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intheshadowsbehindyou · 7 months

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you could write about the Merc's with a gn! reader who loves baking?

Btw, I love your writing style! It all feels so accurate and it's helping to feed this new fixation of mine <3 <3

I see we have some food lovers in the askbox, chat. *crackles knuckles* you ask, and daddy delivers.

Mercs with somebody who gives them food

Scout:

- Depends on your current location. The gravel wars isn’t short of moving from place to place. If it’s somewhere like japan he’ll go full weeb mode and eat nothing but fish related dishes. You know speed racer? In the fucked up TF2 universe there’s a speed racer themed restaurant. Take him there. (On second thought maybe don’t go eating with him in Japan he might eat the Hiroshima rocks.)

- He swears he’s on a diet but it’s inconsistent as fuck. This is the same guy who canonically eats radiation we’re talking about here. You hand him some warm bread you baked and he’s ecstatic. You catch him sprinkling something on his slice. It’s grounded up like pepper. He’s like “This? This shit is fuckin’ perfect. The person who owns my gym back in boston recommended it for energy. Tastes great.” You read the label and you realize it’s grounded up uranium.

- If you make him homemade fried chicken he’ll nearly choke up. Seriously. nobody’s ever done that for him before. Giving him food in general is also his love language but chicken? He thinks you want to marry him forever and ever now.

—————————————————————

Soldier:

- You don’t really know what soldier likes.. He doesn’t make anything very evident and tries his hardest to make his one defining trait being that he’s a veteran. But you know that’s not true. You decide to make him some sandwiches and he’s confused. “Huh.. Well that’s some weird tasting MREs. Not complaining. It’s actually really good. Shame that civilians can’t get the same luxury right now.” He says. You have no idea how to explain that WW2 is virtually nonexistent anymore.

- Finally you settle with something. Honey with warm bread. Instead of eating slices like a normal person he just swallows the entire loaf like a snake. You are worried for this man’s intestines. He seems to be fine however.

- Gives you either a romantic or platonic kiss on the head. Your pick. His breath smells sugary and sweet and you nuzzle your head against his collarbone in response. This is his way of showing he appreciated the food.

———————————————————————

Demoman:

- I sure hope you’re capable of producing stew because that’s all he eats when he isn’t unhealthily suppressing his own hunger with scrumpy.

- You get him to eat a variety of food somehow. Although he’s picky, he isn’t impossible either. Due to growing up in an orphanage he was no stranger to having to cook for himself at times when the caretakers just really didn’t care. You exchange recipes. For some reason he has an entire Scottish cookbook under his bed. As well as a book on “Leonerdo Da Fuq’s Basic Guide To blowing Sentries Up. And making it look like an accident.”

- He’s very thankful. Demoman’s not much of a foodie. He eats to live rather than lives to eat. But your snacks hit different. They’re made with your love. That’s why they’re so much better than what he typically eats.

—————————————————————-

Engineer:

- WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU THATS HIS JOB. HE’S THE OVERBEARING GRANDMOTHER THAT WONT STOP SHOVING FOOD INTO HER KIDS MOUTH!!! NOT YOU!!!

- He eats everything you give him. Even if it doesn’t particularly tickle his fancy. His belly is big and swollen afterwards and you want to squish him so bad. That’s a pillow waiting to be laid on. He then tells you fond memories of thanksgiving and when his mother would cook his family an entire turkey dinner.

- He responds twofold by making you something as well. You wake up one day to find an entire breakfast platter laid on your end table. There’s a little sticky note there and although it doesn’t have a name on it — the dash alongside the expertly drawn symbol of his class is evident enough. Only somebody with expertise in blueprints would draw something like that. Hint hint.

——————————————————————

Heavy:

- Heavy isn’t a dumbass by any means but this is a certified Heavy L situation. He thinks you’re trying to offend him at first because people call him fat on a regular basis. Medic explains from afar that actually it’s a gesture meant to express hospitality, and upon realizing you were just being nice he looks embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck.

- Lets you spoon feed him your food. He likes it for some reason. He likes any kind of meat, and protein. He eats that shit everyday. Not just that but dark chocolate and other bitter tasting foods as well. Despite his massive size he doesn’t actually eat large portions at a time.

- He knows how to make mostly deserts. Takes on a sort of mentor role and tries to teach you how to bake cakes and stuff like that. You’ve never seen Heavy in such a domesticated setting. Watching him go about cooking without breaking somebody’s skull in for once was actually kind of surreal.

————————————————————————-

Pyro:

- Cook / get them nothing but sweets. They won’t eat anything else. You begin to wonder if Pyro is even remotely human because of how much unhealthy food they eat. (But then again you’ve seen soldier survive losing both his arms and Medic sowing them back on. It’s probably fine.)

- They are unbelievably excited to see you walk into the room with plates and/or boxes. You’ve unintentionally pavloved them into associating it with your food. They clap and make grabby hands. Wanting to see what sweets you’ve brought them.

- It’s actually quite odd.. You see them retreat into their quarters to eat their food. It’s clear they’ve eaten it because they always take the plates back but you’re never allowed to see them eat directly. They don’t attend dinner with the other mercs or even breakfast.

- DO NOT LET THEM NEAR THE FUCKING OVEN. DO NOT LET THEM COOK. THE ADMINISTRATOR MADE IT AGAINST THE RULES TO LET PYRO NEAR THE STOVE.

————————————————————————-

Sniper:

- “Bloody hell.. This for me?” His voice hiked up a little. A little shocked that somebody would even consider making or buying him food in the first place, Only his parents ever did that for him. He takes it hesitantly but his expression doesn’t seem negative. Just incredibly dumbfounded. You had got him some donuts from a market in tuefort. You figured it would go well with his coffee.

- Immediately starts eating them. Sniper is both a meats sort of guy and a sweets sort of guy. Looks from side to side to make sure nobody saw him take your offer. That would be a embarrassing. He grabs the entire box and retreats into his camper van like a rat.

- He then slowly opens the door.. “Oh, right. Bugger. This is typically the moment I comfortably invite you in.” He cringes at the thought. Leaving the door open for you, and moving aside to let you in. He begins telling you the basics about how to hunt your food. For some reason it’s all incredibly dangerous aussie animals though. Some of the stuff doesn’t sound edible but he’s apparently eaten. He’s especially passionate about how to properly cook crocodiles.

———————————————————————-

Medic:

- Pretentiously nitpicks the fact you brought him cupcakes. Citing his knowledge about how too much sugar consumption can kill you… whilst simultaneously eating the cupcakes.

- “Even worse yet —- they ruin your dental health. Hoo, i’d hate to be on the receiving end of a tooth filling by an angry dentist.” He says, shoving more of your sweets into his face. You wonder if he’s even self aware of what he’s doing to be honest. “Although I do envy their sadism! It’s much worse than mine, actually — Das schmeckt gut.” He adds.

- He frowns. You knew Medic had loved cupcakes in particular so you were confused at first. Well it wasn’t that. In fact it was something more stupid. “Well then again the consumption of sugar is important for our bodies, I must add. With the wrong diet we could die from low blood sugar. I wonder if it is possible to extract all the sugar from a human body using a sort of giant homebrewed syringe. It is in theory possible for me to—“ The man is at his chalkboard writing down mathematical equations again.

———————————————————————-

Spy:

- When you give him food for the first time he’s unbelievably pouty. Couldn’t you have asked him his tastes first? He hesitantly eats what you give him anyway. As long as it isn’t fried, fast food, candy or anything that wasn’t expensive as fuck.

- Incredibly good table manners. Incredibly good at cooking his native cuisine. For some reason he’s intent on insisting that french food is superior than any other food. When you’re eating with him he straightens your posture, politely puts your napkin in your lap and schools you on the fact you’re not using your salad fork or whatever. There’s way too much pointless shit on his table. Who the fuck created all these weirdly specific rules?

- Eventually he’s so tired from trying to teach you he loses his temper and crosses his arms like a discontent toddler while you eat nonchalantly. “What?” You say. Using the wrong fork again. He’s still staring at you. “What?!” You repeat yourself. “I love you, Spy.” You say. Shoving more food into your mouth. He keeps glaring at you.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #demoman x reader #heavy x reader #medic x reader #spy x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #pyro x reader #sniper x reader

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ellieswifie · 5 months

Note

hi!! i wondering if you could do a matt fic based off of the song “all too well (10 minute version)” by taylor swift? maybe it can take place a few moths after the reader and matt’s breakup? i love your writing btw!

︿︿ ੈ [ ☕️ ] ༉‧₊˚✧

all too well tmv | matt sturniolo

♪ all too well tmv - taylor swift

summary: you and matt were happy, but push comes to shove and years later you guys see each other’s future and your not in it. (ft. all too well 10 minute version short film.)

warnings: matt!exboyfriend x fem!reader, no happy ending (i’m sorry guys!), shouting, cursing, little gore, toxic relationship , use of y/n (once), the other woman

authors note: so this has been the drafts since august bc i don't think it's one of my best works. i tried my best to incorporate the film to this fic as best as i could but i believe i failed. i’m glad you enjoy my content, and i hope you enjoy this too!! ps!! i skipped some lyrics so don’t get too confused haha.

˗ˋ.*✧·˚ ೃ࿔₊•

an upstate escape, past

your walking hand in hand with your boyfriend, matt as you walk through the door of his parents house. it was freezing outside mid october. leaves were falling, air was cold, everything felt perfect.

"i walked through the door with you, air is cold. something about it felt like home."

matt’s head turned to you while he untwined your hands and rushed to turn the heater on. the house was quiet as you followed matt towards the living room where he lit a fresh fire in the fireplace.

you couldn’t help but smile at his face noticing how quickly he was to turn the fireplace on. his face grew flushed as you reached for the scarf hanging around your neck to place it on the near by couch.

“and i, left my scarf there at your sister's house and you've still got it in your drawer even now"

before kneeling down besides your boyfriend and wrapping your cold hands around him.

