#which is a good thing none of those apply to you but are you sure??

[clown-machine]

everyone experiences most of these to some degree just pick one to be mad at rn lol

[yuribalisms]

Essentially what it is all boiling down to is I have fully realized I am bad at being a person, that will always be true, and I don’t know how to handle that

[carriesthewind]

Oh dear.

So as some of you may know, I love to point and laugh at bad legal arguments. And as fun as legal dumpster fires are when they are made by people who aren’t lawyers but think this whole “law” thing seems pretty simple, it’s even funnier when an actual, barred attorney is the person dumping gallons of kerosene into the dumpster.

And oh boy folks, do I have a fun ride for y’all today. Come with me on this journey, as we watch a lawyer climb into the dumpster and deliberately pour kerosene all over himself, while a judge holds a match over his head.

The court listener link is here, for those who want to grab a few bowls of popcorn and read along.

For those of you who don’t enjoy reading legal briefs for cases you aren’t involved with on your day off (I can’t relate), I will go through the highlights here. I will screenshot and/or paraphrase the relevant portion of the briefs, and include a brief explainer of what’s going on (and why it’s very bad, but also extremely funny). (Also, I’m not going to repeat this throughout the whole write-up, so for the record: any statements I make about how the law or legal system works is referring exclusively to the U.S. (And since this is a federal case, we are even more specifically looking at U.S. federal law.) Also, I don’t know how you could construe any of this to be legal advice, but just in case: none of this is, is intended to be, or should be taken as, legal advice.)

First, let’s get just a quick background on the case, to help us follow along. In brief, this is a civil tort suit for personal injury based on defendant’s (alleged) negligence. The plaintiff is suing the defendant (an airline), because he says that he was injured when a flight attendant struck his knee with a metal cart, and the airline was negligent in letting this happen. The airline filed a motion to dismiss on the grounds that there is an international treaty that imposes a time bar for when these kind of cases can be brought against an airline, and the plaintiff filed this case too many years after the incident.

The fun begins when the plaintiff’s attorney filed an opposition to the motion to dismiss. (So far, a good and normal thing to do.) The opposition argues that the claim is not time-barred because 1) the time bar was tolled by the defendant’s bankruptcy proceedings (that is, the timer for the time limitation was paused when the defendant was in bankruptcy, and started again afterwords), and 2) the treaty’s time limit doesn’t apply to this case because the case was filed in state court before the state statute of limitations expired, and the state court has concurrent jurisdiction over this kind of case.

I’m struggling a bit to succinctly explain the second reason, and there’s a reason for that.

You see, the whole opposition reads a bit…oddly.

This is how the opposition begins its argument, and it’s…weird. The basic principle is...mostly correct here, but the actual standard is that when reviewing a motion to dismiss for failure to state a claim (which is what the defendant filed) the court must draw all reasonable factual inferences in the plaintiff’s favor. But even then, you don’t just put that standard in your opposition. You cite to a case that lays out the standard.

Because that’s how courts and the law work. The courts don’t operate just based on vibes. They follow statutory law (laws made by legislature) and case law (the decisions made by courts interpreting what those laws mean). You don't just submit a filing saying, "here's what the law is," without citing some authority to demonstrate that the law is what you say (or are arguing) it is.

Again, this isn’t wrong (although I'm not sure what it means by new arguments?), but it’s weird! And part of the reason it’s weird is that it is irrelevant to the defendant’s motion to dismiss. The defendant filed a motion stating that based on the facts in the complaint, the plaintiff has not stated a claim based on which relief can be granted, because the complaint is time barred by a treaty. There is no reason for this language to be in the opposition. It’s almost like they just asked a chatbot what the legal standards are for a motion to dismiss for a failure to state a claim, and just copied the answer into their brief without bother to double-check it.

The opposition then cites a bunch of cases which it claims support its position. We will skip them for now, as the defendant will respond to those citations in its reply brief.

The last thing in the brief is the signature of the lawyer who submitted the brief affirming that everything in the brief is true and correct. An extremely normal - required, even! - thing to do. This will surely not cause any problems for him later.

The next relevant filing is the defendant’s reply brief. Again, the existence of a reply brief in response to an opposition is extremely normal. The contents of this brief are…less so.

Beg pardon?

Just to be clear, this is not normal. It is normal to argue that the plaintiff’s cases are not relevant, or they aren’t applicable to this case, or you disagree with the interpretations, or whatever. It is not normal for the cases to appear to not exist.

Some highlights from the brief:

Quick lesson in how to read U.S. case citations! The italicized (or underlined) part at the beginning is the name of the case. If it is a trial court case, the plaintiff is listed first and the defendant second; if the case has been appealed, the person who lost at the lower court level (the petitioner/appellant) will be listed first, and the person who won at the lower level (the respondent/appellee) will be listed second. There are extremely specific rules about which words in these names are abbreviated, and how they are abbreviated. Next, you list the volume number and name of the reporter (the place where the case is published), again abbreviated according to very specific rules, then the page number that the case starts on. If you are citing a case for a specific quote or proposition, you then put a comma after the beginning page number, and list the page number(s) on which the quote or language you are relying on is located (this is called a “pincite”). Finally, you put in parenthesis the name of the court (if needed)(and again, abbreviated according to extremely specific rules) and the year the case was decided.

So the plaintiff’s response cited to Zicherman, which they said was a case from 2008 that was decided by the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals. However, the defendant was not able to find such a case. They were able to find a case with the same name (the same petitioner and respondent), but that case was decided by the U.S. Supreme Court in 1996, and the lower court cases associated with that case weren’t in the 11th circuit either. (The United States Reports is the only official reporter for the U.S. Supreme Court, and only includes SCOTUS decisions, so it’s not necessary to include the name of the court before the year it was decided.)

Just to be clear. The defendant’s brief is saying: the plaintiff cited and extensively quoted from these cases, and neither the cases nor the quotations appear to exist. These “cases” were not ancillary citations in the plaintiff’s brief. They were the authority it relied upon to make its arguments.

This is as close a lawyer can come, at this point in the proceedings, to saying, “opposing counsel made up a bunch of fake cases to lie to the court and pretend the law is something different than it is.”

That, “Putting aside that here is no page 598 in Kaiser Steel,” is delightfully petty lawyer speak for, “you are wrong on every possible thing there is to be wrong about.”

By page 5, the defendant has resorted to just listing all of the (apparently) made up cases in a footnote:

(skipping the citations to support this proposition)

This is where I return to my struggle to explain the opposition’s second reason why the motion to dismiss should not be granted. I struggled to explain the argument, because they failed to explain why the argument they were making (that plaintiffs can bring lawsuits against airlines in state court, and the state court have specific statutes of limitations for general negligence claims) was relevant to the question of whether the plaintiff’s specific claim against the airline was time barred by the treaty. Because 1) this case is in federal court, not state court, and 2) federal law - including treaties - preempts state law. Again, it’s almost like plaintiff’s attorney just typed a question about the time bar into a chatbot or something, and the machine, which wasn’t able to reason or actually analyze the issues, saw a question about the time to bring a lawsuit and just wrote up an answer about the statute of limitations.

We also end with a nice little lawyerly version of “you fucked up and we are going to destroy you.” The relief requested in the defendant’s original motion to dismiss was:

In their reply to the opposition, however:

“The circumstances” in this case, being the apparent fabrication of entire cases. Because courts tend to take that pretty seriously.

And the court took it seriously indeed. The defendant’s reply was docketed on March 15th of this year. On April 11th:

AKA: you have one week (an extremely prompt time frame for federal court) to prove to me that you didn’t just make up these cases.

On April 12th, the plaintiff’s attorney requests more time because he’s on vacation:

The judge grants the motion, but adds in another case that he forgot to include in his first order.

On April 25th, the plaintiff’s attorney files the following:

(And he lists the cases, with one exception, which he says is an unpublished decision.)

But he says of all of the cases except two, that the opinions…

Which is…nonsense?

First of all: if you cited a case, you had to get it from somewhere. Even unpublished opinions, if you are citing them in a brief, you are citing them because you pulled them off of westlaw or whatever. Which means you have access to the case and can annex it for the court. (There are even formal rules for how you cite unpublished opinions! And those rules include citing to where you pulled the damn case from!)

Secondly: remember that long digression I went into about how to read case citations? Remember that bit about how you include the name of the reporter (the place the case was published)? Yes, cases are published. They are printed in physical books, and they are published online in databases (e.g. lexis or westlaw). If the specific online database you are looking in does not have the case, you look somewhere else. If you have a judge telling you to get them a copy of the case Or Else, you track down a physical copy of the reporter if you need to and scan the damn thing yourself. You - literally - can’t just not have a copy of the case! (Especially published federal circuit court opinions, which multiple of these cases are! Those aren’t hard to find!)

And what kind of “online database” doesn’t include the entire opinion anyway? I’ve literally never heard of a case research database that only included partial opinions, because that wouldn’t be useful.

Maybe if we look at the attached annexed copies of the cases, that might give us some answers.

...

My friends, these things are just bizarre. With two exceptions, they aren’t submitted in any sort of conventional format. Even if you’ve never seen a legal opinion before, I think you can see the difference if you just glance through the filings. They are located at Docket entry #29 on Court Listener (April 25, 2023). Compare Attachments 6 and 8 (the real cases submitted in conventional format) to the other cases. Turning to the contents of the cases:

In the first one, the factual background is that a passenger sued an airline, then the airline filed a motion to dismiss (on grounds unrelated to the treaty's time bar), then the airline went into bankruptcy, then the airline won the motion to dismiss, then the passenger appealed. And the court is now considering that appeal. But then the opinion starts talking about how the passenger was in arbitration, and it seems to be treating the passenger like he is the one who filed for bankruptcy? It’s hallucinatory, even before you get to the legal arguments. The “Court of Appeals” is making a ruling overruling the district court’s dismissal based on the time bar, but according to the factual background, the case wasn’t dismissed based on the time bar, but on entirely other grounds? Was there some other proceeding where the claim was dismissed as time barred, and it’s just not mentioned in the factual background? How? Why? What is happening? Also it says Congress enacted the treaty? But, no? That’s…that’s not how treaties work? I mean, Congress did ratify the treaty? But they didn’t unilaterally make it!

In the second case, there’s an extended discussion of which treaty applies to the appellants claims, which is bizarre because there are two relevant treaties, and one replaced the other before the conduct at issue, so only the new treaty applies? There isn’t any discussion of the issue beyond that basic principle, so there is no reason there should be multiple paragraphs in the opinion explaining it over and over? Also, it keeps referring to the appellant as the plaintiff, for some reason? And it includes this absolutely hallucinatory sentence:

…the only part this that makes sense is that the argument is without merit. I’m not going to discuss the actual merits of the legal arguments in the opinion, because they are so bizarre and disjointed that even trying to describe them would require a Pepe Silvia-sized conspiracy board. Like the previous case, both the facts and the legal posture of the case change constantly, with seemingly no rhyme or reason.

The third one…oh boy. First, large portions of the “opinion” are individual paragraphs with quotations around the whole paragraph. What’s happening there? As far as the content of the opinion itself - I can’t. I mean that, I literally can’t. What is being discussed seems to change from paragraph to paragraph, much of it contradicting. It makes the first case seem linear and rational by comparison. The court finds it doesn’t have personal jurisdiction over the defendant so dismisses the case based on a lack of subject matter jurisdiction? But also the defendant hasn’t contested jurisdiction? And also the court does hold that it has both subject matter and personal jurisdiction over the defendant? And then it denies the motion to dismiss the case? Also, at one point it cites itself?

…also, even if this was a real case, it doesn’t stand for the propositions the plaintiff cited it for in their opposition? I’m not going to go into the weeds (honestly it’s so hallucinatory I’m not sure I could if I tried), but, for example, the plaintiff’s reply brief states that the court held “that the plaintiff was not required to bring their claim in federal court.” The U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia is a federal court, and there is no discussion of any filings in state courts. The closest the “opinion” comes is with the statement, “Therefore, Petersen’s argument that the state courts of Washington have concurrent jurisdiction is unavailing.” (This statement appears to be completely disconnected from anything before or after it, so I am unsure what it is supposed to mean.)

Moving on, case number four is allegedly a decision by the Court of Appeals of Texas. It includes the following line:

Honestly, the plaintiff’s attorney best defense at this point is that he wasn’t intentionally trying to mislead the court, because if he was doing this on purpose, he would have edited the cases to make them slightly more believable. (Context in case you’ve lost track: these documents are supposed to be copies of the opinions he is citing. The screenshoted line makes it clear that what he is actually citing is, at best, someone else’s summary of an "opinion". It would be like if a teacher asked a student to photocopy a chapter of a book and bring it into class, and instead the student brought in a copy of the cliffs notes summary of that chapter. Except that the book doesn’t even exist.)

The actual contents of the “opinion” are, as is now standard, absolutely bonkers. First, the court decides that it doesn’t have personal jurisdiction over Delta because “Delta did not purposefully avail itself of the benefits of conducting business in Texas.” This was despite the fact that the factual background already included that the appellant (sorry, the plaintiff, according to the “opinion”) flew on a Delta flight originating in Texas. Like, this is just wrong? It’s not even hallucinatory nonsense, it’s just facially incorrect legal analysis. Then the court starts discussing the treaty’s time bar, for some reason? Then it goes back to talking about personal jurisdiction, but now the trial court denied the defendant’s motion to dismiss for lack of personal jurisdiction, and the appellate court agrees with the trial court that it does have personal jurisdiction, even though this is the plaintiff’s appeal from the dismissal for lack of personal jurisdiction and the court already ruled it didn’t have personal jurisdiction? And even though on page 1, the plaintiff was injured during a flight from Texas to California, now on page 7 she was injured on a flight from Shanghai to Texas? Also the trial court has gone back in time (again) to grant the motion to dismiss that it previously denied?

