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dawndelion-winery · 2 months

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Thanks for the Flowers

You send them a little prank thank you text with flowers they never sent

Ft: Alhaitham, Arlechinno, Childe, Scaramouche, Wriothesley

Alhaitham:

You thought it would be a funny prank to send him a stock image of flowers and a small thank you

"Glad you like them."

He smiles to himself, but then immediately deleted his message when he sees the attached image

That wasn't the bouquet he sent

His smile drops so fast because who exactly is sending you flowers apart from him?

"Throw those out, they aren't from me. Don't you like the one I sent more? I got your favourites, my love."

He gives the house a cursory scan the moment he steps in through the front door

It's only after you've given him his welcome home kiss and a hug that he starts looking for the bouquet for some trace of who the sender might be

At first he doesn't believe you when you say it's a prank because he wouldn't put it past you to just want to allay his worries

He'll come around though, and then he's annoyed

"That's childish and you know it, you can have my attention if you just ask for it."

Arlechinno:

This is her sign to publicly announce that you're with her because this sort of idiocy wouldn't be an issue if people knew you were spoken for

Initially chuckles to herself as she glares at the offending image

"Do you like them?"

Of course she's not telling you the weren't from her if you like them

The poor sucker who sent them to you deserves no credit anyway

If anything, they deserve her personal thanks for helping her gift you something!

Of course she needs to know their name and face to express her gratitude in person <33

In a totally genuine and non-threatening way (lie)

She ends up coming home late that day, having scared off any of your potential suitors just to be safe

"Had some unsavoury business come up, dearest, sorry to keep you waiting. Have you had dinner yet? No? Shall we dine together?"

She never brings it up though, so you sorta forget to ever tell her it was a joke

Childe:

At first he doesn't process that he didn't send you the flowers

It's not like he doesn't pay attention, but he has his subordinates send you so much stuff as he comes across it that it's really hard to keep track

For all he knows it might have been something he came across and spontaneously thought of you liking it

And your likes were pretty much needs to him

"Love you, my pookie <33"

And then he stows his phone away

Only to remember he hasn't gotten you any flowers that day

"My honey drumlet darling-kins, there doesn't happen to be a note attached to the flowers, is there?"

When you insist that no, there isn't, and you've checked thoroughly, he makes a mental note to look into anyone who's ever had a crush on you

For a friendly spar, of course!

He just needs to make sure his competition is even worth noting (they aren't)

He comes home, thoroughly disappointed that none of them could even hold their own against him - few even dared to try, scared shitless by the sudden appearance of a harbinger demanding they fight

Sweaty and tired, he's all over you, whining about his day and how everyone wants you and can't take a hint that you're so happy with him ("You are, aren't you? I'm your favourite.")

Of course you cave and tell him it was only a prank

He scowls at first, but then breaks out giggling as he buried his face in the crook of your neck

"It doesn't really matter because I think they're all scared of me anyway. Some of them took one look at me and blanched. Unlike you, of course; the sight of me excites you, doesn't it?"

Ah. There's your bastard ginger.

Scaramouche:

"Wrong number, I think you meant to text your side hoe."

Sends you the most unbothered replies

Is actually overthinking

He knows logically this is most likely a joke because he swears he has seen that bouquet somewhere on the internet when looking for flower arrangement inspiration

But what if it's just a really similar layout and someone actually did send it to you?

Horrible. He doesn't want to think about it

But of course he does anyway

Brings you flowers because he planned to sneakily replace the stranger's bouquet

Wriothesley:

"Honey, please tell me this is a joke."

Seething inside

Who in their right mind dared to covet you while you were happily dating him??

Don't even try evade his interrogation, he needs to know every detail

From the exact time the flowers were sent to the arrangement and paper quality

Don't mind him, it's just a small investigation he'll carry out in his free time

The sooner you come clean the better

Not that you'll go unpunished...but hey, confessing to your crimes must at least lighten the sentence, yeah?

Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyarobin @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating @lemeowade

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captainwans · 2 months

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AM ERA PT. II (smau)

— ALEX TURNER

arabella series!

pairing: alex turner x fem! actress! reader

summary: the fans can’t get enough of their relationship and share their thoughts and feelings on the arabella mv, including a “new” discovery on y/n’s side from the comments.

timeline: 2014

note: layout / format by the beautiful @ithinkimokeei <3

masterlist!

Liked by zendaya, yourbestfriend and others

yourinstagram 🤍🖤

ㅤ View all the comments

username babe yourinstagram just posted

username SHES A GODESS

username live love laugh y/n

breanahelders the woman you are 😩😍

yourinstagram you’re my woman 😙

matthelders didn’t know we shared her

breanahelders matthelders babe not now

username matt is so funny i love him

username oh no 🧎🏾‍♀️ what’s happening to me

mileskane looking beautiful love ❤️

yourinstagram ❤️😙

username i was waiting for miles to roast her

username no bc me too 😭😭

yourbestfriend holy mama i’m so gay 😳

officialelizabetholsen so real 😩

username the women in the comments ✨😌💅🏼

username alex doesn’t even have ig and if he had i know he be barking at how hot his gf is 😫

matthelders trust me he is barking

Liked by imsebastianstan, elsapataky and others

yourinstagram a little bts ✨ (📷: wife breana)

ㅤ View all the comments

username my parents looks so hot

username i’m loving this new theme of hers!

username same!! i love how it matches the am

username the mv was so sexy idk if i wanted to look at alex or y/n

yourbestfriend nah i was looking at y/n the whole time who tf is alex?!! 🤨

username and you’re so iconic for that sis

username the content we’re getting lately is just immaculate keep going queen

username literally two of my worlds colliding

username y/n & arctic monkeys fans 🤝

username oh to be arabella

username *to be y/n

username what i also loved about the mv was that they put some clips from the arabella movie

username y/n am era > alex am era

matthelders who said she was YOUR wife?

yourinstagram me, myself & i 😌

breanahelders what she said 🤩 matthelders go get the divorce papers

username LMAO

username IM CACKLING THIS IS SO FUNNY

username this is so gold i love this trio

matthelders i’m telling alex 😡

username um hello is no one gonna talk about them KISSING in the mv??!

username i was literally waiting for that comment!!!

username their kiss is living in my head rent free ✨✨✨🤩🤩🤩🤩

username i still haven’t recovered from that

username forever jealous

username he was kissing me y’all

username sorry boo but that was me

username if alex had ig i would’ve asked him if her lips tasted like the galaxy’s edge

username and if he kissed the color of a constellation falling into place

username and asking him if his days end best when this sunset gets itself

mileskane username he’s sitting beside me and he confirmed that her lips did taste like the galaxy’s edge 😳 🌌

username gripping my hair, sliding against the wall, sobbing, crying, throwing fits—ALEX

username IM SCREAMING MY HEART CANNOT TAKE THIS 😭😭😭

username i love this comment section sm

Liked by officialelizabetholsen, madisonbeer and others

yourinstagram vogue ✨🤍

ㅤ View all the comments

vogue: always a pleasure to have you 💋

username: y/n y/l/n is such an icon.

username: new era new y/n

breanahelders: those LEGS 😫

yourinstagram: open for you ;)

matthelders: can you two take this somewhere else pls 😒

mileskane: dang matthelders you just lost your girl

yourbestfriend: don’t blame him

matthelders: 💀💀 yourbestfriend

matthelders: just signed the divorce papers 😞 i can never win

breanahelders: matthelders babe don’t take this personally it’s not you

yourbestfriend: matthelders it is actually you

matthelders: yourbestfriend you can eat my foot

username: lmao y/bsf/n

username: i can’t with them

username: poor matt 😭😭

username: y/n’s comment section is a comedy show 😭😂

username: i love how breana and y/n are so gay for each other

username: i mean look at them i want them both

username: literally need her so bad 😫

username: HOW MANY LETTERS IN Y/N

username: ugh she’s everything

rosiehw: remind me why you’re not a model? 🤤

yourinstagram: i could never 😫

yourbestfriend: *you could i mean vs 👀

username: lmao yourbestfriend

username: no but seriously

username idk if i wanna be her or be with her

username: ok alex i get it now 😫

username: since no one has mentioned it is anyone else forgetting that i bet you look good on the dance floor was also about y/n

username: context pls

username: wait REALLY? EXPLAIN

username: that’s not true—is it??

username: he confirmed it during an interview years ago why are y’all so clueless

username: but he didn’t mention her name tho?? only that it was a “popular actress”

yourbestfriend: username put two and two together sis 😭

username: lmao do you think y/n knows

yourbestfriend: knowing her dumb ass i don’t think so

username: did y’all forget that y/n filmed a movie back in 2005 in sheffield 👀 yeah

username: there you have it

username: it all makes sense

username: i thought we all knew that 😭

username: in conclusion they were meant to be sorry i don’t make the rules

pinned comment 📌 yourinstagram: how come when i look for any information my only source is you guys (not that i’m complaining tho)

yourbestfriend: bc you’re so so fucking clueless that’s why babe

yourfriend: 😭😭😭

mileskane: how did we go from y/n’s legs to i bet you look good on the dance floor?

username: wtf is going on???

katiee_cook_: i’ve given up at this point

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner imagines #alex turner fic #alex turner fluff #alex turner imagine #alex turner one shot #alex turner fic rec #alex turner series #alex turner fanfic #alex turner arctic monkeys #alex turner x fem! reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner social media au

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abybweisse · 5 months

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Ch206 (p4), My family would never

After Theo asks what the teachers think of their honed aptitudes, Doll finds it funny...

...and says they are imitations that can never surpass the real thing/originals. She's aiming for Mabel, and we see reactions from Finny, Oliver, Susan -- I officially hate her now -- and Snake. Snake looks like he might rush to Mabel's aide.

As he moves to help Mabel, Snake is thinking about his circus family, and how he can't believe they would really kidnap kids and harm them (or put them in harm's way).

I've rearranged these next two panels, just so you can see them in the original layout. Doll strikes out with the broken glass, but instead of hitting Mabel, the blow lands on the left side of Snake's neck.

This gash must be very deep, because it's spurting blood out, not just oozing. Also, blood quickly starts to spill out of his mouth, suggesting not only has the carotid probably been cut, but so has his windpipe and/or esophagus. He still seems to be in disbelief that she would lash out against a child like that, but he can barely get the words out.

When Doll realizes what she's done, she freaks out in a panic, because he's the one person there she would never wish to harm.

But would she do anything necessary to try to save him? Is there anyone there who has the skills to help him at all? If the top students and Finny could band together and combine their knowledge and skills to help him, would Doll agree to a truce to let them? Would she force Susan and other staff to stand down and stay out of the way... or even help? Too many questions here... and I think it'll be too late for Snake by the time anyone can figure out what to do.

We haven't seen a reaper in this assignment, that we know of. But this doesn't mean Snake will live. There could have been one there the whole time, but they stayed in hiding, unlike Ronald at the sanatorium, etc. Sometimes the reaper organization gets alerts of unexpected deaths, too... when they happen, right? It would be nice to get a shinigami pass, but I can't expect it to happen for him.

Since I'm now expecting Snake to die from this wound, we might get some backstory for him, either as memories before he dies, or as cinematic records when a reaper shows up. Since we know how he joined the Phantomhive household, we might just get earlier memories, like more details from before/when he joined the circus.

Take note that not once this chapter has Snake spoken for his snakes; it's all been for himself. I should think that his flashbacks or memories would be speaking for himself, or perhaps for himself and the snakes.

Poor Snake. 😞 😢

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

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Hiya, you think you could do a jealous! Enid x reader story where the reader is getting attention from another person and Enid is…less than for that. To make a long story short, the reader isn’t getting Enid’s hints so she has to say it straight to their face?

Enid wouldn’t admit to jealously but she didn’t have to because everyone at Nevermore could see it, clear as day upon her usually preppy face. The reason? The new transfer student, a fae named Charlie, had been hogging your attention the second they stepped foot in Nevermore. Whenever you went, Charlie went even when you didn’t share the same classes; Charlie would still follow you like a lost puppy dog. Desperately clinging onto the claim that they were still getting use to Nevermore’s layout or that they ‘forgot’ where a specific classroom was. So when someone offered up their help, Charlie would merely brush it off before going on to say that your help was the only help that they wanted.

At first Enid understood that it was your task to help give Charlie the rundown of the school grounds, the dos and don’ts, the cliques, the extracurriculars and so on. She had the same responsibilities placed on her when Wednesday first arrived to Nevermore and she was thankful for how respectful you were at that time. However what she doesn’t understand was that even after getting accommodated to everything, Charlie seemed to hang on to your side even more then before; Stealing you away from her before she could even utter a word to you and going so far as to shoot her a smug look when the fae dragged you far enough from your friends. This has became so routine that Enid felt it was time to call in for some reinforcements.

“What’s this about Enid.” Wednesday asked straightforwardly as she, Thing, Enid herself and Xavier were scattered about the dorm room in a rather messy formation. Enid heaved a heavy sigh, “y/n has been stolen-“ “y/n has been stolen!? Enid, how come you haven’t told principle Weems about this, they could be anywhere by now. Dead even!” Xavier exclaimed as he stood up from his chair and was about to storm to the door when Wednesday ordered Thing to stop him before he did anything unnecessarily dramatic. “Y/n isn’t really stolen. Enid is just jealous that Charlie keeps taking y/n away from us and when I mean us specifically, I mean her.”

Xavier’s eyes softened as he looked at Enid who was sat at her desk, moping over a framed photo she kept of the two of you after official becoming friends. Her fingers trailed across your smile and the creases they left across your skin before stopping to boop your nose. The poor girl wore her emotions so openly it was a wonder how you haven’t caught onto how badly Enid clings to your arm as you walk down the hallway to class, how she would always save you a seat during lunch and share with you anything remotely good that was up for grabs; Nor how she laughs at everything you said -funny or not- but most of all you didn’t seem to notice the sparkle in her eyes that Enid would get when you enter the room as though you had life and light behind you.

Everyone could tell Enid liked you but it was the hard task of making you see that her actions were based more then kindness and friendship like you’ve let yourself believe. Thing would on the verge of screaming, Wednesday looked as though she was contemplating murder, Enid was the literal definition of a lost puppy and Xavier himself felt like a disappointed dad at your nativity towards her advances. “I’ve heard of Charlie, seen them around a couple of times but even I can tell their bad news and I don’t want y/n getting dragged in that.” Xavier said as his eyes darken in protectiveness. You were his friend first and foremost and he wasn’t about to let some fae get away with any devious dark shit that they might have up their sleeve.

“None of us do. So how about we devise a plan to keep Charlie at bay whilst you grab y/n, taken them somewhere secluded like my art studio for instance and confess your feelings?” Enid perked her head up at this and looked at Xavier with a hopeful expression. “You think it could work? You think I could get my y/n back from the evil clutches of that…that bitch.” Xavier shrugs, “it’s worth a shot, I’m game if you are,” he turns to Wednesday and Thing, “Wednesday? Thing? You guys in?” Thing scurried to a marker pen on the desk and used it to draw two thick horizontal lines across his skin on either side before tossing away the marker.

Wednesday looked up from Thing to address Xavier with a blank stare, “Thing and I are in but we’ll mostly be your eyes in the skies for this operation. As much as I hate to say this but y/n is my,” she swallowed thickly, “friend too and Charlie shall pay the price for taking what doesn’t belong to them.” Enid practically felt giddy at her friends willingness to help her get you back that she couldn’t conceal the squeal that left her lips as she hugged Xavier so tight, the poor boy swore he was loosing oxygen.

“Awww, Thank you guys! Thank you guys so much for helping me out! I love you all so much, you have no idea how much this means to me!” Xavier was practically tapping out at this point at how insanely strong Enid was before reminding himself that she was a werewolf. Just a werewolf unable to transform; Still the immense strength that a werewolf possesses was no joke. “Just glad to be part of the team.” He croaked, feeling about ready to pass out.

The day of the operation had finally came to ahead and everyone was firmly in position from were Thing had texted them to be on Wednesday command, seeing as she still refused to become a mindless, chronically online footstool of social media and the internet. Enid was riddled with nervousness and her mind was plagued with doubts. What if you didn’t like her? what if Charlie had manipulated you against her and your friends by spreading false rhetoric? You surely couldn’t believe them, could you? Xavier, who was stood nearby, saw her uncertainty and crossed over to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s all going to be okay Enid. This plan will work and you’ll have y/n by the end of the day.” Enid looked at Xavier, her fingers were pulling at the loose thread of her cotton candy coloured sweater out of habit. “How can you be so certain that this won’t blow up in our faces?” She said upsettingly, fearing the worst that was yet to come from all this should their plan prove fruitless. Xavier smiles sympathetically at the werewolf, “I just know that y/n ain’t the type to submit to the whims of a siren song without a fight. I believe that y/n knows us better then to believe someone else’s lies, they’re more then aware of how we are,” he grasped her shoulder in reassurance, “how you are and they wouldn’t want you any other way. As cliche as it maybe but you just gotta believe.”

Enid smiled mid-way through Xavier’s speech, remembering all the trouble you, herself and Wednesday always seem to get into on an daily basis. However you never seemed to waver under it all, rather yet you chose to stand strong alongside her to embrace it all. She remembered asking how you haven’t left them yet and you shot her a bright smile that could put the stars to shame that night. Enid remembered your response and clung to it tightly as her resolve. You were loyal, compassionate, strong and free spirited. She’d be damned that she let that go now after everything you’ve gone through together.

“You’re right,” Enid says, “I just gotta believe and see this through and emerge victorious.” Xavier beamed with pride but just before he could say anything, his eyes darted elsewhere and naturally, Enid followed his line of sight before they stopped short on you but no Charlie in sight. Xavier looked back at Enid to see that she was already looking at you with longing and decided that now was the time to act. So he gently shoved her into your arms, causing you both to fumble for stability before taking notice of how close you were to the one another. Enid was at a loss for words as she couldn’t help but take a really good look at you and your beauty, so much so that it left her breathless.

“Hi Enid, I’m sorry for not spending as much time with you anymore I-“ “I like you.” You both fell silent at the abrupt confession but due to how in line with Enid’s personality it was, you couldn’t help but laugh heartily, leaning against her shoulder for support. “I like you too Enid, every time I was with Charlie, you were always on my mind.” You said as you pulled away to cup her face in your hands as her hands immediately come up to rest on top of yours. She smiled brightly as her eyes shone like stars that you always found yourself getting lost within. “Really?” She asked, “you really think of me when your with…them?”