"warm enough?" he whispered, rubbing his hands towards the fire.

you nodded, kissing his cheek. a cheeky smile spreading against my face.

there isn’t much to do in small town boston. going into city causes loud noises and angry drivers, two options why you and matt decided taking a stroll through the woods is a better idea. matt grew up going to this creek that wasn’t too far away from where he lived. he enjoyed growing there with his brothers and old time friends.

you’ve met chris and nick several times before you and matt called things official. you admired how funny chris was, and how quick nick is at speaking his mind.

and matt. you lived just about anything matt said. the smallest things he’d say or do made you smile and stare at him like he was everything to you. and he was. he was everything you needed and cared about always.

"oh, your sweet disposition. and my wide-eyed gaze"

"so when’s nick and chris coming up?" you asked as you sat in the passenger seat while matt drove. his eyes were focused on the road ahead, attempting to find a parking spot or somewhere to park before the two of you started your trail.

"umm chris said sometime later tonight. but it’s chris he’ll probably not be leaving til tonight." matt replied, switching through the radio stations. you nodded your head, watching him. he turns and smiles at you before reaching for your hand once he’s found a good song on the radio.

"we're singing in the car, getting lost upstate."

your eyes tore from matt’s as you tightened your hold on his hand. nothing with matt felt real. it was incredible how the air felt so crisp and clean, the way the wind in your hair caused goosebumps along your skin. the leaves falling down like december snow.

it was like heaven with matt.

"autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place. and i can picture it after all these days."

the first crack in the glass

when matt asked you if you wanted to meet his friends, you were immediately excited at first. you already knew some of the kids he grew up with in the past, but meeting his new youtube friends seemed exciting, but also incredibly nerve racking.

you all sat at a large dinner table seated for eight while matt, nick, and chris and all their friends sat around it. you were seated beside matt as you listened in on what the group was talking about. majority of the group was doing big things.

it was youtube, music, podcast, etc.

but you. you were just you. continuing your major in college, just shaking your head when someone mentioned if we’re getting into social media.

matt and you knew social media wasn’t in the pictures for you, but you lived what matt was doing with his life and supported him and his brothers channel.

you listened as nick and chris called matt out for all of his silly childhood behaviors. you couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriends flushed face when his brothers started pulling out pictures of him from when he was younger.

"photo album on the counter. your cheeks were turning red. Your cheeks were turning red. You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed."

his friends all around laugh for a long moment, before bringing out more social media career opportunities. it made you feel out of place, unwanted. your eyes looked towards matt while he continued listening to one of his friends talk about touring. you wanted to feel matthew’s comfort in any shape or form, but his eyes were glued to anything but you.

you groaned, picking at the food in front of you, thinking about some of past conversations you’ve had with matt. every little conversation ending in sweet "i love you’s" or meaningful kisses. you just loved that about him. you loved his love language was always physical touch and affection.

"and your mother’s telling stories ’bout you on the tee-ball team. you told me ’bout your past thinking your future was me."

so you did what any girl who wanted comfort would do. you reached to hold your boyfriends hand, but his body jerked slightly, placing your palm back on the table where it was before. he patted softly, pissing you off, but crowding your thoughts with sadness. you couldn’t believe what just happened.

you felt embarrassed.

you just wanted to walk out right then and there, and leave. but you just sat there, staring at it hand for a long moment before meeting eyes with your boyfriend. he sent you a smile which made you more angry.

so you turned your body away from him, making yourself feel invisible.

"you taught me 'bout your past, thinkin' your future was me.”

"hey your quiet.." you heard matt whisper behind you as you tossed the remaining dishes from your guest into the sink. "what’s up?"

you wanted to ignore him so bad. you felt childish for getting mad over something so small and meaningless, but you just felt so out of place and angry. it just felt like he didn’t care. like you were a ghost.

"he's gonna say it's love, you never called it what it was."

"nothing." you hissed back, scrubbing the dish a little too hard. "i’m just tired."

your boyfriend nodded, moving around the kitchen to place a soft kiss against your forehead. "i’m tired too, dinner was good."

"yeah, sure whatever."

matt head darted toward your annoyed tone. he was finally catching on. “what’s wrong with you?"

the breath that escaped your lips was heavy. you wanted to shove your arms at his chest and shout and scream at how angry he made you feel, but you couldn’t snap the cord, not yet.

"nothing. i’m fine."

"you sound pissed and far from fine." he repsoned, leaning against a counter, across from where you stood, back turned.

"i’m not pissed, i’m just-" the plate in your hands shattered, making a loud clattering noise. you gasped, a large piece of glass scraping against your palm, causing blood to drip. "shit." you hissed, immediately grabbing the cloth.

"'til we were dead and gone and buried. check the pulse and come back swearing it's the same."

"fuck-" matt curses under his breath. walking toward you, but you placed your steady hand towards his chest, stopping him.

"and then you wondered where it went to as I reached for you. but all I felt was shame…"

"i’m fine." you argued. matt stepped back watching your eye brows draw together in anger. "just- why do you have this fucking problem with me when we are around people? it makes my skin crawl."

matt grew confused watching you. "problem? what are you talking about, babe?"

you nearly laughed at his comment. he knew exactly what you were talking about. it’s like he has this on and off switch. when your together, alone he’s obsessed with you. buying you gifts, loving you, he only has eyes on you. when you guys are in public, with friends it’s like he’s distracted, never noticing your there.

like at dinner…

"oh i don’t know, maybe the fact you dropped my fucking hand in front of everyone. then send me a smile like it didn’t happen."

matt stood still, watching you grow angry. he didn’t know what to say. that he’s sorry? no that’s just pathetic and a dick move.

"i’ve never felt so out of place, matt. it was like i was invisible, sitting in a room crowded of people." you confessed, letting the blood bleed through your towel.

"i look like a fool." you frown, noticing that the cloth isn’t helping and your just ranting.

matt switch turned back on, rushing to grab a larger cloth from the stove, placing it onto your hand. his eyes met yours as he shook his head. "your not a fool."

"i’m a fool." he whispered, looking at the wound. "the one girl i care most in the world felt uncomfortable and hurt and i was an asshole for not even noticing. i didn’t mean to drop your hand. i was distracted and just was being a dick. i’m sorry."

you just stared, watching him closely. his eyes were apologetic and his words seemed like they had some meaning, but you just weren’t sure.

"okay…" you whispered.

"i mean it. i’m sorry. your the only person i care about. you know that right?” you shrug, just nodding. "okay. good."

you both starred at the space between you guys, before matt mutters "come here", wrapping his large arms around you. "i really am sorry." he whispers against your hair and you just nod.

"and you held my lifeless frame."

"i know." you respond licking you lips. "it’s okay."

are you real?

"'cause there we are again in the middle of the night"

a smirk placed on your face as you held a single uno card up to your face. you had a plan, one the was currently working. you played your weakest card, so your now holding your strongest one, just about to win.

matt wasn’t too far from you, he had four in his hands, taking forever to take his turn.

"we’ve been playing since six matthew. it’s three." you giggle, wanting him to just play a card so you can win.

“wait your turn pretty girl, i’m thinking."

you blushed at his comment, narrowing your eyes at his lips pressed together, before you lock eyes with the cards.

"pretty girl?" you teased, twirling your hair with your free hand.

"yeah," matt whispered, placing the cards face down on the table. "you are very pretty."

you moved the hair tangling in your hair to poke his nose playfully. "thank you… but it’s still your turn boy. go."

matt held his hands up in defense, before placing down a plus four. but you weren’t fazed. you stared at the card, before stacking your draw four ontop of his. you giggled at his stunned reaction before jumping up from the table and dancing in his face.

"i win!! loserrr…" you teased, before matt snaps, and grabs you by your hips, spinning you around. you laugh at the sweet touch before wrapping your arms around his neck.

"you definitely cheated." he replies, swaying your hips as you guys began slow dancing in the middle of the kitchen.

"we’re dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light."

it’s dark, but you can see the light in matt’s eyes when his hands fully sneak around your waist, pulling you closer.

he looks beautiful in the light it’s impossible to look away from him. he’s smiling and his cheeks are a small tint of red.

"i’m no cheater," you whisper. his brows raise for moment, before he lifts your arms, spinning you like a princess.

"down the stairs, i was there. i remember it all too well."

"and there we are again when nobody had to know."

you bit the inside of your cheek as you stood behind matt, hand holding his behind his back. his head glanced down at you smiling, before he turned back towards his brothers nodding and listening.

you hated how this was how things was. you felt secretive, hidden, unaware of. you just stood in matt’s shadow always.

"you kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath.”

"what about you?" you heard nick say to you, lifting your head to face him. "tacos or burgers?" he asked, smiling.

matt rubbed his finger along the back of your hand, waiting for your answer.

you lips licked before smiling at them. "tacos?"

matt kissed your head, smiling at your answer, before slipping away from your hand. "tacos it is!"

"sacred prayer and we'd swear. to remember it all too well, yeah

the breaking point

when you wanted to ask matt to come over, your intentions was to hangout with your boyfriend and cuddle up along the couch. but when you opened the door and watched him linger there, you knew something was off.

his poster was low, his eyes seemed dark, he didn’t look himself.

you held the door waiting for him to walk in, kiss you numerous times, but he stood, quiet.

"well, maybe we got lost in translation, maybe i asked for too much."

"hey is everything okay?" you asked, forcing a smile. you stepped forward and matt backed away slightly, reaching his hand to his ear to scratch. you notice these small ticks. he only ever did it when he felt uncomfortable or nervous. you never made him feel either of those things through your entire relationship so seeing him now made your heart sink.

"but maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up."

"i’m fine- can we talk?" he asked, voice shaky, hands moving to shove in his pockets. you head turned to look over his shoulder. your neighborhood was walking into her apartment with her significant other, giggle and matt followed his glaze, tilting his head down. "please?"

"runnin' scared, I was there. i remember it all too well."

your head shook for a moment, bringing yourself back in time. "sure." you muttered, stepping from the door, hands feeling shaky. you moved towards the long couch, taking a seat as matt made his way in front of you, standing. your head looked up at him while he looked around your apartment.

it was cleaner, more decorative. you spent all of yesterday making the place look nice for matt, but seeing the expression on his face, you hated yourself for changing the place.