Also, I’ve been trying to avoid pointing out the wonky text of these submissions, but:

Everything ok there?

Case number five is similar enough to number four that it’s not worth repeating myself.

Thank god, cases six and eight, as noted above, are real cases, so I’m going to skip them. The defendant alleges that the cases do not stand for the propositions the plaintiff cited them for, and I’m going to assume that is true, given the rest of this nonsense.

Case number seven looks legitimate on the surface. But neither the defendant nor I could find the case through any legitimate search mechanisms. The defendant looked up the purported docket numbers on PACER and found completely different cases; I was able to find a case with the name “Miller v. United Airlines, Inc.,” but it was for a different Ms. Miller, it was a California state case (not a Second Circuit federal case), it was decided on a different year, and the substance of the case was entirely different from the alleged opinion filed with the court.

On top of that, this might be the most morally reprehensible fake citation of them all? Because it is about the crash of United Airlines Flight 585, a real plane crash. Everyone on board - 25 people in total - was killed. 

The individual cited in this fake court case was not one of them.

I cannot imagine conducting myself in such a way where I would have to explain to a judge that I made up a fake case exploiting a real tragedy because I couldn’t be bothered to do actual legal research.

Now, I know you all have figured out what’s going on by now. And I want you to know that if your instincts are saying, “it seems like the lawyer should have just fallen on his sword and confessed that he relied on ChatGPT to write his original brief, rather than digging himself further into this hole”? Your instincts are absolutely correct.

Because obviously, the court was having none of this b.s. On May 4th, the court issued an order, beginning with the following sentence:

That is one of the worst possible opening sentences you can see in an order by the court in a situation like this. The only thing worse is when judges start quoting classic literature. If I was Mr. Peter LoDuca, counsel for the plaintiff, I would already be shitting my pants.

“I gave you an opportunity to either clear things up or come clean. Now I’m going to give you an opportunity to show why I should only come down on you like a pile of brinks, instead of a whole building.”

We are getting dangerously close to “quoting classic lit” territory here.

If I learned that the judge in my case called up the clerk of a circuit court just to confirm how full of shit I was, I would leave the legal profession forever. Also, the judge is now also putting quotes around “opinion.” When judges start getting openly sarcastic in their briefs, that means very very bad things are about to happen to someone.

So I’m guessing the delay between this filing and the court order was because the judge’s clerk was tasked with running down every single one of the additional fake citations included in the "opinions", just to make this sure this order (and the upcoming pile of bricks) are as thorough as possible.

If you are following along with Dracula Daily, the vibe here is roughly the same as the May 19th entry where Dracula demands Jonathan Harker write and pre-date letters stating he has left the castle and is on the way home.

Also, hey, what’s that footnote?

Wait, what?

Folks, it appears we may have notary fraud, on top of everything else! Anybody have bingo?

So on May 25, one day before the deadline, Mr. LoDuca filed his response. And oh boy, I hope ya’ll are ready for this.

Hey, what’s the name of that other attorney, “Steven Schwartz”? Where have I seen that name before…

...I ran out of room for images on this post. So I'm going to have to leave this as an accidental cliffhanger. Part 2 to follow once I refresh my tea.

[fefern]

✧˖° their ways of showing affection. | aalto, calcharo, lingyang headcanons.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: you're in love and happily with these wonderful men! but just how do they show their affection for you?

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved (separate): aalto, calcharo, lingyang and a gender neutral reader.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none!

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: another one! i love thinking about the little ways people show love , it makes me so happy ;v;! enjoy these little blurbs about how they'd love you! also, requests are currently open, so send them my way! also, i could not find a calcharo chibi drawing... ;;

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ aalto ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

knowledge is power! the more he knows about you, the more he utilizes it in showing his affection for you.

a big, BIG sweet talker. loves to flirt!

also big on compliments, find it cute when you don’t know what to say back.

a big spender in my opinion. oh, you liked that necklace but thought it was too expensive? surprise, it’s on the counter for you when you wake up the next day! you tried to win that plushie at the fair but it just didn’t work out? now you have 20 on the couch!

adores kisses, especially when you pepper them all over his face. (bonus points if you’re wearing lipstick, man is enamored to look at himself and see visually everywhere you smooched him.)

follows the sidewalk rule all the time. does not matter if it’s a safe area, he always is a bit protective in that way.

learns more about your hobbies and likes and begins to learn more about them in his free time. that way, when he sees you again, he’ll be able to engage in conversation with you about it. 

loves the way that your eyes light up when you talk about something you’re passionate about, and stares at you a lot as a result. 

likes to playfully scare you. he seems to have the ability to disappear and reappear as he pleases due to the mist, so he uses it sometimes to suddenly appear behind you and wrap his arms around your waist.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ calcharo ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

not much of a talker, and kind of new to showing affection entirely due to his past, so be patient. 

will wake up early and remind you to bring a jacket if it’s cold.

the type of person to also remind you that you forgot something, but by the time you turn around, he has the missing item in his hand.

will protect you if you’re scared of something. loud thunder? his hands are around your ears. scary part of a show? he’s using his arm to pull you closer to his chest to hide in. 

will quietly work in the same room as you, enjoying your presence entirely as you and him work. 

will sometimes ask those he knows around him for some advice about love, which is sort of strange considering who it’s coming from, but he wants to improve himself to be a better partner for you.

tries to apply the advice after, it’s a hit or miss sometimes, but always coming from a good place. 

iffy on physical touch, but he will slowly come to enjoy the feeling of holding your hand.

he also does the thumb thing where you rub the back of a person’s hand with your thumb while holding hands. his favorite.

will let you play with his hair sometimes in the morning if he’s in the mood for it. even if you do something goofy like braid his hair or put it into a random hairdo, he’ll enjoy the feeling of your hands in his hair as he slowly stirs awake. 

ruthless and cold in many other aspects of his life, he’s a gentle giant when it comes to you, and it’s endearing to see him try.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ lingyang ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

will always love to eat with you, whether it’s going out or cooking with you. 

^ always lets you have the last bite of the meal.

immediately looks for your reaction after he tells a joke with you, wanting to make sure that you enjoy his playfulness.

during the summer heatwaves, will use his glacio powers to help keep the both of you cool.

will sit in your lap and let you play with his ears as he rambles about his day.

loves yapping, and yapping in your presence as the two of you either bounce back and forth or you just listen, he likes both options. 

loves hugs, hugs tight and for a long time, will not let go of you until you let go of him first.

will compliment your scent and comment on it if you change something up like your shampoo or perfume, usually the first to notice those small changes.

shares a blanket with you on cold days and cuddles with you for warmth.

will sometimes, after waking up, just admire your features because wow he got lucky because you’re his.

even if you wake up and your eyes are looking back at him, he does it without shame.

whenever someone talks about you, if they say something wrong, he’ll immediately interject. (ex. “they like strawberries the most.” “no no, they like peaches more!”)

does practice runs of new tricks and dance moves he learns for his lion dances, asking you about your opinion on them because it means the world to him to know you like the dance he’s so passionate about. 

gets matching lucky charms with you and carries his around everywhere. “maybe we’ll win the lottery with this!” he tells you.

(he already did. after all, you’re his partner.)

[glamourscat]

MASSIVE SLAY for calling out the tim drake mischaracterization. If you ever write for him I'll be the first one to read istg

⋆˚౨ৎ Tim Drake HCS ౨ৎ ⋆.˚

<33, thank you :') Tim is not only my fav Robin, but perhaps my fav batfamily member. I can yap about him for hours lmao. and since i am a yapper at heart here some headcanons for Tim, along side A SMUTTY ONESHOT

habit of FaceTiming you after patrol and using it as a gossip (shit talking) session “And you won’t believe what that motherfuck—“

CEO of “this is us”. Spams you with TikTok’s and cringy memes that remind him of you two together or just you in general.

He is chronically online, but not in the cringy gen alpha way, but in the way that he somehow knows every obscure gossips / cancellations happening. Even in niche that he is not into (like chef tini's thanksgiving mac and cheese controversy)

He is so smart, with the highest IQ in the batfamily after Bruce and yet he somehow decides that it's a good idea to try and take the piece of stuck toast with a fork... in a plugged, working, toaster. He is the type of person who's smart academically, gifted even, but never tries-- in fact he finds school boring (and i think this is canon)

Has a private account on social media, the ones that look like fake/bots right? Private with like 10 followers, and he posts mainly his s/o, pictures with his friends and his photography pictures.

He knows how to skate in canon. Stay assured he will teach you how to skate too. Late night skate practices when he doesn't have patrol, or during the summer going to the arcades together -- or driving to the nearest 7/11 to buy a slurpee.

OVER HIS DEAD BODY will he admit this, but he is a cuddler enjoyer. He is pretty short, so if youre slightly taller than him or larger, he is heaven. He likes to bottle up his feelings until he explodes, but, in those quiet nights when he can rests his head on your chest and relax by the sound of your heartbeat... he knows it will all be alright.

Doesn't know how to enjoy things normally. It's even all in with him or none at all. (like i mentioned here) emotionally he is stunned. He either goes down the rabbit hole and become utterly unhinged or is nonchalant, and you know in that moment you have lost him. This can apply for both relationships, friendships and even things like watching a new show or read a new book.

Is so pretty. Long black eyelashes, soft blue eyes that are so bright, his hair are of a shade of black that reminds you of the midnight sky. His muscles are just right. He is pale and yet has a warmness to him you can't really explain.

When he is not patrolling he actually has a pretty stable routine. Tim can be a control freak, and surely he, as the work alcholic vigilante he is, won't make his immune system— which is already weak withouth a spleen— grow any weaker. He takes great care of himself. With going to sleep early, taking breaks, drinks tea, morning walks at 6am...

Has a loud mouth. Most will assume Jason would be the one to swear the most right? And I mean, he is, just not the number one. The number one is this meany right here. Who, in every three words, inserts a swearing word you didn’t even know existed.

Secretly a romantic but not in the "normal way." His love would show up in the little things -> like taking notice of what you like, your fav characters, songs, foods, colour, animal etc.. and keeping it mind when needed. He is there for you when you need him, and he might not be good with words, but for sure he is good at taking care of you with touch.

MIXED TAPES!! You lost the count of how many burned CDs he gifted you, with an accurate playlist of songs chosen mirroring what he wants to portray. Anniversary? Bday? Holidays? He will gift you one along side another present for sure.

“What is this?” Your voice holding a hint of curiosity, surprise even as you look at him with soft eyes

“Pre anniversary gift. I wanted to gift you something— meaningful I suppose” he says shrugging, trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably as his big blue eyes were waiting to hear your contentment.

“Aww, you’re so cute …” you tease, on purpose making your tone slightly higher pitch. It might seem sarcastic, but truly it's not. Because you’re extremely grateful, every mixed tape is a little treasure you cherish with all of your heart. You just enjoy messing with him, because his face goes always so red.

“Alright, shut up now” he says, while rolling his eyes. Trying to act annoyed, but you can see right through him. He is miserably failing with this little act, because his love sick smile is big enough to bright the whole room.

百個心都裝唔晒我對你嘅愛= A hundred hearts would be too few to carry all my love for you | in cantonese

Playlist: Slide away - oasis Useless ID - Kiss Me, Kill Me Kiss Me Deadly by Generation X When it’s time - green day somebody - depeche mode Just like heaven - the cure First date - blink-182 Lucky man - the verve Good good things - descendents Teenage Bottlerocket - Spend the Night Teenage Bottlerocket - Don't Go

The drawing is made by me btw!!

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[avocado-writing]

i neeeed smth silly with wade and his s/o having a stereotypical teenage girls' sleepover- painting their nails, gossiping about boys (logan) and trying to style wade's wack ass wig.

sigh unfortunately i am in love with The Idiot

Honestly? You’re pretty fucking happy.

Wade is incredibly attentive. A goofball, sure, and the kinda guy to take things a little too far sometimes - but he can always tell when there’s something wrong. You’ve been far too stressed. Work has been getting you down, too much pressure with not enough appreciation, and it just feels like you’re being ground into the dirt by someone’s heel. Your usual enthusiasm when you come home has been ablated and you’ve barely been able to give Wade a smile recently. 

So tonight, when you walk in with gloom heavy around you, you’re pleasantly surprised when the apartment is lit with candles and your favourite album is playing quietly on the stereo. Wade looks up from where he’s judging between two facemasks. 

“Okay, we can go with ‘jasmine tranquillity’ or ‘rose seduction’. I’m feeling ‘rose seduction’, but maybe that’s because sensuality is my middle name. Well, one of my middle names. Wade Winston Sensuality Wilson.”

You put your work bag down and fix him with the smile which can’t help rising over your face. 

“What’s all this?”

“I couldn’t have my pookie ending their week on a bum note. I co-opted the place for ourselves tonight.”

“And Logan doesn’t care? Al?”

“Out drinking and at bridge, respectively. I’ll let you guess which one’s where.”

The image of your gruffest housemate sitting across from three retirees while playing cards makes you snort, and Wade knows he’s got you. 

