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#compilation of very good pictures
etchif · 1 year
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you-are-constance · 2 years
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I MADE ORCHESTRA OFFICERS !
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winter-skye · 2 years
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Anyway please look at Sweet Potato
I love her
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cryptotheism · 2 months
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How many languages do you speak?
You are always talking about alchemist that lived all around the world in very differente time periods. And you have mentioned several times that there's a ton of numerology hidden in their texts, counting syllables and letters of certain words and paragraphs. So one would assume you need to read them in the original language it was written, right?
That's a really good question! As with most really good questions, the answer is "kinda, it depends!"
So! Most alchemical texts are written in some form of coded language, but the nature of that code depends on the era and culture the text is being written in. Depending on how its written, modern scholars have a lot of different tools for cracking open alchemical esoterica.
Most ancient Greek/Byzantine texts are written in postclassical Greek. But, they're often written in dense philosophical prose. The reader needs to be familiar with the likes of Plato, Aristotle, and the early Neoplatonists, to make sense of them. Luckily for us, people have been studying postclassical Greek for nearly 2000 years. There are many excellent translations into English.
Late Egyptian alchemists wrote almost entirely in pictograph code. Not as in hieroglyphics, mind you. Egyptian alchemical recipes often made use of custom character sets and symbols that represented alchemical concepts. (One famous example, the Formula of the Crab, uses a complex diagram that looks like a centipede to represent a particular gold compound.) These are damn near impossible to read without expert help.
At the same time, Jewish and Syriac writers of the era could get by on the fact that not everyone could read Hebrew and Syriac lol. The language barrier itself acted as a sort of copyright system for protecting their ideas. Luckily for us, many of these texts were preserved and translated by medieval Arab scholars!
Speaking of Arabic, once you hit the Islamic Golden Age, the amount of alchemical literature increases by a factor of ten. Thing is, the Islamic Polymaths weren't all that interested in obscuring their work. The Islamic Golden Age was all about copying and translating older works, and compiling them into big textbook/dictionaries. They're not intentionally encoded, they're comparatively easy to read once you get a good translation. Thing is, you gotta know your Neoplatonism. Medieval Islamicate scholars love Neoplatonism.
Then we get the reintroduction of alchemy to Europe around the 10th century. What you get is about 400 years of monks painstakingly translating medieval Arabic into Latin. A lot of these texts are very well preserved, and have good translations into English.
Then, around the late 14th century, European entrepreneurial alchemy kicks into high gear, and THIS is where we get all those fancy numerology encoded alchemical texts. Renaissance alchemists loved themselves some puzzles. This would be fine if they were all just writing in Latin, but the printing press meant they could write in any damn language they please. You get a lot of French, German, Dutch, Italian, and antiquated English alchemical texts, and they can be a bitch to read without help.
BUT the introduction of the printing press also gave us something useful: cheap picture books! Late renaissance alchemists loved writing in word games and coded metaphor, but they also loved including esoteric diagrams. And the thing about esoteric diagrams is --if you know your stuff-- you don't need to speak 15th century french to read a picture. Which isn't a replacement for reading the original translation, not even close, but the explicit purpose of these images was to prove to other alchemists that the author knows what they're talking about. So if you can read them, you can get a damn good sense as to what the text is about.
This was fun to write so I'm gonna plug my patreon if you wanna see me write more about alchemy.
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caputvulpinum · 1 year
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Hello/good morning, new people. Thanks for stopping by. I got a couple hours of sleep and I'm probably going to spend all day today working more on the Blanche Appleton case.
Here's where the story currently stands:
-Blanche Appleton, at first, appears to be a hoax invented by Kikkoman, possibly to appear prestigious and influential during the postwar occupation of Japan. There is shockingly little (i.e. apparently none) evidence of her existence outside of sources citing back to Kikkoman.
-After further investigation, signs right now are pointing to Blanche Appleton being a real individual working in the Economic and Scientific Bureau of the General Headquarters at the time. However, there are still many questions I want to find answers to.
-In a picture on Kikkoman's website, a woman stated to be Blanche Appleton is standing next to a clan head, Toshihiro Shoda, who was involved in Shoda Shoyu, a current shoyu brewery. Kikkoman would be put on trial for price fixing and found guilty along with three other major breweries, and would be subject to trustbusting and apportioning of assets due to it.
-Shoda Shoyu inherited Kikkoman assets during the dispersal, profiting off of the trustbust. But if so, why would Kikkoman have let him into one of their main factories as an apparent honored guest alongside Appleton? What is his relationship to Appleton and this story as a whole?
-Right now I'm trying to get all my current information composited/compiled, along with where I've found it. After that, I've started investigating the history of zaibatsu and yakuza clan organizations in businesses. I want to see if I can't track connections from the antitrust actions taken against Kikkoman directly to organized crime, or if I can't find implications of pseudo/semilegal methods used to ensure Kikkoman didn't truly get busted.
I'm grateful to everyone for their interest, and I promise I will keep all of you updated as things come; your involvement has been important as well. I'm very grateful to have such a dedicated audience to call on for help. I would prefer not to contact any third party investigative youtuber-type deal; this is something I want to be my own. If you'd like to support me during this time, my pinned post has some information for paying me--I'm currently a college student and goin through a real rough patch trying to get food on my table, so some coins in the tip jar would be the best way to allow me to encourage myself to keep on this story.
Once I decide on a properly appropriate name for all of this, I'm going to start tagging all my posts/additions about this with that name, that way people can follow the tag to get more reliable notifications about new developments.
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leclsrc · 6 months
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wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1
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genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...
word count: 3.6k  
It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this
auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie
It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 
To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.
The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—
“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.
His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”
“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.
You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 
“What about Max?”
Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”
“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.
“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”
“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”
The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.
Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.
His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.
OK, nice. Did u need something?
No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?
Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.
I thought we agreed no contact unless business
He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.
Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.
Yeah. Got a drink.
I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.
How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.
Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit
Yeah? I missed you today.
Really?
A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.
He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?
You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 
So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.
The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.
And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.
It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.
I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.
He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.
So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.
He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.
In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.
He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.
The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.
He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.
You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.
Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.
His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”
One week later
“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”
The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.
You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 
Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.
“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”
You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”
“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”
“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”
“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”
“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”
“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”
He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”
“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.
“Wanna test that out? Come play.”
Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.
“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.
“You got it wrong. Teaching.”
He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.
If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.
You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?
You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.
Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.
“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.
You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—
“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.
“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.
“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.
“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.
“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.
“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 
“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.
“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.
“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”
“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.
“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.
It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 
He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.
“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”
“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.
“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 
“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”
“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 
“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”
His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.
“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 
Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.
“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.
“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 
You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.
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fuxuannie · 10 months
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↳ pairing : (seperate) miles morales & pavitr prabhakar x g-neutral reader
↳ synopsis : "i think i'm inlove.." "congrats, you're the last person to know."
↳ authors note : requests by @junipershrubs & @magicdefendorwolf !! i hope you both enjoy !! sort of crack & fluff ??? this isnt super srs just some cute shenanigans :)
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Way before Miles became Spiderman, you and him were a pair that couldn't be seperated. Your parents were very close with Miles' parents, leading to various different playdates and meetings with your newfound friend at the time.
Even as kids, Mr and Mrs Morales plus your parents knew something was going to happen between you two when you'd get older. Whether good or bad, it was the way little Miles looked at you and continues to look at you with was something else. That little smile of absolute adoration when he sees you shine was never seen when it came to anyone else, just you, always you.
So he's confused when his parents exchange knowing glances, a smile on his mothers face and a proud one on his fathers. "So.. you're okay that I'm inlove with (name)...?"
"Miles, we knew long before you did."
"What."
He blinks a few times in disbelief, looking at Jeff who nods in confirmation. "Like.. since diapers. It was very very obvious." Miles watches as he walks over to a baby album, one that he hadn't recognized. It wasn't as big as the other ones he had seen before, but it definitely had a lot of pictures. "We were preparing for this moment."
You can imagine his confusion when the first page reads; "How Miles looks at them."
You can also imagine how embarassed he gets when he realizes its a compilation of photos of him looking at you with that love-struck expression he's always had.
"THAT'S HOW I LOOK AT (name)?!" Miles squeaks, in utter disbelief as his father chuckles at his expression. "For years, that's how you've looked at them. Have you seriously not noticed??" Jeff says curiously, raising a brow as he closed the book.
"..N-no? I guess.. I guess I really have been inlove with them all this time."
Rio softly ruffles his hair, still smiling all the while. "Congratulations! You're the last person to know, mi hijo."
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PAVITR always thought his affection for you was simply platonic but was completely clueless to his romantic feelings since he thought of you as 'an amazing friend that I'd love to spend my whole life with'
At some point, during a conversation with Hobie and Gwen, the topic shifts to the relationship of him and you.. mostly on how you're doing.
"Oh! Me and (name) are doing great! Actually, their beauty continues to blossom more and more everyday! Their laugh is still as sweet as a song, and their smile?? It's like they get prettier every time I see them!"
Hobie blinks in disbelief, the biscuit in Gwens mouth fell out because of how her jaw that could've probably fall to the floor if it was possible.
"...You guys are just friends, right?"
"Do we seem like something else?"
Pavitr seems just as stunned as the two of them, and Hobie chuckles and puts his hand on his best friends shoulders.
"A'right, Pav. You're really feelin' nothin' a little.. special for this lil friend of yours?" He raises a brow, watching the indian Spiderman nod his head.
"Nooothin'?"
"Nothing! Nothing super strange anyway."
"So if they were to ask you to date 'em right now, would you decline?"
"No! I like them quite a lot so I'd say that-"
Hobie looks him dead in the eye, squeezing his shoulder to cut him off and a dead serious look as he wants Pavitr to reflect on his answer.
"You...?"
"Like them!"
...
"...Ohhhhh."
"This madlad..."
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carolmunson · 1 year
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let's go, don't wait (e.m. x f!reader)
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inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, some sexual themes. some discussions of bad parents. eddie had some sad parts of his childhood. all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (11k) eddie is 32, reader is 30. so older!reader i guess, idk. i already started writing the part two which is almost entirely smut.
Jingle. Click. Creak. “Mmmm.” Eddie knows that groan anywhere, the deep primal urging of a one Gareth Emerson and the giggles of his girlfriend, Tatianna Edwards. They stumble into the apartment, lips attached, hands grabbing and fisting each other’s layers from the cold. 
“Hi guys,” he calls out, his tone was as bored and annoyed as he hoped it would be. His eyes don’t leave the TV, transfixed on the screen while he watches another YouTube compilation of the best guitar solos of all time. He disagrees with most of them, but it’s enough to drone on in the background while he scrolls through his Twitter feed. He’s never even posted. Not once. Not even a picture on his profile. 
“Hi Ed,” Tati chirps, clicking the side table lights on. He can smell her Chloe perfume when she comes to give him a hug hello. Her arms wrap around him from behind the couch, cheeks touching, a few of her butterfly twists falling forward over his shoulder. 
“Did you stay in tonight?” she asks, pressing a glossy smooch to his cheek. “Sure did,” he huffs, arms crossing over hers in a semblance of an embrace. Her gold bracelets are cool against his skin, her gold rings match his silver ones. He thought when Tati entered the picture that he and Gareth would’ve started to drift apart. Instead, Tati became Eddie’s new best friend – Gare really took ‘date the girl version of Eddie’ to heart. They were two peas in a pod. “You should’ve come out, there were a lot of single girls there – you’re a good dancer, you coulda snagged one,” she sounds like a mother trying to set him up. Eddie tilts his head up and looks at her from below, her deep skin shimmering with the glitter fallout from her eye makeup. She always looks pretty with ease, even with her makeup smudged – like she meant to do that. 
“Oh, I’m sure,” he smiles tightly, but the look falls to something soft when Tati lets go and her almond shaped manicured nails rake gently over his scalp through his conditioned curls.  “You can’t just keep picking up girls from shows, dude,” Gareth chides playfully, coming around the couch to sit next to him, “They’re starting to get waaaay too young for you at the bars.”
“Yeah, perv,” Tatianna teases, ruffling his hair before curling up on the recliner closer to the TV.
“Can we please not talk about this again,” Eddie sighs, sinking further into the cushions. He presses on his eyes with the heels of his hands, “You do this every time you guys come back from a date.”
“We gotta get you on Hinge, or something,” Gareth says.
“Tinder at the very least,” Tatianna follows.
“Okay, I’m going to bed,” Eddie grunts when he gets up, a little dizzy at the speed before he finds his footing, “Don’t be too loud tonight.”
“Just trying to help!” Tati calls out, “You deserve to be too loud at night, too!”
Eddie sucks his teeth before he turns the corner to the hallway, disappearing for the night while his friends fell more in love. 
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It feels like they’re disassembling a bomb. Eddie sulks in a seat at the kitchen table while Robin, Steve, Nancy, and Gareth chatter behind him. Jeff and his wife sit across from him with just as much excitement as the group opposite them. Eddie frowns, bangs too long over his eyes, hands sweating onto the back of his banged up stickered phone case.
“I think you should put the picture of the guitar last, it doesn’t have your face in it. I’d swipe past you,” Robin points at the screen in front of him while he tries to make sense of his Hinge profile. 
“Well you’re a whole lesbian Rob, so you’d swipe past me anyway,” Eddie’s clipped words make the group laugh instead of making them back off. His shoulders sink immediately. This was mortifying.
“She’s right though,” Steve pipes up, “They’ll think you’re some weirdo who's obsessed with his guitar if you — well, actually then maybe it’s fine…” 
“Why don’t you—” Jeff starts.
“You’re married and you’ve been with Alycia since 2014. Your opinions are void,” Eddie interrupts with a sigh. 
Jeff lets out a laugh from his broad smile, “Look, I’m just saying. Why don’t you focus on your answers to the questions rather than the pictures? Girls love stuff like that. You’re smart, you’re a good writer.” 
“Babe, they’re not gonna care about his answers if the first picture they see is of an out of focus guitar taken on an iPhone 4S,” Alycia cocks her head at Jeff, “Like, at least be honest with him.” 
“I know you’re squinting in that picture from Jeff’s wedding but maybe you can put that one first,” Nancy points to the screen and then scrolls down a little. It lands on a photo of Jeff and Eddie, both sweating from the night's activities. His dress shirt is unbuttoned half way down his chest, silver chains and tattoos on full display, tie tied around Jeff’s forehead like a makeshift Rambo. 
“Yeah, you look really good in it,” Robin agrees. 
“Wait, wait, wait!” Tati shuffles into the kitchen, “I got in touch with the photographer from the show two weeks ago at Wraith Bar and he’s sending me some pictures.” 
“You can use the six pictures you’re tagged in from the last three years,” Tatianna scolds, “You look like a bum in them.” 
The group frowns and tosses glances at each other, it’s true. The more recent pictures they had of Eddie were far and few between. He was either blinking or off to the side, blurry or ducking out of frame. Every picture where he looks like himself was either from a show or had Chrissy in it, and he deleted all of those three years ago.
“Stop, you look so fine in these,” Tatianna squeals, “The girls are gonna love you.” Everyone but Eddie huddles around Tatianna to scroll through the pictures. Some of him mid shred with sweat pouring down his chest. Some of him screaming into the mic, hair wild and wet around his face. There was one, that he begrudgingly really liked, where his head leaned back into the light with a winning Munson smile. It was when he heard the opening drums to cover ‘The Immigrant Song’ as a gag – but not really a gag ‘cause he loves that song. It gets everyone at the bar pretty excited – even if they only know the song from School of Rock. 
Eventually, Eddie isn’t even holding his phone, it’s being passed between Tati, Steve, and Robin while he dictates his answers to stupid questions. By the time his profile is finished, his head is hidden in his mass of curls, resting his forehead on his forearms at the table. 
“Are we done now?” he asks into the space between his face and the woodgrain. Despite the winter air flowing through the kitchen window, he’s overheated with embarrassment. There are suddenly too many people around, too much talking, too much giggling at his expense. He tilts his head back up and takes a full breath through his nose and out through his mouth – “Oh shit! You matched with someone!” “How? I didn’t even look at anyone yet,” Eddie’s brows furrow while his head slowly comes to center. “Don’t worry about it, dingus,” Robin chides, “Just talk to her.” Eddie takes the phone and looks at her profile. Rachel, 27, Vet tech. She’s pretty, soft eyes, great smile. He swallows thickly before he goes to his ‘Matches’ and types three letters that felt like they took ten years to write: Hey.
