl's night. We can watch Practical Magic and make cookies. Then tomorrow we'll all go trick-or-treating." The girls were pleased with this compromise and began running up to their bedrooms, chatting frantically about their costumes and which houses were allegedly going to have full-size candy bars this year.

"Really? Zombie movies? They're just kids. They aren't old enough to deal with that kind of thing," Maria said to you, judging your lack of parenting skills.

"Sorry…" you said sheepishly.

Truthfully, Halloween was your favorite holiday and always has been. You loved the spooky aspect of it, but you also loved that you could be anyone you wanted, if only for a night. For once you weren't just "the fat girl" or whatever other mean things people thought about you. You could be Wonder-Woman, or Ariel, the Grim Reaper, or a ghost. You could even eat all the sugary snacks you wanted and nobody questioned it, because Halloween was a time to indulge in candy.

If there's one thing you're sad you didn't get to enjoy on Halloween, it was the thought of being with someone you love. You'd always wanted someone to dress up in a couples costume together. Or go to a pumpkin patch for a cute little date and pick pumpkins together. You'd even dreamed about someday having a little pumpkin of your own. Picking out a little baby costume, taking them out door to door while they tried to say "trick or treat" but didn't quite know how to say such big words yet. The thought of them getting spooked by a scary decoration and running back to their daddy's arms. Your handsome brave husband, holding them close and shushing them, rubbing their little back to make it all okay. Finally the three of you would go home, tuck the little one in, sort through the candy and maybe take some for the parent tax. Then you'd flop down on the bed together before sharing a different kind of treat.

Knocking you out of your daydream, the girls ran down the stairs, backpacks on their backs, still loudly chatting about Halloween. You sighed, Maria taking the kids out towards her house.

Tommy clapped his hands together excitedly and grabbed his phone and keys. "I'm picking us up a pizza. You two better not start this damn movie without me," he warned, gesturing with his fingers from his eyes to yours and then across to his brother's before ducking out the door. You laughed and headed towards the kitchen, starting to make a quick batch of cookies before Tommy returned. Joel stood awkwardly trying to help, but mainly was just sneaking bites of dough. "Knock it off Joel! There won't be any cookies left with you around." You elbowed him while he popped another glob into his mouth with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes while he argued with you. "Whatever. My brother doesn't need these cookies anyway. He doesn't deserve your bakin', darlin'." He ate more dough.

You couldn't help but feel your chest flutter with butterflies at his nickname, but you tried to ignore them. "Oh yeah, and what about me?" You pouted up at him. "Don't I deserve any cookies?" 

He put his finger on his lip as if deep in thought. "Hmmm… I dunno darlin'. Not sure if I could handle you if you get much sweeter." He winked.

"But I guess you deserve some too.." he plopped a wad of dough into your mouth, running his finger on your lip as he pulled his hand away. 

You smiled, cheeks feeling warm, and chewing the soft, sugary dough.

"Oh, Joel. You're too much.." you avoided his eyes, looking down at the mixer and pretending to be busy with the cookies. 

Why can't I get a man like Joel? You thought to yourself.

Two years ago, you had moved into your new house and met your neighbors, Tommy and Maria, Maria still very pregnant at the time. The three of you became fast friends and it wasn't long before you met Tommy's brother Joel. You were instantly enamored with him. His curly brown hair, mixed with silvery gray streaks, and those deep, gorgeous chocolate brown eyes. Although he could be a grump at times, it was mainly with his brother or his job, and he never showed it towards you. To you he was as sweet as the cookies you were eating.

You instantly developed a little crush on him and it seemed like he was over at his brother's house, or yours, more often than not. The two of you spent time together alone as well, watching movies, talking, doing whatever. Things felt so simple with him, and you knew he would always be there if you needed help with anything. With him, you never felt fat. You never felt ugly. You didn't feel self-conscious. You were just you. He was just him. 

As your friendship progressed, your crush developed quickly into love. But you knew deep down there was no way he could ever feel the same. He was too handsome and charming to ever go for a woman like you, so you pushed down your feelings as best as you could, and even tried some dating apps to try and find someone else to fill the empty space in your heart.

What you didn't know was that Joel was absolutely head-over-heels, smitten with you, from the moment he laid eyes on you at his brother's backyard barbecue. Sure he loved his brother, but nobody wants to spend that much time at their sibling's house. He came over constantly, hoping to see you, until eventually you became close enough that he didn't have to make a scene at his brother's house to get your attention. He could just go to yours. 

Tommy constantly teased him about it, and Maria couldn't help but notice the way you looked at Joel either. Even the kids could tell. The girls loved you like a mother, though you'd never see it. It seemed that it was obvious to everyone but you and him. Joel would flirt, try to gently touch you, be sweet, but you never picked up on it. Although you never pushed away his attempts, you never seemed to reciprocate either, so Joel just figured you didn't like him that way. But he couldn't help flirting, touching, staring at you. And if you didn't protest, he didn't plan to stop. He couldn't if he tried.

While the two of you talked, the cookies, what was left of them, baked in the oven. Finally Tommy came in, two large pizzas in hand. "Now I better not see that movie playing! I warned you two."

He noticed the black television screen and wandered to the kitchen. "Good. You waited for me- oh man! You made cookies? My favorite," he said with grabby hands towards the first pan, still cooling on the stove. 

"Now, don't spoil your dinner. You just brought pizza home, let's eat." You shot a knowing look with Joel after the two of you were practically full already with cookie dough.

"Fine. Whatever, mom." Tommy took a plate from you, sliding a piece of pizza onto his plate and heading towards the couch.

_____ 

An hour into the movie, you were all full with pizza and dessert, Tommy in the sofa chair on the side, you and Joel settled into the love seat. You leaned towards his right side, his right arm over the back of your seat. A blanket covered the two of you, and his left hand was crossed over his lap on top of the blanket, hoping you would hold it if you got scared. Whenever a jump scare did happen, you didn't grab for him, but at the slightest flinch, he would palm your knee, rubbing his thumb over you to calm you down. Such a nice guy. I'm so lucky to have him as my friend.

Once when Joel did this, Tommy caught the sight out of the corner of his vision. He rolled his eyes and gave a gagging face. Joel gave him a quick angry brother stare that made Tommy turn back toward the film.

At some point, you felt your pocket buzz. Peering under the blanket at your screen, you saw the little heart notification, letting you know it was one of the dating apps you downloaded. Heart beating faster, you excused yourself saying you wanted to get a drink. Upon entering the kitchen, you quickly opened the notification with shaky hands. You had sent out at least a half dozen matches to people, all turned down the second they saw your profile. The most recent had sent a message as well. "Seriously? Ur gross. Good luck finding anyone to date you lmao." Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked down at your body and pinched the fat of your stomach. You had four apps and had sent countless requests, matches, and swipes. Even guys who were big themselves had turned you down. You looked in the kitchen at the pile of cookies, the mostly empty pizza boxes, the bowl of Halloween candy. If the boys weren't here, you'd toss it all in the trash. You suddenly felt self-conscious. Your clothes were tight, your body was heavy and flabby, and you almost felt nauseous. The first sting of tears welled at your eyes, and you dashed off to your bedroom, hoping to quell these emotions before anyone would notice. You weren't ready to go back to the living room.

After a couple minutes, Joel had paused the TV to wait for your return. "She probably had to pee or something. Said she was gettin' a drink." Tommy nodded and the two of them talked. After about ten minutes had passed, Joel began to worry. Even Tommy began to wonder and finally said "where'd your girlfriend end up? It's been a while."

Joel shook his head at Tommy's name for you, but got up off the couch. "I'll go see what's up." He walked into the kitchen and didn't see you, so he kept walking through the house before finally starting upstairs. "Darlin'? You okay?" He still didn't see you, but upon approaching your bedroom door, he heard a soft sniffle.

He gently tapped on the door with his index finger's knuckle. "Sweetheart?" Your sniffling stopped and you quickly wiped your eyes, trying to hide your tears as he slowly opened the door.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to make you guys wait, I was just changing into some comfier clothes." He noticed you had switched from your favorite dress to some sweats and a baggy hoodie. You still looked beautiful to him, though he was a bit confused at the change. "I'll be right down, why don't you go start the movie again." He crossed the room to sit next to you on the bed. "I'm not going to start the movie. What's wrong, darlin'?" 

You pouted, trying to choke back more tears, but his gentle brown eyes made it hard to keep your emotions inside. Joel cupped your cheek, running his thumb gently under your eyes and catching a tear that made it past your walls. You'd never cried in front of Joel before. You made it a goal of yours to try and hide any sad emotions from people, especially him.

"I don't want to ruin the night, Joel. It's nothing. Let's just go back downstairs. I'll be right behind you."

Joel stood up and nodded his head, walking out the door and closing it gently behind him. 

You didn't think he'd actually leave. But it shouldn't surprise you. Who wouldn't leave you?

An aggressive sob ripped through your chest.

_____

Joel walked downstairs, joining his brother.

"You find her?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah I did. Look, she's not feeling too good right now. I think it's best we call it a night."

"Ah, man. She sick or somethin'?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah somethin' like that. I'll stay and take care of her. Can you maybe keep the kids tonight?" Joel answered, ushering Tommy out the door. Tommy gave him a look, but nodded and walked out the door towards his own house.

Joel closed the door behind him and walked back upstairs, stopping to grab a glass of water for you on the way. He knocked gently again before entering your bedroom, and you turned around, surprised to see him. "Joel? I thought you were watching the movie?"

"Nah, darlin' I could never leave you when you're upset. I sent Tommy home and he's gonna watch the girls tonight. Here, I brought you some water." He sat the water on the nightstand. "Now, you wanna tell me why you're cryin'?" He sat next to you, rubbing your back gently.

You took a sip of the water, set it back down on the nightstand, and sighed, looking down at your hands in your lap which held your cell phone.

"Well, I uh…" you cleared your throat gently. "I recently joined some dating apps..."

Joel's heart took a slight stab, but he pushed it down. You're the one needing comfort, not him.

"I guess, I dunno… I know it's kinda silly, but I've been feeling kinda lonely and y'know... I'm getting older. I'm running out of time to have babies. But, I really just want someone to call mine. Someone to laugh with and go on dates with and…" you tapered off, not wanting to admit your desire for cuddles, kisses, and love-making. 

"Oh, sweet girl," he held you in his arms. "That's nothing to feel shy or silly about. It's natural to want those things. But why are you cryin'? Did somethin' happen?"

"I just… I haven't gotten any matches. Everyone I've sent anything to has denied me, and-" you sniffled and Joel pulled you tighter. "Shh, shh, sweet girl, it's okay. Those people on those apps, they don't know what they're missin' out on. They don't see how beautiful and sweet y'are. They wouldn't know how to treat you right anyway. If they can't see how wonderful you are, they don't deserve to be with ya anyway."

"Thank you Joel…" you muttered. "But… it's not just that. I got a message when we were watching the movie and I went into the kitchen to read it, and-" you handed him your phone with a sniffle. Joel pulled away from you, holding the phone back a bit to read it with his bad vision. As he read it, his jaw and fists clenched. It may have been the first time Joel saw you cry, but it was also the first time Joel got angry when it was just the two of you.

"If I knew where this asshole little boy lived, I'd go over there right now and kick his ass for saying something like that to you" he seethed. "I can't believe anyone would say something like that to you."

You picked at a hangnail on your finger, still staring at your lap. Finally Joel took a breath and looked at you again. "Darlin'. You don't - you don't believe that guy do you?" He asked while rubbing your back again.

"Maybe…" you felt tears run down your cheeks. "I mean, he's right, isn't he? I'm not attractive or skinny. Nobody wants me, not even any of these guys on this app. Even the guys who aren't skinny don't want me either."

"Sweetheart. That's just not true. Look at me-" he lifted your chin with his left hand, right arm still holding you close. You hesitantly met his gaze, your wet eyes looking into his gentle browns. "Those men, if you even wanna call them that, they wouldn't know what beautiful was if it slapped them across the face. You're the most beautiful, sweet, funny woman I've ever met. Any man would be lucky to have you." He took a deep breath before admitting, "I'd be lucky to have you."

"What-?" You interrupted him.

"Darlin'... I never want to push your boundaries, but you don't see how often I flirt with you, tease you, and touch you? You don't see how smitten I am with you?" You frowned, brows furrowing as you picked through your memory. "I thought you were just a nice guy. Just a friend. I didn't… I didn't think you could ever like me as more than a friend, so I just ignored the butterflies I got around you." 

You searched his eyes, waiting for a joke, or your alarm to go off and wake you up from this dream.

"Sweetheart, I've been in love with you since just about the time I saw you walk across my brother's lawn towards me. I just figured y'wasn't interested in me that way."

"Joel," you laughed. "I've felt the same way."

He smiled, once again tilting your chin, yet this time pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle, but held so much love and meaning, that the two of you couldn't help but smile in the middle of it. He pulled away, "and by the way, y'aren't old either. If anyone's old here, it's me. But if you want babies, I'll give you all the babies you want. But you already got two girls who love you. Sometimes I think they even love y'more than me," he laughed.

You smiled at him and nodded "I do love those girls like they're my own. But I would still like a little baby someday too."

He kissed you again, more passionately this time, licking your lip until you opened up and let your tongues dance together. He pulled away, running his nose across your jaw before stopping at your ear. "Only one way to give you that, darlin'." He gently bit your earlobe before kissing down your neck. 

You sighed. "Joel… please."

"Please, what darlin'?" He purred, kissing your clavicle through your baggy shirt. 

"Please, make love to me" you answered breathlessly, tipping your head back so he could better access your neck. 

"Take these baggy clothes off then, baby. Lemme see you," he gave you one last kiss on the lips before the two of you began undressing, stopping every few seconds to share grabby kisses. Once undressed, he pulled you into him and kissed you deeply, your hands on his chest. With a swift move, he tumbled the two of you sideways so that you were now on the bed, him on his back and you straddling his hips. You leaned down, kissing his lips, while the slight movement against his waist caused you both to moan at the feeling. "Baby I've wanted this for so long. Let me take care of you," Joel whispered, thumb stroking your cheek. He flipped the two of you over, slithering down towards your waist, where you spread your legs for him. He groaned, looking at how evident it was you wanted him, pumping his already hard cock a few times. Flattening himself on his stomach, he gently touched your thighs and began to kiss your legs. "Y'sure you still want this, baby?" 

"Yes Joel, please" you answered, tense with anticipation. Without a beat, he tipped his head down, licking a stripe up your slit. You let out a sigh, hips bucking toward his face. "I know baby, I know." His low timbre vibrated through your core. He gave a quick peck to your clit before swirling his tongue around it and heading downwards, licking between your folds while his nose continued to put pressure on your clit.

His fingers slid through, touching your entrance in a questioning way. "Yes, Joel, please" you cried, wiggling closer, your hands tugging at his hair. 

With your pleas, he inserted his finger, curling upwards before adding a second and finally hitting that spot inside you that made your breathing catch in your chest. He stroked, while still licking gently, occasionally sucking on your clit. Before long you were gripping the sheets with one hand, his hair in your other, as you finally tumbled into your orgasm. "So beautiful, baby" he coaxed, licking you through the waves of pleasure. 

"Think you're ready for me?" He looked up at you over your plush tummy. "Yes, Joel, please I'm so ready."

He stalked over your body, kissing his way up. He kissed your vulva, "I love this," he purred. He kissed your stomach, running his hands across your sides. "I love this," he licked. "I love these," he massaged your breasts, kissing each nipple. "I love you" he finally looked you in the eyes, kissing you on the lips deeply. 

"I love you too." You kissed him back, running your hands through his messy hair, down his broad shoulders and back. His hand snaked around, grabbing his cock and giving a few strokes through your folds until he was wet enough. Finally he pushed against your entrance, slowly entering you, giving you enough time to adjust to his size. Your fingers clawed at his back as he finally pushed all the way in, the two of you sighing in relief. 

Your body adjusted, and with a kiss to his nose, you prompted him to move. "Okay Joel, I'm ready."