“Of course I do, you’re my best friend!” Xavier, Wednesday and Thing -if possible- facepalmed at your words, groaning in disbelief as Enid’s smile faded off of her lips, pulling away from you slightly. “No… I don’t think you understand that when I said I like you y/n, I meant it in a romantically.” You blinked once, twice, three times before leaning towards Enid to press a kiss to her cheek. “I totally knew that.” You chirped but Enid only laughed as she rested her head against your shoulder. “No you didn’t,” she chuckled. “You’re right I didn’t but I’m glad we cleared that up or this would’ve been very awkward.” You said, holding the girl tightly in your arm as hers came to your waist. “Yeah, mega awkward.”

#enid sinclair x reader #Enid sinclair imagines #enid sinclair imagine #enid sinclair x you #enid sinclair fanfic #enid sinclair fic

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eddies-ashtray · 1 year

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When The Rain Starts To Pour ⌂ Chapter 1: The One Where Eddie Hates Paul

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

Pairing: Eddie x Fem!Reader

Chapter Preview:

“You smoke?” You ask, pointing at the cigarette held delicately between his index and middle fingers. You’re feeling a little awkward for some reason. Maybe because you’re not used to Eddie being silent.

Eddie sniffs, says, “Yeah. Trying to quit.” Then snuffs out the half-smoked stick by crushing it against the concrete. He knows the habit might bother you. It bothers the others as well; Nancy has called it a ‘cancer stick’, Steve has often taken to flushing his cigs in protest, and Robin simply informs him that it stinks. He also knows that you have your date with Paul tonight, and as much as he dislikes the guy, he doesn’t want you smelling of smoke for your date.

“Hm,” You hum, coming up beside him and leaning over the wall, a blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You shiver and he has the urge to remove his leather jacket and wrap it around you.

There’s a lull then, in which Eddie wonders why you might have come out here. From the sounds of your prior conversation with Robin, you need to start getting ready for your date soon. Why come out here just to stand around with him in the cold?

CW: Brief discussion of financial struggles, vague talk of poor parental relationship (not necessarily abusive though), jealousy, loneliness, reader talks of being unhappy in her previous life circumstances, probably lots of bad jokes, poorly concealed Friends references, age gap (between reader and Paul), lots of tropes, non-canon compliant (duh—but also the upside-down does not exist), kinda pervy/douchey behaviour from Paul (nothing crazy though, just generally douchey).

WC: 17.4k

A/N: Ah! It’s finally here! I am so so so excited to share this first chapter with you after so long. I really hope it lives up to expectations. I just wanna note that while writing, I imagined the coffee shop and the apartments from Friends, so the decor and layout of each of those places are pretty much the exact same in my descriptions of them. Here’s a link to the apartments and coffee shop layouts if you’re interested. Also, I am going to do the best I can to make this era- and setting-appropriate, but keep in mind that I was not born in the 90s, nor am I from New York City (or the US in general), so there may be some inaccuracies. Anyway, enough of my rambling, happy reading!!

Series Masterlist

Read it on ao3

Next Chapter [coming soon]

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

“I’m so broke it’s not even funny! Like, seriously, look,” Robin exclaims before placing her mug of tea on the coffee table and proceeding to lean back awkwardly on the couch so she can turn her pockets out. They are indeed empty–a metaphorical sign of her poverty.

Nancy clicks her tongue from her spot on a sage green chair next to the couch, reaching over to place a coaster under Robin’s steaming mug.

It’s a relatively quiet Saturday afternoon at The Ugly Mug, only a couple other patrons milling about and occupying the various other seats around the small establishment. There’s a short woman with long, thin braids seated by the large front window and a stout man in a purple beanie sitting on one of the stools near the coffee bar. There’s also been the occasional patron coming in to pick up a to-go order–bringing in with them a rush of chilly November air–before rushing back out the dark wooden doors.

“I’m fucking screwed. I can’t afford that big, stupid place alone,” Robin complains, retrieving her tea from the table after she’s tucked her pockets back into her jeans.

“You could always get a second job,” Eddie offers from the opposite end of the couch, an oversized red mug half-full of very sugary coffee in hand. “Ya know, moonlight as a rockstar like some of the rest of us?”

Robin rolls her eyes at his over-exaggeration and looks over at him as she replies, “Don’t you guys get, like, one gig per month?”

“No…We get two gigs per month,” Eddie corrects like the disparity between her answer and his had been larger than it was.

When he realizes that his correction wasn’t much of a correction, he adds, slightly more helpful this time, “But it’s better than just working in the restaurant. At least I get a little extra every month.”

Robin sighs. “I guess…But it’d suck to double my exhaustion just to take another job I hate. At least your second job is something you love...I wish I could get, like, a raise or something,” She complains, head falling back against the couch in frustration.

From beside her, Steve’s hand lands on her shoulder, placing his own mug of coffee on the table before doing so. “Why don’t you-”

“No,” She replies before he can finish.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” Steve defends and Robin lolls her head to the side to shoot him a deadpan stare.

“I am not putting an ad in the newspaper,” She states plainly.

“It’s a strategy! How else would you find a roommate?”

“I agree with Robin,” Nancy pipes up from Robin’s other side. “It’s not safe, Steve. There’s so many freaks out there; you don’t know who you’re inviting into your home.”

“I live with a freak and I’m fine,” Steve jokes.

“Hey!” Eddie exclaims, mildly offended, and slaps Steve on the arm halfheartedly. “It’s been six years, Harrington, when are you gonna stop calling me that?”

“How about never!” Steve bites back childishly. All too quickly their civilized conversation about Robin’s living situation devolves into an immature argument between two grown men. It’s almost surprising how they manage to live together and not tear each other’s heads off. Despite their silly arguments though, they surprisingly get along quite well–most of the time.

“Hey! Can we get back on topic, please?” Nancy interrupts, mildly anxious about the eyes of the other patrons on them. Normally, she wouldn’t let others’ judgment get to her; she’s aware that she hangs around a pretty rowdy group of adults, but it’s so quiet in here today and she’d like to keep it that way.

“Actually, I’m perfectly content right in the middle of this. I could use a distraction,” Robin says, settling into the couch beside the two bickering men.

Sighing contentedly, Robin gets comfortable and shuts her eyes, the soft light of the café causing the back of her eyelids to glow a soft orange. The boys’ bickering continues to her right as Nancy reaches over from her left to squeeze her hand in reassurance. Robin opens her eyes again to turn to her and gives her a tight-lipped smile.

“I need a roommate,” she concludes, tone solemn. Nancy’s lips part, about to impart some advice when-

The small golden bell above the door tinkles its charming chime as it opens, and in rushes the late November bite, and a frazzled-looking young woman. As she enters the space, she makes such a commotion that Robin startles and turns to take a look at who’s causing the ruckus. The others turn to the door as well (including Steve and Eddie whose bickering has now ceased altogether due to the interruption).

In her tow is one large suitcase, in her hand is a large black trash bag (the plastic material stretching into a grey colour in some areas), and on her back is a large backpack (stuffed so full that the biggest pocket isn’t even zipped all the way).

It must have begun to rain at some point during their hours’ long stay at the coffee shop because the woman appears to be quite damp without an umbrella or hood on her jacket.

Finally, Robin's eyes land on the woman’s face. In a shock, she realizes that she recognizes her. However, seeing as none of her friends are acquainted with the woman, they’re rather occupied by the seemingly magical appearance of this person who looks to be in need of a place to stay at the exact moment that Robin expressed her need for a roommate. The four of them gawk at the woman with the luggage for a moment until someone can’t help himself and must break the silence to acknowledge the absurdity of the situation.

“And I want to be rich and famous!” Eddie exclaims, gesturing widely to the door. Unfortunately, his wish does not manifest as Robin’s had.

Robin passes her tea to Steve, who takes it without question as she stands from her spot on the couch, passing Nancy as she rounds it. The woman is at the counter now, though as Robin nears her, the woman is not ordering a coffee or any other warm beverage.

“Excuse me? Do you know-” You begin, but before you can finish asking the café employee about your friend's whereabouts, you feel a soft tap on your shoulder.

“Y/N?”

Immediately, you recognize her voice and turn around. Many summers and phone calls throughout your childhood and teen years had familiarized you with it.

Once you’re face-to-face, relief releases the tension you’d been holding in your shoulders. After over 12 hours of driving across the country (maybe more, you stopped keeping track at some point), countless times getting lost (your sense of direction completely failing you, even with the aid of a map and any living soul you came across), many pit stops at dank, shady rest stops, and a lot of fast food later, you’re just happy to see a familiar face.

“Robin! Thank God! I went to your apartment-” you begin, eager to recount the story of your travels.

“My apartment?” Robin asks, confused that you’d known her address.

“-but you weren’t there! And I almost left to look for you myself, but then your neighbour saw me knocking and told me I could probably find you here-”

“My neighbour?”

“-and I thought, ‘It’s worth a shot,’, so I dragged all my shit back down the stairs and through the stupid rain and you’re here! But, come to think of it, I don’t even know why I brought all this stuff up with me instead of just leaving it in the car. Like, that was sort of presumptuous of me to show up at your door with a bunch of luggage, but I guess it probably wouldn’t have been a great idea to leave it in that parking garage anyway,” You finish your rambling, out of breath now and slightly lightheaded.

That was likely an inappropriate way to greet her after all this time, but you find that you’re exhausted from your travels and electrified with adrenaline from your impulsive decision to come to New York.

At first, it was nice to get out and stretch your legs after spending half a day in your car, and walk around this new city in search of Robin’s apartment, but now you could just collapse right here on this scuffed hardwood floor.

Robin’s brows furrow as she tries to process your word vomit, but still cannot find an answer for her biggest question. Though she’s concerned that one of her neighbour’s so easily gave away her location to a stranger who was banging on her door and curious to know how you’d found her apartment, she’s more interested in your story for now. In learning what got you here after all this time.

“Why are you here? I mean-it-it’s great to see you, but, um-why don’t you sit down and tell me what happened?” Robin suggests, leading you gently towards the couch.

“Okay. Yeah, that sounds great,” You agree, navigating carefully around velvet-upholstered stools with your bags in hand.

A man with long hair and tattoos stands from the couch to take a seat on a chair to his right in order to accommodate you as Robin helps you place your bags on the floor next to the woman with the curly hair and high cheekbones.

Finally, you sit down on the plush orange couch next to a happy looking guy with gorgeous, voluminous hair. He smiles at you kindly once you’re settled in and you breathe out, willing yourself to relax so you can attempt to coherently explain your situation to your friend and, apparently, these strangers.

Their eyes on you make you nervous, but once Robin takes her seat next to you, you feel more at ease.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Robin reassures as she tucks her legs underneath herself on the couch. You nod, taking one more deep breath and collecting your thoughts before beginning.

“So-I know this is, like, totally crazy that I just kinda showed up here out of the blue after, what? 5, 6 years?” You begin nervously, looking to Robin for confirmation on how long it’s been since you last saw each other. She nods after turning her body to face you.

“But I just–I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like this but–I felt like I was on autopilot or something, just kind of drifting through my days: going to work at a boring job with boring people, coming home to my shitty apartment, going to sleep, and doing it all over again and again and again.”

In your periphery, you notice a few of them nodding in agreement and feel relieved at their earnest validation. It gives you the strength to continue your story.

“And one day I guess I woke up? I realized that I hated where I was, who I was with, what I was doing, what I wasn’t doing. I just sort of…panicked. I knew I couldn’t stay there–in that life and that apartment cause it was, like, a total shithole-”

“Why was it a shithole?” A voice interrupts from your right; The One With The Tattoos. You’d been so into your story for those 30-some-odd seconds that you nearly forgot that it was more than just Robin you were venting to. He seems genuinely curious and well-meaning, so you’re not perturbed by his interruption, only surprised, which is what causes you to pause before answering his question.

In the moment you take before you respond, you clock the bat tattoo on his forearm (though you’d recognized his inked skin earlier, you hadn’t examined the art close enough to discern what the tattoos were of), among a smattering of many other patchwork tattoos, and hope you remember to ask him about it later (if there is a later with these people–there’s all the chance that Robin could send you packing).

Finally, you shake off your surprise and respond, “Well, aside from the fact that my apartment was definitely mold-infested and my building had a serious rat problem, my landlord was a total creep.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” He agrees, brows furrowing.

“Yeah. So, I just couldn’t live there anymore, or go back to work, and I definitely was not about to go back home to live with my mother–phone calls once a week are already more than I can handle, I don’t think I could take her constant scrutiny for more than 30 minute increments,” You explain, scoffing lightly. “But, um-” You stutter, looking down at your lap and pulling at the skin of your hand absentmindedly.

“Anyway…I panicked and I decided that I needed to get out of there as soon as possible, so two weeks ago, I put in my two weeks at work and pretty much packed up my whole life into my car and started driving without a destination…And then I remembered hearing that you’d moved to New York a few years back,” You recall, gesturing to Robin, who smiles warmly back at you.

“So I looked you up in the phone book and when I found your name I just felt like it was the right thing? Which I know sounds kinda kooky, but it was the first good feeling I’d had about something in a long time, so I just decided that I needed to trust it,” You conclude, squeezing your hands in your lap. “And I know it’s a lot to ask of you, especially since it’s been so long, but…is there any chance at all that you might need a roommate?”

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

When you step inside the apartment, you immediately love the place. For one, it’s bigger than your old apartment and even has a pretty sizable balcony (that can only be accessed through a window). To your left is the kitchen with exposed brick, a simple small table with four mismatched chairs surrounding it in the middle.

Just past the modest kitchen is the living area, which is just as eclectically decorated as the kitchen with a sofa, a fluffy looking armchair and an armless chair adjacent to each other, a coffee table, and a television set sitting atop a sideboard. Two doors are on either side of the living room. To the left of the living room is a large window (complete with a cozy looking window seat) which looks out onto the balcony.

You marvel at the place as Robin leads through the apartment, the rest of the crew following in behind you two before the door slams shut and you enter what appears to be a bedroom slash storage space. Despite the bed in the middle, there are things strewn about on the floor, seemingly haphazardly tossed in here and forgotten about.

After introductions to the group (you now know their names and the fact that Eddie and Steve live across the hall, while Nancy lives a few blocks away), Robin had informed you the available room at her place might be a bit of a mess since she’s been using it as storage space for a while. The only guests she has live close by enough that sleepovers were a rarity.

“So, this’ll be your room,” Robin explains, rolling your bursting suitcase inside it. Steve enters last, dropping your trash bag full of clothes to the yellow-ish hardwood floor and you do the same with your backpack.

It’s a fairly nice room; a simple square spacious enough to fit the queen size bed and a side table, while also allowing extra room still for a chest of drawers and vanity (which you will eventually add to the room).

Though anything without rats, mold, and a creepy landlord would be an improvement, this place is a definite upgrade from your last and you find yourself containing a joyous squeal as you take it all in. You’ve never been a fan of change–enjoying the comfort of familiarity instead–and have always agonized over every decision you’ve made, but for once, you have no doubts about your decision to come here. This actually feels like the first real decision you have ever made.

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

When Steve opens the building's front door, the smell of fresh rain and pavement hangs in the air, an oddly nostalgic scent. It reminds you of childhood, of early mornings at summer camp with Robin.

The sun hangs low and bright orange in the sky–it’s getting late so you’ll probably only be able to make one trip to your car and back before the sun goes down, and then have to collect the rest of your things tomorrow.

Though you grabbed as much as you could carry from your car (which remains parked in a garage about three blocks away) before going in search of Robin’s apartment, you obviously couldn’t take everything with you, so the bags you just dropped off at your new place were only a fraction of the things packed away in your vehicle.

Robin’s friends kindly offered to help you drag the rest of your belongings back to her apartment. Since none of them have a car, and it is apparently nearly impossible to find parking in this city, you have no choice but to carry everything back by hand.

You lead the way to the parking garage, Robin at your side and the rest of the gang following behind you.

As you walk through the city, past storefronts, HELP WANTED signs in windows, and people with briefcases in long coats and giant scarves walking briskly like they have someplace important to be, you’re reminded of an imperative piece of information.

“Robin?” You say as you cross the street.

“Hm?”

“I don’t have a job here.”

The whole reason Robin was looking for a new roommate in the first place was because she can no longer afford her place on her own. And you, as her new roommate, have been recruited to help solve that problem for her. But without a job, and a bank account that is less than impressive, you’re on the clock to find a new job–and fast.

“You can work at Hannigan’s with Eddie and I!” She offers excitedly, her hand smacking your arm in her enthusiasm. Sorry! She apologizes quickly before continuing: “We’ve been working there forever, I can put in a good word for you with the owner.”

“That sounds great…But what’s ‘Hannigan’s’?” You ask, because in her haste to offer a solution to your little problem, she had left out vital information. Eddie pipes up from the rear and steps forward so he can walk in step with you and Robin as he answers your question.

The way the sun hits him from behind outlines his body in a soft orange halo, causing his long hair to shine in the early evening light. This lighting softens his features, making him look angelic and pretty as his pale skin glows. You find yourself content watching him as he speaks.

“It’s one of those fancy upscale restaurants. The tips are usually pretty good, but sometimes you gotta endure some light harassment to get them,” Eddie explains, and when he sees the apprehensive look on your face, he jumps to reassure you: “Sometimes we get to take home leftovers though.”

“By ‘get to take’, he means steal,” Steve corrects and you look to Robin for confirmation.

She just shrugs. “They’d go to waste anyway.”

“I guess I’ll just have to invest in some armour, then,” You say, implying that physical armour could somehow protect you from rude customers. Eddie smiles at that, a dimple carving into his cheek. Briefly, you note how charming his smile is, but before you can stare too long, Robin grabs your attention by lightly elbowing you.

“Don’t worry, snooty rich people can’t be as bad as Harrington's snotty children,” She says.

“Oh! You have kids?” You wonder, turning to Steve as he strides along casually a few steps behind you, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets.

“No, not yet. I work at one of the preschools in the area,” Steve supplies.

“Oh, nice. You like working with kids?” You wonder.

His answer is apparent on his face which lights up instantly at the question. “Love it. The kids are really great, and so much more capable than people give them credit for! People are quick to dismiss kids, especially four and five year olds, but they understand more than you think.” Steve rambles, his passion clear.

“Hey, is this the garage?” Robin asks, bringing your attention back to the task at hand.

It is. The place you left your car a mere two hours ago, nervous and unsure of what came next. But now you have a new place, something akin to a job offer, and three kind strangers and one old friend by your side.

Once you reach your car–which is parked all the way on the top floor–you unlock the back seat doors.

“Okay, so, let’s try to grab all the stuff from the front and maybe a few things from the back?” You suggest, then move to unlock the trunk of your car where the boys stand.

“Jesus. How did you pack all this shit in here?” Eddie asks, marvelling at the trunk of your car which is stuffed full of most of your belongings.

