#and the fact that i was able to complete it in less than 24 hours?
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR FOUR
in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader
→ wc: 3.8+
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
◁ previous part, next part▷
4:00 ──ㅇ──────────────── 24:00
BIRDIE created a groupchat.
BIRDIE added DINGUS, NANCE, JOHNNY, & ARGYLE 😎
DINGUS: why the fuck is my name dingus
BIRDIE: so… are we going to talk about how in love they look in that photo?
NANCE: Eddie looks like he’s going to commit a federal crime, Robin.
DINGUS: how do i change my name
ARGYLE 😎: a sign of true love my friends
BIRDIE: @NANCE SEE? he gets it.
JOHNNY: Is this chat really necessary?
DINGUS: guys seriously. how the fuck do i change my name?
—
HOUR FOUR - 7:00 PM
Let the record show that you don’t normally care about Lord of the Rings. You’d seen the movies out of obligation to your friends, nothing more, nothing less. You usually held complete indifference towards the trilogy. As a matter of fact, you’d nearly given Robin an aneurysm the day you’d informed them all you preferred the Hobbit trilogy over the original movies.
Eddie, it seems, holds a similar sentiment to Robin.
“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” he sighs dramatically, sinking into the couch and looking far more comfortable than he had previously. A bottle of cheap beer dangles carelessly in his hand. He’d decided to grab both of you one the moment this argument had begun, “You casually bring up Gandalf, and then you proceed to have the worst opinions on the greatest franchise of all time. A crime against humanity.”
“I’m sorry,” you say sincerely through genuine laughter.
You were laughing. You were sitting on Eddie Munson’s couch, in his apartment, laughing with him rather than at him. It was a fluke in the system, a blip in the Universe. You tell yourself it’s just the effects of the beer.
“What’s next? You tell me you prefer Star Wars over Star Trek? Or, let me guess, you’ve never read the books?”
He looks nice like this, at ease. This hour might be setting the track record for the longest the two of you had gone without insulting one another, and you begin to wonder why you’d never been able to hold such a civil conversation with him before tonight. The two of you might not be agreeing or seeing completely eye to eye, but there was enough agreement to keep the entire debate chugging along.
He notices your silence as you take a sip of the beer you’ve nearly polished off, smirking around the rim of it, a bit of beer lingering at the corner of your mouth. “Oh my God. You’ve never read the books.”
“I never said that!”
“You never said you did!”
Your mouth is open, fighting back at the curl of the corners, unable to defend yourself because he was right. “I- Who even reads anymore?”
“Excuse me?” his voice pitches as he sits up straight suddenly, “Oh, no. There’s no way you just said that. There’s no way you don’t read.”
You shrug, and his beer is quickly set to the side.
“C’mon, everyone reads. You’ve got to have a guilty pleasure book.”
“Nope,” you tuck your bottle between your thighs, and catch the way his eyes had followed the bottle before snapping back to yours, “I just prefer the movies, I guess.”
“No one prefers the movies. You’re a goddamn liar,” he shakes his head and some of the frizzy curls fall against his collar bones rather than continuing to tickle his shoulders, “You have to read something. Romance novels, boring essays, the news. Hell, even magazines or that written porn shi-” he cuts off when you smile at the mention of magazines. “Why are you smiling like that? Stop it. It’s creepy. Do you read those porno books?”
“God, no,” you laugh. A lie - you’d certainly read excerpts from Fifty Shades of Grey he was referencing to understand what the hype was to no prevail, “Just ironic you bring up magazines. You probably consider yourself a real connoisseur, don’t you?”
He flushes crimson. His cheeks that had tinged pink from the warmth of the beer are now flaming red. “I have no idea what you mean.”
He clearly did.
“Right,” you drawl, “So which article in that Playboy caught your eye? The one about the psychological deep dive into what makes sex so great, or the interview with that one porn star? No, wait, I got it! It was totally the one that gave fifteen ways to drive a girl crazy-”
“It’s not a fucking Seventeen magazine,” he snaps, but the malice in his voice is dull, “There’s no lists on how to get the girl, it’s a porn ‘zine, Jesus H. Christ.”
“I know that, do you?” you press, reveling in the brush crawling its way down the side of his neck.
He runs a hand over his face, groaning, “I’m not even going to entertain you with an answer. Fuck off.”
“Do you just ignore all the photos of the beautiful women?” you don’t hold back your teasing, subconsciously leaning his way as your voice lilts with sarcasm, “Ignoring all those bushes? Or maybe you just prefer the Brazilian cut?”
“I liked it better when we were talking about your illiteracy,” he deadpans, staring straight ahead at his entertainment center.
“I never said I couldn’t read, just that I choose not to most of the time,” you finally pull back a bit, scared to push it all too far. You pull your legs up beneath you on the couch and move the beer that has gone warm to the table on the opposite end as his, “Sue me for trying to make friendly conversation.”
You await his expected response about how this was not friendly conversation. You start to do mental gymnastics of a way to bring up the specific model he had marked the pages of, of the eerie resemblance she bears to you and a way to push his buttons regarding it. This conversation was following your script, not his.
Or at least, it was.
“Fine. I prefer the bush, I always find the lack of hair kind of weird,” he says, throwing you off your game effectively. He stares at you with now expecting eyes, “What about you?”
You’re grateful you’d stopped nursing the beer, or you surely would have choked, “What?”
“What’s your preference?” he clarifies, not backing down, “On yourself, on partners. Whatever.”
“I- I don’t- I never-” you stumble over your words, at a complete loss for an answer. It only makes him smirk as he’s now the one leaning in closer, close enough to catch the smell of his cologne concentrated on him.
You hadn’t realized you’d adjusted the boyish smell of the apartment until this very moment.
“See? Not so fun when you’re the one getting asked the personal questions.”
He’s right – you shouldn’t dish out what you can’t handle him throwing back into your face.
“Fine,” you mimic him, squaring your shoulders, “Bush.”
“On yourself or others?”
“Myself,” there was no use in being shy now, “But also on, uh, partners. Kind of unfair to expect something from someone I wouldn’t give in return.”
He nods in surprising consideration at the notion. His face twists as if he’s taking words you’d thrown out there so carelessly to heart, as if there’s some hidden message that even you hadn’t realized was laced in the notion. For a moment, you start to believe he’s committing the words to memory before he answers you.
“That’s fair,” is all he says.
A moment of intense thought for that?
“What? That’s all you’ve got to say?” you scoff, and busy yourself with the beer again out of nerves. It’s warm and bitter on your tongue, but it’s better than looking him in the eyes. Warm, honey eyes you’d never really cared to notice before.
“Yeah,” he lifts his shoulders into an offhand shrug, “I mean, what else is there to say? Like you said, you can’t expect something from someone you can’t return.”
Another silence drags out, and this time, it’s stifling. You never thought you’d live to see the day where Eddie being quiet would bother you, but it does. The lack of words in the air is leaving too much room for thought from both of you. It’s giving you too much time to think on those warm, honey eyes and those damn dimples. Trivial things about Eddie that you don’t care to remember past tonight.
“My friend collects vintage Playboys,” you blurt out, internally cursing yourself immediately. What a stupid conversation segway.
Should have teased him about the dog-eared pages, you regretfully think as you dare to look his way.
His face is surprisingly smooth, eyebrows quirking up into the frayed edges of his bangs, “Oh really?”
You nod, “Yeah. Hell of a lot more bushes in the seventies.”
A lot less of that model you like, you silently add, once more not voicing that concern out loud.
The dimples return. Those fucking dimples. “Hm, guess I should check them out, then.”
“She collects them for aesthetic purposes,” you continue to ramble, filling the air, unsure of why you’re even defending yourself. You’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Eddie to dissect the small piece of your life you’ve offered, “It’s… It’s really cool, actually.”
“It sounds cool,” he agrees gently.
The other shoe is left dangling in the air, if it even continues to exist.
You think about his earlier question, of whether you really wanted to keep up a miserable act for the entire twenty four hours. If the last hour hadn’t already solidified your answer, you knew now for a matter of fact that he had a point, even if he did proceed to insult you after the question. You didn’t want to spend this time miserable. The passing of time came easier when it was like this, all rounded-edged banter and friendly words exchanged. When Eddie Munson wasn’t being an asshole and making personal digs at you, he was actually a nice person to have around.
You’d never tell him that, of course.
“It’s why I collect all that,” he motions his hand towards the shelving of figurines and trinkets, “I just think it’s cool, you know? I… Uh, I sort of lied earlier. Most of that shit isn’t that expensive. But it’s not about how much it’s worth money-wise, it’s just worth a lot to… to me.”
A glimpse of crimson, a flash of vulnerability that proves that Eddie has a heart just as you do. It beats erratically, and it can bleed just the same.
“That makes sense,” you offer in response. You may not get it, but you wouldn’t push his buttons on the topic. They may be nothing but clutter from your perspective, but the same could be said about the vintage Playboys your friend collects. The same could be said about plenty of things that are sentimental to you. “Doesn’t it get creepy, though? Like, you bring home a girl-”
“Or a guy,” he interjects, making you smile.
“You bring home a girl, or a guy, and you’ve just got Gandalf staring you down while you make a move. Or… Or, Darth Vader?” you squint to pinpoint another figurine, “Is that Darth Vader? Didn’t you say Star Trek is better than Star Wars?”
“Never said that,” he points at you with a tilt of his head, “I just don’t prefer Star Wars over Star Trek.”
“Have you seen Star Wars? It’s way more entertaining.”
“Have you seen Star Trek?” he counters, but it’s clearly rhetorical as he continues on, “I like both. Having a preference for one doesn’t mean I’m completely against the other. Besides, the light saber effects are fucking incredible.”
“So you prefer the prequels?” you ask eagerly.
“I guess. I mean, the original trilogy is still badass and a classic,” he stands abruptly, and you’re worried you’ve said something wrong, but he just walks over to the Darth Vader figurine to pick it up and bring it back over with him as he flings down onto the couch, now several spaces closer to you rather than opposing ends, “It’s kind of hard to beat the ‘Luke, I am your father’ reveal,” his voice dips down to a deep tone, a fairly spot on impersonation, “But it was also nice seeing his origin story.”
“Plus Ewan McGregor and Hayden Christensen are gorgeous,” you add, almost daring to lean over and bump shoulders with him. But you don’t. You keep what little space remains between the two of you.
“Of course,” Eddie rolls his eyes, “The eye candy is what gets you.”
“And the cool effects!”
“Right. Next you’re going to say you definitely watched for the plot, huh?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“And the plot’s name just happens to be Ewan.”
You bite down the grin that starts to ache your cheeks, because you’re not supposed to smile around Eddie this much. “Now you’re getting it.”
The hand holding the Darth Vader figurine suddenly thrusts out in your direction, and you find yourself jumping a bit. When you don’t take it, he waves it around a bit, raising an eyebrow, “It doesn’t bite, you know.”
“You said to not touch your shit.”
It’s a pathetic lie, you both know it. But he doesn’t know how scared you are to brush fingertips with him, how the way his arm being so close has electricity buzzing from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head. One small shift, one outreached hand, and your skin would brush his.
It would surely be nuclear. An explosion with no survivors, least of all you.
“Oh, c’mon. You’ve disregarded that rule the entire time, why start being a goody two shoes now?” he teases.
Which is fine, except Eddie teases a certain way – with his entire body. His knee knocks into yours, he leans into your space, a boyish grin spreads over his lips. You’ve seen him dance around this kind of lighthearted conversation with everyone else in your friend group except you. It’s uncharted territory, and your heart nearly breaks out of your chest from its rapid racing.
You’re just lucky that there’s two layers of jeans between your knees. The nuclear explosion will have to wait for another day.
Instead of an answer, you reach out and grab the figurine nimbly by the small leg. Your fingertips narrowly evade Eddie’s and you’re eternally grateful and his arm retracts. You poke and prod, gently wiggling the red, flexible stick that serves as his lightsaber and pinch at the edges of his cape.
In your silence, Eddie speaks, “It’s not a crazy collectible or anything, like I said. It probably would have been more valuable to keep it in its packaging, but one time Wheeler brought his little sister over while they were in town, and she wanted to see him out of the box, so I took him out. You know Wheeler, right?”
You shake your head, inspecting the figurine even closer now. It still looks brand new; you’d never be able to tell that a child, presumably, had played with the ‘toy’.
“Oh,” Eddie looks taken back, faltering slightly, “Sorry, I- I just sort of assumed that…. You, uh…. You had met Steve’s children.”
“Oh!” your head shoots up from where your nose had been nearly pressed into the figure, taking in the detailing of the chest piece, “You mean Mike? I’ve heard about him, yeah. Just in passing, though.”
There’s more for Eddie to say, it’s clear in the way his mouth falls open with the corners quirked, but then you’re interrupted by a phone ringing.
Your phone.
Steve’s contact photo occupies the screen for the second time tonight, a ridiculous photo of him scowling at the camera in a yellow jumper while holding a can of pringles in front of him, one of his hands bringing a single chip to his pouting lips.
“Let me answer it,” Eddie insists, holding out his hand as you stare down at the phone, still chiming annoyingly.
“Were they supposed to call this often?” you ask, knowing well enough that Eddie didn’t have the answer.
His hand waves in impatience, and you don’t put up a fight as you let him take the phone and swipe the answering bar, focusing instead on the Darth Vader discarded into your lap as he puts the call on speaker.
“Hello?” Eddie answers in a chirpy tone.
“How many times do we have to te- hold on. Munson?” Steve starts off aggressive, but his tone melts into confusion, “Why the hell are you answering her phone?”
“Because I’ve murdered her,” he flatly replies, but his face doesn’t match his tone at all.
He fucking winks at you. Your grip on Darth Vader tightens until you’re afraid you're about to snap it.
“Not funny.”
“Not a joke.”
“Where is she, Eddie?” Steve sighs like an irritated parent, in no mood for games, “Please tell me you didn’t manage to make her lock herself in a room again.”
“I told you. She’s gone. Sacrificed to the Dark Lord or whatever. Just got to go dump her body in the lake-”
You shouldn’t joke along with him, but you still whisper the correction of, “The canals.”
“Sorry, I mean the canals.”
Another deep sigh. You can picture the way Steve was currently pinching the bridge of his nose at the two of you.
“I heard her, you idiot. Now that we know you’re both clearly alive and well…. Where the hell is our photo proof?”
You both share a look, and you quickly mouth, already?
Eddie shrugs and mouths back, I guess.
“We lost track of time,” you finally say out loud, still locked in eye contact with Eddie. His brown eyes are surprisingly captivating, several autumn shades all woven together. Burnt orange leaves, red apples, brown sweaters. You never thought you’d be able to see a season in someone’s irises, yet here you were, picturing it clear as day. “Let us hang up and we’ll send the photo.”
Steve starts to speak, but Eddie’s thumb is quick to end the call. The moment your lock screen stares back at both of you, you look at the time.
7:41. Shit.
“Oops,” Eddie whispers as he hands the phone back over, “They really gave us quite the grace period that time.”
“Yeah,” you breathe out, quickly opening your damn camera app. “So, how do we want to do this one?”
Eddie thinks for a moment before he launches himself back to his side of the couch, and motions for you to toss him your phone.
And once again, you put your faith in him, not even hesitating this time.
It happens naturally; you both mirror each other, drawing up your knees, your sock-clad toes bumping firmly against one another. Your back is supported by the worn arm behind you, similar to how Eddie’s is, as you face him.
He quickly angles the camera towards you, sticking a hand out into the frame while raising his middle finger. You don’t know what to do, so one hand holds up the Darth Vader as the other mimics flipping him off.
A soft click from your phone. The photo’s taken, and you’re not even sure if you were smiling.
“Trade,” he leans forward, one hand holding out your phone, the other reaching out for Darth Vader.
You oblige, and go through the same process for his photo. His white socks contrast your black ones, and the corners of his lips twitch upwards no matter how hard of a line he presses them into. You can’t look at him directly, and settle for watching him through the screen as you hit the small grey button to snap the photo.
Just as quickly as he had shoved away from you, he’s back at your side, watching you send off the photos to the group chat with a thumbs up emoji. You take a deep breath, scanning over the pair of photos until it’s confirmed that they’re delivered, and lock your phone. Your brows are furrowed in your reflection staring back at you through the black screen.
“Do you really want to keep up the miserable act the entire twenty four hours?” Eddie’s voice echoes in your mind.
No, you don’t. No matter how wrong this levity with Eddie feels, no matter how uncomfortable it is each time you remember that he’s meant to be the enemy and not someone to share laughter and smiles with, you don’t want to waste these remaining twenty hours being miserable.
“What’s up?” Eddie’s actual voice echoes in real time as you continue to stare at your reflection.
“Just thinking,” you grunt. The thought of admitting your decision to Eddie is much more intimidating than simply acknowledging it to yourself.
“Dangerous.”
Instead of quipping something rude back, you decide to be vulnerable with Eddie. You decide to crack yourself open just a small bit, just as he had done microscopically when he spoke of his collection of items. It’s a dangerous gamble, and you don’t give yourself the chance to overthink it.
“You were right, earlier,” you force the words out, fighting the way they try to cling onto your tongue and remain safely in your throat.
“About… what?” He looks distrusting, and for good reason. He said plenty of things earlier - you could be preparing to remind him of any number of rude things he’d spewed.
“About keeping up the miserable act,” you explain, turning your head to him and abandoning the phone, “You were right. I don’t want to be miserable this entire time. It… It goes by faster when we’re not about to strangle each other, believe it or not.”
You swear you see his shoulders sag in relief. “Well, yeah, I could have told you that. I did tell you that, actually.”
“Shut up,” you force a scowl, “My point is… I don’t know, maybe, we could try to- try to just- we could be-”
“Civil?” he finishes the sentence you stumble over.
You nod, “Yeah. We could be civil.”
The word feels foreign on your tongue. Civility was not something you’d ever considered with Eddie, but the last hour had proven it to be possible.