Slowly, he began to thrust, pulling slowly out and gently pushing back in, eventually picking up to a pleasurable pace. He kissed you like his lips couldn't be away for longer than a few seconds, and it didn't take much before you were barreling towards your second release of the evening. "I'm almost there, Joel" you kissed, grabbing him around his back. "Me too, baby. Come for me." His thrusts were getting sloppy, but you could tell he was holding himself back for you. His fingers drifted over your clit, giving a few circular strokes and causing you to shudder around him, your eyes slamming shut with a moan. He followed right behind you, a couple messy strokes before pumping into you, filling you up and working you both through it. As the two of you came down from your high, he kissed you passionately, holding you like you were the only thing in the world. 

The two of you lay on your sides, you snuggled into his chest, his chin resting on your head before eventually he became soft and slipped out of you. You both sighed at the loss, but held each other until you rolled out to use the restroom and clean up. When you returned from the bathroom, you asked if he wanted to stay and he said yes. 

You lent him an extra toothbrush and the two of you stood side by side, brushing your teeth and stealing glances at each other in the mirror with matching lovesick smiles. Things felt domestic and comfortable as the two of you walked back to bed, sharing soft kisses snuggled to each other. Having completely forgotten why you were upset earlier, you fell asleep curled into his arms, full of love and hope for the future with a man you loved. 

_____

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and breakfast cooking. You strolled down the stairs and saw Joel, wearing just his boxers and tee shirt, grabbing a slice of toast from the toaster. 

At the sound of your steps, he turned and smiled softly. "Morning, baby."

"Good morning, handsome," you replied, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

"I could get used to that," Joel replied, squeezing your ass and pulling his face away to look in your eyes.

"Joel! You devil," you giggled, gently smacking his arm. "You ain't seen nothing yet, baby" he nibbled your jaw.

After the two of you ate breakfast, you shared a shower, and he threw on a pair of extra clothes he keeps in his car. It would be hard to keep his visit a secret from his brother with his car still in your driveway, but as far as Tommy was concerned, you were sick and Joel was taking care of you.

The two of you made the walk over to Tommy's house to get the girls and participate in Halloween activities for the day. Walking in the door, Tommy pulled you into a hug. "Hey, we were worried about you! Are you feeling better? Were you sick?"

You looked up at Joel, sharing a knowing look. "I was just a little upset about something, but I'm feeling much better now," you smiled. 

Tommy gasped. "FINALLY!!!!" He threw his hands in the air while Maria grinned. 

"Cough it up Tommy!" Sarah held out her hand to her uncle. "You know I had October." He handed her a five dollar bill.

"You bet money on us?" Joel asked in disbelief, rubbing your back. 

"Obviously. You guys have both been pining since you first met," Ellie answered, rolling her eyes. "It was too entertaining for us to interfere though," Sarah added with a smirk.

You stared down at your shoes, feeling embarrassed, but Joel grabbed your hand. You smiled up at him and it felt like everything was aligned. "Yep, we finally took the step. And now I get to do this whenever I want," Joel pulled you into his arms for a deep kiss. 

"UGH. GROSS, DAD." Ellie and Sarah groaned, walking out of the room.

You both laughed, sharing a smile and heading towards the group to get ready for Halloween with your family.

[whenshesdown]

maybe it's just because i work in one so i'm biased, but thinking heavily about bookstore employee reader & jason todd. reader parked behind the cash register, bored as hell, when jason and stephanie pop up with a large pile of books and a healthy amount of useless knickknacks. (you know jason would collect special edition hardcovers for his most favorite reads). idk why but i feel like they would be unusually helpful when you're bagging the items. like steph grabs the bag out of your hand and starts putting things in herself? then when you bend down to get a larger bag for the other items jason somehow already got a hold of that bag and is already halfway through with putting everything else in. (or they bring their own reusable bags and that kind of nullifies this excerpt a bit lmao.)

steph is definitely the more talkative one of the two, holding conversation and trying to get jason involved since he's the more literary one, asking leading questions and also for recommendations from you. (steph may or may not be playing slight matchmaker. who's to say?)

near the end of the transaction, after them practically doing most of the work(that they're physically able to do), you're putting your hands on your hips like, 'i'm gonna get fired at this rate. why don't you guys just clock in already?' which earns a quiet snort from jason, or if you're lucky & he's feeling more chatty that day you get a snort + a quiet, 'think you'll be fine, sweetheart.' (also later on one of your coworkers is like 'that was kind of weird. do you think they were trying to steal something?') jason keeps coming back after that, and he tells himself it has nothing to do with getting another recommendation from you(god forbid he even broach the topic of maybe liking you just a little at this point) and everything with the excellent selection of special hardcover classics. truthfully, he never was one to go out to a bookstore that often(probably more of a library guy when he did. but in general i think jason doesn't prioritize doing fun things for himself esp depending on his era), but he finds himself passing through yours at least once a week. when he starts organically getting a feel for your schedule it's definitely only ever an accident that he tends to show up at the times you're most likely to be there. obviously, at some point you have to come out of the stock room with a huge pile of books, almost tripping & dropping your whole stack. he takes half of the stack and follows you to where you're going. you're intent on putting them away, and don't notice how he's kind of just awkwardly standing nearby until you catch him in your peripheral & decide to ask him what his latest read was. jason genuinely just loves literature in general. so even though the majority of his catalogue are classics(& almost evenly spread throughout every fictional genre, maybe an occasional nonfiction), he's definitely dipped his toes into some modern works if they pique his interest enough. if there's a display somewhere for employee current reads and/or recommendations, he always takes the time to look at yours, reading the back and skimming through some of the pages. i could genuinely probably yap about this forever but this is getting a little long so i'm gonna stop here. i would love to hear anybody else's thoughts and/or additions!

[hotchfiles]

first. damn your love.

pairing: james x fem!reader.

content warnings: james being kind of an ass, cheating on lily, lily will be probably shit talked (i luv her i'm very sorry !), reader being a lil side piece, uhhh cursing, pro quidditch player!james, not totally AU but like... canon divergent i would say, reader insert with no use of names or “y/n”. probably hurt/no comfort unless i switch the ending but-- paragraphs completely in italic are flashbacks and each chapter will have one.

word count: 2,5k

chapter 1

      You wake up startled by the loud banging coming from your door, a glance at the clock on your nightstand makes your eyes roll immediately, but truthfully, you couldn't help moving your lips into a slight smile. There was only one person who would be at your door at three in the morning on a Thursday, and that person was James Potter.

      You were still groggy and exhausted, having gone to bed just two hours before. However, you would never be able to ignore him and he knew that, so you sit on your bed and yell at the door, it was a tiny flat, he, as well as the neighbours, unfortunately, would be able to hear you loud and clear. "JUST WHY, IT'S THREE IN THE MORNING."

      "I need to talk to you," he said loud enough so you could hear him, and sure enough that was convincing enough for you to get up and open the door, and he was right. You take a deep breath and mumble something you yourself didn't even understand, but it seemed like he got it. "I knocked on your door countless times, come open it, please." A loud grunt leaves your throat and you get up lazily, heading to the door, managing not to bump into furniture only because you knew your own apartment too well.

      You yawned a few times and unlocked the door, opening it to find James. the guy who was usually all smiles seemed quite apprehensive. You got concerned and felt a bit less sleepy because of it.

      "What happened, Jamie?" you ask, giving him space to enter your home, which he quickly did. Closing the door swiftly to be able to look at him with a serious glare. "Please tell me you're not drunk." You couldn't smell alcohol, but something about him was off; he seemed disconcerted.

      "Of course not!" Still, you watched him cautiously as he sat on the sofa, sighing deeply. You followed his steps, sitting beside him and taking one of his hands, cold as a stone.

      James looked at your hands and then at your face, smiling calmly and breaking the contact just to hug you sideways, so your head rested on his shoulder, a quick response to a regular move. "I received an offer from Wimbourne Wasps," he began, and you heard another sigh from him, you kept quiet, saying nothing as you waited for him to continue. "I'm seriously considering accepting it." He fell silent, and for a few seconds, you still waited for him to say more, but he didn't.

      "And what's the problem?" you asked.

      "Lily didn't take the idea very well. We had a fight. Sirius isn't thrilled with this possibility either. Appleby Arrows' fans got wind of the offer, and even though I haven't accepted it yet, they're already calling me a traitor." he poured it all out at once, and for a moment, you were speechless. You could understand Sirius, and the fans… But his girlfriend too? What happened to support and companionship in a relationship? You sigh deeply and look into his eyes, hoping to give him the assurance he so wanted to receive from someone, anyone.

      "You want to take it?" You hold back all the insults you could direct at his girlfriend, and see him nod slowly. "Then do it. It's your life, your career, no one has the right to interfere in what you think is best for both."

      "Really?" he asks, another cry for validation, and you nod, getting a beautiful smile from him. "You're the best person in the world." Those sweet words cut deep through your chest. Hearing that was good, but knowing that even if he thought that, you weren't his first choice hurt like a goddamn bitch. But you smiled, stealing a kiss from his lips and remembering the first time he had said those words when you were both fifteen.

      You looked into his eyes and tried to look as serious as possible, trying to show that you weren't that kind of person, and he knew that very well. Asking you to do something like that went against how you had led your whole student life. But contrary to what you thought, you weren't convincing enough; you just made him show a big and adorable pout of supplication.

      "Please, honey! I have to train for the next match, it's an important one. I won't have any time to think about it, to research, to read and write." He shook you by the shoulders, and you held back a long sigh that was about to escape, just blinking a few times and reconsidering the idea of ​​helping him.

      You threw your arms in the air to show you were accepting your defeat, and the smile you loved so much was again the center of all your attentions, James kisses your forehead and brushes his lips to yours teasingly. You laughed with rosy cheeks because that still made me you nervous, and he hugged you sideways.

      "Honey, I love you," he said simply, casually. Your heart raced, despite knowing each other for years and having been friends during all of them, he had never said those words to you, not even when he asked you out, then he only said that he liked you more than a friend. You looked into his eyes and nodded, unable to respond, but knowing he would understand. "You're the best person in the world."

      "D'you have plans for tomorrow?" he asks after a long period of silence. You already had your eyes closed, about to doze off on his shoulder, nodding calmly was all response you had energy to give. "Cancel them and come with me to Wimborne." You open your eyes in a jump, getting up and leaving his embrace. That was one of the best and worst things about James Potter: He always had unexpected plans.

      It was fun, but there was always that tone in his voice, as if you were obliged to do what he said, never a request, always an order. The real problem was that you could never bring yourself to complain, any plans he had with you, any time you could spend with him was enough, because you were the other woman, you had to accept his conditions, adapt to his schedule and his… Needs. You did feel like trash many times, used, especially when he disappeared for weeks and only showed up when he needed to hook up with someone and his girlfriend was somehow unavailable. But you had loved him since before you were fifteen, and you couldn't help it, it was your impromptu response, always, to just let him make you a fool for his attention.

      "I do need to know some info before, y'know?," despite wanting to go because you loved traveling with James, there were some different concerns since the last time you had done it together. "How long do you plan to stay? And what happened to your girlfriend? What if someone sees us?" You take a deep breath after pouring out all the questions without pause, and James smiled sweetly, putting one of your hair strands behind your ear.

      "The weekend, we'll be back sunday afternoon," he began, and you knew he already knew you would go either way, just by the way he spoke. "Wimbourne's proposal was made over letter, I'm going to study it better, talk to the directors, and make sure if this is really good for me." James sounded calm, irritatingly calm and confident, but you kept your mouth shut, the two most important questions still remained unanswered, you cross your arms and wait for him to do it so. "Lily went to spend a few days with her friends, said she wasn't in the mood to look at my face after the fight. And no one will see us, I swear." You rolled your eyes and sighed, throwing your arms up in the air, totally defeated, making him laugh.

      "I'll pack then," you shrugged and got up, feeling his arms hug you from behind and his lips tracing a trail of kisses between your shoulder and your neck, making you shiver and turn abruptly, sealing your lips in an initially calm kiss, but you both knew where that would lead.

      James paused the kiss just to throw you over his shoulder, forcing you to hold back a scream and then burst into laughter in a way that probably all the neighbours heard, and you were carried to the bedroom, where he threw you on your bed and took his shirt off, soon returning to where you had stopped minutes before.

      You were having breakfast calmly while James took his shower, having someone serve you breakfast in bed reminded you of when you lived with your mother, and you were loving it. It was already Saturday morning, and you had spent the entire previous day walking around town, getting to know the home of one of the most famous quidditch teams in your country; you went to the Minster and saw the Chained Library, the Astronomy Clock, the small local museum and the adorable model town.

      Then you both just kept going into every place that served coffee you could find. The rest of the afternoon was spent comparing which coffee was better and as a result, you arrived at the hotel more excited than usual, talking loudly and making senseless jokes that made you both laugh scandalously. Anyone who saw you would think you were drunk.

      Obviously, after so much caffeine, you stayed awake all night and unlike what would normally happen, you and James just talked, snuggling lightly, as if you were sixteen again. You felt heavenly, still not quite believing that such a thing was happening; it was as if he had finally noticed that you were the person for him, that you deserved the girlfriend title, and that brought you joy so immense nothing could ruin.

      "What you eating?" he asked, a towel wrapped around his waist, and you could see his chest still wet from the shower, but honestly, that wasn't sexier than James messing with his wet hair frantically so that it wouldn't get too messy, or maybe to mess it up even more.

      "Toast, come eat," you felt your eyes tear up as you yawned loudly, you were tired, too tired. you still hadn't slept, neither had he, and you had both taken a shower to wake up, but it didn't seem to have worked. "When's the Wimbourne Waps' meeting?"

      "Toast, just toast? I'm an athlete; I need much more than that." James complains in the most whiny of ways, but takes the toast you were about to eat from your hand and takes a big bite, sitting on the bed still wet. "Dinner tonight; apology in advance for leaving you alone." His lips form a pout, and you roll your eyes laughing, pulling his face against yours and giving him a quick kiss. "Oh! I have a surprise, miss!" Tremendous curiosity invades you but still it doesn't stop the laughter that comes from your lips when you see him putting more of the toast in his mouth than he could actually chew.

      "Nitwit." you lightly slap his arm, and he spits out part of what was in his mouth with the scare. "Potter! Gross!" you shout in disgust and leave the bed running, but soon he comes after you, pulling you by the arm against his chest. You smile and look into his eyes, "What's the surprise?"

      "Look in the black suitcase while I put on at least some pants." You agree with a nod and leave the embrace, going towards the suitcase and you can hear his steps going in the opposite direction where he left his clothes.

      You open the suitcase with great expectations, having no idea what it could be because James is, in fact, very good at surprises, so you never really know what to expect from him. You see the contents of the suitcase, and for a second, you feel disappointed, but then you shake your head, slap your right palm on your forehead, and burst into laughter, finally noticing what the fuss was about.

      "You brought your wizard's chess set?" incredulously you ask, still laughing as you turn to him, already dressed, a smile on his face.

      "Of course! I hardly have time to play at home, and I like playing with you; it gets my ego going." He shrugs and takes the board on his hands, putting over the bed instead of the table, so you both would be comfortable.

      "I'm not that bad!" you complain loudly, making a face and taking the chess pieces to him, so he could set it up.

      "Yes, you are."

      You huff but decide not to complain. It had been a long time since you had spent time like this, being teenagers, and you were loving every second of it.

      Unfortunately, the weekend had flown by, proving that as everyone says, all good things come to an end because all you wanted was to spend the rest of your life in that B&B, in that town with James by your side. On a happier note, James seemed to finally have his focus solely on you, and he was also virtually decided to accept Wimbourne's offer; everything seemed to be falling into place.

      Yet he seemed bothered by something as you both arrive at your building, so you sigh and look at him. taking one of of his hands swiftly and kissing one of his cheeks, asking if something had happened. He simply smiled weakly and shrugged.

      "Nothing honey, just in a bit of a hurry."

      "Hurry? You're not coming up with me?" You were obviously sad with that, but try to ignore it, knowing that he probably had practice. However, you soon notice that, unlike what you wished for, time hadn't stopped, and it was already Sunday evening.

      "Can't, Lily's already home by now."

      Your heart felt like it was going to implode; Lily, as always, was the priority, not you, not your company, and the weekend for him hadn't meant a third of what it had meant to you.

      You muster strength from unknown places to you and smile, holding back tears.

      "I understand! See you later, then." You let go of his hand, open the car door and get out, looking back only to open the back door and grab the only suitcase you had taken. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't move.