"the place look really nice." matt said, glancing at the pillows and blankets laid against the couch.

you ignored him, looking at your hands. "what do you want to talk about?"

"and you call me up again just to break me like a promise. so casually cruel in the name of bein' honest."

matt looked back towards you, kneeing down on his knees to sit in front of you. you looked at his face, seeing his eyes wonder anywhere but yours. he’s always distracted. "i wanted to talk about us…"

your breathing picked up as he placed his hands on your thighs, reaching for your shaky fingers. "i love you so much." he says, meeting your eyes. "your important to me and i want you to be happy always."

you waited for the but. there’s always a but.

he intertwined your fingers, looking at how small your hand looked in his. "but things between us have been off." he whispers, and you look away from his face, staring straight ahead. your eyes felt watery, but you weren’t going to cry. not in front of him. "and i know you’ve noticed, because filming and the podcast and everything really."

his voice gradually got quiet as you felt him just listing out excuses.

"i’m a crumpled-up piece of paper lyin’ here. 'cause I remember it all, all, all."

"matt stop-" you chocked out, stopping him immediately. your fingers slipped out of his and you kept staring away from him. "just stop."

"they say all's well that ends well, but i’m in a new hell everytime. you double-cross my mind."

he pushed back slightly, watching your watery eyes drop to his face. "this isn’t love." you whisper. "love is magic. it’s happy and healthy and you fight for love. you don’t push someone away because it’s getting too hard."

"i’m not pushing you out i’m-"

"matt you saying things have been off. we can work though off. if you care for me you’d fight for me."

"i’m doing what i think is best for you." "you said, "i think we should stop seeing each other."

"and that made me want to die."

"seeing each other? matthew what the fuck." you stood, causing matt’s eyes to lift you and follow you. he rose from his knees, standing up in front of you. "we’ve been dating for years matt and you think we’re just seeing each other?"

"no-" he quickly said, tilting his head down. "that’s not what i meant- you know what u mean."

"the idea you had of me, who was she?" a never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you."

"no matthew i don’t. you’ve been off. not us, you. it’s like your some switch where you don’t act like yourself when we’re with other people. it feels like i’m clinging to a fucking shadow. and i’m sick of it."

"not weepin' in a party bathroom, some actress askin' me what happened, you. that’s what happened, you"

"you don’t mean that." he breathed. "you’ve just been distant to us and it’s confusing me."

your nose scrunched as you stared at him. you were done you hated what was happening and it made your stomach twist, but you knew what had to be down. "matt get out."

his eyes widened and you were quite surprised yourself. "what?"

"i said get out." you said once more, but quieter and more hesitant.

"i wanted to talk, not us completely cut off communication."

"you’ve said and done enough." you whisper, looking at his eyes. "you want to stop seeing each other, then leave."

and so he did. just walking out, not hesitating.

the reeling

"time won't fly, it's like i’m paralyzed by it. i’d like to be my old self again, but i’m still tryin' to find it."

picking up the phone, you stared at the black screen for several long seconds. you weren’t happy. you were absolutely miserable, laying in your bed til twelve, falling asleep til three, you were unlike yourself and growing unhealthy.

it’s only been a month or two since your harsh break up and you couldn’t help longing for a message or a call from him, but you knew it wasn’t happening. you knew he was happier, healthier. and it made you want to die.

"after plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own. now you mail back my things and i walk home alone."

you finally turned on the phone, opening instagram and searching up his instagram. his posts hasn’t changed since you checked, his inactive on his insta. which didn’t bother you, it made you feel a sense of comfort.

you then open his shared account with his brothers. scrolling through the latest posts with him either smiling with his brothers or posing for the camera in the next. you smiled at how happy nick and chris looked, a small tear falling from your glossy eyes. you let your eyes linger on matt for a moment looking at the red sweater he was wearing.

"but you keep my old scarf from that very first week. 'cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me. you can't get rid of it"

it reminded you off the old scarf from you and matt’s past trip from the beginning of your relationship. it made you tear up even more, curling up in your bed, to continue scrolling.

"'cause i remember it all too well."

thirteen years gone, present

you rubbed your shivering hands together as you walked inside the small coffee shop. the autumn air was cold, it’s suppose to be a busy day in the office, so a small coffeee in the morning wouldn’t hurt

you found a small empty booth in the back of the coffee shop before pulling out your phone. the line is long and standing while waiting didn’t seem like your crowd. you quickly place a mobile order, waiting for your coffee.

you pull out your laptop, hiding in your tote bag, before scrolling through your recent works for work. your an interior designer for some company you applied for last spring. you love your job so much and the environment is healthy and makes you feel safe. your coworkers are crazy nice, and you have never felt happier.

as you scroll through your up coming projects, a waitress delivers you your small coffee to you. you mutter her a thank you before you hear the front door ding, causing you to raise your eyes.you have a bad habit of watching people in big scenes. not in a stalker way, but more in a curious way.

but when your eyes land on the man walking in, you nearly drop the hot coffee in your hands.

you handed seen him since he walked out your apartment years ago. it took you months to finally grow from how horrible and torn that relationship make you feel, and now seeing him dressed older, wiser, happier... it makes your heart sink.

"and i was never good at tellin' jokes, but the punch line goes, "I'll get older, but your lovers stay my age. from when your brooklyn broke my skin and bones. i'm a soldier who's returning half her weight."

his blue eyes still look and make your heart race the same. you can't help but let your eyes linger at him. his hair looks more put together, he has grown a few inches maybe, and his style as certainly improved. you have to tear your eyes away from him when you start getting flash backs from your past relationship.

"and did the twin flame bruise paint you blue?"

you stare at the computer seated in front of you before you hear your name from the side of you. your scared to turn and look, because you know who it is. it shouldn't surprise you he wanted to talk, it's matt.

your eyes turn and meet his bright blue. he's got a small smile, while he carries a refresher in his left hand. your not sure what it is, but it looks refreshing...

you let your eyes travel before they stare at the small ring wrapped around his ring finger. it looks beautiful, elegant.

you want to say something, smile, do something, but your heart is racing and your brain is fuzzy.

"i can't believe your here." matt says softly, letting his smile fall. "you look incredible."

"just between us, did the love affair maim you too?"

you loved when matt complimented you. it always made your insides curl and explode with butterflies, but does he compliment his wife like he use to compliment you? where is his wife? what does she look like? thousands of thoughts and questions about his relationship with this other woman fills your brain.

'cause in this city's barren cold. i still remember the first fall of snow and how it glistened as it fell."

a cold breeze goes straight to your cheeks when you hear the door ding again. you turn and see a smiley woman walk in. she looks around for a moment before she sees matt and smile. she walks towards where you and matt are, giving matthew a quick kiss.

matt whispers something to the woman and she then sends you a smile before finding a small booth. your eyes go back to matts, while he avoids yours.

"how have you been? it's been... forever." matt asks, looking back at you, and now your avoiding his glaze.

"i remember it all too well."

"i've been fine." you whisper, trying your hardest to hold in tears. "you seem to be doing fine yourself." you add, clearing your throat.

matt turns to the table the woman is seated at. "yeah... that's gigi. do you remember her from high school?"

your head shook, earning an oh from matt. a long pause escapes between you before you both speak up.

"y/n-"

"matt-"

"no please you first." matt says, stopping himself.

you have so many things to tell him. you want to shout at him for not fighting for you guys, you want to scream at him for breaking your heart, you just want him. again.

“just between us, did the love affair maim you all too well?"

you head falls, looking at the computer time. it's nearly nine and you don't want to be late for work. you start backing up your belongings, while matt stares at you confused.

his hands rest on yours as you feel your whole body react to the physical touch, but you tear yours away quick enough so gigi cant see.

your eyes lock with his and it feels like your nineteen again.

"i-i have work. i'm sorry." you swing your bag over your shoulder and matt watches you try to escape.

"do you need a ride? i know how much you hate driving in the cold-"

"matt." you stop and you both just stare at each other. it was so painful just standing there remembering how little he cared back then. your head just shook, grabbing your coffee and ignoring his pleading glaze. "goodbye."

and it was just a goodbye.

"just between us, do you remember it all too well?"

#ellieswifie #gracie writes #fem!reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew #sturniolo triplets #all too well #taylor swift #taylor's version #all too well ten minute version #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #angst #matt sturniolo angst #matt #request

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teecupangel · 5 months

Note

Os this is my first ask and btw love your posts. Anyway. For the Desmond gets reincarnated as an animal thread, what about a river otter?

Look how adorable Desmond would be:

Since river otters are native to America, we can be reborn as a river otter somewhere in America who makes his way to the homestead, evading predators and just… chilling.

Like…

Look at this:

Otters are usually social animals but they can be loners too although I’m just imagining Desmond with a bunch of little otters who may or may not have been abandoned or are the lone survivors of predator attacks so it took him a while to travel to the homestead as he took in these ‘orphan’s with him. They don’t fully understand his ‘human language’ but they get used to his orders so, by the time he reaches the homestead, Ratonhnhaké:ton had already left with Achilles for Boston and is now on the run from the redcoats.

When Achilles got back, he learns of the family of otter living in the nearby river with freshwater that the people of the homestead go to for their water. Their leader seems to be friendly and would gift the people with nice pebbles and, sometimes, berries or fresh caught fishes. Achilles checked it out and the otter gives him a rock.

When Ratonhnhaké:ton returned and visited the otters, he was given the shiniest stones he had ever seen. Maurice would later realize that they’re not just stones but actual gems. XD

(ngl, I was tempted to make this an ac unity idea because Arno shares the same birthday as Rosa the Sea Otter XD)

#desmond is turned into an animal subgenre #desmond is turned into a creature subgenre #assassin's creed #desmond miles #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed

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mattsbella · 17 days

Text

“impossible” - matt sturniolo

୨୧ ₊˚•. ↳ pairings : matthew sturniolo x almira gomez (fem!oc)

—— ୨୧ ₊˚•. ↳ warnings : angst, fluff, maybe smut…..?