“Okay,” he nods along with you. He turns his entire body to face you, knees once again bumping as he sticks out a hand for you to shake, “Deal. We will try to be civil the rest of the time.”
“Civil,” you repeat yourself again, more sure this time, still staring at his offered hand.
An olive branch. The opportunity to work together to survive the next twenty hours. The opportunity for his bare skin against yours.
You think again of nuclear explosions and pulsing electricity, of open chests and matching scarlets, of smashing glasses against walls and ruined parties, of wounds healing over in scar tissues as they glow a gentle pink.
Civil. You wonder if that’s one of the words they’ll include on your gravestone as you reach out your hand and let Eddie’s palm meet yours.
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#twenty four hours#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#let's see if i can get it to post in one try this time
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Hi hi! Can I please request Furina/Focalors with the first prompt? Tysm and congratulations on reaching such a big milestone!
“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.”
characters: Furina x gn!reader
warnings: none, just fluff
a/n: As I’m starting to write this, it’s 22.30 (exactly 24:00 as I finish). I have school tomorrow and just returned from an exhausting hours long car drive. Why am I writing? Easy. because I felt like it.
AND FURINA IS JUST SO SLKVNLSDNVLVNLSNDVLJ
Anyway, hope you enjoy!
Furina
The plan was simple. So simple in fact that Furina was sure even a toddler would be able to perfectly understand each and every of its steps, yet the simplicity of her genius plan in no way made it any less grand. In fact it was the grandest and most genius plan there ever was. All it needed you to do was simply stare in awe and feel your heart flutter at the sight of your Archon displaying her oratory and investigative prowess by defeating the renowned Traveler in the court case of the century.
She could have made it more difficult for herself, choosing their battle to be in any less one-sided field, but even Furina hadn’t expected this case to go so smooth, sneaking triumphant glances at your front-row seat whenever she made an excellent point, yet calming slightly down when instead of finding you awe-struck, you seemed more intrigued in the case, paying equal attention to both sides.
And yet, it didn’t matter. For she was sure that all it took for you to completely fall for her was one more excellent counter from her side, and then you’d be hers.
...when Furina not only found herself on the losing side, but humiliated by someone who never practiced law before, she took every opportunity to escape the opera building before locking herself up in her room and letting not a single soul in. Neither her servants, nor Neuvillette being granted entry through her door. So when you received an unexpected letter from the chief justice, asking you to give it a try, it was fair to say your expectations weren’t all that high.
A knock, then silence. Two more and you could hear the sound of footsteps approaching from the other side. One more knock and-
“What do you want?”, rang out a familiar voice, tired and grumpy as if just awoken. You took a glance at the clock. 2 pm.
“I was told you refused to leave your room, do you want to talk it out?”, you asked, loud enough for her to hear you from the other side of the door, yet whispered so nobody could overhear you. The moment words started leaving your mouth, the footsteps grew frantic, seemingly pacing from one end of the room to the other, only for the door to eventually unlock, open in a flash before a hand grabbed you, pulled you inside and the door shut again.
What you were greeted with was a seemingly hastily dressed Archon, her expensive clothes not buttoned up correctly in some spots while her hair seemed messier than usual. And yet you didn’t say a word. You were the first person she didn’t outright refuse to talk with since the court case so you definitely were not going to make her regret letting you in.
“What are you talking about? Me refusing to leave my room has nothing to do with what happened in court, I am simply busy working on a new project of mine”, Furina began to talk in her usual manner, trying to sound completely confident only to fold her hands in front of her chest as her cheeks grew slightly red in embarrassment from recalling that day.
It was fair to say that you weren't sold.
“Are you still embarrassed about what happened? We all make mistakes from time to time, no matter if you’re an Archon, human or… I don’t know, an ant. So there’s no need to-”, you began in your attempt to console her, only for her to dodge the hand you were trying to put on her shoulder before interrupting you.
“I do not care if anyone else remembers, but could at least you forget about it”, she almost screamed out loud, just a single word removed from covering her ears with her hands as she looked away from you, the only thing visible to you being her deep-red ears.
“Are you sure the person you want to forget the most isn’t the chief justice? Why me-”
“Because I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do to impress you now”, the words shot out of Furina in such a way that her voice cracked a million times, her hands now firmly pressed against her ears as her eyes closed, the Archon fleeing the embarrassment she caused herself the only way she could.
For a few moments you were left staring dumbfoundedly at the figure in front of you, face as red as if it had been used as a canvas for a group of kindergarteners that only had one single color available. If you were to take a picture of her now, you had no doubt you’d find yourself banished for at least 4 consecutive lifetimes, and yet you found the sight… somewhat adorable.
As you slowly but surely put your arms around her, Furina finally started to calm down, although the color of her face still was nowhere near to changing back to normal. And before long, the Archon hesitantly wrapped her arms around you as well, neither of you speaking a word in what felt like an eternity.
“You can remember the confession, but purge your memories of anything else that happened”, she eventually spoke up, her voice sounding almost calm, if it weren’t for the obvious nervousness.
“What are you talking about?”, you played along, only to feel her head nod in satisfaction.
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WIBTA for completely ignoring a very long and thought-out apology message?
TL;DR: Abusive ex sent me apology after two years of silence and I’m not sure I want to acknowledge it.
So I was in a very abusive relationship with my ex for around a year. I’m going to try not to go into too much detail, but I tend to ramble and this is a hard topic for me so I’m sorry in advance if this ends up super long.
When we started dating, it was great for the first six months or so. I noticed certain things that made me question if she could have BPD (intense jealousy, sudden mood switches, impulsivity, self-destructive behaviour) and encouraged her to speak to her therapist about it. She eventually did and was diagnosed with BPD, but she wasn’t able to get on medication for another few months. After that, everything seemed to just… completely spiral. She started to control who I could speak to (I was only allowed to be with friends for an hour, and if I was even a few minutes late she’d be blowing up my phone accusing me of cheating etc. and ignoring me for days), she wanted me to cut off every friend who didn’t like her or warned me about the relationship and would accuse me of disrespecting boundaries if I objected, she would shout at me 24/7 (e.g. we’d be talking fine, she’d tell me she had a headache, I’d say I was sorry, and she’d suddenly be yelling that she didn’t need my pity and that I was patronising her), she constantly tracked where I was and who I was with, she lied to me constantly about things both major and minor, and by the end of it she was physically aggressive. This eventually culminated in her cheating on me, me giving her another chance (zoinks), and her cheating on me again less than a month later with a man she knew had SA’d me in the past. After that I just couldn’t take it anymore and finally got the courage to leave.
This unfortunately made everything worse. She split on me - basically a BPD thing where your opinion on someone goes from love to hate or vice versa in an instant - and she made it her mission to make my life hell. For almost a year and a half after our breakup, she was sending things to my house, to my family’s houses, she was stalking my social medias and sending me death threats from burner accounts, all of her own social medias became solely dedicated to talking about me, and then the worst part - she knew I wanted to go to college to become a primary (elementary) school teacher, and so she called up the college I was going to attend and told them I was a pedophile. She went all out with this accusation and was posting it all over Twitter, messaging my friends, getting her friends to post it - it was crazy. Thankfully it did not actually affect my education because I explained what was going on and I had evidence that things she was saying happened were false, but it was a super terrifying and stressful time.
While that was going on, she used the fact I was an SA victim against me - at one point she told me to “shut up and go get raped again”, and another Tweet she made accusing me of being a pedophile was followed up with “Shame you’ll never get that teaching job, I hear they’re not so kind to people like you in prison”.
Making everything more confusing is the fact that every few months it’s like she’d switch back - she’d send me an apology message, tell all her friends it was a lie, get back in contact with me and tell me she was on meds and going to therapy and everything was getting better, and then a few weeks later she’d be posting about how abusive I was again and blocking me everywhere. It felt like there was nothing I could do - if I ignored it, she’d step it up to get a reaction, and if I did acknowledge it, she’d step it up anyway because I was reacting.
Finally, FINALLY, I threatened to get a restraining order and everything stopped.
Almost two years pass and nothing. I’m now happily engaged to a wonderful girl who was my best friend throughout that whole relationship and knew exactly how affected I was by it. I’m going to therapy, was diagnosed with PTSD, and have been slowly moving on. I still have nightmares about her, and sometimes things will get me (e.g. a few months ago I saw someone who looked like her on TV unexpectedly and had a panic attack), but things are good. Much better. I was thinking of it all much less, I wasn’t dedicating energy to it, I wasn’t even angry or upset anymore, it was just a past lesson I’d learned and didn’t need to worry about anymore.
Then last week I wake up to a message. Again, it’s been two years.
Now, this message was LONG. It was from my ex, apologising for everything she’d done. It was a genuinely nice message and clearly had a lot of thought in it. She said she knew it was selfish to message me when I’d moved on but that she had things to say for her own peace of mind. She said she was happy to see I was engaged, that she’s done a lot of self-reflecting and healing. She said she tried to date again and ended up “karma’d “ - that the relationship was scarily similar to ours but with her in my shoes this time - and that it had made her realise just how disgusting her actions had been and how badly she’d fucked me up. She made it clear she wasn’t looking for forgiveness or to reconnect, just to apologise.
Part of me is mildly skeptical because of the fact she’d apologised multiple times before and it never stuck, but the two year gap and the way it’s phrased makes me believe this is truly genuine. She seems to have matured and changed as a person.
Thing is, I just… can’t bring myself to respond. Every time I go to do it, I remember things she said or did to me and just can’t. I feel like if I just responded and said no hard feelings and explicitly told her I have moved on and am doing better, I could give her the same closure that this apology might eventually give me. It would be closing this chapter for good for both of us and I could just never think about her again.
And yet I just. Haven’t. I’m scared to open the window of communication again in any way, I’m scared it’ll be taken back, I’m scared that this will take me back to square one because she’s put herself back in my life (even tangentially) and now I’m thinking about her again after so long of trying so hard to heal.
So WIBTA if I just… didn’t acknowledge it? If I let her essentially wonder forever it it was ever seen or read because I just don’t know what to do about it, even if I’m potentially keeping closure from her for my own comfort?
What are these acronyms?
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Splatoon 3 Version 5.0 Patch Notes Breakdown
Nintendo dropped the patch notes for patch 5.0 just about an hour ago, so let's do what we do and take a look at the changes, which won't take long, because there's not a lot of them this time around.
Starting with the Main Weapon section, three weapons are seeing changes:
Splat Brella and Undercover Brella are getting the same change, a one second/half a second decrease to shield recharge time. A lot of things can tear through Brella shield quite fast in this game, so this lets you get back into the action faster. I don't think it was the first change anyone would have asked for, but it's good all the same.
I also wanna mention that Splat Brella is getting a pretty significant bugfix in this patch, further down in the patch notes:
This change should make the shield more reliable, and couple that with the new buff, and the fantastic new kit, and I think Brella players have a lot to look forward to this patch.
Meanwhile, REEF-LUX's spread has been tightened when tap-firing and at one level of charge. I've seen some people speculate this might be a nerf because it'll reduce its paint, but I doubt it'll change much considering how much of a machine this thing is in the ink department, and I think the fact that it's able to splat more reliably without fully charging is going to be very positive for it.
Moving onto Specials:
Killer Wail is being changed to be more reliable, as it'll do more of the aiming for you, meaning you won't have to keep looking at your targets.
Zipcaster can now attach closer to you than it did previously, and the explosion damage and radius when you land has been increased. This means you'll be able to use it in close-quarters combat almost like a Burst Bomb, and Zipcaster actually has pretty good damage already, so it'll combo a lot more reliably with all of the Main weapons that have it like Stamper and Luna. Keep an eye out on this Special once the patch drops, because it might be kinda scary now.
Finally, Tacticooler is getting a nerf, having the period between when you use it to being able to charge your Special again increased by 2.5 seconds. After all of its buffs, Tacticooler has become a staple of the meta game, and this will reduce the frequency with which its most prominent users, most notably N-Zap and Snipewriter, are able to output them.
On that note, let's take a look at Points For Special changes next:
And hey, would you look at that! N-Zap gets hit with another 10p for its Tacticooler. If you've not been keeping up with competitive play, I think some important context is that N-Zap is almost completely ubiquitous at the moment, because it gets Tacticooler so fast that it can have the buff basically permanently if it doesn't die. This is a very deserved nerf, because frankly it shouldn't ever have been 180p to begin with.
The only other change is the Annaki Nova, which also gets an additional 10p, and I think this one is deserved as well, albeit for different reasons. The Annaki Nova is hardly a competitive allstar, but it's range and ink efficiency means that it can very often just spend entire matches farming Inkjets. Weapons that do nothing but paint the ground and spam Specials are not healthy for the game, they're dull to play and even less fun to play against, and I am happy to see that this seems to be Nintendo's opinion as well.
And that moves us onto the final balance changes, the Abilities:
Tenacity will now charge your Special gauge faster when its active. While we can't tell how much faster it is, it's still an uncomplicated positive change. Tenacity is currently very niche, only really seeing frequent use alongside the Hydra, but now more weapons might gravitate towards it.
And finally, Last-Ditch Effort's maximum effect has been reduced from being equivalent to 8 sub slots of Ink Saver Main, Ink Saver Sub and Ink Recovery (that's 8 for each!!! 24 sub slots total on a single main slot!!!!) to 6. This is one of the most explicitly competitive play-targeted changes they've done in the history of the series, because LDE is incredibly popular for its ability to sustain extended fights over the object. One particular thing worth mentioning is that this change means LDE will no longer be enough to give you two Fizzy Bombs on a full tank (though it'll still do that if you have 1 sub slot of Ink Saver Sub, but don't tell anyone I said that). LDE will still be incredibly good, but this will mean it won't be as much of an uncontested obvious pick for your headgear slot any more.
And that's all of the balance changes! This is a small patch, but while I think they could have done more to buff the weaker main and sub weapons, I still think it's a very good patch. The current meta is actually very healthy and diverse, more than its ever been, so some cautious buffs and a couple of nerfs aimed with laser-like precision are all very good!
But let's go over some cool miscellaneous stuff in the patch notes, as well. It's not just all balances changes, after all.
The Grizzco Dualies have been official confirmed! Additionally, random weapon rotations can now have multiple different Grizzco weapons, and not just the same one each time.
Three new songs are being added, separately from the new Deep Cut banger they revealed last week. These are presumably all tracks by that new band we heard in the reveal trailer, H2Whoa.
If I'm interpreting things correctly, the two Splatfest queues will now have different stages available?
Matchmaking is looking like it'll be a bit more reliable!
Not content with dropping 80 banners and 400 titles on us, we are also getting 160 decorations and 140 stickers! That's a lot of stuff!
And that's all of the fun and/or noteworthy stuff in the patch notes. I think. I bet a lot of people will see this patch as disappointing, thinking it should have changed more things. But change for change's sake is not necessarily a good thing, and when the top-level meta is so healthy and diverse, the last thing you wanna do is violently destabilize it. Nintendo chose to approach the patch with a scalpel, and I'd rather that than a hammer.
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Birthday Surprise
Christian Pulisic x reader
You book a last minute flight to see Christian for his birthday, giving him a big surprise and maybe a bit more.
Word Count: 6k
Warnings: Fluff & smut
You heard your phone ringing on the bedside table, quickly glancing at the time, you knew it could only be one person wanting to Facetime with you. Answering with a “hey, you” your eyes slowly focused on the man on the screen. He looked tired, worn down, and a bit sad. “What’s wrong?”, you uttered. He let out a sigh, “nothing really, just miss you, wishing I could see you soon.” Your heart broke at his words, but your conversation continued with the usual discussion about your days and the next few days ahead. Tomorrow is his birthday, and he has a match so neither of you were sure how much you would actually be able to talk with the time difference and the fact that match days are typically long and busy for him. When he let out a yawn, you quietly urged him to get some sleep. Checking to see that it was in fact just after midnight in London, you whispered, “Happy Birthday, baby. I miss you and I love you.” He thanked you and confirmed that he was going to try to get some sleep. “I miss you, I love you, y/n”
After ending the call with him, you did something completely out of the ordinary for yourself. Quickly checking to see if there were any flights available, you found one departing for London at midnight. You had just about six hours to get your things together and get to the airport. You quickly booked the flight, cringing slightly at the cost of the last minute departure, but knowing it would be worth it to see him. You sent an email to your boss, letting her know that you would be working remotely from London for the next several days and apologized for the last minute notice. You worked from home most of the time anyways, so it shouldn't be a big deal for your location to change. Next you sent a text to one of his teammates. Thankfully, you had contact information for a few of them after meeting them during preseason. At the time, you were working on a birthday present for Christian so you exchanged numbers so that you could continue working out details later. You knew he would probably be asleep, but hopefully he would be able to help you out when he woke up in the morning.
Y/N: Hi, Mason! Sorry if this wakes you, but I have booked a last minute flight to London. I’ll be arriving tomorrow to surprise Christian for his birthday. Could you possibly help me with tickets for tomorrow’s match?
Mason: Hey, Y/N. I’ll see what I can work out in the morning, shouldn’t be a problem. He will be so excited to see you.
Y/N: Thanks! He seemed off tonight when we talked. I’m worried about him and hoping a visit will cheer him up.
Mason: You have no idea how happy it will make him. He never shuts up about you xx
Y/N: 😊 thanks again! Good night and good luck tomorrow!
You rushed around your apartment gathering the things you needed for the trip. You didn’t even have time to become anxious about seeing him in less than 24 hours, you were just running on the adrenaline and excitement. You made your way to the airport and boarded your flight and that’s when your nerves hit you. Was this a stupid and crazy decision? What if he already had plans that you were interfering with? You’ve never even been to London, surely this is madness.
*****
The two of you had met in the spring at an event being planned by the company you worked for and you had hit it off instantly. You were both pleasantly surprised to find how easily the conversation flowed between you, it was like you had known each other for years, not just a few hours. By the end of the night, you had exchanged phone numbers and Christian had asked if you could meet up again before he flew back to London.