      You leave your suitcase in some corner of your flat, still trying to hold back tears. But as soon as you pass by the picture frame with a moving photo of you both from five years ago, you break down completely.

      Sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, you berate yourself for being stupid enough to think that he had changed. You end up spending hours there, without moving, just crying as hard as you could, and you come to a conclusion.

      Loving is pain.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Salvia Splendens Means Forever Mine- Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 1.8k

TW: Death, blood, bleeding out, making out, kissing, men being creepy, swearing, blood, trauma, cliffhanger moment

A/N: Guys I am so sorry. School has actually picked up and so have rehearsals, I'm losing my mind, but I'm trying to write multiple things at once, and that's so silly of me. I'm sorry this is so short, and I promise the next one will be longer. Thank y'all for your patience. It means a lot! PS That's fully Lady Mac in the painting !!

Part 1 Part 2

In all fairness, it was your turn.

Spencer had been captured and drugged, Derek had been arrested and charged with multiple murders, Gideon’s lost love had been murdered by a serial killer, Elle had someone reach into her body and write with her blood on her living room wall, so truthfully, you were a little shocked it had taken you this long to be murdered, or kidnapped, or who knows what else. 

The team hadn’t royally fucked up, per se. You all were beyond careful, but sometimes, when you misprofile, things happen. How were you supposed to know that it was the girl and her boyfriend, and not just the boyfriend. 

The best part about this was the fact that you got to watch as the woman you saved two days ago get stabbed to death repeatedly, screaming at you to save her. Her blood splattered across your face, your clothes, your skin, permanently staining it in your mind. Your favorite Shakespeare show had always been Macbeth, it seemed a bit ironic now considering you felt as though you would never wash her blood off your hands. 

The screams would echo around in your head as you stared at her body on the mattress across from you. The red grew in splotches like a sick mold, blooming out from underneath.

The boyfriend, whose name was slipping your mind, slid the knife up your thigh, and you couldn’t tell if he was drawing more of your blood, or dragging hers across you. 

The couple had been so kind as to remove your shirt and pants, leaving you in nothing but undergarments, and no socks. Colorado was fucking cold at night

You heard the girl, Millie, giggling as she shoved the woman’s body with her foot. You winced as you felt the knife going higher than you would have preferred, his hand sliding around your waist. 

“Andrew. What are you doing?” 

His name was Andrew. Got it. 

His hands immediately retracted, shrugging and crossing his arms, but still standing over you. 

“Go dispose of her body.” 

Andrew nodded, quickly tugging your hair, painfully, before moving to clean up the mess the two of them had made. You swallowed the groan in your throat and closed your eyes; the woman’s body never left your sight though. 

“Why does a gorgeous agent like you wear such a boring necklace.”

Your eyes shot open as Millie swung the little gold chain around her fingers. You pulled you hand, intending to reach your neck, but the restraint dug into your wrist, surely leaving a mark in the process. 

You hadn't realized it was gone. Your neck suddenly felt so cold, so make, without it.

“Oh so which one of them gave you this?” 

You exhaled, but kept your eyes on her hand at all times, not wanting to lose sight of the necklace. 

She smirked, watching as every muscle in your body stayed as tense as it could. 

“Was it…Agent Morgan…Agent Prentiss…no, hmm…” She twirled it around, enjoying as you fidgeted around, terrified that the necklace would break. 

“The skinny one?” You tried so hard not to react, but you have this nasty habit of biting your cheeks when you get extremely nervous or worried, and Millie’s smirk turned wicked when she realized. 

“Ah, so it is the nerdy one…interesting…Andy?”

Andrew, who had been leaning on the door frame, eyeing you up and down, making your skin crawl, looked over at Millie. 

“Baby…” She drawled, “Put this necklace on me?”

“No.” You couldn’t help it as the words shoved their way out of your mouth before you even had a chance to process it. 

Andrew stalked towards Millie, eyeing her up and down before snatching the necklace out of her hand. “It’s real pretty on you baby.” He slowly placed it on her neck, the gold contrasting against her skin. 

“Ya know, I just have to ask…what does this stupid pendant even mean?” 

You shook your head, eyes cast downward, unable to watch someone else wear the necklace Spencer had given you. 

“Hey. Fucking answer me.” She kicked your shoulder causing you to wince in pain as you felt the bruising start to form immediately. 

You missed it as Andrew picked up the knife. You missed it as Millie took it from him. You didn’t miss how she stabbed you in the gut, causing your eyes to flash white. 

People say pain is hot, it shoots through you like a fire you can’t put out, but they’re wrong. It is ice in your veins. The numbness slowly takes over your body as it shuts down, trying to avoid the unavoidable. 

Your mouth let out a strangled “fuck” when Millie ripped the knife from your stomach, causing the blood to start oozing out of your wound. 

God it was not supposed to end this way. 

You placed a hand over your stomach, barely registering the wetness as you pulled it up to your eyes. You watched as the blood dripped down the sides of your hands, and that's when the adrenaline shot kicked out from underneath you. 

“Oh my god.” you mumbled, placing your hand over the wound. The first thing you were supposed to do was stop the bleeding. With what? There’s nothing around? Panic was seeping through every pore in your body. You had been trained for this, why couldn’t you remember what to do? What should you even use to stop the bleeding, god it fucking hurt. 

You watched as the door across the room slammed shut, causing you to flinch at the sound, causing you to groan in pain at the sudden movement. 

“Fuck. Fuck.” 

This couldn’t be it. You couldn’t just die while some sick and twisted bitch walked around with your necklace on, while you slowly bled out on some disgusting mattress in god knows where. 

Maybe this is what Spencer thought about while he was dying. 

“I’m not dying.” You whispered, wavering slightly. The blood loss was getting to your head and your eyes were getting heavy. “I’m not…shit. It’s fine…I’m”

His hand was softer than you remembered, but at least he wasn’t as nervous as before. It was your six month anniversary and Spencer had gone all out. He had taken you out to dinner, your favorite restaurant in the area, wined and dined you. It was perfect. The two of you had ended up back at your place, your back against the door as you dug your hand around in your pocket. 

“Spence.’ You mumbled, smiling against his lips, losing all focus as one of his hands grabs your waist, squeezing it with anticipation. 

Your lack of focus spurred Spencer on, and suddenly the door to your apartment was opening–he had found your keys and opened it, all while distracting you with his lips, his touch.  You were glad someone had their head on straight. 

You stumbled back slightly, not leaving his touch, feeling the warmth on his hands on your arm, pulling you back into him. 

“Move in with me.” He whispered against your lips, and you’re not sure if you heard him correctly. 

“What?” You whispered, taking the slightest step back, opening your eyes and looking up into his eyes. His sweet, shining eyes, filled with hope, and something a bit more. 

“Move in with me…” Spencer licked his bottom lip, that same nervous tick that would drive you fucking crazy whenever you looked at him. 

“What about the team…” Spencer shook his head. 

“Who cares.” He smiled at you. “I just want to wake up next to you every morning.”

Spencer kissed your lips softly.

“Please sweetheart” Your jaw.

“Every single morning” Your neck. 

“Spence…” You moaned slightly, surely leaving bruises on his arms from your grip. Your mind was everywhere, unable to truly cling onto any of the words Spencer was whispering to you.

“In our bed.” 

“Sold.” You pulled his head up and basically launched yourself at him, lips on his. 

Spencer was not having as great of a time in his head as you were. 

Just as the team was getting out of their cars, he had heard your voice, causing him to immediately go on high alert, hand on his gun in an instant. The rest of the team had followed suit, all of them quickly looking at Hotch and Reid, trying to figure out a plan. 

Reid almost had to be held back by Morgan the way he basically started to walk right into the building. He knew what happened in hostage situations. He knew how unforgiving captures could be. He couldn’t stop picturing all of the possibilities of what made you scream out in such pain. 

But suddenly, he heard the front door slam, causing all of them to instantly aim at the couple, demands and yelling all happening so slowly.

He could hear the suspects voice, that dumb asshole that wouldn’t stop flirting with you in  the restaurant they had eaten at a couple days ago. His arrogance was the least of Spencer’s problems now. 

Then, he heard a woman’s voice, calling the unsub “sweetheart” and “darling” and “baby”. How could the miss the girlfriend? 

She had seemed so…submissive. But clearly, the profile was off a little bit. 

That’s when he heard the first gun shots go off, causing him to look up at the body on the ground, and the girl sobbing but getting on her knees. The boyfriend had a gun in his hand, but was too slow. 

Morgan quickly walked up to the girl, Hotch following him closely, gun trained on her. 

Hotch’s eyes went wide, and he quickly gave a nod to Emily, causing her to block Spencer’s path. 

“Where did you get this?” Hotch yanked it off of her neck, clutching the necklace in his hand. 

“You’ll find what’s left of 'em in there.” She smiled sickly, getting shoved by Morgan towards the black SUV brigade. 

But Spencer had already seen the necklace, and heard her answer. It was a miracle how agile he was, considering the FBI had to waive all of his physical exams to let him go into the field. Before anyone could really clear the building, Spencer was already inside of it, ignoring the shouts from his superiors and peers. 

He slowly made his way through, trying not to vomit at all of the blood all over the floors and the very clear drag marks of a body. 

His eyes landed on your body, bloody mattress and all and he froze. He couldn’t believe his fucking eyes.

Next Part

________________________________________________________

SSMF Taglist: @raely-study @multifandoms-assemble @marylovesevanpeters @shqwqrma @niya06

[stupidlittlespirit]

So you know how Stan did not want to watch "The Dutchess Approves" but ended up surprisingly enjoying it? What piece of media do you think would be like that for Ford?

Truthfully, I do think he'd be fascinated by the premise of Big Brother.

If I'm thinking in line with drama/horror TV shows though, you can get the best of both worlds here and go with Dead Set; it was a PHENOMENAL horror series on Channel 4 that was a zombie outbreak during Big Brother. Incredible series. Go watch it. Ford would love it. It's a guilty pleasure because it has no fucking right to go as hard as it does and the concept is ridiculous but it works so well.

I think he's a reality TV fan as opposed to a drama kind of guy at large. I think he could deny his guilty enjoyment under the guise of the bits I mention below and he'd feel that he could rationalise his interest, if he ever gets called out on it.

Zooming in on that mad scientist aspect of his personality, I think he'd enjoy the concept of just how CRAZY an experiment BB was. It's effectively a super unethical psychological shoebox experiment. It was especially bad at it's inception which was in 2000 in the UK and those early to mid 2000's kept that up. That period was also a fucking Wild West time for those types of psychological TV shows over here.

The reality TV landscape was really new and before official standards came in, execs were greenlighting super dangerous concepts for shows because they sold really well. People are inherently fascinated by human nature and so lots would tune in for them. I remember one where they put like 12 kids in a house and had them basically learn to live as adults, and they formed these cliques amongst one another and showed us how in-group out-group attitudes can be formed in really clear ways. They actually ended up all coming together to bully this one kid who they all decided was 'a loser' and they even tied him to a chair in the garden and left him there until adults intervened. Real Lord of the Flies type shit. I think once he grew up, he came out and said it really affected him (obviously).

If you look back on it, you can recognise how utterly insane a lot of the shows were. However, unethical science does offer really fucking incredible developments. Whether you agree or not, you can't deny how much progress has been made through them (The Stanford Prison experiment, for example) and they can give us really good results LMAO. Not always, obviously, but when it comes to psychology in this case, provided the controls and stuff are all sound, you can get groundbreaking results from them. Doesn't make them right, blah blah, but you have to acknowledge the results.

I feel like Ford would be kind of super into that LMAO. I don't think he would consider psychology a true science (this is a whole thing by itself that I could go into for hours and it's a very weird, elitist attitude but I do think he'd hold it lol) but I think he'd be very interested in the concepts regardless.

I also think he'd love the drama aspect. Everyone does, it's a guilty pleasure.

OH and if I'm being silly: Bad Girls Club.

[contentstarved]

I’ve been a fan of your blog for a while, and when I came back I revisited trigun after a friend had recommended it to me. Honestly I hyperfixated on Vash so fast, I love me some silly guys (who are also sad and need to be comforted because damn)

I saw you mentioned you liked Vashwood in one of your posts, do you have any spare hcs you could share?

HI GUESS WHO LET THIS SIT IN THE INBOX FOR A MONTH AND NEVER ACTUALLY TOUCHED IT FOR SOME REASON. first of all, hi, i fucking understand, i love v.ash so much good lord. my traumatized blonde man who needs so much more help than he allows himself. or that anyone else really gives, but, you know. i'll be pulling a little bit from some of my writing and roleplaying for this so it might be a little softer than canon!

Btw I wasn't sure what kinds of hcs you want, given I'm. A kink blog. But I tried to add in some non kink ones.

W.olfwood generally does not Get why V.ash treats himself like shit, at least not for a while; he has his guesses, but it takes him awhile until V.ash straightup tells him one night that he feels like he has to be useful and helpful to deserve anything, and that's when W.olfwood is really like. Ah shit. I will make sure not to take no for an answer from this point on and make sure he knows he deserves to be allowed to take care of himself even when he's not useful or even if he thinks he fucked something up. Probably even especially then.

Unfortunately V.ash will still skirt the line and undereat, but after a certain point you have to go "something's better than nothing and maybe he'll break and actually fucking eat." Especially with him.

And W.olfwood picks up pretty quick on the kinds of things V.ash likes but is nervous about asking for because... truthfully... the man isn't subtle. Sure, he would eat just about anything, but W.olfwood notices really fast that he's especially excited about salmon, sweets, and fruit, which he never asks for because fruit and fish are pretty damn expensive, but. Look. Sometimes a guy wants to spoil his boyfriend with a massive guilt complex, okay?

In rougher times with less money - or if V.ash is just being especially stubborn - he'll give some of his ration bars. They're not by any means good, but they at least give some respite from the constant hunger V.ash deals with for a little while.

As for some non kink ones:

They are both idiots. Together. V.ash is generally the goofier of the two because he strongly believes in faking it until you make it, but he also has so many stupid things to say and he may very well just die if he doesn't get to say them. It's contagious. I think they're both loosening the other up in different ways here.

W.olfwood also learns very quick that genuine kindness is not something V.ash is used to, and a little scared/intimidated by, and it lets W.olfwood go back a little to being a caretaker. He thought it was something he lost, but the neurotic plant makes him care, damn it, and he's slowly slipping back into being more gentle and loving, at least for V.ash. Other folks might still be on their own. Especially when he sees the thanks V.ash gets for his trouble.

Similarly, V.ash is gentle and close with W.olfwood; even if at first it's just W.olfwood doing his job, they still enjoy each other's company and V.ash... well. He tries to do a lot for him. He wants to help and listen and convince W.olfwood he's not a monster. They're both trying to convince each other of that.

W.olfwood also comes to think of V.ash as beautiful because of his plant features; the feathers, the markings, the sort of strange mannerisms are all a plus for him. If it gets strangely religious at times it's not his fault. It's on both sides anyway.

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 20 - Self Control

IN THIS CHAPTER: The last high school party, apple flavored Kool-Aid, and Andy gets what he deserves [10.3k]

WARNINGS: underaged drinking, mentions of drug use (weed), slut shaming, a little misunderstanding (gets resolved really quickly), suggestive themes? (very mild, eddie's just a little bit wired, okay?)

A/N: i know i'm a day late, i'm sorry T.T someone got fired at my job and i'm supposed to handle their shit now because my boss is kinda cheap. it is what it is. BUT. hopefully this chapter makes up for my tardiness because as you can probably tell from the banner, the slow burn is officially boiling, you guys! enjoy <3

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

In the night, no control Through the wall something's breaking

Saturday, May 31st - 1986

Dottie was pacing like a nervous dog in a cage, feet hitting the soft rug in front of her closet with each step she took. It was the first Saturday in a long time that she hadn't spent in a blissful domestic bubble with Eddie and she was feeling downright antsy. The night before, once Hellfire had officially said goodbye to its Class of '86, the two teens had sat themselves in a booth at the back of The Hideaway with burgers, fries, and milkshakes, and something had finally clicked into place for her. There was no longer a specific need for them to spend so much time together anymore - no more exams to study for, no more books to read or worksheets to fill, and yet there they were still, on a Friday night, getting food together like usual. Sitting opposite of Eddie in that booth, watching him try to lick ketchup from the corner of his mouth and not reaching the smudge with the tip of his tongue, it dawned on Dottie that she had never loved anyone the way she loved him.