“Are we about to find your kitchen sink packed away in here, or what?” Steve adds.

“Uh, I don’t know, really,” You say, answering Eddie’s question. “I packed it all up so quickly I didn’t really notice how much stuff it actually was, but it’s like my entire apartment is stuffed into this trunk.” You say, and it kind of is. You’re surprised your trunk could even shut with how crowded it is.

Robin and Nancy grab the remaining bags from the back seat, while you and the guys grab a couple boxes from the trunk. Then you lock up and start back to your new apartment.

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

Your first thought when you gain consciousness in your bed is a thought that no one would ever want to have—especially not before eight in the morning. Someone has broken into my apartment.

Your eyes shoot open, staring up at the ceiling–your new ceiling! In your new apartment! That you’ve lived in now for a solid 48 hours. But your time here may be cut short if the intruder has plans that involve you and a knife.

You know for a fact that it is not Robin because you share a wall with her and can hear her shuffling around her room getting ready for the day, and the person out in your living room right now definitely opened your front door and is now shuffling around out there.

Thud.

What the fuck was that?

Most people in your situation might freeze in fear and simply lie in wait for the intruder to come to them, accepting their fate. Others might run and hide. But you, on this random Tuesday in November at 7:43AM were apparently a force to be reckoned with. The Old You might have chosen one of the two above options, but New York You–the new, and hopefully improved, you–has a job interview today and are not going to let some intruder stop you from making it.

You are not about to have your fresh start end so soon. So, you carefully pull the covers off of your body and as quietly as possible get out of bed.

Inching slowly towards the door, you decide you first need a weapon to defend yourself. There’s no use going out there and meeting the intruder if you can’t protect yourself against them. However, since you’re not in the kitchen, you don’t have access to a knife or any other kitchen utensil that could be wielded as a weapon. And since many of your belongings are still packed away in bags and boxes scattered around the room, you don’t exactly have many options.

Quickly, you grab the first object you see that could potentially be used to incapacitate the intruder. Then, you very slowly reach for the handle of your door.

Twisting the handle as gently as you can manage so as not to draw attention to yourself, you begin to open the door, revealing an inch of the kitchen, then another couple inches which reveals a sliver of the living room. Heart racing wildly in your chest, you decide it’s now or never.

Bursting from your room while brandishing your weapon of choice, you let out what some may describe as a battle cry, startling the intruder in the living room. Startling them so much that they bang their head on the coffee table when they try to get up from where they’re laying on their stomach on the floor between the couch and table.

You don’t have a great view of the intruder from where you stand right outside your door, so you slowly step toward them where they lie.

The intruder groans in pain, forehead falling to rest on the rug below them as they bring a hand to the back of their head. A head with long, messy curls that you vaguely recognize.

Oh. Oh, God.

“Eddie?” You question meekly, lowering your weapon as waves of guilt crash over you.

“Uh-huh,” He replies weakly, voice muffled by the rug he’s practically eating.

“Oh, God,” You moan before placing your weapon on the table and rushing to his side. He lifts his head then, and you help him up onto the couch. He groans again as he sits back into the plush cushions and all you can do is apologize.

Taking a seat on the coffee table, you grimace at his grimace. “I am so sorry, I thought you were an intruder,” You explain, squeezing your fingers in your hand. Your heart still races in your chest.

“It’s-It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Kinda did it to myself,” Eddie jokes, still rubbing the back of his head. You nod once, biting your lip, still feeling guilty because, yeah, he technically did do it himself, but he wouldn’t have if you hadn’t stormed out of your room like a crazy person and screamed bloody murder.

As your heart slows to its normal pace, you begin to wonder what he was doing here in the first place—laying on the living room rug for that matter.

“Um, I don’t mean to be rude, but what exactly were you doing on the floor?” You ask, finally taking in his dress now that the situation has deescalated some. He wears red and black plaid pyjama bottoms and a white tank top so see-through that you catch a glimpse of dark ink beneath the material. The sight steals your breath for a moment.

“I was, uh, looking for my rings. Thought they might have fallen under the table,” Eddie supplies, drawing your eyes back up to his face. His eyes are warm and soft. God, you don’t think you’ve ever seen eyes so large and round. He looks like a baby deer or something. A cute, injured baby deer.

“Oh. Did Robin let you in?” You ask, because it doesn’t matter that he looks like a baby deer, what matters is that it is very possible that he simply let himself into your apartment and you’re not sure you’re comfortable with that just yet. I mean, you’ve only just met him and the others two days ago, and have only seen them one other time since then when they had come by to help clear out your new room.

Eddie looks like the guilty one now as he replies, “Uh, no…?”

“Sorry,” He apologizes quickly. “Let me just…try this again.”

You’re not sure exactly what he means until he stands and begins walking backwards in the direction of the front door, all the while making strange noises with his mouth that somewhat resemble the sound of rewinding a tape. He’s literally starting over, resetting, going back in time to try this again because he saw you weren’t comfortable with his uninvited presence in your apartment.

All you can do is sit and simply stare at the strange, yet comical display as Eddie awkwardly reaches behind him, opens the door, reverses out into the hallway, and shuts the door with a slam.

Too stunned to laugh for a moment, you sit in silence for approximately five seconds, thinking that might be the end of it, before a knock sounds at the front door.

You hesitate, staring at the door strangely. But you’re intrigued now by his strange display, wanting to know how it ends. So you stand and stroll over to the door, opening it to, of course, reveal Eddie, who smiles brightly at you.

“Good morning,” He greets politely. “You mind if I come in?”

Stifling a giggle, you nod. “Of course.” And open the door wider, stepping to the side to allow him space to enter. He enters swiftly and you shut the door.

Eddie saunters over to the living room once again, about to resume the search for his rings when he spots your weapon of choice sitting innocently on the coffee table where you left it. He pauses and stares at it for a moment, tilting his head, and you stare at his back as you remain in the kitchen, watching as his dark curls shift and fall to one side, cascading over his shoulders.

The presence of the weapon is new to him since it obviously was not there when he entered the apartment the first time. He also hadn’t seen it even when he’d gotten up from the floor because you’d sat on the coffee table, and therefore blocked his view of the object.

Now, Eddie wanders over to the coffee table, gingerly picking the weapon up like it’s some sort of precious antique, then spins around smoothly to face you. Holding it loosely at one end, he lets it dangle just above the hardwood floor.

Eddie raises his eyebrows at you. You stare back at him, unsure of what’s happening.

“What?” You wonder.

“What were you gonna use this for?” Eddie asks, tone humorous, and dark eyes sparkling with mirth.

“To-to defend myself against the intruder,” You answer, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious about your choice of weapon.

“With a bathrobe tie?” Eddie exclaims, shaking the flimsy terry cloth material around so the long fabric wiggles in the air.

“Y-yes!” You defend weakly.

“What were you gonna do? Spa-day me to death?”

“No! I-I thought it could be used to, like—choke someone?” You say, cringing as the words come out of your mouth.

Eddie barks a laugh. But you can tell he's not laughing at you. He simply finds the situation and your choice amusing. In the little time you’ve spent around Eddie, you don’t get the impression that he’s mean-spirited or judgmental. The exact opposite actually–to you, he’s only been accepting and kind.

“It’s creative, I’ll give you that. But not very practical,” Eddie critiques.

“My robe was hanging on my door, okay? It’s not like I had a knife in there or something,” You attempt to defend, playing along.

“Still!” He laughs incredulously.

“Let me get this straight: first, you break into my apartment, and then I very kindly invite you back in, and you insult my choice of weapon?”

Eddie seems to mull this over, recalling the events in his mind to confirm that, yes, that is indeed what has happened.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so…Ya know, you should really talk to Harrington. He’s the king of wielding random objects as weapons. When we first moved here, he thought we were getting broken into all the time, and this one time he grabbed our floor lamp and-”

Before he can finish his story though, Robin comes out from her bedroom, dressed in some jeans and a striped long-sleeve. She makes it a few steps before she notices Eddie and you standing almost ten feet apart in the living room together, both of you still dressed in your pyjamas, and one of you grasping a purple bathrobe tie. Robin stares for a moment like she’s suspicious of something, shifting her eyes from you to Eddie and back again. They land on Eddie when she slowly asks, “What’s going on?”

“I was looking for my rings. You seen ‘em?” He explains, effectively diverting her attention from the strangeness of the situation.

“Yeah,” She nods, walking towards the kitchen again. “In the dish by the door.”

“Cool. Thanks,” Eddie says, walking towards you now. Before he walks past you to retrieve his rings though, he takes hold of the other end of the bathrobe tie, pulling it taught, and presenting it to you with a slight bow. “Your sword, m’lady.”

Grabbing the tie from him, you thank him, and he continues toward the dish by the door. Eddie’s theatrical and kind of strange, but instead of weirding you out, you find that those traits endear you to him. You’re sick of boring people and to finally be around someone who is so unapologetically themselves is refreshing. Especially someone as interesting as Eddie.

Turning around to the kitchen where Eddie is carefully rooting through the dish for his rings and Robin is grabbing a juice from the fridge, you realize something strange about what just happened. Though surprisingly, none of it has to do with Eddie.

“Um-if you were in your room getting ready, how did you not hear my scream?” You ask, because you doubt that she just didn’t hear it. You were pretty loud.

After taking a sip from the small plastic bottle, Robin explains, “Huh. I guess I’ve learned to sort of tune out the noise. Living across the hall from two idiots who barge into my apartment without warning has kind of become my new normal. Loud, sudden noises aren’t really surprising anymore.”

“It’s worrying how desensitized you are,” You reply, mostly joking.

Robin takes another sip of her juice and shrugs. “Don’t worry, you’ll get there someday.”

“Ya know, I really hope I don’t.”

Robins snorts, approaching the counter where Eddie is still picking his rings from the mess of keys and other small trinkets in the dish, and crouches down to retrieve her tote bag from the shelf below the counter. You ball up and toss your robe tie in the general direction of your room before Robin pops back up and turns to grab her juice from the table behind her.

“Okay, so I gotta go run some errands, but I should be back just after your interview,” She informs and you nod. Eddie goes to leave as well, opening the front door as Robin tells you, “Good luck, you’ll be great!” Then heads for the door as well.

Gratitude swells in your chest. Robin has been more than kind to you these past two days. Before Saturday, it had been years since you last spoke.

You and Robin were best friends at the summer camp you attended as children and remained close as you entered your teen years and later became camp counsellors at the same camp. You were the first person she ever came out to and it often felt like you shared a brain; for many years she was your sister.

Despite your living hours and hours away, you and Robin maintained your friendship during the non-summer months; talking on the phone often and mailing letters back and forth.

Eventually, though, your individual lives got busy and neither of you had the time to maintain the long-distance friendship or attend summer camp as counsellors anymore. Phone calls decreased and letters stopped being written and mailed, until eventually, your friendship fizzled out. There was no major falling out of any sort; the end of your friendship was simply the result of poor management on both ends.

You often thought about calling her up to see how she was, but it wasn’t until last week that you made the impulsive decision to contact her again. And you’re glad you did. She’s given you a new home and she even helped you set up your job interview at Hannigan’s. You’re grateful that she’s given you the opportunity to start fresh in this new city with new, interesting people, but much of your gratitude comes from the chance you now both have to breathe life back into your cherished friendship.

“Hey,” You call, causing Robin to pause and turn to you before she exits the apartment, brows expectantly raised. “I know I’ve already said it so many times, but I just want to say thank you one more time for everything you’ve done for me these past two days. And I know it’s been a long time since we’ve been friends…but you’re a really good friend.”

Robin smiles softly at you. “You’re a really good friend too. You always have been.”

It’s then you rush to her at the door where you embrace her in the biggest hug and hope the action translates the magnitude of your thankfulness and love for her.

“I’ll see you later,” She says after you part, walking out into the hallway.

You sigh.

It has been one hectic morning, and your interview starts at 10:30, so you should probably start getting ready now. But Eddie lingers in the hallway, just outside his front door.

Before you can even say anything, he preemptively apologizes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, eavesdrop, but you have your interview at Hannigan’s today?”

You’re not mad though. Nothing you said was a secret. And so far, you trust Eddie. He cares about the way people around him are feeling and takes action to remedy situations where people aren’t happy or comfortable. That much is clear from this morning. It’s why you don’t dismiss him and leave to get ready. He’s a good person.

“Yeah, I do. Why?”

Eddie takes a couple steps forward so he’s standing just inside your apartment once again.

“Would it help if I gave you some tips? I’ve been working there for a while and I kinda know what they’re looking for, so-”

“That would be great!” You exclaim, because you really need this job if you want to continue living here.

Eddie just smiles brightly at your reaction as you say, “Just let me get dressed and then I’ll knock on your door when I’m ready?”

“Sure,” Eddie nods, grabbing the edge of the door on his way out to close it.

“Oh! And Eddie?” You call out just before the door shuts.

“Yeah?” He responds, popping his head back in the apartment.

“I really am so sorry about this morning.”

“It’s alright. I’m sorry for breaking in…Although you seemed pretty unprepared, so, yaknow, this was probably a good learning experience for you,” He teases, that same sparkle in his eyes that had appeared when he was questioning your weapon returning.

You bite your lip over a smile as Eddie winks at you and disappears behind the door, the heavy wood slamming softly shut.

Getting ready in record time, you end up knocking on Eddie’s door across the hall approximately one hour later, leaving more than enough time for Eddie to give you interview tips and for you to walk over to Hannigan’s to arrive early.

As you stand in the hall awaiting his answer, you feel oddly giddy, a swarm of nervous butterflies fluttering rapidly in your belly. Briefly, you think your butterflies can be explained on account of Eddie making you nervous. But you bat that thought away as you hear footsteps approaching and remind yourself that it’s more likely that your upcoming job interview has caused the butterflies.

When Eddie answers his door, you find he’s also gotten dressed in the hour since you’ve seen each other. He wears a simple black t-shirt with a band name and logo you don’t recognize on the front with a long-sleeve underneath, and some light-wash jeans. His hair is noticeably more tame, his curls flowing neatly over his shoulders. Eddie also wears the silver rings he was searching for this morning; three on one hand, and one on the other. The fluttering in your belly intensifies for a moment, but again, you bat them away.

“You wanna come in or are we gonna do this out in the hall?” Eddie jokes when you make no move to enter his apartment, unaware of this strange battle you’re having within yourself at his doorstep.

Shaking yourself free of your thoughts, you mutter a quick apology and take his joke as an invitation to enter. As you do, you realize this is the first time you’ve been inside his apartment. Which isn’t a surprising fact. You’ve only been here for two full days, and haven’t really left your apartment much since then.

His apartment is smaller and you might describe it as drab, but their decor choices are vibrant in their own way.

The kitchen is immediately to your right as you enter, a table to your left, and as you wander further into the room, a counter separates the entrance slash kitchen area from the living room. In the living room sits two black recliners and a large wood entertainment centre with a television set. On either side of this are two closed doors.

The far right side of the apartment has two windows and a red sofa sitting beneath it. Beside that is another door, this one open (revealing tiled floor and a closed shower curtain).

There isn’t much in the way of wall decoration (aside from a lone dart board hanging on the wall and a few posters), but on some of the shelves of the entertainment centre are framed photographs. Some of the photos feature what appears to be two younger versions of Steve and Eddie, presumably taken in high school. In one photo, Eddie has his arm around Steve’s shoulder and they both hold beer cans in their hands. Eddie smiles cheekily for the camera, while Steve puts on a faux grimace at his friends close proximity.

Other photos feature boys who appear to be much younger than Steve and Eddie (possibly siblings?) and there are also photos that include Robin and Nancy, some recent and others clearly taken years ago. Another includes Steve and Eddie carrying a boy with curly hair–who wears a graduation cap and gown–on their shoulders, all of them smiling widely. You can tell it's candid as they all appear to be laughing and unaware of the camera photographing them.

“Who’s this?” You ask curiously, pointing at the photo as you turn around, finding that Eddie hasn’t moved from his spot at the door and has likely been watching you inspect his living area this whole time. Suddenly you feel like you’re intruding. “Sorry, I-”

“No worries. You can look. That’s what they’re there for,” He shrugs, finally joining you in the living room.

At your side now, Eddie inspects the photo you pointed to and a fond smile crosses his face. His side profile is soft, and you spy just a hint of shaven stubble on his cheeks. It distracts you for a moment.

“Dustin,” Eddie says after a beat.

“What?” You ask dumbly, now preoccupied with the freckles you’ve spotted that dot his pale skin lightly.

You’ve never been this close to him before. All you’d have to do to get right into his personal space is take one short step forward. But of course you won’t do that. Why would you?

Eddie looks from the photograph to you. “In the picture,” He explains, nodding to the framed image. “That’s Dustin. It was taken at his high school graduation, like, two years ago? He’s a good kid…Well, he’s not really a kid anymore, but I guess it still feels like that sometimes.”

“How do you know him?” You hear yourself say. The kid looks like he’s about five years younger than Eddie and Steve, so naturally you’re curious about how they know him.

You’re supposed to be here getting pointers for your job interview, but instead, you find that you’re more interested in the details of Eddie’s life.

“Uh, we were in high school together and I had this club that he was a part of,” Eddie explains, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“What kind of club?” You wonder, electing to ignore the fact that he somehow attended high school with this kid.

He seems reluctant to provide you with an answer to your question. Up until now, he’s been a pretty open book; someone who doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him. But now all of the sudden, he’s guarded?

“I won’t judge, yaknow,” You reassure, because you won’t, but also because his reluctance to reveal what sort of club he ran makes you all the more curious to find out.

Eddie side eyes you, squinting. He must determine that your remark is genuine because he straightens up from where he’d bent slightly to view the photo and provides you with an answer.

“Ever heard of DnD? Dungeons and Dragons?”

You furrow your brows for a moment, vaguely recognizing the name, but not remembering why.

“Oh!” You exclaim after a beat. “Yes! Was that the one that people were freaking out about years ago cause they thought it caused Satanism?”

Eddie snaps his fingers as he responds, “That’s the one.”

Then, he glances back at the photograph, and you think you can almost make out memories behind his eyes. Fond ones. You lean forward slightly, trying to catch his eyes again.

“You still play?”

Your question shakes him out of his momentary reverie, and he looks to you once again. “Not as much as I used to…But Dustin and the other guys and I try to organize a couple meetings throughout the year. It’s hard though because everyone’s kinda spread out now. And busy.”

His tone is wistful as he continues to glance around at the photos sitting on the shelf. Had you just upset him? First, you assist him in banging his head against your coffee table and now you’re potentially causing him some emotional pain too! Good going.

You’re about to apologize or change the subject, but Eddie speaks before you can. “Anyway! We should probably talk about your interview now. How long do we have?”