You spent much of the next few days in one another’s company having gone out on his boat, meeting a few of his friends, enjoying drinks and a few nights of dancing. However, reality soon hit when he had to leave. Christian was determined not to let the distance come between you and he made every effort to call, facetime, and text you as much as he could. The two of you had slowly gotten to know one another over the next few months and both of you began to crave “seeing” each other more and more. When he came home for his summer break, you had been inseparable, seamlessly slipping into one another’s lives and beds. It was close to the end of his pre-season that he had asked to make things official with you, he wanted you to be his, and he admitted that he had fallen in love with you and couldn’t imagine going back to London without telling you how he felt about you. He appreciated that you wanted to keep things private between you, with only your closest friends and family members knowing about your relationship. He admired that you didn’t seem intimidated by his world and that you just loved him for being who he was without expecting or wanting to gain anything from being close to him. Loving Christian was the easiest thing you had ever done, but the distance was the hardest.
*****
When your plane landed in London, you immediately noticed the notification you had.
Mason: Sorted. Text me when you are close to the Bridge and I’ll meet you so that you have somewhere to keep your luggage until later. Safe travels, Y/N. xx
Y/N: Thank you! I owe you one! I’ve just landed, but I’ll let you know when I get to the stadium.
Checking the time and doing the quick math to figure out what time it would be at home, you knew it wasn’t too early there and Christian shouldn’t be suspicious getting a text from you at this time, you sent him a message.
Y/N: Happy Birthday, baby! 🥳 I love you! Good Luck tonight!
Christian: Thank you, babe. I miss you so fucking much. I love you! I’ll call you later.
Christian: Oh, I got a package from you earlier. I'll FaceTime you later and open it 😘
Y/N: I'm so glad it made it 😍 Can't wait to talk later. Good Luck today! I'll be watching 😘
Your stomach filled with butterflies thinking about seeing him in a few short hours.
As you were getting closer to Stamford Bridge you sent Mason a quick text letting him know you were close. He gave you directions to the entrance where he would meet you and help you with your luggage and give you the passes that would get you into the match as well as the player’s family boxes. He had arranged for his family to meet you once you were inside the stadium so that you would have someone to show you around and you were incredibly thankful for the kindness he had shown you.
When you arrived, just as he had told you Mason was waiting for you along with Ben. They both greeted you with a hug and let you know they were happy you were here and also told you that Christian had no idea about your surprise and had been moping around sad that he was spending another birthday without anyone from home coming to visit him. The three of you continued talking while getting all of your things stored away in Mason’s car. You knew the two of them needed to get back and they let you know how to get to where Mason’s family was waiting for you. Before they left, Ben handed you a small bag, when you opened it you broke out in a large smile. Inside was a Chelsea jersey with Pulisic 10 on the back. “There is something about seeing your girl with your name on her back, I’ll consider this my birthday present to him,” he said with a wink. You thanked them both again, and slipped the jersey over your head, the three of you heading back into the stadium making sure you remained unseen.
You watched the match nervously, but with so much pride for the man you had come to love more than you thought possible. Chatting away with Mason’s mother and sister both of them letting you know that you eventually get used to the fanfare around the stadium. You thanked them multiple times for their generosity and told them how much you appreciated all of Mason’s help on such short notice. Mason’s mom told you how much they adored Christian and how they hoped you being here would cheer him up.
After the match ended, you were waiting with other family members and friends. Mason and Ben entered, you made eye contact with the two of them, both giving you a knowing smile, Christian following closely behind them. He didn’t notice you quite yet as you tucked yourself in behind Mason’s parents standing alongside his sister and niece. Mason greeted his family, and they all wished Christian a happy birthday. Then, as Mason’s family stepped to the side, he saw you. His eyes widened and he froze in place, except for the radiant smile that slowly took over his face. Mason gave him a nudge and said “Are you just going to stare at her? She’s just flown across an ocean to surprise you for fuck sake.” Your eyes never left his, you stood there nervously chewing on the inside of your lip waiting for him to move, or at least speak. Finally, the realization that you were actually there, just a few feet away from him hit him and he quickly closed the gap between the two of you. He pulled you into him, enveloping you in a tight embrace and burying his face into your neck. Your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck and your hands lightly gripping into his hair. You could feel him shaking as his hands gripped you at the small of your back. “I can’t believe you are here” he murmured quietly into your ear giving you a small kiss on the neck. You pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes again, “Happy Birthday, Christian” you said. He smiled at you and felt you gently pull his face closer to yours, the two of you lost in your own little world as he placed a gentle but loving kiss to your lips. It wasn’t a kiss filled with passion, but full of tenderness and pure happiness that you were no longer thousands of miles away from one another.
It was only when you heard one of the boys let out a little whistle that the two of you snapped out of your bubble and pulled apart, resting your foreheads together, Christian gave you a small peck on the nose before turning to face the others while pulling you into his side. “So, I take it you’ve all met, y/n?” letting out a small laugh. “Which one of them helped you with this?” he said gesturing towards Mason and Ben. Both of them were grinning at the two of you and you noticed Ben putting his phone back into his pocket with a smirk. Mason revealed that he had helped with the tickets and making arrangements for his family to keep you company, and Ben let him know that he could thank him for the jersey you were wearing. At that, Christian’s attention snapped back to you, taking a step away from you and turning his back to the others and motioning for you to give him a little spin. You turned around slowly, pulling your hair to the side so that he could get a good look at your back with his name splayed across it. You glanced back over your shoulder to notice him staring, eyes a bit darker than before and slightly biting on his lower lip. As you turned fully back around to him, the way he was looking at you caused heat to flood your underwear leaving you dripping. Your cheeks blushed slightly and he let out a little cough to clear his mind of the thoughts he was having, once again pulling you back into his side.
“Some of the boys have reserved us a table at a club not far from here to celebrate my birthday” he told you , “but we don’t have to go, you must be exhausted, they will understand.” You reassured him that yes, you were a little tired, but that you did not want to interrupt the plans already in place and you were happy to go along with the group as long as they didn’t mind having you there. A little while later, you found yourself in the carpark with Christian and Mason moving your luggage from one car to the other. Christian still saying that he couldn’t believe you were actually here.
Mason left you both saying he would meet you at the club in a bit. You turned to ask Christian about changing clothes quickly to find him standing with his chest pressed against yours as he pinned you against the side of the car. His lips attached to your neck causing you to let out a breathy moan as he said he was really enjoying seeing you with his name across your back and wouldn’t mind if you just stayed like that the rest of the night. Your hands found their way to the back of his hair as he kissed along your jaw finally crashing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. This kiss was completely the opposite of the sweet and affectionate kiss you had shared just a little while earlier. This kiss was needy, lustful, and full of the pent up desire from the past couple of months. When he pulled away from you, both of you being out of breath, he spun you so that your back was against his chest, he said “maybe you should change, I’m not going to be able to control myself around my friends thinking about the things I want to do to you in this jersey.” Him pushing you further against car so that you could feel his hard bulge pressing into you. You bit your lip coyly, and backed your hips into him more, earning a slight groan from him as he brought his hand up to your neck. “Baby, there is really nothing I want to do more than fuck you senseless over the hood of this car, but for now, we need to go meet the others,” his teeth gently grazing your ear as he drops his head to place one more kiss to your neck giving you a gentle slap on the ass while telling you to hop in the back seat and change quickly. He stood guard while you changed, giving himself a minute to calm down his racing thoughts.
When you hopped out of the car in your short black dress and heels, his eyes widened again. “How the fuck to you look that good after being awake for nearly 24 hours?” he said giving you a kiss on the cheek while grabbing a handful of your ass. You swatted his hand away saying “I changed out of your jersey so that you would behave, and now, two seconds later you’re grabbing my ass” you tutted. He groaned “but baby, it’s been nearly two months, I can’t help it, can we just cancel with the boys and go home?” as he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him. “Let’s go out for just a little bit, celebrate your birthday with your friends” you said with a kiss to his cheek, “we won’t stay too long though, I have some more surprises for you when we get home” you whispered into his ear placing a slow and sensual kiss to his neck. You pulled back enough to watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed dryly. “You are killing me” he murmured, but grabbed your hand “come on, the faster we get there, the faster we can leave, and go home, and find out what these surprises you keep teasing me with are ”. You giggled and told him it would be worth the wait with a wink. “Not helping, y/n, not helping at all,” he groaned while having to adjust himself once again.
*****
The two of you arrived at the club to find a few of the guys and some of their girlfriends at a table in the VIP section. The boys couldn’t drink much since they were now in season, so you all really just chatted, sang and danced along with the music while slowly sipping on a few drinks. Christian was enjoying having you with him and never left your side. He spent the evening with his arm draped around your shoulder, hand on your thigh, waist, or the small of your back or pulling you into his lap so that he could rest his chin against your shoulder. He was addicted to touching you, wanting to soak in every moment of being in your presence. You had relaxed easily into his company and being with his friends, working your way effortlessly into another area of his life. As one of your favorite songs came on, you stood up from the table and pulled Christian out onto the dance floor. The two of you danced and laughed and sang along to the music with him pulling you closer and closer to him. As the song changed over to something a bit more sensual you turned your back to him and began grinding your bum into him while he gripped tightly at your hips. You heard a few cat calls and whistles coming from your table as you turned around to place your arms around Christian’s neck pulling him down closer to you, hearing him ask if you were ready to leave yet to which you bit your lip teasingly and gave him a small nod.
You made your way back over to your table and Christian told everyone you were calling it a night, unconvincingly letting them know that you were tired from your day of travel. You were certain that none of them believed that you were actually going home to sleep especially when Mason piped up telling you “take it easy on him...on second thought, no, don’t take it easy on him” with a grin. Ben adding “tomorrow is a recovery day, he’s absolutely showing up with sore legs.” Christian gave them both a warning look, but you just laughed off their comments. As you both made it back to his car, a notification came through on both of your phones. It was from Ben, with a message saying “Night Lovebirds” and the video he managed to take of you surprising Christian. Your eyes teared up at the kindness his friends had shown you already and Christian commented that the video might keep him from killing Chilly tomorrow over his previous remarks in the club.
*****
As you arrived at Christian’s house, your nerves once again kicked in. It wasn’t like you and Christian hadn’t ever stayed the night with one another or slept together, but this felt different somehow. He noticed your mood had changed as he helped you take your belongings inside, showing you around his house a bit. “Hey” he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you into him, your head resting against his chest as his hands found their way to the small of your back. “What’s going on, are you ok?”...”yeah, I’m good” you replied giving him a small smile and a kiss on the cheek. “Something’s up, I can tell...baby, it’s just me, what’s wrong?”...you answered letting him know that you were feeling a bit overwhelmed with the whirlwind of the past 24 hours but that you were so happy to be here with him that you just wanted to make him happy as well. Christian grabbed you by the hand and led you to his couch where he sat down and got comfortable before pulling you onto his lap and cupping his hand around your jaw so that he could turn your face to look him in the eyes. “Y/N, I am beyond happy that you are here, I’m thrilled, ecstatic, horny” he said with a wink, earning him a chuckle from you, “please don’t doubt me now, I’ve been dreaming of the day when you were here with me, I actually can’t believe you are here and this all seems like a dream still.”...”I’m here” you whispered giving him a meaningful kiss on the lips. “And I have birthday presents for you” you said with a wink as you hopped off his lap.
You gathered up the package that had been delivered earlier and went to grab Christian a beer and you a glass of wine before settling back down on the couch with him as a you relaxed a bit more. The first thing he opened was a new bottle of his favorite cologne that he had mentioned nearly being out of. Next was a hoodie that you knew would be something he would love and you would probably steal from him at some point. He also opened a pair of tickets that you had gotten him for an event in London that he had mentioned wanting to check out. You explained that your original plan was to send him and one of his friends, but since you were here, you hoped you could go together instead. He smiled and thanked you for everything giving you a gentle kiss on the lips reminding you that you surprising him was the best gift he could’ve gotten today.
Next you told him you had something to show him on your phone. You had planned on just sending it to him, but since you were here, you were glad you could watch it with him and see his reaction. He repositioned himself sitting up on the couch a bit more, so that you could sit between his legs with your back to his chest. He rested his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist as you pressed play. The video on the screen was one you had spent weeks putting together, after contacting people from all the different areas in his life. Across the screen played a series of snippets of his family, friends, coaches, teammates from the US and Chelsea, and a few former teammates, all wishing him a Happy Birthday and sharing other quick messages. As he watched, the video playing on the phone in your hands, you would feel him squeeze your waist in and appreciative hug, or chuckle lightly and press a kiss to your cheek or jaw. At the end, was a message from you. You started with your back to the camera so that he could see you were wearing the US jersey he had given you after his last round of matches in the States. When he saw you on the screen, he let out a faint groan and you felt him adjust slightly behind you pressing a kiss to your neck. On the screen turned around to face the camera saying “Happy Birthday, baby. I’m sorry I can’t be there with you, but I miss you and I love you and I will see you soon!” blowing him a kiss as the video ended. You turned your head slightly to see his reaction, noticing the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. You placed a gentle kiss to his cheek and whispered, “I might have lied a bit in that last part, but when I filmed it, I didn’t have this trip planned”...”I do love you, and I’m glad I booked that flight last night.” He pulled you around to face him so that you were now straddling him. “This has been the best birthday I’ve ever had, y/n, and it’s all because of you. I love you so much, I can’t believe you’ve done all of this for me,” he said before placing another loving kiss on your lips.
You pulled away from the kiss resting your forehead against his and let him know you still had one more present for him. You stood up smoothed out the dress you were still wearing, and pulled Christian to his feet. “Are we going somewhere else for this present?” he asked. You nodded slowly and bit your bottom lip, looking up into those gorgeous brown eyes. “Upstairs” you whispered “to bed”. And with that Christian hit you with a kiss unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. He gripped the back of your thighs subtly encouraging you to jump a bit as he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his torso. He continued to kiss you as he made his way to the stairs. Once upstairs he nudged his bedroom door open with his foot and carried you into his room, turning so that your back was against the door when he pushed it shut. You lowered your legs from his waist and placed your hands on his chest to gently push him towards the bed all while never breaking the kiss you were sharing. When his knees hit the edge of the bed, you tugged at the bottom of his shirt letting him know you wanted him to remove it. He pulled it up and over his head immediately crashing his lips back to yours and turned you both around slightly. He then lowered himself slowly, kissing along your jaw, neck and down your chest. When his hands found the bottom of your dress he pulled the material up and around your waist and growled for you to take it off.
As you pulled your dress up and over your head, Christian stood up and took a step backwards so that he could admire you. standing there in a matching black lace lingerie set “Fuck” he whispered, “is this my last present?”...”well, yes” you replied, “this, and everything you want to do to me after taking it off.” “Wait, have you had this on all night?” he asked, you nodded in response giving him your most innocent smile. “If I would’ve known that we would have been home hours ago,” he answered with a groan. You lowered yourself to your knees in front of him, removing his pants and boxers in one swift movement and encouraging him to step out of them. As his dick sprang free from his boxers, your mouth watered at the sight of him. He wrapped his hand around his shaft giving himself a couple of pumps as he kicked his remaining clothes over to the growing pile of discarded items. You settled yourself onto the bed moving up towards the headboard with Christian following you closely. He slotted himself between your legs, holding the weight of his upper body on his hands as he hovered above you.
“I’ve missed having this necklace in my face” you murmured as you hooked your finger around it using the chain to pull him closer to you. Christian moaned into your mouth as he tangled his tongue with yours before once again lowering himself to kiss along your neck and chest. He licked a stripe between your breasts and reached behind you to unhook your bra with one motion. You quickly pulled your arms out from the straps and threw the lacy material across the room, your breasts bouncing free. Christian swiftly took advantage flicking your left nipple with his tongue while rolling the right between his thumb and forefinger. Your back arched off of the bed while you let out a moan. “Shit Christian, I’ve missed that mouth of yours”. He then switched to suck on your right nipple lightly while gripping at your left breast with his hand. Slightly grazing his teeth over your nipple as he then moved his attention further down your body. “Christian, this is your birthday, tonight is supposed to be about you” you panted, already embarrassingly aroused.
“Oh, this is definitely for me” he said has he pulled your lace thong down your legs and tossed it onto the floor. Returning to his previous position, he dropped a pool of his spit down onto your pussy before moving himself lower and wrapping his arms around your thighs so that he could tug your legs open wider. He began by placing a few teasing kisses along the insides of your thighs, but never really getting close to the place you wanted him most. You tugged on his hair causing him to look up at you, “stop teasing, Christian, please”...”It’s my birthday, I’ll tease if I want to” was his reply...”baby, I need you, please, Christian”. Satisfied with the small amount of begging he had gotten you to do, he bumped his nose on your clit before licking from your entrance along each fold in one long stroke before returning to your entrance again and repeating his actions slowly devouring you. When he pressed a kiss over your clit giving it a little flick with his tongue, you let out a gasp. “That’s it baby, I want to hear you, god, I’ve missed hearing you moan for me.”
Christian continued to flick over your clit with his tongue, enjoying the sounds he was getting to fall from your lips, slipping two fingers into you and pulsing them perfectly against that sweet spot inside of you. Within minutes your legs were beginning to tremble and you knew an orgasm was quickly approaching. “Fuck, Christian, keep going, just like that, please, I’m gonna cum” you panted, “come on then baby, cum for me” and with his words you felt your orgasm washing over you, a trail of expletives leaving your mouth, your back arching off the bed, Christian pulling your legs open as you threatened to clamp them around his head. He slowed his movements slightly but continued to help you ride through your orgasm until he was satisfied with the results of his efforts. Slowly placing wet and sloppy kisses along your thighs as you felt the slightly damp stubble from his beard rubbing against you. You reached down for his hand and gave it a gently pull letting him know you wanted him to move up your body. He continued kissing his way up to your face, finally brushing his lips against yours and forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned into his mouth before reaching down between your bodies and wrapping your hand around his cock and leisurely jerking him off. Christian pulled one of your legs up high around his waist, while holding himself up with one arm, he lined his tip up with your entrance, rubbing it along from your entrance up to your clit and back down again several times until you became frustrated and pulled him closer using the leg of yours he had hitched around his waist for leverage.