It wasn't that Dottie hadn't loved throughout her life, because truthfully she had. She had loved her Dad first, tiny fingers wrapping around a big thumb when she was just a few hours old. She'd loved her Grandparents, all four of them equally, but maybe no one should tell them that Grandma Jo leaving after a visit would always cause the biggest sobs to escape her tiny toddler body. She'd loved her Uncle Johnny, always cuddling up to him while they lived together, not really understanding that he wasn't actually her Uncle until it was too late to start calling him anything else. She'd loved her friends back in New York, even though she knew now that they hadn't loved her back in return. Hell, she'd loved Tyler, or else it wouldn't have hurt as much as it did when he broke her heart. Dottie wasn't someone that didn't know what loving meant or felt like, but the way she loved Eddie was unlike any other kind of love she had ever experienced before, and she knew she had to tell him sometime soon or she'd regret it for the rest of her life.

But first, there was prom, and graduation, and most pressingly, a party for which she had absolutely no idea of what she was going to wear, hence the continuous pacing. James, tired of hearing the back and forth on the wooden floors for the last fifteen minutes, came into his daughter's bedroom resigned to play stylist for the night like he'd done so many times before. Keeping up with the latest trends for the sake of his little girl was a full time job he had long ago learned to love.

"Do you know what Nancy is gonna wear?" he asked, sitting down at the end of Dottie’s bed.

"No, I didn't think to ask. But she always looks so pretty, Dad, I can't look like a bum."

"How about you tell me what you don't want to wear and we can start from there, okay?"

Thirty minutes later, Dottie had an outfit laid out where James had been sitting and she was doing her makeup in a hurry before Nancy picked her up. The plan was simple: go to the party, say hi to Chrissy and thank her for the invite, hang out with Nancy for a bit, meet up with the boys, and if the party sucked, head over to Jeff's for a movie night. He'd rented Ghoulies and Weird Science for the weekend and he still hadn't seen either, so it seemed as good a backup plan as any. Besides, movie nights had always meant sharing a blanket with Eddie and cozying up to him when she got sleepy. No matter what ended up happening, she knew her night wouldn't be completely terrible.

"Honey? Are you done yet? Nancy is here!" James yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

"I'll be down in a second!" she hurried to put on her clothes and ran down the stairs to meet her friend, crossbody bag bouncing behind her and hitting her backside.

She found Nancy politely making small talk with her Dad on the foyer; James had gone to school with her mom Karen and had fond memories of sharing a desk with her throughout their many years at Hawkins’ various academic buildings. They hadn't exactly been friends, but they always were on good terms and had even worked on a few projects together, namely one about growing sprouts from beans in mason jars when they were in middle school.

"Hey! Sorry for making you wait," Dottie said, stopping to hug Nancy who was better prepared to receive it than she had been in the school’s bathroom a day before.

"You're fine, don't worry about the time," Nancy reassured her. "There aren't any schedules to keep at these parties, everyone just comes and goes when they want to."

"Oh, good to know that we can just leave whenever if it sucks."

"Speaking of that," James said, getting his daughter's attention. "Call me if you're staying at Jeff's, okay? I'll come pick you up tomorrow."

"Donny can drop me off, you don’t gotta come," she waved her hand nonchalantly.

"Okay, but call me anyway so I know where you are. Take care you two, don't get too wild."

"Dad, seriously," Dottie rolled her eyes, exasperated but not without fondness. She knew he worried too much, but after all they’d been through, she couldn't blame him.

"Have a good night, Mr. Burke, it was nice to meet you," Nancy said, heading out with Dottie at her heels.

"You too, Nancy. Say hi to your parents for me, will you?"

The girls got into Nancy's car and drove away towards Loch Nora, the radio playing The Rolling Stones’ Harlem Shuffle softly in the background. They talked about random things, filling the empty space with the kind of anxious but lighthearted conversations one would have with someone they don’t know very well yet. So far their budding friendship had proved satisfactory for both girls, and they were willing to put in the effort to get to know one another better, even when that meant having to venture outside the comfort zone The Weekly Streak’s newsroom provided. During the ride Nancy complimented Dottie's outfit, and in turn, she had loudly admired hers, prompting the blue-eyed girl to admit she'd borrowed the shiny jacket with padded shoulders from her Mom’s wardrobe. After a good-natured laugh, Dottie admitted she had stolen her dress from her Mom’s closet too and Nancy told her her Mom had good taste. When they parked across the street from Jason Carver's house however, the friendly chatter ceased and both girls stared at the two-storey rising in front of them with apprehension.

"I'm so nervous," Dottie admitted, watching the colors spilling from the fairy lights inside the living room paint the veranda red, then green, then blue, and finally back to red.

"Me too," Nancy said, taking a shaky breath. "But we got this. How bad can it be?"

"Yeah. You’re right. It’ll be fun," Dottie nodded, and arm in arm they ventured inside the packed house in search of good old teenage normalcy.

Neither Nancy nor Dottie were having the slightest bit of fun. After a few shouted-over-loud-music hellos to some familiar faces, they had found themselves in Jason’s kitchen, nursing cups of a strange brown concoction that didn’t smell good and tasted even worse. Dottie wasn’t much of a drinker, and apparently Nancy wasn’t either, citing that the last time she’d gotten drunk, she’d embarrassed herself so badly she’d rather not have a repeat. The jocks and popular kids disagreed heavily with that assessment, and were having a lot of fun with two kegs in the backyard next to the pool. Dottie had suggested they venture out, sit by the water where it wasn’t as stuffy, but Nancy had quickly directed her into the kitchen where they ran into Marcie Hurley, an acquaintance from the newspaper club. Marcie was a lovely tall girl with a bold pixie cut; she was currently slightly intoxicated but full of ideas for stories to run in the last edition of The Weekly Streak before summer holidays started. Nancy pretended to listen to her with her utmost attention, but Dottie could tell by the way her eyes were glazed over that she was definitely calculating how much more she’d have to hear before she could get away without coming across as rude. Two girls Dottie didn’t know walked into the kitchen searching for something fruity to drink when they said something that caught her attention.

“What do you mean Munson said no?” one of the girls was saying.

“He said he wasn’t selling tonight! Which is honestly such bullshit, he was smoking with some other guys, he definitely had something on him,” the second girl said, pouring vodka into a cup.

“Show him your tits, maybe he’ll share with you.”

“Ew, I’m not that desperate!” the first one laughed loudly.

Dottie scowled immediately. She’d once gotten curious about him dealing and asked him a couple of questions, like how did he get into selling and if he was allowed to smoke his own product. Eddie hadn’t been particularly proud of his answers, but she told him she didn’t mind: the money helped pay for some bills around the trailer and put food onto their table. It wasn’t like he was dealing hard stuff or was some kind of mafia lord moving tons of product, for fuck’s sake. People talked about him like he had his thumb on the illegal underground in Hawkins when in reality, he was just a teen selling weed and a couple of pills here and there to a few fellow students at parties. Dottie hoped he’d never done something as gross as asking a girl to show him her body in exchange for a couple of hits of a shitty joint. She liked to believe she knew Eddie, and in her opinion he’d never do something like that, but teenagers had never been particularly known for making good choices. Nancy was already looking at her when she turned around, a knowing smile on her face. She nodded towards the door once, and after a whispered “thank you” off Dottie went in search of her friends.

The boys were enjoying the fresh air and sharing a smoke on the veranda at the front of the house, not really ready to go inside and face the music just yet. Donny had picked up Gareth and Jeff on his way to the party, but Eddie had arrived solo just a few minutes after them. They were talking about music, as they often did, when Dottie opened the front door and jumped on Jeff’s back, who flinched in surprise.

“Fucking hell, Dot, you’re gonna kill me someday if you keep doing that,” he said, rubbing his chest.

“I was worried you guys weren’t gonna show up,” she admitted, hanging onto his shoulders. He leaned his weight into her, hands wrapping around her loose wrists like they were backpack straps to keep her in place as they swayed side to side.

“Party sucks that much?” Donny asked, passing along the joint to Gareth.

“I mean, it’s not like I know a lot of people here. I’ve been hearing Nancy talk to other girls all night, and I think she’s as fed up as me.”

“Wanna ditch?” Jeff asked.

“We’re not leaving until I drink my fuckin’ weight in rich people’s beer,” Gareth declared, giving the cig to Eddie who took a long drag and put the roach out on the underside of the railing he was leaning against.

“If you want beer, there are a bunch of cans in the kitchen but you gotta fish them out of the cooler and someone spilled something green in there. It’s kinda gross,” Dottie grimaced.

“What? No keg?”

“Actually, there’s two in the backyard but the basketball team took ownership of one and I think the football team was doing handstands on top of the other one.”

“That’s so fucking lame,” Donny scoffed.

“Well then, who’s down for fishing?” Jeff looked at the guys, and Gareth shrugged, putting his hands in his jean pockets and following him inside.

“You coming?” Donny asked Eddie who didn’t move from his spot.

“Nah, gonna smoke a cig first. You go ahead,” he said, getting his Camels out of his front pocket.

Donny headed back inside and then it was just Dottie and Eddie under the moonlight, the tiny lamp above the front door doing nothing to shield them from the darkness. Eddie smiled, putting the cigarettes back in his pocket and opening his arms so Dottie could sheepishly tuck herself into him. She felt like she could finally breathe easy when feeling his chest rising up and down under her cheek, his warmth seeping into her bones.

“Too many people?” he asked knowingly, cupping the back of her head with one of his hands. Her fingers drew patterns on the soft cotton of his shirt.

“Mhm,” she nodded. “This is nice.”

“Yeah? You like my shirt?”

“Smells good,” she laughed. He smelled like Old Spice aftershave and laundry detergent.

“Why, thank you for noticing I showered, princess,” he said, grinning. “You look pretty. This your Mom’s dress?”

“Yeah,” she beamed, looking down at her shift baby blue dress. “I didn’t know what to wear so I just played it safe. The socks are new though,” she lifted her leg to show her white ankle socks with frills under her black kitten heels.

“So cute,” Eddie pouted theatrically, making her slap his chest in return. “No, really. You look nice.”

“Thanks,” she settled back against him, cheeks burning.

They enjoyed each other’s presence for a few seconds when the front door opened with a bang, an overexcited and red-eyed Chrissy Cunningham spilling out from the inside, her giggles following her as she skipped towards them in tune with the music coming from the speakers in the living room.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked, a mischievous grin gracing her fairy-like features.

“Hey, Chris,” Eddie smiled, still holding onto Dottie as she turned in his arms to take a look at the newcomer. “How was your latest purchase?

“It was so good. Valerie, Julie and I just smoked a joint each in the bathroom,” she whispered conspiratorially, making Dottie laugh.

“Oh my. What would Jason say if he knew you were hotboxing his shower?” Eddie matched her tone.

“What Jason doesn’t know won’t hurt him. D’you want to smoke with us later, Dot? Only girls allowed.”

“Sorry, I’m not really a smoker,” Dottie said, feeling a little bit dumb. “But I’ll take you up on that Queen song you promised me yesterday if you wanna dance.”

“Oh my God, yes!” Chrissy grabbed her arm and pulled her out of Eddie’s grasp. “She’s mine now, Ed!”

“I can see that. I’m gonna go get a beer,” Eddie said, following them inside. “Have fun, ladies!”

“We will!”

Weed affects different people in different ways. That was a fact Dottie knew after spending so much time with the members of Corroded Coffin, better known as her best friends. Donny was always virtually the same after a good session, just got very thirsty. Eddie would get deep and thoughtful, and once the effects were gone, he’d get so hungry he’d eat drywall if it was the only thing around. Gareth, like Chrissy, would get giggly once he hit that sweet spot. It was like drinking, Donny had told her once. Everyone had a different tolerance, and most of the time taking a few hits of a shared joint wouldn’t be enough to change anyone’s personality significantly. There were other people like Jeff, for example, who had a very low tolerance and had decided to stop smoking altogether after realizing he’d get panicky and his clothes would always start itching each time he indulged in the vice with his friends. None of them had ever questioned him or pressured him to smoke after that, the same way that they didn’t pressure Dottie to smoke or drink when they were doing it around her. They’d always smoke outside, and Dottie and Jeff were free to lounge around on the couch and talk about anything and everything until they all regrouped inside again. Watching Chrissy be so carefree and joyful made Dottie think that maybe she’d enjoy being invited to one of their movie nights some day.

Chrissy, on the other hand, was a girl on a mission. There were no movie nights being planned in her head; she was instead focused on getting information out of Dottie to relay to Eddie at his earliest convenience. Chrissy liked Dottie, she really did. She liked how kind and attentive she was despite always walking around with an anxiety cloud above her head. She liked how she dressed, with her vintage clothing and big earrings Chrissy couldn’t wear because it’d be dangerous for a cheerleader to be tossed around with hoops or fun acrylic shapes dangling from her ears. She liked how she made Eddie feel, and Chrissy liked Eddie very much, so that just cemented Dottie in her mind as a good person to have around. And so, the blonde lulled her into a sense of comradery with heartfelt compliments and wild dances, trying to get to the bottom of the question she’d had swirling around in her brain for two months now: do you like my friend or is he wasting his time to end with his heart broken? To her credit, what came out of her mouth was much more subtle than that.

“Eddie’s awesome, isn’t he?” Chrissy asked, casting her line into the sea and waiting for Dottie to bite.

“Yeah, he’s great!”

“He was so right about us being friends! I’m so happy you came!”

“Well, thank you for inviting me!” Dottie smiled at her, and Chrissy squeezed her hand in response.

The party was in full swing now. Nancy had found a couple of classmates she got along with and finally managed to escape Marcie’s insistent newspaper talk; she looked much more happy talking to them near the door to the backyard than she’d looked like back in the kitchen. Donny, Gareth and Jeff were fishing out beer cans from the cooler and passing them along to people that normally ignored them in the hallways, their bravery for sticking their hands into the horrid green liquid making them the heroes of underaged teens trying to get unbearably drunk before inevitably throwing up all over Mrs. Carver’s bushes. Eddie stood to a side, near the archway that led to the stairs where bubblegum pink eyeshadow Marianne from his Sociology class had just disappeared up to with his lovesick boyfriend trailing behind her, much to his friends’ jeers and claps. The metalhead had a barely sipped on beer in his hand and hearts in his eyes as he watched Dottie and Chrissy spin around in the middle of the living room, singing along to Top 40 hits and dodging couples making out.

Eddie had never felt happy at a house party before. He’d usually drop by, deal a little bit from the back of his van, and speed away either to Jeff’s house to hang out with his friends or back towards his trailer where he’d smoke and fuck around with his guitar until he’d fall asleep on his tummy with his jeans still on. But standing there, seeing his friends being treated like normal people instead of the dirt beneath a shoe, he felt happy at a party for once in his life. He felt like a normal teenager, like everyone else in the Hawkins High Class of ‘86 saying goodbye to a long school year and hello to the unforgettable summer ahead. Chrissy made a suggestive face at him while dancing around with Dottie and Eddie laughed.

“Hey, Munson!” a familiar voice said, coming to clap his shoulder and snapping him out of his trance.

“Hey, Foster. How are you doing?”

“Weird seeing you here,” Kyle Foster of the Yearbook Club said, looking friendly but fidgety. “You never sell inside at these things.”

“Not selling tonight, man. Just enjoying the beer,” he lifted his can above waist level to demonstrate.

“Ah, dude, that sucks. I had a twenty with your name on it,” he clicked his tongue. “But if our deal still stands, I guess in a couple of weeks you’ll have a bag with my name on it.”

“I’m a man of my word, Foster,” Eddie smirked, shoving his hand into his pocket. “But here, for your troubles.”

He produced a tightly rolled joint from inside his packet of Camels and extended it to Kyle, who looked at him like he’d grown two heads. Never in his entire time being Eddie’s customer had he sold him a pre-roll, much less one that he had intended to smoke himself at some point. He eyed him curiously, not making any moves to pluck it out of the dealer’s hand.

“You sure about that, Munson?” he asked, giving him the chance to recant his offer.

“Yeah, you can have it. I’m not gonna smoke it and I’m feeling generous tonight. Just don’t send anyone else my way, okay? It’s the only one I had.”