Looking around the room to find a clock, you spot one by the door. The little hand points toward the nine and the large hand points toward the six.

“About a half hour before I should get going,” You respond, turning back to Eddie as he takes a seat on one of the recliners behind you. You sit down as well.

“Great. So…do you have any questions first?” Eddie asks, unsure where to start.

“Uh,” You say, trying to remember any questions you had, but you can’t seem to recall any as you roll up the sleeves of your thick sweater, the ink on your wrist and forearms revealed as the fabric is pulled back.

Immediately, Eddie’s eyes shoot down to the action and for the first time, he catches sight of the ink.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” He remarks, like it’s something he should have known. As if it’s been more than 48 hours since you met and it’s ridiculous that he didn’t know.

“Oh. Yeah,” You say absentmindedly, glancing down at your arms.

“Tip number one: your tattoos are sick, but at Hannigan’s, they aren’t exactly appreciated, so you should make sure you cover them up.”

“Gotcha,” You say, rolling your sleeves back down the length of your arms.

Suddenly you’re reminded of your first day when you spotted his inked arms. The seven bats decorating his forearm. “Um…Yours are really cool by the way,” You compliment.

Then, “When did you get your first one?” You ask, veering further off topic. You can’t seem to stop yourself and you don’t know why.

“Uh…heh,” Eddie huffs a short laugh, almost as if he’d forgotten until this very second when you’d asked him. “I think I was, like, 16, 17? I did a really shitty stick-and-poke on my leg–the initials of my band name: Corroded Coffin.”

Every new thing you learn about Eddie intrigues you. Of course this long-haired, tattoo-having, ring-wearing, Dungeons and Dragons-playing 20-something would also have been in a band. Your surprise is likely evident on your face.

“You’ll have to come to one of our gigs sometime,” Eddie invites casually, as if it’s not the most cool thing to say in the world. Eddie didn’t used to be in a band, Eddie is in a band!

“You’re still in the band?”

“Yeah, the other guys live out here too, and we do regular gigs a few times a week…but, um, what about you? When did you get your first tattoo?”

Still gaping at him, you must pick your jaw up off the ground before you can respond. Cool and humble. How is he real?

“Oh, um, I was 18…I actually got it cause I knew my mom would hate it and it would probably piss her off,” You say, a little embarrassed by that fact. You don’t know why you reveal the information to him in the first place. Maybe because for some odd reason you know he won’t tell anyone. Even still—his story was way cooler. Especially since it preceded the reveal that he’s in a band. But maybe that’s also part of the reason you share it. You want him to think you’re just as interesting as he is—though you’re not sure who would be impressed by the information you just shared.

“Did it work?” Eddie asks. To your surprise, he seems invested in your answer, leaning over the edge of the recliner's armrest. As if what you’ve said was equally as interesting as his response.

“Did what work?”

“Was she pissed?”

“Oh!” You say, like a total ditz. “Um, yeah. Big time. She hates tattoos.”

“Is that why you have all of them?”

“No, I only got the first one to make her mad. And then when I realized I really loved it, I just kept getting them,” You respond, pushing your sleeve back slightly to brush the one on your wrist with your thumb.

When you look back up at him he’s smiling softly at you, but he quickly averts his gaze and his eyes find the clock on the wall. “Shit,” He says, a little panicked. “We only have 20 minutes.”

Whipping your head around to glance at the clock, the hands confirm that it’s 20 to 10 and you’ve barely discussed what you came here to discuss.

“I guess we’ll just have to lightning round this shit,” Eddie says, determination set in his tone.

And you do lightning round this shit. In just over 20 minutes, Eddie tells you as much as he can about the owner of the restaurant—Cordelia—who is going to be interviewing you. He tells you how to sit, what to say, how to say it, anything and everything he can think of to help you secure a job at this place.

As you two stand and Eddie walks you to the door, he shoots you a few final pointers.

“Obviously it helps that you have experience working at an upscale restaurant, so, um, she’ll probably ask you about that too,” Eddie says, and you nod.

When you reach the door, you turn to him.

“Thank you so much for your help,” You say sincerely. “You really didn’t have to do this, so it means a lot that you did.”

“Of course I did,” Eddie replies, like it's just that simple. Your brows furrow. “You’re a member of this party now, and as a fellow party member, it’s my duty to help other party members out when they’re in need.”

“A ‘party member’?”

You’re sure you catch the faintest blush across his cheeks from your question.

“Sorry, uh, I guess it just means you’re one of us now…A friend,” Eddie explains.

“A friend,” You repeat. And you find the word involuntarily pulls your lips into a soft smile.

“Anyway, you should probably get going,” Eddie reminds with another glance at the clock.

“Yeah, okay,” You agree, turning to open the door. “Oh, um, where did you say the restaurant was again?” You ask when you’re out in the hallway.

“It’s um…You know what? Why don’t I just walk you there?” Eddie offers.

“Really? You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Eddie says with a charming smile.

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

Cordelia was an intense woman. Eddie had warned you of this, though you had wildly underestimated the level of intensity the woman embodied. She was tall, and wore her long, black hair up in a sleek ponytail, not a flyaway in sight. Her office was large and so neat that you thought it looked like some sort of staged set for a decor magazine.

During your interview, you learned exactly one thing about Cordelia: Cordelia does not fuck around. She did not have time for exchanging pleasantries, and a simple handshake and a “take a seat” was the only introduction she provided you with before she began the interview, which mostly felt more like a police interrogation than a job interview.

By the end, you thought you felt good about how it went, but Cordelia was hard to read. You never once saw her smile or provide you with any kind of verbal or non-verbal communication that would indicate that she was impressed with your resume or any of your answers to her questions.

It was likely one of the most strange job interviews you had ever had. It didn’t necessarily leave you full of hope as you got up from the leather upholstered chair and Cordelia informed you that you would receive a call if she decided to hire you.

Walking through the restaurant–which was void of patrons, but had some staff preparing and setting up for opening in a few hours–, you finally come to the large glass entrance doors, and push one open. The late November chill blasts you in the face immediately and the switch from the warmth of the restaurant to this shiver-worthy weather is jarring. Had it somehow dropped five degrees from when you’d walked here?

Turning right and beginning your trek back home, you hear a voice call out your name from behind you.

You ignore it at first, thinking that the person can’t be calling out to you since you know a grand total of four people so far (five if you count Cordelia—but you don’t) and surely there are other people in this massively diverse city that also have your name.

“Hey!” The voice calls again once you’ve made it no more than fifteen feet from the restaurant.

Finally, you stop walking and spin around to locate the source, and what you find surprises you.

Eddie is currently jogging toward you.

He’d waited this whole time? Out in the freezing cold? With that effortlessly cool leather jacket that is an extremely pathetic excuse for a winter coat and is definitely doing nothing to keep the warmth in?

“Hey,” He says again once he reaches you.

“Hey,” You say. “You didn’t have to wait for me, Eddie.” Because he really didn’t and you don’t want to be a burden or make him think you’re taking advantage of his kindness.

“Seeing as you’re going in the wrong direction, it’s probably a good thing I did,” Eddie tells you, nodding back in the other direction with a gentle, c’mon. You feel your face warm even as the wind whips you.

“Thanks,” You say sheepishly, walking in step with Eddie—in the correct direction now.

“So, how’d it go? Did you crush it?” He asks hopefully, head turned to look at you, and his shoulders pushed up by his red-tipped ears as though he’s trying to conserve heat.

The furrow in your brow and your soft stuttering must be enough for Eddie to understand exactly how it went, as he speaks before you can provide him with your best approximation of how the interview might have gone.

“Yeah, that’s normal with Cordelia. That woman is impossible to read,” He says, shaking his head as you both stop at a crosswalk.

“Right? Oh my God. I’m glad it wasn’t just me,” You say, relieved because that means that the interview wasn’t a total disaster. Is that what that means?

“Yeah, we call her Medusa,” Eddie remarks with a sidelong glance at you.

You snort unattractively at the nickname and just as quickly bring your hand to your face, covering your mouth as if the action could force the sound back in.

“Fitting,” You say, coughing as a cover for the noise when Eddie looks at you, brows raised, supposedly amused by your amusement.

Eddie smirks to himself, barely noticeable, before asking, “Did she say she’d call?” As you look both ways before crossing the street with many other bundled-up New Yorkers.

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“That’s a good sign,” He answers, his shoulders shaking with a sudden shiver. That simple statement allows just a little drop of hope to blossom in your chest.

“Are you cold?” You ask because he can’t not be freezing. He’s not exactly convincing you otherwise.

“Yeah. I can’t feel my fingers,” Eddie states plainly.

“Wanna jog the rest of the way?” You offer, mostly joking.

“Please,” He replies anyway.

Though you don’t exactly jog the last few blocks home, you do pick up the pace, and when you get back you make him some tea to warm him up (and hopefully bring back feeling in his fingers).

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

Since your interview every time the phone rings you basically leap over any obstacles in your way to get to the phone, hoping it will be Cordelia calling about your waitressing position as Hannigan’s. But each time the phone rings and it’s a telemarketer, or the bank, or anyone other than Medusa herself, you lose just a little more of that small inkling of hope you allowed yourself to have.

At present, you sit on the couch in the living room beside Robin while you eat noodles; the rest of the Chinese spread sitting on the coffee table in front of you or in the laps of Steve, Eddie, and Robin.

On the plush chair to your left sits Steve who is currently chowing down on some dumplings while staring with rapt attention at the television, and Eddie–who announced his newfound aversion to normative seating options upon his arrival in your home–sits on the floor by your socked feet.

Though the TV is on, you aren’t really paying attention. It’s been just over a week now since you moved in and one week to the day since your interview, and by now you’ve lost all hope.

Privately, you decided that you would call time of death on this potential job by the end of today and start searching for a new one tomorrow. You know there’s plenty of other jobs out there, but the prospect of working with Robin and Eddie had excited you and made you a whole lot less anxious about working in this new city.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

Hope surges inside of you despite your intentions of abandoning it. Suddenly, you feel three sets of eyes on you. Even Steve—who had been incredibly invested in the lifeguards running in slow motion on the television screen—looks at you now.

They all knew you’d been waiting for the call. They also knew that you hadn’t received one. Not the one, at least. You wish you had time to get up and answer the phone that sits on the side table in your bedroom because you’d really rather not admit to them that it’s simply another telemarketer.

Since you don’t have the time to reach the phone in your bedroom though, you pull in a deep breath, reach over the sofa arm, and pick up the landline that sits on the glass end table.

“Hello?”

“Hello, this is Cordelia Hannigan from Hannigan’s-”

And after that you think you black out. Because you don’t hear anything after that. Because this is the happiest you’ve ever been about getting a call about a job. Which sounds ridiculous since it’s just a waitressing job. But it represents so much more. It’s the seal that cements your place in this city with these people. It represents your new beginning.

With that realization you decide that you should probably listen to your new beginning. Trying your best to tune into Cordelia’s words, you hear her throwing words and phrases around like strict dress code and uniform and training and first shift. When she’s done, you tell her thank you, and return the phone to the base, hanging it up with a resolute click.

Three sets of eyes remain on you and your frozen body. When you don’t say anything after one second of hanging up, they get restless.

“So?” Steve prompts, leaning forward in his chair in anticipation.

“Was it Medusa?” Robin asks from your side.

You nod slowly, not believing it yourself. “Uh-huh…I got the job.”

“You got the job!” They all shout in freaky unison. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You think you hear Steve mutter déjà-vu to himself as Robin and Eddie continue their cheering and congratulating.

“I-I start training this week and my first shift next week,” You inform.

And then Eddie’s shouting, “Speech, speech, speech!” with his hands cupped over his mouth as if you’re much further away from him.

“Alright, alright!” You acquiesce as the others join his chant, putting your noodles down on the coffee table and getting up to stand in front of the television.

“Um, I guess I just want to thank all of you,” You begin, feeling suddenly sincere, but still maintaining a note of jest. “I couldn’t have done it without all of you. Steve, you helped me transport and unpack most of my shit. And I have a lot of shit.”

He nods in agreement. “And I couldn’t have focused on prepping for the interview if I was worried about my stuff sitting in my car in that garage, so thank you…Robin, you helped me set up the interview with Cordelia-”

“Medusa,” Robin and Eddie correct simultaneously.

“Medusa,” You correct yourself. “And you also recommended me for the position. So, thank you…And last, but certainly not least, Eddie,” You say, smiling softly when you catch his eye. He smiles right back at you, that charming dimple appearing on his face as he does.

“Without your pointers I probably would not have made it through the interview without being turned to stone.”–Eddie snorts–“And I also probably would have gotten completely lost and wandered into the East River if you hadn’t been there when I left. So, thank you…” You tell him sincerely, the partially joking tone you had maintained throughout your cheesy speech erased completely now since your gaze had fallen on him.

“Good night, New York!” You finish, trying to play up the cheesiness now to divert from the seriousness that had snuck into your tone, and you bow dramatically as Robin and Eddie clap and woop. But Steve, you notice, is glancing oddly as Eddie.

You laugh as you take your seat, plucking your cardboard box of noodles off the table as you go.

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

“Robin!” You hear Steve call from out in the living room, his voice muffled slightly through your closed bedroom door. “The door!”

Robin’s door creaks open before you hear her exit her bedroom.

“You couldn’t have gotten it?” She complains as she walks through the apartment to answer the door.

“No. Baywatch is on,” Steve replies like his answer needs no further explanation. You snicker to yourself as you button up your pressed, white uniform shirt. You swear you can hear Robin’s eyes rolling.

Baywatch was Steve’s favourite TV show; he never missed an episode—except for last week when a meeting at his school ran longer than expected and he’d called Robin to get her to tape it for him. He decided that now–while you were both getting ready to leave for work–was the perfect time to come over and watch it (instead of taking the tape back to his place since your TV is better anyway).

The apartment's front door–which remains perpetually unlocked when you and Robin are home–opens and you listen closely to hear who it might be while you work on tucking your shirt into your formal black dress pants.

“Oh. Hey, Eddie,” You hear Robin greet, though it sounds more like a question with the confusion lacing her tone.

“Hey,” Eddie says, his footsteps tapping against the faux hardwood as Robin shuts the door with a loud slam.

With a quick glance over at your alarm clock, you find that it’s almost time to leave. The realization sends nervous butterflies to flight in your belly. Tonight is your very first shift at Hannigan’s.

Last week you had your training, which was nerve-wracking, but tonight was the real thing. Tonight you would be earning your first dollar, receiving your first tip, suggesting wine pairings, and probably dealing with rude customers. And all of it makes you nervous.

It’s scary for so many reasons, for more reasons than just the fact that new jobs (no matter what they are) are always scary. It’s scary because it’s the next step in the process of making a new–hopefully better–life for yourself here. For that reason, you want it to go well. But you aren’t sure what ‘well’ really means in this situation.

“Y/N!” Robin calls, shaking you from your thoughts. “Cab’s here!”

Blowing out a quick breath, and trying your best to shake out your nerves, you grab your jacket and bag and exit your bedroom, still feeling those butterflies, but determined not to let them shake you. At least not too much.

Leaning against the now open apartment door is Eddie who’s dressed in the same black dress pants and white button-up as you and Robin. He shoots you an easy smile as you emerge from your room, and you smile back.

His long hair, which he usually lets flow over his shoulders in soft waves, is now tied in a low bun. He’s missing his usual chunky silver rings and all his tattoos are hidden beneath his sleeves and a highly buttoned collar.

Though it’s strange to see him stripped of his unique accessories, you find yourself scrolling your eyes over his body. With his hair away from his face, his features are highlighted, revealing the strong line of his jaw and making his eyes appear somehow larger.

As your eyes move down his body, you note the way his arms look in the button up, how his thighs fill out the dress pants. You find yourself missing his rings though. Something twists in your belly, though this time it’s not nerves.

“Ready?” Robin’s voice asks, once again shaking you from your thoughts. She must notice that you weren’t entirely there, that you were lost in your thoughts because she stops shoving things into her bag to ask: “You okay?”

Ripping your gaze away from Eddie and turning to Robin, you reply, “Yeah!” in a voice much higher than your own. You cough quickly as a cover and repeat your words, sounding much less caught out the second time.

“Okay,” Robin drawls suspiciously. “Well, we should really get down to the cab now cause we probably have about 60 seconds before they decide to leave and force us to brave the windchill ourselves,” She informs, pulling her jacket on and shoving her tote bag over her shoulder. “Alright, you’ll lock up and we’ll see you at the coffee house afterwards?” Robin asks Steve.

“Yeah, sure,” He replies absentmindedly from where he’s glued to the sofa.

“Shit, I should probably get my keys then,” You mutter. If they’re going to the coffee house after your shift, then you can’t rely on Robin unlocking the door for you if you’re not together when you get home.

Before you can walk back to your room to retrieve your keys though, Steve pipes up. You’re pretty sure it’s the first time he’s taken his eyes off the television since he got here.

“Wait, you’re not coming?” He asks, his body twisted to look at you with his arm draped over the back of the couch.

“Oh,” You reply dumbly because ‘we’ apparently included you. You were a part of the ‘we’ Robin meant. ‘We’, as in Robin, Eddie, Steve, and you.

It’s not like they haven’t been welcoming since you got here, but it’s only been a few weeks and they’ve been friends and neighbours for years; you thought it might take them longer to accept you into the group since they’re so solid. A part of you felt like they might still see you as an outsider; someone who doesn’t get invited to their after-work coffee shop hangouts just yet. But they’d expected you to come. Sometime within the last couple weeks you became a part of their definition of ‘we’.

“No, I’ll come,” You confirm with a nod in an attempt to appear casual about the invite.

“Awesome,” Steve says, turning back to the television.

“Guys!” Robin shouts and you realize then that she’s no longer in the apartment. Eddie pokes his head out into the hall as Robin says, “Come on, the cab is waiting!”

“Yep, coming,” Eddie says and you follow right behind him, feeling so many things all at once. Nervous about your shift, excited about being invited to the coffee house, and another thing for Eddie that you can’t quite name just yet.

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

The fast-paced environment of Hannigan’s is overwhelming, and while normally it might frazzle you, you find that you don’t mind it nearly as much as you thought you might. It’s definitely a different environment than your last job–a desk job that only promoted boredom within you–, but the new challenge of this place is stimulating.

As the night goes on, the din of the restaurant only intensifies; nearly every table and booth is filled with patrons talking and enjoying their 5-star meals, the sounds of cutlery clashing against fine china, hosts and hostesses greeting people at the entrance and making reservations for customers over the phone for months from now, the sizzling, clinking sounds roaring from the kitchen when the swinging traffic doors open, then shushing when the doors close again.