He tutted at your neediness and said “you want this dick that bad, baby” to which you only nodded your head and crashed your lips against his deepening the kiss by swirling your tongue around his and moaning into his mouth. With that, he fully thrusted into you, gripping onto your hip and burying his face into your neck. “Fuck, shit, oh my god, fuck, you feel good babe” he rambled in your ear, giving you a minute to adjust to him before he slowly started thrusting into you while watching his dick disappear into your pussy over and over again. Christian had one of your hands intertwined with his hand and pressed into the bed close to your face. He moved his other hand from your hip and reached to grab the hand that you were gripping onto his bicep with. He swirled his tongue around your fingers coating them with his spit before taking your hand and slipping it between your bodies.
You picked up on what he was wanting you to do when he grunted “not going to last long this time baby, I’ve missed you too much, but I want you to cum again, with me this time.” You gave him a knowing kiss and found your clit, circling over it feeling yourself clench around Christian. He changed position slightly giving himself a better view of you pleasuring yourself for him, but the new angle had him pounding into you deeper and he wasn’t sure where to look, you playing with yourself, his dick gliding into you, your tits bouncing, your head thrown back in pleasure as you chanted his name. You knew he was getting close as his hips began to falter and his thrusts became lazy, and you were dangerously close to tipping yourself over the edge of your second orgasm. When Christian gave you a couple of harsh thrusts that hit perfectly against your g-spot, you came hard with a loud cry of his name, squeezing the hand he was still holding, moving your other hand from your clit to grip onto his shoulder. As you clenched around Christian he came undone as well, dropping a line of curse words and gripping onto your hip to hold you tightly against him as he buried himself as deep within you as he could.
When you came down from the immediate highs of your orgasms he lowered your leg from his waist, pressing his forehead against your own as he gently tucked your hair behind your ear and gave you a loving kiss while you brought your hand up to caress his face. He collapsed onto you a few moments later with his head on your chest, both still breathing heavily and bathed in a post-orgasm glow. You ran one hand through the back of Christian’s hair while the other traced the lines of the tattoos on his arm as he lazily traced shapes along your side. You stayed like that for just a while until your heartrate and breathing settled and Christian pulled out of you and rolled to his back, pulling you into his side. He kissed the top of your head and squeezed your side appreciatively before you scooted your way to his bathroom to sort yourself out.
As you returned to his room, Christian had turned to face the bathroom door so that he could see you as you came back to bed. He silently took in your appearance, raking his eyes over you from head to toe and back again. You blushed slightly under his gaze as he held the covers up for you to slip back into bed beside him. Both of you shuffled closer to one another until you were touching along the full length of your bodies. You tangled your legs with his as he pulled you in for another kiss. You bumped your nose against his whispering “Happy Birthday, Christian. I love you.” one more time. “Thank you, y/n, you have no idea how happy I am that you are here” he whispered back “I love you, too” placing a kiss on your forehead.
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24 Days of Satosugu 2023 Day 4 - Cookie
This is actually my 1000th published fic🎉🎉🎉
Satoru jumps off the couch the moment he hears Suguru come home.
“Suguru, I found some more cookies for you to try!” Satoru yells out, grabbing the prepared bag off the table and running towards the front door.
“Hello to you, too,” Suguru says mildly, bending down to take his shoes off and he doesn’t even so much as look at Satoru for an entire thirty seconds.
“You are so mean to me,” Satoru whines out, already feeling robbed of Suguru’s attention but a warm feeling settles over him when Suguru comes back up with a smile.
“Hi,” Suguru breathes out and Satoru skips closer to capture his lips in a kiss.
“Hi,” he gives back and sighs happily when Suguru cups his cheek with his hand. “I’ve missed you.”
“I was gone for two hours,” Suguru chides him but Satoru shrugs, completely unapologetic about it.
“So? I had to spend two Suguru-less hours here. That’s more than enough to miss you.”
“If I had known you were such a sap—” Suguru says, as if that would have changed anything about their relationship.
“Then you would have confessed to me anyway,” Satoru confidentially says because the fact that Satoru is such a sap, like Suguru likes to put it, and that he’s so clingy are two things Suguru loves about him, he has that on very good authority from the man himself.
“I really would have,” Suguru agrees and steals another kiss for himself. “Now, what was that about cookies?” he then asks and Satoru finally remembers the bag in his hand.
“Look, I found another type for you to try,” Satoru eagerly says and shoves the bag in Suguru’s hands.
In all honesty, it’s not as if he found them to buy somewhere—Satoru made them himself. Ever since that whole Granny cookie debacle—that luckily turned out so well for him and Suguru—Satoru has made it his priority to find a type of cookie that makes Suguru just as happy as the one Suguru always makes for him.
The only problem with that is that Satoru pretended not to be able to bake so that Suguru would always make him his cookies, and now he can’t admit to the fact that he’s not buying these, but making all of them himself.
And one of these days Suguru is going to catch him lying right to his face and Satoru doesn’t know what he’s going to do then.
“Where do you even find all these shops to buy them at?” Suguru asks and Satoru ignores the nervous churning in his gut.
One of these days.
“Trade secret,” Satoru cheekily says, winking at Suguru to distract him even as he watches him open the bag. “These are with gingerbread.”
Satoru has gone through at least ten different kinds of cookies already, and while Suguru clearly doesn’t mind any of them there hasn’t been one that he obviously loves. Satoru is running out of recipes at home and he has taken to scouring the internet for more and more complicated ones in hopes of finding anything to make Suguru smile like Satoru does whenever he tastes one of Suguru’s cookies.
“I see,” Suguru mutters as he takes one of out the bag, before he takes a bite.
He chews carefully and Satoru simply has to lean in and kiss his cheek because Suguru is always putting so much thought into his replies and he’s taking this so seriously, all for Satoru’s sake.
Satoru loves him a whole lot.
“They are good,” Suguru finally decides but Satoru can tell that they are not better than the ones he made last week.
“But?” he prompts and Suguru shrugs.
“They are—just that. Good.”
“Not amazing? Not world-altering?” Satoru suggests and Suguru snorts.
“I don’t think I have enough of a sweet-tooth to use those words when describing a cookie,” Suguru tells him and pops the rest of the cookie into Satoru’s mouth when he opens it to say something.
Satoru chews the cookie and mentally makes a note of Suguru’s words. It’s true that he doesn’t like his candies or cakes—or cookies, apparently—quite as sweet as Satoru does, so maybe that is where he’s going wrong.
Maybe he needs to make something more tart; with citrus, maybe? Or the coffee cookie Satoru found yesterday, maybe that could work. Suguru does love his coffee after all.
“What are you thinking so hard for?” Suguru asks him and flicks Satoru’s forehead, finally moving deeper into the apartment.
“Nothing, nothing,” Satoru is quick to say before he follows after Suguru, almost jumping him to hang off his back.
He loves that Suguru has never once in his life shoved him off.
“Hey, Suguru?” he asks, keeping his voice quiet, aware of how close he is to Suguru’s ear.
“What?”
“My cookies are almost empty,” Satoru sighs out and that makes Suguru freeze right in his steps.
“I made a new batch not even five days ago. Those were supposed to last you at least a week, if not two. What have you done?”
“You know I’ve been stressed with classes. I was stress-eating them.”
“You’re going to get fat,” Suguru replies even though they both know it’s not true.
Satoru’s metabolism is crazy high and if he doesn’t constantly snack he’s likely to simply dwindle away.
“Will you still love me if I do?” Satoru still asks, even though he knows the answer.
Suguru will always love him, just like Satoru will always love Suguru.
“Of course I will,” Suguru immediately gives back and there is no hesitation at all in his answer.
“Then, will you bake me new ones?” Satoru asks again, even though he knows the answer to this as well.
“Yes, I will bake you more. I have to check if we have all the things at home, though, I might have to run to the store first.”
“We have everything, I checked,” Satoru innocently says, because he made sure that they do.
“I really don’t understand why you haven’t made them yourself yet,” Suguru sighs out and Satoru forces himself to not tense up.
The truth is, he did try to make them, once, while Suguru was out. Satoru has watched Suguru make them more than once already, and he also followed the recipe to a t, but they still didn’t taste as good as when Suguru makes them for him.
Satoru wasn’t lying when he said his cookies even beat Granny’s.
“I can’t, you know I can’t,” Satoru lies straight through his teeth. “I’m a lost cause when it comes to baking.”
He even resorts to pouting at Suguru, all in an attempt to throw him off, so that Suguru doesn’t think too hard about this.
Satoru can’t have him find out that he’s very much not shit at baking before he found a type of cookie that Suguru loves.
“You’re a lost cause, period,” Suguru teases him, and now Satoru’s pout turns real.
“You’re so mean to me, why are you so mean to me, I even brought you cookies!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Suguru tries to placate him and even pats his head. “Thank you for the cookies.”
“But don’t bring them again?” Satoru asks, just to be on the safe side with this.
“But maybe don’t bring them again,” Suguru agrees and Satoru nods.
Another recipe that’s a failure.
He really has to step up his game.
~*~*~
Satoru found a promising recipe for citrus cookies and if Suguru still doesn’t like these then that only leaves Satoru with coffee cookies.
The smell of these citrus cookies is definitely not sweet enough for Satoru, though, so maybe he’s on to something here, he thinks. If he doesn’t find them sweet enough then surely they must be perfect for Suguru.
Satoru checks the clock again. Suguru is still out for another two hours at least, and Satoru already has the pan in the oven. The cookies are done in ten minutes, so he’ll have enough time to air the apartment out and clean up after himself so that Suguru doesn’t catch up to what he’s been doing all this time.
The thought hasn’t even left his mind yet when Satoru hears the front door.
“Fuck, no,” he hisses, but he doesn’t actually know what to do.
It’s not as if he can hide the fact that there are cookies currently baking in the oven from Suguru.
“Satoru?” Suguru calls out. “What smells so good?”
Satoru opens his mouth but he doesn’t actually know what to say and so he’s still opening and closing his mouth like a useless fish by the time Suguru finds him in the kitchen.
He freezes in the doorway, his eyes darting from Satoru to the oven to the battlefield on the counter and back to Satoru.
“What is going on here?” Suguru asks, his voice deceptively calm and Satoru just knows that he’s going to explode any second now.
“Nothing?” Satoru tries and Suguru gives him the flattest look Satoru has ever received.
Satoru deflates.
“I’m baking.”
“I thought you said you can’t bake. I very distinctly remember you saying that you can’t bake. So would you please explain this to me?”
“I lied,” Satoru admits and then jumps in surprise when the timer goes off. “One moment,” he rushes out, whirling around to take the cookies out of the oven.
He might be in the middle of a fight with Suguru but that is still not a reason to let perfectly good cookies go to waste.
“Why would you lie about something like that?” Suguru asks, and he’s a lot closer now, Satoru can tell by his voice. “They really do smell amazing.”
“Thank you,” Satoru gives back and then faces Suguru again. “Listen, I just—”
“All those cookies you ‘bought’ for me,” Suguru says and Satoru can perfectly well hear the quotation marks around the word bought, “were not bought at all.”
“No,” Satoru admits.
“You made them. All of them.”
“Yes.” There’s no use in lying anymore.
“Why?” Suguru simply asks and Satoru shrugs.
“I wanted to make you just as happy as your cookies make me,” Satoru admits. “But I can’t figure out your taste, though maybe these ones will do the trick.”
“No, Satoru, why lie to me about being able to bake?”
Satoru sighs.
“If I told you I could bake, then you wouldn’t make my cookies for me anymore,” he dejectedly says, because he already know he’ll have to make them himself in the future.
And they won’t taste even half as good as Suguru’s.
“You dummy,” Suguru softly says and pulls Satoru in a kiss. “I make them for you because I love you and because you said they taste better because my love is stored in them. I would never leave you to always make those cookies yourself.”
“But—you asked me before to make them,” Satoru says with a frown because he remembers that very well.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but it stresses me out to keep track of your stack of cookies. I still remember so vividly how crushed you were when you thought you’d never get to taste them and I don’t ever want you to go for even a second without them, but that means I always have to keep track of how many are left and then backing accordingly. I love doing it, and I will continue to do that, but sometimes, it would be nice to know that you can make your own if you run low.”
“That’s why you snapped at me last week,” Satoru says with dawning understanding because Suguru had been stressed as hell last week and then Satoru had told him that there are no cookies left at all. “I am so sorry,” Satoru breathes out and leans in for another kiss. “I can make my own, I promise. I’m also not going to die if I have to go for a few days without them.”
“But you will hate every second of it,” Suguru gives back. “Like I said, I’m not complaining, Satoru, not really. I will make your cookies, it’s just—”
“I’ll keep them in the kitchen in the future, so you can better see how many I have left, okay?” Satoru offers, because right now he keeps moving the tin from room to room for easier access, but of course that means Suguru has a harder time keeping track of it.
“Okay,” Suguru agrees, stealing one more kiss for himself. “Now, what about these cookies?”
“These are citrus cookies. You don’t like your things quite as sweet as I do so I thought, maybe this would work.”
“Satoru, if I had known you made all of these cookies, I would have loved every one of them.”
“I know,” Satoru sighs out, because he does. “But I don’t want that. I want to find something you like because it tastes amazing. Not because I was the one who made them.”
Suguru fondly shakes his head at that but there is a small smile playing around his mouth.
“Fine, I get it. Now, do I get to taste these, then?”
“Sure,” Satoru immediately agrees and takes one to hold it up to Suguru’s lips.
Suguru takes a careful bite out of it, ghosting his lips over Satoru’s fingers and Satoru knows immediately that he found the cookie.
Suguru’s eyes go wide in surprise before he closes them in pleasure as he carefully chews the cookie.
“These are amazing,” he then whispers out and is quick to steal the rest out of Satoru’s fingers.
“Noted,” Satoru laughs, feeling incredibly happy, because of the delight on Suguru’s face. “I’m still sorry I lied,” he then says, since he needs Suguru to know that.
“I know,” Suguru replies and threads their fingers together. “I’m not mad, Satoru. Thank you for doing this for me.”
“You shouldn’t say thank you when I lied to you,” Satoru whines out, his face going hot with how much love he can read off Suguru’s face and it only gets worse when Suguru laughs, clearly entirely happy.
“I’ll say thank you whenever I want to, and I definitely want to. Thank you, thank you, thank you, that was really sweet of you.”
“Shut up,” Satoru mutters, embarrassed by Suguru’s words, but when Suguru peppers kisses all over his face he can’t help but to laugh too. “Fine, you’re welcome,” he pants out and only then does Suguru relent.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“I know, I could taste it in your cookie,” Suguru cheekily replies and then steals another one for himself.
As if Satoru isn’t going to give him all the cookies—and all the love—in the world.
#bt writes#24 days of satosugu 2023#satosugu#jjk#established relationship#fluff#baking#cookies#no curses
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who else ready to YAP! hihi i go by a ton of aliases and forgot which one i applied with my bad but im mika and im here with jangmi, a brand new muse that i cant wait to develop with u all :D just drop a like and i'll send u a dm to get plotting :3 (my about section for her is coming soon..a lil busy atm T^T)
just some ooc info before i go on a massive ramble about her, im currently a full time student dealing with end of semester assignment rush and exams so excuse me if replies are sporadic..if i ever take over 24 hours please just bump me or something...
im also really new to tumblr so..excuse any mistakes :3
sry 4 this i wrote it out n im too lazy to proofread
BACKGROUND
lee jangmi, born 3003 to a middle class family, being her parent's little girl who got spoiled beyond belief. the amount of stress her parents went through to have her made them treasure her greatly, always making sure she was always happy.
family life was good! family life was happy! until both her parents lost their jobs due to sizing down, leaving the family with a complete lack of income. her father found a job rather quickly but it paid significantly less than what they originally had and they were still relying on one income so things were a bit tight. jangmi was blissfully unaware of this fact at the bright young age of one, her parents always putting on their happiest faces to their daughter and still going out of their way to give her a wonderful childhood. with the help of her maternal grandmother, jangmi was raised in the most loving household a girl could ask for.
however, this lack of money was catching up as her mother fell behind in terms of systems, her father needing added packages and upgrades to work but not being able to afford any for his wife. this meant that her family had fallen to a socioeconomic status that terrascape paid less care to. one day jangmi's mother dropped her off at her grandmother's so that she could spend the day trying to find a job, as she had been doing for around three years at this point. that night, her mother never picked her up and her father called up, wondering if she was with jangmi.
she was not.
after a week or so, jangmi's father had accepted that his wife was gone. unable to deal with life without the woman he loved and a daughter that was constantly distressed with the lack of her mother, he gave jangmi to her grandmother and disconnected from terra to search for his wife, knowing she might've left him but she would've never left jangmi.
so from the age of four, jangmi was raised by her grandparents and their elderly neighbours and they raised her just as she was used to, loving and a little bit spoiled. being raised in such a good for environment, the girl is quite unaware of the bad side of the world; she thinks that terra truly is paradise where everyone is always happy and thriving, simply because that's how she and the people she's aurrounded herself with have done in life.
well, she tries to think that way at least. having her parents leave with the only explaination of 'they went on an adventure!' even at the age of 20 has her craving to know more, has her wanting to figure out what happened with her parents. once she hit her teens and started actively staying awake at night, she discovered a glitch in which the entire server just frozen in time? she's never actively done anything during this hour as the idea of fucking up something scares her greatly but, she's always blamed that glitch on the reason why her parents are gone.
for now she prefers living in ignorant bliss, treating terra the way that terrascape wants her to, as a modern day garden of eden which, it kind of is considring how lucky she's been in life. maybe her ignorance is just to avoid losing her lifestyle of living upper middle class, knowing the place is a lot darker than she puts on. even after bae gyuok, she chooses to ignore this massive event, acting as if nothing has happened in the first place. (although, in her own time she's trying to figure things out but, she isn't getting very far)
PERSONALITY
she's soft spoken and gentle, often just going along with the crowd and trying her best to fit in as she would rather die than ever be seen as different. she puts herself out as confident yet not cocky, extroverted but not loud; a perfect personality that will have people love her, just as she's always been loved by those around her. though her gentle nature and willingness to go along with people is natural, she's hardly the social creature she seems to be, preferring a night in with her grandparents and their dog watching old movies. she lacks her own perception of self as a consequence for trying so hard to fit in and she sometimes gets jealous of others who are more willing to be themselves, arguing with people who disagree with her out of sadness, not anger. she can let herself get carried away when spurred on and can be quite reactive at times, a reason why she surrounds herself with people so similar to her; she can keep her image.