“Y-yeah, man, sure! Thanks,” Kyle smiled, grabbing his prize for holding a polite conversation with the town’s freak who felt like less and less of a monster as the school year came to a close. “Here, take the twenty anyways,” he pulled a single bill from his back pocket. “Sorry about, y’know, that whole thing. See you when the yearbooks come out!”

And with that, he shoved the note into Eddie’s hand and left towards the backyard, probably in search of a borrowed lighter to spark up in a corner of Jason Carver’s lush garden. Eddie looked down at his hand, snorted, and put the twenty bucks away to spend another day. Maybe he’d get Dottie a strawberry milkshake like he’d done the day before, only to watch her eyes light up at the first taste and indulge in her pleas because it’s so good, Ed, you gotta try this! They make them with real strawberries! Chrissy found his eyes again over Dottie’s shoulder and stuck her tongue out at him. He clutched his chest like he had been hurt by her, overdramatic as always, and Dottie twirled Chrissy around breaking their eye contact. The songs changed but the girls stayed dancing and he kept on watching them with a satisfied smile on his face. It was a shame, really, that Eddie often became blind whenever he saw the girl he was in love with being truly, completely happy, because if he didn’t, he would have noticed one Andy fucking Humphrey staring at him like he could make the dumb metalhead drop dead in a heartbeat just by looking at him.

Jason Carver wasn’t the typical high school bully you’d see in films. Truthfully, he wasn’t even a bully; he just kept quiet while his friends did all the fucked up things the basketball team was infamous for. He was known as someone who would fly off the handle quickly, but not without reason. He took freshmen and sophomores under his wing, taught them what being a good teammate looked like, gave them a family within the walls of Hawkins High as part of his team. Jason was, if anything else failed, extremely protective and fiercely loyal to his own, and expected the same considerations to be returned to him. So when Andy, one of his best friends since elementary, came running to tell him that The Freak of Hawkins High was trying to flirt with his girlfriend in front of everyone, Jason had no reason to doubt him. Why would he, when Andy had been nothing but reliable all this time?

“What do you think you’re doing, creep?” Jason told Eddie, his tone low, trying not to call too much attention to themselves. Chrissy didn’t need to see this, she didn’t have to know she was being ogled by a pervert under his own roof.

“Drinking your beer, Carver, what does it look like I’m doing?” Eddie said with a sour tone, and instantly knew that had been the wrong answer.

“Yeah? What makes you think you’re welcome in my house?”

“Chill, man, I got invited, same as everyone else.”

“Who would want you here?” Chance Peterson said, appearing at Jason’s shoulder. This was bad.

“Uh, his girlfriend? Just like everyone else?” Eddie deadpanned, putting his can of beer on a ledge and lifting his palms. “Look, I’m really not looking to cause any trouble tonight-”

“Why would Chrissy invite you? You aren’t friends,” Patrick asked, and Eddie held back a scoff. He was willing to bet he knew Chrissy, the real Chrissy, more than any of these meatheads did.

“She invited all the seniors, that’s all there is to it. I’m a senior too-”

“Yeah, a senior citizen, you freak,” Chance said. “Why don’t you go home early and leave us actual seniors alone, huh? What is this, your tenth time trying to graduate?”

“See Peterson, I always knew you didn’t know how to count, but didn’t think you would be so bad at it. Should have known though, it’s not like anyone expects you to do anything that isn’t playing around with your balls. Now why don’t you back off and let your captain here and I have a civil conversation, alright?” Eddie looked down at Chance who narrowed his eyes at him, but Jason threw his arm out to stop him from moving forward.

“We’re not having a conversation, Munson. Back off my girlfriend or leave.”

“I’m not interested in your fuckin’ girlfriend, Carver,” Eddie said, bewildered.

“You say that, but you sure were looking at her before we walked in,” Andy said, stepping around his friends to stand next to Jason. “Wanna explain that?”

“Is looking at someone a goddamn crime now? Can’t exactly leave my eyes at home, you dumbass,” Eddie said, getting loud.

“So you were looking at Chrissy!” Jason yelled.

“No, I wasn’t! Believe it or not, not everyone is fuckin’ in love with your girlfriend, man!”

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Donny flanked Eddie, his voice booming over the sound of the music.

“Back off, dude, what’s your deal?” Gareth threatened Chance when he shoulder-checked him.

People were starting to catch on now, curious eyes looking around for the latest gossip. Jason and Eddie yelling at each other wasn’t exactly new, but both groups of friends having a screaming match at a house party? Now, that was juicy. As everyone started insulting and trying to intimidate each other, Eddie looked around trying to find Dottie in the crowd. She was still dancing with Chrissy, oblivious to the conflict, and now another cheerleader had joined them; he was pretty sure she was a junior and her name was Valerie.

“Hey! Stop looking at her, asshole!” Andy said, grabbing Eddie’s hair and turning his head back towards the imminent fight.

Andy’s voice was loud enough to startle the girls and make them look their way. Chrissy and Valerie paled instantly, hurrying forward to try to contain the scene before it turned truly ugly, leaving a path open behind them for Dottie to follow. Chrissy grabbed Jason’s arm and tried pulling him away when Eddie turned to Dottie and shook his head, his curls still in Andy’s grasp.

“It’s okay, Dot, stay over there!” he told her, not wanting to get her involved and hurt.

But it was too late, because Andy, as stupid as he was, caught on pretty quickly. He hadn’t recognized her before, all dolled up and giggly while she danced with Chrissy and Valerie. He’d simply assumed she was one of their friends, maybe even a junior he hadn’t really paid too much attention to while in school. Insistent on Eddie perving on Chrissy, he’d missed a crucial detail: that the unknown girl she was dancing with was the same girl that had threatened him in the AP Spanish classroom just a week ago. The same one that had told him to stay away from the Hellfire Club. That girl wasn’t Chrissy’s friend, she was a freak, merely blending in with the rest of the school population because she didn’t wear dark colors and leather. Andy turned on her so quickly she didn’t have time to heed Eddie’s warning before he was spewing venom towards her.

“I see now, freak,” Andy said, letting go of Eddie’s hair with a shove and stepping towards Dottie. “You weren’t looking at Chrissy, you were looking at your bitch.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?” Dottie said, angrily.

“That’s what you are, isn’t it? The freak’s little bitch. That’s why you came after me last week, huh?” Andy was seething. “Did he tell you to do that?”

“You brought that on your own by being a smug idiot,” she told him, not backing down from the fight even though she was terrified of him.

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Patrick asked.

“This slut tried to tell Mr. Lorenzo that I cheated on a test if I didn’t leave her friends alone,” Andy explained, once again looking smug. Everyone was watching them now. “Said I was gonna lose my ride to college, acted all flirty and shit. What is it, honey? The freak not giving it to you good enough? Do they all share you, like the big whore you a-”

“Fuck!”

Dottie hadn’t hesitated. Instead, she’d just simply punched him right in the face with her right fist, thumb on the outside like her Grandpa Ken had taught her when they were boxing in his backyard one summer, hitting pillows and humming along to the Rocky theme song while Grandma Caroline made fresh lemonade. The crack that followed the punch was deafening. All chatter ceased and the music was turned off - if a needle were to hit the floor, it would have been so easily heard in the silence that followed her expletive. It had hurt for him, yes, something was definitely broken, but the impact on her knuckles had split the delicate skin covering them, not used to being treated so roughly by colliding against a jock’s bones. Andy pinched his nose with pain, blood starting to pour down his cupid’s bow.

“Wait, no!” Chrissy gasped, as Andy reached over to take someone’s beer can out of their hand and emptied it on Dottie’s head, throwing it away once it was empty. The metal clang on the floor until it hit someone’s shoe.

“What the fuck?” Gareth managed to say, before Eddie launched himself and pushed Andy away from Dottie who just stood there clutching at her hand and looking at the floor in shock.

Her Mom’s dress was ruined, sticky liquid dripping from her hair onto the soft fabric, staining everything as it went down, down, down onto her thighs and legs until it reached her socks. She smelled like an alcoholic and her fingers hurt. She felt empty, adrenaline leaving her body as she shivered while everything around her dissolved into utter chaos. The Hellfire Club and the basketball team were yelling and pushing each other once again, people rushing to get out of their way so they wouldn’t get hit. With the reflexes of someone used to being on alert, Nancy grabbed Dottie’s arm and yanked her aside just in time for Andy to push Eddie off himself and into a side table. Eddie hit the floor with a sickening crunch, but what made everyone stop the brawl was the sound of the lamp on top cracking into a million little pieces right next to the couch.

“Jason, stop this!” Chrissy pleaded, hanging onto his arm.

Andy, not one to be deterred, snapped his head towards Dottie, not caring that Nancy threw an arm out to cover her with her own body. He raised his hand, fully on board with hurting either of them to make a point, when Jason finally snapped into action and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into Patrick’s arms who instantly held him in place, Chance coming over to help.

“Are you crazy?” Jason yelled at his friend. “We don’t hit women!”

He turned just in time to see Chrissy helping Eddie up, the two of them muttering to each other softly, looking a lot more friendly than he liked. His eye twitched once and he looked at Hellfire as they huddled closer to each other and started inching towards the exit, Nancy and Chrissy herding them out.

“Get out of my fucking house!” Jason told them, like they weren’t already trying to leave.

“Gladly,” Donny said, closing the door behind them and shielding them from further aggressions.

“You guys, I am so sorry,” Chrissy was saying, not knowing who to direct it to first.

“It’s okay, Chris. Not your fault your boyfriend has shithead friends,” Eddie said, patting her shoulder in comfort.

“Still, I should have-,” she cut herself off because there was nothing she could have done; the basketball team and the Hellfire Club were destined to hate each other until the end of time. She turned to Dottie instead. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I think so. My hand hurts,” she sniffed. “I’m sorry we ruined your party.”

“Oh, please, that party sucked,” Chrissy snorted. “The most fun I had all night was when we were dancing with Val.”

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Donny said, guiding Dottie towards his car.

“I can drive her, I brought her here,” Nancy offered, giving him half a smile. She wasn’t friends with the guys, but she knew enough about them through Mike to have at the very least positive feelings towards them. Besides, it wasn’t like Jonathan hadn’t also been an outcast back when he was still in Hawkins. She knew what that was like.

“No, no,” Dottie hurried to say. “You should both go back to the party. Eddie can drive me, Don, I don’t want to ruin your car.”

“Are you sure?” Chrissy said, not wanting to leave her in such a vulnerable state.

“Yes, I’m sure. Go back inside, it’s your party,” she squeezed the blonde’s hand. “I had fun dancing with you, thank you for inviting me.”

“Maybe we can do it again some day? Just us girls?” Chrissy said, eyes full of hope.

“I’d love that,” Dottie said, and she really meant it.

“Okay, then… let’s go back inside, Nancy. Bye guys, drive safe,” Chrissy waved at them, pulling her cardigan closed and both girls disappeared back into the house.

“Is this a bad time to say that I stole a case of beers?” Gareth said, lifting a 12-pack and bringing some much needed humor to the situation.

“Let’s go back to mine then, we can sneak in through the basement door,” Jeff proposed, and Donny nodded.

“I’m… I’m gonna pass, guys,” Eddie said. “I’ll take her home and head back to the trailer. My ass kinda hurts.”

“Have fun without us, okay? I’m sorry I ruined it,” Dottie said, tears swimming in her eyes. Whether it was because of the shame or the pain in her hand, no one knew but no one asked her either.

“Hey now, you didn’t ruin anything. We’ve got an awesome story to tell the kids someday,” Donny laughed.

“Yeah! We’ll be like: Auntie Dot broke a jock’s nose back in high school because he called her names,” Jeff said, putting on an old man voice and Dottie chuckled wetly.

“Come on, let’s go,” Eddie said, guiding her towards his van with a hand on her lower back.

“I should sit in the back, I’m gonna get your seats dirty,” Dottie said.

“Don’t even think about it, there’s no seatbelts in the back,” he said, climbing in and rummaging around for the tarp they covered Gareth’s drumset with when they moved it for gigs.

The music from inside the house was booming again when Donny’s car pulled into the street and the boys left, saying goodbye by honking twice. Eddie covered the front seat with the tarp and helped her get in, clicking the seatbelt for her in place and jogging to get to the driver’s side. Dottie stared out the window as Eddie turned the van on and backed up into the street, waving at a defeated Chrissy who was looking out from the living room’s window. When Eddie stopped at the first intersection, Dottie turned to look at him.

“Ed?” she asked in a shaky voice. “Can you take me to yours instead?”

The trailer was empty with all the lights turned off when they arrived, which was unusual for a Saturday night. Wayne had always had weekends off, after all, he had a kid at home to take care of and nobody was an asshole enough to ask an old man to come in during his time away with his family. Still, as Eddie kneeled down next to the entrance to help Dottie undo her heel buckles, she looked around while holding onto his shoulders and found herself missing her Mr. Wayne. Eddie had asked her in the van why she didn’t want to go home, and she had simply replied she didn’t want to tell her Dad she’d gotten into a fight just yet. She’d failed to mention that she was expecting Wayne to give her the parental comfort she needed, but without the grounding she was sure she was gonna get from her own father.

“He’s at the plant,” Eddie said, guessing her silent inquiry. “He’s doing extra time this weekend so he can take a couple of days off for graduation.”

“That’s really sweet,” she smiled, stepping out of her shoes now that he’d gotten them unbuckled. The beer that had dripped down her legs had stained the tops of her socks.

“Wait here, okay? I’ll get the shower running for you, the knobs are… well, they’re stupid,” he shrugged with resignation. “You can call your Dad if you want, tell him where you are.”

He started the shower for her while she dialed home, James picking up after a few long rings. He listened to her talk quietly while getting her a towel and clean clothes; she hadn’t exactly asked, but Eddie got confirmation that she wanted to spend the night when he heard her lie to her Dad about being at Jeff’s and having a movie night. Eddie wasn’t about to complain about her not mentioning she was with him if it meant he could sleep next to her for a full night. He went back into the bathroom, lowered the toilet’s lid and put the things he’d gathered for her on top before opening the mirror cabinet and pulling out a new toothbrush along with a packet of makeup wipes. She hung up and walked into the small bathroom after him, looking at the items in his hands with a quirked eyebrow.

“I wear eyeliner for our gigs sometimes,” he admitted. “It always looks like shit, but if it’s good enough for Ozzy, it’s good enough for me.”

“Maybe I can teach you how to do it right sometime,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting into half a smile.

“Maybe you should just do my makeup so I don’t poke my eye out.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll do your makeup next time.”

“Kick your clothes out the door when you take them off, I’ll throw them in the washing machine for you,” he said, and left her to her devices.

He went back into his bedroom to give her privacy and get changed into his own PJs, which consisted of an old ratty t-shirt with a couple of holes around the neck and plaid pants he was sure had belonged to Wayne at some point in their lives. While he busied himself changing his sheets into fresh ones, putting her clothes in the washer and making his bedroom look somewhat presentable, Dottie tried to hurry up in the shower, not wanting to use up all the water. Still, she couldn’t help but take her time appreciating the fact that Eddie actually owned conditioner and that the green apple smell that surrounded him in the mornings belonged to the big bottle of shampoo in the corner of the tub. She washed all the beer off her skin and hair and, feeling a lot more like herself, wrapped her body into the soft off-white towel he’d gotten for her, standing at the mirror to rid herself of her make up as best as she could. She brushed her hair quickly, scrunching her curls into the towel to remove the excessive moisture, and brushed her teeth making a note to buy him a new toothbrush to replace the one she’d used. Timidly, she also reached for his deodorant, reasoning that it was better to use it than to stink up his clothes and bed with her sweat.

She was studying herself in the small mirror, not entirely believing that she was wearing Eddie’s clothes, when she realized the light scabbing on her knuckles had probably loosened up with the water and they were all bloody again like she’d never cleaned them up in the first place. Poking her head out of the bathroom, she directed her voice towards his bedroom where she could hear him pottering about.

“Eddie?” she called.

“Yeah?”

“D’you have any bandages? My hand’s bleeding again.”

“Uh, lemme see,” he pushed the door open and rummaged around in the sink cabinet, grabbing a little bag that contained their first aid supplies. “Come, sit on the bed,” he instructed, and she did as he asked without a word.