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The chats start fast and die faster, some flirty banter here and there before he’s too nervous or quickly bored. His heart squeezes every time he gets a notification, a buzz in his pocket, a reminder of a message. Some girls don’t want a relationship and that’s fine, that’s just not what he’s looking for. Some girls ask the big questions first and he can’t answer right away. Some girls just aren’t his type and he isn’t theirs either. 
The first date he goes on ends with her excusing herself to the bathroom before they even get to order dinner. She doesn’t come back — he’s not even sure what he did. It started off fine, she was pretty with blonde hair and blue eyes. Fun and easy conversation, a voice that sounded like powder puffs and sugar scented perfume. If he blurred his vision a little, she could’ve been Chris. But she wasn’t Chris. 
Maybe that’s why she left. Maybe she got the vibe that he was preoccupied with her looking like his ex. 
Maybe it was because he said, ‘You remind me so much of my ex-wife,’ before they got to order dinner. 
His second date wasn’t much better. He was proud of himself for not going for another Chrissy look alike, but it was clear that this new girl was on a hunt for a husband. 
“So are you planning on getting the tattoos removed?” she had asked, pursing her red lips. He was surprised at how well her lipstick stayed on after eating a pasta dish. Whenever he wears makeup for a show, it smudges before the lights come up. 
“Uh, no why?” he asked.
“Just y’know, thinking ahead — family photos and whatever,” she shrugged. His mouth had never run so dry in his life. The chicken alfredo turned in his stomach. 
The third ended up being a quickie in the bar bathroom only for her to leave right after and unmatch him without as much as a ‘Thanks for a good night!’ He at least wanted to be a gentleman about it. 
The fourth fizzled out and neither of them felt the connection. 
The fifth felt weird because they had talked so much on the app that they didn’t have anything left to talk about when they went out for drinks. 
A month had gone by and all he had to show for it was five bad dates and dozens of unanswered chats. Eddie was found sitting in his bed in the dark, only the light on his phone keeping him illuminated while he thumbs through Instagram. Another app that he has for no reason, he never posts, he never shares anything. He just scrolls.
He wonders if Chrissy’s on Hinge. Eddie’s stomach lurches at the thought of coming across her profile. All blonde and blue eyes, all sweet and spunky, all the right answers to her curated questions. Photos of her in the Maldives, in her friend’s weddings, of her in Chicago after she moved. His heart hammers, sweat collects on his bare chest, heating up the chain lying flat against it until it sticks. He quickly swipes out of Instagram to his home screen, a photo of Robin and Steve flipping him off from the stage after a Corroded Show during load out. He holds his thumb on the app until all the apps shake, thumb hovering over the ‘x’ on the corner to delete the Hinge for good. 
What’s another three years of being single? 
“Ed?” he hears Tati on the other side of the door, her soft knock following her voice, “I got Indian and I’m not gonna eat it all. Gare doesn’t want it, you want it?” 
“Yeah, sure,” he hums. She opens the door and sighs at the darkness. He squints as the light pools in from the hallway and sees her lean her shoulder against the door frame.
“Are you in here sulking?” she asks, one brow raising.
“Yeah, Tat, I’m in here sulking,” he groans, laying flat on his mattress, “I like to sulk. Let me sulk.” 
“Don’t sulk,” she puts on a pout and flicks his light on, leaving the containers of rice and chicken saag. He groans when the light stings his eyes, tossing a forearm over his face. 
“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice falling into kindergarten teacher territory. She never realized her profession would come so handy living with two grown men, “Why’re you being such a baby in here?” 
“I think I’m gonna delete the app,” he murmurs, still hiding under the protection of his tattooed arm. The pressure feels good on his face, releasing the tension starting to brew behind his eyes. He hadn’t eaten since his lunch period at work, the hunger was starting to catch up to him. 
“Don’t delete it,” she shakes her head, crawling onto the end of his bed. She takes her twists out of her jumbo claw clip and readjusts to pull them all back away from her face. Tati eases his phone out of his hand and slides her glasses on, flinging his dead arm off his face to use his Face ID. He whines, face scrunching is disapproval.
“I told you to stop doing that,” Eddie complains, sitting up against his pillows before crawling out of bed to get the food waiting on his dresser, “Do you have any naan or…?” 
“Do I look like a food bank, Munson? Damn,” she tilts her head and he raises his brows in a silent ‘Well, do you?’
She sighs deeply, “Yes, I have extra naan but you can only have it if you don’t delete the app and eat with us in the living room.” 
“Those are two totally different asks, Tati,” Eddie huffs. 
“I don’t make the rules,” she shrugs before starting to laugh, “Actually, I totally do.” 
The phone buzzes in her hand and Tatianna’s grin only widens when she sees the notification, “You have a new like.” 
“Whatever,” he shrugs, face laced with disappointment and frustration, “It’s gonna be another dud. Why bother if there’s no point? Like, this can’t actually be how people meet each other —“ 
Tatianna opens her mouth to protest but Eddie interrupts his own thought before she can speak, “You and Gareth are the anomaly.” 
“What if the sixth time’s a charm? She looks really cute,” She smiles, teeth bright against her smile, cheekbones glistening where her moisturized skin hits the light. 
He rolls his neck and sighs while Tatianna continues to encourage him, “Just try. You owe yourself that. Chrissy wouldn’t—.”
“Fuck Chrissy, Tat,” Eddie’s voice raises slightly, suddenly defensive. His chest burns at the sound of her name, heat rising up through his neck to his face,  “I don’t really give a fuck what Chrissy would and wouldn’t want. ‘Cause if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have to be on these stupid fucking apps.” 
“Whew, tell me how you really feel Ed,” she says while she stands up off the bed to walk towards him.
“Look, I get you’re still mad about how things went down with Chris. I know you’re still hurting, but you’re denying yourself a chance to start over — just shoot this girl a message. She seems cool,” Tati speaks so gently to him that he soothes instantly. She offers his phone, still open on the new profile — he’s hesitant at first but he takes it from her to look at the screen. 
There you are. You are cute. Your profile is simple: your name, age thirty, your opening tagline ‘idk i’m just out here i guess’. He lets a puff of air out of his nose at the sentiment — ‘Same,’ he thinks. 
“Fine,” he says finally, “I’ll look through her stuff and I’ll message her. Are you happy?” 
“Thrilled,” she smiles, “So thrilled that I’ll even let you have the extra samosa.” 
He follows her out of the room with his phone and food in hand, looking at her fondly when she passes him a tinfoil covered piece of naan in the kitchen, “You’re my best fucking friend, dude.” 
“I thought I was your best friend?” Gareth pouts from the kitchen table, D&D notes littered in front of him. 
Eddie scrunches his nose, tilting his head while he considers, “You’re alright I guess.” 
When the food is done and he’s gotten a proper look at your profile he decides to bite the bullet — fingers shaking while he matches back with you. He doesn’t start with ‘hey’ this time because Robin and Steve said that was boring, so he tries something new: 
wild that you’re just ‘out here’, me too. 
lol, twin behavior. how’s your night?
Eddie’s heart hammers at the response. He’s surprised at the reaction, he hadn’t had that with any of his other chats, normally expecting them to die off after the first ‘Hey, how are you?’ pleasantry. But maybe this could be different, maybe this could be fun. 
scored some indian food from one of my roommates so it’s one of my better nights. 
ooh, i’m so jealous. i have buyers remorse from some baked ziti i ordered. should’ve just made it.
what did you get?
chicken saag, still jealous?
i’m more of a saag paneer girl but consider me over here seething.
Eddie grins into the phone, cheeks hot while he thinks about what to say back. He skims over your profile again, eyes stilling at a photo of you laughing on what looks like a cruise deck. The sun hits you like a golden streak across your eyes. The caption reads ‘the last time i felt a single shred of genuine happiness’, he huffs an airy giggle before going back to the chat. 
you’re funny, did you know that?
um ya, i’m the funniest person i know, actually. 🥰
that's crazy cause i’m the funniest person i know. and since now i know you, it’s looking like we gotta battle for who the funniest is.
Jesus fucking Christ Munson, why can’t you just be normal? Why can you just say ‘lol’ and call it a night? He frets. His leg bounces while he waits for your reply, food rolling in his stomach. The cool metal of his rings is welcomed on his warm cheeks while he leans against his hand on the arm of the couch. The few minutes he waits for the buzz of his phone feel like eternities. But there you are to save him from his embarrassment:
lmao okay. where did you wanna battle?
there’s a bar in the city that i think could host. you around tomornight?
tommorow night* sorry, fuck, i was trying so hard to be smooth with it.
TOMORROW***** FUCK. LET ME LOG OFF FOR ETERNITY REAL QUICK.
yiiiiikes! embarrassing. but this proves you actually might be funnier than me. i’m not a sore loser so i’ll go on a date with you if that’s what you’re asking.
do you drink? it doesn’t have to be a bar.
i do! where did you have in mind?
there’s a spot called little spoon saloon in the city if you’re familiar. sorta cozy.
oh yeah sounds great for a battle 🙄
but yeah i know it, that’s not too far from my place. maybe we’ve seen each other before and never known it. two ships passing in the night~*
does seven work for you? i know it’s a monday, so we can do earlier if you gotta be up early or something.
sevens fine :)
okay :)
:)
:)
see ya tomorrow! Eddie bites his lower lip, breathing steadily through his nose while he sends over his number. Anything to get out of looking at the app for at least another day, anything to spare him from potentially running into Chrissy’s profile despite her being in a different state. It was getting close to the holidays, she could be around at any moment. 
Before he can spiral, his phone buzzes again – this time a text from an unknown number. His grin widens, too caught up in the excitement bubbling in his chest to feel Tatianna’s stare from the recliner. hi, it's me. jsyk if you don't reach out by like, two tomorrow -- i'm considering it a cancellation and i do have a 50% cancellation fee. sorry! 
50%? stop selling yourself so short, kid. but don’t worry, i won’t cancel. no? you’re not scared to battle? i’m never scared of a battle. :) (A lie.) see you tomorrow. 
“What’s got you smiling like that?” Tatianna smiles, cheeks tight from being unable to hide her excitement. “Are you talking to a girrrrrl?” Gareth teases. Eddie let’s out a ‘tssss’ while he stands up and stretches, quirking a brow at his best friend. “Is it a girl? You takin’ her out?” he asks again. “Yeah G, it’s your mom,” he shrugs, “Night y’all.” “Ed,” Tati whines, “Come on.” Pink floats across his cheeks, itching his nose to hide his goofy smile behind his hand. “Yeah, it’s a girl. And yeah, I’m taking her on a date tomorrow,” he groans. Tatianna squeals, shimmying with giddiness while the recliner rocks with her. Eddie’s too caught up in hiding his face, “Ugh, she’s cuuuute, Tati, what am I supposed to do?” 
“Show her what she’s been missing,” Tati shrugs, “Everyone needs an Eddie.” 
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Last night, Eddie fell asleep caught in a memory that became a dream. He’s eight years old at the YMCA, Wayne sitting in the stands watching him – this is maybe two weeks after his dad dropped him off before he got sent to prison. Wayne wanted to make sure his schedule stayed the same as it could, so Saturday swim lessons it was – today was diving off the block. Eddie had been dreading this lesson for a month, knowing that level 2.5 meant you had to at least try. In level two, they had you stand on the block just to get used to it. He could barely breathe for the ten seconds it was up there, tears stinging his eyes while his teacher encouraged him to come closer to the edge. Three of his classmates had already asked if they were allowed to jump off. It looked fun but it was just so high up. What if it hurts? What if he landed the wrong way? He was up soon, standing behind the block with the rest of the kids, shivering from being out of the water. He could dive off the edge of the pool just fine – in fact, his teacher said he was a great diver, especially for an eight year old. So it should be no problem to dive off the block, he just had to do the same thing he always does. Just higher. 
Gareth, before Gareth was his best friend, climbs up the block and puts his feet at the edge of the white plastic and metal. His teacher, Miss Tiffany, tells him to put his arms up and bend his knees and to dive at the whistle. The whistle blows and Gareth leaps – but he doesn’t dive smoothly into the water. 
“BELLY FLOP!” Jason Carver yells from the edge of the pool where all the kids who already dove sat. They start teasing him relentlessly, Miss Tiffany helping him out of the water to inspect his red belly. Tears well up in Gareth’s eyes, his mom leaning over the bannister from the seating area. “Are you okay, baby?” she asks. Gareth burns red with embarrassment, only encouraging the cackling kids to get crueler. 
Miss Tiffany puffs her whistle three times, “If you tease again, you’re not allowed to go to free swim. Do you understand me?” 
The group quiets, slowly kicking their feet in the water. “Alright Eddie, you’re up next!” 
He gulps, climbing up on the block slowly before standing to full height with his eyes closed. He takes a deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth, like his Uncle Wayne taught him to do when he was feeling nervous. When Eddie’s eyes opened, a chill ran through his chest – for some reason the block seemed higher than ever. 
“Ready Freddie?” Miss Tiffany asked, treading water in her red bathing suit. She grinned up at him, knowing that the phrase always made him giggle – but not today. 
“Arms up, knees bent,” she continues. Ed looks down at the water and the room spins, he can hear Jason and the class giggling. Hear the splashes from the kicks of their feet. 
The whistle blows. He doesn’t move. The whistle blows, again. He puts his arms down. “You okay, Eddie? You can do it! You’re a great diver!” she cheers. 
Eddie chews on his lower lip, thinking about the smack of the water when it hit Gareth’s stomach. The laughter. The teasing. The potential of the pain. The whistle blows again. Eddie climbs down off the block, sniffling when he makes it back to the pool deck, “I don’t want to Miss Tiffany.”  
“C’mon Ed, I know you can do it! Do you want me to save you for last?” she asks, her smile still bright and encouraging. Eddie sniffles again, eyes burning with tears while Jason and his friends start to tease him, too. “Swimming sucks,” he bites, stomping towards the boys room, grabbing his ratty towel off one of the benches on the way in. He’s only in the locker room for a few minutes before he hears the door open and Wayne’s apologetic voice talking to Miss Tiffany from the deck floor.
“He’s just goin’ through a lot right now,” Wayne says, his gruff voice rattling off the metal of the room. 
“Eddie?” Tiffany’s voice calls. 
“Come out here, son,” Wayne calls, “Y’know, if your decent.”  
Eddie sniffles back his tears again, shuffling over to the door while Miss Tiffany waits with his Uncle.
“Do you maybe wanna stay a little late today and we can practice diving off the block when class is over?” she offers, “I know it can be scary to do it in front of your classmates, but I want you to pass to level three!” 
“No thanks Miss Tiffany,” he mumbles to the tiles on the floor. 
“That’s okay Eddie, maybe we can try again next week. How’s that sound? I know you can do it,” she says softly. 
“Okay,” he murmurs before turning on his heel and moping back into the locker room. Wayne was waiting by the check in desk when Eddie emerged after changing, his ratty towel slung off his shoulder. 
“You okay?” Wayne asked.
“Yeah, can we just go home?” 
“Sure kid, was gonna stop and get us some lunch if you wanted,” Wayne’s eyes crinkle with his smile, “Wanna go to McDonalds?” 
Eddie returns the smile half heartedly, “Yeah.”
They walk to Wayne’s pick-up hand in hand, despite some parents thinking he’s ‘too old’ to be doing that. He needed the support, and his uncle was never one to make him feel like he didn’t have it. 
“So d’you wanna try again next week? Your starting form was great, buddy,” Wayne asks while Eddie puts his seatbelt on. Eddie considers it. Getting to the edge of the block and making Jason Carver eat his own words. Making him look like a loser for a change. 
But the words ring in his ear ‘BELLY FLOP!’ The relentless teasing if he didn’t do it this week and then messed up next week. He’d be a baby and a joke. 
“I don’t wanna do swimming anymore, Uncle Wayne,” he huffs.
“You sure?” his uncle frowns, putting the car into gear, “You’re really good, Ed. Y’could be on the swim team.” 
“I don’t wanna come back. I quit,” he repeats. He crosses his arms while they pull out of the parking lot, watching the rest of the kids pool out of the doors with smiles on.
Eddie wakes up to his alarm blaring, back in his 32 year old body. He swears that the air of his bedroom smells like chlorine.
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Eddie made sure to text you at 1:59 PM like an asshole. 
still on for tonight? :)
so close to having to pay my cancellation fee. 
but yes, still on for tonight :) 
sorry, work’s been wild today. would’ve texted you sooner!
you’re off the hook…
for now. 😡
He likes your little attitude, he decides. That little hint of sass in your messages keeps him on his toes and it’s not lost on him that this is probably how you flirt. He wonders, selfishly, how easy you are to fluster. You both exchange a few back and forths before he’s finishing up work for the day and heading to Wheeler’s for a campaign chat. 