୨୧ ₊˚•. ↳ summary :

ALMIRA GOMEZ had been a fan of the triplets ever since they started, coincidentally she also lived in boston, but in cambridge. she was posting on instagram once when the MATT STURNIOLO noticed her post, also posting pictures with the same caption. is it impossible for these two to get together?

chapter 001

“little baby”

social media, irl, messages

it was a normal day for almira, coming back from college and into her families apartment. she greets her two dogs as she walks in the front door and goes to her room after eating dinner and talking with her mom.

after she finishes her studies and revised she goes on her phone and on her fanpage, casually liking posts and commenting, then she has an idea to post a photo of matt in chicago in the snow with a vert special caption.

@mattspinkshirt

liked by matthew.sturniolo, shpk.naze, and 156 more

mattspinkshirt hes such a little baby

she really didint think much about it and just went to sleep after it.

8:47AM wednesday morning

almira wakes up to her phone absolutely blowing up, she rubs her eyes and goes on her phone to see what has happened, the second she opened her messages from her bestfriend she was shocked.

——— MESSAGES ———

nazeera 🩷

YOU WOULD NOT FUCKING BELIEVE WHAT HAPPED

GET UP YOUR LAZY ASS HOE

almira you literally got fucking quoted by matt

ALMIRA.

MATT LITERALLY COMMENTED ON YOU DAMN POST GET UP.

her jaw drops, what the fuck is she talking about? she goes onto instagram to check is matt posted anything or commented anything.

on the post one of the comments said

@matthew.sturniolo | How am I a little baby..?

she was beyond shocked, and was genuinely about to jump off of her balcony after what she saw he posted.

@matthew.sturniolo

liked by nicolassturniolo, mattspinkshirt and 167819 more

matthew.sturniolo guess im a little baby now?

@mattspinkshirt

↳ NONONONONONONONONONO WHAT NO NO DELETE THIS FUCKING NOW.

@nicolasssturniolo

↳ Matt what is this caption lil bro

@shpk.naze

↳ Almiras gonna love this shit

@user

↳ ALMIRA GETTING NOTICED BY MATT 2023???????,,??????????

@mattspinkshirt

↳ matt ill get on my knees and beg please delete thsi.

↳ @matthew.sturniolo Nopeee

↳ @mattspolitank Lujti qyqja

——— MESSAGES ———

nazeera 🩷

ARE YOU OKAY YOUR MOM JUST TOLD ME YOURE SCREAMING?

almiraa

HOW THE FUCK CAN I BE OKAY?

nazeera 🩷

JUST BREATHE IN AN OUT NO FUCKING WAYYYYYTYYYYYYY

——— INSTAGRAM MESSAGES ———

@matthew.sturniolo

Why am I a little baby?

@mattspinkshirt

nono

NOOOOO

get out FYCK NO IM NTO DOING THISNG

shut up

SHUT RUSPSPSP

@matthew.sturniolo

You talk to all you favourites like this or what?

Love your username btw.

@mattspinkshirt

Hi this is Almiras bsf nazeera, shes currently screaming so give me a bout give or take 5 minutes…

@matthew.sturniolo

I’ll wait for her, but it’s not like im killing her…?

@mattspinkshirt

STOP FUCKING BREAKING HER.

“nazeera, i am not fucking okay, THE MATT STURNIOLO just told me he would wait for me.” almira says while she is sat criss cross on her bed with nazeera.

“you will manage… im sure.?” nazeera says as she sees almira scream once again in her pillow. kicking and giggling her feet.

“also he fucking realised my username, MY FUCKING USERNAME, im going crazy im so embarrased” almira says while shaking her best friends shoulders

“alright calm down” nazeera says as she giggles calming her down.

7:34PM

as almira is revising for college, she gets a notification from instagram, low and behold, it was matt. she gasped slapping her hand on her mouth and wheeling out of her desk.

“what the actual fuck is wrong with him?” she whispers to herself as she opens her messages on instagram.

——— INSTAGRAM MESSAGES ———

@matthew.sturniolo

Whats your main ig I wanna see you???

@mattspinkshirt

GET OUT NO FUCK NOONONONONONONONO

@matthew.sturniolo

You’re acting like I will kill you…

@mattspinkshirt

YEAH BECAUSE IF YOU MESSAGE ME AGAIN YOU WILL

@matthew.sturniolo

I can’t have my favourite fan die 😔😔😔😔

@mattspinkshirt

I HATE YOU DONT MAKE ME GO MORE CRAZY 😔

@matthew.sturniolo

Wait you’re in cambridge? Thats like 20 minutes away from me..

@mattspinkshirt

yes i am you stalker bitch 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

@matthew.sturniolo

My first bitch omg 😩🥰

@mattspinkshirt

🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕 fuck awfff

@matthew.sturniolo

But still, send me you’re main I wanna see you.

@mattspinkshirt

hahahaahahahhaahhahaahahahahahahha

its @almira.gomez……..

@matthew.sturniolo

Thanks sweetheart.

@mattspinkshirt

WHAT.

HWAT

what did u

HWAT

you did not just call me that

@matthew.sturniolo

Is it bad? No?

@mattspinkshirt

i love it dont worry 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

@matthew.sturniolo

Lotta hearts, but you’re pretty.

@mattspinkshirt

imma need a minute.

*screams her lungs out 😩😩😩😩😩*

@matthew.sturniolo

Bro just roleplayed.

——————————————————-

a/n

💋💋💋💋💋 till the next 😝🐆🐆

#sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #impossiblefanfic

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sweetcreatxr · 1 year

Text

♥︎Always been you (2)♥︎

(Part 2 : Back to you )

A Chris evans x singer!malereader mini fic

Here part 1 !

Warnings : a lot of sadness, flashbacks, hurt feelings, Y/N having the best fans ! Sebastian shipping reader and Chris( still not warning but anyway !)

btw y/n has the same voice as Shawn Mendes because i freacking love his but feel free to pick another singer and also has the same energy and style as Harry Styles because that man is everything !

A/N : so so so sorry for the long wait, ive been overwhelmed with work for my school lately and i have sooo many importants exams so yeah, sorry again !!

---------

y/n's pov third person

Y/n wasn't an idiot, he was many things but naive wasn't one of them. So when David, one of his guitarist, offered him a drink for after their concert tonight, y/n knew exactly what David was referring to.

You see, David had been in love with y/n for years, long before Chris came into his life, so knowing the couple was on the brink was a golden opportunity for David.

Y/n knew it and despite that, couldn't get rid of him like that, the decision wasn't even up to him and moreover, Y/n was careful not to tell him that he was the main reason for the tensions in his couple with the Boston man.

No, he certainly didn't want to give him that joy!

Y/n therefore contented himself with ignoring him and thinking of something more positive, hoping to silence all the negative thoughts that had crossed his mind for 5 months now.

5 long months where he couldn't feel Chris' beard brushing against him while they kissed madly, where he couldn't feel his heart beating every time his lover appeared in the same room as him, of his smelling his body smell after one of their tumultuous sexual activities, leaving them in a most divine state, or simply not being able to catch a glimpse of his beautiful smile and laughter.

He still remembers a joke that had made him and the reaction of his man: "knock knock"

" Who's there ?"

"Who"

"Who who ?

" What are you, an owl ?

Chris laughed while taking hold of his left pectorals and tilting his head back but he quickly regained his senses before looking y/n as if he had done the most monstrous thing in the world.

"How dare you… use my own jokes against me, what a monster you are!

Armed with his strong Boston accent, Chris complained again and again while exaggerating his movements while y/n approached, a teasing smile on his face and wrapped his arms around Chris, this one being 10 centimeters taller than him, and took his gorgeous ass into his hands, causing a small cry in the mouth of Chris who stopped talking immediately and looked in disbelief, y/n who smiled innocently before leaving to their room while rolling his hips.

Y/n knew that his morphology drove his man totally crazy, especially when he used it to achieve his goals.

"So, are you coming sir 'I refuse to share my jokes'? I'll wait for you in the bedroom, hurry up…"

The rest of course being them making love for the rest of the afternoon, leaving them empty of energy for the rest of the evening, and the days to come.

Y/n was now shaking with tears sitting on the floor in his dressing room, he was trying his best to stop but it was so hard! He sincerely thought that he and Chris were meant to end their lives together, he had dreamed of it so much and now he could only do that, dream over and over again, wondering how their lives could have been without this fight.

He didn't have time to lament more than Sebastian rushed into his dressing room and came directly to take him in his arms without asking him any questions.

"Don't worry too much Y/n it'll be fine…I had him on the phone earlier and he's on his way, he'll come to see you and you guys will be able to explain everything together, everything will be like before you'll see!"

Y/n raised his head and was greeted by the devastated gaze of his big brother, sad to see his face flooded with endless tears.

"I send him hundreds of messages…he hasn't even opened them…"

Y/n finished his sentence with a small voice, getting ready to start crying again.

"He's driving, if you want him to come back to you, he better be alive right?"

Sebastian grabbed his brother's chin as he pulled him up and continued, "Listen, I know it might sound easy for me to say this but I think you need to pull yourself together! Your gig is in 2 hours and There are already plenty of people waiting for your arrival! They are just waiting for you and your good mood while you are there depressed…"

"You're right…it is very easy for you to tell me that, it isn't you who has your heart broken into a thousand pieces ! Plus, you're both actors! It's certainly easier since you are used to lying, hiding your feelings, but the only things I excel at are writing and singing…"

Sebastian took a few steps back, a small amused sneer on his face.

" So uhh, to begin with : that's not the job of an actor ! Given the lack of time we are facing, we will have this conversation later ! And precisely ! You are an incredible composer and singer and tonight I don't want you to act like everything is fine because that would be lying to yourself, but express yourself ! Sing until you cry!"

"So...About Chris…are you sure he'll be there..?"

"I can assure you that yes y/n. And to bounce on this story of asset, I may be an actor, I also like to sing!"

Y/n got up from the floor and began to choose the outfit he was going to wear before turning around to get his brother's approval, who gave him a thumbs up and a whistle.