Now? Now the facemask is smelling the room with soft perfume and you’re swilling your Merlot around in its glass, watching as Wade holds one of your bare feet in his lap and carefully applies red to your nails. There are curlers in your hair but none in his wig, because god knows you refuse to touch that thing any more than you absolutely have to. 

“This wine is nice,” you hum, slightly buzzed from the two glasses you’ve already had.

“It’s not, it was ten dollars, but once you’ve had enough you stop noticing that it tastes like ass,” he replies. Yeah, okay, he’s right. You down the rest of it and lean back against the sofa, watching him work as your vision swims a little. 

“You’re really good at this,” you hum. Wade doesn’t tear his eyes away from where he’s applying varnish in neat, diligent strokes. 

“I can sever a guy’s spine through his first and second lumbar vertebrae from thirty feet away. I’ve got steady hands, babe.” As easily as if he was commenting on the weather he holds up a small tray of press-on decals. “Now, do you want the little apples or the little cherries?”

You snort, gleeful. “Oh my god Wade, did you get those from Claire’s?”

“Yes I did. I went into Claire’s today because I’m confident in my masculinity and it’s a wonderful, joyous place to be.”

“… did Laura go in with you so you wouldn’t feel weird?”

“Yukio. I’m picking the cherries,” he decides with an air of finality. You cradle your woozy head in your arms and sigh, happily. 

“I love you, Wade.”

Finally he looks up, his face melting into a smile. 

“Yeah, I love you too. Now do you wanna watch Definitely, Maybe or Bridget Jones tonight?”

“Bridget Jones. You get weird when we watch the other one.”

“Heh, yeah,” he agrees. 

Taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Finding Refuge.

Chapter Three

Surviving a Zombie Apocalypse with Terry Richmond

I feel the darkness inside me like a creature curled up in my chest, breathing smoke and fire. It is always there. It weighs on me. It's not contained by anything but my own skin. Sometimes it sleeps. Sometimes it doesn't…

“How much longer?”

Terry paused within the dark and narrow underground tunnel. The luminance levels inside the tunnel are much lower than outside, making it difficult for his eyes to adjust.

“Nearly there…” Rae’s voice echoed.

Terry released a frustrated sigh before continuing along behind her.

“So, you sure you haven’t seen Mike around here at all?” Terry pestered.

“I’m certain. You sure you don’t have a picture?” Rae asked.

“Nothing. He took all his things. Including his ID…”

After what felt like an eternity, they finally reached their destination.

Terry’s hazel eyes took in the area filled with helpless people. They’d created an environment beneath the streets of Woodsbury to remain safe. Tents were pitched, canned goods and other food items were pilled high within a corner. Mothers coddled their children. It was a refuge.

“This way…”

Rae startled Terry by grabbing his hand to lead him along. His breath hitched and he dropped his hard gaze to stare down at their connected hands. The difference in size he took notice of. They stopped in front of an area with supplies and Rae crouched down to search. Terry could feel eyes burning holes into the back of his head. He looked around, taking note of the few who were curious about him. None of which looked pleased.

“Let me see your arm…Terry?”

He focused his attention back onto Rae.

“Your arm. Can I see it?”

She was holding up some gauze and saline.

Terry curled his arm, exposing the bloody abrasion. Rae went to work cleaning him off with saline. Terry didn’t take his eyes off of her for one second. Rae peeked up at him through her lashes with a sheepish smile.

“You from ‘round here?” Terry asked with steadfast eyes.

“No…I’m from Atlanta. Spent most of my youth in Decatur…”

“Hm…”

Terry staked out the area again with cautious eyes. He took note of people whispering and eyeing him down with curiosity. He didn’t like it. Hated it, actually.

“You?”

Terry brought his eyes that appeared golden down at her face.

“North Carolina.”

“Far way from home.”

“No choice.”

Rae applied some antibiotic ointment to his wound and wrapped him nice and tight with tube gauze. Terry admired her work and how professional it was.

“‘Ppreciate you. Were you a nurse?”

“No. My mother was.”

Terry’s eyes fluttered with interest. He quickly tamed those thoughts and created space between them.

“Thanks for patching me up, I’ll be on my way.”

The footsteps of someone approaching from behind put Terry on guard and he turned quickly to face them.

“Rae, who is this?”

An older woman with coarse, salt and pepper hair pulled back from her face approached them cautiously with a whisper. She had a kind face, but the stress lines on her forehead and the corners of her mouth told him that she worried often. Her dark brown eyes fell towards Terry, eyeing him up and down.

“Mildred…this is Terry.”

Mildred glanced over her shoulder.

“Where did you come from?” Mildred questioned sternly.

Terry took his time responding. He stared into Mildred’s eyes with an unwavering determination. He could feel Rae’s eyes on him, silently telling him to say something.

“He’s an outsider,” Mildred spoke with a low tone through clenched teeth, “The others will return, Rae. They’ll get violent—”

“Who are the others?” Terry asked, more so towards Rae.

“We consider them to be our watchers and hunters. They scout the area for potential threats and they gather supplies and food…”

“Like the one that tried to kill me?”

Mildred cut her eyes to Terry’s wounded forearm wrapped in bandages. She slowly shook her head before her face morphed into anger.

“Rae…what have you done? He could have been infected by the walkers!”

Others began to notice them. They started hovering closer, accusatory eyes glued to Terry. Terry placed one hand on his hip, ready to discharge his gun immediately if anyone so much as tried him. He had a shotgun and a crossbow too.

“He wasn’t infected,” Rae stepped closer to Mildred, “He’s here to find his cousin. That’s all. He came all this way to find him. I’m just trying to help. Isn’t that what we do? Help those in need of shelter?”

Mildred shook her head and pursed her lips in disapproval, “Through inspection FIRST. You know this. Do you not remember what happened the last time? You can’t be so ignorant, Rae. This is dangerous.”

Rae was ready to protest, but Terry placed his imposing frame in front of Mildred, staring down at the woman with an intense expression on his face. He was tired, frustrated, angry. He didn’t have time for this. Mike was his priority.

“I’m not here to cause problems. Rae offered to help me, so I came along. If your so called protectors keep a close eye on what the fuck is going on around here, then they should know about my cousin. His walkie was found by Rae. Somebody knows something, and I’m gon’ get to the bottom of it. Even if that means violence.”

Mildred’s eyelids fluttered as she looked Terry in the eyes.

“You get me?” Terry looked back at Rae, “Thank you for helping me. But I think it’s best I do this on my own. Too many innocent people here…”

Terry’s hazel eyes scanned the underground refugees with remorse. Women, children, elderly. He could feel their pain. He could sense their sadness and worry. He wondered if Mike had found this place while passing through. Did the protectors feel threatened? Did they cast him out and left him unguarded? The more his mind whirled, the more rage consumed him.

They were living in a post–apocalyptic world filled with zombies. You’d think that would bring people together to fight back against evil. No. Silly of him to think so.

“I’ll be on my way,” Terry gave Rae one final look before bowing his head, “Be safe out here.”

“Terry, wait—”

“Let him go, Rae. He can’t stay,” Mildred gripped Rae’s wrist firm, “It’s for the best.”

Rae turned and scowled at Mildred, “Let go of me.”

“If you leave, you can’t come back.” Mildred spoke with malice laced in her voice.

“Good. I’d rather leave then stay here surrounded by a bunch of people that would rather hurt someone than help them—”

“ENOUGH!”

Mildred’s grip on Rae’s hand tightened. Panicked, Rae went into fight mode, prying Mildred’s fingers from her tiny wrist. Others rushed over, trying their best to get between them.

“She’s going to sabotage what we’ve done! Don’t let her leave!”

Mildred’s nails sank painfully into Rae’s wrist. Rae pulled and pulled, knocking Mildred over. Arms laced around Rae’s body to bind her, and she began kicking and screaming. Distant cries from children filled the air as they witnessed the brewing chaos.

“Get off of me! LET ME GO! Get your hands OFF OF ME!”

Pop! Pop!

Frightened screams filled the air. Everyone went still after ducking for safety. Rae followed the sound of a gun and her wide eyes fell on Terry. He had a pistol in his left hand, aimed towards the stone roof of the tunnel. Debris and tiny pebbles fell from its place around him, staining his shirt with dust. Mothers held their children in protective embraces while others coward away. Terry’s no nonsense approach with sharp eyes took in the faces of those around him before his gaze locked in on Rae.

“Get away from her.” Terry spoke with an even yet threatening voice.

Rae wiggled her way out of whoever was holding her back and stared down at the scratches on her wrist that Mildred was responsible for. She glared at the older woman that stared back at her with a guilty expression.

“Rae, you okay?”

Terry lowered his weapon.

“…yeah.”

She looks around her before brushing past them to grab as much as she could.

“You won’t make it out of here alive, Rae.”

Rae paused, turning her attention to Mildred and the others who stood behind her, silently defending the woman Rae once felt safe with.

“Watch me.”

Rae made a beeline for her things and as she packed what she could, Terry stood watch with his gun at the ready. He didn’t take his eyes off of anyone. Rae took long strides towards Terry with a backpack and a carryon. She paused, giving everyone in that tunnel one final look. Her eyes shined with tears as she locked eyes with the children she helped tend to.

“Rae. Are you coming or not?”

She looked Terry in the eyes. He stared back unblinking.

“I am.”

——

Leaves and branches crunched beneath their feet as they made their way through the woods of Sedonia. Terry Richmond silently watched beyond the overgrown trees, keeping an eye out for any threats. A gently breeze swept through Rae’s braids as the sun began to set. Darkness was fast approaching. Rustling in the distance stilled his footsteps. Rae collided with Terry’s broad frame. He put out a large hand, touching her arm to stop her from moving. Rae’s heart skipped a beat when she’d heard a noise.

She glanced up at the back of Terry’s head. Her eyes descended to his arm and she stopped at his hand that had a tight squeeze on his crossbow. He looked down on her and pressed a finger to his lips for her to remain calm and silent. He steadied himself so that his movements wouldn’t create noise and began fixing his crossbow to strike. Rae watched with keen interest, wondering to herself what exactly Terry had seen.

His bow rose, the stock of the crossbow pressed against his shoulder. He adjusted the spring with his thick, skillful fingers before bringing one hazel eye to the scope. Finger on the trigger, he pressed down, the arrow releasing and whizzing through the trees.

Arrkkkkkkkk!

Rae’s breath hitched.

Terry slowly lowered his crossbow, jaw clenching and chest rapidly moving.

Rae could hardly see what Terry was looking at, but from the sound of his target, it was definitely a zombie. He wordlessly grabbed her hand and they quickly weaved through the trees. Rae’s chest burned as she sucked in air, feet pushing against the earth to keep up with Terry’s long legs. She was afraid to fall. Afraid to trip and slow them down.

Terry Richmond reminded her of a soldier. Everything about him. Physically and mentally tough. Proficient. Her grip tightened on his hand, afraid that if his hold on her slipped, he’d disappear and she’d be left alone to die. Despite being apart of the refuge within the tunnels, she’d always known that the protectors of their group weren’t to be trusted. Her suspicions were correct when she’d witnessed what they’d done to a friend of hers.

They fed him to the zombies.

All because he didn’t agree with their policies.

Rae knew that if she stood up for herself, she’d end up like them. Food for the flesh eating monsters. Terry’s entrance into her world gave her a beacon of hope.

“MOVE!”

Terry’s booming voice alerted Rae to the severity of their situation. Gunshots sounded off in the distance, drawing in closer and closer. Rae tried her best to focus in front of her, but the fear of a bullet piercing her back weighed heavy on her conscious.

“I’m trying!”

Her bags were heavy, her thighs burned, and she was in need of her inhaler.

“I ca–can hardly breathe!”

They were fast approaching a warehouse surrounded by a tall chain link fence. Rae’s vision blurred and her throat constricted as she tried her best to breathe in and out. She was going to collapse at this rate.

Pop! Pop! BANG! BANG!

Wood splintered from a bullet that zipped past her head as they ran. Shaky breaths escaped her and just then her foot caught on a root. Rae toppled over, almost bringing Terry to the ground with her if it wasn’t for his controlled balance. Her eyes were spooked as she looked up at Terry. He remained calm, which shocked her despite the threats of the protesters looming closer and the zombies.

“C’mon, I got you. Push up! Quickly!”

Pop! POW!

Terry ducked down and he reached over Rae’s smaller frame to uproot the branch that had trapped her foot. Dirt sprinkled her face as she kicked herself free. With one strong arm, Terry lifted Rae to her feet and without another pause he dragged her along.

“We have to climb! Can you climb?!”

They halted their efforts before the chain link fence. Terry yanked Rae’s bags from her body and strong arm tossed them over the tall fence like he was a Shot Put Thrower. It landed in a heap on the other side. He quickly removed his crossbow and shot gun, leaving a handgun in the waistband of his jeans. They went over the fence, colliding loudly with the ground.

With little time left, Terry urged Rae to climb. She’d climbed the fence before, but the thought of being minutes away from death had her clumsy. Terry stood behind her and with force he placed his hands on her butt, hiking her up the fence as she climbed.

“GO! Don’t stop, Rae! UGH!”

Her fingers pricked the sharp edges of the fence, drawing blood. As the wind picked up, the knowledge of the zombies making their way towards them petrified her. She made it to the top of the fence, swinging one leg over, her jeans ripping from the fence. As she made her way down to safety, she stared ahead, eyes wide as she watched them sprint towards them. Terry climbed with precision and speed.