WANTED CONNECTIONS
u see i kinda suck at these? i like coming up with plots with specific characters in mind BUTT!! here's some vague ideas.
friends, ex-crushes, aquaintances, neighbours, all that stuff. maybe someone who she finally expresses her worries to? like late night talks about terra and how theyre realising the system seems a lil..Off..
IDK! im okay with anything :D just (as i said before) give this a like or send a dm to me first if ur in the mood to plot with her! i can use dc if it's easier :3
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Mass Shootings in Lewiston, ME
Hi all, I just wanted to pop on & say a few things about the recent tragedies unfolding in Maine. This post was not made with the intent of polarization. But as many of you know, I'm a writer. And as I remain locked down, helpless while businesses and schools close, helicopters fly over my apartment and cop cars surround my community, writing this felt like the only reasonable outlet for me. Normally, I would keep something like this private. But coming together right now felt important, and this blog has historically been a place where I have been able to receive some engagement. I realize that this is not my usual content, but I write this with hopes that it will reach at least a few of you grappling with the same grief and loss that I feel and elicit some sort of connection in such dark times.
*Trigger warning for mentions of gun violence, mass shootings, and death*
I've lived in Maine my entire life. This state, it's people, & everything associated with it has been my home & heart for nearly 27 years. The entire state has a population of 1.3 million people. That's 1.4 less than the city of Chicago, 2.5 million less than Los Angeles, and 7.2 million less than New York City. Lewiston is the second largest city in Maine with a population of 35,000 people. For some perspective, Gillette stadium in Foxborough, MA can hold nearly 66,000 people, and SoFi stadium in Los Angeles can hold about 70,000.
My point with all the statistics is that Maine is small. Our communities are tight knit, and I truly mean it when I say that everybody knows everybody.
And last night, a man walked into Schemengees Bar and Grille and the Just-In-Time Recreation bowling alley in Lewiston, Maine and opened fire with an automatic rifle, killing 18 people and injuring 13 others. The impact of this tragedy will extend across the state- and probably all of New England.
And as the manhunt for the mass shooting suspect unfolds around me, I have many emotions flowing through my body. I am terrified, I am angry, I am grieving. I am frustrated, confused, and sad. I am disgusted, I am stressed, I am worried. But mostly, I am heartbroken; heartbroken for the community I love. Heartbroken for the victims and lives that were lost last night. Heartbroken for humanity.
I have been absolutely appalled to watch the act of violence committed in Lewiston last night unfold in front of me for the last 24 hours. I grew up in Turner, a small town neighboring Lewiston/Auburn and have many friends and family members still living in the area. I struggle stating this because my intent is not to make this tragedy about me. Because it is certainly not. But I'm writing this from my perspective as someone who was indirectly impacted, and I feel like it's important to remind everyone that gun violence and hate does not discriminate.
For the entire year of 2022, Maine had 29 reported homicides. It is statistically one of the (if not the) safest states in the country (to the point where I don't even lock my door most nights). Maine has always had this aura of innocence. Despite the state of the world and the way gun violence has been steadily increasing for my entire life, I have always found some solace and comfort in the fact that I live in Maine. Because despite the sorrow and grief I felt when I learned of Sandy Hook, Route 91, Virginia Tech, Pulse night club, Uvalde, Sutherland Springs, El Paso (you get the point), I could move forward and live my life. Because as awful as those shootings were, things like that didn't happen in Maine.
Until, of course, they do.
In a single evening, in a span of 24 hours, one man has completely ripped away that layer of safety from me and everyone else I know and love. Because a mass shooting did happen here. And it can happen anywhere.
I could write about how it's easier to buy a gun than Sudafed in Maine. I could write about how I feel about politicians who support the NRA with corrupt intentions despite how many lives have been lost to gun violence in America. I could also write about how Maine has high gun ownership, but extremely low firearm death rates, which makes me wonder if maybe our focus to blame is a bit off. I could write about how no matter what the crime rates in a state are, no one should have access to an AR.
But the truth is, I'm tired. I'm tired of pretending like these are new conversations. I'm tired of having the same debates every time this happens. Liberals vs. Conservatives, Republicans vs. Democrats, the second amendment vs. gun control. I'm tired of conversations about the mental health crisis- about politicians blaming gun violence on symptoms of mental health but then proceeding to vote against policies that would increase access and funding to mental health programing. I'm tired, tired, tired.
And 18 people are dead.
18 people whose lives mattered and deserved to be lived.
18 people who were parents and siblings and children.
18 people who were friends and coworkers.
18 people who were human beings.
And in addition to those 18 lives lost, there are even more injured. Some physically- even more emotionally. A little girl grazed by a bullet was brave enough to go on national TV and ask why? Why do people do this?
Why, indeed? In times of tragedy, our brains crave answers. Why did this happen? Who let this happen? Were there warning signs? The answer is almost always yes. And in this case, based on current reports, it sounds like in addition to active mental health symptoms, direct threats had been made by the suspect in the past about intent to harm. That makes it easy to point fingers. How did his family miss this? Why didn't mental health professionals act? Why was he released from the hospital if he was thought to be dangerous?
But the tragic truth is that this is so much deeper than those questions pose. And as much as our brains and hearts crave answers, playing the blame game will do nothing for us.
Stricter gun laws and removing access to AR-15s is a good start that I fully support. So go ahead and sign the petitions, write to your representatives. I certainly have, and will continue to do so. But don't be surprised if that only places a band-aid over the gaping, hemorrhaging wound that is humanity in America right now.
The truth is, I don't know what the answers are. Is it eliminating access to AR-15s? Monitoring who can buy and own weapons based on stricter background checks? Is it increasing access to mental health services? Increasing incentives for people to become mental health providers? Is this all just the unfolding, unstoppable result of human suffering and toxic stress in America?
What I do know is that my community, my home, has experienced the nation's tenth worst mass shooting in modern history. Lewiston, Maine and the lives lost last night are more than just another tragic story of gun violence in America. It's more than the 565th mass shooting in America this year, to be followed by a 566th and 567th. It's more than just a statistic. Right now the news is buzzing. People are talking, stories are being shared. But a few weeks from now, that will inevitably die down.
Lives will go on, because it didn't happen to you. It will never happen to you.
Until, of course, it does.
So please take care of yourselves, take care of your loved ones, take care of your friends and neighbors and acquaintances. And most importantly, have empathy and compassion for all.
#i know this is not my usual but i really needed a place to share and express#thoughts are welcomed but any sort of criticism about the investigation is not#gun violence#tw mass shooting#lewiston maine#tw mass murder#tw gun violence#lewiston#lewiston me#mass shooting#Lewiston shooting
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how did the thermidorians exactly start their plan and gather supporters to their cause and finish the plan successfully?
Bonus questions: I always wondered that during the period of robespierre's fall did the thermidorians tried something like winning friends of robespierre like le-bas couthon saint-just or the people who sided with robespierre etc. to their side?
Only If you want you can share the answer as a special post in 9 thermidor because it is close (after two weeks maybe) so yeah .. do whatever you please.
That is actually a bit more fuzzy than might first be expected. Important to remember is that, while a conspiracy to undermine Robespierre may have already existed beforehand, what actually played out on 9 thermidor was not the result of a longgoing plan as much as something cooked up at the last minute, in response to the unexpected speech Robespierre had held the day before. It is unlikely a coup would have taken place when it did had said speech not existed. Laurent Lecointre even admitted shortly after thermidor that:
Even though [Robespierre’s] death wasn’t the result of any combined plan, it nevertheless avanged the national representation, that has proven, through its courage, that it feared the tyrant less than it did the danger of striking him without success.
Lecointre wrote this in the pampleth Conjuration formée dès le 5 préréal [sic] par neuf représentants du peuple contre Maximilien Robespierre, pour le poignarder en plein senat (1794). From it, we learn what he (along with Fréron, Barras , Courtois , Garnier de l’Aube, Rovère, Thirion, Tallien and Guffroy, who co-signed the pampleth) had been doing to undermine Robespierre in the weeks predating thermidor. But, as the title already suggest, their plan had actually been to stab Max to death in public, as opposed to having him arrested, outlawed and executed like how things ended up going down:
Amar and Moyse-Bayle told me, at the liberty salon, on 24 prairial (June 12) in the presence of our collegue Mallarmé and the people who heard us, that the decree of 22 prairial was the work of [Robespierre] alone, that the committees had had nothing to do with it. After having told them that the committees had therefore not fulfilled their duty, I proposed to them that I myself denounce to the Convention such an extraordinary fact. They stopped me by reminding me of the political considerations which then governed the Convention, the fear of an early and unsuccessful split. I replied: ”You know me. I did not strike down a tyrant just to gain another.”Since that time, our hate was public. On 6 thermidor I asked Robert-Lindet on his opinion of a monster who had plunged the republic into such a deplorable state of debasement and servitude. On the 7th, I spoke to Vadier about the furies of a tyranny whose progress we would perhaps no longer be able to stop. To me, they all appeared convinced that we still had to wait, and that the favorable moment was perhaps not far off. At that time, the indictment that I was preparing against the traitor and his accomplices had been completed; Fréron who helped me with his insights, Barras, Rovère, Thirion, Courtois, Garnier de l'Aube, Guffroy and Tallien etc advised me to attack him in person, so that success would be more certain. The roles were divided to support my opinion, and to combat with force the sophisms of Robespierre, but they were of the opinion that the memoir should be printed and distributed an hour before being read at the National Convention: Guffroy was in charge and had promised, from the 6th, to have it printed; and it was solemnly sworn by us that if the truth succumbed, we would immolate the tyrant in the middle of the Convention. Happier events preceded the execution of a project whose success was inevitable, but whose consequences could have disturbed the public peace. The monster is dead, he has, by his imprudence and his delirium, revealed all the villainy of his plots and his liberticidal projects; but his fall would perhaps have compromised the freedom of the citizens less, if my advice had been followed.
Fouché, who several contemporaries pointed to as the leader of/important for the conspiracy wrote the following about his role it in his memoirs:
I did not trifle in contending for my head, nor in long and secret deliberations with such of my colleagues as were threatened with my own fate. I merely said to them, among others to Legendre, Tallien, Dubois de Crancé, Daunou and Chénier: "You are on the list, you are on the list as well as myself, I am certain of it!” Tallien, Barras, Bourdon de l'Oise and Dubois de Crancé evinced some energy. Tallien contended for two lives, of which one was then dearer to him than his own: he therefore resolved upon assassinating the future dictator, even in the Convention itself. But what a hazardous chance was this! Robespierre's popularity would have survived him, and we should have been immolated to his manes. I therefore dissuaded Tallien from an isolated enterprise, which would have destroyed the man, but preserved his system. Convinced that other means must be resorted to, I went straight to those who shared with Robespierre the government of terror, and whom I knew to be envious or fearful of his immense popularity. I revealed to Collot d'Herbois, to Carnot, to Billaud-Varennes, the designs of the modern Appius; and I presented to each of them separately, so lively and so true a picture of the danger of their situation, I urged them with so much address and good fortune, that I insinuated into their breasts more than mistrust, but the courage of henceforth opposing the Tyrant in any further decimating of the Convention.
"Count the votes," said I to them, "in your committee, and you will see, that when you are determined, he will be reduced to the powerless minority of a Couthon and a Saint-Just. Refuse him your votes, and compel him to stand alone by your vis inertiæ." But what contrivances, what expedients were necessary to avoid exasperating the Jacobin club, the Seides, and the partisans of Robespierre. […] My eye was on him; and seeing him reduced to a single faction, I secretly urged such of his enemies who still clung to the committee, at least to remove the artillery from Paris, who were all devoted to Robespierre and the Commune, and to deprive Henriot of his command, or at least to suspend him. The first measure I obtained, thanks to the firmness of Carnot, who alleged the necessity of sending reinforcements of artillery to the army. As to depriving Henriot of his command, that appeared too hazardous; Henriot remained, and was near losing all, or rather, to speak the truth, it was he, who on the 9th Thermidor ruined the cause of Robespierre, the triumph of which was for a short time in his power. But what could be expected from a drunken and stupid former footman.
That his enemies spread slander and fear in an attempt to undermine him was also something Robespierre himself seemed aware of:
Since a long time back, men who call themselves representatives of the people, and whom I do not regard as such, at least as a man, because I believe that one must have a soul to be a representative of the people; a certain species of men, I say, deploy all their strength, all their means, all the energy, to throw poison into the pure soul of a part of the members of the Convention. They seek to bring together, at suppers, at dinners unworthy of republicans, pure men, men whom we would embrace as brothers, and who know neither these meals nor the guests. There, the object of the conversation, heated by circumstances, is slander against you, against those who are regarded as true patriots, against the Committees of Public Safety and General Security. […] Learn then that there is a league of corrupt men who try to make believe that the Committee of Public Safety wishes to attack the members of the Convention in general, and the estimable members in particular. We have this confession from some of our colleagues themselves, who do not sleep at home, struck with the terrors which these scoundrels have inspired in them. […] Currently we are in the same position, without having even had the intention of prosecuting any culprit. No, the Committee of Public Safety has not drawn up a new indictment against anyone; but men who call themselves representatives of the people, and who are not, I swear by virtue, embitter against you estimable deputies, colleagues whom we regard as good citizens. Take care, they tell them, there is a new indictment drawn up against certain members, you will be included... Certainly you will be included. The infamous add adroit circumstances to these perfidious reports; and we believe them. We have, I repeat it again, the details of these criminal artifices of the deputies whom the Committee ranks among the best citizens, and who no longer dare to live in their houses.
Robespierre on June 27 1794
Of course, these claims just revolve around the conspirators gaining the trust of other Convention deputies. When it comes to getting broader public on their side I had a harder time finding any sources. The only thing related to this that I know of is the theory that the multiplied amount of executions in the weeks before Robespierre’s fall was actually the result of a sabotage by his enemies who through it aimed to paint him like a bloodthirsty tyrant to make him lose the public’s approval, but, like I already wrote in this post, I haven’t yet got a hang on what sources that idea is actually based on (besides the fact that Robespierre himself claims that’s how it is in his 8 thermidor spech).
Once Robespierre, Saint-Just, Couthon, Lebas and Augustin had actually gotten arrested, the conspirators mainly seems to have focused on laying their hands on other robespierrists in power, the majority of which were those executed on thermidor 10, 11 and 12. Once word got around that the five deputies had escaped from their different prisons, the Convention also took the measure to outlaw them to easier get them condemned.
As for if the thermidorians sought to save any of Robespierre’s allies or win them over to their side, I only know of the story that Barère wanted Saint-Just to be left alone, though for the moment I don’t remember from where it comes (not Barère’s memoirs as far as I saw…?) It should be remembered that Augustin and Lebas actually volunteered to share their friends’ fate right after they got arrested, so who knows if they would have been left alone had they refrained from doing so… Though given the fact how big the robespierrist purge actually ended up being, I’m not that sure anyone would actually have sought to spare them, unless they themselves had gladly been willing to switch sides…
#maximilien robespierre#robespierre#thermidor#ask#laurent lecointre#joseph fouché#thermidor happened on september 3 not july 28 in case you didn’t know
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| crazy little thing |
part 1
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: this crush thing is pretty new for the two of you, so now you're going to learn how to make it work.
warning: no beta.
word count: 3.7k.
*********
you gave a ride to eddie munson and now you're kinda dating.
well, dating might be a strong word for what you actually are - or aren't - considering it's been less then 24 hours since you drove him home with the promise of giving him a ride in the morning too, as his van had been abandoned in the school's parking lot.
and, as promised, he has pestered you with questions for the whole duration of the ride - as if he had them all bottled up inside him, waiting for the perfect chance to spill out.
you had no idea eddie munson was this curious about you.
he started off small, immediately after giving you his address - as if you didn't know where your crush lived - shooting one question after the other, barely breathing in between, hungry for knowledge.
your birthday, how many siblings you have, your favourite subjects - because even if you're doing okay in maths he knows you don't like it, you don't have the same absorbed expression you get in english lit when you work with numbers - your favourite musician, oh you don't have one? then maybe he can let you borrow some of his favourite albums...
you could barely slip in your own questions, because if he's hungry then you're positively starved, but he just diverts them with a wave of his hand and a "nah, nothing interesting about me - you're the true mystery, sweetheart."
you thought your crush couldn't get any worse, but eddie was quickly proving you wrong.
he was horribly curious about the whens and hows and whys you started crushing on him, and looked totally appalled by the fact that you couldn't pinpoint the exact second it happened with scientific accuracy. and why was that so important, anyway?
"because i know when it started for me!" he blurts out, thumping dramatically against the headrest.
you almost stop the car, hating that you're having this conversation without being able to look at him.
"oh?"
"yeah", he groans, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "it's that time we sat together at the cafeteria."
"what?" your eyes widen as you calculate that mentally, trying to remember. "but... that's... before the summer?"