The texts completely drop off while he gets ready to see you. He takes an extra long time in the shower, using the tiniest squeeze of Tati’s curl cream when he comes out because it makes his hair look good. He scrubs his face raw before shaving, following up with the skin care routine he kept up with, even though Chrissy curated it for him. 
Once dressed, he stepped quietly out to the living room to grab his jacket in the closet and pull out his boots. 
“You used my curl cream, I see,” Tatianna crosses her arms. He blushes. 
“Don’t be mad, I just wanna look good,” he puts on a faux pout, eyes rounding while he slides the leather over arms.
“You look really good,” she smiles, “It’s gonna be great.” 
Eddie shoves his socked feet in his Docs, worn in from years of wear, and looks up at her, “I’m kind of excited.” 
“You should be! I don’t know, I just have a really good feeling about this one,” she smirks, “Text me at some point, let me know how it goes.” 
“It’s a better indicator if he doesn’t text you, Tati,” Gareth says, coming up behind her, “You look sharp, dude.” 
“Sharp?” Eddie rolls his eyes, “What’re you? Eighty?” 
Tatianna clicks on her phone to look at the time, “Can you get the fuck outta here? You’re gonna be late!” 
“I’m going, I’m going!” he laughs, arms up while he grabs his keys from the hook by the door, “Wish me luck, bye!” 
Eddie felt sick. Suddenly feeling like he was standing at the edge of the pool in ‘98.
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When he got his keys in the ignition of his Honda Civic, a text came through immediately. He swallowed tightly, in some way expecting it to be you. In some way, expecting you to be canceling on him. 
Instead, it was Tatianna in the big group chat: 
here, we made a playlist for you
Eddie clicks on the Spotify link and laughs. First Date - Blink 182
First Date - Blink 182
First Date - Blink 182
First Date - Blink 182
First Date - Blink 182
First Date - Blink 182
First Date - Blink 182
First Date - Blink 182
First Date - Blink 182
First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182
And so on. The music automatically connects, the opening guitar ripping through his speakers. Eddie quickly types up a response on his phone before pulling out into the street. 
very creative, edwards.
someone in this house has to be. ‘In the car, I just can't wait, to pick you up on our very first date. Is it cool if I hold your hand? Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?’ He rolls his eyes as Mark and Tom serenade him in the car, laughing at the lyrics. It’d been a while since he’d listened to this album, let alone this song. While he won’t admit it to Gareth or his girlfriend, it was exactly what he needed before he got to the bar. 
‘Do you like my stupid hair? Would you guess that I didn't know what to wear? I'm just scared of what you think, you make me nervous so I really can't eat.’ “Let’s go, don’t wait, this night’s almost over,” he sings along, fingers tapping on his steering wheel while he waits at a red light. He’s on the fourth replay of the song by the time he pulls up. The ignition cuts off the lyrics before the chorus, he takes a big breath before opening the door. Just a couple minutes past seven, but he told you he was running a little late, so you wouldn’t be mad. His phone buzzes to Robin, Steve, and Jeff reacting to the playlist Tati sent. Alicia, Jeff, and Nancy sent him sweet good luck messages. Robin and Steve sent them a picture from a bar they were at, flipping him off. ‘Break a leg, dingus,’ came in her follow up voice memo. Eddie considers making this new picture his phone background. 
He swallows hard when he gets to the door, his bottom lip getting pulled between his teeth in apprehension. He nods to himself, “You got this, Munson.”  Another deep breath, he’s still ten, he’s still afraid to dive off the diving block. What if it hurts? What if he belly flops? 
‘What if you don’t? What if you dive this time?’ He thinks to himself. He opens the door to the bar, his ten year old self puts one foot on the diving block. The chatter of a few conversations at once is disorienting, so is the low light of the bar in comparison to the neon outside. The man at the entrance asks for his ID and he awkwardly fumbles for his wallet as if it’s not obvious he’s been old enough to drink for eleven years. “Here, man,” he says, somehow nervous he’ll get caught with a fake like he’s nineteen again. The security’s light flashes over his birthdate and he passes it back with a short and gruff thank you. Eddie takes a few steps before checking his phone to remind him what you said you’d be wearing.
in a red cut off sweatshirt, jeans that look like dickies – hard to miss! white airforces! i’m here, looking for you if you can’t spot me just approach the most off putting girl at the bar, it’s probably me :) 
He smiles into the light of his phone. You’re are funny. His phone lights up again, another text bubble added to your previous one. Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest when he looks at it, knowing you’re really only moments away. got you a guinness cause that’s what you said you liked on your profile. it looks like battery acid tbh. there’s a couple seats by the end of the bar, i’ll grab them. He looks up from his phone finally to see a blur of red start maneuvering over to the end of the bar. That’s you. Oh shit, that’s you. Oh shit, you’re – fuck. You have a fat fucking ass in those jeans. He swallows again, shaking the horny thoughts out of his head through the tendrils of his hair. Another deep breath through the nose, out of the water to the diving block just to dive again. He walks the length of the bar and hears his name, your voice in real life – not through a voice note or on your profile. “Ed?” 
Eddie catches your eye and his heart sinks and leaps so quickly he thinks he’s going into cardiac arrest. You’re real pretty, even more so when you grin at him from a few feet away. You wave him over and he does his best to walk confidently towards you, taking his jacket off while he does. He doesn’t know it, but the other girls at the bar are looking. He’s all broad shoulders and dark tattoos, two silver chains and understated rings. Full lips and doe eyes. Tatianna never told a lie, he was unmistakably handsome – he just didn’t know what to do with it. You toss your hair when you speak to the bartender from the end of the bar with a bright smile. The man puts two drinks in front of you and you leave cash in their wake. Eddie winces when he sees you pay, but tries to ignore the sting. In a way, it feels like he’s already losing – like he’s playing Sims with Robin and he’s not on track to get a gold reward on date night. You’re hot and you know it, but he can tell it’s like you just found out. Your eyes are flirty no matter what you’re looking at, you’re full bodied and it’s like you know it’s making him salivate. Eddie can’t help but be nervous when he takes a seat next to you, fingers immediately drumming on the bar top in front of him. “Guinness for you,” you say, sliding the pint glass in front of him. “Thanks,” he smiles, “You didn’t have to do that. I asked you out, you’re not supposed to be paying for me.” 
“I know, but – why don’t you get the next one and we’ll call it even?” you offer. He nods while he takes a sip, eyeing the lighter orangey liquid in your glass. “Did you get a cider?” he teases. 
“It’s a grapefruit beer, thank you,” your brows furrow at him while you take a sip. You have a good face, part of him wants to say that but it seems like a weird compliment. ‘Nice face.’ Like, what does that even mean? His tongue feels heavy, he can feel the sweat building under his curly bangs. “Weaksauce,” he laughs, scrunching his nose, “Grapefruit beer? Not for me, toots.” 
“Yeah, because you drink battery acid!” you tease back, “You’re a stout snob, huh?”
“Nah, just never heard of grapefruit beer. I always drink Guinness – or like, Miller light. Never really stray,” he shrugs. 
“You wanna try mine?” you ask, sliding the glass to him. 
“You sure?” he watches you nod and brings the beer to his lips. It’s tart, a little bubbly, hitting his tongue on the off beat from the stout before. It settles and then it’s sweet, he wonders if you’re the same. Eddie smacks his lips, “I don’t hate it.” 
“That’s such a stout snob thing for you to say,” you pull a face, bringing your drink back to sit in front of you. “I’d offer you a sip of mine but I know you don’t like it,” he smiles, “Wouldn’t want to ruin the taste of your dessert beer.” “Fuck off,” you shake your head and smile, taking another sip of your drink. The Guinness in his hand makes him feel less nervous, but not all the way – toeing the line of the end of the diving block but not scared to look down into the water. He can tell you’re nervous too by the way you pick at a hangnail on your thumb absentmindedly, the way you cross and uncross your legs. Eddie’s eyes linger for a moment at the way they spill over each other, squishing flat on the seat of the stool when you keep them uncrossed. He tries to discreetly follow the line of your thighs to your hips, up to your waist before getting ahead of himself and pulling his eyes away. 
“How was your day?” you ask. Not the question he was expecting. “My day?” he asks, brows raised while he tries to recollect anything before getting ready to see you. “Uh, my day was good. Yours?” You fucking dumbass, you couldn’t just spare one detail? She’s gonna think you’re an asshole. “It was fine,” you answer quietly. Your smile fades a little and he feels a panicked chill rush in his chest. “S-sorry, I should’ve elaborated. I sound like such a dick, sorry,” Eddie feels the heat creeping up on his cheeks, a clamminess starting up at his hairline, “I um, I went to work. Came home, went to a friend’s house for a minute and we talked about a campaign we’re putting together next weekend. I had some dinner, and then I started getting ready to see you and um – uh, now I’m here.” “Campaign? Are you a politician or somethin’?” you quirk a brow while you look him over. He feels insecure under your gaze, he hopes you like his tattoos.  
“No, no, it’s for Dungeons and Dragons.” Saying it outloud makes him feel like a loser, even though you don’t react like you think so. 
“Cool,” you smile. 
“Do you like, even know what that is?” Defensive already, waiting for you to make fun of him. Waiting for this to end up another mistake. Waiting to belly flop. 
“Yeah, I know what it is,” you answer quietly again, this time your shoulders, “Have some friends that play.” 
“Oh, cool. Cool,” Eddie nods, chest tightening, toying with his rings while you reach for your drink, “Um, I’m — yeah, sorry if that came off like, dickish. I didn’t mean to—.” 
“No, no, it’s okay,” you shake your head when you say it, almost like it’s rehearsed. Like you’re always ‘okay’-ing something. 
“Sometimes people think it’s weird when I tell them, I dunno,” he shrugs, still looking down at his rings, “If I’m being honest I haven’t been so great at this whole dating thing.” 
You smile again and he looks up in time to see it, his breath hitches. You’re very pretty. 
“If it makes you feel any better, I learned how to play Magic the Gathering twice to impress a boy. Two different ones,” you grimace, scrunching your nose, “Gross right?” 
“Oof, that’s rough,” he jokes, “Magic the Gathering? That’s like, way worse than D&D.”
“Well the difference between you and me, is that I don’t still play,” you bite back, cocking your head while you take another drink. “Didn’t impress those boys after all, huh?” he raises a brow and your mouth falls open in faux offense. 
“You’re so mean,” you gasp.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he drawls, “Should’ve put that in my profile.” 
“Oh, so you are mean?” you grin. 
“The meanest,” he grins back, teeth straight and shiny. Full lips pulled tight against them, “How was your day?” “I worked,” you shrug, “Not as exciting.” 
“What do you do?” he asks, turning towards you on the stool, leaning one arm on the bar. He relaxes into the seat, legs spreading wide while his free hand runs nervously over his thigh.
“I’m a personal assistant to a jewelry maker,” you let out a half chuckle through your nose, “It sounds fake when I say it out loud. But basically, I just keep her schedule and run errands and keep her shit in order. She’s an older woman and she’s not the most tech savvy in the world — great at what she does though, really eccentric but I feel like you gotta be when you work in the arts like that.” 
“That’s cool,” he says softly, watching you talk, “What kind of jewelry does she make?” 
“Oh you’ll love this, since you like D&D and stuff,” you start, your excitement is infectious, his heart thrums, “She makes fine jewelry for the most part, but also makes anodized chain mail jewelry and wearable pieces for theater and ren fairs on the side. I told you, eccentric.” 
“Oh, so she’s a little alchemist, huh?” he smirks. 
“Kinda, yeah,” you shrug, heat hitting your cheeks while he keeps his gaze on you, “It’s cool to watch the first few times, and then you get bored.” 
“I’m sure it’s the same for people who watch my band,” he laughs. You shake your head, a curve pulling from the corners of your lips while you finish your beer. 
“Alchemist,” you repeat with a playful roll of your eyes, “You’re such a nerd.” 
“What do you do for work?” he notices you fully turn when you ask, your knees toward him. He remembers Steve telling him once that it was always a good sign when they do that. Like Steve knows anything about body language and dating these days, he’s been platonically attached to Robin for years. His little guard dog. 
“I’m a teacher,” he replies, knocking back the remainder of the Guinness in his glass.  
“Hm,” you hum, looking him over suspiciously, “That’s surprising.” 
“I work at a performing arts school,” he rolls his eyes, “It’s 2023, I’m allowed to have tattoos.” “What do you teach?” you squint when you look him over a second time, “Actually, let me guess – drama?” 
“Music theory,” he corrects. 
“Ooh, big brain,” you joke, “That’s cool.” 
“Big brain? I don’t know about that, I just like music,” he shrugs, “It makes sense to me.” “When I was in high school everyone always talked about how hard music theory was – like, all the band kids,” you explain, there’s a sparkle starting to glint in your eye when you talk to him. “You were hanging out with the band kids?” he tosses a sarcastic knowing look before taking his glass in his hands, “And I’m a nerd? I dunno girl, it’s not looking good for you here...” “Even worse, I was dating one,” you grimace back. “Fuuuuck, you were really fighting for your life in 2009 huh?” Eddie laughs low, lower lip tucking in between his teeth to run his tongue over it. 
“2007, 2008 all the way to like, 2016,” you hide your face in one hand and he wishes you wouldn’t. 
“Damn, that’s a long time,” he observes, “You didn’t marry that guy?” 
You lift your head back up, and shake your head, “It was on and off for a long time, he’s not a fan favorite. It’s uh – it’s why I normally don’t date musicians. I almost didn’t match with you ‘cause of your first picture.” 
Fucking Tatianna. 
“Eek, sorry,” Eddie puts his hands up, “Should I go?” “Do you play bass?” you wince.
“I play a lot of instruments,” he chuckles, “I can play the bass. But I’m not like…a bass player, if you know what I mean.” 
“Oh, I know what you mean,” you breathe out a sigh of relief, “Made that mistake more than once.” “What’s your favorite instrument that you play?” you ask, it’s almost girlish. He ponders it while you cross your legs, the toe of your shoe barely brushing the back of his calf but he knows it's there. You rest your chin on your fist while you watch him think about it. His brown eyes glint in the reflection of the light overhead, plush lips parted while he runs his hands over his stubble. “I think I’d have to say…electric guitar? I’ve been playing that the longest,” he hopes you think that’s cool. “Is it the same one that’s in your pictures?” 
“The Warlock?” he asks with a grin, “Yeah, that’s my girl. Best relationship of my life, prob’ly the only lady who talks more than me.” 
“It’s really nice. I like the color.” 
“Thank you,” he says quietly, eyes darting to your knees where they sit between his, “Um, can I get you another drink? Do you want a beer or…?” 
“If I get a real drink will you stop making fun of my beer?” 
“I promise.” He slides off the stool, sad to see your close proximity to him fade away when he stands up. 
“They have food here, right? I’m sort of hungry, if that’s okay,” your voice gets sheepish when you ask. 
“Yeah, that’s okay. Did you eat dinner?” The words fall out of him too fondly. 
“I had like, a huge spinach salad,” you explain, “Might not have been enough.” 
Something tells him to press further before he buys you more liquor, lest this date go to the wayside too quickly, “Did you eat lunch?” 
“I worked through lunch.” 
“Did you eat breakfast?” 
“I had a smoothie,” you confess. 
“Okay, so before I get you a drink, why don’t I get you some chicken fingers or something?” he insists. You’re shy in your smile back to him, nodding along at his advice. Yes, you should eat more before you keep drinking with him. He doesn’t want you to think he’s just trying to get you tipsy, he’s never been that kind of guy – even when he’d bring home girls from the bar. (They’d at least be the same level of totally obliterated as he was.)
He beams back at you when you nod, “Atta girl.” 
He doesn’t notice when your thighs clench. 
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The last chicken finger is eaten, the last fry of the basket he got for you to split crunched through. The conversation had lulled, not because you weren’t interesting – the nerves were getting to him, creeping up like vines along his chest. The look over the diving block at the water, it’s slow waves teasing him to jump. 
“So um,” you began, swallowing your final fry and wiping your hands on a napkin, “Since you’re a teacher, how was school today?” 
Eddie’s so used to this question that his response doesn’t change, always the same quote from the same movie. Forgetting he doesn’t know you like that, his mouth moves quicker than his desire to play things off cool.
“The worst day of my life, what do you think? Gosh!” Eddie sounds more like John Heder in 2004 than John Heder does now – but when he hears himself say it, he’s immediately embarrassed. Eddie opens his mouth to apologize, nervous you won’t understand but instead – you laugh. And what a sound that is for him to hear. 