“Terry!”

He flung himself over and dropped down, falling to his side. Rae joined him, helping him up to his feet.

“They’re coming…they…”

Rae clutched her chest. Terry grabbed their things and threw Rae over his shoulder. He ran for his life, sprinting through the dry grass towards the abandoned warehouse. Gunfire erupted and right before the made it inside, Terry lost his footing as a bullet pierced his shoulder blade.

“AH!”

He dropped to one knee. Rae tugged on his shirt, bringing him further inside as Terry pushed with his feet. He stood and watched as the protectors crowded the fence with their guns pointed at them. Terry released a huff, peeking at them through a broken window. Rae rummaged through her bag and grabbed hold of her inhaler. She wrapped her lips around it and pushed, her lungs filling with the medicine. Instantly, she felt relief.

Exhaling, she rose to her feet. Her eyes fell to the blood stain on the back of his shirt and the hole where the bullet had entered. Thankfully, she’d brought some medical supplies with her. She also has experience in treating wounds. Something she had to teach herself. Just in case she ended up in a situation such as this.

“You’re bleeding out…”

Terry glanced down at her over his shoulder, sweat trickling down his face and neck.

“I’ll handle it. Right now…we need to find a way out of here. Fast.”

Rae studied the old, abandoned industrial building they were inside of. A factory that had been shut down for many years. Long shadows gave an eerie feeling. The building had been waiting for demolition. It gave her a grunge vibe. A floating crane was suspended high above them, creaking from the old chains and iron beams keeping it steady.

“I found Mike’s walkie in this area, along the outer perimeter…”

Terry flexed his back. Pain decorated his face but he remained stoic throughout. He turned his face away to spit before licking his lush lips that were covered with an overgrown mustache.

“So…he must have been hiding here…I bet your protectors knew about it…”

Terry crouched down to grab his shotgun, looping it over his head to rest across his back.

“I guess they don’t plan to climb. Figured since we’re inside, they can keep us trapped.”

Terry retrieved his crossbow. Rae grabbed her bags and silently followed Terry as he walked further into the warehouse. Their movements echoed, broken glass cracking beneath their feet. Darkness blanketed them, and Rae wondered if Terry planned to stay for the evening.

“There’s a back exit. Look.”

Terry pointed to an exposed backway where automatic doors used to be long ago. Pure black stared back at her. She opened her backpack to retrieve a flashlight. Tapping it against her hand, it ignited. Terry looked down at her as she handed it to him.

“You need to keep behind me at all times. We have to keep moving…”

“Okay. Just…don’t get us killed.”

Terry elevated a brow at her but didn’t respond.

As they walked, Rae grabbed Terry’s hand. He cut his eyes at her before tightening his hold. Their fingers interlocked, the roughness of his palm against hers warm and steady. They made it out, flashlight quickly scanning the clearing. The fence stopped at a certain point because of a hill. Any one of them could be waiting to jump out at them. Even a zombie could be there, reaching out their decaying arms.

“Let’s go!”

Terry dashed and Rae was behind him at the same speed

Pop! Pop!

Terry yelled for Rae to duck when a few men came out of hiding. Terry got down on one knee and with his handgun he aimed, firing rounds at them at a speed they weren’t prepared for. Rae watched as each of their bodies fell beneath the moonlight.

“Almost there,” Terry helped Rae up and they continued running. She stepped over a dead body, glancing down into the face of someone she’d recognized. He was just a kid. His dead eyes scared her, causing her to look away.

They made it to the hill, and when they got there, Terry raised his gun again, the bullet entering a zombies chest but it didn’t subdue it. More filtered from the trees, dragging their undead bodies towards the scent of the three lifeless men Terry had killed.

——

Rae had done the unexpected.

Terry could feel himself being tugged on. Rae had pulled the shotgun from him and aimed it at the zombies that were showing themselves. She cocked the gun and blasted off chunks of their withered, grotesque bodies. Terry finished off the ones that weren’t completely dead with precise headshots.

The odor of their flesh permeated the air around them along with the smell of gunpowder. Terry watched as Rae’s arms shook from the shock of it all. He approached her, hands on her arms, guiding the shotgun down. He wrenched it from her grasp and flung it over him again. Rae was trying to process things, body rigid.

“Rae…it’s okay.”

Terry rubbed her back to calm her down. She slowly turned to face him. Her doe eyes blinked up at him as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I–I thought I was going to die…”

“…I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

They stared at each other for a beat longer. Terry was the first to break eye contact. Those were eyes to get swept away in. Now was not the time to feel anything. He wasn’t there for Rae. Or so he thought. Mike was his main priority.

“It’s late. We need to find a place to lay low until the morning.”

Terry’s stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten in hours.

“Somewhere concealed.”

Terry looked at Rae. She pondered his words.

“…there’s a watchtower…not far from here…but there may be protectors there.”

“Good,” Terry squared his shoulders, “Then I can get some answers.”

Terry started walking, Rae on his heels.

“They usually have the place surrounded. It’s a death trap.”

Terry chuckled, “if you haven’t noticed by now, everywhere’s a death trap.” He laughed sarcastically.

“The one that watches from the tower has a rifle. They could shoot us down before we even get to them.”

Terry climbed the dirt hill with a sense of urgency.

“And I have the skills to evade them.”

Terry turned, reaching out his hands. Rae stepped closer and Terry lifted her up and over a stone that was too high up for her to climb over. He sat her down and Rae took that moment to stare up at the giant before her.

“You were a soldier?”

“A Marine veteran.”

“Oh…that explains things.”

Terry tilted his head at Rae.

“Lead the way to the tower. You know this area better than I do.”

Rae looked from left to right with uncertainty.

“Rae, you gotta have more faith in me. We didn’t make it all this way for you to act like I ain’t capable.”

“Fair,” she released a sigh, “It’s this way.”

“Go head,” Terry motioned for her to step in front of him.

Rae accepted the flashlight and began walking westward. Terry had his crossbow aimed at the trees surrounding them. He would stop Rae every few steps, aiming the light at the surrounding area to see if any zombies were nearby. They were probably flooding the warehouse by now with those three dead bodies scattered.

After thirty minutes, a watch tower standing tall on beams with a staircase was up ahead.

Rae and Terry hid behind a tree. From their view, they couldn’t make out anyone on the steps, but there was someone within the tower. The constant movement of a light similar to that of a lighthouse moved around and aimed low.

“This will make it easy for us. We have to stay away from the light.”

Rae turned off her flashlight and Terry took the lead again.

“Gimme your hand.”

Hand in hand, they crouched as they moved. When the light made its way toward them, Terry would pick up speed, sprinting in the opposite direction. The light circled back and Terry charged forward until they were safely out of sight.

“It’s a long way up,” Terry studies the distance, “I want you to stay behind me at all times. Here,” Terry removed his shot gun, handing it to Rae, “Use this if you have to. You know how to handle that thing better than me.”

The teasing look in his eyes and the glimmer of a smile beneath his mustache and scruffy facial hair gave him a youthful look. Rae gave him a small smile that disappeared just as fast when he’d turned his back on her and started making his way up.

They climbed and climbed, Rae periodically turning to make sure she wasn’t being followed. Nearly at the top, Terry slowed his ascent, pausing to look down at Rae.

“Stay here.” He mouthed.

Rae nodded her head and held her place, afraid to look out over the railing because of her fear of heights. The darkness didn’t help make things easier. One false move and she could fall to her death. Rae shut her eyes tight and took calming breaths with the shotgun pressed firm against her chest.

Terry Richmond took measured steps up the last flight of stairs. Finally, he tiptoed forward until he was staring at the back of a man about his height but with a slimmer build. He wore a gray beanie with a heavy–duty utility jacket and dark brown cargos. His feet were covered in dirty Timberland boots. He had a rifle perched next to him while his left hand aimed the flashlight around and his right hand held a pair of binoculars over his eyes.

Terry slowly raised his handgun, aiming it at the back of his head. Too bad he miscalculated things. Another man was hiding in the shadows. He pushed the door shut and pounced, putting Terry in a headlock. The Watcher turned on his heels, dropping the binoculars and aiming the flashlight at a struggling Terry’s face.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

The Watcher appeared to be a biracial male with a clean shaven face. His beady eyes stared daggers at Terry.

“Answer the question, asshole!” The man holding Terry hostage spoke.

Terry writhed before pushing backwards, the man colliding with the door. Terry’s elbow flew into his chest and he gripped the arm around his neck, using all his brunt strength to twist his arm in the opposite direction. The man shouted in pain so loud he could probably be heard from a distance. Free, Terry planted his fist against The Watchers nose, sending him flailing backwards against the railing.

“Come here!”

Terry put up his fist and started throwing blows, jabbing the burly man that grabbed him in the throat and then hooking him in the stomach. He bent over and Terry sent his knee into his face, cracking his front teeth.

The door flew open and Rae entered with the shotgun raised. She aimed it at the man against the railing, watching as he raised his hands.

“I thought I told you to wait for my signal?” Terry chastised Rae.

She ignored him, too focused on the man before her staring down the barrel of the shotgun.

“Don’t move!” She ordered.

“Rae?”

The Watcher squinted his eyes with a mixture of confusion and betrayal.

Terry was busy with his handgun pointed down at the man that tried to subdue him. He was rolling around on the floor of the tower, clutching onto his arm that was sure to be splintered. Terry glanced over and looked between Rae and The Watcher.

“What are you doing?” He questioned.

Rae hesitated to speak. She gave Terry a weary look.

“I’m leaving the refuge, Billy”

“Leaving? Where the fuck do you expect to go?”

Billy’s eyes landed on Terry with a glare.

“Him? He’s an outsider.”

Terry took slow steps toward Billy.

“Does the name Mike sound familiar to you?”

Billy sized Terry up with a curl of his lip.

“Answer the question.” Terry commanded with his hazel eyes threatening.

“How does he look?” Billy respond with frustration.

“About six feet, slim, black, hair similar to mine. He had on a grey shirt with long sleeves and black pants. Carried a camouflage backpack…”

Billy tried to picture Mike in his mind. His eyes scanned the floor. His eyes widened with recognition.

“…light voice? Goatee?”

Terry froze.

“…yeah. Where did you see him.”

Billy looked between Rae and Terry. Terry turned his attention to Rae. Her expression was hard to read. She could feel his eyes on her, and when she looked at him, he got a sense that she knew more than what she claimed. Terry’s stomach muscles tightened.

Agitated, Terry pointed his gun at Billy with a firm grip.

“Enough of this shit! Where the fuck is Mike?!!!”

“Why the fuck should I tell you anything!” Billy shouted.

Terry charged, hemming Billy up against a pole. Rae lowered the shotgun, watching Terry slam Billy repeatedly against the pole.

“TALK! I swear to god…”

Terry’s lips pulled back into a snarl as he dragged Billy over towards the railing. He tilted his upper body over the railing, one hand around his neck so tight Billy was turning purple in the face.

“IF I FINDO OUT YOU DID SOMETHING TO MY COUSIN! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

Rae jumped at the sound of Terry’s voice.

It scared her. Billy was choking on whatever breaths he had left.

“Terry! Let him up!” Rae pleaded.

Terry looked back at her.

“You know something. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know anything!” Rae shouted.

“BULLSHIT!”

Terry pressed the barrel of the gun against Billy’s temple. Billy shut his eyes, mouthing something that Terry couldn’t discern.

“I’m gon’ ask it one more time before I throw you off this bitch,” Terry clenched his jaw, “Where. Is. Mike.”

“Left for dead! Left for dead! Shit! That’s all I know! We caught him and left him for the walkers! That’s all I know!”

Terry flipped his gun around and placed it in his pants. He yoked Billy up and dragged him to the floor. He repeatedly punched him in the face, blood splattering his shirt and the sound of cartilage and bone crushing.

“Terry! Okay! Okay!”

Rae tried to pull him away but Terry was too strong. She fell back on her butt.

Billy was losing consciousness. Terry gave him one final blow, knocking Billy out cold. His fist dripped with blood and his knuckles were bruised and cut. Terry’s heavy breathing was the only sound. Rae turned her head to look at the other man on the floor.

Terry faced her, a distant look in his eyes as he approached the other man. Rae knew him as Duke. She didn’t interact with him much. Terry crouched down, staring Duke in the eye.

“Think you can tell me where you left my cousin to die, motherfucker?”

Duke’s sweaty face held no emotion as he parted his bloody lips to speak.

“We shot him in the leg and left him on the tracks. Don’t know nothing else. We just assumed he was dead.”

Terry held a slight frown, laugh lines in the corners of his mouth pronounced. He blinked slowly at Duke for a few more seconds before standing to his feet at a slow pace. Rae followed his movements, breath caught in her throat.

“So, you thought it was okay to drag an innocent man to his death and leave him instead of helping him?”

Terry stood over Duke, and Rae watched as his boot pressed against Duke’s throat. Duke began to squirm, veins protruding from his forehead as he fought against the pressure Terry applied. Rae covered her mouth with her hands, unable to look away as the life was sucked from Duke’s body. His eyes bulged and then suddenly he went limp. Terry’s boot remained for ten seconds longer, ensuring that he was dead.