With just over an hour left of your shift and the clearing of what feels like the thousandth table you’ve waited on tonight, you watch as yet another diner is seated in your section. He’s a tall man, his dark hair styled precisely atop his head, and has a short goatee beard, trimmed to perfection. It reminds you of Kurt Cobain’s facial hair, though nothing else about him resembles the rock icon. The man looks rich–though you suppose most people who dine here are. From what you can tell with the distance between you, he might be about ten years your senior.

Not wanting to keep him waiting, you begin to stride over to his table, though you are just as soon intercepted, a large hand gently engulfing your wrist. You turn and find that the hand is attached to Eddie, his deep brown eyes staring back at you, and suddenly the contact brings heat to your face and a zip of something unnamable down your arm. Both of you retract your hands swiftly before Eddie explains his interception: “Why don’t you let me take this table, yeah?”

Confusion muddles your features for a moment. Why on earth would Eddie want to take on another table? It’s busy enough in here as it is. Plus, taking a table that is not in your section is strictly against the rules and as it’s your very first shift here, you’re not quite comfortable enough just yet to bend any rules. Especially not when they were fiercely outlined to you by Cordelia, who you were sure that if she possessed the powers of Medusa like Eddie and Robin say, she would surely turn you to stone if she caught you breaking any of them.

Since you’re not willing to risk getting yourself or Eddie into any sort of trouble, you tell him: “You have your own section to worry about, Eddie. Don’t worry about mine, I got this.” With an easy smile in hopes of further reassuring him, though you’re not sure of what.

You barely make it a few steps in the direction of your table before he’s stopping you again, this time with a gentle hand at your elbow.

“It’s just that…I’ve had that guy in my section before and he’s…difficult,” Eddie explains, struggling to come up with a word to describe him and seemingly being displeased with the one he chose as his brows furrowed together.

Oh.

His explanation causes heat to rise to your face, warming your entire chest with a strange fuzzy feeling. Was Eddie trying to protect you? If he was, that was very sweet of him, but still, you can’t allow him to take this table for you–even though you feel like you could melt to mush in his grasp right now.

“I’ve dealt with difficult people all evening,” You say. “I’ve got this.”

Before he can protest anymore or continue to convince you not to take the table, you’re walking away from him, your soft skin slipping from his gentle grip.

Eddie watches you walk away, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as you greet Paul and hand him the menu. The second Eddie sees that trademark salacious smirk creep across Paul’s face, Eddie’s jaw clenches involuntarily, but it’s not like he can do anything about it now.

Had he had any right to try to do anything about it before? To try to take your table? He hasn’t known you very long, so who is he to step in and attempt to protect you from that creep? He shouldn’t even feel this protective of you, this jealous. What the fuck is going on with him lately?

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

Collapsing onto the big fluffy couch at The Ugly Mug, you feel yourself instantly sink into the soft cushions. Have they always felt like literal clouds molding perfectly to your body or does it just seem that way after being on your feet for hours?

Now that your first shift is over you can appreciate how truly tiring it was. Adrenaline must have helped you stay on your feet all night, helped you acclimate to the job, but now that you’re seated in the calm, quiet atmosphere of the coffee shop, all that energy has left you entirely.

“Ugh, is it always this exhausting?” You sigh, slumped between Robin and Eddie. Steve sits on a plush chair next to the couch.

“I-” Robin begins, but Eddie interrupts before she can finish.

“Don’t lie to her, Rob,” Eddie says, sensing that Robin was likely about to lie in order to comfort you.

“Fine,” She replies, sighing, exhaustion weighing heavy in her bones as well. “It is. It’s always this exhausting…”

“But,” Robin drawls teasingly, pushing herself up so she’s no longer slumped down on the couch. “It’s not every shift you get hit on,” She says, wiggling her brows suggestively at you.

“What? Who got hit on?” Steve pipes up curiously, placing his pastry down on the round table beside him.

“Y/N,” Robin confirms teasingly, and you cover your face with your hands.

Eddie huffs from beside you as Steve says, “What? No way! By who?”

“One of the rich guys. I think he’s a new regular–Paul,” Robin answers, a childish tone to her voice when she says his name that makes you think she might start singing Sitting In A Tree with yours and Paul’s names any second now.

Steve’s eyes widen comically and Eddie grumbles something incoherent from your side, but you don’t get the chance to ask him what he said before Steve is hurriedly asking: “So? What happened?”

“Well, he asked me out,” You reply, a little embarrassed from their excitement as you adjust so your legs are crossed under you. Paul was charming from the moment you handed him his menu, all smiles and classic handsomeness.

“And you said?”

“I said yes,” You reply quietly at the same time as Robin exclaims, She said yes! She’d cackled when you’d told her about it at your lockers after your shift ended, joking that you could quit Hannigan’s and Paul could become your sugar daddy instead.

Normally, you might have declined such an offer from someone you’d just met–especially if that someone was 10 years older than you–, but the whole point of this move was change. Change required doing things you might not normally do, it required some spontaneity and courage. Both of which were not necessarily your strong suits, but you were trying. The first step was simply saying yes to things.

Steve smiles, impressed. “Alright, Y/L/N!”

And then, realization dawns over his features and he quickly turns his attention to Robin.

“Speaking of dates…” Steve begins, using the same salacious tone Robin had used earlier. “Robin, how are things going with Alicia?”

Looking at Robin, her eyes widen as she replies, “Oh my God, I totally spaced and forgot to tell you!”

Leaning in closer to Eddie on your other side, you whisper, “Who’s Alicia?”

“This girl Robin’s been seeing for a bit,” He answers easily.

You tune back into the conversation just in time to hear Robin inform, “I asked her to be my girlfriend.” Even if you weren’t looking at her right now you’d be able to hear the smile in her voice.

“That’s great, what’d she say?” Steve asks, jumping in even as Robin opens her mouth to continue, clearly not finished speaking.

“She said yes!” Robin exclaims, not even pausing to tease him about his over-eagerness to hear the rest of the story or give him a playful roll of her eyes like she usually might. This Alicia woman must mean a lot to Robin if she’s obliged to censor her usual sarcastic quips.

“Fuck yeah!” Says Steve as he high fives Robin and you chuckle at their odd celebration.

“Robin, that’s great. I’m so happy for you,” You congratulate, hand on her shoulder, remembering when you were teens and she never thought she’d get to have a girlfriend. Robin smiles sheepishly now.

What a satisfying end to the day. You’re exhausted, but at the same time exhilarated. It feels like things are finally falling into place, like you’d been putting together a puzzle and some of the pieces had gone missing. But you’ve found some of them, and now you’re sliding them into their places. And they fit. For the first time, you feel like you fit, and that makes you believe that everything is going to be okay–that you’re going to be okay.

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

“So,” Robin drawls as she places two juices on the kitchen table in front of you, one for her and one for you. “Where’s he taking you?”

“I don’t know yet, actually. All I know is that it’s ‘somewhere nice’ and he’s going to be picking me up at 7:30-ish,” You reply as you twist the cap off your drink.

“Mysterious,” Robin comments after taking a sip of her juice.

“Your date’s tonight?” Steve asks as he wanders into the kitchen and sticks his head into the fridge, likely scouring the shelves for a snack.

“Yeah, why?”

Steve stands from his bent position inside the fridge and turns to you and Robin, a slice of cold pizza in hand. “Mine too! Gonna bring her her favourite flowers, take her to her favourite restaurant, go see the tree at Rockefeller–the whole shebang.”

Steve takes a giant bite out of his pizza slice, then slides over to the table and steals Robin’s drink. She makes a disgusted face at him in protest and pushes the drink away from her when he places it back on the table after taking a healthy swig.

“That’s really sweet, Steve. I’m sure she’ll have a great time,” You tell him genuinely.

“Ugh!” Robin groans, drawing your attention away from Steve as her head falls back on her shoulders dramatically. “Stop talking about dates! I haven’t seen Alicia in three days and I have a shift tonight,” She complains, pouting.

“You’re the one who brought it up,” Steve mutters, taking his slice with him into the living room where he joins Eddie and Nancy–who sit on the armchair and couch, reading and writing, respectively.

“Whatever,” Robin replies, slumping down in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Aren’t you seeing her tomorrow?” You ask though you know the answer because it’s all that she’s talked about since she last saw Alicia. You’re sure you could pick the girl out of a crowd without ever having seen her just from everything Robin has spewed to you about her. It’s nice to see her happy.

“Yeah,” Robin says, tone solemn.

“Why do you sound disappointed?” You wonder with a chuckle.

“Because tomorrow is not right now,” Robin explains and you snort at her impatience to see her girlfriend again.

God, you don’t remember the last time you felt that way about someone; wanting to be around them all the time, missing them the second they left your side. Maybe it was college the last time you’d felt that way? You haven’t really dated since then. That one disastrous blind date your previous co-workers set you up on does not count. You’d actually prefer to block it out of your memory.

Robin sighs. “Anyway, I should hop in the shower before my shift,” She says as she stands and heads to the bathroom. She’s genuinely bummed that she won’t get to see Alicia until tomorrow

“Have fun,” You joke, head falling back on your shoulders as you watch her walk into the bathroom upside-down. You think you hear a sarcastic ha-ha from her before the door shuts.

Also upside-down from your current perspective is Eddie who you see sliding the window to the balcony open before ducking under it and going out onto the balcony.

He’s been off all night. While usually he would be cracking jokes and being his usual over-dramatic, loud self, tonight he was uncharacteristically quiet, keeping to himself. You’ve spent enough time around him by now to tell when something might be up with him.

Standing and grabbing the large throw blanket tossed over one end of the couch, you wrap it around yourself before going to the window, sliding it open again and carefully ducking under it as you step out into the chilly night.

The remnants of winter's early sunset remains on the horizon, lining the city in a dark blue hue while the sky above and beyond that is blanketed by blackness and a dull smattering of stars. That’s the one thing you miss about living in a small town; the lack of light pollution allowed for the stars in the sky to burn bright. Here, it’s impossible to make out a constellation from the street. You suppose the city lights are as close to stars as you’ll get out here.

Eddie leans against the brick and concrete balcony wall, his forearms perched on the cold surface, watching the city as plumes of cigarette smoke swirl around his head. He turns to look at you when he hears you approaching, tucking his chin to his shoulder.

“Hm,” You hum, coming up beside him and leaning over the wall, a blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You shiver and he has the urge to remove his leather jacket and wrap it around you.

“Um,” Eddie begins, unsure of how to phrase this so it doesn’t sound like he’s shooing you off. Just because he doesn’t understand why you’re out here with him doesn’t mean he wants you to leave. He enjoys your company, wants to be around you more. As much as possible, actually. “Did-did you need something?”

You hesitate for a moment, before saying, “No. No, I just wanted to come check on you.” Though it sounds more like a question. Like you’re prompting him gently.

“Oh. Okay,” Eddie replies, surprised and not sure what else to say to that. You’re so thoughtful and observant it makes his chest hurt.

Eddie can feel you examining his face closely and he lets you, continuing to stare out at the city below.

“I can leave if you-”

“No,” Eddie replies suddenly before you can even finish your sentence, his eyes finding yours as he says it. Your eyes are wide, expectant. “I mean-no. You’re good.”

“Okay,” You say, settling in beside him.

The conversation tapers off again and you’re left with the sounds of honking cars, the muffled racket of people talking in the street below, the robust sound of a public bus stopping down at the corner. A harsh wind kisses your cheeks, likely staining Eddie’s pink.

He feels awkward. He’s never felt awkward around you before. Not even when you almost strangled him that one morning and he smashed his head against the coffee table. Maybe it’s because of everything going on in his head right now.

An odd tension sizzles between you. He can feel its strength, more fierce than the wind. But it’s elusive, an enigma he can’t quite grasp. He wants not to think about it and tries not to since he can’t do anything about it anyway.

“How are you adjusting?”

“Are you okay?”

You both break the silence at the same time. A smile breaks across your face and Eddie blows a harsh breath out through his nose.

“Sorry, you go first,” Eddie offers.

“I just-are you alright?” You rush out after a brief pause, seemingly self-conscious of the question, though Eddie could never imagine why. “I just thought you maybe seemed a bit off in there…And, like, usually when people separate from the pack, it might mean something’s up,” You explain slowly, that almost inquisitive tone appearing in your voice again.

Eddie side eyes you, your perceptiveness surprising.

You must take the glance to mean that he’s annoyed because you say, wanting to lighten the mood, “...Or they just want to be left the hell alone.”

Eddie snorts, turning his body to face yours now, his right hip pressed into the cold concrete wall with his elbow resting atop it. You mirror his stance, adjusting the fluffy blanket around you as you go.

“But I find it usually means the first thing….And-and a lot of the time I don’t think that people really want to be left alone, even if they say they do.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie teases lightly, wanting to shift the focus away from himself. He can’t tell you what’s wrong.

“Mhm,” You nod, playing along with his teasing by holding your head high as if you have all the wisdom in the world to offer. But then your expression changes. Just slightly, but Eddie sees it. What you say next isn’t teasing, what you say next is from your soul.

“I think what they really want—more than anything—is to not have to be alone ever again,” You say, and it’s like a shadow passes over your face. He notes the change in your eyes; like you’re living a past feeling.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees after a beat, tone the furthest from teasing it’s ever been. Both because he knows the feeling, but also because he doesn’t want you to feel alone in it. Because he can tell you’ve been really lonely before. And he hates that his evasion of your question made you recall that loneliness.

That look in your eyes disappears, and you seem to shake out of it easily as you look him in the face and ask, “What are you thinking?”

It’s a pretty innocuous question. But right now, at this moment, it holds more weight.

“I’m thinking that…you’re right. I guess I’ve just been in my head.”

He wasn’t planning on revealing that. He doesn’t even know why he said anything. It’s like you pulled it out of him. It’s like he can’t resist.

“Yeah? About what?” You ask, eyes searching his.

He can’t tell you. He wishes he could, but he can’t. It would be such a jerk move to tell you before your date. And it’s not like he could have told you earlier either. Not after the promise he’d made. He already feels like he’s said too much.

“We don’t have to talk about it. I get it,” You say after he doesn’t reply.

But you don’t sound hurt. Instead, you sound sincere in your acceptance of the fact that he doesn’t want to say anything. It makes him want to tell you even more. Your sincere kindness, your thoughtfulness, it makes him ache. How can he not be honest with you? Especially when you’ve been so honest with him.

In order to honour his previous promise, Eddie layers the truth in a sheer veil of lies, concealing parts of the truth, while revealing others.

“There’s-there’s this girl,” Eddie begins, working out how he’s going to weave lies in with the truth. “But one of the guys from my band–Jeff–asked her out recently…And I-”

“You like her too?” You guess. You’d known from the secret smile that crept onto his face; fond but sad.

Eddie nods slowly, relieved that he didn’t have to say the words aloud himself. Like saying them would make it more real, would confirm what he already knows.

“But Jeff asked her out first. So I don’t have a right to…to feel the way I do about it,” Eddie explains, navigating his way around the truth. He’s lying to you almost as much as he’s lying to himself. “And it would be wrong to tell her now. I’d be betraying Jeff’s trust.” It’s not Jeff’s trust he’d be betraying.

You sigh, stumped. “I’m sorry, that’s hard…tell me about her?” You ask, though your voice sounds strained.

God, you’re so nice. It’s killing him. He feels so guilty. How can he lie to you about you? He can’t. Not when you’re looking at him like you are. Like every word out of his mouth is the most important thing that has ever been said.

“Um…Well. She’s-she’s open-minded and accepting, a little weird,” Eddie describes with a chuckle, remembering the morning you greeted him with your bathrobe tie.

When your eyes connect, he can’t help but soften, impassioned as he looks into them. Wanting so badly to let you know he’s talking about you, he toes the line.

“She’s genuine. Honest. What you see is what you get with her,” Eddie says. The city noise fades away and your breaths become the wind, your eyes the city lights.

“She cares about her friends. It feels like she always knows the right thing to say, even if she feels like she doesn’t…And she’s the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

Something changes in your expression. Your eyes burn, searching his intently, looking back and forth between the left and the right. His eyes can’t lie, he can’t force them to. They reveal everything. They can’t conceal or contain his feelings.

Eddie yearns to hold your face gently in his hands, to feel your lips against his, to feel your smile as he kisses you.

Your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as if sudden emotion overwhelms you, your eyes aflame. You wait in anticipation for his next words as wind whistles around you, ruffling your blanket.

“Anyway,” Eddie coughs, dispelling the tension, and glances down at his wristwatch. “It’s getting late, you should probably start getting ready for your date.”

Recognition flashes in your eyes, like you’d forgotten entirely about your upcoming commitment.

The spell is broken. He hadn’t even realized there’d been a spell until it was broken.

You take a step back and it’s then Eddie realizes you were so close your toes were nearly touching. Shit. Why had he done that? That was almost worse than telling you everything he’d said was actually about you.

“Yeah. Right,” You agree, walking back towards the window.

Eddie turns and leans against the balcony wall, looks back over the city. The wind is the wind, and the lights are just lights.

“Oh, and Eddie?” You call. Eddie swivels his head to look back at you, one foot inside the apartment and one out on the balcony with him, straddling the window sill. “I hope it works out with her.”

Eddie gives you a good-natured smile. “Yeah. Me too,” He replies as you duck under the window and return to the apartment. You close it shut softly, leaving him with the wind and the lights.

Eventually, Eddie goes back inside too, locking every intense emotion that had built up inside of him out in the cold.

As he wanders back into the apartment, he finds your bedroom door is now closed and Nancy’s spot on the couch is vacant. Robin is rushing out of her room in her work uniform while she roots through her bag, mumbling about her keys. And Steve, who’s snacking on some grapes from the fruit bowl on the counter, has Robin’s keys casually swinging from his index finger. Though Robin doesn’t notice until Steve ahem’s, and she snatches them from his hand before reaching the door.

“Oh!” She says as her hand twists the handle, and spins around on her heel to face Eddie and Steve. “If either one of you is still here before Y/N leaves, tell her to have a good night with Paul. She deserves it.”

And the door slams shut behind her as Eddie takes his seat on the couch.

He has every intention of picking his book back up where he left off. Though it remains open in his hands as he stares at your door. He can’t stop staring at your door. Which should be infinitely less captivating than the words between the pages in his hands. And yet it is not. It is far more captivating than any book he has ever or will ever read. The thought strikes him like a bolt of lightning zapping a tree and setting it on fire.

“Hey, man, are you okay?” Steve asks, noticing Eddie’s prolonged staring at your door.

Pulling his eyes very slowly away from your door, Eddie replies, “Yeah, I…Yeah.”

When his gaze finds Steve’s, he’s looking at Eddie like he’s trying to do long division in his head.