He kneeled in front of her and inspected her right hand, closing each finger carefully and pressing on parts of her palm to see if anything hurt. Nothing seemed to be permanently broken, so reached over to his bedside table where a cup of water sat and gave her an ibuprofen to help with the swelling before moving on with his next task. She watched him as he worked diligently to clean the scrapes, long thick fingers fluttering softly on her skin.

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” Dottie asked.

“I’m getting a weird déjà vu here, princess,” he chuckled. “You need to stop getting into trouble before I get into pre-med.”

“Can’t help it. Trouble’s my middle name.”

“I thought it was Ann?” Eddie said, laughing.

Truthfully, he was joking around to hide the fact that he had been losing his mind since she’d opened the bathroom door and came out all rosy-cheeked, smelling like him and wearing his clothes. He’d given her one of his old shirts, a white one he hardly ever used anymore with a Garfield print at the front and his blue checkered boxers, not expecting them to look as big on her as they did. The hem of the shirt almost covered the shorts, and the short sleeves went past her elbows. The less was said about his gray socks that bunched up at her heel, the better, and he tried not to think about the fact that he knew she wasn’t wearing a bra because he’d had the most mortifying pleasure of throwing the cute cotton garment into his washing machine fifteen minutes earlier. Eddie was wrapping up her knuckles with a long piece of gauze when he noticed she’d gone strangely quiet. He looked up at her face to find her teary-eyed and chewing on a wobbly lip.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, holding onto her hand. “Is it too tight?”

“Is that… what everyone thinks about me?” she whispered, like she was afraid of asking out loud.

“I- I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, darling.”

“Wh-what Andy said. About me being… does everyone think I’m a slut?”

“What? No! Of course not!” he stuck the gauze in place with a piece of medical tape and lifted himself onto his knees between her legs to hug her. “Dot, he didn’t even know who you were until tonight, he was just talking out of his ass.”

“I’m not a whore,” she muttered into his shoulder. “I promise I’m not.”

“Darling, what are you on about, huh?” he grabbed her face with two hands and brought her eyes to his. “I know you’re not. You could sleep with half this town and I still wouldn’t think you’re a whore. You- you can do whatever you want with whoever you want! I know you, you’re… Dot, you’re so fucking nice to me, to all of us, and the only reason Andy said that bullshit about you is because you’re friends with the freaks.”

“I’m not,” she said, and he looked at her in question. “I’m not friends with the freaks. I am a freak.”

“Hell yeah you are,” Eddie smiled. “You are a freak, and you shouldn’t let what that piece of shit said get to you, okay? You broke his fucking nose because he talked shit about you, Dot. You’re so fucking amazing.”

It was probably the way Eddie was looking at her like she’d hung the moon and all the stars, or maybe it was the way he was holding onto her face with a gentleness no one associated with the rugged metalhead, fingers extending under her ears and into her damp hair, thumbs on her cheeks. It was most definitely the way he always took care of her, how he cleaned her wounds like she was the most fragile thing on Earth and how he never hesitated to pull her into his arms whenever she needed a hug without questioning her reasons. But honestly, it was most likely the fact that he was so close to her, his warm breath mingling with her minty one, that had her leaning forward and pecking his lips with hers in the most chaste kiss she’d ever given to anyone in her entire life.

She tried pulling away as fast as she had leaned in, she really tried to, but Eddie felt like he had been struck by a live wire and instinctively chased her mouth with his own, still cupping her face but moving one of his hands to tangle into her hair, finally taking a hold of the proverbial carrot dangling in front of him. He was kissing her - Eddie Munson was kissing Dottie Burke and he couldn’t get enough of it - he needed more, he needed to consume her and she to him until there was nothing left for anyone to see. He grabbed onto her bare thigh to pull himself up and she whimpered, the walls of the illusion suddenly crashing around him. She’d just tearfully asked him if the town thought she was a whore, and his way of reassuring her, had been to deny it and then make a move on her. Eddie jumped back so quickly he fell onto his bruised ass and hissed in pain.

“Fuck, Dot, I’m- I’m so sorry!” he pleaded, leaving her dumbfounded and glazy-eyed.

He’d fucked up. He’d ruined everything. With his eagerness, he’d jumped the gun and now his plan was ruined, and she probably, maybe, definitely thought he was a fucking pervert trying to get into her pants, and yes, he very much would like to do that but not like this. Not before she knew he would quite literally die for her, not before he’d confessed to her the profound love he felt and had finally become the kind of man she deserved to have. Dottie looked at him not understanding what had just happened, but when she moved to get off the bed and closer to him, he jumped off the floor and put even more distance between them.

“I’m so sorry, we shouldn’t- fuck, I didn’t-”

“Eddie, it’s fine-

“No, it’s not fine!” his hands tangled in his own hair while he tried to find the words to explain himself. “This is all wrong, goddamnit-”

“Eddie, calm down-”

“Fuck, Chrissy is gonna kill me, I’m such a fucking idiot-”

“Ch-Chrissy?” Dottie whispered, but he didn’t hear her in the middle of his freakout.

Oh. Oh. She was so stupid. She couldn’t even blame him, she’d been influenced by her aunts and by Gareth - and of course, who wouldn’t be in love with Chrissy Cunningham, Head Cheerleader and Queen of Hawkins High? She was so kind, and friendly, with her gorgeous eyes and warm smiles. And by his own admission, if she was going to kill him, well, that certainly meant she returned Eddie’s affections, did it not? She’d be an idiot not to love Eddie back because Eddie was so loveable. Sweet, silly, wonderful Eddie who had just kissed his best friend and regretted it deeply. She had to get out of there if there was any hope of saving their friendship.

“I’m so sorry,” Dottie said, rushing out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

“Dot, wait!” Eddie followed her. He had to fix this, he had to tell her, he was gonna tell her- “What are you doing?”

“I’m really so sorry, Eddie, I didn’t know,” she got her damp clothes out of the washing machine; the cycle had probably ended in the middle of his upset rant and neither of them had heard it.

“Where are you going? It’s midnight!” he watched her shove her feet into her heels, not bothering with fastening the buckles before she opened his front door. He had to act fast or he was going to lose her forever.

“Eddie, please,” she asked, tears pooling in her eyes again, voice broken. “I just want to go home. Everything’s fine, I’ll see you on Monday-”

“No!” he threw himself onto the door, closing it again effectively locking her in. “Y-you can’t leave like this! What are you gonna do, walk home in your heels? Are you insane?”

“Please, I’m sorry,” she sobbed, breaking his heart into a million tiny pieces. “We can forget this all happened, please, just let me go!”

“No!”

“Eddie!”

“No! We need to talk about this!”

“There’s nothing to talk about! I didn’t know you were dating her, just let me-”

“Wait, what?” It was Eddie’s turn to be confused. “I’m not dating anyone, what are you talking about?”

“I’m not fucking deaf, Ed! You just said Chrissy was gonna kill you!”

“Yes, but that’s not- Fuck! That’s not what I meant! She’s dating Jason Carver, for fuck’s sake!”

“It’s okay if you like her, she’s fucking perfect-” she babbled, fat tears leaving tracks on her cheeks.

“You’re fucking perfect! God, fuck, this is not what I-” Eddie took the clothes out of her arms and threw them into the living room, pulling her into his arms again.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” she shrieked, trying to get away from him but he held on tight, throwing her onto his shoulder and sitting her down onto the kitchen counter.

“I made Kool-Aid!”

“What? I don’t want fucking Kool-Aid-”

“Just stop arguing!” he yelled, effectively shutting her up. “I made apple Kool-Aid.”

“...I love apple Kool-Aid,” she said, for lack of a better response.

“I know,” he said, leaning back and looking at her sitting between his arms, palms on the cold surface of his kitchen countertop. “That’s why I keep buying it. For you.”

An ugly sob bubbled up out of her throat and she hid her face in her hands. She wasn’t strong enough to keep fighting with him, and when he hugged her again, fingers tangling back under her ears, she simply bowed her head and cried harder. Eddie kissed her hair and held her, letting her release all the pent up emotions that were swirling in her mind. When she breathed a little bit easier, he looked at her, drying her tears with his thumbs.

“Can I trust you to stay here while I get the Kool-Aid?” he asked, softly.

Dottie nodded, so he moved away from her to get the pitcher out of the fridge. He filled a mug first, watching her legs swinging lightly back and forth while she sniffled and picked at her nails, and stopped before filling the next one. She saw him frown and look around the kitchen before finding what he was looking for: a yellow ceramic mug with a gnome playing the accordion on the front. A couple of weeks ago, the teens had been studying in the trailer on the small table in the kitchen, and Dottie had mentioned to Wayne she was gonna get him a hat with her college logo when she was in Michigan so he could add it to his collection. He’d glowed at that, joking that he was gonna tell everyone his niece was a genius and that he’d leave her her favorite mug in his will in return. The two of them had spent around 30 minutes going through every mug until she decided on one, all while Eddie worked on his homework with a dumb smile on his face. She’d picked a yellow mug with gnome playing the accordion on the front, the very same mug Eddie was now gently putting into her hands filled with apple Kool-Aid he allegedly kept buying because he knew it was her fave flavor.

They sipped their juice in silence until Dottie calmed down, holding onto the mug with both hands for comfort. Eddie stood there, waiting for her to say anything and when it became clear she was not gonna be the first one to talk, he put his mug down and turned to her, pulling on the hem of her borrowed boxers.

“Hey,” he said, ducking his head down to look her into the eyes. She made a small sound of acknowledgment but kept staring at the liquid between her hands. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t like Chrissy,” he kept going.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“Yes, I do. I really fucking do,” he took her mug out of her hands and ducked a bit more. “Dot, look at me. Please.”

“Eddie, it’s fine-”

“I’m kind of insanely in love with you.”

“What?” Dottie breathed out, eyes widening.

“Darling, I haven’t been able to even look at anyone else since the day I met you. I’m so fucking obsessed with you it’s actually embarrassing,” he smiled at her, finally hitting her with the full force of his confession.

“You… you like me?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, lifting her hand and kissing her gauze covered knuckles. “Chrissy has been helping me plan how to ask you out. We’re not secretly dating, she knows I’m crazy about you.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know,” Dottie murmured, ashamed that she’d jumped the gun with her conclusions.

“You couldn’t know, that was the whole point,” he chuckled. “I was gonna ask you out after graduation, I wanted to have our diplomas and everything but then you kissed me and… you’re awfully impatient, has anyone ever told you that?”

“God, I’m an idiot,” she laughed, hitting her forehead with her palm. “How long had you been planning that?”

“Since around your birthday,” he admitted, and she groaned. “I would have asked you earlier but I wanted to set things straight before, y’know? I wanted to graduate first, maybe get a job, I dunno… Give you what you deserve. Instead you get… this,” he waved his hand around. “Sorry.”

“Eddie, I’m so in love with you, it’s not even funny. What are you talking about?”

“What?”

“Oh my god, we’re both idiots!” Dottie groaned again, and he laughed in disbelief.

“You’re in love with me?”

“Yes! Why did you think I kissed you?!”

“I mean, I kinda figured out you liked me, but love, darling, that’s… That’s a lot.”

“You just said you are “kinda insanely in love” with me, what do you mean it’s a lot?” she looked at him like he had just told her the sky was green.

“Well, yeah, but- that’s different! I’m me!”

“Okay, what the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know, I just- fuck, I love you and I really, really want to kiss you right now. Would that be okay, darling? Can I kiss you?”

She shook her head at him like he had just said the stupidest thing on Earth and wrapped her arms around him, bringing him forward and pressing their lips together again. Eddie laughed against her mouth, hands coming up to cup the sides of her jaw, thumbs rubbing circles into her skin. They kissed with no hurry and no other motives than to just kiss, savoring the moment like a cold sip of water after a long race. There were no more places to hide, no more shadows lurking in the background. It was just them under the mismatched light bulbs in the Munson kitchen, two mugs and a pitcher filled with Kool-Aid, and limbs tangling with one another, scratching an itch that had once seemed impossible to relieve.

Eddie moved his lips from hers to her cheek, up her nose and eyelids until he reached her forehead and stayed there, just breathing in and basking in the knowledge that they’d jumped off a cliff together and had landed on the other side unscathed. There were so many conversations to be had, so many things to be said, but this was more than okay for him now. This was enough, and for the first time in his whole life, he was enough. Dottie’s hands moved under his shirt, lightly running her short nails over his skin, the motion calming and grounding him. He was hers, and she was his, and there was nothing else that mattered anymore. The waters were calm. The locked padlocks remained in place, but the keys weren’t forgotten or hidden anymore. She felt at peace in a way she had never once felt before, knowing that no matter what came next, they would face it together. She yawned once, burrowing further into his skin, and he chuckled.

“Wanna go to bed now?” he asked, softly.

“Yes, please,” she replied.

Eddie helped her off the counter and let her get comfy in his room while he finished getting ready for bed, turning all the lights off and brushing his teeth with a dazed expression on his face. He found her tucked in on the left side of his bed, the one closest to the wall and realized that he could get used to this so easily. He was sure that once she went home the next day, he’d have trouble falling asleep until she was back next to him, nuzzling into his chest and wearing his clothes. They cuddled in silence, soft touches in the darkness, just exploring skin and calming rapid heartbeats with innocent caresses that revealed just how much they’d longed for this. There would be time for bolder actions, but tonight they just wanted to hold each other tight and never let go. Eddie, however, had one more question to ask before sleep could whisk them away to Dreamland.

“Darling?”

“Mhm?”

“I don’t want to, like, ruin the moment, but… what happens now?”

“Dunno. What do you want to happen?” she asked, moving her leg on top of his so he could shuffle closer to her.

“Can we maybe not tell people this happened so I can ask you out like I planned?” he said, shyly. “I just… I want to do things right with you. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You’re not fucking anything up, Ed. But sure, we can pretend this didn’t happen and I’ll act surprised when you ask me out,” she rolled her eyes playfully.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” he squeezed her closer. “I meant it more like… not telling the guys? You can tell your Dad if you want, though.”

“How about this?” she said, reaching up and kissing his jaw sweetly. “We don’t tell anyone anything, and my Dad doesn’t get an aneurysm every time he sees you. Sound good?”

“You want to lie to your Dad?”

“Not forever. We can tell him before I leave for college. You’re gonna come see me, right?” Dottie asked, hopeful.

“Baby, Michigan is only three hours away. They’re gonna think I’m your roommate with how often I’m gonna be there,” he pecked her hairline.

“Baby?”

“Just trying it on. D’you like it?”

“I love it. And I love you.”

“Fuck, I’ll never get tired of that. I love you,” he chuckled, leaning in to kiss her. “Okay, we won’t tell anyone so your Dad doesn’t murder me.”

“I have one condition though.”

“Okay?”

“I still get to kiss you when we’re alone.”

“You just want me to be your dirty little secret, don’t you?” Eddie joked, poking her side.

“I’ll be yours too if that helps,” she said, cheekily.

“Oh, don’t tempt me with a good time, princess,” he said with a mischievous tone. “Who knows? Might be fun to sneak around all summer.”