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @blackerthings @deja-r @kanafunee @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @dremmmm @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @kokokonako @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @playgurlxoxo @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter

[steveseddie]

love is stored in a can of hairspray

rating: t | cw: none apply | word count: 3,189

tags: eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, eddie munson is a sweetheart, steve has a bad hair week and eddie comes to the rescue, fluff, soft boys, first kiss, getting together

for the @steddielovemonth prompt “love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy” by @forgottenkanji

a/n: i'm a day late for this one but in my defense i had a wedding yesterday and it was a crazy day! enjoy!

click here to read on ao3

***

There’s a reason why Steve Harrington was dubbed “The Hair” of Hawkins.

In all the years Eddie has known Steve or known of Steve, he’s never seen him have a bad hair day.

It doesn’t matter if it’s rainy or sunny, if he’s wearing a Scoops Ahoy sailor hat or if he’s walking down the halls of Hawkins High or if he’s fighting Demobats in the Upside Down after taking a dive in Lover’s Lake, Steve Harrington’s hair always looked great. Eddie doesn’t know how he does it. Well. He kinda does ‘cause Henderson is a blabbermouth who let Steve’s secret about the Farrah Fawcett hairspray slip one time, but Eddie still doesn’t understand how Steve always makes his hair look like that. He thinks there’s got to be magic involved, a deal with the devil so that Steve’s hair never looks bad.

That is until today.

Eddie arrives at the Wheeler residence and announces himself by ringing the bell three times just to be annoying. He waits for someone to come open the door for him, and in the meantime, crouches down to tie his Converse. The door opens while Eddie is still on the floor and the first thing he sees is a pristine pair of white Nikes that he could recognize anywhere.

“Well, well, well,” he says, tightening the laces and springing to his feet. “If it isn’t my favorite guy in all of Hawkins, I didn’t know you’d be- Jesus H. Christ, dude! What happened to your hair?” He blurts out the last part when his eyes land on Steve’s head. Or the thick untidy mass where his perfect hair should be, with strands matted on his forehead above his furrowed brow.

“Fuck you, man,” Steve grumbles and crosses his arms over his chest.

Eddie feels a little bad, but his mouth-to-brain already leaves so much to be desired around Steve on a good day-

Not that Steve looks bad. Eddie is convinced that he couldn’t look bad if he tried, but right now he certainly doesn’t look like The Hair of Hawkins.

“Sorry, it’s just-” He waves vaguely at Steve’s head. “What’s up with that?”

Steve groans loudly. “A bunch of my products are sold out at every fucking store in Hawkins,” he explains for what seems to be not for the first time today. “Been meaning to drive to the next town over to get them, but I’ve been picking up so many extra shifts at Family Video that I haven’t had the time.”

Eddie nods. Steve told him he was trying to save up money to move out of his parents’ house, but it was slow going, so he started working more shifts recently to speed up the process. He’s been seeing less of Steve because of that, which Eddie hates, but he understands the urge to get out of that house.

“That sucks, man.”

Steve pouts, pink bottom lip jutting out. “Tell me about it, I look-” he gestures at his head and trails off with a huff.

“It’s not that bad,” Eddie says, but Steve raises an eyebrow at him.

“Wheeler asked if a hamster died on my head,” he deadpans.

Fucking Wheeler. He’s gonna make him regret it during tonight’s campaign.

“Please, those kids wouldn’t know a good haircut if it bit them in the ass,” Eddie says, and Steve smiles a little. “Sure, it’s- different. Not what we’re all used to, but you still look-” Handsome, hot, beautiful. “You still look good, Harrington.”

Steve’s cheeks pink up slightly. “Thanks, Munson, but I don’t feel good, I don’t know. It’s just hair and it’s stupid, but I feel off.” He groans in frustration. “Whatever, I’ll just have to wait two weeks and then-”

“Two weeks?”

“That’s when I finally get a day off.”

Eddie blows out a puff of air. “Jesus, Steve.”

“Apartments aren’t cheap, man,” Steve says with a shrug. “But I think Keith might make me manager by the end of the month. That would bump up my pay a bit, I just have to, you know, show him I can do it.”

“You got this, Stevie,” Eddie says, patting Steve’s cheek. “No one rewinds and restocks like you do.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch up into a smile.

“If you two are done, we have a campaign to start!” Dustin says, appearing behind Steve and giving them both an exasperated look.

They exchange one themselves at Dustin’s tone, which they agree that he still needs to get in check.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming,” Steve says and Eddie tries not to jump in excitement when he realizes Steve is staying instead of just dropping off the kiddos. He’s been hanging around more and more during Hellfire meetings recently, even if he still doesn’t want to play. Eddie can’t complain about the last part, he likes just having him there.

He steps inside and Steve closes the door.

Dustin stares at Steve’s head.

“Quit staring, Henderson!” Steve protests and Dustin holds his hands up in defense.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just bad, dude.”

These fucking kids.

Eddie whacks Dustin upside the head. “Just for that, I’m making you roll with disadvantage for every attack you make tonight .”

Dustin’s eyes bulge out. “What! That’s not fair!” He protests loudly as they walk towards the basement.

Eddie suspects that Steve doesn’t know necessarily what that means, but he still gives him a grateful smile.

***

Eddie stares at the bag of hair products in his passenger seat.

He’s always been a whatever shampoo Wayne picks up from the store kind of guy, he’s never really spent money on hair products. Until now. And they’re not even for him.

He just spent a stupid amount of money on them, mostly because, even if he remembers how some of the bottles and hairspray cans Steve uses look like from using his bathroom when he stays over, he wasn’t sure which are the ones that Steve needs. So he bought a bunch of them.

In that moment, he wasn’t thinking about the money or how it might look to Steve that he knew what hair products he uses or that he drove to another town to get them. He was only thinking about Steve’s defeated look every time someone stared at his hair or commented on it, how he self-consciously tried to fix it at work every time a customer came in, how when they hung out at his house he would hide his hair under the hood of a sweater.

But now, parked in front of Steve’s house an hour before their movie night, Eddie does think about what he did- and he seriously considers leaving the bag on Steve’s doorstep and fleeing. It’s too much. It’s too ‘I have a big crush on you and I want you to be happy so bad that I drove to another town and raided the Hair and Beauty section at a store just so you can stop walking around looking like a kicked puppy’.

But at the same time, he did this so he could see Steve smile and it would be a shame to miss it. He just hopes that Steve is too distracted by having his beloved hair products that he won’t think too hard about what Eddie did, or what it might mean.

With a short prayer to whoever’s listening so that Steve doesn’t figure out his crush today and rejects him, Eddie grabs the bag and walks up the driveway.

He knocks on the door before he can talk himself out of it, and bounces from foot to foot while he waits, hiding the bag behind him.

Steve opens the door and when he sees Eddie his eyebrows shoot up in his face, disappearing behind the few hairs that hang over his forehead. Over the last week, Steve experimented with other products, and while he managed to make his hair look a little less like something died up there, it’s still not the same. “Eddie?”

“Hey, Stevie.”

He checks his watch. “You’re early. Actually no, you’re always late so being on time is early for you, you’re like, really fucking early.”

Eddie snorts. “First of all, I’m never late, I arrive precisely when I have to.” Steve rolls his eyes. “But today I’m really fucking early, as you so eloquently put it, because I had to do some shopping first and then I drove straight here. In fact, I come bearing gifts,” he says, hands shaking a little with anticipation.

Steve eyes him curiously. “For the kids?”

“For you, my King,” Eddie says, finally allowing Steve to see the bag and presenting it to him in the most dramatic way. Hinging at the waist, holding the bag over his head, the works.

“Eddie, what are you- wait, is that- oh.” Steve goes silent when realization hits and Eddie starts spiraling. He tries to make light of it. “I humbly present to you the magic potions for your characteristic luscious hair, your Majesty.”

But when he glances up at Steve through his lashes, he looks like he’s close to crying. For a moment, he worries that he fucked up- bought all the wrong hairsprays and shampoos and now Steve is mad at him-

But then Steve is grabbing Eddie’s shoulders and yanking him up for a hug where the bag ends up squished between them.

“Christ, Eddie, thank you,” he says against his shoulder, and Eddie feels a sense of accomplishment wash over him, as well as butterflies flying in his stomach from Steve holding him like this.

One of Eddie’s arms wraps around Steve’s waist. “I don’t know if I got all the right ones ‘cause I have shit memory, but I recognized some of the bottles from your bathroom and the lady at the store helped me find your famous Farrah Fawcett spray-”

He trails off when Steve squeezes him tighter. “I can’t believe you’d do this,” he murmurs, almost to himself, but Eddie hears it anyway.

“I had some shopping to do,” Eddie says casually, but it’s like Steve is squeezing the words out of him with his arms because he keeps talking. “And you’ve been walking around with your head low and those sad puppy eyes all week, and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Steve pulls back and Eddie braces himself for Steve calling him out for overstepping or something, but instead he looks shyly at Eddie.

“I know it’s stupid like, it’s just hair and it shouldn’t matter that much, but it’s just- it’s important to me. I might not like “the Hair” thing but I am like, proud of my hair and this week I just haven’t felt like myself and people keep making comments and-” He shakes his head, a few rebellious strands falling on his forehead. “Anyway just, this means a lot, Eds, thank you.”

“Of course, Steve,” Eddie says with a smile. They stare at each other for a little too long, and Eddie starts fidgeting. “Now aren’t you happy that I got here so early? Gives you just enough time to get through your hair routine before everyone else gets here.”

Steve chuckles. “You don’t mind waiting while I fix this?” He gestures at his head, and Eddie shakes his.

“I can entertain myself just fine,” Eddie says, stepping inside when Steve sweeps his arm over the entrance.

“Okay, I’ll be back soon.”

Eddie grins. “Yeah, go doll up for me, sweetheart,” he teases and hears the way Steve’s breath catches, his eyes widening slightly and his cheeks tinting pink.

Then Steve moves in and places a quick kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “Thanks again, Eds,” he says and then he’s running upstairs.

Eddie stands there for at least ten minutes, red in the face, before he can make himself move.

***

Steve still hasn’t come downstairs by the time the doorbell rings so Eddie answers it.

Dustin is at the head of the arriving party and he raises an eyebrow at him when he sees him. “You’re on time,” he says, perplexed.

“And you’re a butthead,” Eddie replies and the other kids snigger behind Dustin. “Are you gonna come in or what?”

With an eye roll that is pure Steve, Dustin walks in followed by Wheeler, Sinclair and Max, and finally Robin and Nancy, who drove them all there.

Buckley narrows his eyes at him as she walks in. “Why are you on time?” She asks. “Unless you got here early so you and Steve could hang out alooone?” The way she says “alone” makes Eddie flush, which doesn’t help deny what she’s implying, even if it isn’t true.

Luckily, at that moment, Steve comes down the stairs and everyone’s attention turns to him.

“Dude, you got rid of the dead hamster finally!” Mike says and Max flicks him in the ear. Eddie smirks, that’s why she’s his favorite.

“He’s back!” Dustin cheers as soon as Steve’s hair is visible. Eddie smiles at the familiar look, but mostly at the way Steve smiles and holds himself, the slouch and the sad puppy eyes gone.

“There’s my handsome best friend,” Robin hoots and Nancy puts her thumb and index finger in her mouth and lets out an impressive whistle.

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, waving off their compliments and reactions as he reaches the ground floor. “Yes, the hair is back, we can move on now. There are movies to watch.”

He starts to usher them in the direction of the living room to get their movie night started now that they’re all here.

“Dude, I thought it would be two weeks before you could buy your hair things,” Lucas says, looking at Steve over his shoulder.

Steve freezes, his eyes darting to Eddie before he just shrugs at Sinclair, who probably doesn’t care that much about it because he just accepts that as a reasonable answer and follows the others to the couch.

The same can’t be said about Buckley.

“How did you get your hair products, Steve? ‘Cause I know you didn’t have them yesterday and you were working all day today.”

Their eyes meet again and Eddie gives a small shrug. They both know Buckley won’t drop it until she knows the truth.

“Eddie got them for me,” Steve says, mouth curling up in a smile that he directs at Eddie.

Buckley’s head snaps in his direction too, but she’s smirking, her eyes sparkling. “Oh did he?”

“Uh, yeah, I did.”

“You drove to another town, spent time and money on gas, and then spent more money just to get Steve his hair products?”

“Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p’, trying to be casual, but he can feel the heat on his cheeks.

“How generous of you,” she says but it sounds a lot like, ‘I see you and your big gay crush on my best friend’.

Eddie’s eyes dart to Steve. With their platonic bond it sometimes feels like they can read each other’s minds and Eddie wonders if Steve can see what she sees. He flushes brighter at the thought.

“Come on, Nance, let’s get started with the popcorn,” she says, hooking her arm with Nancy’s and dragging her away, leaving Steve and Eddie alone in the hallway.

“I’m sorry about her,” Steve says with a light chuckle. “And listen I can pay you- for the gas and for the products.”

Eddie shakes his head. “You don’t have to, I told you, they’re gifts.”

Steve ducks his head shyly and a strand of hair falls on his forehead with the movement. On impulse, Eddie reaches out to tuck it back into place. There, now Steve’s hair is perfectly styled again. He smiles. “Besides, it was worth it.”

“Oh.” Steve licks his lips a little nervously and Eddie can’t help but track the movement with his eyes. “You- you must really like my hair,” he whispers, eyes wide and expectant.

Eddie considers taking the out, making some joke about having always admired “the Hair” or something like that, but he finds that he doesn’t want to. Not with Steve looking at him like he would like hearing the truth.

So, Eddie takes a deep breath and hopes that he’s reading this right.