“...Okay,” Steve drawls, retrieving his jacket from the counter in the kitchen. “We’re definitely gonna talk about that later. But for now, I gotta pick up Joselyn. Later, man!” He calls as he exits the apartment, leaving just Eddie and your door, alone.

He’s not necessarily looking forward to whatever conversation Steve wants to have with him later, but he’s hoping this Joselyn woman will keep Steve busy long enough for Eddie to avoid the conversation entirely–at least for the night.

It’s been 23 minutes and your bedroom door still has not opened. Eddie knows the exact amount of time it remains closed because although he had tried to focus on the words in his book after Steve left, he simply could not stop looking at your door. And wondering when it would open. Hoping it would open. Estimating when it would open by calculating how long it might take you to get ready. For a solid three seconds, Eddie debates knocking on it, before deciding that’s crazy because-

The door opens.

“How do I-”

Eddie stares. Suddenly your door becomes the least captivating thing in the room–in the entire universe–and he can’t believe he ever thought it was captivating to begin with.

Your black dress—which reaches your ankles—is simple, though it hugs your body wonderfully. The straps are thin and the neck is square-shaped.

Eddie could equate your beauty to a thousand other beautiful things. He could equate it to paintings and sunsets and flowers. He could equate it to the most beautiful poetry and the most profound stories. But the truth is that none of his comparisons would ever be enough. None of them could express how he feels when he looks at you; like his heart stops and speeds up in his chest at the same time. Like he’s never seen anything beautiful in his life until this moment or even knew what the word beauty meant until he saw you.

“Oh-Everyone left already?” You question when you realize Eddie is alone. You and Eddie are alone.

“Y-yeah,” Eddie stutters, mouth suddenly dry.

“Oh…alright.”

Eddie swallows hard, trying his very best not to watch you like he’d watched your door. But that task proves impossible. And now it’s quiet. And it’s been quiet for far too long as you stand there fidgeting with your shawl looking like that with no one to tell you that you look like that. No one except Eddie.

“Um,” Eddie begins. Great start. He can’t say what he wants to, so instead he explains his presence: “I didn’t wanna leave without letting you know, since everyone else left...But, uh, what-what were you gonna say…before?” God, he was the worst! If he can’t say the word to himself, how is he supposed to repeat it out loud to you?

“Oh,” You say, looking down at yourself bashfully. “I was just gonna ask how I looked,” You explain, waving your hand in dismissal.

Eddie wants to not be the worst. Eddie wants you to think that he’s not the worst. Eddie wants you to know that you look like that.

“You look great,” He says, slightly breathless. ‘Great’ is a safe word, it’s a friendly word. It’s not the word he wanted to use.

You smile softly, averting your eyes from him and to the floor as you say a meek, but sincere, “Thank you.”

Eddie really shouldn’t say anymore. But he loves the way it feels when you get all shy from his compliments. He loves the way you thank him. Like you know his compliment is true, but to hear him say it means something different, something special.

So he can’t keep it in. But he wills himself to reign in his emotions; to freeze the butterflies in his belly before they take flight.

“You-” look really pretty. “Your dress is really pretty.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” You say, swaying nervously on the spot.

Fuck. Shit. Jesus Christ! There wasn’t a net big enough in the world to contain the swarm of butterflies fluttering in his belly right now. It’s downright embarrassing.

You seek out his eyes. And Eddie knows. And you part your lips, about to speak.

“I-”

Knock, knock, knock.

All too soon, your gaze shifts to the front door. But Eddie’s eyes remain on you.

“Oh, that’s Paul,” You inform, pulling your shawl more tightly around your body before you begin walking towards the door. You make it about three paces before you realize, “Shoot, I forgot my purse in my room, would you mind getting the door?”

“Sure,” Eddie says, minding a whole awful lot. But he stands from the couch anyway and makes his way to the door as you head back into your bedroom.

The door swings open, revealing a sharply dressed Paul leaning against the doorframe. His suit is pressed to perfection, not a wrinkle in sight. It’s too pristine, like he’s not moved in it, not sat down.

When Paul lifts his head from where it’s bent on his neck, his salacious smirk disappears the moment he sees Eddie. He’s far less handsome with that ugly frown on his face. He looks like a petulant child.

“What are you doing here?”

Eddie bites his tongue. Then forces a fake smile as he greets politely, “Good to see you too, Paul.”

He expected nothing less from the guy, but that didn’t make it any easier to hold back. Sure, he wasn’t serving him in the restaurant–so there weren’t any clearly defined rules here–but you were about to go out on a date with the guy. So he held back.

“Y/N will be right out, she’s-”

The click of your heels against the wood floors sound behind him. Paul’s smirk spreads across his face like molasses as he eyes you. Though Eddie’s sure they don’t roam further than your chest.

A surge of unrightful possessiveness swells within him at Paul’s obvious ogling.

“Hey!” You greet him cheerily and Eddie steps aside, fading into the background.

“Hey, babe,” Paul says as you reach him and Eddie cringes at the territorial nickname. It takes everything in him not to shudder like he’s just seen a child pick their nose and wipe it on a pole in the subway.

You hug and Eddie watches as one of Paul's long arms stretches around your waist, though his hand hovers dangerously low before you pull away and Paul remarks, “Ready to go?”

“Yup,” You confirm, with a sweet smile. With that, Paul guides you out of the apartment with a hand on your middle back and just before you exit the apartment, you request: “Lock up on your way out?”

It shouldn’t feel this good to have your attention on him again. Shouldn’t make his heart skip in his chest.

Eddie just nods, sure that if he tried to speak, he would emit some embarrassing sound instead of a casual sure thing.

You smile at him widely, “Bye, Eddie.” Has his name always sounded that lovely?

“Bye, Y/N.” Has your name ever felt that lovely rolling off his tongue?

The door slams shut behind you.

“Shit.”

Eddie’s belly bubbles with a feeling. Jealousy burns in his gut. He has no right to feel this way. The moment he names it, he wants to un-name it. The moment he names it, he wants to ban the word from his mind, shove it inside one of those dark spots up there, and hope it never sees the light of day again.

He made a promise to Robin. He doesn’t get to feel this way.

So he tries his best not to call it what it is and tells himself that it has to be a simple combination of his hatred for Paul and his knowledge that you are a ridiculously wonderful person who deserves so much better than Paul Becker. But this is all he can allow himself to acknowledge.

What he will not acknowledge is the third part to this equation that adds up to this feeling. What he will not acknowledge is the way he feels when you look at him, when you say his name, when you stand in front of him in a black dress and he can’t tell you how pretty you look.

So he focuses on the one thing that is the most natural to him: the fact that Eddie hates Paul.

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

Next Chapter [coming soon]

A/N: And that is chapter one, folks! I've been working on this for months now, so I really, really hope you enjoyed it. Please consider reblogging and leaving a nice comment or sending me an ask telling me what you thought!

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willowshimmer · 8 months

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So I watched Fiona And Cake and I'm hooked...

First episode:

I love how it started with all the colors and how it felt! The voice acting was spot on and it felt surreal with the pastel theme.

"I don't wanna go to work......" Relatable... Especially since my school will start soon...

The way Cake is acting really true actually! Minus the ice... Also when cats ears and nose are cold that means they are healthy! If their hot then that means the cat is sick.

I honestly did not know Fionna's job was a thing....

When I saw Marshall Lee I screamed. I live for his DESIGN! And his personality.

Love Fern's hair. That's all I have to say.

Man Fionna's Boss is short I thought they were a kid.

Love Fionna's reaction from getting fired...And how she technically flipped of her now old boss.

PRINCE GUMBALL or should I say Gary...

Gary's so adorable! I would love to try the cookies he made! They look delicious and sweet and the latté there!

Fuck Gary's boss! He don't deserve to work with that short ass dwarf (No offense to anyone who's short) he deserves better!

When Marshall started singing I was just amazed by the voice acting again! Like such voice is amazing for him!

Oh the poor coffee...

Aw! Marshall likes the cookies! I hope he meets Gary some episode!

I don't trust this version of Lumpy space princess...

I LOVE HUNTER! They are so gentle and nice! I get a bit of gender enby vibes from them.

I LOVED THIS EPISODE!♥️

Below is the next episode review cause this is getting a bit long and cause I explore a few dark topics.

Second Episode:

I missed Simon so much!

I don't like how he's basically a human attraction to the citizens. I just don't feel comfortable with that cause of anxiety and I don't like getting asked questions in general.

I personally think that kid should've just left Simon alone and not talk about his past to HIS ENTIRE FAMILY!

I do think what's interesting about the trauma of Simon is that he's so traumatized from his past as the "Ice King" to the point he can't look at ice without freaking out. It's like soldiers who have been in wars and are so traumatized by loud sounds to the point they just at times attack.

I like Finn's new design! It matches well with now personality.

And I like how TV (One of Jake's kids) is with him.

So wait Jake's DEAD!?

Blindfolded into a forest... What could go wrong?

I really love the forest layout cause of colorful and bright it is! It blends in with the vibe it's going for.

I was at first like "Woah there's blood!" When Jake killed the fish but then it made sense cause Adventure Time came out year's ago and they now they're audience has grown since then so it makes sense.

I would love to hear more stories from before Simon was the Ice King.

"SUCK ON THESE NUTS!" YES!!

More things that I noticed about Simon when he was fighting the bear thing is that he's not a fighter, he's not violent, he's just trying to fit in the best he can but even he can't cause of how people keep reminding him about his past as the Ice King.

I know what Finn did was irresponsible cause he just blindfolded Simon and led him into a forest but let me explain. He's lost Jake. And when Jake dies he was probably and most likely devastated since he lost the only person he was mostly close to a that was like a brother to him. That's his way of coping with stuff! But he doesn't know alot about Simon so he tried to do the one thing that helped HIM! He tried.

I was so HAPPY to see Marceline and Bubblegum again!

I find it very funny that Bubblegum's skin sticks to the tattoo gun.

Love Marceline's new hair cut as well.

I just Simon to be happy with his wife! Is that to much to ask!?😭

Also I think I catched a Steven universe reference when Cake came out Simon's hair.

This episode was heavy and full of emotion to unpack and I think I like that!

I love the series so far and hope more of it soon!

Also I'M BACK!

#fionna and cake #fionna campbell #cake the cat #marshall lee #simon petrikov #marceline #princess bubblegum #finn the human #adventure time #prince bubblegum #lumpy space princess #jake the dog #bubbline #gumlee #gary prince

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noodle-anime · 5 months

Text

just! finished saiyuki og series!!! discovered the first resurrected edition volume recently and it has been. well. it's been a journey lol

oooooooooh boy there sure was some Anatomy and Proportions happening in the first volume but it was super fun to see the art style progress actually. it encouraged me to notice more complex poses and things in the later volumes, and when there was an occasional repeat panel like Sanzo and Goku's first look it was very cool to see the difference in quality.

i have a coupla favorite panels/spreads and generally tried to pay a little more attention to how things are precisely laid out and it was a fun aspect of reading. i want to do some actual breakdowns now, maybe compare early and later layouts.

also! i discovered and watched zeroin! my first intro to saiyuki was discovering reload blast forever ago. the art style in zeroin and the fact that there's a whole set of characters i'd never heard of before made it feel like an au or semi-canonical anime movie, sorta, but i enjoyed it So much and there are some specific notes on sanzo characterization that i want to dig into

sanzo is my fave and the kami-sama arc was So Very Good in that respect but it also grew my love for gojyo three sizes.

the way that they all react when gojyo leaves cracks me up so much. they're So Offended. something so funny and also so tasty that they will not under any circumstances admit out loud that they care about gojyo and miss him so instead they're like we are going to Hurt Him (because he hurt us) for Disrupting Our Daily Routine (he's a fundamental part of our lives) and FORCING us to turn this car around (he left with the full knowledge and expectation that they would follow through with actually continuing to pursue this Very Important job like they always said they would)

mmmmm gojyo's savior complex mmmm it's good.

got blasted by the idea of gojyo and hakkai starting an orphanage when they're done with the mission. hakkai was a teacher and still models himself as a "childcare professional"/co-parent to goku and gojyo wants to save somebody So Badly. also good luck resocializing goku to not be killing people/fighting for his life every other day for Two Entire Formative Teenage Years, helping kids and not having it backfire spectacularly in his face would be good for him

i just read the fourth volume so that's most of what i've got on my mind, i know i have More thoughts from the other volumes

besides the fact that sanzo's joints are gonna/have gotta be So Fucked Up. he really is a grandpa. poor guy.

feels good to nail some characterization aspects like genjyo "i'm a coldhearted bastard and you'd better stay out of my way" (developed coping mechanisms to deal with the traumatic loss of a parent and people repeatedly Attacking Him at an early age) sanzo, cho "yes i'm the wife/mother, please excuse these skeletons, the cleaver is only for special occasions" hakkai, sha "i'm the only one here who understands how to be a normal person" (he does not but he does have the highest emotional intelligence) gojyo, and son "i'm a teenager" (he's a teenager, also growing up with the aforementioned trio as parental/familial figures and starting to come into his own!!) goku

not a single one of these men has had a normal relationship or even prolonged interaction with a woman

i had no idea there was a whole brainwashing segment with kougaiji?? and i really want to see more of lirin, there are fun parallels there to explore that i really wanna dig into

i had no idea to what level sanzo was a bastard gremlin with a gun who just Happens to also be the highest of high priests before and now that i do it delights me. the very hypocrisy of his acceptance in his position disgusts him because He Is Not Priest Material but also it's what his dad wanted for him so fuck everybody who tries to take that from him. in any other situation he'd be the shady penniless vagabond gun for hire but koumyou happened. and now we all get to enjoy it.

#saiyuki #noodle reads #noodle reads saiyuki #saiyuki original series #noodle speaks #genjo sanzo #genjyo sanzo #sha gojyo #cho hakkai #son goku #saiyuki manga #saiyuki zeroin

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everythingfiction22 · 7 months

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Rating 2020/2021 Danganronpa Fanfictions

(Kokichi x Reader version)

Troublemakers At Night - I remember reading this one in 2021 and did a re-reading, apparently the author of this book has decided to re-write it now, I'd give it a solid 9/10.

The Ultimate Liar - This one I used to love back when it got published, looking back to it i got a different experince while reading it. 6/10 (There's also a 2nd book btw)

My Destroyer - Y/N is an alcoholic confirmed. 5/10

Childhood Prankster - Entertaining, it has that kinda drama that's bad yet you want to know what happens next. 7/10 (ALSO POOR Y/N.)

The Perfect Plaything - LOVE THE LAYOUT, overall good. 8/10

I am very much aware that there are many more out there, but i think my eyes are starting to burn from staring at a screen for so much. Not to mention Oneshots was a huge thing back then and there is a crap ton of them. It was actually both Enjoyable, cringe and funny to read these again. I'll probably make another version with other popular characters.

#danganronpa #fanfic #genshin #kokichi ouma #drv3 kokichi #danganronpa kokichi #kokichi x reader #drv3 ouma #kokichi oma #kokichi oma x reader #danganronpa v3

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springbloggy · 10 months

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The secret of Nimh was Don Bluth's debut as an independent animator, fresh out of working at Disney and disappointed with how Disney storytelling was going.

"We haven't been telling better stories than Snow White, and we should be. We're doing the same thing over and over again, but we're not doing it any better. Yet we know enough now so that we should be preparing the films in which the color and the music and the layouts and the backgrounds all change to fit the moods of a story in which everything combines to touch you. The pictures now are entertaining, they're fast-paced, and they're clear. Walt had all those things, and he touched you besides."

-interview with Don Bluth

So does the movie hold up to these ideals? Well after watching it, I'd say yes and no. First of all, the art is fantastic, it's absolutely beautiful and there were many moments that made me go "wow". Nimh absolutely holds up in terms of art and animation, with little details in the background that would catch my eye that made the world feel really "alive". The soundtrack also added to the feel of the movie, with orchestral scores that added to many of the beautiful visuals. But I am not here for just the animation and the music, I also watched for the story, and the story simply does not hold up. The first half of the movie has poor pacing, and the characters don't hold much appeal. Specific ones that caught my attention were Jeremy the crow and Mrs. Brisby, the main character. Jeremy might be one of the most insufferable characters in all of animation, if you haven't watched Nimh, picture Genie from Aladdin with all his charm removed. Every scene Jeremy appeared in, I immediately wanted to dart away from the movie. He is just insufferable as a character, not charming, nor funny, nor entertaining. Mrs. Brisby is the opposite, where the problem is for the majority of the movie, her character is pretty blank, and I consider her one of the blandest main characters of all time. Most of her character is being concerned about her son Timmy and being the wife of Mr. Brisby. The Bechdel test is a meme these days, but watching this movie made me understand why it was made. The rest of characters range from unlikable to bland, there isn't much of a reason for you to feel for any of them, root for the heroes, or feel anger towards the villain. Even if you don't mind the characters, the story as a whole doesn't really get interesting until halfway through, when Mrs. Brisby finally gets into the Rats of Nimh's hideout and learns the backstory of them. I remember watching this movie once as a kid as a Blockbuster rental and the backstory scene was the one that stuck with me and still is striking to me as an adult. If there's one specific scene from this movie to seek out, it's that. Sadly even after the backstory, there's still a lot of empty holes in the movie's story that aren't patched out and a lot of questions left about the world that are never answered. I like a good mystery, but NIMH has too many and the audience will go in and out of the experience with as much information as Mrs. Brisby does. Which is next-to-nothing.

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TLDR;

✅ What I liked:

Great animation

Great score

Fantastic backstory scene

❌ What I didn't like:

Left too many questions

Characters range from outright insufferable to bland

Doesn't pick up until halfway through

Overall ranking:

At the end of these I like to ask: "is it a good replacement for Disney movie?" For those who want to live a hypothetical Disney-free life for themselves and their children.

For The Secret of Nimh, I think it solely depends on which era of Disney you are referring to. It's a good replacement for a 70s Disney movie, back when they were releasing stuff like "The Rescuers" and "Robin Hood". Not so much for any other Disney eras. The fantastic animation is the highlight of Nimh, but everything else, sadly, has aged poorly and no longer holds up in the modern era of animation storytelling.

#don bluth #the secret of nimh #secret of nimh #animation #cartoon #review #springy thoughts #b

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thetavolution · 4 months

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I'm bringing my Tav-related stuff over here to not overload my regular tumblr haha.

First up is Tessa! More info:

I did borrow a lot of this profile layout from elfinbloodbag.