"mmh." his voice takes a faraway tone, as he lingers on the memory. "a week after spring break. my whole hellfire team was at home with measles - lucky for me i had it when i was a kid. anyway i was sitting all alone, playing with whatever stuff the kitchen was passing off as meat... and then- boom! you appear next to me and ask if you can sit. i mean- no one ever sits at the hellfire table, besides the hellfire club? and you usually stood clear of me, so i was understandably wary. but you thanked me really softly, sitting - not on the opposite side of the table, which was empty anyway, but next to me? like, right at my left. your legs bumped against mine under the table! and even if you kept your eyes on your tray - man, i couldn't help but watch you. think it was the first time i actually saw you up close, you know? and you were - cute. and soft. even the way you ate, calmly and silently, trying to hide the grimace because that meat really sucked... i don't know. it got to me. and- and you smelled so good!"
he sighs, feeling suddenly shy in the silence of the car. "you even said goodbye to me before leaving. you even smiled - even though it looked forced and tense, but you did. you came, ate next to me, said maybe no more than five words and left again... and i couldn't stop thinking about you. and then, in september, you ended up in my classes... man. suddenly it didn't seem that bad to repeat the year."
you have stopped the car in the middle of the road and you barely even noticed it, completely enthralled by eddie's retelling of a moment that, to be fair, you had almost forgotten - you actually forced yourself to, as you try not to remember the moments when you made a fool of yourself (because, really? sitting next to eddie munson out of nowhere, and not even talking to the guy? it was just another fail in a long list of them, and that scene had haunted you for weeks until you had managed to hypnotize your brain into erasing it from your memories). you didn't even think he would take notice of you, nor remember it months - seasons - later.
instead, eddie remembers it perfectly down to what you were eating that day. how could you compete?
"that was incredibly sweet", you murmur eventually, fragile, voice half-broken.
the noise of the rain and the wipers working tirelessly to clean the glass almost drowned your words, but eddie hears you anyway, leaning across the gear shift and resting his warm palm against your knee. he calls your name softly until you turn to look at him, blushing furiously and lashes wet from holding back tears, then he smiles.
"you have no idea how long i've waited to be sweet to you", he tells you serenely, as if that wasn't the most romantic thing you've ever heard.
you blink, a bit shaken, then sniff and start the car once again. "you really are dangerous, eddie munson", you exhale with a tremble, all your nerves focused on the sensation of his hand firmly gripping your knee.
if you hadn't personally lived through it, you would barely believe that it had been you who confessed first - anyone else would have thought the opposite after such a speech from him. your head was empty, his words repeating on a loop - your throat dry, your hands clammy. and you've talked with the guy for what, a couple of hours? god. where had he been hiding this smooth personality of his?
eddie seems content enough to let you simmer in what he said, because for a while he lets you being lulled by the rain and the low music coming from the radio. but then you clear your voice, somewhat recovered, and he starts back with his questions from where he left off.
"so, you know how to change tires?" he did ask at some point once you moved past the more sentimental stuff; he looked completely at ease, curled on the passenger seat fully turned towards you, half-sitting on his bent leg and balancing with an arm pressed against the dashboard and the other behind the headrest of your seat. it's like he didn't want to stop watching you now that he knew he wouldn't have passed off as a creep.
"eh, i just said i would have helped you do it", you point out, half-shrugging.
he snorts a laugh. "meaning?"
"well, i would have passed you the wrench or something. cheering from the sidelines, you know."
eddie gasps loudly, dramatically leaning his head against the window with a soft thud. "so it was just an excuse to talk to me? man, you're sooo adorable-"
you swear your cheeks hurt from blushing so often. "shut up or i'll drop you here."
"nah, you wouldn't leave poor old me all alone in the rain..." you can feel him smiling even without taking your eyes off the road.
and now you're driving again towards his trailer, twenty minutes before your concorded time to meet because you've been up since before the sky started to lighten, too nervous to sleep; and if what happened yesterday was just a lucid dream you made up, at least you wouldn't be late for school.
you stop next to an old car, probably his uncle's, and shut off the ignition before resting your hands and head on the wheel. should you get out and knock at his door? what if he's changed his mind? or if he was still sleeping? god, or if he thought you ridiculous for being this freaking early?
this is the first time you're dealing with a potential boyfriend, and you're both so eager and terrified that you don't know what to do with yourself.
still, you don't regret that burst of courage that made you come up to him - especially since it gave you the chance to actually learn what he thinks about you. nervousness isn't the only reason why you woke up early - you actually barely slept at all, lying wide awake on your bed mulling over everything he said, running through every interaction from when you first started to notice him 'til now, recalling the feeling of his hands holding yours - of his mouth nibbling on your fingers.
god! you didn't dream all of it, right? it actually happened?
just when your thoughts are starting to turn mushy, a sudden, brusque rapping on the glass of your window makes you jump and curse loudly, but when you turn to glare at whoever decided to scare the crap out of you this early in the morning - you deflate, surprised, seeing eddie on the other side of the door.
but then you gasp in horror and get out of the car, jumping on the gravel of the yard. "my god, eddie, it's november- what are you doing?"
the young man grins unrepentantly, naked from the waist up and wearing only black jeans and his boots - and half of his faced is caked with shaving foam, some of it dripping on his tattooed chest.
"morning, sweetheart", he greets you instead, ignoring the goosebumps forming on his skin. "i'd kiss you, but i don't wanna get you dirty."
you shake your head, stunned. "go. inside. before you catch pneumonia!" you press your hands against his shoulders and try to push him towards the trailer. "i'm not going to disappear if you take the time to get dressed!"
eddie points a finger at you, trying to look stern. "don't leave. give me ten- no! five minutes! less than five! and i'll be right back, babe, okay?"
he waits for you to nod before turning and scrambling up the ladders and back again inside his house, a tornado of a man.
you slump against your car, huffing an incredulous laughter.
- - - -
the ride to school goes almost exactly like the day before, except this time you feel a tad less embarrassed and a bit more at ease - probably also thanks to the eyeful you got of him that morning, which was a lovely way to start the day.
not that you have given him the attention he deserved, as you were much more worried for the blatant disregard of his own health to truly appreciate the way his jeans hung low on his waist, carelessly showing off the dark happy trail slithering down from his navel, or the sharp line of the hipbones, the cool ink blossoming on his pale skin in various shapes and images-
mmh. maybe you did pay attention.
come on, girl, you told him you like him yesterday, maybe give it a couple more days before showing him your lustful side? be. a. gentlewoman.
besides, if he died of pneumonia all of your fantasies would die with him, so - guess it's up to you to keep the guy alive from now on.
yet eddie was just so adorably blasè by the whole thing that you couldn't even scold him.
i just saw your car in the driveway and couldn't resist! he said as if that was reason enough to come outside half naked to greet you. was the first time a cute little lady came to pick me up.
well, what could you say to that?
it's amazing how quickly the two of you seem to have slipped into this new dynamic, so you're kinda worried that the other shoe is not far from dropping - but still, everything is so new and soft and easy that the only thing you want to do is close your eyes, relax and let eddie drag you wherever he wants.
metaphorically - he's still without a car.
as you get close to school, however, his mood seems to shift slightly and he fidgets on the seat - fingers drumming nervously against his leg.
"hey, babe-" he clears his throat, "-you should drop me off around here, i think."
you're half distracted by the music on the radio and it takes you a while to grasp his meaning, but when you do you throw him a glance from the corner of your eye - man, he does look pretty nervous.
you decide to nip that particular behaviour in the bud.
"mh, how so?" you keep on driving, carefully casual, slowing down as you enter the school parking lot even though eddie is trying to lower himself on the seat - as if anyone could miss that amazing head of his.
"babe..." he turns to you, lips pressed in a worried frown. "you know it."
your fingers tighten around the wheel. "eddie", you start, speaking calmly but firmly. "i'm not about to pretend i don't like you or that we're not going out just to protect the delicate sensibilities of the popular crowd."
you keep driving until you see his van, empty spots on both of its sides because people are dicks, and park your car right next to his. then you turn off the ignition and twist to look at him, serious.
eddie looks concerned but also somewhat endeared, so you sigh and offer him your hand - which he grasps without a second thought.
"is that what you were trying to do?" you ask him gently, squeezing his fingers.
"mmh-" he squeezes you in return, the rigid set of his shoulders softening noticeably. "i suppose- i just lost some nerve once we reached the school. it- it just..."
"felt more real all of a sudden?"
he raises his eyes to look at you, nodding grateful. "yeah. sorry."
you can't help but laugh a bit. "who's the one apologizing, now? it's okay, eddie - i get it." you inhale deeply, thinking. "so- what do you want to do?"
he replies immediately, leaning towards you and clinging on your hand for dear life. "i want to go out with you."
"okay then, rockstar." it's your turn to smack a kiss on the back of his hand, watching him beam warmly. "let's go."
you let go of his hand to slip outside the car, shouldering your bag and waiting for eddie to come out too so you can lock it. he straightens immediately, hands on his hips as he takes a look around his van only to note that yes, his tire is still completely deflated and looks even worse than yesterday.
you come up to him, patting him softly on the back. "so, what are you gonna do about that?"
"i asked wayne", he sighs, crossing his arms. "he said he'll call the workshop later this morning and have them come here to change the tire. sucks because i don't have the money to pay him back now, though."
you hum, your pats becoming slow drags of your hand in circular motions. you feel him loosen up a bit, so you continue. "it's not as if you're using the money to buy shit, eddie. i'm sure your uncle is happy to help you - just as i am to give you a ride. 'kay?"
he smiles down at you, head tilted almost shily. "yeah, i know", he murmurs.
there's suddenly something charged in the air as you two look at each other, hidden from the rest of the people crowding the parking lot by the tall form of his van; your heart seems to lodge in the back of your throat as you observe his eyes roving your face and - falling on your suddenly dry lips. instinct makes you wet them with the tip of your tongue and you don't miss the way his breath hitches, and oh my god is this really happening? his hand is grabbing the back of your coat to pull you more into him, making you inhale the sharp, alluring scent of his aftershave, and-
"eddie!"
you both jump as if electrocuted, eddie groaning when he recognizes the happy voice greeting him loudly.
you turn in time to see a couple of familiar faces sauntering your way - the new, shiny recruits of eddie's hellfire club. you recognize them mostly because one of them is nancy wheeler's brother and the other is little erica's, and by exclusion the one in a baseball cap is dustin henderson.
"your kids are here, munson", you tease him, smirking at his long suffering groan.
they surround the both of you, exchanging quick greetings - dustin is the one who first notices the ripped tire of eddie's van, and he immediately drags the older guy into an heated discussion.
lucas elbows you, still not entirely conscious of his recently gained strenght. "haven't seen you in a while, baby", he smirks, making even the young wheeler roll his eyes.
you groan just as eddie splutters, cutting short his discussion with dustin and turning towards you. "baby?"
"i babysit his sister and sometimes he's there too", you roll your eyes, amused by his over dramatic reaction. "he thinks he's cute just because he's suddenly taller than me. what have we said about that, kid?"
"that i'm a hundred years too young to call you baby", he replies dutifully, a well memorized mantra. "still can call you bee, though."
"whatever makes you feel cool, sinclair."
eddie casually drapes an arm around your shoulders, pressing you against his side in a smooth movement that makes butterflies flutter wildly inside your stomach. "behave yourself, ranger."
the younger boy blinks, perplexed, finally noticing something's unusual between the two of you. "okay, what... what's going on?"
"we've decided to go out and we're late for class, so," you push past the kids briskly, eddie right behind you clinging to your coat with his free hand, and ignore dustin's shrill "what?!"
"you didn't tell me you were also friends with the freshmen, babe", your newly appointed boyfriend pokes at you, curious. "is there anyone you're not friends with? or did you charm the whole school?"
you snort, blushing a bit. "dork. there's plenty of people i don't like. plus lucas' little sister is a friend of mine, they're in class together and have a lot of sleepovers, so i guess i've seen him around more often."
"damn", he mutters under his breath. "there's still so much i don't know about you."
"good. keeps the relationship fresh", you smirk, letting him walk you to your locker.
he doesn't look convinced, so you elbow him gently to make him look at you. "hey, we've literally just started talking. you thought i hated you until yesterday! as far as i'm concerned, it's already an enormous step to say we're dating when this is the second time we're spending time together - and we're in school, too, so that kinda doesn't count. let's take it easy, mh? you don't have to cram every kind of random infos about me all in one morning."
eddie groans, pressing his forehead against the cold metal of the locker next to yours. "it just feels like i've wasted enough time. i want us to just- jump ahead and be already one of those silly, solid cute couples without the whole slow courting and dancing around each other and wondering if the other likes you too."
you can't help but smile fondly. "but what if i told you i like the courting thing?"
"oh?" he perks up, eyebrows so high they're hidden by his curly bangs. "i knew it - you're a romantic!"
"i don't know if i'm a romantic or if i simply like the idea of you courting me", you admit, thoughtful. "we kinda already skipped a few steps with that hurried confession- maybe we should take it slow?"
he presses his hand against your stomach, gently pushing you back against your locker. your heart kinda does a somersault at that. "babe. any slower and i. will. die", he deadpans, terribly serious.
"and besides-", you swallow with some difficulty, delicately tickling his side and making him twitch. "-what couple? you haven't even kissed me yet."
eddie grabs your evil hand, brown eyes sparkling. "easily remediable, sweetheart! here, let me..."
he leans into you, eager like a puppy - but right when he closes his eyes in anticipation you press your free hand over his mouth, giggling.
"not gonna let you kiss me in the school hallway for the first time, munson," you half chide, half tease.
he whines shamelessly behind your hand, lips moving temptingly against your palm. "but baaaabeeee..."
you love how he basically hasn't called you anything but pet-names since yesterday - it kinda makes you think that he had to physically restrain himself from doing so before you went and told him about your crush.
the sharp ring of the bell interrupts your banter, and eddie throws an annoyed glance at his watch. "dammit. there's no chance to convince you to skip it, right?"
"nope", you smile at him, moving away from your locker. "you need to set a good example for your freshmen minions, babe."
"no need for that! they're already better than me. they're all tiny little geniuses, i swear."
you snort. "that doesn't exactly work in your favour?"
"but what am i supposed to do without you?" he ignores you, hugging his metal lunch box. "it's gonna be sooo boring. i have to sit next to chance lockwood and that guy smells like he showers with his daddy's cologne."
"it's only an hour, then we have maths together right after", you console him, easily ignoring the weird glances people are starting to throw your way. "besides, i can tell you something to keep you busy in the meantime."
"mmh?" his eyes sparkle, intrigued.
you stop at the feet of the staircase where your paths split up and you signal him to move closer to your height, until your lips can reach his ear.
"i lied to you yesterday", you whisper, smiling at the way his breath hitches. "i remember when i started to crush on you."
then you step back and jump on the stairs, smirking, avoiding his hand trying to make a grab for you.
"you can't drop that on me and then leave!" he complains, pouting pitifully.
your laugh haunts him for the whole time you're not by his side. "see you later, rockstar!"
********
tagging: @amatchinwater <3
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#stranger things#mine*#(guys i'm loving this little blurb. maybe i'll write more <3)
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White Light | Part III
Characters: Ghost!ATJ x Black Female!Reader
Rating: M+ (Warnings: Death, Claustrophobia, Nyctophobia, Horror Elements [Demonic Entity])
Word Count: 2.2K
Summary: Your new, dead roommate disappeared into the ether. So...now what?
a/n: This chapter is a little more creepy than previous chapters. I felt like horror comes with the territory of the not-so-dead. You know? There will probably be more horror elements in the future. SIDE NOTE: Below is a playlist of songs that give a great idea of what his band sounded like in 2003. I've also included parts 1 & 2. If you'd like to be tagged in the update, please let me know. Please like, comment, and reblog!
[Part I] | [Part II] | [Part IV] [☁ Masterpost ☁] | [♫ The Crimson Zombies Mixtape ♫]
--
It'd been about three weeks since he poofed into thin air.
Not that you were really counting.
You'd just gotten used to the idea of having a ghost in your apartment only for him to just disappear without a trace in less than 24 hours. After learning that Gavin was Aaron's former bandmate, you briefly wondered if finding out Gavin's fate was his unanswered business, and why he moved onto the other side. It was a true hardship to get over the feeling of constantly being watched, and you questioned your sanity for feeling that way. Aaron's presence--before you knew he was there, obviously--never felt threatening. You could compare it to having a very clingy cat who seemed to shadow you wherever you went. Though, he swore he never watched you in the bathroom, a fact you were thankful for.
At least he was a respectful dead guy, given the circumstances.
You decided that it'd be best to move on and mark this as just one very strange initial experience in your new home. To stave off the loneliness, you decided to invite over your best friend, Kayla, for a sleepover. Between the drinking, the dancing, the movies, and the junk food, you were able to forget about the last few weeks only for a moment.
"Have you ever considered dating, again?" Kayla suddenly asked, as she sat at your feet. Your hands hesitated as you braided her hair, and you sighed before resuming the task.
"No." You responded, shortly.
She made a noise that sounded like a slightly sympathetic hum, and you nudged her with your knee.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
You playfully tugged at the braid in your hand, "That. Say what you wanna say, babe."
Kayla made a point to sigh dramatically, and pull her knees up to her chest. When she slightly rocked from side to side you rolled your eyes, dropping the completed braid down her back.
"I just..." she sighed again, and you snorted, "Don't laugh, I'm concerned about my little sister. You're in your twenties, you're beautiful, smart, funny, and you're supremely prickly."
You feigned offense, "I am NOT prickly. I'm just able to see through the romanticism of it all."
"So you say," Kayla hmphed, "You and I both know you get a little bit of a thrill out of bullying people."
As you combed your fingers through the completed braids with mousse, you smirked to yourself. She wasn't wrong. But you didn't fully see that as an inherent character flaw. Bullying could be fun sometimes.
"Maybe..." you agreed.
"Not 'maybe.'" You could almost hear her pouting. "I know things with your ex ended badly--"
"--Don't." You warned, leaning away from the woman sitting between your knees like she'd scalded you.
"I'm just saying that you were right. And I still wish you'd let me hit him with my car, but whatever. I'll ask again in a couple of months and see how you feel..." At this, you giggled. "...BUT I think you should consider dating around. Just so you can remember what it feels like to actually like someone, you know?"