“Oh, shit. I haven’t watched Napoleon Dynamite in years. Like, not since grade school.” Eddie laughs with you, “Sorry, sorry, that’s like my go-to reaction at home when my roommates ask me that. I should’ve said something more normal like, ‘It was fine. The kids can’t stop trying to take TikTok fancams of me.”
“Roommates? Fancams? You’re so hip, tell me more,” you enthuse. He puts a finger up to stop you at first, locking eyes with the bartender so he can finally order another round of drinks. 
“What kind of real drink do you want?” he asks. 
“Just a marg on the rocks, salt,” you shrug. 
“Psh, I said a real drink,” Eddie teases with a roll of the eyes, but they soften when you go to argue back, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” 
His toes inch towards the middle of the diving block.
“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he flirts. Eddie can see the heat hit your cheeks, the creep of a smile slowly curving upwards, you’re embarrassed. Nervous like he is. Maybe this is going just fine. 
When the drinks arrive he slides the margarita towards you and sips his own Jack and Coke slowly through the tiny bar straw. 
“Okay, so. I have two roommates. Gareth, who’s been my best friend since I was nine; and Tatianna who has been my best friend since I was twenty-nine,” he explains. 
“So why aren’t you dating Tatianna?” you challenge. You miss the straw when you reach for it with your mouth, it slides over to the other side of the cup. You try again and miss, cheeks burning while Eddie looks at you continue to fuck up. His eyes glint mischievously while you hold in your frustrated laughter, “Stop looking at me.” 
“It’s fine, I’ll wait while you get your life figured out over there,” he jokes, checking ‘the time’ on his wrist, “Shouldn’t be too long until you finally get it.” 
“You’re so annoying,” you grit out playfully while you capture the straw between your teeth, “Should’ve put that on your profile, too.”
“Anyway,” he continues, “I’m not dating Tatianna because Gare’s going to propose to her when they go on vacation in a few weeks.”
 “Oh! Yeah, that makes sense,” you nod, “Probably not a good idea to date your best friend’s almost wife.” 
“Yeah, definitely not well advised,” he shakes his head, pulling his hair up off of his neck for a minute before dropping it down, “Plus, her last name is Edwards and I dunno…don’t think I could live with myself if I was ‘Eddie Edwards’.”
You laugh again and he hoped you would. It’s a goofy laugh, you don’t try to sound cute when you do it. He knows you must be a loud laugher, if your small ones are any preview to what you could really do. You don’t sound like Chrissy. Her laugh was dainty, feathery. Like how they teach you to giggle in an etiquette class – all soft edges, all smooth lines. 
“You wanna take the girl’s last name?” you raise your brows, “Very forward thinking. Progressive.” 
“I don’t know, something about it’s kinda hot right?” he asks cock of his head, “Plus, my dad sucks so I don’t want to keep repping him by having his last name.” 
“Oh wow, my dad sucks, too,” you reply cheerily, “We have so much in common!” 
“What was it you said before? ‘Twin behavior’?” 
“Twin behavior, yes!” your hands meet both of his knees where he sits across from you, your tone is light and earnest, “You get me.”
Eddie takes in a hitch of breath, desperate to keep his cool when he feels your hands on him. It’s not even sexy but he could shoot straight to the moon if you asked him to. You use his knees as leverage to hop down from your stool, grabbing your drink before nudging him with your hip. 
“If we’re still battling though, there’s an air hockey table in the back room if you wanna play,” you offer. 
“Are you any good?” he wonders, hopping off the stool to follow you to the back. 
“I’m amazing,” you grin, “Actually won seventeen first place trophies in the intergalactic air hockey competition – of course I’m fucking bad at it, that’s why it’s fun to play.” 
Eddie laughs this time, it’s gruff and nicotine soaked. You’re already winning the battle for funniest person – you’re sharp with him and he’s starting to like it. He runs his hand over the side of the air hockey table in the empty back room, more and more pleased that he put this date together on a Monday. He slides a dollar into the machine so it whirs to life, the neon lights flicking on with a stutter. 
“This reminds me of birthday parties when I was a kid,” you muse to yourself, reaching for the hockey disc trapped in your goal, “Can you help me?” 
He nods, hand grazing your back to get you out of the way – you’re warm to the touch. If he was a braver man he would’ve pulled you into him but he’s not, instead squatting down to reach further into the goal where your game piece was. 
“Hm,” he murmurs, reaching further back and barely touching the top of it, “It’s in here, it’s just back there. I can get it, just –” he sucks his teeth like he did the night before, getting to his knees to try. Music plays over head, stuff the new crop of bar goers would consider oldies. You smile at the opening ‘Damn, shawty snappin’...’ of T-Pain’s ‘Buy U A Drank’, but even more surprised when you hear Eddie sing along softly to himself. 
“Snap ya fingers, do yuh step, you can do it all by yourself. Babygirl, what’s your name?” “Not you knowing the lyrics,” you laugh. 
“I was in highschool in 2007 of course, I know the lyrics,” he huffs, standing up, “I think it’s a bust for air hockey.” 
“That’s fine,” you shrug, “We tried.” 
“I know the club, close at three,” he lip syncs to himself before, turning his attention to you, “What’s the chances of you rollin’ with me?” 
You back and forth to each other in time with the lyrics before settling back down in your spot at bar. 
“You even know the Yung Joc part? Damn,” you laugh again, he loves it. 
“Why’re you so surprised? Is it the tattoos?” he asks. 
“Well yeah, you definitely give off a ‘loved Avenged Sevenfold’ in high school vibe,” you scooch your stool closer to his, your knees slotting between his open ones like a perfect puzzle. It’s not enough though, and he’s not sure if it’s himself or the Jack and Coke that encourages him, but he reaches for one of the legs of your stool to pull you closer. 
“Hey,” he says, your faces only a few inches apart. 
“Hey,” you respond. You catch his eyes flick briefly to your lips before they meet yours again. You can see the light smatter of freckles over his nose, long faded from the summer. 
“You’re right, I was really into Avenged Sevenfold when I was in highschool.” 
“I figured. I was into that whole scene thing, back then. All those singers that are mad at their dad’s and like, in retrospect, all hate women I guess,” you realize it as you speak. 
“I probably would’ve thought you were cute,” he guesses. 
“No, you would’ve called me a poser,” you correct, “Don’t lie.” 
He hesitates before nodding, “No, no, you’re right I definitely would’ve called you a poser. Did you like Fall Out Boy and all of that shit?” 
“Don’t shit on the music I liked,” you frown, “That’s not cool.” 
“I’m not, I’m not,” he assures, pulse speeding, “I promise, I’m not. I’m sorry.” You continue talking about music, high school, college, some ins and outs. Nothing too serious. Nothing too intense. But by now, Eddie’s feeling nice and if one thing’s for certain:
He wants to fucking kiss you. Toes at the edge of the diving block, Miss Tiffany’s whistle caught between her teeth. 
“So now that we’re three drinks in, can I ask you a personal question?” you ask, your eyes a little glassy. You’ve confessed that you’re tipsy, but aware, that if you have one more drink you won’t be – so Eddie already paid the tab. 
“What do you wanna know?” he asks.
“Why’re you,” you enunciate, implying he’s something, “On the apps? It’s hard to believe that someone like you would be single. Unless you have like, something deeply wrong with you, but you’ve been all green flags so far.” 
Your hand falls back to his knee and he eyes it before sliding his own hand down his thigh to lace your fingers with his. 
“You want the real story?” he asks, lifting your hand up of his knee to play with your fingers in both of his hands while he talks. His hands are warm and calloused on the fingertips, but the rest are soft. Lacing and unlacing, running his thumb up the lengths of your fingers, tracing your palm. 
“The real story.” 
“You gonna tell me why you’re on the apps after?” 
“Sure,” you nod. You look gentle, at ease. He eases in, too. 
“I got divorced in 2020,” he confesses. It feels like a weight off his chest to tell you, “Married my high school sweetheart, things were great for a long time, but y’know. People grow and – the pandemic was not kind to us.”
“Oh, I’m…I’m sorry to hear that,” you offer softly. 
“It’s okay,” he smiles tightly. “I guess I was both surprised and not surprised at all when she broke up with me. Almost relieved, I guess – that I didn’t have to play the part of her husband anymore. Not that she was a bad wife or anything, she was great she just – I don’t know,” he rambles, “And I don’t know, I just threw myself into work and my friends after. Girls after shows. Was too scared to like – go on dates incase it ended up like my marriage and –” 
He laughs, “My friends were tired of seeing me be so sad, I guess.” 
“You have such a solid support system,” you comment, “You mention your friends, like, every other sentence.” 
A beat. “I like that,” you nod and smile. He can’t get over how you look when you do that. 
“Why’re you on the apps?” he asks, your hand now cradled between the two of his, his fingers grazing your wrist. 
“I’m six months out of a six year long relationship,” you let out a breath through your nose and drop your shoulders a little, “Figured it was time to get back out there – enter my slut era.” 
“Oh yeah, you’re super slutty,” he teases, “That’s actually the first thing I thought when I saw you. ‘She’s in her slut era.’” “God, fuck offfff,” you giggle again. 
“But yeah, I ended it. I figure I should make that clear,” you say, “Just in case that’s like, a red flag for you. But I don’t know, we just weren’t growing in the same directions. Things felt done way before I left and I – I don’t know. I think I was just scared. I took some time for myself and now, here I am.” 
“It’s okay that you ended your relationship, it’s not a red flag,” Eddie’s voice soothes you when he says it, “If you told me you like, cheated on him and then hit him with your car then maybe yeah, I’d be a little concerned. But you’re an adult, you just know what you want better this time around.”
“Yeah,” you agree. Your eyes meet in a silent confirmation. His eyes flick to your lips for a second time before tucking his lower lip between his teeth again. 
BELLY FLOP! 
“You wanna head out? It’s getting a little late,” he offers. 
Your brows raise in surprise, “Uh, sure, yeah.” 
“Not that I don’t like spending time with you,” he assures, letting his fingers linger over your hand while he stands up, not wanting to lose contact just yet, “Just don’t want to keep you out too late.” 
“Oh yes!” you start with an old southern twang, “My daddy’ll be out there with his pistol if I don’t get home ‘fore sundown.”
“You’re funny,” he laughs, letting go over your hand to reach up and squeeze your cheeks affectionately. You both put on your jackets and head outside, both of you wincing in the cold of the winter air. 
“I’d really like to do this again, if you want,” a shy blush reaches his cheeks, meeting the pink from the cold. 
“Yeah, I’d like that,” you’re just as shy in your response, “This was fun. You’re fun.” 
“Thank you,” he flushes deeper, trying to prolong the inevitable. What if he belly flops? What if it hurts? What if the kids make fun of him? 
“I’d offer to drive you home but I’ve had a few,” he says, hand reaching out to fall on your shoulder, “I feel good to drive but like, god forbid anything happens so – I’m happy to get you a car or pay for it for you.” 
“That’s really sweet, thanks. Let me just um,” you pull out your phone to get in Uber with a speed that impresses him, “It’s really not that pricey, I’m close-ish by.” 
“Still,” he says, “Just wanna be a gentleman y’know?” 
“You’re very gentlemanly,” you flirt. Eddie stiffens, nervous, palms clammy. 
“So um, I’ll see you soon?” he asks, opening his arms to give you a hug. 
“Yeah, for sure,” you nod while you let him engulf you. His scent is warm and spicy, mixed with tobacco. You guess either still smokes, or he used to, but he never got up to have a cigarette in the hours you were at the bar. Eddie let’s go and cups your cheek briefly before giving you a gentle but winning smile. His warm brown eyes linger for the last time on your lips, now they’re slightly parted, waiting for him. His toes curl over the edge of the diving block, his knees are bent, arms up over his head...I don’t want to Miss Tiffany. 
Swimming sucks.
“See ya.” 
You quirk your brow for a moment, having expected much more than a hug, “Oh, um…see ya.” 
He walks half way down the street to his car, heart thrumming in his chest in embarrassment. He should’ve just done it. FUCK. He should’ve just kissed you. 
But what if it hurts? What if she leaves? What if you can’t make it to level three? What if they laugh at you? 
He breathes heavily through his nose while tears threaten to well up in his eyes, staining his eyelashes. What if you don’t want to see him again after this? What if you change your mind? He sighs audibly when he turns the key, phone auto connecting to the speakers. He turns up the radio while the car revs to life, pulling on his seatbelt and putting the wheels into gear. He leans back in his seat to pull out of his spot only to see you still waiting for the car outside of the bar. 
Blink-182 blares through his speakers, hitting him straight in the chest.
‘Let’s go, don’t wait, this night’s almost over. Honest, let’s make,this night last forever. Forever. And ever. Let’s make this last forever.’ 
What if he did stay a little later after class? What if he got the chance to move on to level three? 
Fuck it, he thinks. He turns off the ignition, shaking out the sounds of Jason Carver and the kids laughing, the sounds of their feet kicking in the water. Just Miss Tiffany and her whistle. He gets out of the car, determined. You’re still there, head whipping around to see him coming towards you while you bounce on the balls of your feet in the cold. 
Arms up. Knees bent. “Ed? My car’s gonna be here in a sec–” Whistle. His hands reach out to your cold cheeks to pull you in before his full lips capture yours. His eyes flutter close at the contact, feeling your mouth react to his in time. Soft and needy, hydrated. You immediately know how to keep his pace while he separates and goes back in for more. Wet but not messy, passionate but not feverish. The smoothest dive he’d ever done in his life. Your hands escape your pockets, fingers sliding behind his neck to pull him closer, sliding through the nape of his hair. He breaks away for a moment to delicately push your hair out of your face and really look at you before pressing his lips to yours again. You only stop when your Uber beeps from across the street. 
“I wanted to do that all night,” he mumbles sheepishly. 
“I wanted you to do that all night, too,” you giggle, breathless and blushing, “Thank you.” 
“Thank you,” he says, running a hand over his face, “Let me know when you get home, okay?” 
“Okay,” you nod, hurrying across the street as the car honks again,  “Bye!” 
“I’ll put something together for next time!” he calls out. ‘Cause there will be a next time. 
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Tatianna is leaning over the back of the couch with her chin in her hands when Eddie opens the door. Her cheshire cat grin matches his own. 
“So I didn’t hear from you all night,” she starts, her voice syrupy smooth, “So that means it must’ve went really well.” 
Eddie sighs dreamily, kicking off his boots at the entryway and hanging his jacket on one of the hooks by the door. 
“Ooh, you like herrrr! I can tell! Look at your stupid face!” she laughs, pointing at him, bouncing on the cushions. 
“Tati she’s…fuck,” he shakes his head in disbelief while he walks towards her, “There’s either two ways this could go.” 
“Yeah?” she asks, looking up at him, “And those are?” 
“I’m gonna marry her, or she’s gonna absolutely fuckin’ ruin my life.” 
“I like her already,” Tati grins, “Sit down, tell me everything.” 
“Yeah, yeah, give me a sec,” he grumbles, his phone buzzing in his pocket. He plops down onto the couch while Tati grabs two cups of tea from the kitchen that she made especially for the recap of his night. Gareth had been long asleep for an early morning at work tomorrow. 
Eddie takes out his phone, two unread text alerts lingering on his home page. He opens them, smiling stupidly into the screen.
i’m home :) you’re a really good kisser by the way. 
glad you made it home safe. you are too. :) but you started off pretty kissable so, that’s probably why. you’re making me blush over here, stop it. 
Eddie lets out a soft chuckle through his nose, clicking out of your text conversation to go back to his home screen. 
He deletes the apps.
3K notes · View notes
vivwritesfics · 2 months
Note
🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶
So reade is together with either max or lando
She is not a model or something
She just looks like a normal person ( think a bit of a stomach, bigger thighs, a butt, if you get me)
She was cUght on camera and the fans are not happy about it
Like says tahr he deserves a better girl, you know the works
Said bf goes crazy about it
They tell everybody off
Then I think they get caught fucking on the yatch and the bf is just so proud cause gf is so beautiful during taht moment
Or they ger caught during a very sweet moment like during a races and they maybe dnfs??
Warnings: Body shaming (this is fluffy dw)
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It was no secret that the internet hated Max's girlfriend. He'd had it before with Kelly and that was hard enough to get through. But now he was dating somebody his own age, he thought things would be different.
This time around he wasn't dating a model. She was a waitress in a coffee shop. Max couldn't stop himself from asking for her number. And the rest was history.
She wasn't stick thin like the models his friends dated. She had thighs and a stomach, and she loved it. She loved the way she looked.
But the internet didn't.