"Everyone knows that you love to sing Seb but it doesn't mean that you KNOW how to sing…" replied Y/n with a small smile on his lips.

"And that doesn't mean that I'm gonna stop, you little jerk!" retorted Seb, throwing a pillow at his brother's face.

"Get out of here! I have to get ready to impress your dear friend"

"You know that even if you dress normally he would still be crazy about you?" Seb asked him while approaching the door of the dressing room

"I know"

Chris' pov third person

Chris was now sure, despite the fact that he loved this city, he didn't want to deal with this kind of situation ever again he was currently facing : traffic jams.

He was even more frustrated because he said to Sebastian that he would be there on time and he wanted on top of that not to disappoint anymore y/n, just thinking about him his heart sank as well as his hands on his steering wheel.

"FUCKING SHIT !" he said, honking his horn with all his might, causing a wave of honking all over the road.

Chris leaned back roughly and sighed, he was at his wit's end, he saw his couple tearing apart in front of his eyes and he couldn't do anything concrete but wait.

So he took his phone and started looking at pictures of y/n and him, happy, and without him noticing, tears were running down his cheeks.

He was very sober now and he had the ability to remember some things, like the time he had organized a surprise birthday party for his lover, but it had all almost gone wrong because of his touchiness. :

Chris had gotten up earlier than usual, just to carry out his plan: today was his boyfriend's birthday and he had planned a party for him in a small group but which will remain unforgettable for the young singer .

Chris therefore prepared himself at the speed of light and went down into the basement of their house, all without making the slightest noise, collected the gift(s) he had collected in advance the day before and left for his brother's house to drop everything off.

He then proceeded to continue the course of his day as if nothing exceptional was brewing in Scott's house.

Chris had all day paid attention to y/n's reactions who seemed really sad that his own boyfriend didn't wish him a "happy birthday", but Chris told himself that it was for a good cause and that of course he might getting scolded a bit but that the evening will end with y/n begging Chris to let him cum.

But what Chris didn't know was that y/n, really saddened by this day given Chris' utter ignorance, decided to spend his day at the first bar that came his way.

It was social media that alerted Chris as he tried to figure out where y/n might be. Lots of photos of him, drunk and on the edge of the abyss, were on different types of social networks and even articles with titles like: y/n l/n, all alone and drunk on his 29th birthday.

The evening ended with Chris picking up y/n from one of his bars and driving him home. All the way the singer was just asking Chris why he hadn't wished him a happy birthday.

"You…you left me rotting like a big jerk Christopher.. Why…why did you do that? Ignoring me like that…"

Chris felt the guilt growing inside him more and more, it was not his intention to upset his lover.

" I'm sorry love…I didn't want…I just wanted to give you a birthday party but don't worry I canceled, we're going to spend the evening together with a good old Disney, just the two of us, OK ?"

And that's what they did, just the two of them, they had fallen asleep on each other, y/n not letting go of Chris and Chris not wanting to anyway.

" I love you my baby "

Chris looked up from his phone, tears streaming down his face and as he continued down the road, his phone rang announcing his best friend's name.

Chris sighed and took the call.

" Halo ?"

"Where the fuck are you, the concert is going to start any moment! Don't tell me you preferred to parade Evans?! I'm warning you-

"How is he doing?"

"Chris where the fuck are you, that's my question!"

"And I just want to know how he is! Please…"

Chris heard Sebastian sigh and he spoke again.

"Bad, he's not well at all, I told him to get back on his feet at least for this evening but I realize that it's easier said than done…he wants to impress you tonight you know…"

"It's not up to him to do it but to me…it's me who must redeem myself!"

"I agree there…well I told y/n that the reason you weren't replying to his messages was because you were driving…if he finds out we're talking WHILE you're driving he's going to kill us both, and you know that he can do it…"

Chris laughed a little bit and refocused on the road which had become much clearer.

"I have my reasons, and before you ask me, it's just that I prefer to talk to him face to face"

"maybe but that's not a reason to totally ghost him, you know?"

"I know"

omniscient pov

"Y/N you come on stage in 3…!"

Y/n felt overwhelmed by his emotions, he had received confirmation from Sebastian that Chris was on his way and maybe even already in the stadium but the singer had great doubts.

" 2...!"

He wasn't sure if he really wanted to have this conversation with the actor, he felt broken both physically and mentally and didn't know how he could manage to get over it.

" 1...!"

He wanted to run away, run away as far as possible because he was afraid that his heart would break even more than it already is. But he knew it, it was essential for him as for Chris, if this one had for goal to give up their couple to go forward.

"Go Y/n to you!"

The singer put on his most fake and beautiful smile and entered the stage while hopping and waving his hands for the audience.

"How are you tonight Boston!!"

Screams that could be heard across the country took place and y/n took his guitar specially made for him and started directly strumming the strings on a tune that his fans had never heard before, and for good reason, it was a new song that he had no intention of recording in the studio but that, given the circumstances, was very appropriate to let his feelings speak.

" OK so now, i'm gonna sing a new song that i've writen times ago and i've just finished writing it soo, here it goes !"

He gave the green light to his team and began to sing

Took you like a shot

Thought that I could chase you with a cold evening

Let a couple years water down how I'm feeling about you

Y/n was standing there, standing on the stage and letting his heart speak

And every time we talk

Every single word builds up to this moment

And I gotta convince myself

I don't want it even though I do

he walked even further to the front of the stage and looked over to the VIP area where he could see his brother and a few of his friends but no sign of Chris, Sebastian confirming that by shaking his head from side to side.

You could break my heart in two

But when it heals, it beats for you

I know it's forward but it's true

Those lyrics were probably the most obvious to everyone, that song was obviously for Chris, but he wasn't even there.

I wanna hold you when I'm not supposed to

When I'm lying close to someone else

You're stuck in my head and I can't get you out of it

If I could do it all again

I know I'd go back to you

But what Y/n didn't know is that Chris was right now in the building trying to enter the room but one of the guards was stopping him because he didn't have of a ticket.

"But you know who the fuck I am?!"

"No sir, the only thing I know is that you don't have a ticket and therefore you can't pass."

The security guard remained calm while Chris got out of his hinges, he hadn't spent more than 2 hours in his car breaking his skull on his steering wheel all that to not get in!

"Do a simple Google search and you'll see! I- please just do this search I MUST get inside! My boyfriend is waiting!!"

The guard didn't have time to answer when another guard appeared and asked what was going on.

"Sir please I have to-"

But Chris was cut off by a scream and a huge smile from the security guard who hastened to add:

"Oh my God! I can't believe it! Ms. Evans! A great honor! My son and I are big fans of your character, Captain America, too! I-! Wow!"

"But what are you doing here? You can't re-enter?! Let's go, I'll escort you to the VIP section!"

Chris didn't even have time to explain the situation before he was pulled into an endless corridor with the inscription Very Important Person on it.

After a long time of walking, going up and down the stairs, they finally arrived at their destination, this moment of walking was still very pleasant for Chris who was able to chat with Dan, the security guard turned out to be one of his biggest fan.

"We've arrived Ms Evans and thanks again for the autographs and the photo!"

"No problem! Thanks again Dan!"

Chris walked back into the room and walked straight to Sebastian who waved at him.

"Finally!! Come and settle down!"

"Where is Y/n?"

Chris looked towards the stage but couldn't find him.

"He's just there, interacting with his fans, we'll never change him!" sneered Seb while shouting and encouraging y/n who was now dancing to 'You're the one that i want'

And it was in an instant, a short but powerful instant that Y/n and Chris had eye contact. Despite the distance between them, they could both feel that warm feeling filling their hearts. Despite their differences, they could finally look each other straight in the eye and understand each other.

Chris asking for forgiveness for everything he put him through and y/n for not trying to understand him enough.

Their exchange although short did not pass through anyone, everyone noticed and shouted, Sebastian first!

"Go find him!" he whispered in her ear

"But I-"

Sebastian took his arm and pushed him out.

" Go. Join. Him. He's just waiting for that, can't you see??!"

" I- Yeah what the hell !

Everyone around him shouted with joy and Chris snuck his way backstage as best he could and that's when he ran into Dan again.

"Dan ! Thank God ! I'll need one last favor…"

"With pleasure Ms. Evans!"

------------------------------------

OMGG Finallyyy ! Again sorry for the long waiting but i had really no time to write with everyone goingon with my life ! But here ! Part 2 ! Hope you guys will like it !!

#Spotify #chris evans x male reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #x male reader #singer reader #celebrity #love #angst #sad #gay love #gay men

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george-weasleys-girl · 5 days

Text

GWG Ramblings

The Tommy Westphall Universe

Within the Harry Potter Fandom, there is a theory that the entire series was nothing more than the escapist imaginings of a severely abused Harry locked in a cupboard under the stairs. It's a theory that Rowling, when asked about it, neither confirmed it nor denied it:

"I think that’s a fabulous point, and that speaks so perfectly to the truth to the books, because I had it suggested to me more than once that Harry actually did go mad in the cupboard, and that everything that happened subsequently was some sort of fantasy life he developed to save himself."

It's a hotly contested theory among HP fans and understandably so.

And while we could argue this theory all day, there's only person who'd really know.

Tommy Westphall.

~•~

Tommy Westphall was an autistic character in the 80s medical drama, St. Elsewhere. He was a minor character, appearing in only 15 episodes.

The show centered around St. Eligius, a teaching hospital in Boston. It was a much loved and highly lauded show, running for six seasons and winning a dozen Emmys. But none of that matters. The only thing anyone cares about anymore is the final scene of the final episode.

In the scene, the medical director, Dr. Donald Westphall and his father (another doctor from the series) enter the living room where Tommy is sitting and holding a snow globe. Donald has just arrived home from work and is wearing construction-worker gear. He and his dad watch Tommy for a few moments, then Donald turns to his father and says, "I don't understand this autism thing, Pop. Here's my son. I talk to him, I don't even know if he can hear me. He sits there all day long, in his own world, staring at that toy. What's he thinking about?"