Half an hour later, when they were finally falling asleep between soft kisses and whispered sweet nothings, they both agreed that a little bit of teenage disobedience might just be the missing piece they didn’t know they were looking for to complete their perfect summer before officially being adults. After all, it always looked so much fun in movies, right?

taglist (comment below or send me an ask if you want to be added!): @munsonology @kurdtbean @every1lovesanunderdog @eg-dr3amer3

[batsplat]

feel free to completely ignore this ask but i’ve been reading through your tennis posts and. god!! thank you!! so many great takes. i love this sport and will probably die watching it but the atp is really so dire at the moment and the wta is… well, it’s a lot better (mainly bc it actually has a competitive top ten with fun personalities), but i still think the rivalries could be more compelling

but if we’re talking about narrative atrocities then the atp is clearly mostly at fault. i find it crazy how so many people on tennisblr love sincaraz? just. nothing there to grab onto. way worse than fedal. i don’t really enjoy their match up stylistically (peaked with uso 2022 but these days it feels like all there is to say is “wow these guys really can hit the ball hard”. the most compelling angle i can find on them plotwise is that brief period of time around the china swing where it seemed like sinner was finally leaning into the bromance with alcaraz but only as a pr tactic to distract from the doping thing. bc at least that’s kinda messy

and i also like meddy but that’s been. um. a bit excruciating lately. truthfully my real fav is dan evans so this is possibly my own fault for not picking someone who looked even vaguely like a slam contender to back

i do have to say i find alcaraz’s flopping kinda compelling though. there’s clearly a mental struggle/adhd lack of focus there that a lot of people attribute to him being 21 but idk if he’ll ever iron out. i think there’s a realistic world in which he keeps peaking for a couple of tournaments a year but otherwise falls off & is dramatically overtaken by sinner/maybe fonseca/some other people & is kind of a precursor to their era… on the other hand maybe he’ll pull it together and i’ll just sit here with dan evans

oh please, my average ask response time is about 4-6 months but for tennis hater asks that dives down to under 24 hours. (pretend like I actually answered this in 24 hours. I would have if it hadn't been NYE.) I too obviously do not get why sinner/alcaraz are so popular, I mean I didn't get why federer/nadal are so popular so this is just a continuation of a theme for me. it's all been downhill since sampras/agassi, I keep saying. I don't even WANT to be annoying about this, I try not to be that picky, it's just that I thought we were getting a chaos era post big 3 for at least like,, a couple years. this is my issue right, I'm not even saying sinner/alcaraz and federer/nadal are ontologically evil (maybe), I'm just saying that if you win THAT much, you'd better have some insane narrative juice to keep it interesting. and quite frankly, the number of athletes in the history of sports who could make me enjoy that level of domination is probably in like,, the low double digits at best. but these guys aren't even trying!! for shame

as for popularity, idk, I guess people will just like any blokes who are good at sport. I don't really know what goes on in tennis tumblr, I never sought out that community (though I think some of my posts kinda accidentally breached containment, which is!! fine!! you guys are welcome! but also don't take any of my mouthing off seriously pretty please) BUT my general sense is that it's a lot of love for two tennis rivalries that I personally find... well. eh! well. now look, I do have to admit that I prefer my sports rivalries with a bit more antagonism and bitterness and resentment, I love a good feud. but it's not a non-negotiable requirement! I think the most important thing for me is having... well, stakes. I kind of need to feel like some of these losses are making a part of the loser's soul die with it. like they want and need it so badly and it'll also hurt if they lose. the most infamous encounters aren't just great because they're great in sporting terms, but they're great because they meant something to the athletes involved. you don't get a do-over, it's not just one of many encounters, it's something a bit sadder and uglier and broken... that's where the narrative juice comes from, the stakes. if you don't care then why should I, right

and this is broadly my issue with sinner/alcaraz. like,, if they lose, they'll be fine, right. obviously they really want to win, but it's also recoverable. they don't get sick at the thought of losing to each other. it's not a low point for them, it's not something they struggle to put behind them, it's not something that eats away at them. idk, sue me, I want the angst! I also think the rivalry peaked at uso 2022 - and it's not just because the tennis was so excellent, it's because it genuinely felt like sinner might have lost an opportunity and wouldn't be able to make up for it and it looked like it hurt. (I mean, I knew he'd make up for it because I have always had faith sinner would eventually be a multiple slam winner, but y'know for the non-enlightened people.) that was actually the most compelling stretch of the rivalry for me! where sinner was still kinda frail (bodily weakness as a substitute for a personality but we move) and was an okay player who only peaked when he played alcaraz. so there it was kind of... alcaraz really invested in a rivalry with this guy who isn't quite good enough to keep up until he's playing alcaraz. fine, it's not 'symbols of unity in a divided nation until one accused the other of cheating and the other said they'd never been friends at all' levels of narrative juice, but you can work with that. whatever. except obviously even that has been ruined because sinner doesn't even have the graciousness to still suck. I'm sick of these people!! sick to my stomach

and yeah I mean the drug thing is what counts as narrative tension these days... I did enjoy how sinner/alcaraz stonks briefly plummeted with alcaraz's extremely lukewarm response to sinner's little clostebol situation. similar to my schadenfreude when federer didn't show up to nadal's retirement, it's the little things in life. I honestly sort of stopped paying attention to men's tennis after uso so I didn't really know about the *gestures* asian swing sinner/alcaraz situation, though I suppose that would be theoretically interesting. it's not even that I think cold-blooded guys like sinner are inherently boring, it's just him specifically that's boring because he never DOES anything. henin was cold-blooded!! she would do anything to win, including some pretty blatant cheating! we used to be a proper sport! and while I broadly agree that I think the wta isn't like,,, at its PEAK potential - beyond the protagonists just being way more interesting as people than the atp lot, I do also think there's a couple very key differences between something like the sinner/alcaraz rivalry and, say, the swiatek/sabalenka rivalry

first off, I've stress tested this and know for a fact that iga does become less palpable for me if she isn't fallible - we tried this out in 2022, I got bored of her, I didn't hate her like I would an atp player but it did feel pretty tedious to me. NOW I am extremely hooked and cannot WAIT to see what year she'll have. I'm rooting for her!! I know I've said this before but igatha and sublanko really do benefit from how much they're visibly fighting demons. angst is good, struggle is good, they both look desperate to beat each other. I don't support broadcasters showing backstage video of them after their defeats as a matter of principle, but we've had one us open where we've seen aryna demolish a racquet after a defeat followed by another us open where we've seen iga cry and... it's humanising. I care because they're fallible and quite frankly a lot of the time they seem like they're barely holding it together. introverted vs extroverted, both intense but in completely different ways, massive contrast in everything about them including how they express their emotions - but they both frequently look like they might die if they don't win the next point. if I were on either of their teams, I would be working very hard on their ability to regulate their emotions (and tbf sublanko has gotten better at this). objectively, you do want to be a sinner-type on the court. but I am not being employed by any professional tennis player (open to requests though) and As A Fan, on-court disasters is what I want

secondly. I saw this going around a few days ago --

-- and my immediate response was 'aww'. which, idk, I obviously wouldn't have that reaction with sinner/alcaraz, or indeed any current men's rivalry. I did some self-examination to check whether this was just the misandry talking, but I think the crucial difference to me is that... well, they did dislike each other for a while! it wasn't a FEUD but it was definite tension. and now they've played a bunch and now they're getting warmer towards each other, and it feels more meaningful since there's actually an arc. and they're two interesting characters with an interesting relationship and I want to see where it'll go. it's not noughties wta but crucially the tennis is fun AND and and I don't go into every single tournament thinking one of two players will win it. now, if that were the case on the wta tour, then I probably would need iga and aryna to step up their narrative juice game. but as it currently stands, we're good

and on the alcaraz point.... I mean, maybe. ideologically, I am a big believer that people pay too much attention to slams. but idk, men's tennis kinda kills me on this because I've watched djokovic faff about at various tour-level events for years before locking in the second it gets to slams. if we're being honest in men's tennis it kinda is all about the slams because that's the tier that has been so completely and violently gatekept for so long. so I know that alcaraz fans do have to deal with some ups and downs but also like... I can't lie! at this point I would quite literally sacrifice at least a toe, possibly even two, for someone I like to have a bad year where they win two slams! my sympathy is limited! and then if anything it's even MORE annoying for me because I don't LIKE following the sport week in week out if I don't feel like I'm being emotionally rewarded for that commitment because none of that shit matters anyway. I think ideally you have a bunch of storylines on tour level that culminate in the slams. but in men's tennis, it feels like there's always only one show in town. you can fool yourself for a while that there isn't, but reality always inevitably comes calling

to actually engage with the substance of the alcaraz point and take my own emotion out of this, I do think it's true that alcaraz is 'underperforming' to some extent and a lot of it's psychological. my nuclear hot take about the jcf relationship is that I'm happy for everyone who thinks the dynamic has lovely vibes, but it's a lot of credit being given to someone who came in when the most important work had already essentially been done and still hasn't exactly fixed alcaraz's shot selection. alcaraz's floor is still too low, when he plays badly he plays really bad - and maybe it is partly a concentration thing, but I really don't think it's an unfixable problem. if it were completely a concentration/motivation thing, an ability to peak for big finals that falls away elsewhere, then maybe yes, but it's way more concrete and basic things where I feel like he rarely gets the balance quite right. a lot of the times it doesn't matter because he's so obscenely talented he really doesn't have to be playing the percentages, and I do agree on principle with the idea you don't want to overly regulate him to avoid taking his love for the game. but... you do need some patterns, you do need to make your plan a and plan b not so violently different, you need to come up with some ways of modulating your levels of offence that aren't 100% attacking absolutely everything or just using your athleticism to chase after balls. there's room in between! galaxies of space in between! and look, I'm old-fashioned, I also don't like how much ferrero coaches alcaraz because I don't think that's how tennis should work. but I'm not one of those people who thinks alcaraz is some hack fraud who would be 'exposed' without ferrero - I do however think it's a crutch and one that alcaraz should probably rethink for his own sake. because fundamentally, coaching can only do so much in the moment. talent and instinct are great, and maybe alcaraz just doesn't need more than that to make his choices for him. but if I were working on that team, I would be taking a long hard look at his decision making within points, and I wouldn't wait until he's in the middle of the point to do it

(but also I think he'll be fine because he's just that good lol, like if he's physically okay I really struggle to see all these other players overtaking him. maybe this is big three brain talking but idk just feels deeply unlikely)

as for the actual alcaraz/sinner match-up, I do think it's Fine but also we have to be honest with ourselves here and say that they've played one great match and played a lot of great... moments. that miami (?) 2023 point everyone remembers, it's great, but also the match it was in wasn't exactly a classic - and that's been one of the better ones. the roland garros match last year was actively terrible and nobody will convince me otherwise. it is vaguely interesting in that it's two very offence-inclined players who express that inclination in very different ways, and alcaraz is constantly dancing on the line of attempting to overhit against sinner. but also... idk, linear bashing isn't exactly my favourite style anyway in men's tennis and it's... you're not really allowed to say this as a tennis fan, but I don't really emotionally connect with alcaraz's tennis. my brain knows how brilliant it is, my heart doesn't feel it. I've tried, I really have. idk... maybe it's because he's just too talented, something in me almost feels like it devalues it, like it's making the impossible mundane. I just need more tension, even though he's been a loose cannon this past year I never really believe he's going to lose until he's lost. I get why his tennis makes everyone go crazy, but idk. I think I need to feel the possibility of failure to enjoy success. I can appreciate alcaraz's shots, I do very often, there's a backhand slice on the run passing shot he hit on some clay court a couple years ago I still regularly think about. but alas, my heart remains cold. what can you do

anyway. that's my first tennis hater post of the new year. people seem to keep coming back for more. extremely unenthused about men's ao (djokovic playing monfils later on in the year of our lord 2k25, they need to take this sport out back and shoot it), extremely hype for the girlies. I'm actually FINE with not being a MASSIVE fan of any of the top players, passionately rooting for scrubs and just enjoying the drama at the top as a mostly neutral bystander - which is ideally what you'd get from a dan evans stan-type gig, but unfortunately that doesn't really work if you actively despise most of the top players. I have no real opinions on fonseca as yet, I'm not really a huge wunderkind person in general unless they're so juiced up on the narrative they're on the verge of overdosing, but also where I'm at with sinner it might end up being some type of enemy of my enemy arrangement. or maybe I'll find him even more annoying!! lord knows I was rooting for sinner in that uso 2022 match. I had this moment in like 2017 where federer was making his comeback and I realised I'd had enough - and then eventually I got lured back in with the promise of the nextgen. the less said about how that's going the better. this situation isn't getting better I reckon... the time has come once again. it is what it is

[pokimoko]

🍒 🍊 🍍 n 🥝!

Thank you for the fruit, my fruit. 💜

🍒 What’s your favorite character dynamic to write? (Can be romantic or platonic, specific or general!)

Platonic for sure! Anything found family is my jam, and I particularly love writing sibling dynamics, blood-related or otherwise. I also like writing F/M friendships because I enjoy them and I think they should be normalised more, honestly (though, truthfully, those always end up falling in the sibling dynamic category as well). I also like writing QPRs, though I haven't really had the opportunity to write many, but they hold a special place in my heart.

🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more?

Bucky Barnes, definitely; sure, I wrote one fairly long fic about him, but that was one fic; I was obsessed with the guy long and hard enough that there should be at least a few more. But nope. I did plan out a whole sequel to said long fic as well as prequels but those never really came into fruition unfortunately. Not sure if I'll write for him anyone soon but god I've had so many plot ideas about the guy over the years that I just never wrote. Still fond of the 'Bucky bonds with Cosmo the Space Dog' idea I came up with back in 2021. I wrote a post it note but nothing more. Ah. Maybe one day.

Aside from him, I'd say Jake Lockley. I definitely need to write more of him and I want to. He can be a bit hard to pin down character-wise because we were given nothing more than crumbs, but I also enjoy the freedom that offers too. He definitively hasn't been getting enough love from me. But hopefully that will change soon.

🍍 What kind of AUs do you like? Are there any AUs you hate or just generally have beef with?

I generally avoid AUs; in fact, I exclude most of the more popular ones (Collage, High School, Coffee Shop, etc) from my searches because I'm really not fussed about reading them. I just find writers often strip the characters of any distinguishabilty to the point of them being basically a different character (not their fault, really; changing the setting and origin changes the character's experiences and dynamics, which fundamentally changes them, and that can be a difficult thing to wrangle). Some people, though, absolutely excel at using the AU and the worldbuilding therein to explore deeper into the character, their dynamics and motivations from a viewpoint that is different yet still feels like it aligns with what's been established in canon, and I love when it's done right. So I don't avoid AUs completely. Just really picky about them.

As for the ones I like, I like Alternative Universes in the most classic sense of term, where universes are defined by a path not chosen, a mistake not made. That is to say, I really like Canon Divergence and What If? scenarios. Anything that keeps the characters and world somewhat familiar but their dynamics and/or motivations altered. (Also love when alternate selves—or even selves from different points of the same timeline—meet and get to see the verion of themself they could have been if things had been different and/or interact with who they were before that Great Terrible Thing changed them.) For more extreme alterations, I'm not against a well written Fantasy/Sci-fi AU or Fusion AUs (so long as it's not an all-out crossover and the fusion is not all-consuming).

I am not a fan of No Powers/No Magic/Human AUs (or Modern Setting AUs if the original setting isn't modern). That's Just Some Guy in a Just Some Guy world now (which always looks suspiciously like our own). And powers/non-humaness is generally tied up a lot with the character themself, so stripping that from them removes a lot of who they are, in my opinion. And as we established, I'm really picky about characterisation. I don't much care for Soulmate AUs either, but that's a whole amatonormativity essay I won't get into.

Also I wouldn't say I have beef with Coffee Shop AUs, I just will never understand them, and I don't mean in a "urgh why is this so popular" kind of way, I mean I literally don't understand. I don't drink coffee and I've been inside Starbucks maybe once (mostly to gawk because I rarely come across them, even in the city), so words like venti and frappe and just coffee culture in general flies over my head, and I do not care enough about coffee to learn. It is simply a fic space I am not meant to inhabit. I have made my peace with that.

🥝 What’s your favorite trope/AO3 tag to write?

Character Studies are my happy place, my life blood if you will. Is it obvious yet I'm obsessed with exploring characters and their dynamics with others? Because I am. I am nothing more than a clockmaker taking these characters apart to see what makes them tick, and how the gears of the world and those around them fit into it all. Other tags and tropes I'm fond of are and that show up a lot in my writing include: angst (duh), unreliable narrators, memory loss/amnesia (guilty pleasure), dream sequences/unreality, hey! let me patch up your wounded hand, forehead kisses, extended metaphors, horror as a metaphor because I'm pretentious and was fundamentally changed as a person by being taught Gothic and Romantic Literature in my senior school years, and finally mind control/posession (guiltier pleasure).

---

Always a blast getting to answer questions like these, thank you! :D. There's more fruits/questions here if anyone else wants to send some in.