“I do, I really like it, but it’s not just that. You could walk around with a hamster on your head or get a buzz cut like El, and I’d still like it. I just. I like you.”

A slow grin appears on Steve’s face. “You really think I would look good with a buzz cut?”

A nervous laugh tumbles over Eddie’s lips. “Out of everything I said that’s what you-”

Steve shakes his head, cupping Eddie’s jaw with one hand and effectively shutting him up. “No, I- I like you too, Eddie.”

He sighs in relief. “Oh, thank God.”

And then, he grabs a handful of Steve’s shirt and pulls him towards him, crashing their lips together.

The moment they touch, Eddie lets out a low whine before he remembers that the kiddos are in the next room and Buckley and Wheeler could walk out of the kitchen any minute. So he tries to keep it down as he licks into Steve’s mouth, even if Steve kissing back just as passionately should be enough to drag more noises out of him.

It’s not until Eddie’s hands start moving from his shoulder to his neck on the way to his hair that Steve stops him, his fingers grabbing a hold of Eddie’s wrist and pulling away just enough to speak against Eddie’s lips.

Eddie chases after Steve’s mouth with another whine.

“Jesus,” Steve gasps. “We probably should- If this week proved anything is that out friends are overly invested in my hair so they’ll notice if you mess it up with your hands.” Eddie makes a disgruntled sound. Steve’s fingers catch one of Eddie’s curls, twirling it around it. “But if you want, after everyone leaves you can stay and I can, you know, pay you back for this.” He gestures at his hair.

Eddie’s brain must be melting out of his ears from kissing Steve because he dumbly says, “I told you that you don’t have to-” before he understands the meaning behind the words when he sees Steve’s smirk. “Oh. Yeah. I can think of a few ways you can do that.”

The way he waggles his eyebrows makes Steve giggle adorably, but before Eddie can kiss him about it, Robin pops her head out of the kitchen, making them jump.

“If you two are done giggling like teenagers, come help with the popcorn before the actual teenagers start a riot.”

“Aye, Captain Buckley,” Eddie says with a two-fingered salute. This time Steve muffles his giggle behind his hand.

With the other, he grabs hold of Eddie’s and starts dragging him to the kitchen. The whole time, Eddie feels like he’s floating.

He’s happy he made the trip, he’s happy he got Steve his hair products, he’s happy his hair are back to normal.

And he’s even more happy that he gets to mess it up later when he kisses Steve again after everyone leaves.

[minus-plus-zer0]

Working at Bakugou's Agency Headcanons - Part 1

| Part 2 | ♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Tags: None (Originally this was a one-off, but I found a good stopping point part-way through so I'm ending it here and posting the rest later)

You're his secretary. He's your boss at his self-established Pro Hero Agency. But you're right around the same age.

It's a little strange, really. You knew what you were getting into when you applied during the hiring process but it's still shocking to see someone your own age so much more accomplished in you. Makes you wonder what you're doing with your life when someone else is already so far ahead.

However, Bakugou (or Dynamight) sees potential in you and takes you as his personal secretary. Everyone else was fired because he wasn't too fond of any of them, so there was an opening. Despite him taking you on, you're really nervous about your job prospects given the graveyard of secretaries he's built up. But the pay is too good and you need the money.

Everyday at work, he's expecting your best. He's constantly barking out orders to any and all of his workers, and you wonder if this violates some "harassment of employees" policy that you're sure nobody really cares about at this point. At least he's not barking at you in particular. He's even slowed down to explain some things to you, which you really appreciated.

But your co-workers often talk about him when he's not around. They grumble about his aggressive attitude and protest against his constant criticisms. But they're here for the same reason as you (the pay rate), and on the bright side at least they know that Dynamight isn't corrupt or evil boss. Just a handful.

Your best efforts eventually become known at your organization and Bakugou gives you some rare praise. No gruffness, no insults, just genuinely saying "This is really well-done."

You almost couldn't believe it when you heard it. You laughed when he said it and then immediately regretted laughing when his eyes shot to yours.

"Sorry, I've just never heard you compliment an employee's work!"

He looked offended and he was about to say something but then he held back.

"Guess I shouldn't forget to do that."

Was he actually taking your criticism to heart? Who knows.

But Dynamight truly is one of the more perplexing bosses you've likely had to work for. You don't really have drinking parties outside of work with your boss or your colleagues, unlike other Japanese companies and organizations. Some other typical company traditions are eschewed, which you may or may not appreciate. Dynamight isn't really the type of person who would like any of those things. He's too straight-edge, too much of a workaholic. He doesn't see the point. But this makes it hard for anyone to get close to him.

Still, there is one day where you invite him out after work for coffee or tea, whichever you prefer. There's no ulterior motives, no wish for a pay raise, you're just honestly interested in his life.

The worse he can do is say no. Actually, he can do much worse than that, but you try it out anyways. To your surprise, he agrees immediately! It's a little funny how quick he was.

He's got the best taste in dineries, since he has high standards and all. He takes you to a really fancy restaurant and you're gobsmacked at the prices. You don't have that kind of money, but he brushes off your concerns. He's got money to burn.

You learn more about him. He's still pretty informal as ever, despite the suit and tie he's wearing per the restaurant's formal dress expectations. He doesn't really mince words with you or talk politely, inside or outside of work. But he's quite expressive and more willing to share about himself than you would've ever believed.

He's telling you about his high school years and how it led up to this point. You're familiar with the story since you've seen him at the Sports Festival and you just kept hearing about him and the other U.A. students from there. He states your Quirk is good enough to be a Pro and outright tells you he'd personally train you if you wanted.

You've got your hands full with your current life as is so you can't take the offer, but you're pleased he even suggested it!

"Maybe if I train, I'll even surpass you someday!"

"Don't get cocky!"

It's really easy to joke around with him and get into a nice flowing casual conversation. You've never seen him act like this. Even with other Pro Heroes it usually took a lot of time for their friendship to remotely get to that point.

In fact, you point that out to him, as well as his aloof reputation with the public. Normally you shouldn't tell your boss those kinds of things, but Bakugou isn't your normal boss.

Bakugou sneers at your playful observation and says if he doesn't need to open up then he doesn't do it at all. He says you're looking too much into things.

But he's smiling at the end, and he bites back at you with his own observation, saying that you've got a lot of time on your hands if you're keeping a close eye on him.

You say he's got some food stuck in his teeth and successfully distract him from the subject.

Okay, maybe you DO like him. Maybe you do fancy one of the highest ranking Pro Heroes in the country who acts just like a good friend with you when he's not in the office. It's not your fault. He's just so kind to you.

But he's your boss, and you know he's dedicated to his work above all else...

Still, you find him the next day at work greeting you first thing in the morning, remarking about your evening together. He's recalling it with a rare soft smile on his face.

You're glad it's a happy memory for him.

[suplicyy]

Hi, I saw that your reqs are open and that also do multiple character headcanons so I was wondering if you do one on how they (Daichi, Tsukishima, Kageyama and Kuroo) would be like with an s/o who's never been in a relationship before, pls and thank you have a great day!! :) (sorry if in any way this was rude or if you're not feeling motivated to do this, that's ok, this is my first time requesting)

— Summary: Him with a partner who has never been in a relationship.

— Characters: Kageyama, Tsukishima, Daichi, Kuroo.

— Tags/Genre: Fluff | Gn!Reader

— Warnings: None!

Kageyama Tobio

If you're insecure because this is your first relationship, don't worry, because it's probably Kageyama's first too.

He's so focused on volleyball that he doesn't stop to think about that kind of thing, but that all changes when he meets you.

There were times when he had just made a small interaction with you, such as a question about a school project, or even a simple good morning, and that alone was enough to make you stay in his mind for the rest of the day.

So it's obvious that when you started dating, you were the one who prevailed in his head that only had room for volleyball.

In addition to the thousand concerns about how he should act in a relationship, since he has absolutely no experience on the subject.

He's probably the type of person who Googles "how to act in a relationship" or "top 10 best dates to have with your partner".

Hinata once caught him watching a video about how to kiss someone, and it's no exaggeration to say that it became a joke among his circle of friends...💀

Tobio would definitely be very shy with any kind of physical affection, and even with words depending on which one you say.

He would be as red as a tomato when you planted a kiss on his cheek before an important match, or when you complimented his appearance or skills.

You both would probably panic as you both don't know how to act in a relationship.😭

Tsukishima Kei

Just like Kageyama, he's also probably never been in a relationship before, although he is much less nervous and can be very clever at dealing with things he are not exactly familiar with.

As much as he (probably) have many admirers, he was never interested in that kind of thing, thinking that there are many other things to worry about.

So he really doesn't know how you captivated him so much, and no matter how much he doesn't show it, you really had a huge effect on him.

Which left the boy frustrated for a few days, but then accepted it thinking that the feelings would pass with time.

But now that you're dating, he's sure he won't be able to put those feelings aside, not when his heart skips a beat every time he sees you smile.

Upon hearing that this would be your first time dating someone, he would definitely tease you a little with his sarcastic words, so be prepared.😭

But then he wouldn't care about that detail and would say that "you don't need to worry about those things", trying to reassure you in his own way.

He's the type who wants to take things in his own time, so he's not worried if you're not ready for your first kiss yet, or if you're still too nervous about physical touches, he will always be waiting for you.

And this also applies to him, after all, he is someone who doesn't open up to others easily, so it may take a while for him to show all the love he feels for you.

Daichi Sawamura

Unlike his first-year teammates, Daichi has probably been in a relationship before, he is the type that had few people, but lasted a long time.

So it can be said that he has a certain experience.

He wouldn't be worried about this being your first relationship, quite the opposite, he would love to do his best to make you comfortable, he would certainly be someone very kind to you.

Daichi would be SO affectionate with you, like, shyly intertwine his hand with yours, give you the most cozy hugs you've ever felt.

When he is with you, he feels like it is his first time in a relationship too. You have an inexplicable effect on him, he blushes like a fool every time you manage to show him your love.

He would worry a lot if you were insecure because you didn't have experience in this matter, so he would always make sure you knew how much he likes you.

The greatest gentleman you will ever meet!!

He will never pressure you to do something you don't want to do, and he will always be patient with you if you are the type who doesn't open up easily to others.

And he will always love giving you gifts and saying with words how special you are to him.

Kuroo Tetsurou

He certainly has the most experience on this subject. And this is certainly NOT trying to bring out his fanon personality!!!

His appearance is undoubtedly breathtaking, which has already made him attract several people and enter into a relationship. In addition to making many people think he is the womanizing type.

However, they last very little, as their partners don't take long to realize that his appearance doesn't match his personality at all.

The truth is that he is anything but that. His flirtations/jokes are something that no one (mostly) can understand, he's a great gentleman and wouldn't do anything until the time was right, in addition to that he provokes others with the intention of irritating them, and not to try to seduce🧍‍♀️

He fits the definition of "don't judge a book by its cover" very well.

Kuroo would NEVER do anything that made you uncomfortable in any way!! He wouldn't be upset if it took longer for you to show him affection, as long as you were okay, he wouldn't worry about anything else.

His heart races every time you take the initiative to show physical affection, be it a hug, a clasp of hands, even a kiss if you feel more confident. He thinks you're the cutest thing when you ask if you can kiss him, with a super apparent blush on your cheeks.

You can be sure that he would introduce you to everyone on the volleyball team!! He really wants you to get along with everyone and vice versa.

— A/N: I'M SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY!!! This week I was very busy, lots of teachers giving new subjects and assignments, and on top of that my mother recently had surgery, so I was the one who had to take care of her in the meantime😓

[yandere-romanticaa]

The very concept of fear, while not liked amongst living creatures, is still very much necessary. After all, if you see a predator coming straight towards you, the correct thing to do is either run or hide. If you try to fight it the chances of actually living to tell the tale are slim to none.

That same concept does not apply to Kafka.

Frankly, she does not understand that dreadful feeling. She has heard people describing it as ice creeping up your spine and taking over your body while increasing your pulse, forcing you to move but your body never seems to cooperate.

In turn, that is one of the reasons why she joined the Stellaron Hunters.

Elio had plans, great plans. And Kafka was following them to a T.

But the universe likes to play games. And her new favorite thing to play with became you.

The woman took a morbid interest in you, just something silly to toy with to pass the time. She adored dressing you up and even going as far to do your makeup, her own personal little doll. She would have you cling onto her arm as her jacket was sprawled across your shoulders, marking you successfully as her own. She liked that, Kafka realized. Her smell clinging to your own, marring it with her endless desire. The way in which she would touch you sent shivers down your spine - gentle but cruel, the woman was a walking contradiction.

That was how she spent most of her free time, with you by her side. Those times were blissful and sweet, like a delicate candy just waiting to be unwrapped and made to be enjoyed.

Nothing stays the same though. Be it good or bad.

And Kafka needed to be reminded of that fact.

There she stood, for the first time ever frozen in her spot. Monsters were crawling everywhere, their sharp teeth and loud howls forcing ripples through the air as they sensed fresh blood, your blood. And there you were, on the ground, wounded, alone.

Scared.

Was this fear? Was this the feeling Kafka was aspiring to have?

She was not sure whether or not she wanted to congratulate herself on a job well done or to sink deep into the ground.

People described fear in many different ways and she realized that in that moment, everyone was correct in their own way. It was both ice and frost, darkness and confusion.

A brutal realization that no matter how powerful, you were human. She was human.