TESSA

Full name: Theresa Siân Chastain Name meaning:  Theresa: late summer; Siân: God is gracious; Chastain: chestnut Pronouns: She/Her Race: Human Age: 35 Orientation: Pansexual Romance: Gale Dekarios Class: Rogue Monk Subclass: Thief / Way of the Open Hand Origin: Criminal Theme song:  I Deserve to Bleed — Sushi Soucy / Used To Be Young — Miley Cyrus

Personality Despite being a professional thief, Tessa is a kind-hearted person. She always overflowing with joyful enthusiasm. Tessa is outgoing and funny. She’s the "mom friend" even if she hates it when people say that. She’s the one who takes care of everybody and tends to them physically and emotionally. Some say she missed her calling as a cleric.

She has a big heart and it’s easy to take advantage of it, especially with a good enough sob story. She has a good-natured sense of humor, but she's not averse to dark humor either. When she’s angry or hurt, or just talking to someone she hates, she can be particularly cold and scathing.

Tessa is far from morally perfect, of course. She’s made peace with stealing, focusing on targets that “deserve” it. That said, she doesn't believe in hoarding wealth. She keeps what she needs (with some left over as a little treat) and spreads the rest of it around to those who might need it.

She can get stuck on things, like an idea or desire. She'll become obsessed with it and remain laser focused on it to a fault.

Once you’re in her good graces, she is ride or die. While intelligent, she can be impulsive. She’ll realize how stupid her actions were after it’s too late to take it back. Going back to her motherly tendencies, she can also go full mama bear when loved ones are threatened.

She’s a romantic at heart and she’s looking for true love. Unfortunately, due to being so eager to find love, she’s jumped into some terrible relationships. Those closest to her will often acknowledge (or joke about) the fact that she overlooks a lot of red flags in the early stages of a relationship. (For Tom Cardy fans, she would be the one to date the person whose favorite film is Human Centipede.)

In her younger years, she was much more of a wild child which often comes back to bite her, especially when former lovers and enemies reappear in her life.

History Tessa was born in Bryn Shander, the largest of the Ten Towns in Icewind Dale. She and her twin brother, Leander, are the youngest of Edgard and Sibyl Chastain's six children. She’s technically the youngest since she was born five minutes after Leander.

Tessa was raised from birth to be a proficient thief. Her father, Edgard, is a renowned member of the Zhentarim. They mostly focus on stealing and smuggling. Tessa grew up learning to live life in the underbelly of the city. She never knew anything else, even though she always wished she could have the life of a “normal girl.”

She came to Baldur's Gate with her father on Zhentarim business when she was abducted and infected with a tadpole. It was their first time in the city, so the Chastains aren't a familiar face to the local Zhentarim members.

Likes: The thrill of stealing, fighting, helping people, taking care of the poor and the sick, reading, writing, animals (especially dogs/wolves), nighttime, rainy mornings, adventuring, music, and cold weather

Dislikes: Hot weather, hurting good people, nobility/the wealthy, bugs, abuses of power, and cruelty

Fears: She’s afraid of ending up alone. She’s also afraid she deserves to be alone. She questions if she’s actually a good person on an almost daily basis. She's terrified of growing older and having a life full of regrets. She feels as thought a lot of it has already passed her by.

Quirks: I don’t know if this counts as a quirk, but her left hand is her dominant hand. She likes to tap her foot like a rabbit, even when she isn’t nervous. People often mistake it for a nervous tick. It’s just something she’s always done. She has a loud laugh that she’s insecure about.

Mental Health: Tessa has daddy issues. Her father takes advantage of her and she’s desperate to earn his approval. She ties her self-worth to other people’s opinion of her. She often falls for terrible people because she’s so desperate to be loved. Her father never really showed her what it’s like to be properly cared for, and it shows. She doesn't even realize how bad her self-esteem is.

Favorite Foods: Sun-Dappled Paella and Cranberry Cake

Favorite Drinks: Tea and Brandy

Favorite Flower: Roses

Height:  5’7”/173 cm

Skin: Beige.

Hair:  Brown but with a slight ginger tint.

Eyes:  Green.

Color Scheme:  Generally, she wears whatever lets her hide in her environment. She wears a lot of blacks, greens, and browns. Back in her hometown, it’s not unusual for her to don white colors to blend into the snow.

When she’s dressing just for herself, she’ll wear blues and greens.

Fashion Sense: She’s mostly practical when it comes to her clothing. As a thief, she can’t really afford to be too gaudy or flashy. Everything she wears has a specific purpose. She is usually hiding behind the Shadow of Menzoberranzan cowl.

In the rare occasions she can dress for the sake of looking nice, she does like to wear intricate gowns. If you’re going to be a criminal, why not enjoy the fruits of your labor and have a nice dress or two?

She does have tattoos, including a rose tattoo on the left side of her neck.

Family:

Blue — 5. He’s Tessa’s pet winter wolf. He’s intelligent and cunning. He was orphaned by a hunter as a pup before Tessa found and adopted him. Her love and care led to him to be a big teddy bear of a wolf. He's back in Bryn Shander.

Edgard Chastain — 60. Edgard is Tessa’s father and the one who led the entire family down the path of crime. He’s a charismatic guy, but he has his struggles and insecurities. He is plagued by self-loathing and depression, often acting on his worse impulses.

He wants to be liked, but he also wants to be feared as a criminal, putting him in conflict with himself. He can be selfish and self-serving, leading him to betray his loved ones or hurt them deeply. He’s corrupted his relationships with his ex-wife and children over the years. Tessa is desperate to believe he'll change.

Sibyl Lisette Chastain — 60. Sibyl is Edgard’s ex-wife and the mother of Tessa and her brothers. After Edgard cheated on her, she left him. It’s clear Tessa takes after her mother. Sibyl is cheerful, optimistic, and excited to live life. She’s heartbroken when her children repeat Edgard’s mistakes and she can’t stop it from happening.

She had dreams of becoming a writer, but she fell in love with Edgard when they were both 17. Within months of dating, Sibyl became pregnant. After that, Sibyl became a criminal, losing the ability to pursue her dream career. She continues to write even if she never shares it with anyone.

Conrad Chastain — 40. He’s the eldest Chastain child. He has a somewhat normal life. While he does work in the black market, he has a loving wife and two children. He’s a loving father, calm, and level-headed, but he has a very dad sense of humor.

Flynn Chastain — 38. Flynn is the flirtatious brother and he has several lovers. It’s also likely he has bastard children out in the world he’s never met.

Gavin Chastain — 37. He’s intelligent, but irresponsible and self-sabotaging. He fears being rejected and failing, so he engages in self-destructive behavior.

Emile Chastain — 36. He’s the quiet Chastain child. He’s not happy with his lot in life, but he doesn’t complain. He always wants to do the right thing, but he’s often scared to say anything that goes “against the family.”

Leander Chastain — 35. He’s Tessa’s twin. He and Tessa grew apart as they became adults. He’s a bard rogue who loves music. Leander is repeating a lot of his father’s mistakes, even if he thinks of himself as better than Edgard. He’s a great thief, but he’s been burning his own bridges and fighting his own demons. He’s a charismatic social butterfly. He hides his demons from Tessa and the rest of his family.

Marta Chastain — 39. She’s Conrad’s loving and doting wife. She works a normal job, keeping the family with one foot in respectable society. She’s a teacher and hides the fact she’s married to a criminal.

Tem Chastain — 11. Tem is Conrad and Marta’s oldest child. He’s a silly and goofy kid who has no idea his father is a thief.

Kara Chastain — 8. Kara is Conrad and Marta’s youngest. She’s a sweet little girl with a mischievous streak.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #baldurs gate tav #tav bg3 #tav x gale #tav oc #baldurs gate 3 #tav baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 tav #bg3 oc #dnd oc #dnd character

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cower-before-power · 7 months

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Sweet Tooth

Summary: Needing a break from the absolute drag that is your bitchy cousin's wedding, you slip outside for some air. Luckily for you, a cute waiter and a stolen bottle of champagne are ready and waiting to sweeten your night considerably.

Pairing: Modern AU Connie Springer x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,684

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, drinking at work, dub-con (because Reader and Connie are tipsy), implied/referenced sexual content (including unprotected sex, outdoor sex, sex with someone you barely know, oral sex/cum eating), horrible horrible sex puns involving food, rusty writing.

A/N: HEY LOOK MA, I WROTE SOMETHING!! I started this fic ages ago, but only had the motivation to finish it recently thanks to joining The Coffee Corner discord server. This is for their Slice of Life collab, I hope you enjoy some funny Modern AU adult Connie, thank you for reading, likes and (especially) reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️.

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You breathe a sigh of relief as you slip outside into the refreshing evening air. The thumping of music and sounds of people talking dull as the door clicks shut behind you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like weddings. It was just that you didn’t like this wedding.

Your cousin had always been a spoiled brat, a pouty, whiney thing that threw tantrums whenever something didn’t exactly go her way. They two of you had never gotten along, and you knew your parents did not exactly like that side of the family. But they wanted to avoid being reamed out for the next 20 years, so when the invitations arrived, your dad checked off “Yes” with a what could only be described as a world-weary sigh.

You knew she didn’t actually want you there. It was a chance to show off, to show how wealthy her poor (and dumb) husband was and how lavish of a wedding she could throw. If there was one thing that stayed constant, it was her need to always be the center of attention.

“Need a light?”

You whirl around, hand clutching your chest as you come face to face with bright eyes and a toothy grin. Your heart does a strange ga-lump that has nothing to do with being startled; it’s him.

The guy you’ve had your eye on all night, one of the only bright spots in this whole wretched affair. You’ve dubbed him Cute Waiter in your mind, his boyishly charming good looks and happy-go-lucky demeanor like a beam of sunshine through the gloom. He wasn’t assigned to your table, sadly, and you’d been wondering how you would be able to strike up a conversation with him.

Seems like something good may be coming out of this night after all.

“I-I don’t smoke,” you shake your head, frantically trying to reclaim a tiny bit of composure. “Just out for some fresh air.”

“Oh, my bad,” he says cheerfully, stowing the lighter he’d been holding out back into his uniform pocket. “It is kind of stuffy in there, isn’t it?”

You sigh in agreement. “And loud. And mentally exhausting. If my cousin rubs it in my face one more time that she’s married and I’m still “hopelessly inept” at finding love, I’m not responsible for what will happen next.”

Cute Waiter laughs, loud and jolly like he’s auditioning for the role of Santa in a school play. It’s surprisingly adorable. “Yeah, because love is totally in the air tonight.”

You giggle at his words. “She claims it’s love, but trust me; their marriage came to be because of money and the fact my dear cousin does not take no for an answer.”

Cute Waiter leans against the wall of the venue, hands tucked into his pockets as he continues to flash that mega-watt grin. “Yeah, I got the vibe. Wanna make bets about how awkward their night’s gonna be later?”

You snort. “I’m certain she’s just been laying back and thinking of platinum credit cards and shopping sprees for the last two years, and that poor bastard has no idea. He’ll probably be convinced it’s a night of romance while she’s planning the layout of their new mansion in her head.”

Cute Waiter shakes his head, chuckling. “Damn, are we sure they have a chance? Maybe I’ll be serving food at their divorce party. Or his funeral after she murders him for the dough.”

Your face hurts from how much you’re smiling. “Is it bad to say I hope so? The food is very good.”

“Niccolo is quite the whiz in the kitchen,” Cute Waiter agrees genially. “You can’t get much better around here.”

Almost in slow motion, you see your opening being laid out before you. Bolstered no doubt by the two glasses of wine at dinner, and encouraged by the fact he was just so cute and funny, you make your move.

“Of course, I also hope it would mean I’d see a certain man I’ve dubbed Cute Waiter again.”

The man in front of you blinks, eyebrows raising as his face morphs into an strange expression of surprise and amusement. “Cute Waiter, you say?”

“Yes,” you nod, determined to see this through now that it’s underway. “I’ve been wondering how I could get a chance to talk with him all night, but he’s been very busy.” You feel your face warming under his hazel stare. “Imagine my delight to find he’s not only cheerful and good looking, but extremely funny and easy to talk to as well.”

Cute Waiter’s cheeks bloom a lovely shade of pink. “That’s-wow. The prettiest girl at this wedding just-do you really-I mean, thank you,” he stutters out, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Connie.”

You duck your head shyly at his compliment, your own name murmured softly as you try to calm your thrumming heart. “Hello, Connie.” You stick out your hand out, heat now racing down your neck as you inwardly cringe at your own awkwardness.

Connie grins, taking your proffered hand in a gentle grip. You try not to think of how warm his hand is as his fingers curl around yours. “I think I liked Cute Waiter better.”

You could probably cook an egg on your face at this point. “Well, it’s still a true sentiment anyways.”

Connie chuckles. “You’re good for my ego.” His gaze drops to your still clasped hands. You stammer out an apology, attempting to snatch your misbehaving limb back, but to your surprise (and excitement), he grips your hand tighter.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Your eyes widen as your heart gives an excited thump. “What? Right now?”

Connie nods, eagerness rolling off him in waves. “I’m thinking you, me, and that massive bottle of expensive champagne I saw on the gift table deserve to get to know each other a little bit better. Preferably away from the god-awful vibes this place is giving off.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, but there’s no denying the thrum of excitement beneath your skin.

“You wanna skip out of work, steal someone else’s booze and run off with a girl you’ve known for all of 10 minutes?”

Connie grins. “If that girl is you, then hell yes.”

Laughter bubbles up from your chest like fizz in a soda can. “Then lead the way, Cute Waiter.”

And that’s how you find yourself down by the lake, sprawled out on a stolen tablecloth, tipsy giggles escaping the both of you as the champagne bottle is passed between you. Your animated chatter fills the twilight hour, talking about anything and everything. Connie is easy to talk to, open and free with what feels like a genuine interest in what you have to say. It’s nice. You don’t want it to end.

“This stuff is horrible,” Connie hiccups, shaking his head as he hands you the bottle. “Why do rich people have such garbage taste in alcohol?”

“I like it,” you grab the bottle from him, hugging it to your chest as if it was a beloved teddy bear. “It tastes like sunlight in a bottle. Maybe I’ll serve it at my wedding. If I ever get one.”

“You will,” Connie states matter-of-factly. “You’re super smart, pretty, funny, and nice. The only thing that sucks about you is your choice of drink. This shit is worse than pond water.”

You gasp in mock offense, your stomach doing somersaults at his compliments. “Okay, you are not invited to my hypothetical wedding, Mr. Meanie! How dare you insult the nectar of the gods?”

“Nectar- sweet mother of mercy,” Connie snorts, wrinkling his nose as you take another sip. “You’re too drunk to think straight, next thing you know you’ll be telling me you loved that horrible monstrosity your dear cousin calls a wedding dress.”

“I’m not drunk,” you giggle, “just a little tipsy. And no way am I ever wearing a dress like that. She looked like an over frosted cupcake-and that’s being nice.”

“Mmmmm cupcakes,” Connie sighs, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “Damn it, should’ve nicked some food, I’m hungry now.”

“Oh! I can help, one sec,” You wiggle around so you can reach your handbag, rummaging around until you find what you’re looking for. “Tada! Emergency Twinkies. I stashed some in case the food here was garbage, thankfully it wasn’t at all but you never can be too careful.” You nod sagely at the boy beside you.

“Shit, are you an angel?” Connie breaths, eyes going big and dopey as he takes the proffered treats. “Twinkies? A bunch of Twinkies in your bag. Just in case.”

“I always carry one at least,” you feel your heart going all gooey at his starry-eyed amazement. “You never know when you’re going to need a snack.”

Connie groans, low and deep in his throat, and you squirm at the sudden heat pricking at you. “You are literally the most fucking perfect girl. I am so glad I picked up this shift.”

“I’m glad I came too,” your smile is threatening to break your face in half, but you just can’t help it. There’s just something about Connie that makes you feel warm and blissful, like the first sip of perfectly prepared coffee as it bursts on your tongue.

You stare at each other, silly grins and hazy eyes and all the hope of youthful infatuation.

You don’t know who moves first.

What you do know, is that Connie kisses like he laughs; full, deep and with purpose. His mouth is warm and sweet with lingering champagne, and you whine as he cups the back of your neck to push you even closer to him.

Maybe it’s the buzz of the alcohol, or the sweet song of the crickets, or the thudding of your heart when Connie licks into your mouth like he’s going die if he doesn’t taste every inch. It could be the thrill of being desired, the delicate bloom of two young hearts connecting as if you were in some sort of sappy fairytale. You don’t really know, nor do you really care.

But you let Connie lay you down on the tablecloth, let him ruck your fancy dress up, let him touch you until you’re trembling like the leaves in the warm spring breeze.

“This ok?” He’s got one hand beside your head, the other stroking your inner thigh gently. “I uh-this wasn’t my intention, not right away anyways, but like, you’re so fucking cool and hot and I really really like you and-”

“Yes, ohmygosh yes,” you interrupt his rambling, clutching at his shoulders desperately. “I’m good. Fantastic. Wonderful. And very horny, so please hurry up.”

Connie huffs a laugh, leaning down to kiss you as you help him free himself from the confines of his pants. After that, only the soft light of the nearly set sun is the witness to your bodies meeting, your groans and sighs carried away on the gentle summer breeze as you let yourself drown in pleasure.

When you’re both spent you lay beside each other, panting and grinning as your heartbeats slowly return to normal. You feel floaty, fizzy with satisfaction, like you’ve downed that whole damn bottle of champagne in one gulp. You can’t remember the last time you felt so good at the hands of another, and you can feel yourself itching to grab the man beside you and have him do it again.

Suddenly, a thought niggles it’s way into your fuzzy brain, and you snicker loudly.

“I hope that’s not in response to my performance,” Connie reaches over to pinch your cheek affectionately.

“No,” you titter tipsily, swatting his hand away. “I was just thinking….now I’m a Twinkie.”

Connie scrunches his eyebrows. “What?”

A snort leaves you. “I’m a Twinkie….because now I’m filled with cream.”

You dissolve into fits of giggles as his mouth drops open in surprise.

“Ugh, no fair!! You can’t make jokes like that!” Connie digs his fingers into your ribs, grinning as you shriek in surprise. “Not unless you want me to fall in love with you!”

You squirm away from his questing fingers. “Slow your roll there, cowboy,” you warn, but your heart is light and your skin is tingling. “At least take me on a date first!”

“I suppose,” Connie sighs dramatically. “But you better reign in that charm! One more stashed snack or raunchy joke and you might never get rid of me.”

The thought isn’t unpleasant. “You better not come home with me and look inside my bedside drawer then.”

“Oh?” Connie waggles his brows suggestively. “Whatcha got in there, hmmm? Some Skittles and flavoured lube? Fuzzy Peaches and fuzzy handcuffs? Edible candy panties? Please say edible candy panties.”