Full on hate pages were made just to poke fun at her. Anything she posted or did anything, it was scrutinised heavily. Y/N tried to stay away from all of it, but it was near impossible. Especially when it appeared as a suggested post.
She was happy with Max and that was all that mattered, right? Not the tiktoks that were made about her, pointing out all of her flaws and all of the things that made her insecure.
Max could see it getting to her. And he was sick of it, sick of how his girlfriend was treated by the people that were supposed to be his fans. So, he did the only thing he could think of and he made an instagram post.
She was sitting on his lap in the picture as he held her thighs, kissing her. It wasn't anything like Max's usual posts, but it had to be done.
Spoiler alert, it didn't fix anything. If anything, it made everything so much worse.
But they were trying not to let it get to them. Y/N still attended every race, still kissed Max after every podium. She kissed him when he DNFed, when he had a good or bad qualifying. She kissed him whenever he could.
A few days after Abu Dhabi, a video appeared on her tiktok. She tried not to go on it much, but her friends had sent it to her several times over.
She opened it. There was a video of her, a compilation of all of the times that she and Max had kissed during the last few grand prix weekends. A sweet song played in the background, the words appearing over the screen as the videos were slowed down.
It was amazing, the first nice thing she'd seen about herself on the internet. After leaving a like and a sweet comment, she ran to show max.
946 notes · View notes
hotvintagepoll · 3 days
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Propaganda
Margaret Lindsay (Frisco Kid, The House of the Seven Gables, Scarlet Street)—she was born in Dubuque, Iowa, then moved to England to make her stage debut. She framed herself as a British actress and moved back to America to try Hollywood, then starred with James Cagney in a bunch of movies. She was in the Ellery Queen movie series and The House of the Seven Gables. She never married (I suspect lesbian stuff) but lived with her sisters. She dated Cesar Romero and Liberace (I told you. Lesbian stuff.) Please include the pic of her in the tie [included above]
Mae West (She Done Him Wrong, I'm No Angel)—She is an absolute icon, the OG sex symbol. Every word from her mouth was an innuendo and she was proud of it. I guess one could say she slayed. She got Cary Grant his first acting role, as well. How could you NOT vote for someone who says such iconic stuff as "I do all my writing in bed; everybody knows I do my best work there" or "You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough." SHE COINED THE PHRASE "IS THAT A GUN IN YOUR POCKET OR ARE YOU JUST HAPPY TO SEE ME?" I LOVE HER!!!
This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Margaret Lindsay:
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Mae West:
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Her voice! Her body! She was thick as hell and SO confident.
Mae West is often called the queen of the sexual pun or innuendo, she was an early sex symbol and a comedy icon. She also has a quote saying "When I am good, I am very good. But when I am bad I am better!" which is possibly the peak of hot girl energy ever. (Including the clip here)
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for an era that didn't have much wiggle room when it came to women that studios wanted in their films, it's refreshing that she was in her late 30s when she skyrocketed to movie fame. she was also curvy and witty and raunchy, an absolute icon!
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Legendary sex symbol. Like 500 vintage iconic quotes and double entendres. "Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? " "When I'm good, I'm very good. But when I'm bad, I'm better" / "It's not the men in your life that count, it's the life in your men" / "I feel like a million tonight. But one at a time." , "Marriage is a fine institution, but I'm not ready for an institution. " / " How tall are you without your horse? Six foot, seven inches. Never mind the six feet. Let's talk about the seven inches! " Look the pictures don't do her justice just watch a compilation and tell me that voice doesn't do it for you
youtube
She was a SEX GODDESS at a time when that was an extremely scandalous thing to be, and she worked it! She was sardonic, sarcastic, funny...and stacked! Favorite quote (from Night After Night, 1933): Random woman: Goodness! What beautiful diamonds! Mae West: Goodness had nothin' to do with it, dearie.
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i personally love this silly production number from one of her lesser known movies
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She was arrested for indecency and chose to serve 10 days in prison instead of paying the fine for the publicity, and she claimed that she refused to wear the ugly prison outfits so she wore her silk lingerie the entire time. Also one of the first historybound vintage fashion icons (although vintage for her was the Victorian era)
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neptuneiris · 8 months
Text
cardigan (epilogue) (1/2)
i knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired, and you'd be standin' in my front porch light.
pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!
summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.
word count: 9.9K
previous part • next part
obviously i didn't expect this to be too long hahaha, even i was surprised, i didn't realize it was too much. so i decided to make the epilogue in two parts. thank u all so much por reading❤
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Life in Highgarden could not have exceeded your expectations more.
At first you felt like you were supposed to when you came to live in a new city: terrified, anxious and nervous. You didn't want to feel lonely, but it was inevitable considering you know nothing and no one.
And when you arrive at your new dorm, you immediately loved it. Your room is bigger than the one at King's Landing and you have a beautiful view with lots of trees around and green grass.
Highgarden is well known for the fantastic flora and fauna. Everything is green, there are big trees and beautiful plants, there are even lakes and the weather ¡is perfect.
Yet you didn't have much time to get to know the city, because a week after you arrived, your classes started. And a week after you started your classes, you started your internship.
You met Arthur Winslow, the psychologist responsible of your internship, owner of a mental clinic for children, teenagers and adults.
He explained to you from the beginning that, once you were prepared, you would be present in cases of children and teenagers as well as adults to start your experience.
In addition, you would also support him in administrative things, such as his schedule, phone calls and so on. The pay is at a fair price, so it's perfect.
And as a result of Aileen and Sara not making it into the exchange program, you made new friends in your classes.
Although even if your friends had gotten in, Aileen would have chosen to go to Dorne and Sara to Winterfell, so you started talking to the people in your class.
They all came from different parts of the country, only a very few came from King's Landing and you didn't really talk to them much.
And after the first month passed, you just couldn't get any better.
You adjusted perfectly to your internship, to your classes which are wonderful and you also made good friends very quickly with whom you finally had that security to go around Highgarden almost in its entirety.
You went to many places, whether it was squares, parks, museums, lakes and even aquariums. Everything was so beautiful.
You took pictures, videos, made compilations with all your visits to upload to your Instagram, and even went out for fun on weekends to parties and bars with your friends.
You kept in touch with your friends at King's Landing and also let your parents know what you were doing by sending them pictures, videos and also talking to them on the phone.
Even Helaena messaged you by replying to one of your Instagram stories asking how you were doing and how you were doing at Highgarden.
Also her older brother messaged you, Aegon. He asked you how you were doing and also told you that he hasn't seen you in a while.
In truth with Aegon you did not speak much and fortunately neither of the two Targaryen brothers mentioned Aemond and for that you were grateful.
You were not thinking about him, not since you came to Highgarden and that is why you felt so at peace with yourself.
Despite being completely focused on your classes and internships more than anything else, you didn't lie to your friends that you had met and talked to a few guys.
You mostly met them at college parties, but nothing formal, it was all just hanging out.
You didn't have the mindset to really date, you didn't feel like you needed to and really a Highgarden guy didn't suit you if you were six months from now coming back to King's Landing.
You just had fun, experienced new things and officially started your psychology training.
And with the date getting closer and closer to return to King's Landing, you realized you didn't want to leave. Neither did Vhagar. At least not yet.
You grew attached very quickly to everything at Highgarden, even Vhagar with her walks in the parks and the view of the sunset when you took her for a stroll around the lake as well.
Everything was quiet and you felt at peace. However, you admit that you miss your friends and your life at King's Landing.
It's kind of a bittersweet taste to have to leave to go home. You definitely plan to come back because you've even grown quite fond of Dr. Winslow.
Until finally the date arrives and it's time to go back.
It was six months and yet it felt like it all happened in a matter of weeks. Yet you know you enjoyed every second at Highgarden and you don't feel like you wasted any time.
You immediately text your mom that you have landed at King's Landing and you also send a picture of your arrival to the group chat with Aileen, Sara and Ryan.
You call for an Uber and soon you find yourself arriving at the dorm with Vhagar in your arms.
The man driver helps you carry your bags up to your room, which you couldn't feel more grateful for, and as you enter that small space where you started your dependency, you feel nostalgic because you had missed it and happy because you are back.
And not long after you arrived, of course your friends would pay you an unannounced visit to welcome you back.
"You have to tell us everything.”
"And you have to show us the pictures you didn't upload to your Instagram."
"Did you meet cute guys?"
"How was your dorm?"
"How is the food?"
"We have to go to a party to celebrate."
You laugh as you notice the excitement in Aileen and Sara who are the ones asking all the questions while you and Ryan watch them with a small, amused smile.
And even though you didn't answer their questions, they still say they should get something to eat and drag you along with them to tell them everything.
Ryan takes them to a fast food restaurant in the middle of the university and soon the table is filled with fries, sodas, burgers, pizza and so on.
"You have to go one day, the program for the psychology internships are the best. The school is not that big, but the teachers are amazing, they even organize tours to many mental clinics of all kinds for all the students themselves. The only bad thing | could tell you about Highgarden is the food, it's not that good."
"Ugh no, dont tell me that,” says Aileen with a long-suffering face, "Don't make me change my mind about choosing Highgarden over Dorne if | get to go on exchange next year."
"But why would you want to go to a desert?” Ryan asks her confused, "Do you like to get your ass all sweaty?"
"Dorne is a place with incredible wonders and a lot of history, in case you didn't know,” she says seriously, "l've always wanted to see Sunspear."
"Just like any other place, genius. Besides, don't you know the temperatures reported in Dorne? It's like living in hell,” Ryan tells her incredulously. "l'm more supportive of Sara's idea to go to Winterfell where, if she's lucky, she'Il be able to go beyond the North and see the Wall. l'd rather do that than be dying of heat."
"So you'd rather be freezing to death?"
"Yes. A million times yes."
"And what about the parties?"
Sara asks you, picking up the subject and leaving aside for a moment Aileen and Ryan who continue arguing about Dorne and any other place in Westeros where according to Ryan it's better.
“They're not as noisy as here, but you still have a good time," you confess.
"Of course you have a good time,” Sara tells you mischievously, "All those guys you met seemed like they would really show you a good time."
You lower your gaze with a small embarrassed smile.
"It was just for the moment, that's all."
"And you didn't have any luck with any of them?"
You deny, looking at her again.
"I didn't want to. It wasn't...” You let out a sigh, "lt wasn't ideal."
"Oh come on, why not?” she asks incredulously, offended, "Didn't you get a good look at them? They were very handsome, Y/N. And they were just videos you sent us, I'm sure they were really hot in person."
You let out a small laugh, denying again.
"I didn't want to get attached to one of them, let alone start dating because | knew |'d be back here,” you confess, "And the whole long-distance relationships thing... it's not really my thing."
Sara grimaces and gives you a look of understanding at the same time.
"Well," she sighs, "At least you had fun with them."
"Not with all of them,” you clarify amused.
"But you did, so that counts."
After talking some more with Sara, since Aileen and Ryan are still busy debating... or rather fighting, you leave your part of the money for them to pay the bill while you go to the bathroom.
When you return, as you walk towards the table with your friends, a voice you know very well despite not having heard it in a while makes you stop as you hear your name called out.
"Y/N?"
And when you turn your head, a surprised Aegon Targaryen looks at you with a huge smile, standing with him is Helaena, apparently both of them having just arrived at the restaurant.
For an instant you panic at the thought that he's probably here too, but you're relieved to see that it's just the two of them.
"Is that you? Really?"
Aegon asks you amused, wasting no time in approaching you with Helaena following him and you also smile in his direction and shorten the distance between the two of you.
"It's been a long time since l've seen you too, Egg."
"Oh you little devil, you haven't forgotten how much | hate it when you call me that."
You both laugh and he wraps you in a tight hug that you reciprocate with the same affection, because even though Aemond was your best friend, you are still fond of all his brothers and nephews who have always been very good to you.
"Where have you been hiding? I haven't seen you for years."
He tells you incredulously, separating from you and you shrug your shoulders, already anticipating that you will talk about him. And even if you don't want to, you'll still have to.
"You know... here and there,” you say without much detail, shrugging your shoulders.
"Here and there where?" he asks you amused.
"Well... at school, with my friends and also at my exchange."
“But I dont see you around our house anymore, not even on birthdays, you didn't go to the ball either," he says almost in a sad tone, "You don't talk to my brother anymore, do you?" he asks a little more seriously, "Since the ball happened and he didn't take you, I knew something had happened. It seemed strange to me since you always went together every year."
You let out a long breath, lick your lips and nod, not wanting to give more importance to that matter that already happened many months ago.
"Yeah," you smile a little, affirming, "Yeah, since then."
"Forgive him,” Helaena stands between the two of you, with a smile and a sorry look, "l told him clearly that he won't ask you about him if he sees you when you come back, but his mental capacity is so low that the idiot doesn't understand."
You can't help but laugh at this, while Aegon at her side looks at her offended.
"l only wanted to corroborate what you told me,” he says innocently.
"Corroborate?" Helaena asks him.
"Yes," he says at once, still offendead, "I didn't believe you. At least not much. The two of them were inseparable and to suddenly not be friends anymore... it was like when | found out that Jack and Rose never existed and it was just a fictional story for the Titanic movie, I couldn't believe it and i felt cheated."
"Shut the fuck up."
Helaena says to him with a bad face and then turns to you with the smile and the softest and most pleasant look so characteristic of her.
"l'm so happy you're back. I didn't even know you were back, if i had known i would have texted you and we would have gone for a coffee."
"Thank you, Hel,” you smile softly at her, "And no, i didn't say anything about coming back and i honestly don't know why. I was so sad to leave but at the same time i was desperate to be back home."
"And what about Highgarden?" she asks you excitedly, "l've always been looking forward to going there. The nature there is just wonderful. There are lots of aquariums, isn't there?"
"Yes, yes, everything is amazing," you assure her, "Except the food. That's my only complaint. Everything is too... healthy"
"Oh yes, i knew that already," she says to you in understanding.
"And where do you live now that you don't live with my brother anymore?" Aegon asks interested, "Did you rent an apartment for yourself?"
"No, no, i live in a dorm now,” you clarify, "Because of the scholarship i got a big discount, and with the money i got paid for my internship at Highgarden, i have a chance to look for another job around here for a month."
"Oh, great,” he nods, listening to you attentively.
"A friend of mine who works at a boutique nearby recently told me they're looking for female employees. She works part time, maybe you have the same schedule if i pass you her number and she gives you more information."
Helaena tells you with such confidence that you're thankful that the first day you've been back to King's Landing, she's already saved you from looking for a job.
The flower shop where you worked before is already full of employees since your quitting, Sara told you since she went to ask to let you know before returning to King's Landing.
And now Helaena has helped you with that.
"That would help me a lot, Hel. Thank you so much."
"Oh, it's nothing,” she says nonchalantly taking her phone, "I'II tell my friend and then I'll pass you her number, don't worry."
After talking and keeping up with both of you for a few more minutes, your friends call you to leave and that's when the three of you say goodbye.
They both tell you if you want to keep them company, but since you've already eaten and you also have a mess in your room that needs to be cleaned up for your return, you agree to go out to dinner next week.
And just as you say, that's what happens once you're back in your dorm.
Vhagar greets you and keeps you company as you start to get all your clothes, shoes, make-up and all your stuff out of the suitcases. You also get something in and start arranging your few pieces of furniture in different ways in your space, wanting to try something new.
You put all your clothes in your closet, not wanting to leave anything for later, that takes some time, also to sweep and rearrange everything as you had it in your small bathroom.
You even fill a basket with clothes that need to be washed and go down to the laundry room, really not wanting to leave anything for later knowing that you have busy weeks ahead of you because of college and you want to get everything ready.
You wait for the clothes to be washed and also to dry, then go back to your room and continue organizing everything.
Until the sunset starts to show through your window and realizing that you are not missing anything anymore, you can finally lay down on your bed with Vhagar and rest.
You pick up your phone and begin to entertain yourself with Facebook, Instagram and Twitter, letting the time pass.
Vhagar settles in next to you and you get more comfortable to start watching Tiktoks, entertaining yourself for another good time.
You think to yourself that maybe later you'll go downstairs to buy something from the vending machine and watch a movie or maybe a series until you fall asleep, sounding like an awesome plan for you.
Then you finally get up, grab your most comfortable clothes and take a bath. It doesn't take you long and you dry your hair, then you feed Vhagar and take money to go buy food and watch the movie or series.
When suddenly there is a knock on your door.
You watch it in silence, thinking confused that you are not expecting anyone. And you have no idea who it could be. You didn't agree with your friends that they would come here later if you've already seen each other in the morning.
You check your messages to see if any of your friends told you they were coming to visit you unexpectedly, but nothing.