"I did go on a date with someone and you know how that ended."
Kayla sucked her teeth and turned to look at you, squinting her dark brown eyes in annoyance.
"What?" You asked, fighting the growing smirk on your face.
"What?" She mimicked in a voice that sounded impressively close to yours.
Kayla, of all people, knew that dating in the modern age was trash. Who really wanted to go through the talking stage over and over again, with numerous people? As much as you hated your ex at the moment, there was a small comfort in never really having to question if he wanted to be with you. You watched your friends have tired dating experiences. And though your relationship was far from perfect, you didn't envy those who still had to search for their person.
Karma was a no good, rotten ass bitch. You refused to entertain her.
You finally tilted Kayla's head back and gave her a gentle smooch on the forehead.
"I'm okay, babe. I promise," You reassured her. "I'm okay with my solitude."
She scrunched up her nose at you--the perfect mirror of yourself, and you knew she was very much your sister.
"Gross." She chuckled.
Once Kayla finally went to bed, and you had the chance to get lost in your own thoughts, you tried to better understand what the emptiness you felt stemmed from. I couldn't have been a relationship. Despite everything that happened in the last year--and a LOT had happened--you didn't feel like you needed a partner. You simply just felt aimless.
You examined your face in the bathroom mirror, with a towel wrapped tightly around you. You focused on your grounding mechanisms to ward off the dissociation that'd been slowly creeping up on you over the last few months. There were two dark, dull eyes staring back at you.
"Ooookay." You said to yourself, shaking your shoulders out before hanging up your towel and stepping into the tub.
You mentally examined yourself: a nose, a mouth, braids with a disappointing amount of new growth. A neck, shoulders, a chest, a stomach, and legs. You were there: thinking, existing, blinking, and breathing in the minty steam rising from your shower.
The repetitive sound of the water hitting the tile walls made you zone out, briefly wondering if maybe you were just doing something wrong with life. After all, no matter what you did, you could never seem to find that much needed level of satisfaction. Maybe you were meant to be unfufilled--
"SHIT!"
You jumped at the sudden outburst, nearly braining yourself on the floor of the tub. A new shadow shifted on the other side of the curtain.
"GOD DAMN IT, AARON! FUCK!"
-x-
He had no idea where he went. One moment, he was standing beside you in your bedroom. The next, he was submerged in pure darkness. He saw nothing, he felt nothing.
He tried to call out for you, but it was as if his voice was snatched from his throat. His brain was floating in an empty space devoid of sound and light.
He tried to scream.
Nothing.
The unnatural quiet of the liminal space set his nerves on edge. It was as if his brain--or what was left of it--was trying desperately to find something to latch onto.
Aaron's consciousness felt stretched thin and compacted at the same time. He called out for you again. And again. And again.
Nothing.
That was when he felt it.
Something that watched him in the darkness. It had a thousand eyes that seemed to be stalking him from all sides, and he could almost feel the heat of its breath on the back of his neck. The thing spoke, croaking from deep inside his subconscious, and scratching at the inner corners of his mind.
Malevolus...et caedes. I hunger. I'm watching. ...you can't have her.
The thing shifted around him, and he felt its icy hand on his shoulder, nails digging into him hard enough to draw blood. It leaned in close to him, and the smell of mold and blood lingered on its mouth.
Suddenly he was in your bathroom, hands up in a defensive stance, and screaming.
"GOD DAMN IT," you screamed, "AARON! FUCK!"
He curled up in a ball, trying to get his bearings but unable to focus. He stared off into space, chest heaving, eyes wide and unfocused. He couldn't hear you calling his name. And even as you crouched in front of him in your towel, he couldn't stop staring at the thing that seemed to stare at him from the corner of your bathroom. Grinning with sharp jagged teeth and a mouth full of blood. Its eyes were black without pupils, and its face seemed to shift in the light. Then it was gone.
"Aaron?" You whispered, reaching out to him. He shrank away from you, continuing to stare at the wall where the creature had been.
"I was gone for almost a month?" He asked the following day, watching you pace back and forth in your bedroom. He shook his head, "That's...that isn't possible. I was only gone for a couple of minutes. Maybe an hour."
It killed him inside to watch you ignore him as Kayla rushed in to check on you and eventually led you to bed. He didn't want to be alone. Not when that thing was still watching him. But now that he was back, he wanted to grab you by your hands to get you to stop and look at him. He just needed to know that he wouldn't disappear again.
"I thought you'd moved onto the other side after the Ga-" you hesitated, then glanced at him cautiously and whispered, "the Gavin thing."
You both paused, almost waiting to see if he would drop off the face of the Earth. When he didn't, he let out a deep sigh and shuddered to himself.
"What happened?" You asked. When he quirked an eyebrow at you, you clarified, "What made you disappear?"
He swallowed hard and avoided your questioning gaze, choosing to stare at his hands. He was relieved to see them again, but was confused by some new scars that seemed to have appeared on his knuckles. That couldn't have been right.
"I was so angry," he confessed, "I felt white, hot rage. Rage I'd never felt before. I just...Gavin was like my brother. And Talia was the only woman I'd ever really loved. He was constantly saying that Talia was terrible, and I defended her with my life. I died angry at my best friend over her. Only for them to get married not even a year after I was put in the ground?"
When he said it aloud, he felt the heat rising up again, and he flexed his hands.
"My body wasn't even fucking cold yet." The lights flickered in the apartment, and he tried to reel himself back in. Aaron wanted to desperately squeeze the bedsheets in his fists, maybe even punch something, and was frustrated that he couldn't. "And now he's dead. Gone forever. And I can't even ask him why he did it."
He briefly wondered if Gavin was haunting some hole-in-the wall somewhere. It'd be on brand for him. Maybe he was in Hell, if that existed. That was even more on brand.
"I'm sorry." You murmured, sitting beside him, "For all of it. I'm sorry you found out this way. I'm sorry you lost your best friend--"
"I want to know how he died."
He watched you fidget with your hands and bite your inner cheek, avoiding eye contact.
"...Are you sure?"
It still hadn't even sunken in that his best friend of several years was dead, leaving behind Talia and three children. He figured it'd be better to rip the band-aid off.
"No. But tell me anyway." He wanted to reach out and hold you to let you know that he'd be okay. Instead, he offered you a small smile and shrug, hoping to reassure you that he could handle it. You still stared at him with wide, worried eyes.
"I don't know if that's a good idea."
"C'mon..."
You huffed at him, crossing your arms, "You don't know how you looked when you came back. You were terrified. You were babbling about a thing in the dark. And you were gone for almost a month over this. Who's to say you won't be gone for even LONGER next time, just because your emotions shifted?"
The mere mention of the dark made him involuntarily shudder again, and you motioned at him as if to say, "I told you so."
He decided it'd be better to concede. For now. He would ask again at a later date. He was sure you thought he was curious out of a desire to feed some morbid curiosity. He wished it was just that.
He finally coaxed you to sit beside him on your bed, and he was surprised to find that there was still a small tingle of warmth as you sat near him.
...you can't have her.
The croaking voice seemed to ring in his head as he looked at you. He didn't tell you everything. He couldn't. As long as it couldn't invade your thoughts you were safe.
At least that was the assumption he was going to make.
He spent the following nights sitting in bed next to you, keeping watch as you slept and it watched him from the darkest corner of the room.
I hunger.
He focused on the sound of your breathing, actively trying to ignore the grinning creature. As the nights wore on, it seemed to slowly vanish. Soon there was nothing.
On the eighth night of his hypervigilance, he watched as you sighed in your sleep and curled up closer to him. Your brows furrowed, and you groaned.
"You alright?" He whispered, hovering his hand over your forehead. You were burning up. He could feel you burning up. He hesitated, and then fully pressed his hand to your forehead. In turn, you instinctively grabbed his hand in your sleep, and jolted awake.
You both stared at your joined hands.
"Oh...you're ice cold." You whispered before passing out.
#aaron taylor johnson#atj x black!reader#atj x reader#aaron taylor johnson x reader#aaron taylor johnson x black!reader#atj#jaelle writes
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So, I got a little carried away and this turned out longer than expected
Based on this
As A approaches the bathroom carrying a blanket and a glass of water they're able to hear loud, harsh retching noises. They peek into the bathroom and see B slumped against the toilet, seemingly leaning against for support, too weak to even keep themselves up
They're shivering violently, their teeth chattering as A kneels next to them and wraps them into the blanket. They begin rubbing circles into B's back in an attempt to at least comfort them a bit, and they can't help but wince when they feel the heat rolling out of B, almost stinging when they first touch them
A is not sure if the blanket is gonna do any good, especially since B's fever seems to have gone up, but the way B was trembling was breaking their heart, and they felt like they had to do something
"I-it hurts..." B manages to rasp out between retches, their voice barely above a whisper and hoarse from all the vomiting. They get a small reprise to catch their breath before they get cut off by a dry heave so forceful it makes their whole body lurch forward, and A has no do doubt it had to be incredibly painful
A reaches out for the glass of water they brought with them, holding it towards B "Think you can try to drink some water? It may hurt a little less if you have something to bring up"
At that B gags violently, their face twisting in pain, bringing up a mix of bile and the remains of what was left of the water A had managed to coax them into drinking less than an hour ago. Ok, guess that was a no then
Some of it makes it way out of their nose, leaving them coughing and spluttering as one of their hands leaves their stomach to clutch at their throat whimpering softly
"Whoa, try to breathe, alright? I-... I know it hurts, I'm sorry..." A almost whispers the second part as they start patting B's back in an attempt to help them dislodge anything that might be clogging their airways
B's eyes are filled with tears, and A is not sure if it's because of the force of their heaving, the fever or if they're actually about to start crying. The sight has A biting their lip nervously
"s-stop it..." B makes their best attempt to glare at A, although it's deemed mostly unsuccessful as their eyes are glazed over and unfocused. B wants to tell them to shut up, to stop apologizing cause it's not their fault, but they're struggling to get the words out as they pant for air
The truth is A was actually the first one to get sick, having most likely caught the bug at work. And while for them it was a 24 hours thing, it seemed to be hitting B pretty hard. They were counting 3 days already and B showed no signs of getting better. In fact, much to A's concern they were getting worse with each passing day.
B kept reminding them it wasn't their fault, but A couldn't help but feel guilty knowing they were the cause of B's misery, so they tried their best to help B however they could. Although they felt like that didn't seem to work well either if B's condition was anything to go by
After a couple minutes of heavy panting and weak dry heaves B finally slumps against A with a groan, one hand against their still upset stomach. B closed their eyes taking deep breaths in and out of their nose, trying to will their nausea to go away, the back of their throat still spasming slightly
"Think you're done for now?"A asked gently running their fingers through B's hair
B merely hiccups before shaking their head "But I don't think anything else is going to come up anyway"
"Alright, let's get you to bed so you can try to rest. How does that sound?" A says trying their best to not wince at B's response, guilt and concern making their own stomach churn
B attempts to answer, but a wave of nausea hits them so hard it makes them lightheaded, and when they open their mouth the only thing that comes out is a loud, wet burp
"I don't...I-I'm dizzy..."
"It's ok, let me help you" A says as they begin pulling B up. As they do so they realize B is completely limp in their arms, their legs trembling, much like a newborn deer, unable to keep themselves upright. They're so weak, their head even lolls slightly to the side before they manage the strength to straighten it
As they start walking B can't help but whimper, moving is doing their stomach no favors, and they feel so lightheaded they're sure they're going to pass out in any minute
They're about to ask A to stop when they finally pull into the bedroom, A gently placing them in bed and tucking them in
"I'll be right back, ok?" A presses a kiss to B's forehead as they finish fixing their pillows, a soft hiss scaping their mouth when they feel the heat radiating from B's skin
By the time they come back B is already asleep, exhaustion having caught up to them. They press a cold compress to their forehead in an attempt to lower B's temperature to a less dangerous one, and B leans into it, seemingly relieved. A sighs softly before gently nudging them awake
"Hey, B. I know you're tired, but I need you to drink some water before you go to sleep"
B's skin was no longer clammy despite their fever, and all their previous attempts to get B to drink something had ended with B throwing up. A is starting to panic at the thought of B getting dehydrated
They were currently in the middle of a snow storm, and the nearest hospital wasn't close enough to risk it. So they were dreading the idea of B needing medical attention
A soft groan leaves B's mouth as A wakes them up, and it takes them all they have to force their eyes open, their vision blurry and eyes glassy
B feels something cold press to their lips and even though they struggle to make sense of the world around them, everything coming to them distorted as if they were underwater, they manage to make out the words "drink" and "please"
B recognizes A's voice, although something seems to be off with it. They sound…oddly worried for some reason
B hesitantly begins sipping on the water, as they assume that's what A wanted, but stops quickly when it makes the pain in their stomach suddenly intensify. The water sits heavily on their stomach, and they can feel it sloshing against its walls
A low whine leaves their throat, and B wraps their arms around their stomach, curling into a ball as a deep ache spreads across their abdomen. They shift slightly on the bed, bringing their knees up, but that doesn't seem to work either. Their stomach cramps yet again and they gasp for air, the pain leaving them breathless for a couple seconds
"H-hey, what's wrong?". A sounds more than a little frantic. They can see tears collecting on B's lashes, and they know if B is on the verge of crying something has to be really wrong
B doesn't answer, just shifting on the bed again, almost writhing as they attempt to make the pain go away. Soft whimpers leaving their mouth
B keeps tossing and turning, their back moving to face A as they try to find a comfortable position. B's stomach is gurgling loudly, but after a while A can also make out a soft sniffling sound. And as they peek at B's face they see tears rolling down their cheeks
A is more than a little alarmed, B seems to be in a lot of pain, they have to help somehow. They see the way B is clutching at their stomach, it looks almost as if they're trying to claw it out, and they have no doubt their nails are digging into their skin
"Hey, don't do that. You're gonna hurt yourself" A gently begins to shush them as they nudge B's hand away. Hesitantly lifting B's shirt and placing a hand against their stomach. They cringe in sympathy at what they find. The skin there is bloated and taut, and they can feel the upset organ writhing under their fingers
B whimpers softly at the contact but lets them move forward. Although the moment A applies the smallest amount of pressure to rub their stomach, B yelps in pain, trying to squirm away from their touch. They get cut off by a loud burp, the sound wet and incredibly forceful. It has them bringing up a small amount of water and saliva over their pillow
A freezes, pulling away, clearly horrified at the thought of hurting B any further. And when a second later B curls into a ball and begins to openly sob A can feel their own eyes prickling with tears
"I-I'm sorry…"
B just keeps on sobbing, too deep into their own misery to notice the way A's voice was shaking, or the tears rolling down their cheeks as guilt consumed them
"I was… I was j-just tryn' to help. I-I'm sorry…"
The only response they get from B is another pained sob. At the lack of answer A takes the soiled pillow and moves to change its case. They need to help somehow, but they don't dare to touch B again, they're genuinely terrified of hurting them.
They're biting the inside of their cheek as they try to stop themselves from crying. Their hands shaking as they attempt to keep themselves occupied to prevent their thoughts from spiraling out of control to the worst case scenario
A doesn't know what to do, they're terrified and all their attempts to help keep failing miserably
No, they don't have time to break down, B needs them. A takes a deep breath in as they turn around and leave the room to look for heating pad, maybe that could help with B's pain
When they get back into the room B is passed out over the edge of the bed, bile and drool dripping from their mouth, a small puddle of water on the floor. Their shoulders jolt as a burp has more clear vomit trickling from their lips
"B…?H-hey…" A immediately rushes to their side, their heart racing. B's eyes are barely open and they seem to be completely out of it, they're burning up, and most likely dehydrated . A begins shaking them and tapping on their face, desperate to get B to wake up. B just gives them a soft groan back, not really hearing them
They're not sure how they made it there, but they find themselves dragging B into the bathtub under the cold stream of the shower. They're moving on autopilot, fear and worry completely clouding their thoughts
B's fever was way too high, dangerously so, and that was the only solution they managed to come up with. They realize a second too late they threw B into the water fully clothed. It doesn't matter, they don't have time for that now
A shifts nervously as they wait for any kind of reaction from B. After a while B's eyes slowly begin to open as they groan
"C-cold" B is shivering from head to toe, and at the sound of their voice A breaks down sobbing from relief
"D-don't scare me like that again" A sobs out, gently stroking B's hair back, cupping their face with their hand as they brush their thumb against their cheek
A few minutes later B is wrapped in a towel, sitting over the edge of the bathtub and still shivering
"My head hurts…" B groans weakly, their hand moving to clutch at it
"That's because you need water. I'll help you to bed and then you can try to drink some, alright?"
B hums softly, closing their eyes as A dries their hair. They're exhausted and laying down really does sounds nice
As B gets seated back on bed A passes them the glass of water "Small sips, ok? I don't want you to get sick again"
B obliges, handing the glass back to A once they're finished "A…? Could you… could you lay down with me…?"
A soft smile appears on A's face "Of course, come here" A climbs into bed and opens their arms so B can snuggle closer
B returns the hug, sighing as they bury their head on A's shoulder. B is still sick, and A is still worried, but for now they allow themselves to relax into the other's embrace
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The Call-Out of Alm (cont., Part 3/3)
This is a continuation of a previous post that will be linked here upon each upload.
Only click Read More if you're absolutely sure you want to start/continue reading this.
The Snap
Something about that especially sparked something in me, and I ultimately ended up sending a fairly long message to both Cotton and Alm.
^ [EXH-16: Screenshot 1 of the message I sent to Cotton]
^ [EXH-17: Screenshot 2 of the message I sent to Cotton]
Above is the message I sent to Cotton, below will be the one I sent to Alm.
^ [EXH-18: Screenshot 1 of the message I sent to Alm]
^ [EXH-19: Screenshot 2 of the message sent to Alm]
I'll admit, my phrasing could've been better in each of these messages, though I wasn't really thinking straight due to the stress of the whole situation. I just had to make sure they knew I was done.