Kafka felt her heart swell a little at that thought. Perhaps you were more than just a toy. Why else was she pulling her weapons and slaughtering the hungry beasts which stood in her way?

All she could focus on was you. The way in which you shook like a small leaf - small, defenceless. Weak. You needed Kafka by your side.

The Stellaron Hunter approached you carefully, specks of blood staining her crisp white shirt as she outstretched her hand towards you in a gentleman like fashion. You took it and without warning, she pressed you close to her body. Kafka held you tightly as her purple eyes glimmered with madness and wonder.

You needed her, that much was true.

But, perhaps, she needed you just as much.

[messiahzzz]

You’re one of the most annoying people on this site. And that really says A LOT because WOW! Shut the Fuck up about Gale wanting to be a father or not. He never says that he doesn’t want to be one. You projecting things onto him doesn’t make it Canon.

on a serious note: i’m certainly not the one that continuously brings up this topic unprompted. i personally really don’t understand the entire controversy around the topic or why fandom feels the need to rehash this conversation almost weekly. i truly believe that there’s nothing more of value to learn from it, to address, or add to it… yet fandom won’t let it rest.

to once again clarify: what i mean by “gale wanting to be a father isn’t canon” is that there is no evidence/neither hints anywhere in any of the dialogue that support the contrary. characters like h*lsin, w*ll and la*’zel have entire adoption subplots. all of them mention their children explicitly during the epilogue:

narrator: *your soul warms thinking of lily aurora ravengard, your adopted daughter. a treasure of a girl, found at the entrance of the open hand temple - one grey eye, one brown.* w*ll: ah, the girl could melt the staunchest heart. she might even have brought a smile to old withers' face! w*ll: but tonight is for us - and lily's only four months of age, besides. i promise, the temple will keep her in good care.

player: and our little hatchling? is he safe? la*'zel: of course. i have complete trust in our newest allies. xan is in fine hands tonight. la*'zel: what a wonder he is. he will be a fine warrior, if he chooses. or a poet, or an explorer, or a scholar.

h*lsin: being away from it... i cannot help but worry how they will fare in our absence. player: we'll be back before they know it. h*lsin: i hope so. the children shall miss their bedtime tale tonight - though perhaps i can glean a few new stories from our friends here, to make up for it.

even shad*wh*art has a line where she briefly mentions that children might be a possibility for her in the future.

shad*wh*art: and i get to see my parents almost every day - i need to make every moment with them count, after so much was stolen from us. but they're doing well, [...] shad*wh*art: who knows? perhaps they'll have grandchildren before long.

gale in comparison? he has none of that. he remains childfree during the entirety of the game + epilogue. in fact, his line in the epilogue that addresses the topic of grandkids is this one:

tara: this is why mrs. dekarios and i will be waiting an eternity more for grandchildren. nodecontext: self-pitying gale: psst! shoo, tara. nodecontext: shooing away tara like one would a naughty cat.

i already wrote a post about this entire discourse here [x] but to repeat myself once more: all of the dialogue that vaguely addresses the topic of children in any way in regards to gale are these snippets

player: gale… how would you feel about having another person in our relationship? gale: what, like a child? i’m not quite sure i’d consider myself father material, plus our current lifestyle isn’t exactly what i’d call settled…

gale, upon spotting oliver during their game of hide and seek: ah, i have you! just a shame i don’t want you.

gale treating the children the group comes across with respect isn’t an indicator either. this is a courtesy gale extends to everyone he meets. he’s a character that approves of a protagonist who systematically commits good deeds. whether it’s sparing animals, helping without compensation in mind, or aiding children. wanting children to be cared for… and you know… for them not to die is common etiquette that every adult should extend to a child in need. those are not “dad goals!!!” it’s quite literally just basic human decency. gale is genuinely kind and caring to everyone he meets, there is no reason why this also wouldn’t apply to children.

i often see fandom mention his encounter with mol at last light and how excited he is to talk to her. which i think greatly misinterprets the context of the scenario since he didn’t have much of a reaction to mol before either — gale is ecstatic about lanceboard. again evident by his reaction to the party finding the life-sized board during the wyrmway trials, and how he immediately offers to give tav pointers. explaining different approaches to them in enthusiastic detail if they allow him to. the man just really likes lanceboard… as well as being the smartest person in the room.

gale: ah, lanceboard! why, this might just be the highlight of our misadventures to date.

gale: lanceboard happens to be a game with which i have more than a passing familiarity. might i offer a suggestion? nodecontext: gale's a badass lanceboard player, anticipating showing off

if you want to headcanon your tav and gale raising a big family together that is more than fine and no one is stopping you. whatever you want to happen to these two after the storyline of the game is up to your respective fantasies. no one is policing you on what you should do with your own character. go wild and create whatever fan content you wish, no justification required.

yet once again, as there is no mention in canon anywhere — neither in the main game nor the epilogue — that this is something gale would ever want (whether that may mean immediately or somewhere down the line) gale wanting to be a father remains a headcanon. while gale being childfree is explicitly shown in the game, in strict comparison to other companions that either have children by the end of the game or voice the desire to (eventually) have them.

my personal preferences are of no relevance here whatsoever. i care about accurate and correct characterization and will point out inconsistencies/false information no matter the topic. i, for one, want to appreciate these characters in the way they're written, not how i ideally want them to be.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Do you know much about historical cuisine? Saw yet another anime with friends and they went the whole 'modern food always tastes better' bit. I feel tired of the trope and am wondering how different historical cuisine would taste compared to modern times. So anything you happen to know as a historian would be cool to know!

That varies MASSIVELY based on time and location. Like. Much more than fashion does, even, I'd imagine (in a given sub-region- I can talk about Mainstream European and Euro-American Fashion of the 19th CenturyTM but the food was so different in different countries that were dressing the same, if that makes sense? just as an example).

Food is often more globalized in a lot of places nowadays, so the characters might have more diversity of flavors from the regional norm than they're used to. But this could be a good or a bad thing- a woman from 17th-century Japan might love pizza and much sweeter Western pastries, or she might absolutely hate them. Which is not to say regional cuisines haven't evolved, too- a museum here in Boston used to have tastings of 18th-century-style hot chocolate, and it was very different from the modern sort. But that's the largest blanket difference across the globe that I can think of, food-wise.

Not sure what anime this was, so it could have been Japan-specific, but I feel like this gets applied the most to the 19th-mid 20th century UK and United States. The whole Captain America line about "food's better; we used to boil everything," for example, and the general belief that everything was bland mush in those areas until the 1950s and then it was incomprehensible Jell-O mold horrors until approximately the 1980s. And of course, none of that's true- there were plenty of dishes that used spices and different cooking methods, many of which are still popular today. See also: Jonathan Harker, a Normal 1890s Englishman, getting so rhapsodical about paprikahendl that he simply must have the recipe for his fiancee to make. There also WERE bland mushes and fluorescent nightmares, but there's less than ideal food today, as well.

(Note that I'm much less confident talking about the whole English StodgeTM thing as we get into the 20th century. That is outside my history wheelhouse and there's a lot of different stuff embroiled in it relating to class and such that I don't want to talk out my ass about. All I know is that I've seen plenty of recipes from as late as the end of the 19th century, from England and some from urban Scotland if I recall correctly, that made ample use of spices. Nutmeg, mustard, black pepper, rosemary, caraway, and cayenne pepper were especially popular (not all together obviously). There was a belief among the middle and upper classes that strong flavors of garlic and onion were distasteful to ladies, but the fact that cookbooks and such feel the need to mention it implies that those elements WERE being used in cooking generally, in the UK, at that time. So wherever the idea that All British Food Is Beige And Tasteless came from, it wasn't mainstream late Victorian cooking for adults as far as I can tell)

(They gave kids a fair amount of the beige and tasteless because they believed their digestive systems couldn't handle strongly-flavored- okay now I'm getting off topic. Read Ruth Goodman's "How To Be A Victorian." Anyway!)

tl;dr- The answer to "is modern food better?" is "that's literally impossible to answer as a blanket statement, since it's massively dependent on the character's original time, place, social status, and personal taste- and where they end up in the present, of course."

Now, I do agree that the trope is annoying the same way every single princess being totally shocked and appalled when her marriage is arranged gets annoying- not because it can't be true based on history and human behavior, but because fiction treats it as some kind of universal precept. Mix it up a little sometimes! Have a Regency character who comes to the present, finds out that her favorite local cheese isn't being made anymore, and loses her entire mind!

[little-annie]

Thanks to the @strangerthingswritersguild and @penny00dreadful for the prompt!

Wax | T | 1,018 WC | Steddie

They're set up in the kitchen of their tiny apartment. Wax pot hot and ready sitting on the countertop, popsicle sticks, muslin cloth and rubber gloves next to it neatly laid out. It's the best set up Steve could manage in their small home. Sure the lighting in the living room is immensely better, but he's not about to spend an hour or more trying to get wax out of shag carpet when he unavoidably gets some on the floor.

In nothing but his underwear, Eddie's laid out on one of the hot pink massage tables the school lends their students, shuffling uncomfortably atop the paper cover, wrinkling and ripping it before they can even begin. “You're sure about this?”  

Well, not entirely. But Steve's not about to tell Eddie that. He needs the practice for school.

“Yeah, Babe. You'll be fine.”

“Like it's not going to burn me or rip my fucking skin off?”

Okay. Well. It's not like Steve's about to tell Eddie that both of those are actual possibilities. 

He gives his boyfriend a placating pat to the top of his head instead.

“Steve! It's not actually going to burn me is it?”

Again, it is 100% a possibility.

“You'll be fine.”

"Fucking ow!”

They've been at it for a little over an hour. Steve's beginning to sweat and his arm is starting to get sore.

And Eddie. Well….

“Oh holy mother of Wayne!”

…. He's not doing great.

They started with Eddie's eyebrows. Which evidently were very difficult to do as the man chose to glare the entire time, and took much longer than they should have with his struggle. Then they did his knuckles and arms, which surprisingly wasn't bad. They just learned Eddie absolutely needs to exfoliate more because his tattoos looked nearly new once the hair and layer of dead skin was removed. 

Then they moved to Eddie's chest, which has hardly any hair. Just a sprinkle between his pecs and a dusting around his nipples. That Eddie didn't mind. Actually he seemed to like it a little too much. Tenting his underwear proudly and stating with a bitchy attitude, “I will not apologise for my body's natural reactions to you playing with my nipples.”

Which Steve supposed he couldn't argue with that.

Now though they've moved on to Eddie's armpits. Which has been eventful. He'd put on pit-stick like Steve had asked him not to, thus resulting in Steve wiping at the damn things until they were clean and sore, and maybe a little inflamed. Which should have been a good enough sign as any to stop, but Steve was too focused on berating his boyfriend to consider taking a break until the skin calmed down.

So, after applying the baby powder like he should and swiping a layer of wax onto Eddie's skin, Steve had pulled back the first wax strip with Eddie's wiry black armpit hair and evidently a layer of skin intacted.

It's nothing awful. It's not like he's oozing blood but, like, there is some there. Popping from Eddie's inflamed skin in little red pin pricks. Dotting now what looks like the rug-burned skin of his boyfriend's armpit.

….He blames Eddie.

None the wiser to the current layer of skin that's been removed from his body in a pinky size strip, Eddie continues to scowl at the ceiling as he bemoans his current situation. “I'm going to die on this bubble gum pink table Steve. Perish from pain alone. I survived bats from hell and I'm going to meet my untimely demise by – why do you look like that?”

Oh, maybe he shouldn't still be staring at the piece of his boyfriend's body stuck to the mess of wax and hair on the muslin strip in his hand.

“Steve, what's wrong?” 

“I- well.” God he's never going to hear the end of this, “Remember how you were worried about ripping your skin off?”

Eddie's eyes grow comically wide, which unfortunately in his case is made even funnier by the red splotchy, freshly waxed skin around his eyebrows.

“Steven.”

“Don't Steven me. If you didn't put on deodorant like I told you to, this wouldn't have happened.”

After a solid second of attempting to surely glare daggers into Steve's soul, Eddie twists to try to get a better look at his one underarm.

“How bad is it? Is it bleeding? Baby, is there going to be permanent damage? Is there a hole!? I can't have a hole in my armpit, Stevie, they'll call me holy pits! I'll die on this godforsaken pink bed and my headstone will read ‘Edward holy pits Munson, Gone Too Soon.’ My obituary will tell the tale of my sordid demise. ‘Perished at the latex wrapped hands of his lover. For if his death were caused by immense pain or bodily harm via hot wax, we'll never know.’”

Steve's giggling by the time Eddie's finished.

“You laugh now, but in no time at all I'll have expired in the kitchen of the home you love.” 

“Eddie-.”

“Will you mourn me?”

“Ed-.”

“Promise me you will, and that you'll take no other lover.”

Steve fondly rolls his eyes. “I promise to mourn you until my dying day, and to leave this world as lonely as I was before you.”

Eddie nods to himself then, still laying on the bed with his arm propped above him, “Good. Now kiss it better.”

He can't be serious.

“Your armp-?”

“Kiss it better and all shall be forgiven!”

Mumbling to himself a quiet ‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ Steve kisses Eddie's armpit and then immediately after, his lips, whispering against them, “Better?”

Eddie hums, kisses Steve again and whispers back, “One more should do the trick.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, kissing Eddie's lips again, “I really do.”

An impromptu make out session on the creaking massage table later, Steve sits up in Eddie's lap. 

“I do still have to wax your legs though.”