So you go to open the door thinking that it must be one of your friends and they decided not to tell you about coming over, but when you open your door you didn't expect it to be your ex-best friend, Aemond.
You freeze the moment you see him, definitely not expecting it.
As his gaze lights up when he sees you and the two of you are face to face after what felt like an eternity of the two of you not seeing each other.
You unconsciously take a step back, surprised and confused, your lips parted, as he watches you intently, almost with a hopeful look, maybe because he's afraid you'll slam the door in his face.
But you don't move from shock because you didn't expect it to be him and you didn't expect to see him so suddenly after so many months.
And he… hasn't changed.
You know it's only been months, there's not much difference, but it's the same appearance since the last time you saw him. His hair is still short to your surprise and his clothing style is the same.
What you do notice are the muscles on his arms are more pronounced and you also get the impression that he is a little taller.
While you… what can you say about yourself? Really nothing.
The only new thing you've done is to start trotting in the mornings, also your hair is short below your shoulders when before you had it down to your waist and you've put more earrings in both ears.
And neither of you say anything.
The two of you are simply inspecting each other after a long time without seeing each other, you mostly feeling just as confused to see him here.
You really don't understand how he is here. Or rather how he knew you were already back.
He certainly couldn't have known, you still have him blocked from all your social media networks.
Then….?
You ask yourself but the answer comes to you in a second.
Aegon.
You think in affirmative mode. And also probably Helaena because the three of you met at the restaurant. But you know it was Aegon who must have told him everything.
You don't doubt that maybe Hel wanted to kill him.
When after a few more seconds, the two of them not speaking and just watching each other, you finally react, instantly feeling nervous, without really knowing why.
Also that little remorse comes to your chest for everything that happened between you and what happened the last time you saw each other, remembering everything you told him crying.
You hug yourself and bite the inside of your cheek, also as he is looking at you, remembering his girlfriend, the ball and also your birthday.
When he speaks first.
"Hi."
He says to you letting out a sigh afterwards, stirring in front of you, keeping his hands in his jacket pockets, which are movements you know he does when he's nervous.
Also his look tells you he's a bit worried and anxious, but he still stands tall in front of you, his lilac eye watching you intently and having a slight gleam in it.
And his sapphire in your direction… it looks just as beautiful and stunning as ever.
"Hi."
You answer him with your tone of voice a little lower and feeling a little uncomfortable, puzzled, but you also stand firm in front of him, feeling nervous.
You certainly weren't prepared for when this moment happened and you know he wasn't either, yet here he is.
"W-what are you doing here?"
You ask trying not to let your voice sound shaky, holding back.
He swallows hard and looks away from you for a moment while he presses his lips together, to look at you again with those nerves and that certain hope.
"Actually… I wasn't too sure about coming here," he confesses with a soft look in his eyes, just like his voice, "Aegon told me you had returned to King's Landing and I wanted to see it myself."
At this, you lower your gaze for a moment and bite your lips. Yet… strangely… you don't feel upset.
"He told me by accident and got a good punch from Helaena," he adds and you look at him again.
You don't say anything for a few seconds, just look away from him, swallow hard and let out a long breath.
"Well, it's true, I'm back. If that's all, you can go now…
"Y/N..."
He calls out to you this time hopefully, interrupting you in a quick tone, not wanting to waste the opportunity and clearly not wanting this to be over any faster than he wants it to be.
It's the first time you've seen each other in months and in all these months a lot has happened and he just… wants to try.
It doesn't matter that you in the end don't want to, that you're still upset and don't want to see him, because he will understand and he will finally respect your decision, but he wants to try first.
He doesn't want to leave without trying.
"I know you probably don't want to, because I know you didn't expect to see me and maybe you even want to kick me out…"
He says lowering his gaze for a second, sighing, and then he looks at you again.
"But I want to risk myself," he tells you honestly, "and I'll understand if you say no, truly," he assures you, "I just want to talk to you and after this, if you still don't want me to bother you anymore, then I won't go near you again, I assure you."
He tells you and you remain paralyzed again for a few seconds, listening to him and watching him with your lips parted.
"And if you want me to leave now, I will. But I just want to try…" he lets out a long breath, gathering his courage, "So…. may I come in, please?"
He asks you softly, watching you just the same and almost expectantly, stirring continuously where he stands, knowing full well that he is as nervous as you are, while you have no idea what to do.
Your mind starts thinking fast, considering what you should and shouldn't do.
But the truth is that nothing comes to your mind. You just have a quick, unexpected debate on whether to let him into your room or not.
Vhagar behind you barks twice, watching Aemond very intently, while repeatedly wagging her tail back and forth excitedly and looking very playful.
While Aemond in front of you watches her with excitement and some hope, to again focus on you, ready to face the decision you will make, either yes or no.
And finally after what feels like an eternity, you know that rejecting him is probably the best option, but for some reason… you can't find the courage to do it.
And not because seeing him now in front of you and having heard his words has softened your heart, but because you realize that your heart doesn't hurt like it used to.
Maybe it was all the time you stayed apart and you healed in Highgarden, helped by the change of air, your lifestyle and the new people around you, unconsciously overcoming everything that happened between you, that you don't feel that pain anymore.
However… you do feel a weight. A weight on your shoulders and in your heart.
And it is because of that weight that after considering it in depth, with your soft gaze, you step aside and open the door wider, allowing him the entrance to your room.
Aemond would be lying if at that moment he didn't feel as if he had just received the news that he won the lottery, because surprise overcomes him and also relief.
And not wanting you to take it back, he enters your room, thanking you with his gaze in silence, while you control your nerves and close the door, facing this.
He in an instant is already in Vhagar who eagerly and seemingly happily enjoys being in his arms and licks his hands and cheeks, making him laugh and give her kisses, caressing her.
You can't help but smile a little at the scene, but you are just the same neutral and firm.
When he watches you over Vhagar, he leaves another kiss on her head and sets her back down on your bed, now looking as if he has no idea what to do.
He honestly didn't think it would go this far. He thought you'd slam the door in his face.
But you're both here. Face to face with each other. And certainly with a lot of things to say that you couldn't say to each other before.
"Hmm…" he says, stirring and glancing briefly at your room, "Did I interrupt you with something important?"
He asks and watches you intently, to which you deny, crossing your arms.
"No," you answer softly, "I was just planning to go buy something from the vending machine downstairs and watch something, a movie or a series."
"Oh," he nods, understanding, "well, if you want, I'll go," he offers, "you haven't eaten anything?"
"No. You?"
"I haven't either. But I can go and buy some dinner for both of us, only if you want. There are many restaurants near here."
"Well…
You stir uncomfortably.
"Only if you want."
"Yeah, no problem," he assures you.
And again he leaves you alone in your room saying he will be back soon, making you sigh and sit on your bed with an almost terrified expression… not expecting or understanding any of this.
The fact that he's gone to buy food helps you mentally prepare yourself for when he comes back, having no idea how they'll start talking about everything that happened.
You don't even know what he will tell you first, but you calm down and use the time he has given you to not feel nervous and terrified.
You take a deep breath, you say that everything will be fine, that this shouldn't be awkward… or at least not too awkward and that if both you and he start to feel like it's too much, you can both say so.
And of course you don't want any of this to lead to a fight. It wouldn't be wise and it's totally unnecessary.
When after a few minutes, Aemond returns with Chinese food, soda and fries from the vending machine.
He actually buys you some of your favorite chips and has also ordered you the Chinese food exactly the way you like it. At this you just thank him and both of you settle into your bed.
You put Vhagar down, give him some of her food and the two of you begin to eat.
At first it did feel a little awkward, but then, as you talk about the food being delicious and ask both of you to pass such things around, the mood begins to lighten and it's like going back to when you both lived together.
The two of them are comfortable, eating, talking about anything and watching a movie, although this time there is no movie.
And he is the first to start a conversation.
"How was Highgarden?" he observes you attentively, his gaze soft, interested.
"Incredible," you answer without hesitation.
He nods, as the two of you put more pieces of food in your mouths and then you take a sip from your bottle of soda.
"You told me that's where the best psychology internship programs are, right?"
"Yes," you affirm, "When I found out I got into the exchange program, it was the first place I applied."
"And you didn't have any problems?"
"No," you observe him softly, "Because of my good grades they didn't deny me anything, they gave me one of the first places in internships for Highgarden and everything was a very fast process. And when I got there and met the psychologist in charge of me and his clinic… it was just amazing."
"Yeah," he murmurs, "yeah, I can imagine. And I'm happy for you."
He tells you honestly, with a small smile that you return. A genuine smile from both of us.
"Thank you."
"And how did it all go? What was that you were doing? Did you get to know all of Highgarden too?"
And you tell him everything.
You tell him how your first weeks were, how was your dorm, the university, the new people you met, your internship, Dr. Arthur, what you had to do and you even told him about some very interesting cases.
You also told him about the places you met, showed him pictures and videos. You tell him that you went out partying on a few weekends, all the while he listens to you and watches you with great attention, looking genuinely interested, and asking you more questions.
Until you have nothing more to tell him about your six months at Highgarden.
"What about you? Haven't you started your internship yet?"
You ask him interestedly.
"Yes, since April," he says, "Obviously it wasn't difficult. I'm going to my father's company and I got some of my friends to do their internships there as well.
"Oh," you nod, understanding, "and what do you say?"
"What do I say?" he repeats, letting out a sigh, "well, it's not as interesting as what you told me," he says with a small smile, "It's all finance, paperwork, computer programs and so on. But that's what I like and I've been doing very well."
"Yes," you murmur, looking at a spot in your room, "But it's interesting," you tell him, "I've always thought you'd end up like one of the characters in Succession, someday running your father's important company as a rich and powerful man.
He smiles softly and then looks at you, to which you also smile in his direction.
"Am I right?" you ask him amused.
"In fact yes, you are absolutely right," he assures you in the same way.
There's no more food except for chips and soda, so he then starts talking to you more about his life and everything he's been doing lately besides college and his internship.
All while you both stare at an unimportant spot in your room, side by side, eating junk food.
And you listen to him with close attention, really interested in wanting to know what his life has been like now that you are no longer a part of it.
He tells you about how he has spent more time with his family, he tells you about Daeron, Rhaenyra, Daemon and even his cousins and nephews, Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Baela and Rhaena.
He tells you how they all spent a small part of the summer on Driftmark, an island near Dragonstone where his whole family also has a property right there, but which belongs to his aunt and uncle Rhaenys and Corlys.
You knew about Driftmark, but never in your years of friendship with Aemond did he invite you there because all his family always organized anything in his huge mansion here in King's Landing or in Dragonstone.
He also tells you about upcoming birthdays and everything his mother has planned.
And in everything he talks about, he doesn't mention Alys at all, maybe for fear that you might get upset or uncomfortable and want him to leave, because you don't dare ask him about her either.
You just let him talk to you about the first thing that comes to his mind, both of you comfortable in your bed and still eating junk food.
When Aemond seems to have told you everything and you both stay in a comfortable silence, almost shoulder to shoulder, both of you watching your little room and just letting time pass by.
And that's when Aemond watches you with his soft gaze, while you continue to eat fried food, staring into nothing. He swallows hard and lets out a long breath.
"I owe you an apology."
You freeze for a moment, still looking at everything around you but him, surprised by his words and beginning to understand where this is going.
Unable to help yourself, you look at him and he looks at you with a look that is both serious and gentle, looking honest, only to look away, maybe because of nerves, and continue talking.
"I was a very bad friend to you," he says in a murmur, "what I did to you is something unforgivable, I know, something you didn't deserve," he admits, "I don't expect you to forgive me Y/N, I'm not asking for that, I just want to talk to you and that you listen to me, that….
"I don't want to listen to your apologies only if you say them out of pity, Aemond," you interrupt him, serious.
"What? No, no, this is not for pity, Y/N," he assures you, honest and desperate to clarify, "I never felt pity for you and you know it."
"I don't know," you mutter, "After what happened, you made me doubt if our friendship was genuine or because you wanted and were my friend for pity," you confess.
"Y/N…" he tells you in a sigh, sad, denying, "since you left… since we stopped seeing and talking to each other… you don't know everything I wanted to tell you, everything I wanted to apologize for even if you didn't forgive me."
"Aemond…" you call him cautiously, "you can't apologize to me just to make me forgive you and your girlfriend too, you….
"I broke up with Alys."
He interrupts you with the most honest and quickest sentence he's ever said in all the time you've been together, making you freeze once more and stare at him with your lips parted.
And he watches you with the most honest look, wanting to clarify that point as much as possible and that there is no doubt, even feeling proud to say it.
"I broke up with her days after you left the apartment, and that was the last time we saw each other," he explains, in a low, honest tone.
But even after telling you that, you don't feel entirely confident. That's why you lower your gaze and swallow hard as you consider how strong his relationship was.
"But if you go back with her, I don't….
"No, Y/N," he says to you in denial, "I'm done with her for good," he assures you, "I didn't want to and I don't want to have anything to do with her anymore. I don't care anymore, she's nothing to me and never really was in all the time we were together."
You listen to him surprised, attentive, breathing a little faster than usual, not understanding, while he then starts to tell you everything.
Everything he wanted to tell you since your friendship started to fall apart and the moment it broke.
"Alys managed to get my attention a lot when we first met. She led me to believe on our first few dates that a relationship could be good, healthy and loving. But when we finally formalized everything, she started to show herself as the real person she is when she already had me," he explains, "And I naively gave her everything she asked for, even money, because I was obsessed with her and the way she made me feel. She made me feel so unique, so wanted and so special that I-I just…" he lets out a sigh, "I let her hold me in the palm of her hand."
He brings one of his hands to the nape of his neck, ruffling his short hair with his fingers, feeling strange telling you all this, but also feeling it as a necessity for you to listen and understand him.
And you really don't have any problem, you listen to him carefully and let him tell you everything he wants to tell you, still feeling a little sharp pain in your chest.
"She would even tell me things she didn't agree with or like, either about me or my family, making me feel bad and upset sometimes, but then she would turn them into just a point of view and convince me that I had misunderstood her, when I hadn't," he explains to you, "She told me that my mother was very controlling after she met her, that my siblings, even Helaena, seemed very weird to her, and that Daemon didn't seem like a good person."
You are surprised to hear that and pay more attention, while Aemond feels ashamed of himself for telling you this, but it is the truth.
"In that instant I should have put a stop to her, I know. But like the fucking idiot I am, I kept letting myself be easily manipulated by her, because she kept telling me it was just her first impression and her views," he says in a low, sorrowful whisper, "She just had a long conversation with my father without looking bored. I even noticed she changed her attitude and looked more… kind. But only with him."
He says in a bitter tone, while you understand what he's going on about.
"And of course, how could she not be nicer to him," he says with a smile and a bitter look, "With her about to graduate, she told him about that and also about her internship with the man who owns the most important company in the country. She talked about everything she knows and her skills, almost telling him her entire resume so he would hire her."
Now you let out a long breath, must have imagined it.
You thought Alys had really fallen in love with him. That's what you always thought until today when he gave you the news that he broke up with her months ago and that there was no love in the relationship.
You always thought that no girl could reject Aemond for his personality and his looks, that no one could reject him for being him, for knowing him and in an instant wanting to know more about him.
Because that's how you fell in love with him, you didn't fall in love because of what he had and what he could offer you professionally and economically.
But that was just what caught Alys' attention, not his personality and his heart.
"It also happened that when I would talk to her about my classes or an important project that I had worked hard on and got an excellent grade, she would say that it wasn't enough and that I needed to work harder to earn my father's company. She discredited everything I did, telling me that I had to do more so that someday I could be the boss and both of us could run the company, talking about those kinds of plans and almost assuring me that it would be like that," he says seriously and bitterly, "She insulted my friends, saying that they only cared about parties, that they were alcoholics and did not care about their studies, that they were useless and did not contribute anything to me now and would not do so in the future. She also said that I should have more serious and professional friends around me."
He lets out a long breath, really at that moment with you by your side realizing more how really bad his relationship was, the kind of very nasty girl he had by his side and how very blinded he was.
"The same thing happened with you," he says to you, saddened, "Clearly you know because you heard that conversation."
You bite your lips, remembering how bad she made you feel with her words. And so does he, corroborating with her.
"I owe you more than an apology for that, Y/N," he tells you honestly, "You were right, a best friend doesn't leave her best friend aside and that time I didn't even defend you. I should have stopped her, I should have put myself firm with her… but I didn't." he says apologetic, sad and disappointed, "and I'm very sorry for that."
Then you realize that you can't accept those apologies, because it really hurt you a lot to hear that conversation and that he didn't stand up for you because of the way you are and what you like to do.