The camera then zooms into the snow globe, and inside, we see a tiny version of St. Eligius Hospital, implying that the entire series was a figment of Tommy's imagination.

Pretty wild, huh?

Well, it gets wilder.

A doctor from St. Elsewhere, Dr. Roxanne Turner was in an episode of Homicide: Life on the Street.

Not a big deal. Crossovers happen all the time. Except...

If Dr. Turner was made up by Tommy, does that mean he dreamed up Homicide too?

Then, on top of that, Detective John Munch, one of the main characters on Homicide moved to Law and Order after Homicide ended. Detective Munch went on to appear in episodes of The X-Files, Arrested Development, and The Wire.

All of which took place in the mind of one child.

But it doesn't stop there. In one episode, the doctors of St. Elsewhere went out for drinks at a local bar in Boston. The bar in question was Cheers. The Cheers. Making Cheers also one of Tommy's daydreams.

Then Cheers spun off Fraiser, which crossed over with Caroline in the City, which crossed over with Mad About You, which crossed over with Seinfeld. Further expanding Tommy's vast imaginary universe.

Now, at this point, I'm sure you're wondering how Harry Potter fits into all this.

It all has to do with the show Supernatural.

So, remember how Detective Munch from Homicide also appeared in X-Files, thus placing the infamous sci-fi show into the Tommy Westphall's ever-expanding universe?

Well, in X-Files, there is a Lariat car rental company. Later, in Supernatural's episode, "Time is On My Side," we see Lariat Car Rentals, (which btw, is also featured in Breaking Bad and Veronica Mars).

Then, in the Supernatural episode, "Regarding Dean", Rowena MacLeod, a witch, suggests using the Obliviate spell to help Dean with his memory.

The Obliviate spell, of course, comes from Harry Potter, thus indicating that the entire HP universe is just another one of Tommy's countless daydreams.

(Btw, in addition to this connection, there are two others that I haven't yet had time to research.)

- In the show Galavant, which has been linked to Tommy's universe, one of the characters, Xanax, mentions the Petrificus Totalus spell from The Philosopher's Stone.

- Then, in the Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them movie trilogy, a montage features The New York Star, the newspaper that Carrie Bradshaw worked for in Sex and the City (also a figment of Tommy's imagination.)

But that's not all. Three other newspapers are in the same montage, The New York Chronicle, The New York Gazette, and The New York Clarion.

Each of these papers has been featured in other shows and movies linked to Tommy's universe, such as:

-The Twilight Zone

-Beverly Hills 90210

-I Love Lucy

-Citizen Kane

-Growing Pains

-The Pride of the Yankees

-Felicity

-The Untouchables

...just to name a few.

To date, 419 shows have been traced back to Tommy Westphall.

And that doesn't count movie connections, which, btw, includes the entire MC Universe and the Aliens Franchise.

Let's start with the MC Universe.

In Avengers: Infinity War, we discover that Tobias Funke is part of the Collector's collection. Tobias Funke was a character from Arrested Development, which crossed over with Homicide which crossed over with St. Elsewhere.

As far as Aliens goes, it gets a little more complicated.

In St. Elsewhere, the character Dr. Mark Craig mentions that B.J. Hunicutt from the series M.A.S.H. was a former colleague.

Then, as mentioned earlier, the doctors of St. Eligius went to Cheers. One of the characters in Cheers is Fraiser, the titular character of the show Fraiser.

During his radio show, Fraiser receives a call from John Hemingway, a character from the John Laroquette Show.

The bus stop in front of the office in the John Laroquette show was built by Yoyodyne.

Yoyodyne is a client of Wolfram and Hart, a law firm featured in Buffy, the Vampire Slayer (as well as Angel, The Adventures of Buckaroo Bonzai, Star Trek, Firefly, Red Dwarf, Dollhouse and Bones).

Another client of Wolfram and Hart is Weyland-Yutani, which built weapons and ships in Aliens.

So, that means M.A.S.H., Aliens, Buffy and all the aforementioned shows and movies exist within the same universe. Tommy Westphall's universe.

So, yeah...

To quote one reddit user:

"Forget the Matrix. We're all living in Tommy Westphall's mind."

If you're curious, here is a masterlist of all the TV shows that have been traced back to Tommy Westphall.

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @kaysau2510 @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @loca4moony @whotfskai @sierraluvzz @lillisummers

#i don't know how to tag this #tommy westphall #tommy westphall universe #harry potter #supernatural #buffy the vampire slayer #mc universe #aliens #star trek #firefly #and damn near every tv show and movie ever

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blubushie · 9 days

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Hi, hope you're having a good day, here's one of my aunt's puppies and frog in a bucket

(Sorry for that last ask, I think i was tring to express a sympathy on "dealing with this thing sucks", pretty sure I fucked it completely, learned I shouldn't send asks after midnight, sorry)

OHOHOHOHOHO

And nah it's fine <3 Tbh just didn't know how to respond cuz I'm in the same boat. I was basically deported and don't have Aussie citizenship despite trying for years and living there most my life lmao. I know exactly how it goes and it's a chore. "There's no demand for shooters" suck my dick I am singlehandedly saving our natural ecosystems rn 😭

Slight rant under cut

ETA: Also I've met too many people who genuinely talked about wanting to get Australian citizenship because of TF2. Because they think Australia is just Sniper or something. Or the best country ever while ignoring the climate change/racism/housing crisis/inflation/price gouging/cost of living/inhospitability/natural disasters/etc. Australia isn't in a good state right now, most people are barely able to survive, and our middle class is practically non-existent. But people see Sniper TF2 and go "omg Aussie..." and decide they wanna be Australian for some fucking reason while literally knowing zack about the country OUTSIDE of how it's portrayed in media. Nothing of us or our culture, they think they know some slang terms or some shit and that's enough to be considered Australian. And that gets on my fucking nerves cuz I'm still tryna get citizenship cuz it's literally my home and I grew up there.

People also only do this with Sniper btw. You don't see people going "I'm gonna move to GERMANY!!" cuz of Medic, or Russia for Heavy, or Texas for Engie, or Boston, or France, or anything else. It's literally just Sniper. This fandom is fucken weird fetishy about Australia sometimes and on rougher days I genuinely wanna leave it because of it. Any time someone says they want Australian citizenship my first question is why? What do you think Australia has/can give you that your home country can't? Too many bad experiences. This goes extra double for countries on the same development scale as Australia—America, Russia, the UK, South Africa, cuz then it's obvious that it's usually more about what they think Australia is like (because of what they've seen in media) rather than them trying to seek a better life/better opportunities elsewhere.

Anyway the amount of people coming into my DMs/inbox going "how do get Aussie citizenship/immigrate" is too damn high. My brother in gaming if I knew how then I wouldn't be stuck in America. And when I know they're in the TF2 fandom it basically always leaves a bad taste in my mouth cuz my kangaboo detector goes ding. So most those asks get deleted

Sorry for the ramble. This has been on my head a while though. I've met too many people who fetishise Australia/Aussies cuz of shit they've seen in media. Hits me in that "white people seeing exotic nature of locals" bone. Australia is still a "wild land" in some people's eyes so naturally people (usually white) wanna come here and be weird about it. And it usually leads to exploitation (see: arguing with First Nations to give up land rights to built fucking houses)

Rant over I'm burnt out lol. None of this is directed at you I'm just explaining why I deleted the ask. Didn't know how to respond + my kangaboo detector went off. So I played it safe

#blu whos

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carpathianspaceprincess · 1 year

Text

Wintering (The Irish Poem) - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel reads a favourite poem of yours, and reflects on the subject's similarities to you.

Rating: E. minors dni.

Pairing: Joel Miller x SeasonalDepression!Reader (F)

Tags: Irish coded reader. a little bit of Gaeilge. One Shot. Happy Ending(™). FLUFF. Sickening fluff. Soft!Joel. Established relationship/situationship. No smut in this but could be in the future.(❀❛ ֊ ❛„). Book a dentist appointment my friends, you will probably have cavities after reading this.

CW: brief mention of suicide and overdose attempt, mentions of seasonal depression/mental illness symptoms, mention of SSRIs.

WC: 2.4k

A/N: Happy late St. Patrick’s Day! This work was inspired by an Irish poem called “Geimhriú” by Ailbhe N�� Ghearbhuigh. The translation came from this post, and I only have a little Irish but it seems right. The Irish language is beautiful and I love it dearly, so I wanted my first posted work to celebrate it (i'm terrified of sharing this btw lol). I wrote this bc culture and language is nearly always left behind and forgotten in survivalist worlds like TLOU, and it’s rarely a theme in fics, but is an essential part of survival, especially for Irish communities. I may potentially expand this work to a series to explore more aspects of Irish culture as part of the story if it's well-received and I feel like it. btw this is not beta-read and idk how to format anything - this is genuinely my first time posting so there are likely mistakes! please comment if you find one, or have constructive criticisms, and of course like/reshare and interact if you had a good time reading this, it would mean the world to this little Irish gal.

(♡ ὅ ◡ ὅ )ʃ♡ enjoy!

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊.

Even at the end of the world, in the fucking apocalypse, in this shitty, godforsaken place, you were still somehow suffering from a seasonal affliction.

Depression, that is.

Joel saw it immediately, the way you took a little longer to answer the door when he came for you in the mornings, the bags under your eyes just a little more pronounced as the days in your district grew less colourful and the dry leaves wilted to the sodden earth. He also saw how you tried to hide it and for a while, tried to respect your clear denial of something being very, very wrong.

To your credit, you did what you could; soldiered on. Ate and slept more than usual, like a bear. Before the outbreak, you’d been on Zoloft, then Wellbutrin, but the chances of any SSRI medication still existing were so slim you knew you didn’t need to bother checking.

Even so, it frustrated you every morning, the fact that you weren’t like Joel. That you couldn’t just get up and get on with your day, that you needed some stupid chemical to make your brain work just because the weather was cold and the sky was churning furiously, gnashing it's teeth on nothing but grey, day-in and day-out.