“Baby, no.”

“And, um, you know what a Brazilian is?”

By the horrified look in Eddie's eyes, Steve assumes he does.

[lynzishell]

The Present 🤍 San Myshuno

Prev // Next

Transcript + Bonus below the cut:

Li: I just made some tea, would you like some? Dawn: I’d love some, thank you.

Li: So, tell me what’s going on. You sounded upset on the phone. Dawn: [sighs] I’m just exhausted. We’ve been fighting for days. Every time it feels like we might be okay, we get dragged right back into it again. It’s the first time we haven’t been able to work through something. I don’t know what to do.

Li: Do you think it would help to see a counselor? Dawn: Oh, I don’t know. It’s not that serious, is it? Li: Probably not, but why wait until it is?

Dawn: That’s a good point. It’ll have to wait a while though. He went out of town, left yesterday to go to Copperdale to see his uncle. He was supposed to be back tonight because we have plans tomorrow to take Aspen to the pumpkin patch, but apparently, he’s going to Chestnut Ridge now.

Li: What’s in Chestnut Ridge? Dawn: His dad. Li: I thought he didn’t want anything to do with him.

Dawn: Me too. I don’t know what changed. I couldn’t even get him to read the letter, but now he’s going to see him? And he won’t let Aspen and me go with him. Honestly, it just feels like he’s punishing me at this point. Li: I’m sure that’s not true. Dawn: I don’t know. But now I’m not sure if I even want to go to the pumpkin patch tomorrow.

Li: Why not? Dawn: It’s with Asher’s family, which is fine, but with him and Atlas and Phoenix all out of town, I’ll be on my own with them. Li: And that’s a bad thing?

Dawn: Yes. No. I mean, they’re so sweet, and they’ve done so much for us. And having a big family again is all I’ve ever really wanted, but it all just feels so… fake. Like I can’t trust it. Li: Why do you think that is?

Dawn: I don’t know. I guess… if my own parents didn’t care about me, how am I supposed to believe they do?  Li: What about Atlas? Do you believe Ash’s family cares about him? Dawn: Of course. Li: So, what’s the difference? Why doesn’t your logic apply to him?

Dawn: I- I don’t know. I guess because he’s with Ash, it makes more sense that he belongs. Like, if they ever get married, then they will be his family. Maybe I hoped, with Phoenix’s family, that it would be like that for me.

Li: Dawn, I’m going to tell you something and I want you to hear it, okay? Dawn: Okay.

Li: Your parents’ lack of love toward you and your brother is about their inability to love, not your inability to be loved. You are perfectly lovable just as you are. You don’t need them. Nor do you need Phoenix’s family to come in and fill that role. Being someone’s relative doesn’t make them family. Sometimes the two go hand-in-hand, but sometimes they don’t. That doesn’t make it any less real or any less valuable.

Dawn: I feel like Atlas would say the same thing. Li: Well, if so, he’s very wise. Dawn: [smiles] He has his moments. Li: So do you. Dawn: Doesn’t feel like it. I’ve made a real mess of things. What am I supposed to do?

Li: You want my advice? Dawn: Very much.

Li: I think you should try to open your heart to the people that have earned it. Those that have been there for you and your husband and your daughter. Not some strange man who crashes your wedding to leave a letter. Kinda creepy if you ask me.

Dawn: [laughs] Oh god, when you say it like that, it is a little creepy, isn’t it? Li: [laughs] It’s a lot creepy!

Li: But, in all seriousness, I’m sure none of this is easy for Phoenix, and he could probably use your support right now. Dawn: I know. You’re right. Li: And if that feels hard to do, then I can recommend a good therapist. Dawn: I might just take you up on that.

[goldsbitch]

I could tell them where you were that night

part 3 to I gave so many signs

summary: They shouldn't. They really shouldn't...But they did.

warning: present + flashbacks, mature content, cheating, self pleasure, alcohol and smoking, typos

song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)

The Alibi - Dylan delicate - Taylor Swift

But if there was a crime If there was a body, if there was a knife If you told a real good, real bad lie I'd be standing by your side

Both of them knew this was not going to end well. This screamed "bad idea" on all levels. He should have just turned and run back home. She should have gone straight back to the bar as soon as she saw his unmistakable figure. There was no one to diffuse the tension, all of her friends were back upstairs ordering another drink. Nobody to play pretend to.

"So you're a smoker now," Charles said with a hint of disgust. She'd cursed herself for ever picking up the habit. He had never made her nervous back in the day, maybe she was cashing it in all now retroactively. Stood there like a lamb waiting for someone else to decide her destiny. Totally at his mercy and he had no idea. "Yeah, for a moment I was. Now just these," she pointed to the latest trendy vape in her hand, which Charles mistook for a cigarette. "Ah. Cool." "Not really," she said and inhaled extra large dose of fruity smoke just to breathe it in his face. The regular rules of proximity didn't seem to apply to to them. If he had been standing closer to her, he'd have to be touching her. "So, you're a runner now?" she took the opportunity she looked him up and down, trying not to let her imagination run too wild. "Always was." "No, you were not," she laughed genuinely. "What are you trying to play at here?" She was right. Charles picked up running with his first real girlfriend. "And what a bizarre thing anyway - to go for a run after a night out," she pointed out and he smirked, as both of them knew she got him with that. "I should not be seen with you for long. Doubt that you'd pass as a fan." It felt like an invitation from him, but she was well aware that he was not inviting her to his home. There was a strange spark in his face, as if he dared her to ask him to come over. Like a shameless devil testing her self control. "I'll take a cab and you can run over to my place. Let's see who'll get there first," she dared him back.

If there was a way That someone at the scene had saw your face I could tell 'em where you were that night You were standing by my side

"You should have told me that you parents were home!" he whispered angrily, as they snuck in like they used to back in the day. Funny how it worked like magic and Charles felt as if he just turned nineteen, terrified of running into Y/N's angry mom. "What? It's not like your place is empty, correct?" she shot arrows at him without waiting for an answer. Shot of guilt went thought Charles and he decided chased that by lying to himself, thinking that this was just a casual catch up with an old friend.

We can't make Any promises now, can we, babe? But you can make me a drink

Charles waited on the balcony adjacent to her old high school bedroom, that remained untouched for years, serving as a perfect door for nostalgia, while she made their favorite Moscow mule. He had tasted many of those since they last saw each other. None of those tasted so intoxicating like this one.

"So, big racer boy. Always wondered. Which out of the cities you go to is the most fun?" "Define fun. I'm sure your taste has evolved over the years." Yes, it had. No longer was she blind towards the god like man sitting across from her. "Ok, where did you fuck the most girls?" "Monaco," he smirked at her. He realized he enjoyed teasing her. No longer was he the shy love stuck puppy dancing as she demanded. "You became quite forward, huh? I remember you avoiding these subjects," he followed up, testing the waters. She gave him a long look, before letting a loud sigh out: "Charlie, it's been years. People change. Mature. Gain experience..." "And then come back to where they started, huh?"

Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? 'Cause I know that it's delicate

He leaned a little too close for an old time friend. Slowly, he touched her hand and waited for her to stop him. When she didn't, he tangled his fingers with hers. No longer were they soft baby hands, but adult fingers with tender touch. "I missed you," he said quietly. Old habit kicked in and she avoided his eye contact. But this time, he put his hand on her cheek and turned her face towards him, so that she couldn't just dismiss it, like she had so many times back then. "I missed you too." There was an urgency and a vulnerability that he had never heard from her before. It was addicting and intoxicating. He carefully closed the gap between them and their lips brushed so lightly that one could still pass it as friendly touch, if they really really wanted to. But with every second they kept their lips like that, the gap of morally safe evening kept closing inevitably. They stayed like that for just a few seconds, both of them waiting to see if the other one pulls away. Until finally, her lips moved slightly and then there really was no way back. Charles forgot that there ever was anyone else in his life and kissed her slowly. She took his bottom lip in and let her tongue lick it, breaking the soft kiss with urgency only years of daydreaming can bring.

Do the girls back home touch you like I do? Long night with your hands up in my hair Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share

This was bad. Ugly, disrespectful and not something a friend would do. Charles was locked in room again having the luxury to spend few weeks in a sunny Monte Carlo. But sunny days at home also meant that he and Y/N were spending a lot of time together. Charles knew he was head-over-heels for this girl, but kept himself at bay. But these thoughts he was having were a little too much. Inappropriate. Made him feel dirty and shameful. He was just a teenage boy and he just came back from a beach day with his crush. It was impossible to focus on anything, he was suppose be studying for his exam, exploring race strategies, anything! He could have been a good son and helped his mom out. But no, instead he was pacing around his room, desperately trying to block all the images that got burned to his memory under that day's bright sunlight. Why did he even suggest a beach day - and why would she ever agree to that. Stupid idea. Charles was mad at himself for being so stereotypically teenage. For a split second, he stopped with the self-shame and allowed himself to recall this afternoon. Perfect Monaco sunlight hitting Y/N lightly tanned skin, her hair falling out of her messy bun, just begging for him to tuck it behind her ear. This was all still pretty innocent. But then there were the shoulders. The collarbone leading way towards her boobs, covered by a piece of bathing suite fabric, that pushed her cleavage up just a little bit, but it felt like a weapon designer specifically to destroy him. He had to stop himself from looking. When that proved impossible, he opted for looking only when he had his sunglasses on. If only he could take his hand and lightly brush over her nipples, which he couldn't forget about since the Moscow mule night. And then if only he could squeeze her boobs while tracing the line of her waste and over to her ass, also barely covered by a bathing suite. If only he was brave enough to do so, to make his wildest dreams come true and to confess his feelings. To have her come over to his place, look him suggestively in the eye, lick her lips and take him in her pretty little mouth. It didn't matter that she was slightly younger, in his fantasy she was the more experienced one, the one to guide him, instruct him and tell him what she likes. And once he learned, he would make her moan like nobody before, because he would adapt himself to any style she'd want. The visuals of a daydream extension of their today's hang out crept in, and there she was, taking her bra off and inviting him to join her in the water. Free, happy and heavenly hot. By some miracle he managed to avoid having a boner in her company. What he didn't manage was to stop stroking himself while drowning in the thoughts about her and her body, no matter how shameful it was for him. The best orgasm of his life yet had his hands covered with his cum and his head with clouded with growing, never-stoping need for a touch from his crush.

It was a different man kissing Y/N than the boy who had imagined it more times that he would ever admit. Yet still, he was getting to live out his ultimate fantasy, one that he almost forgot he had, until all the desire rushed back in and screamed so loudly he couldn't hear anything else. And the best thing? The best thing was that she was responding enthusiastically, felt as if she was hungry for something only he could have. He was a different man now, experienced, understood the spectrums of what touch could offer. The confidence radiated from him and it was Y/N who was now who danced way over the line of self control. It was her, who drank so much cheap wine in the form of men bad at sex, that she could finally appreciate the Montrachet Chardonnay she overlooked the first time around.

"We should get inside, mon cheri," he whispered into her lips. She understood why and did not want to hear him say it. Because in his silence, she could insert any thought and that was probably better than the hard truth - they were too exposed on her balcony. She nodded and slowly opened her eyes. Even with the dim lights she saw the tender spark in the most captivating shade of blue the world can offer.

Oh damn, never seen that color blue Just think of the fun things we could do

He pressed her to the door frame while devouring her lips. Lines have been crossed and the room was filled with unresolved sexual tension. Charles wanted her - naked and moaning in pleasure. She pulled his hair while they made out and each pull was like gasoline to the fire of his desire. He traced her side with his cheeky finger and then slipped his hand under her t-shirt only to trace the line of her bra and then swiftly cupping her breast. "So you're wearing bras now," he let slip out of his mouth, already fucking her in his thoughts. His comment sparked a distant memory of an evening long gone by now. She was shivering his touch and wanted more and more. "Yeah...but now you're not gonna have to touch yourself alone or secretely," she said, hoping he actually had done that in the past, trying to tease him once more, while grabbing the hem of his belt and pulling him even closer. It worked. He was hard as a rock. He pressed his cock against her and started kissing her neck. She wondered if he understood the cocktail of pleasure and arousal he was preparing for her and felt even a bit shameful to crumble so easily. He felt her cave into his embrace as soon as he touched her neck and made a mental note, so come back to this spot once he was inside her. He thought about her devilish finger making her way to his cock slowly, just painfully slowly. She was teasing him and while he was loving that, he couldn't wait a second longer. He grabbed her hand pushed right onto his erection, which cause her letting out a surprised gasp. "I'm gonna fuck you, Y/N. Say yes if you want me to," he whispered into her neck. Not much second guessing went into her reply. "Yes," she moaned out, causing shivers on his neck. "Really?" he said, unhooking her bra. She smiled. This was no shy unsure Charlie. This was a confident man with intension to make her feel good. "Yes..." With that, he pulled away to help her get her t-shirt off and get rid of the cursed bra. Finally, he could stare as much as he wanted to.

He fucked her like there was no tomorrow. For them there really wasn't a tomorrow, because technically, there wasn't suppose to be a tonight. It was to stay as a blank page, moans written in an invisible ink, for no one but them to read. Morning would bring trouble, reason would wake up and start ordering around. As long as the sun wasn't watching, they were safe, hidden in each other and wrapped by desire.

Sometimes when I look into your eyes I pretend you're mine all the damn time

part 4

--------------------------------------------------------- @linnmee @itsjustkhaos @rhythmstars @blueflorals