If things had been the other way around, you would have defended Aemond with all your might, because he was your best friend.
"She was the reason why I started to leave you aside on weekends, why I gradually left you living alone and also why I didn't take care of Vhagar anymore, because she doesn't like dogs," he says seriously and sighs, "She was also the one who convinced me to take her to the ball and planned everything so I would forget your birthday," he confesses to you, saddened. "She deleted messages from you that morning, she confessed it to me when I confronted her when I realized that your birthday had already passed and that even weeks later she made me stay with her so I wouldn't see you. She also planned that stupid two hour dinner with her parents to delay me so I wouldn't notice and let the whole one night go by."
You bite your lips again, not watching him, feeling the urge to cry remembering that day, your birthday, because he also made you feel so bad during and still after by not getting any explanation from him.
And all because of her. But also for him, because he wouldn't put a stop to it.
"And yet I was still with her…" he says in a sigh, incredulous and disappointed in himself, "Like I said, she had me exactly the way she wanted me to be, and she would convince me otherwise when she didn't like something or made me behave differently than she wanted me to."
He shakes his head, feeling annoyed with himself for allowing it, for having fallen so low, letting himself be moved by her as she wanted, making him start to think that his friends were less important than her, his girlfriend.
That she was more important than Y/N, his best friend, who had always been there for him in very good and very difficult times, leaving her and throwing away their friendship of years for a relationship of months.
"She knew exactly what to do and what to say to make me stay," he murmurs, "But Alys never loved me and never really cared for me. She only cared about me out of interest and wanted to be with me out of the same interest, which was all she cared about."
"Did you love her?"
You dare to ask him without observing him, with a thread of voice, while Aemond at your side watches you for a few moments in silence and with his eye wide open in surprise.
I didn't expect you to ask him that, in fact I didn't expect any questions at all, but despite that, he knows the answer.
He knows it since the last time they both saw each other.
"No."
He respond in a low tone but completely serious and honest, while you dare to observe him surprised, but with an almost expressionless gaze and your lips parted.
"At first I came to have a certain affection for her … but only at first," he confesses, "Then it became that obsession with how she made me feel, but nothing else. I never came to love her and I am very relieved by that."
You take your eyes off him, closing your eyes for a moment, letting go of a long breath.
"And after I didn't see you again and I found out that you had gone on exchange… you don't know how that made me feel, Y/N," he swallows hard, "I had lost one of the most important people in my life. life for a fucking relationship and my own behavior. I wasn't thinking, I was an idiot. And I just wanted to scream and break everything for losing you… for not fixing it sooner."
An ugly and huge lump forms in your throat, observing an unimportant point in your room, your gaze lost and your eyes beginning to fill with tears.
You really didn't want to feel that way, you didn't want his words to soften you up, yet…they did.
But you hold back as much as you can, while Aemond next to you feels the same thing that you are feeling, but he doesn't dare to do anything about it, realizing your state, wanting to give you your space.
When you finally take a deep breath and talk to him even without looking at him.
“I missed you a lot too, Aemond. I missed you throughout your relationship with Alys and after I left to Highgarden. I missed you even when you didn't even deserve it."
You confess in a low and honest murmur, completely drawing his attention, you saying nothing else for a few seconds, swallowing the lump in your throat and completely holding back your tears.
While he listens to you and watches surprised, not expecting that, since he thought that all this time you had been hating him. He even thinks you hate him now.
And yes, if it was something like that, there was hatred, resentment, anger and courage for everything that happened, but even so, you also missed it very much.
You missed him, but you didn't forgive him.
"You also don't know how much I hate myself for ending our friendship, Y/N," he tells you in a sad and regretful whisper.
When you look back at him.
“I cannot forgive you, Aemond. Not yet."
And your words are like a dagger in the heart, a wound that, despite the fact that it hurts, accepts and respects it. He certainly didn't expect you to forgive him, but telling him that you had missed him, too, lit a small spark of hope in him. But it was not like that.
And he really respects it.
He doesn't want to make the same mistakes again, and so he does, feeling less weight on his shoulders, relieved that there aren't all those negative feelings between you anymore.
Nor does he expect that after this, everything will be back to the way it was before, because it won't.. He knows it's impossible. And if everything really ends between you both, then he will respect that too.
That's why he nods in your direction, both of you looking into each other's eyes, a understanding look and a small, soft, closed-mouthed smile on his lips, letting you know he's perfectly fine with that.
"Yes, i know," he assures you softly. “It's alright, I understand."
You nod gently in his direction, also placing a small gentle smile and both of you take your gazes away from each other and immersing in a comfortable silence.
Comfortable because finally neither of you feels that weight anymore and everything seems to be… fine.
Both of you have already said everything you wanted to say.
Or almost.
Because in the middle of that silence, Aemond starts thinking fast, having an indecisive debate in his mind, telling himself that enough has been enough, that everything is fine between you now and he doesn't want to ruin it.
But his heart tells him to do it, that there is still more.
While you by his side take your bottle of soda and take a sip, comfortable, this feeling good, but also knowing that this does not mean that the two will resume their friendship.
But for the moment… you enjoy it. You enjoy the moment.
And that's when he speaks again.
"After you left King's Landing…
He starts and you watch him, getting your attention.
"Helaena told me something," let out a long breath, "Something that made me finally realize my feelings and that made me have a little hope, even though you were already gone."
You are still watching him with attention, not having the slightest idea that it could be that what his sister told him, when Aemond looks up at you and looks into your eyes with his soft and honest gaze.
"She told me that you're in love with me."
Your hands become paralyzed first, you stop drinking soda and then your whole body is the one that is motionless, while you observe it with your lips between open, with your confused, attentive and nervous look at the same time.
You don't understand anything.
It's not like you told Helaena about it, in fact no one knows.
And it only makes you feel more nervous that Aemond is there, right next to you, acting completely normal about it, now that he already knows, continuing to observe you in the same way.
But you can't speak, you're still in shock, starting to feel like your pulse is racing too fast.
"She told me that you didn't tell her anything, that she just… knows," he says to you later, still in a soft tone, still making you panic.
You turn your gaze away from him, blink several times, starting to react from panic and nerves and hold your drink tightly.
"You should go."
It's all you say in a thread of voice, not daring to look him in the eye any more and you quickly get up from your bed, wanting to put as much distance as possible between the two of you.
You take Aemond by surprise, who stands up slightly, watching you worried, desperate and a little confused as you go to your door.
When his next words cause you to become paralyzed again, tensing up completely.
"I'm in love with you, too."
He says to you almost desperately, wanting to clarify as soon as possible, watching you attentively and cautiously, slowly getting out of bed to address you very carefully, not wanting to upset you more.
And he begins to explain to you with his soft tone, waiting for the moment so that he turns to you and can talk to you in the eyes, wanting you to see how very honest he is being with you.
"I don't know since when exactly, Y/N. It was probably before we graduated from high school," he lets you know, "That's why I asked you to live with me, because I certainly wouldn't have asked just anyone, and I-I… wanted to be close to you, almost all the time."
Your pulse continues to race, listening to his words carefully, feeling again the urge to cry, even without daring to look at him face to face.
"And all those dates, all those girls I went out with or flirted with at parties…" he sighs, "I told myself that I didn't get any further with them because it just hadn't worked out, when the truth is that I was fooling myself and it was me who didn't take them any further… because they weren't you."
He confesses to you and that's when you can't take it anymore and the first tears fall, starting to shake and with the realization starting to become clear to you as you hear it.
"And I wanted to repress my feelings for you with them, I wanted to fall in love with someone because I didn't want to ruin our friendship, Y/N," he tells you honestly, "And I know it sounds stupid and it's probably tired of hearing it already… but it's the truth. You don't know how much I was terrified of losing you, of losing our friendship because of feelings that weren't reciprocated… or that I thought weren't reciprocated."
Then slowly, Aemond, dares to raise his hand and gently touch your arm, turning you towards him very carefully and tactfully, needing to see you and needing you to see him.
And you let him.
Shaking, but you let him.
And his heart breaks the moment he sees you, with your sad, surprised face, your teary eyes and red cheeks, watching him as if he can't believe it.
"I wish I had known, Y/N," he says softly, watching you with all the love and gentleness in the world, "Because then Alys came, a girl with a personality I hadn't met before, pretending to be a good person and she made me distract myself from you by falling into her games."
You bite your lips, holding back the tears as much as you can, while he continues talking to you and explaining with all the sincerity in the world.
"And I know I was very selfish with all those girls and also with you when I saw you with that guy at that party, having a good time and having fun without me," he confesses with regret, "You don't know how upset I was and how terribly jealous I felt, Y/N. That was when I thought I had lost you for good and I hated myself not only for having ended our friendship, but also for never having confessed my feelings to you and realizing too late… what I lost for a person who wasn't worth it."
He lets out a long breath, biting the inside of his cheek and watching you with all the sincerity, love and affection as he says his next words.
"I love you, Y/N. I have always loved you. Just in the same way you love me…. or loved me," he corrects with a soft sad tone, "I was just too much of a coward to tell you and I didn't give you a chance to tell me either by going out and pretending with all those girls," he lowers his gaze, "I'm sorry."
Then, it's like you're living in a dream.
You don't know if it's real or not.
But you know it's real because of his touch on your arm and the closeness between the two of you, with him looking at you like that, being so terribly honest that it scares you.
It scares you because this is just what you wanted to hear.
This is everything you wanted to hear from him towards you, being just another one of your most pathetic and impossible dreams. But here you are. He has told you.
And that's exactly why you can't control it anymore and right there, in front of him, you lose it completely and the first sob escapes your lips, just as your tears are rushing down your cheeks.
You cover your face completely ashamed, crying, only you don't know if it's from happiness or sadness… or probably both.
But you know you cry because this is what you have been longing to hear for a very long time and you cry wondering why now, why now that things between you are no longer bad but not quite right either.
But mostly you cry because you feel confused.
Since you left King's Landing, one of your purposes was to leave him behind and forget, to undo those feelings for him. But you couldn't.
You still love him.
You love your best friend just the same way he loves you too, being something that was going on for a long time, simultaneously, but without both of you knowing it.
And you feel confused because you don't know if you should finally take this thing you've always wanted, you don't know because of everything that happened, even though he has already explained and apologized to you.
But you don't feel totally confident because he really hurt you so much.
And you don't know if what happened, will happen again and that's just what you don't want. You don't want him to hurt you again.
And Aemond, surprised by your behavior, yet he understands you and doesn't judge you.
That's why he wastes no time and pulls you into a gentle, firm and comforting embrace, letting himself be carried away by his feelings as well.
And you don't push him away. You let him hold you and lock you in his arms, just like you loved him to do when you lived together or saw each other during the day because his hugs have always comforted you and made you feel safe.
And that's also where you can let out your feelings.
He starts to comfort you too with soft words in your ear, stroking your hair with his hand, telling you that it's okay, that everything is fine, that this shouldn't change anything either, that you are the one who has the last word about the two of you.
As he continues to apologize for everything in soft murmurs, holding you tightly against him, not letting you go until you are well.
Until little by little, your sobs begin to decrease and you begin to calm down, sniffling your nose and still hugging him, taking all the time you need until your whole roller coaster of emotions stops.
Aemond doesn't let go, but does so slowly as you begin to stir, watching you intently and worriedly.
You bring your hands to your cheeks, wiping away your tears and sniffling your nose, to which he quickly runs his thumbs over your cheeks as well, still watching you with all that tenderness, that understanding and that affection.
"Are you all right, my pretty one? Do you need anything?"
You deny, again embarrassed, but at least feeling better and less emotional.
"N-no. I'm just… sorry, it wasn't m-my inte…
"Shh, no, it's okay," he interrupts you softly, "it's okay. This was my fault, I never meant to make you react like this. I should have been more careful with you."
"It wasn't that, Aemond," you confess, sniffling once more, "You took me by surprise, that's all. And I-I c-couldn't control myself, i-it was too much."
"Yes, I know, I know, pretty one. It's all right, everything's all right."
And again he pulls you into a soft, comforting embrace that you allow, now no longer feeling like those earlier hugs where before between the two of you there was the word friendship.
Now it's something more… something more intimate and more… honest.
And that's because both of you finally know each other's true feelings.
But still… after this, what you need is time. And that's exactly what you're asking for.
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i couldn't tag many of you and I apologize if you asked me to tag you and I didn't, I could have missed your user but thank u so much for reading 😢❤
tag list:
@winxschester @namoreno @fan-goddess @lauftivy @bellameshipper @iloveallmyboys @barnes70stark @amazingnerd @yentroucnagol @helaenaluvr @almostpurplelady @lilitheal @targaryenmoony @dangerousstateofmind @summerposie
868 notes · View notes
babyleostuff · 8 months
Note
Can you do a SVT reactions to when svt and their s/o gets shipped online
tbh, i didn't have an idea how to write this :< still, i hope this is good enough!
seventeen when they get shipped with their s/o | ot13
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CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 
𓆩♡𓆪  Hell yeah, that's how it should be. You are the most amazing person in the universe and the fact that other people think you go well together???  There's literally nothing better for him. But deep down, is so so relieved to see how much people love to see you together and support you (and he is quick to shut down the haters if any appear:)))
YOON JEONGHAN 
𓆩♡𓆪 You spend hours on going through edits and you love every second of it. It's so heartwarming how people show you support and he cannot help but smile anytime he comes across pictures of you together. You always have this look (full of love) when looking at him, but he can't quite pinpoint what is so special about it (because he doesn't realise how much you love him).
HONG JOSHUA 
𓆩♡𓆪 Unless you don't tell him, he's actually not aware that you're being shipped online. He couldn't really care less though. As long as you're happy and people do not bother you, it's all good. He is happy to see that other people like seeing you together, but it's not the most important thing to him.
WEN JUNHUI 
𓆩♡𓆪 Blushes anytime he comes across pictures of you together, and definitely dies of cuteness at those compilations on TikTok. That is also when he notices all the small touches and unseen stares from you, which he finds so so adorable and he cannot wait for you to come home so he can smother you with love.
KWON SOONYOUNG 
𓆩♡𓆪 He definitely knows that people ship you, but isn't that keen on keeping up with it. Checks the fanpages from time to time, to save some cute pictures of you. Is very grateful that people do not mind you being together, but he doesn't like to focus on that. No matter whether people ship you or not, his feelings about you won't change.
JEON WONWOO
𓆩♡𓆪 Secretly loves the edits and he spends a lot of his time melting over how sweet and lovely you are. Especially when he's away, because he misses you :((( He usually doesn't notice how gentle you're being with each other and how many small and reassuring touches you exchange, but the edits show it all. And even he can't deny the love that fills his eyes every time he looks at you.
LEE JIHOON
𓆩♡𓆪  Similarly to Joshua and Soonyoung, does not really care. No matter whether people would ship you or not, he loves you for you. So as long as there are no "fan wars'' or drama surrounding your relationship, he's fine with that. But the second he sees people fighting about something concerning your relationship, he's quick to shut the whole situation down.
LEE SEOKMIN 
𓆩♡𓆪 Giggles over the photos and comments on twitter. Probably has a secret account from which he comments on the edits and your "top 10 cutest moments” threads. Randomly sends you screenshots of something he found particularly funny or sweet. He could not be happier to see how much people like you being together and the content that comes with it is just *chefs kiss*.
KIM MINGYU  
𓆩♡𓆪 I'm not sure about this one. Because on one side I can totally see him freaking out about the edits, photos and comments, gushing how good you two look together and that you're the visual couple. But on the other side, I feel like he couldn't really care less. Of course, he appreciates the content that is being created, but he would rather focus on you, than what is going on online.
XU MINGHAO 
𓆩♡𓆪 Is fine with it, but to an extent. As long as there is no drama and no hate targeted towards you, it's all good. But the second he sees hateful comments, he goes on Weverse to remind people about boundaries and how he does not appreciate hate towards his partner whatsoever. Is very transparent about it, does not care if people hate him for that.
BOO SEUNGKWAN 
𓆩♡𓆪 You laugh about the "Seungkwan and his s/o bantering for 10 minutes straight", because you genuinely do not realise how much and how often you bicker with each other (and how funny it is from others' pov). It also puts him more at ease to know that people do not mind you two being together.
CHWE VERNON
𓆩♡𓆪 You love the memes more than anything. You have probably exchanged hundreds of those. You have tens of "reaction pictures" ready to use, depending on the context. You appreciate the good part of the shipping and try no to focus on the bad one. And if you see any hate, he just takes your phone away to reassure you how much he cares about you.