Things were noticeably a bit less stressful for me after I blocked Alm, not having to bear witness to the bad things constantly. However, Cotton still remained under Alm's control, and going ahead to the present is where this will all end off.
The Crucial Mistake
So in the past week, Cotton, Alm, and I were talking about timeout punishments, so any rule-breaking would be...well, punished. Cotton accidentally asked me in DMs instead of the group chat, but I still submitted my answer. Upon moving it to the group chat?...Alm was not pleased.
^ [EXH-20: Alm gets mad over an accident]
Despite the fact Cotton and I proved it was an accident, he was still mad, so he insisted I go into a timeout. I said my last words in the server, thinking it'd be 5-10 minutes like we agreed, and...
^ [EXH-21: I've been timed out for 24 hours]
...a full day. I was thrown off by this, but when I saw the group chat, Alm had been verbally abusing Cotton and pressuring them to give me a full day. If I recall correctly, he said...
"SHE SHOULD BE IN TIME OUT FOR A DAY!!!"
...or at least something along those lines. I unfortunately was too dumbfounded to take a screenshot at the time since he deleted them, BUT I did snag Cotton's reaction to being verbally abused and pressured.
^ [EXH-22: Cotton's reaction to being actively abused into giving me a day-long timeout, groupchat screenshot]
^ [EXH-23: Cotton's reaction to being actively abused into giving me a day-long timeout, DMs screenshot]
Fair to say they weren't too happy about having to do what they did. Though, surprisingly, Alm un-timeoutted me. I woke up to that, and...
On My Side
...an argument happening. Scraps was PISSED about Alm trying to make me look bad for helping him get therapy, and Dani (@soulofsolaris) was talking about how a day-long timeout was completely unjustified, so more people should be added to monitor the server. Cotton had ended up nuking the chat due to the stress, though I do wonder if there was also pressuring from Alm behind the scenes.
Sometime around this though, I did ask Cotton for a 10 minute timeout, and claimed it was to serve my sentence truly. Though...it was a setup. Just so I can do what I predicted what I'd be able to do.
^ [EXH-24: Alm takes the bait and gets mad at Cotton despite the fact I asked them to do something specifically]
Alm, as I suspected, got mad at Cotton. In front of other people. Before the chat got nuked. Alm tried to release me 4 minutes and 1 second early, but I immediately shut him down when saying...
"Put that shit back I still got 4 minutes and 1 second left."
He did. He didn't say anything screenshot-worthy after that though. I think I got more than enough evidence though. For now, anyway.
I would add more proof if I had it, but it's still yet to be collected. Doubt he'll be on to incriminate himself more though.
Hopeful End Of The Toxic Tyranny
Recap Summary
I've (hopefully successfully) proved to everyone Alm isn't who he initially presents himself as. I encourage anyone and everyone to add what they can, and I do apologize to dragging all the tagged people in this into this, but your part was crucial in cleansing the online social world, and for that, I thank you deeply.
Last Words To Say
It's funny. Alm kept claiming that I was trying to ruin his reputation. I've never gone out of my way to deliberately do it, and even now when I am, I didn't have to try.
You did all the work for me, Alm. Please continue with your therapy and improve yourself. I will miss any good times we did happen to have, as few and far between as they were.
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The last of the L trio, Larry! An attempt was made at a DJ getup, since Larry's been known for his apparent affinity with music ever since Mario Kart 8. Emphasis on "attempt," 'cause DJ outfits are a fashion I never looked twice at until now.
I think the refs influenced me a little too much, since once I drew the crop top on him I was like "Yes. This is perfect for you. No take-backsies." Dunno how he and anyone else who wears crop tops can handle the breeze against their guts, but I won't judge. XD
Honestly I kinda vibe with him the most so far; the blank, seemingly uninterested expression that's actually just his resting face, the headphones, the baggy yet comfortable pants… Might've put a little more "me" in this design than intended… owo"
…Welp, too late now! Tidbit Time!
Larry's magic is almost purely sound-based. Hypnosis via synthwave, bass drops that create shockwaves, electric guitar riffs to send people (and debris) flying, auditory illusions (with Lemmy's help), the list goes on. As far as he's concerned, there's a perfect sound for every situation.
Before joining Bowser (and subsequently becoming one of his sons), Larry was an average kid; went to school, went home, casually remixed songs and posted them online, nothing more and nothing less. Larry was content with this life, until he got an email claiming to come from the King's royal advisor, asking for Larry to be the DJ at a birthday party that was being hosted at the castle.
While the email screamed "foreign prince scam," Larry decided to play it safe and asked the sender to meet up with him in a public spot (with his parents watching nearby) to discuss music choices. Turns out it was real, and Kamek was more than shocked to find out that one of Wendy's favorite online musicians was even younger than she was.
Larry's magic was first witnessed at the birthday party. When Larry played, everyone who heard his music began to move to the beat, whether they wanted to or not. When he took a break, everyone's heads felt hazy, but were otherwise unharmed as the party went on.
Larry was completely unaware of what happened, satisfied with the huge bag of coins he was given and ready to move on with his life. Two weeks later, Kamek comes knocking at his door, asking Larry and his parents to come to the castle again. They agreed, and after a long, long discussion between his parents and Bowser, custody of Larry was handed over to the King.
He was wracked with guilt after accidentally calling Bowser "Dad" for the first time, fearing that he'd replaced the biological father he still cared for. Bowser was able to convince him to say "King Dad" instead so there'd be an audible difference. The other Koopalings (except Ludwig) began to follow suit.
He is never seen without his precious headphones. Even when he's not listening to music, he keeps them on his head because he likes the feeling of them being there.
He may like it a bit too much, as he struggles to function without them on. The other Koopalings discovered this after Larry was dared to go a full 24 hours without wearing them. He could only last for about four and a half hours before he cracked, his discomfort and slight panic becoming very obvious as he locked himself in a hall closet, refusing to come out until the dare was rescinded and his headphones returned.
While all the Koopalings are aware of Larry's overdependence, the only ones trying to help him with it are Ludwig, Morton, and Wendy.
He may have oversensitive hearing, which explains his dependency and the fact that he kept repeating "it's too loud" while locked in the closet.
He is constantly moving to the beat of whatever song he's listening to (tapping his feet/hands, nodding his head, bouncing in place, etc.) He will do this even in the middle of combat. Rhythm Heaven, anyone?
He tends to get hooked on a few specific things at a time and is prone to info-dumping when asked about it. He tries to hold back on doing this as he was often told to "just shut up" at school. His current interests include music, sports, and horses.
When texting, he uses emojis/emoticons and little else. No one is sure if this is an attempt at the world's longest prank or not.
His star necklace is actually his magic wand. Several of the Koopalings transformed their wands for either the sake of convenience or simply because it looked cool. Larry is in the latter category.
#Koopalings#Larry Koopa#MAN the color palette for this kid was tricky#felt like ages before i could find the right shade of blue for each part :'D#from the looks of it his headcanon list is longer than Lem and Lud's#but i guess that kinda tracks; I've elaborated on those two a bit more than Larry here#i can already see the same thing happening with the rest of the gang#once i get around to drawing them that is =3=#axewchaoscribbles
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Today was good. Much better than yesterday (not that yesterday was "bad" it was just rough).
In less than 24 hours, from overnight Tuesday into Wednesday afternoon we got around 3 feet of snow. It was a lot. My husband wasn't home, so I was handling this on my own. (We knew he wouldn't be here, he was away on business).
I woke up Wed morning to it snowing hard and seeing how much we'd gotten just overnight was already quite shocking. The first thing that happened was our furnace (central heat) was acting weird, and didn't sound right. I checked the thermostat and the temperature in the house was lower than it should be. Well crap. So I turned the heat off but the furnace was still making a weird noise (as if it was starting to come on) - that should have stopped when I turned the heat off.
So I geared up in my snow gear and snow shoes to walk outside to check the intake and exhaust vents of the furnace to make sure they weren't blocked by the snow. Even with the snow shoes it was difficult walking in the snow and I was still sinking down just a little bit. Where the vents are is a very deep snowdrift as it's in a corner of the of the house where 2 exterior walls meet. If I had to guess the snowdrift is between 8 and 10 feet tall so I was really worried about sinking deep down (I did have my phone on me). The vents were not technically blocked but there was a lot of snow and it was getting very close to blocking them, so I still shoveled a bunch of the snow away so it wouldn't become blocked. (I had carried the shovel with me obviously when walking to the vents). Back inside I go and it's still not right. So I turned off the furnace at the switch inside, and left if off for about an hour. The house wasn't too cold yet, and I do have the fireplace, and space heaters if I needed them. So after the hour I turned everything back on and it's been working fine since. Clearly we will need the furnace looked at but at least it's working now (the furnace was maintenanced 2 years ago).
I had kept all the curtains and blinds/shades closed to keep as much of the cold out as possible. But I realized that looking out at the snow falling was not a good idea. At one point it was falling so hard you could see the snow level quickly getting higher and for a few minutes I feared I was actually going to get trapped in the house. But I reassured myself that it would be fine even if that did happen - I had food, water, heat etc. I was fine.
I had to reassure myself a few times yesterday. But the fact that I was able to do that is growth - yay! The snow stopped in the afternoon and the sun came out briefly which did help a little. Then it started snowing again and by this morning we'd gotten just another couple of inches.
Today was sunny and beautiful and no new snow. I was able to clear off the deck almost completely, I started a path from the stairs of the deck to the driveway. And I went next door and helped my neighbor shovel her driveway. Our driveway is getting plowed out by a neighbor with a Tomcat tomorrow (we scheduled it a couple of days ago and he said he'd be able to do it on Friday). So I haven't bothered with doing any of our driveway. Once he clears the driveway I can finish the path from the stairs.
So I feel accomplished, I was productive, I got a good start on clearing snow, and I managed to get through a rough day without freaking out (yesterday). The sun today, and helping (and laughing with) my neighbor was so helpful to my mental health and I'm grateful.
I also learned that the joke of "It's fine, everything's fine, I'm FINE." is actually really helpful to repeat to myself. Even if it starts out as a joke because eventually my brain realizes it's true and that I WILL be fine.
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Hi! I recently discovered your blog and I was hoping to catch the asks open. Do you know any post canon fics of Andrew's last year at Palmetto? Maybe where he is worried about leaving Neil behind? Also, I don't know if there are any fics of star wars au? Thanks!
Here’s what we’ve got for Andrew’s final year and graduation. Oh yeah, and a little bit of Star Wars too! - S
Also see …
‘The Bet’ here
‘The Bones - Way Down We Go fic’ here
'Words Mean Nothing’ here
‘Tumblr Headcanons… andreil fight…’ here
‘as I go forward (hold down the fort)’ here
‘The Cartographer and the World’ here
the pieces that stick around by PoolToast22 [Rated G, 2918 words, complete, 2022]
He’d never thought he'd miss it. The building wasn’t new. He’d spent five years living in it. Surviving in it. But now, with less than 24 hours left within the high walls, he couldn't help but look at it completely differently.
It was no stranger to Andrew to walk away from a living place and feel like a piece of him was being left inside. He knew heartbreak. He knew what it was like to leave somewhere for the last time and know you would never get back the person you were when you walked through the door. In fact, most places he'd lived had broken away a chunk of him. They all tore at his skin, clawed at his soul, and crumbled his defenses until they could no longer be broken.
-
AKA the one where Andrew has one day left at Fox Tower and he doesn't know how to feel about it.
a lesson in communication by mindthekat [Rated E, 11987 words, complete, 2021]
Part 3 of the ‘an exercise in growth’ series
To the untrained eye, Neil Josten would seem entirely normal, albeit a little more tightly wound than usual.
Andrew Minyard's eye is not untrained.
Alternatively: Neil never thought he would live long enough to want a future and Andrew can't find the words to reassure him.
tw: explicit sexual content, tw: panic attacks
The thunder for the storm by aceofreaders (Kickasscookieeater) [Rated T, 15109 words, complete, 2020]
Andrew has spent five years in Palmetto, four years entangled there with Neil Josten and his band of merry foxes.
Andrew has spent four years breaking and rebuilding routines and patterns and thought processes. Four years sharing kisses and cigarettes and truths.
Despite himself, he got used to it. He got used to his own pack, he got used to the other foxes, he got used to Neil Josten in the few ways it's possible to do so. And if pressed, hard, he could admit to himself that he's not sure what to do without any of those things.
But nothing gold can stay, or whatever. Because now he has to leave.
tw: implied/referenced panic attacks
You Deserve Better by socksandsandels [Not Rated, 4749 words, incomplete, last updated June 2020]
Andrew had always told Neil that whatever "this" was meant nothing but Neil had never believed him before. Except now Andrew is graduating and Neil knows that if their going to work long distance then they both have to try harder. But will Andrew finally be able to tell Neil what he means to him or will he keep denying till there is nothing left?
Or: It's Andrews last year at Palmetto and he is about to go pro. Neil asks him to acknowledge what is between them and try harder so they work long distance. But Andrew thinks Neil deserved better then him.
I can't make you love me (if you don't) by djhedy [Rated T, 5318 words, complete, 2020]
Andrew realises he’s faced with two choices: hold onto this or let it go forever.
And he hates that.
Almost as much as he hates Neil.
He watches as Neil turns away, walks up the length of the room once, stops, looks back. “It’s ok,” he says, his voice drained of any emotion, face set. Sure. Resigned. “You always said this was nothing.”
Andrew nods. Remembers there’s a cigarette dangling between his fingers, so brings it back up to his lips, holds it there, doesn’t even bother breathing in.
“Ok,” Neil says again, and leaves the room.
---
before andrew graduates, neil asks him to make a choice.
Have I told you? by alex_wh0 [Rated T, 1312 words, complete, 2020]
Set during Andrew's fifth and final year at PSU, when both Neil and Andrew are perched on the edge of uncertainty. Who knew Neil could write?
i'd hold you down (if I could, make you the enemy) by bluesky_daydreaming [Rated T, 2585 words, complete, 2020]
Neil will tie himself down to Andrew and stick around until Andrew tells him to go and Andrew does not want to be the one who is responsible for keeping Neil on the ground. He will not be the reason that Neil lets himself shut down after they are all gone, the reason he never branches out and seeks out someone new to touch, someone who gladly let him touch them.
****
Or: Andrew pushes Neil away because he thinks it will be easier than watching him leave.
Unspoken by Jeni182 [Rated T, 1905 words, complete, 2019]
Andrew Minyard is not good with words. Betsy helps him find a way to say the things to Neil he wants to.
I Found by trubenblack [Not Rated, 4909 words, complete, 2018]
It's Andrew's final year and they've got a surprise
or the marriage fic bc i refuse to admit they don't
tw: homophobia
Watchful Eyes by SensationalSunburst [Rated G, 2290 words, complete, 2018]
“I'm graduating in three days.” Andrew said.
David took a long drag of his tea and waited.
“I will be moving to Columbus.” He continued, “Neil is not.”
“I have him for another year,” David said, “Are you worried?”
David watched Andrew swallow the knee-jerk denial that he felt anything, chasing it with a sip of cocoa. “He requires a certain level of supervision.”
Damned if I Do by Spanglebangle [Rated T, 4731 words, complete, 2018]
In a few short weeks, Andrew will graduate from PSU. And he has a very important, and very terrifying, decision to make.
Exy, or...something else. But what? Does he really want to commit to Exy for the rest of his life? And if not Exy, then what? What is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to want - and how can he possibly choose it?
tw: anxiety, tw: mention of suicidal ideation
Something in Return by reaching_my_summit [Rated M, 31204 words, complete, 2018]
“Andrew Minyard, how will you celebrate winning your final college Exy championship?”
“I’m going to Disney World,” Andrew deadpans.
- - -
Andrew’s final year at Palmetto State comes to a close. His future is upon him and there are plans to be made. Years ago, Neil asked Andrew to stop smoking in exchange for something. Andrew finally knows what he wants in return.
tw: nightmares, tw: scars, tw: ptsd, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: blood, tw: panic attacks
Star Wars AU:
Hope Is a Disquieting Thing by Sundaye [Rated M, 67953 words, incomplete, last updated May 2020]
Abram's father is one of the most powerful beings in the universe and he's spent years searching for his wife and son who stole millions of credits from the Empire and ran. They're two of the most wanted by the Empire for their dangerous insight into Imperial secrets. When a deadly confrontation with his father ends with Abram's mother's life, Abram must find a way to escape alone for the first time in his life.
Meanwhile, smuggler and ex-Imperial laborer Andrew Minyard and his crew have lost an important ally to the Empire and are intent on rescuing him and returning him to the Rebellion.
When the chance comes for Abram to flee Tatooine with Andrew's crew he dons a new alias, Neil, and takes it.
Basically, this is a Star Wars AU.
tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced drug use, tw: implied/referenced abuse
Star Wars Au when? by @deadliestpieceontheboard [tumblr, 2021]
ok but hear me out: aftg star wars au when?
Art
Jerejean star wars au by @sturmdunkel [tumblr, 2022]
runaway jedi neil by @skye-draws [tumblr, 2022]
Fanart for Hope Is a Disquieting Thing by @fornavn [tumblr, 2020]
Andrew from 'Hope Is a Disqquieting Thing' by @ssundaye [tumblr, 2018]
Hope Is a Disquieting Thing Edit by @sirfluffkins [tumblr, 2018]
#fic#Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard#Aaron Minyard & Andrew Minyard#Andrew Minyard & David Wymack#universe: post canon#au: star wars#au: science fiction#theme: fluff#theme: fluff & angst#theme: angst with a happy ending#theme: slow burn#theme: enemies to lovers#theme: found families#theme: misunderstandings#theme: established relationship#theme: emotional hurt/comfort#theme: break up & make up#theme: graduation#theme: proposals#tw: violence#tw: suicide ideation#tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon#tw: implied/referenced torture#tw: implied/referenced self harm#tw: implied/referenced abuse#tw: implied/referencned drug use#tw: anxiety#tw: panic attacks#tw: ptsd#tw: nightmares
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