[a-kaash-me-outside]

Gurl …… !

that was so gross and disrespectful on Atsumu’s part?? The way that he chooses to speak to y/n over what was clearly not meant to be a jab at him. if he’d used his brain for 2 seconds he would’ve figured out it was y/n’s insecurities coming out in the form of what was kind of a tasteless joke. Ahhh If i were her I wouldn’t have stuck around to witness the fuckery of someone so spiteful and immature. Also the way that he treats other women is such a red flag wtf! Just because the other women aren’t the one you have a crush on doesn’t mean you can treat them like disposable tissues omgg. The fact that all it takes is a misunderstanding and he’s ready and willing to use a woman as a prop to make another woman upset says a lot about him! And to do it during intimacy when women generally feel more vulnerable!!! I doubt the girl he brought back gave consent to be listened in on and used as a revenge tactic!! Who knows maybe she would’ve been chill with it if he’d asked but judging by her reaction he evidently didn’t so we’ll never know hahahahahah

And like yea sure y/n technically shouldn’t be upset because they aren’t TECHNICALLY boyfriend and girlfriend but.. why would you wanna be with someone who justifies their shitty behaviour on a technicality lol

I was all for mr tsumu but now I’m looking at the way that maki reacts when he’s jealous and the way Atsumu reacts and it’s clear who is the more mature man!! Oof. I’m scared of what Oikawa and the guys are gonna do when they find out how much of an asshole Atsumu is!!

Once again, thank you for the brilliant chapter! This one got me riled up and I’ll be waiting in anticipation for next week!!

SEE OKAY. this, in comparison to the ask RIGHT BEFORE? incredible. i absolutely love the different thoughts and perspectives and how people FEEL ABOUT THE END OF THE CHAPTER UGH.

(bunch more thoughts under the cut, but like... it's so long i made it a read more LMAO)

the thought of yn staying around (which i mentioned in a previous ask) because i thought abt yn leaving and going to maki's or calling maki or something was literally just yn stuck in processing feelings, almost shock and disbelief causing her to see if she really has a need to process really difficult feelings

I'VE ALSO kinda thought a lot about like oh is he just using all of these people to have sex w and the answer is like yea ok sure yes, but also, that's kinda just sex culture. truthfully, i wrote him having a lot of sex as like not really a bad thing? him having a lot of sex with people who kinda just want the same thing as him, just yknow, sex no feelings, isn't uncommon and i don't think makes him an asshole. doubly because i don't write anything about him talking shit about the people he has sex with or looking down on them for doing what he does because he doesn't or like leading them on or anything? he's really straight forward with these things. which i've kinda written about in little bits?

HOWEVER yea no the other points you made are super valid. i'm not trying to excuse this time (the end of ch6) because no, yeah, uncalled for and absolutely gross and very bad, BUT YEA. kinda background on how i felt about other stuff with it :)

i do think that the whole "it's just a technicality" thing goes a bit deeper than that. like it is just a technicality sure yes, but it goes both ways. she clearly doesn't want to be something more with him despite the times that he's tried to push it into that? but she still flirts with him and acts like a couple with him so it's a weird line to thread. AND can we also just all remember that she literally almost had sex with maki, ABSOLUTELY WOULDVE just a few short weeks ago. just a thOGUHT. ( but yea no maki's mvp always has been love that guy )

and YKNOW i did say that the angst was coming I WARNED EVERYONE ABOUT THIS hehe. excited to hear your thoughts about how everything wraps up !!!

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary296

7/11/24

thursday

have eaten ice cream. feeling depressed.

not about eating ice cream. just because i freaking cut my hair today and i think i cut the sides too short and it makes me sad like really sad like my hair was pretty now the sides are too short i think and i just hate my face but i think it frames my face a little better or something or i don't even know i'm just sad because i think i am making myself uglier and uglier or maybe i am just getting really ugly now, suddenly. i can't think that way or else i will jsut go and hurt myself . but i don't feel good. i feel really stupid. i make my bangs too wide i think is one thing. i could just let the sides grow out a little longer i think. but i am stupid. i am stupiddddddd. i hate my face and panic like an animal in quick sand and cut cut cut until i feel better but then i look and feel worse and i know or think i know no one would really even see a difference. i am just so stupid it hurts myself. it hurts to be inside myself.

so i am just sitting here listening to katie dey's flood network feeling very stupid and tired already at 8 pm.

i sent the email to the cassette guy with the j-card stuff + the wavs all labeled and everything. hope he sees that and is like "cool" and then i'll be like "cool."

anyways. i dunno what else to say. i cooked today and that was nice, and my gf was watching joe biden fall apart on her computer, and i asked about the future, and she said if it gets bad she will hide me away. i really love her, i wish i were not something that might impede her life in any way. does my presence in her life make it less easy for her to be normal, does being not normal make her life harder?

i guess that's how that works, by definition.

i am also upset today because i did cut my bangs they aren't too short i think it's just the sides went too high i guess. i should have tried to just keep it a little bit um more of an oval thing, more pronounced i guess. i hate that i can't feel okay about myself longer than a day i hate feeling ugly all the time i can't take it anymore sometimes or that's how i feel. it's really hard.

maybe the final piece of beauty being labor is that, like much labor, it's final piece which consummates or completes it, makes it true, is the faith essentially in its completion or its end. this isn't to say anyone needs to feel that for it to be complete, but the notion is that as one labors and suffers, one puts stock into what makes that suffering occur in the first place. there is a point. feeling pretty, at the end of all the labor, this is a final piece which creates prettiness, maybe the most important part, the faith is the most important function in that most terrible labor where one's self esteem is abandoned in favor of... i dunno... being image, maybe. but i was always image. so i dunno.

it makes me want to cry too much to think about. but my lack of faith in myself or its impossibility, the final part of being pretty is believing you are, i can't, but also, there's some kind of freedom in this. i know that my desire is one which hurts me. i just can't give it up. i wonder if cutting my hair is just something i do instead of cutting my arms.

just putting this here to break up the misery.

tomorrow i think i need to at a minimum work out 5 minutes of music for the short film, ideally, maybe 10 minutes. i kind of want the song to be continuous. though idk. i guess that might not work. i should just try 5-10 minutes in aggregate for the scenes i have been given. then maybe try and figure some lyrics out for stuff so i can work out new song-y songs to release for whatever is next.

i am tired and truthfully for some reason i want to wake up and have tomorrow be today and that none of this happened. i don't know why but since a kid i've felt that very much, a very regular feeling/wish.

anyway,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[argentisms]

Right now, Allison's grateful for how calm Lydia is about all of this. Truthfully, she's not sure she'd be able to keep herself from spinning to orbit if they were both on edge. The change in conversation from their crisis of the week to a conversation about boys and relationships has her grip on the steering wheel loosening. It reminds her to not put on horse blinders and focus solely werewolves, Scott, and the chaos that it's brought their lives... The last time she let it consume her, she'd tried to kill multiple people, nearly losing herself in the process. Allison is terrified that she'll reach that point again, afraid it will only take one push in the wrong direction for her to wreck all the progress she's made. Her promise to stay out of things and try to be normal quickly fell apart -- It wouldn't be entirely surprising to her if she was sent back down the psychotic hunter rabbit hole because of the Alpha pack.

The change in conversation pulls her back ashore, keeps her from feeling like she's drowning under all of the things she's taken on. She approaches the topic of what's going on between Lydia and Stiles with caution, though she can't help the bit of excitement she feels at the idea. "I think that's okay." She answers with a nod, reassuring her best friend. "The whole not deciding yet thing. It's better to take it slow and figure it out together, you know?" Allison continues, before giving Lydia a wry smile. "I think it's a good thing, though." She shares, but understands the fear behind the sentiment. It's the same mix of emotions she feels when Scott shows her kindness, despite knowing the horrible things she's done. He knows her, with every scar and bruise that comes along with it. In the same way Stiles knows Lydia. "Are you guys keeping this -- You know, a secret? Who else knows?" Allison finds herself asking for clarifications sake, not wanting to accidentally drop a bomb on whatever is going on with her two friends.

A sigh passes her lips as Allison shakes her head, giving Lydia a look. "You're enjoying this too much." The sarcasm in her tone is evident. Her nose wrinkles as she gives an answer. "I didn't sleep with him, if that's what you're wondering." That plan had been derailed by her, once again, being unable to get a grip on her emotions. Which ultimately, had been for the best -- Sure, she and Isaac got along, and seemed to work well together, but anything more than that was a bad idea. In every possible way. "We're friends. Just friends." Whether or not Isaac realizes that... Allison's hoping he's a quick study. Lydia's next question prompts hesitation, wishing she had a simple answer. "We're not -- We're just... I don't know. Nothing's changed." The code is still the code, whether she likes it or not. "Things are still complicated, in the same way they have been for the last year. I keep feeling like I'm in some weird limbo, and every time I try to stop it or put distance, he ends up back in my bed." Another pause follows, letting her words hang in the air for a moment. Allison hadn't actually spoken about what's going on between her and Scott, not with its most recent developments. "I kind of... told him I love him." She makes a face, giving her friend a look. "When I was drunk, the night of your birthday." Shaking her head, she adds: "I don't know if that's good or bad."

Despite her nonchalance, Lydia is worried about Scott. Even if she's just starting to dip her toes into the shadow world of their little town, Lydia has seen first hand how quickly werewolves heal. She'd watched Derek practically snap Jackson's arm in half one afternoon when he pushed the wrong button. The bone had reset before Jackson had even finished his outburst. So it's concerning that Scott isn't healing the way that one would expect him to. But Lydia can tell that Allison is on the verge of a breakdown over it, so she is happy to keep up the appearance of it not being a big deal while making a mental list of things to do to prepare for the worst case scenario. It's the same reason she doesn't push back when Allison lets the conversation veer into something else.

That something else being her and Stiles makes her want to clam up again. Out of instinct, Lydia wants to keep it all to herself. Nothing has ever worked out for her in the past before. She'd loved Jackson openly and loudly and when it blew up in her face, it had humiliated her. As a result, she hasn't let anything get anywhere near that serious since. She had been perfectly content with her steady rotation of completely unremarkable men that she had nothing in common with — until she wasn't. The idea of having something more than that is terrifying and the idea of having anyone — even Allison— as a witness to the potential heartbreak that comes with it is even worse. "I haven't decided yet." She answers the question honestly, shaking her head and gazing out the window. "It makes it more real. I can't hide behind the things I usually do with him. I don't know if that's good or bad." Good, probably, most people would tell her. A part of her sees it as good too. "We didn't really put a label on it at all, but friends with benefits would probably sum it up." It doesn't really feel like it comes close to touching on things, but Lydia keeps that to herself. "For now, anyways."

Lydia doesn't miss the cringe Allison gives when she asks about Isaac and it makes a petty, ugly part of the redhead feel smug. She hums, "uh huh. Does he know that?" As far as Lydia knows, Allison and Isaac never actually crossed that line. But there had been some flirting and heavy tension and it was obvious to Lydia that Isaac had been more than willing to do so if Allison was. She stops herself from asking what that's doing to the pack dynamics of everything, more out of curiosity than anything else. She can't imagine Scott and Isaac's relationship is completely normal with Allison ping-pong-balling between the two of them but at the end of the day, the pack dynamics are their problem, not Allison's and Lydia doesn't want to make her feel bad about it. "So," she draws it out, tongue clicking a little. "Does that mean you and Scott are back together?"

[maverickbabes]

If you loved me... Pt. 3 (Finale)

If you loved me...

Maverick x female!oc Rox

Warnings: angst, a splash of smut (if you squint), a few bits of cussing, fluffy fluff ending, Rox!oc.

Summary: Things between you two were going good, well even. But when your doubts and anxiety fill your head, you start to question a few things and hoping you got the good outcome of the scenarios.

A/N: sorry for the long wait but it's hereeee

Things for you and Maverick were going well, or at least that's what you thought. For you, he seemed like himself. Loving, Kind, Protective and a little possessive even. But for some reason you couldn't shake the gut feeling you had the past few days.

"Hey baby girl" Maverick says from behind you as he wraps his arms around you, kissing you on your shoulder and neck. You shake your head, bringing yourself back to reality as you placed your hands over his that were securely on your tummy. "Hi babe what's up?" You ask him as you turn around in his arms while he moved his hands onto your hips, seemingly not wanting to let you go or stop touching you.

You kinda liked it. How he was giving you all this attention. "Nothing I just wanted to come up to my girl and give her love and affection" He simply said before continuing to cover you in kisses anywhere he could. "Pete!" You giggled as your boyfriend lifted you up onto the counter while he kissed and sucked on your neck.

Right as things were heating up, you lose yourself in your thoughts and his touch. "Rox, I need you" He whispers against your neck as you let out a soft moan. "Then have me" you whispered as you played with his hair while looking him in the eyes. He carried you bridal style towards your bedroom where he laid you down and looked at you like you were a goddess. You guys made love and found why you were made for one another once more.

As time went on, You and Maverick felt happy and secure once more and that you guys can work this out. You were hanging out at the Hard Deck with Goose and Carole along with little Bradley who sat in your lap as he played with his toy plane. "How's things going with you guys" Carole asked, motioning towards Maverick who was with Goose at the dart board.

"Honestly, we're doing so well that it's almost unreal and too perfect. I almost feel like something bad is going to happen again" You said truthfully as you let out a sigh before looking over at him. "Honey, always trust your gut. I love Maverick I do, but if he's messing with you again and playing with your heart, then he doesn't deserve to have you at all" She explains, taking a sip of her ice tea and you sat there looking at your somewhat watered down soda.

On one hand, You felt as if life was perfect and you guys were finally doing good again, nothing could mess it up or ruin it. But on the other hand, You felt like something was up and he was hiding it from you and you didn't want to assume anything bad. Maybe it was nothing at all but the tiny feeling in your gut, feeling like it's being tied in knots from something bad wouldn't go away either.

"He would tell me if something was up, We made an agreement" You tried to argue but the look she gave you seemed like she wasn't convinced. "I'm not trying to fight, I'm just looking out for you because you're my best friend and I love you" She explains before giving you a hug which you returned as you contemplated on how you felt and what you thought.

If you loved me... you wouldn't hurt me, you wouldn't do this.

Later that night, as you got ready for bed you decided to rip the band aid off because you couldn't take it if he was lying to you again and just playing you. Maverick was in the bathroom brushing his teeth as you sat down on your bed trying to figure out how to start this conversation without it being a big fight. Maverick soon comes out of the bathroom and you take a deep breath readying yourself.

"Pete can I ask you something?" You said looking up at him as he sat down on the edge of the bed on your side. "Yes babe of course what's up?" He asks as he has this look of worry in his eyes since you called him by his first name. "Please be honest with me, don't lie to me" You stated as you felt your voice crack and he nodded his head, resting his hand on the bed.

'You can do this rox just ask him' You thought to yourself as you straighten up and look at him. "Are you hiding something? Are you playing me and just using me? Are you faking your love for me? Do you really lo-" You stop as you feel tears form in your eyes and slowly fall down your face as you felt your heart race.

"Whoa whoa hey calm down" Maverick says reaching out to hold you in his arms but you shook your head back and forth as your worst fear filled your head. You're scared of him leaving again, that he's going to put you through what he did the last time.

"Just tell me the truth because if you're fucking around tell me so I can save my heart the heart break" You say looking at him as tears continuously fell down your face and onto your damp shirt that was collecting your tears. He grabs your hands into his and strokes his thumb over them as he scooted closer to you.

"Baby, Rox I'm not leaving you. I love you with all my heart and I don't ever want you to doubt my love for you. Yes I fucked up in the past but I've learned. I don't want anyone else, I want you and you only. You make me happy. You make me wanna be a better man for you and for our future kids. You make me feel like I have someone and I don't ever want to lose you. I'm going to do whatever it takes to prove my love for you again just like I did the first time. I'll be patient with whatever you're thinking and I'll make sure I prove myself to you so you don't have to doubt me. I love you" He vows as he brings his hand to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

You let out a sob before tackling him onto the bed and just squeezing him as if he'll disappear in any moment. "I l-love you so much" You croak out as you bury your face in his neck while he holds you tightly. After 10 minutes of just laying there in each other's arms. You slowly get off of him and wipe your cheeks of any wetness that was left over from the tears and giggle at Maverick.

"What's so funny?" He asks as he straightens up and looks at you. "You have a smiley face on your shirt from my tears" You told him, still giggling at the masterpiece your tears left on his shirt. "Oh you dork!" He says before tackling you down onto the bed and starts tickling you. "Pete! Stop!" You yelled playfully through your giggles as you try to tackle him back.

At this moment, this simple moment you confirmed to yourself. He was your person. Your soulmate. He was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and you wouldn't want it any other way.

A/n: might fix this up a little and add more details but I hope you like it