LEE CHAN 
𓆩♡𓆪 Another one that would love love love the edits, he'd have a whole folder dedicated to them. He never thought he'd be able to see his relationship from other people's perspective, but thanks to the shipping and people making content of it, he was. And he would never forget the first time he saw how in love you two looked.
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liliamoon · 1 year
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Out-Of-Context Quotes From My Geology Professor
In honor of the end of my finals week, I compiled a bunch of random quotes from my geology professor:
“There’s reality, and then there’s Boulder, Colorado.”
“The Earth slowly loses heat to space, so eventually Earth will solidify. Except by that time, the sun will have engulfed us and we’ll be vaporized, so!”
“In a billion years, the Earth will barely be habitable, but to be honest, I’m not really losing sleep over it.”
“What also floats in water? Jesus… and witches, and very small rocks.”
“My grandma is from Ohio— they don’t have rocks there.”
“But you can’t watch them after 10 p.m. because that’s when aliens go home.”
“So quartz-rich rocks are siliceous, clay-rich rocks are argillaceous, and the Black-Eyed Peas are Fergilicious.”
“I can just see everyone’s faces start glazing over when I get talking about national park bathrooms.”
“Don’t feel bad, I used to wear socks with sandals, too.”
“Anticline points up, syncline points down. You can remember this because anticline looks like an A, and syncline— if you sin, you’re going down.”
“Death doesn’t matter when you have credit card debt.”
“I’m an old schist.”
“See, look, that poor sheep will never be fossilized.”
“I would say the best place to find gold is… Jared’s?”
“Saltating benthos— I always thought that would be a good name for a band. I mean, it is kinda like a rolling stone.”
“WHY are we FRENCH?”
“There’s enough death to go around!”
“This is not a part of my regular curriculum, but the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser? That stuff works so well!”
“Do you want to see a picture of the moose that chased me this past weekend?”
Bonus: my American literature professor once said “I haven’t really had a near-death experience. If anything, it was the opposite: a near life experience. Y’know, like, I almost had a life.”
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mydearesthrry · 8 months
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A Compilation of Y/nrry on Stage - h.s.
a/n: self indulgent, once again. been watching a couple of old 1d concert vids lately and this just came to me like i think i wrote all of this in about 20 mins? enjoyyyyyyy
🎀 warnings/cw: nothing, fluff, cursing?
🐇 pairing: 1dbandmember!yreader x fratboyera!harry
💐 wc: 1.2k
summary: 3 moments during the take me home tour where ynrry shined through on stage.
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Y/N could sense mischief from a mile away. From the second the fans screamed to looking over at where they were pointing, she knew she was fucked. Clad in a light pink shirt and crop top that only showed an inch about her torso, she tried to run away from Louis but the stilettos on her feet gave her no opportunity to. 
“Louis! Louis stop, don’t!” Her pleading seemingly wasn’t enough because, within a blink of an eye, she was drenched in cold water. The two of them immediately knew what this meant. 
It meant war. And she was determined to get all of her bandmates on her side to defeat Louis. 
At first, she tried running after him, but when she realized it was no use since he was so fast and she was in heels, she called Harry over and immediately told him to turn around and crouch to help her. Harry, who had seen the entire interaction, was immediately down and got down without question. She hopped up on his back, motioning at Zayn for him to throw her a water bottle, Harry immediately started running toward Harry. 
As he ran, her in-ear monitors made her remember that she was to sing soon, and she raised her mic to her lips, singing softly. “And if we get together, yeah get together, don’t let the pictures leave your phone! Do you guys think I can beat Louis?” She screamed, following her lyrics, giggling at the loud cheers from the crowd. Harry continued running, and Y/N looked down to see that Niall and Liam were running with them, water bottles in their hands as well. 
Louis glanced over his shoulder and saw them running after him, pulling a face and running away faster. Unfortunately, he was too slow, and they all eventually caught up to him. Zayn too, who was right behind him and making sure he didn’t run away. Liam and Niall caught Louis by his arms, holding him still so their best friend could get her revenge. Harry stalked over to them and set her down, Y/N still singing as she had Harry crack open her bottles. Giggles instead of melodies filled the stadium speakers as she poured the water over his head. The rest of the boys handed her their water, and she continued to pour water on Louis. 
“Paybacks a bitch, Tommo.” She grinned, grabbing him by the back of his neck and into a hug, pushing him away when their cue came in to start doing the rowing dance move. They all stood in a staggered line, laughing loudly while they danced. 
Everyone else flared away, but Harry stayed. He bent down, mouth close to her ear as he popped out her in-ear, and very softly, whispered, “Good job on your victory, Princess.”
The band sat in their respective spots, the soft guitar for Summer Love filtering through the air. In front of Harry, a little off to the side was Y/N, who had the brightest gleam in her eyes, admiring the crowd. It was during songs like these that she allowed herself to bask in the feeling of fame, one that often consumed and overwhelmed her. She giggled when she waved at a few fans and they started screaming and crying in response to her. She glanced over her shoulder to see if Harry had seen that, and smiled wider when she saw he already had a grin on his face. 
Raising the mic to his lips, he followed Zayn’s lyrics, and since Y/N was already looking over at him, she twisted on her bottom, being careful of her skirt. Her eyes traced all of Harry’s features, them being nearly enhanced due to the bright spotlights on him. Finishing his part of the first verse, his eyes flicked back to her, nose scrunching cutely. She blew a playful kiss back, laughing when his cheeks became overtaken by a pinkish hue. Jumping down from her spot, she walked over to the back of the stage to retrieve her phone, before jogging back to her spot, confusing Harry when she passed it and instead beelined for him. 
Plopping down next to him, she swiped on her phone until she got to the camera app, holding it up to be level with their faces. They pulled a couple of funny faces before she tossed her phone over to Liam and Niall to the right of her, who grabbed it with ease. They started snapping pictures too, Liam turning to face his back to the crowd, taking a selfie with them too. The mic was on her lips, and they motioned her to catch it, but she shook her head no. 
They tossed the phone back to her anyway, but she missed the catch and clenched her eyes shut, only for them to snap open again when she felt two taps on her thighs. Opening her eyes, she saw Harry grinning at her with a shit-eating grin, holding her phone in his hand. 
She rolled her eyes, grabbing it from him and unlocking it again. She pulled up her camera roll app, looking at the pictures of her and Harry. She smiled and set one of the funnier ones as her home screen background. She turned her phone to Harry, and he grinned at her, trying to subtly move his arm behind her back to rub it. Turning to him, she held up a hand to block the crowd from seeing what she was whispering into his ear. 
The crowd screamed when they saw this, but they would never know that the words she whispered into his ear were ‘I love you’.
 As Niall talked to the crowd, Y/N and Harry pulled their in-ears out of their ears to talk to each other, something that was extremely common at their concerts. 
“What d’you wanna order from the hotel when we get back? ‘M starving and I miss you. I feel like I’ve not seen you all day.” Harry said— shouted, knowing she could barely hear over the volume of the crowd. She turned around, shrugging her shoulders. Harry rolled his eyes, and she tiptoed, the heels on her feet not being enough to be able to reach his ears. 
“I‘ve been craving pizza since this morning, maybe that if they have it. We can cuddle when we get back to the hotel, but you have to shower, you’re all sweaty. As for the pizza,” She questioned in his ear. “I’m not sure what toppings yet, but maybe we can agree on some?” 
He nodded, giving a thumbs up, “Wanna join me in the shower?” She looked at him with an annoyed expression, but he had a boyish grin on his face.”‘M putting olives on the pizza.” 
“Oh, absolutely not, are you serious? Harry, that’s disgusting.” She pulled a face of disgust, putting her hand on his face to push him away. He had the biggest look of offense on his face, and she giggled. He didn’t get far from her push, only about 1 foot away. She laughed when she heard him scream ‘Say sorry!’, and she shook her head no. 
“You know I hate olives! I’m picking all of them off and giving them to you.” She grinned back, and he rolled his eyes again, but with the look he gave her, it was obvious that he would do anything for her.
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firstkanaphans · 2 months
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Hello Sarah sorry to bother you. I'm a new fan kinda but I'm done with watching all the firstkhao dramas (together and individual) but tbh I'm kinda lost on how I will get to know them better. I have no idea about their irl personalities that much. Maybe you can give a little introduction for me if it's not too much of a bother? Also like how they met and why are they doing so many projects together? And are they good friends irl too (my friend told me a lot of time pair actors don't really get along with each other which is why I got curious about their dynamic) Sorry if these questions are a bit dumb I'm altogether very new in bl fandoms so don't have a lot of ideas.
Oh, Anon. I don’t think you know what you’ve signed up for here. If you want a FK primer, I can give you a FK primer!
Both First and Khaotung started working for GMMTV back in 2018. I’m pretty sure talent agents simply slid into their DMs, so there was no formal audition process, but I could be wrong about that. They were both in university at the time. I’m not quite sure what they were doing that attracted the attention of the talent agents. I know First had been in at least one commercial prior, but I don’t believe Khaotung had done any acting. He had, however, had a picture go viral because he’s just so stinkin’ adorable. I think maybe this one? 
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Or it could have been one of these…
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Either way, they ended up in an acting workshop together right after they joined. Khaotung talks about how he didn’t like First at first because he was too friendly and talkative, but I think that must have only lasted for like a day because it was during this same workshop where he discovered that his heart beats to the sound of First’s name—“FirFirFir”—and yes, that is a real thing that he has admitted out loud on multiple occasions. They have been best friends ever since.
From there, the two of them began to act in individual projects—mostly BLs—and although I have no proof of this, I am entirely convinced that they were playing a long con to get themselves partnered together. They did way more fanservice before they were partnered than they do now. Feel free to watch this live from 2020 where they alternate between staring lovingly in each other's eyes and just outright flirting for an hour straight.
Look, they’re smart boys. They knew that their best path to success in this industry was to be in a fixed pair and they wanted that pair to be each other. How do I know? Because these two adorable idiots were showing up to events in matching outfits.
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This picture was taken in January 2021 when Tonhon Chonlatee was actively airing! There's a picture from this same event of them with Podd, who Khao was paired with, and Podd looks like the odd man out.
They were finally paired together for The Eclipse in 2022 and spent the entire press tour either talking about how excited they were to finally work together or crying about the possibility that they might never be able to work together again. I would highly recommend you watch The Eclipse special episode if you haven’t already. In it, First talks about how there was one scene where Khao wasn’t supposed to cry but he kept crying anyway because First was crying and he cared about First so much. 
And speaking of crying, if you want to watch a compilation of FK crying about how much they love each other (and other things!), you can find that here.
One thing I would recommend if you want to get to know FK better is to watch a bit of Safehouse Season 4. It’s unscripted, so you’ll get a sense of their personalities, but First was also in an arm cast at the time, so you’ll get to watch Khao dote on him for seven days straight.
Oh and you have to watch this! If you ever see people talking about the voices in First’s head, that's why.
Obviously, we can never truly know what goes on behind closed doors for any of these BL couples, but I feel pretty confident in saying that FirstKhao are genuine besties. They literally do everything together. You can find a collection of some of their lovestagram pics here although there are so many more now. It never stops.
Actual things they have said to each other un-prompted:
First to Khao: I want to build a house with the same fences as you.
Khao to First: As you grow up, you will meet many new friends. Leave them and stay with me.
I’m wracking my brain for anything else that feels important for a new fan to know and am coming up blank, but I’m sure I’ll probably think of something right after I post this. They’re both just super sweet individuals who have never been involved in any controversy and I think what people love most about them is just how much they care about each other. They’ve got that whole platonic soulmate thing going on and we're all super jealous.
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yridenergyridenergy · 4 months
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The wholesome-ish friendship between Shinya and Kyo
Their latest playful Q&A in Haiiro no Ginka vol. 100 has prompted me to compile examples of this weird but overall wholesome relationship that Kyo and Shinya have and which is not obvious at first.
Situation #1
In October 2017, Kyo gifted Shinya with a custom white version of a MadaraNingen one-piece. As far as I remember, that article of clothing was not available for purchase in white at all, to the public. And of course, we all know that Shinya prefers to wear white.
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Situation #2
I think that in response to Shinya sharing a video of him briefly playing with the minicars that were sold as tour goods in This Way to Self-Destruction, Kyo posted a story on Instagram of him revving up a bunch of mini-cars and persistently making them hit his phone propped up on a counter and displaying a picture of Shinya. At age 43. To which Shinya made an Instagram post vaguely hinting that: "Good children should not play with the mini-cars to hit someone's picture!"
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Kyo's Instagram Story "The proper way to use mini-cars" video
Shinya's translated response
Situation #3
In late 2022-early 2023, Shinya publicly celebrated his bandmates' birthdays via emojis on Twitter, and Kyo was the only one to respond, in kind.
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Situation #4
Kyo posted a cryptic picture of Shinya's video meeting with Mana in an Instagram Story and he has mentioned on Twitter at least once that he was watching Shinya Channel (the making of the FaFa onigiri).
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In the same vein, Shinya took his failed attempt at needle-felting a pink bunny in March 2022 and turned it into a miniature hammer-wielding bunny in October 2022, in response to sukekiyo unveiling their Mosaic Shoujo PV which featured Kyo in the killer bunny suit.
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Situation #5
This very old video of Kyo teasing Shinya by pinching the side of his dress, Shinya reacting by pushing Kyo a bit and Kyo falling into a robot dance in response.
Situation #6
The coffee maker. In one of the live talks held during the COVID-19 pandemic at concert venues, Shinya mentioned having a coffee maker which was of no use to him, and Kyo expressed interest in taking it from him. Later, in the Galacaa livestream talk between the two, it was revealed that Shinya had promised to give Kyo his coffee maker, but he never pulled through on that offer. Kyo, sporting a doodled face to hide his own, insistently questioned Shinya on this unreliability when the topic was brought up by fans in the comments. Shinya kind of struggled but ended up explaning that the coffee maker was really useless because of a defect, that it would not have been an appropriate gift anymore. But he forgot to update Kyo about it after he tried to contact the manufacturer. Kyo replied like: "Oh, alright then."
At some point, Kyo took the matter to Twitter, confronting Shinya about it with their respective member photos to illustrate the dialogue, and Shinya replied the same way.
Situation #7
In that same livestream, Shinya is so used to Kyo's bullshit by now that he completely ignores Kyo's doodle face sheet and casually leans forward to look past him and at the interviewer, sat on Kyo's right. After a while of this, the interviewer points out to Shinya that Kyo is insistently staring at him with this disturbing face, which is when Shinya becomes startled and nervously laughs upon realizing that, also making Kyo chuckle.
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Situation #8
More often than others, Shinya and Kyo are documented chatting on the chairs backstage while they wait for everyone to be ready to start the show. Maybe there's something to be said of how they are the two members of the band to leave the stage the quickest, while Kaoru, Toshiya and Die stay for a while to throw picks.
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Situation #9
Miscellaneous pictures of the two:
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Situation #10
Apparently it was Shinya's earbuds that Kyo used to play with the cat (also Shinya's?) in this famous old video.
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Situation #11
Other interactions on Twitter include commentary regarding the song battles that fans were voting on via that same website, during live broadcasts from their manager Fujieda on Galacaa. Kyo and Shinya were the only two members reacting to the songs that were pulled out of the box, Kyo sometimes replying to Shinya's own tweets wondering what he meant or outright questioning his preference.
Another interaction consisted in Kyo copying Shinya's tweets regarding the release of their Phalaris album and twisting Shinya's cute comments into hellish versions.
Situation #12
Probably a bunch of elusive comments throughout the years, but here's an example of something that Shinya said about Kyo in a magazine interview.
Situation #13
In Haiiro no Ginka vol. 100, the members were asked to send each other member five questions. Some chose to personalize them based on what they actually wanted to ask of the others, while a couple decided to send the same questions to all, but members were not told who the questions came from. Kyo picked up on that anonymous part of the game and when answering Shinya's set of questions, he ended each of his short answers with a second sentence that can either just be the Kansai dialect for: "Aren't you Shinya!", or in other dialects, translates more to: "Shinya, you bastard!" hahah. From what I saw, nobody else hinted at who they thought the questions came from in their answers. In reverse, Kyo took up two of his five alloted questions for Shinya with the simple statement: "You don't know you're dead yet!", a quote from Fist of the North Star which is highly intimidating as it hints that someone has defeated the character so easily and lightning-fast that they are a dead man standing, their body having trouble catching up with the reality that they were slaughtered. Shinya, in response to that repeated tease, stubbornly replies in his polite and formal Japanese that: "No, I'm not dead." Their Q&A with the other members were not nearly that quirky.
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... Did I miss any? And there will undoubtedly be more to come!
Thank you very much to shinyaburashka for your help!
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