You couldn’t make sense of it. You were living in near constant poverty, under a dystopian military dictatorship and in the middle of a civil war every god-damned fucking day whether the sun was shining or not, so why did the fields being barren and slick with sleet make you viscerally despise life so much more than seeing them full of fresh flowers and humming with bees? You’d still be hungry at the end of the day. Exhausted. What should the seasons matter to you now? There was no difference. No future. Not then.

You had hoped that maybe eventually, living in constant survival mode might, y’know, actually make your brain want to survive. But it didn’t. You hated it. But what you hated about yourself most of all was the fact that you desperately needed help. It was pathetic. Weak.

Joel didn't see it that way. Well, he didn't now.

At the start he thought it hadn't been too serious. Maybe you were 'just tired'.

But then winter had nearly taken you from him that year. The sudden and shocking bone-chill of Boston post-October had him practically dragging you out of your own bed every morning for the “supply run” he had taken to bringing you along on; silently begging you to get up and keep going for his sake if not your own. Telling you if a man from Texas could survive it, you’d better get your sorry ass up and do the same.

He’d found you then, in late December, the dead of night, throwing up and barely breathing. You’d collected enough opioids to kill a horse and tried to take your own life. You’d been lucky to see the next sunrise, and that was the last time he’d allowed you to sleep on your own. And the first time he’d heard of “Seasonal Depressive Disorder”, or whatever it was.

You’d explained that before all this, you’d had medications that would have stopped this issue for you; so Joel, having then appointed your fragile well-being as his responsibility, had looked for some. But of course there was nothing. So much to everyone else's delight, he spent the winter just like you; because like two really fucked-up peas in a pod, if you were in a foul mood, Joel’s was never far behind. With the QZ being overcrowded, freezing, and insistent on working you both to the bone, you were always in a foul mood.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

So now he can admit to himself that he likes this; likes seeing the glow of your rosy, apple cheeks in the tangerine afternoon rays of a tired day. The way the sunlight dapples the colour of your hair; the lazy smile that breaks across your gentle mouth as the cool breeze caresses you both. This wheat field is completely abandoned, high bland stalks swaying quietly. The rush of the little river nearby. A perfect place to take you; you who were beaming so joyfully, could’ve replaced the goddamn sun itself as far as it concerned him.

He feels the embroidered spine of your book in his hand, holding it away from your reach. The one you always had open on the same page, the one he caught you reading when you were supposed to have your hands on your rifle and your sharp eyes looking for guards and raiders.

“Let me read it.” he grins without realizing it, stretching a little further away as your fingers grab for purchase, pointlessly. You're too short to even touch the cover as he leans over you. “No!” You reiterate, and he frowns, a finger coming to his lips to remind you of your surroundings. Still careful. “Why not, huh? Can't be that bad if y'like it so much.”

A slow blush stains you as you huff, dropping your arms to your sides. Like a petulant child. Admitting defeat.

“Fine, but it’s not even in English.”

He quirks an eyebrow at that, and keeps your gaze as he flips the faded, worn pages open to find the one he’s looking for. “You won’t understand it.” You whisper. But he doesn’t need to understand it, he just wants to see. It makes perfect sense to him that you're bilingual, he doesn't know a lot about you, but he knows you're smart, and sharp as a tack...as long as something interests you.

The paper of this page in particular is dog-eared to the point of severe damage, and marked to all hell, but it isn’t dusty at all. Whatever this is, he sees that it’s well-loved by you. Well-read. His curiosity gets the better of him as you make one last reach for the precious item and he, with ease and very quiet glee, denies you.

He doesn’t try to read it aloud though, the words roll around on his tongue unfamiliar, tangled up in the calculator of his brain that is so used to the anglo-saxon american structure of speech. But he scans it quietly all the same, to your surprise.

Ná labhair focal,

ná féach im threo,

tá duifean ar mo chroí

nách n-ardófar.

Géillim don ngeimhriú

Ní aithneofar mé

go péacadh na mbachlóg.

Ailbhe Ní Ghearbhuigh.

He clears his throat, and runs a finger along the last line of text; “This the author?”

You peer over, nodding. He hums in acknowledgement, filing the information away for later. Then he graciously hands the book back to you, brushing your fingers with his, and you snatch it away; folding it closed against your lap. A low gust of wind makes the hair that frames the sides of your face dance delicately. You lean back on your arms then, to appear relaxed. Trying not to think of the delicious electricity sparkling under your smooth skin at his touch. Failing. You're hot, now. The humidity doing nothing to cool off the desire pooling in your belly as you look up at him through thick lashes. He's chewing a thought in his mouth, you can see it.

“Gaelic?”

You are actually taken aback, but smile and shake your head good-naturedly at the attempt. “Gaeilge.”

A look of confusion crosses his brow and a laugh, golden and sugary, pours from your chest. It squeezes him with violent affection for you. “Gaelic is Scottish. This is Irish. Gaeilge.” You repeat, cocking your head. “They’re different.”

He nods slowly. He wants to ask you how you came to speak it, and is that why you have a lilt in your accent? did you come from there? From Ireland? And how did you manage to keep speaking it after the outbreak?

But, he thinks those questions can wait til later. You'll tell him your story on your own terms when you're ready, and he respects that. What he does know is that this must be important to you somehow, and he's happy to focus on that for now.

“You gonna tell me what it’s about?”

“I could...but those are meant to be read and understood in the spirit of the language they’re in. They’re not meant to be in English.” You season the last word with some disdain, teasing.

He gives you a dry look and you laugh again. Rolling his eyes and pretending to fall over, he pops back up and props his dozy head with his elbow against the coffee-brown and burgundy leaves that have scattered and broken on the ground beneath gale-swept branches. Then he waits.

You take him in in all his intensity, the way his curls ruffle against his hand. The sleeves of his shirt pushed to his elbows, muscles and tendons flexing and taut, brown in the sun and from working outdoors.

You guess you do owe him one. Reaching your free hand towards him, he turns his face into your gentle touch on his jaw, and you just about explode. How could you deny him anything when he looks like this?

“Alright,” You give in, and it feels like the easiest thing in the world.

The book opens once more, and his pretty eyes follow your slender finger against the printed words with his gaze; you feel observed; shy. And you begin, your voice unsure of itself. But his hand on your thigh is cosy, encouraging.

“Don’t say a word,

Don’t look in my direction,

There’s something on my heart

That can’t be lifted.

I give in to wintering

You won’t see me

Til the buds begin to blossom”.

“Til the buds begin to blossom.” He repeats slowly, intentionally.

“You a man of literature now, Miller?”

He exhales sharply. “Not at all, ma’am. Just a curious one.”

The corner of your lips tugs upwards at this easier side of him - and you hum as you close the book and set it down with care, next to you. You each settle against the other comfortably then, taking in the sights and scents around you. A tranquility has made home inside your bones, with the feeling of his warm front against your back and you raise your face to the rays of sun; still beaming onto you from the early evening sky. Your whole body rests now, soothed by his presence.

Comfortable silence blankets over you both, for a few minutes.

“So, d’ya like the view?” He asks all of a sudden, kicking his feet back and stretching against the massive tree he’s got you both behind - completely hidden from the view of the gate patrol. He’s been scoping this place out for weeks, he knows it’s safe.

You feel his shirt ride up against your back and it ignites something that quickly dwarfs anything mellow or peaceful inside you.

“Do I like it, Joel Miller?” You repeat incredulously, turning around and crawling onto his lap; with only a little grace. His rough, calloused hands instinctively come up to your hips, and the denim of your worn jeans suddenly feels far too tight and restrictive for the kinds of lovely, fuzzy messages your body is giving to you. You straighten up, leaning in to breathe; a faint hint of whiskey, lot of smoke. Lot of man. Yours. Your man.

Before you can unleash the teasing reply you had tucked away for him, an unwelcome thought sobers you. He notices the shadow cross your pretty face, the terrible memory flickering away in the back of your mind. Calling back to your thoughts before, you realise very abruptly that you do owe him one. In fact, you owe him your life for this very afternoon. The seeping heat on your skin and the pastel wildflowers. The gorgeous vermillion colour of the sky. The rush of contentment in your heart.

“I never would have even seen this sunset if it wasn’t for you.” You murmur, lowly enough that he has to strain to hear it. A grumble rumbles in his chest but he says nothing in reply, so you stay quiet, and take his larger hands into yours. Trying to convey how grateful you are with your touch. Hoping it'll osmosis or something. Knowing you can never repay him for his selflessness, his friendship, his sacrifices.

He clears his throat then, to get your attention, and you lock eyes with him; searching and deep. Knowing.

“You know I love it.” you whisper, appreciating the deep brown irises framed by spectacular eyelashes. The eyes you’d know absolutely anywhere. “I love it more than anything.”

You’re not talking about the view anymore.

He knows it, too; lines softening at the complete adoration on your face, the vulnerability; the way you’re giving it all to him. And he wants it even though he really shouldn’t. He wants you exactly like this for the rest of your lives. Warm and happy, tucked up next to him in some butt-fuck middle of nowhere place in the sun, tending to your garden and reading your books and your poems, unbothered by the harsh realities of the world revolving around you. Away and safe from the sickness and cruelty of the cities.

He watches carefully the radiant glow that’s touching your expression, and he can’t help but understand then, why you like that poem.

It’s you.

In moments like these, when you’re pressed up against him and smelling so sweet he feels heady and drunk, it’s much harder to shove away those very domesticated thoughts he’s been having; of you and the kind of things he wants to give you. The kind of life he wants you to have, together. Although he couldn’t tell you out loud, not yet anyway. He’s working on it.

You wonder what he's thinking about, leaning to press a soft kiss to his chin to bring him back to earth- closing your eyes at rough stubble brushing against your cheek. You feel an earth-shattering smile and wish you could see, but it’s gone by the time you raise your head again.

What you do see is a tanned arm reaching behind you to pluck something from the soft earth.

It’s a sunflower. Bright and plush and golden.

Like you, he thinks.

Firm fingers gently and deftly push your strands aside, carefully slipping the green stalk of it right behind your left ear.

Leaning back to peer at you and admire his handiwork, he tucks his hands behind his head.

He compares what’s in front of him now to his memories of last month; your face tear-tracked and pale in his bed, telling him you didn’t want to live. Him never knowing how to help you, spending those bleak evenings with fear poisoning his every thought, constantly worrying he would come back home to you cold and still. Wrapping himself tight around you in his bed late at night in the hopes he could somehow just piece it all back together by holding you. The memories the experience brought up for him; the ones fuelling his terror of failing you, like he failed her.

And now you here, surrounded by spring buds blossoming in the sweet change of the season. Wildflowers, peonies, just like you, so easily pleased by the sun and the green of the forest and the view from the top of your apartment building once the snow had begun to melt. Softened by just a little bit of warmth and a lot of love. A lot of care. He's proud of you and how hard you've worked to drag yourself out of the place you were in.

He’s suddenly finding it difficult to control the way he wants to cry with relief.

You don’t know any of this, of course. But the way he observes you so deliberately sends little shivers down your spine, despite the humidity and haze. You do feel kind of silly sitting like this though, so you reach up to pull the flower from your hair, but his fingers grip your wrist hard and fast before you can get to it and they tell you otherwise, pressing indents into your skin that you'll remember later tonight.

“Don’t.” He says softly. “I like it.”

You try to stop the grin from breaking out but fail miserably, and he's dazzled by it. One smile, and he’s completely and overwhelmingly filled with love for you.

Yes, he thinks; even at the end of the world, even in this shitty fucking place, this apocalyptic nightmare, you still somehow manage to blossom in the sun.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #tlou #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal universe #happy st paddys day #lmao #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #x reader #pedrostories #pedrohub #irish in my fics? you fucking bet

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cambridgefan11 · 1 year

Text

Btw I want to ask people, don’t you think harold and megnut are super quiet right now? Not a single pr piece, not a single pap walk or worse a scandal. This is not the case for the waleses. A whole racial scandal was created literally the day they were flying to boston. By someone who was invited by the queer herself. And then charles got all the praise for finding a solution to this while william was attacked. Before Williams words were literally changed to make it look like he said something bad for africa a few days before the Caribbean tour and then obviously organizing protests online by people who don’t even live in the said countries. Those titles weren’t given for no reason. There is 0 chance they would have kept quiet if they don’t win anything from it. It smells fishy.

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odinsblog · 5 months

Text

So I took an unexpected trip down memory lane today. Something I haven’t thought about for almost two decades…

After work, I decided to avail myself of the nearest happy hour with some acquaintances, and me being me, ofc the conversation eventually turned to politics (generally a no no for me, but what can I say - blame it on the alcohol, right?)

Someone I’ve known for some years now, a white person, abruptly asked me if I had ever seen an actual burning cross before. If I’m being honest here, my initial instinct was to be angry at them because we don’t know each other like that. We were in a large group, and while I know he didn’t intend to, it’s “innocent” questions like that that put Black people on the spot. Kinda like asking the only Black student in a classroom full of white people what their thoughts are on slavery. Don’t get me wrong, some exceptionally gifted Black people would knock that question outta the ballpark. But many of us, caught unawares, might struggle to find all the right words. Even though I’ve taken many such public speaking classes to prepare me for just such an eventuality (extemporaneous public speaking is part of my job, currently), not everyone is prepared to be an on-demand public speaker. And definitely not on such personal subjects.

Anyway, I was actually kinda vibing with the mood in the bar and I didn’t really feel like making a scene, so decided to pull my “friend” aside to answer him.

And here’s where I got dragged down memory lane.

I was in high school. I don’t remember the exact year, but it was before I graduated, so that puts it somewhere (maybe a year or two) before 2002.

I went to the great (racist) state of Alabama, and the city of Shorter, for a week long visit with my then-girlfriend and her folks. Absolutely NOTHING could have prepared me for the abject poverty I had read about but only then witnessed firsthand.

I was born in Florida. I literally have memories of walking blocks and blocks barefoot on hot asphalt to go to the nearest corner store. BUT … Imma city boy at heart. Because of my father’s job, we were constantly moving all up and down the West coast of the country. I’ve lived and gone to schools for at least a year in major metropolitan hubs like NYC, Boston, Raleigh, DC, Hartford, Philly, Atlanta, and Nawlins*, etc. When I arrived in Shorter, it was the first time I had ever seen dirt roads that were the major routes between (Black) inner cities. The very first night when I got there, THE FUCKING SHERIFF (literally the only white person I saw in my week long visit) made it a point to stop by my gf’s moms house because, “I heard we were getting a fancy out of towner here today,” and even though I wasn’t a full grown man yet, I can still remember the feeling of incredulity and utter disbelief I had in those few minutes of being interrogated by the mf sheriff, who btw, arrived at my gf’s moms house with his lights on and sirens blaring. If you’re wondering, yes, he was white, and if I had to do a sketch of him today, it would look EXACTLY like the sheriff from that old tv show with Bo, Luke and Daisy Duke. “Dukes of Hazard,” I think.

And later that evening, the first time I had to go to relieve myself, I asked my hosts where the bathroom was, half asleep , the youngest brother, a kid of about 9 or 10, took me by the hand, led me to the back door, and pointed into the darkness at some weird looking treehouse a few yards from the house’s back door—except there was no tree and whatever it was that I was looking at was on the ground. I said, “No, where is your BATHROOM?,” and still half asleep, again he pointed at the weird looking tree house and said, “That’s it.”

I walked out, still not knowing exactly what to expect when I got closer to whatever it was in their backyard, and when I got close enough to recognize the smell, I stopped dead in my tracks … was this … waitaminute … is this an OUTHOUSE??!! I held my nose and cautiously opened the door, and sure enough, yes: it really was an outhouse. Like for real. In real life. I didn’t want to be rude, but there was no fucking way in hell I was going to take a dump in an outhouse. I went back to the house and awkwardly asked if there was another bathroom, and I was a little bit amused when he said, “Yeah, if you want, I can walk you over to the neighbor’s house and you can use their outhouse.” It turned out that everyone in the hood had outhouses.

I’m not sharing this to dunk on Alabama, it’s just what happened and it was all incredibly jarring for me. Shorter, Alabama was incredibly poor at the time, and there was no possible way for me to be prepared for all of the abject poverty I witnessed firsthand. And, lol, it’s not like I grew up wealthy or anything. But this was the norm for where I was visiting. I would later learn that my gf’s mom sent her daughter to Florida literally for a better life that she couldn’t provide her. My gf lived in Florida with her (comparatively) “very wealthy” aunt and uncle, who lived in what was essentially one step up from the projects. Truly some heartbreaking shit. I was humbled, but this experience gave me perspective like no history book could ever do.

AND YET …… I was a young teenaged boy, who was far away from home with his girlfriend, who I believed I would one day marry, so I somehow managed to brush almost all of that aside, because while my gf’s mom had to work double shifts at the dog track, we were assigned a chaperone—and he was literally thee coolest older cuz’n everrrr. He went out of his way to make sure my gf and I had enough time alone to make out pretty much whenever the mood struck us! Things were a little rougher than I had anticipated, but the time I had alone with my gf made it worth everything.

And then one night, Cuz’n Feaster (yes, that was his real name) took us to a hole in the wall bar. Don’t worry, he didn’t take us inside or give us liquor or anything, he just went inside for about an hour and left two teenaged virgins COMPLETELY alone in the backseat of his Chevy. FOR AN HOUR!!!

And when I tell you that we went all the way, I mean we went ALL the way—to third base!! Hands everywhere exploring everything, heavy kissing and making out! WITHOUT ANY SEX. (We were both two good little Pentecostal kids who had taken a stupid “purity” pledge, what did you expect?)

HA! But I will never forget that night though. I can still hear “Do Me Baby,” by Prince playing on the radio. Good times, man.

But I was telling you about the first time I saw a burning KKK cross, right??

So when cuz’n Feaster finally came out of the “club,” it was super late and dark outside. I remember him and my gf laughing at me because my neck was craned up looking out the window like a dog with the window rolled down. There were absolutely no lights outside on the road. No streetlights, no road lights, no house lights, no nothing except for the headlights and the stars above. I couldn’t believe all the stars I could see. I even recognized part of the Milky Way. It was an amazing sight. An amazing ride home. And an amazing way to top off an amazing night.

I was young, I was in love, I was happy and holding my girl’s hand, the stars were out, and just… Everything was perfect. Perfect.

And that’s when we started getting closer and closer to …. something?? Burning in the middle of an open field? As we got closer and closer, for the second time on my trip, my eyes and my brain recognized what I must be seeing, but my mind couldn’t comprehend or accept what it was: an enormous burning cross in a field, with men in white pointy hoods. It was the Klan!! I couldn’t fucking believe it. This was something that I knew and understood existed, but that was supposed to be history book stuff, right? I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

“Feaster, is that…”

-The Klan? Yup, that’s them. Leave them alone, and they’ll leave you alone.

Pfft! I scoffed. Messing with Black people who aren’t fucking with them is pretty much their job description.

And he and my gf were sO fucking calm about it. They acted like they saw that shit every day and twice on the weekend. BUT MY BLACK ASS WAS FREAKING THE FUCK OUT.

“Feaster, we’re all Black! What if-”

-Calm down. They do that all the time. And even if they wanted to, nobody can catch me in this car.

And my only thought was, we’re all gonna get lynched and die because this fool thinks his car is faster than bullets. We had to drive RIGHT BY that cross. I know it was probably my imagination working triple time, but it looked like it was 100 feet tall. It was less than a football field away, and that cross was burning so bright that it turned nighttime into daylight, disappeared all the stars, and I could very clearly see men in white robes holding guns. I was fucking terrified. Talk about sights you won’t ever forget. And Idk why, but the fact that Feaster and my gf were so damn calm about it just really added that extra something to my freaking out. It was unnerving af.

Me and my gf caught the bus back home to Florida the next day, but yeah, that was the first (but not the last) time I had ever seen a KKK cross before. Such a mix of emotions, that night was.

#a post about me #kkk #klu klux klan

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