You laugh as you sit up, feeling for your bag. “Why don’t you come over after work and see? Assuming you still have a job, that is. I don’t think you’re supposed to drink and have sex on the clock.” You shimmy in triumph as you fish out your phone. “Here, give me your number, Cute Waiter Who Is Also Pretty Good At Sex.”

Connie smirks, grabbing your phone as he sits and pulls his own out of his pocket. You take it eagerly. “Don’t worry, I’m still employed. Niccolo owes me like a million favors, considering I’m the reason he and his fiancé, aka my best friend, are even together. That’s why I even have this job.” He winks, handing your phone back. “Ah, the joys of nepotism.”

“Sexy,” you giggle as you swap phones. You smile when you see what he’s saved his contact as: Cute Waiter Who Is Also Pretty Good At Sex. Part of you feels a sense of disbelief; did you really just hook up with a hot, sweet, funny guy at your cousin’s wedding? And now you’re getting his phone number? After all the shit you got tonight for being the lonely single loser?

Take that, you frigid bitch.

Connie looks at his phone. He groans loudly as he reads what you’ve typed in. “You saved yourself as Twinkie ❤? Damn, woman! I’m never gonna be able to eat those delectable golden treats without popping a stiffy now. I’m rising to half mast right now just looking at this.”

You reach over and toss him the forgotten package, rolling your eyes playfully as it smacks him in face. “Down, boy. Eat your treat like you originally planned.”

Connie tosses the snack away, and you shiver as a hungry look flits across his genial face. “Yeah, these are not gonna cut it anymore. I wanna stuff my face with a different Twinkie now.”

Your insides twist violently, molten heat trickling down your spine at the implication of his words.

“Ohmygosh,” you groan, already whipping your phone back out to text your parents you’re heading home. “Fuck the rest of this, we’re going to my place. Now.”

Connie pumps his fist in the air as he jumps to his feet. “Hell yes! Do I have a horseshoe up my ass today or what?” He makes a show of trying to look behind himself, as if his behind might actually be sporting one.

Your face feels like it will break in two from the force of your smile. “Just order us a damn Uber, you goof.”

Connie salutes and begins typing rapidly on his phone. You stand, adjusting yourself to contain the mess that’s currently trying to drip down your legs. “Damn. Should have grabbed napkins along with that booze. I’m leaking like a broken facet over here.”

Connie’s phone is already in his pocket, and your heart thumps happily at the warmth of his hand as it slides into your own.

“I’m all the cleanup you need, babe,” he winks, tugging you gently into his chest. You look up at him, all smiles and flushed cheeks, mischief dancing in his adoring gaze. You don't know if you've ever felt so alive, so free, so ready for wherever he takes you.

“After all," he lowers his mouth to brush teasingly against yours, "the cream is the best part of a Twinkie.”

#connie springer #connie springer x reader #connie springer x you #attack on titan fic #attack on titan imagine #shingeki no kyojin fic #shingeki no kyojin imagine #slice of life collab #my writing

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innytoes · 1 month

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From the subconscious that brought you the Quiet AU, it's time for Inny's Brain Comes Up With Another 100k fic she's never going to write while she's dreaming.

Okay so it's the Post Apocalypse. The apocalypse happened a few years ago, there was a horrible plague that makes you bleed from your eyes and maybe some other things, a lot of humanity was wiped out, chaos, destruction, blabla.

We start with Our Heroes travelling on foot. Luke is telling them this area seems familiar, and Alex and Reggie realise they're near where Bobby's family had a cabin. They decide to veer off because Alex remembers where Bobby hid the emergency key. Not that they haven't done their fare share of breaking and entering, but it would be nice to, you know, not have to.

Also maybe they want to see if Bobby is there. Because even though they split with a lot of bad blood between them over some stolen songs, the apocalypse makes you miss old friends.

Julie and Willie are like: um excuse me that is not a cabin that is a Log Mansion. It's three fucking stories. (It also had the exact layout as my grandmother's old house, because this is my brain, which is funny because my grandmother's house was very much not a log cabin).

And then SHOCK AND GASP Bobby comes out. He has the Trevor Wilson Beard and Man Bun and is just... staring like he's seen three ghosts... and two random people he doesn't know, I guess.

There is a big sappy reunion and a big talk and apology and blabla of course they can stay. There's more cabins around the place and they've made themselves a little farming community. They trade with the other little the towns in the area, but they haven't heard much from the bigger city in the while.

"Um yeah, maybe... maybe don't go to the city," Luke says. Reggie is very pale. Willie mutters about how there was plenty of stuff that could still be looted (as long as you don't mind all the dead bodies is left unsaid).

They settle in at Bobby's house and become part of the community, finding jobs. Willie does indeed go with some of the more brave individuals to the city to search for supplies. The whole community has like one working truck because gas is hard to find these days.

Some traveling trader comes by and he's basically on a giant sled on wheels pulled by huskies and predictably Reggie loses his mind and gets to play with the doggies.

There comes a night when Reggie can't sleep, so he's the only one awake to hear the car. Two cars. A group of four with two cars is bound to mean trouble, so he wakes everyone up because there's a high chance there's raiders.

The people are breaking in and Reggie goes downstairs to greet/distract them, playing the clueless guy, welcoming them and being like 'oh hey are you lost do you need help? We're looking for a bartender if you need a job' and basically being in the way and these four people are just so confused because they broke into his house and he's so cheerful about it.

One of them was injured and Reggie more seriously offers the first aid kit and just when they were about to be like 'fuck it let's just murder him and raid the place', where comes Julie and Luke with the shot guns. Meanwhile Alex, Willie, and Bobby were checking out their cars and alerting the neighbours about trouble and OH SHIT ONE OF THEM IS BLEEDING FROM THE EYES HE'S INFECTED.

Cue fuzzy chaotic time jump because I woke up with a dry mouth lol.

For some reason Bobby disappeared from the dream after this so maybe poor Bobbers got shot in the show down with the raiders. Or got hit by the car of the other three fleeing, leaving behind their infected friend.

The gang stays in Bobby's house, though, and slowly, Juke and Willex drift together. When they were travelling, they usually all slept together, but now...

Reggie, who is still grieving Bobby, and maybe blaming himself because he wasn't good enough at distracting the raiders, sees the other two couples drift together and decides to stay out of their way. He can't sleep anyway, since he was the only one awake to catch the raiders in the first place.

So he starts sleeping less, and less, spending less time with his friends because he wanted them to have time together... Pining because he's secretly a little in love with all of them, but they clearly don't want him.

Until he was suuuper stoked because he found a puppy. It was so cute, and he wants to show his friends, and they're so freaked out because Reggie, there is no puppy...

Turns out Reggie was hallucinating from lack of sleep, and he's so confused because he's CLEARLY HOLDING A PUPPY WHAT DO YOU MEAN and then the whole thing kind of comes out and not only is Reggie heartbroken when the hallucination shatters and vanishes, but he also confesses how he's in love them with but they clearly chose their partners and not him.

And both Juke and Willex are like: we've missed you, doofus, we love you, we didn't want to make you chose between us, we were scared you were mad at us for both flirting with you.

And they all live as happily ever after as you can in the post-apocalypse.

#julie and the phantoms #okay I woke up after the puppy part but I wrote myself a happy ending #it was so surreal because the dream pov kept switching between BEING Reggie and holding the puppy and feeling it #and 'outside shots' of him clearly not holding anything in his hands #and it only shattered when Luke said 'are you sure it's not a beagle' and the puppy was suddenly a beagle #and then Reggie's brain caught up with him #I wrote a thing #or my brain wrote a dream I guess #AUs are awesome #what do I even name this one #the post apocalypse plague au #there was probably more but this is all I could remember after a full day of work and such #my brain: ah yes I see you're too tired to write do you want a giant new au? it has reggie and puppies #reggiexeveryone is the best pairing #willex #juliexluke

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adamstape · 10 months

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#AdamFaulknerStanheight

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❛ ⠀𝒢𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙 ⠀ ݁ ⠀.⠀ ⌛︎

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› ⠀birthname⠀:⠀adam

› ⠀last name⠀:⠀faulkner-stanheight

› ⠀age⠀:⠀20

› ⠀pronouns⠀:⠀he / him

› ⠀nicknames⠀:⠀ad’s ,⠀(give him some!)

› ⠀title⠀:⠀mr

› ⠀gender⠀:⠀male

› ⠀species⠀:⠀human

› ⠀language⠀:⠀english

› ⠀nationality⠀:⠀american

› ⠀ethnicity⠀:⠀caucasian

› ⠀sexuality⠀:⠀bisexual

› ⠀location⠀:⠀new jersey usa

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❛ ⠀𝒫𝘩𝑦𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 ⠀ ݁ ⠀.⠀ ⌛︎

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› ⠀height⠀:⠀5'7' ft

› ⠀complexion⠀:⠀fair skin

› ⠀physique⠀:⠀average build

› ⠀eye colour⠀:⠀green

› ⠀hair colour⠀:⠀mousy brown

› ⠀physical health⠀:⠀smoker

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marks / features⠀:⠀ self-harm scars ,

shoulder bullet scar

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❛ ⠀ 𝒫𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 ⠀ ݁ ⠀.⠀ ⌛︎

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› ⠀myers brigg⠀:⠀logician INTP

› ⠀morality⠀:⠀true neutral

› ⠀enneagram⠀:⠀4

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+⠀ traits⠀:⠀funny ,⠀sweet ,⠀goofy ,

romantic

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–⠀ traits⠀:⠀apathetic ,⠀sarcastic ,

asshole ,⠀angry ,⠀lazy

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Adam is a sarcastic, sweet, freelance photographer who on some occasions can come across as a bit of an asshole. He is a carefree young man who was a victim of the 'Jigsaw Killer,' being described by Jigsaw as 'a strange mix of someone angry yet apathetic, but mostly just pathetic.' Despite Adam's sassy personality and sarcastic self-deprecating humour, there is an emotional side to him. He has a good heart despite his questionable decision-making some of the time. Presumably, Adam’s egoism is a reason for the lacking contact with his family. He can be arrogant and often reacts to questions and uncomfortable situations by being mockingly sarcastic and making provocative jokes. Adam, however, is capable of genuine empathy and compassion for others which was proved during his time in the 'Bathroom Trap.' He appears to have a very beautiful smile which only adds to his attractive appearance. Also living by himself in what he likes to call his 'shithole apartment,' he makes a substandard living off his photography work.

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❛ ⠀𝒮𝑘𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑠 ⠀ ݁ ⠀.⠀ ⌛︎

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› ⠀education⠀:⠀poor

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occupation⠀:⠀Adam is a freelance photographer who makes a living by observing and photographing other people for money. One of his clients was former homicide detective David Tapp, he hired and paid Adam $200 per night to observe a renowned oncologist, Dr. Lawrence Gordon, as Tapp suspected him of being the wanted serial killer, Jigsaw. Adam followed Lawrence for several days and took numerous photos of him.

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❛ ⠀𝑅𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 ⠀ ݁ ⠀.⠀ ⌛︎

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father⠀:⠀Adam never had a good nor healthy relationship with his father as he was dismissive, unpresent and in many forms abusive throughout Adam’s life. This led to being one of the reasons why Adam’s anger issues developed and why he left home at a young age.

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mother⠀:⠀When Adam left home, she would ring his house phone everyday and leave voicemails to check in on him. She loves Adam dearly and wants to be there for her son, but struggles as Adam finds it hard to let her in.

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siblings⠀:⠀Adam’s twin brother is David from 'Saw 0.5,' Adam and David have a close relationship.

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ships⠀:⠀Depends, but his main is Dr. Lawrence Gordon.

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friends & enemies⠀:⠀Scott Tibbs was / is Adam’s best friend who was quick to turn into his frenemy, they have a toxic relationship as Scott uses Adam for his photography skills and openly treats him like shit. However, Amanda Young is a good friend of his!

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› ⠀spouse⠀:⠀none

› ⠀off spring⠀:⠀none

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❛ ⠀ 𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑆𝑡𝑦𝑙𝑒 ⠀ ݁ ⠀.⠀ ⌛︎

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Adam wears t-shirts, especially band ones, baggy jeans, checkered flannel shirts, shirt jackets, converse, and leather jackets. He falls into the emo, grunge, ’90s / early 2000s and punk styles.

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❛ ⠀𝑀𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑜𝑢𝑠 ⠀ ݁ ⠀.⠀ ⌛︎

⠀

› ⠀universe⠀:⠀saw

› ⠀faceclaim⠀:⠀leigh whannel

› ⠀penned by⠀:⠀ava⠀ఌ

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❝ ⠀ 𝔄𝗗𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝔑𝗢𝗧𝗘⠀ ᝰ✍︎

please note that this information can change depending on the roleplay, story etc. inspo for this edit came from reluctantrenegades on instagram !

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➽ ˙ ∗ ⠀follow @adamstape for more⠀!

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🌠 ┊ universe⠀:⠀saw

🎨 ┊ caption layout⠀:⠀taratellr on

⠀ ⠀⠀instagram

🎶 ┊ audio⠀:⠀whore4saw on instagram

🎞️ ┊ media⠀:⠀saw behind the scenes

✍🏻 ┊ edit⠀:⠀mine

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↯⠀ 🅣🅐🅖🅢

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#saw #saw rp #adam saw #saw adam #adam stanheight #saw edit #saw roleplay #horror rp #horror roleplay #leigh whannell #biography #adam faulkner #adam faulkner stanheight edit #adam stanheight edit #roleplay #rp #adam faulkner stanheight #saw movies #saw franchise

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rilin · 2 months

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Hello obscure JoCo fans!

As promised in this post, I'll be sharing a couple WIPS for some of my Jonathan Coulton Tarot Card project! :D

I've currently got about 10 wips done of the 22 in the whole major arcana, so I'm pretty stoked about that!! I'll share a couple of them here for starters! (I also don't want to reveal the layout I've designed for the cards yet either as it's all still a WIP - I'm not a graphic designer at heart, so it's been a struggle, but I think it's more or less there! :O) Tarot meanings below are pulled from BiddyTarot! -------

The Fool UPRIGHT: Beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit

REVERSED: Holding back, recklessness, risk-taking Song Choice: Wake Up (Solid State)

The image is referenced from the Solid State graphic novel and shows a view from the 'safe' zone, looking out onto the barren but free landscape. The album as a whole details a semi-hopeless future where technology and social media values have dominated, with both the two protagonists learning to break free in their own ways. The values of The Fool card definitely hold especially true to the protag in the song Wake Up - Future Bob has such a strong sense of innocent curiosity about what lies beyond the walls IMHO! -------

The Hermit UPRIGHT: Soul-searching, introspection, being alone, inner guidance

REVERSED: Isolation, loneliness, withdrawal Song Choice: I Crush Everything Now if ever there were a JoCo song choice about loneliness and withdrawl, it'd be about the poor Giant Squid. He desperately wants to touch and admire the boats that float above him but keeps destroying them, so he's learning to let go and hold back, even though it hurts. Poor guy! I tried to incorporate some of the classic lantern theming in the OG cards with the boat light and Mr Squids giant yellow eye too, as well as of course the moon, which seems to crop up in a good many tarot.

-------

Death

UPRIGHT: Endings, change, transformation, transition

REVERSED: Resistance to change, personal transformation, inner purging Song Choice: Blue Sunny Day Oh I can't tell you how much I love this song, tarot or no tarot, lol. I went through a GOOD number of choices for settling on BSD! (Spoilers, one was 'Still Alive' because it fit well and it was funny in an ironic way, but I ended up using that for a different card!) The themes fit so perfectly - the song is about a lonely vampire who is living in the past still, but ultimately the world ends up being too much for him and he has one final look at a beautiful blue sunny day... I also had a really strong visual idea in my head for it that I think I managed to get out okay in the WIP! It doesn't really include many of the OG tarot design motifs, but I find both the sun and moon to be heavily incorporated in a lot of em. ----- I'm looking forward to sharing more WIPs soon, and sharing my thoughts on my choices! :O

#joco #jonathan coulton #JoCoTarot #personal #my art

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gamebunny-advance · 25 days

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Core Memory Unlocked

So, for some reason, I suddenly remembered this toy I used to have as a kid: it was an interactive space tablet. You would press buttons on it, and it would light up and give you planet facts and stuff.

I googled it to try and find the exact one I had, but it turns out there are several different versions of this thing. At first, I thought my memory was faulty because I distinctly remembered it being silver and having buttons on the side, while most of the ones I was finding were blue and/or had their buttons at the bottom.

Eventually, I was able to find the exact one I had on eBay, but I can't find any video footage of this particular model.

(Source)

I wanted video footage so I could compare the voice clips between this one and the ones I found before it, because I found that all the others used the same voice clips, even if they were different models, so I'm wondering if mine was the same. I recall this (near) exact quote being in it: "If Saturn could fit in a swimming pool, it would float."

But none of the videos I've found have had that line in it. Saturn was my favorite planet at the time, so I remember that voice line very distinctly.

youtube

I guess this sounds a little familiar, but I just can't 100% confirm it without hearing that specific quote.

From my meager search efforts, it doesn't seem like these other ones have any specific branding while the one I had was licensed(?) by the Smithsonian, so I don't know if these other ones are "knock-offs" that are using the same voice clips/programming, or if mine was somehow unique.

I'm leaning on the former, since the voice is similar enough to my memory that I can blame any discrepancies on either the video quality or just poor memory. But even though the button layouts are almost identical, mine had a "C" button for the quiz game, and none of the other versions I've found have had a third answer button. If the voices/programming are really the same, would they really go through the trouble of cutting any questions/answers that used the C button? Then again, these other ones that I've found do have a "help" button that mine doesn't have, so it's possible that this is their "C button" and mine just went unlabeled.

Mid-post update, but I did find another version of this thing that actually uses the exact same mold as the one I had, but has different branding/colors.

(Source)

It apparently has the same manufacturer (Scientific Toys) as what I was calling the "knock-off" versions, so this seems like conclusive evidence that they're probably all the same on the inside and mine just had that premium branding~ Though, from what I can tell, the Smithsonian version has a different manufacturer (Natural Science Industries), and I've yet to confirm if they're related somehow.

I was able to find that Scientific Toys still makes a version of this space tablet, but with yet another different layout and the omission of Pluto. I couldn't tell ya if the voice samples are the same though, XP. I also confirmed that NSI is still partnered with the Smithsonian and making other branded products, so I think that they are separate entities, but I couldn't say definitively who ripped off who yet. Or maybe even that there's a 3rd actor that I just don't know about.

I don't need the answers that badly, but this was a slightly amusing rabbit hole that I went through~

Anyway, the actual point of this post was that in my memory, the voice was actually pretty similar to DJSS and I thought that was kinda funny.

I guess the video voice is close enough, just more nasally~

#gbunny writes #gbunny collects #kinda #i don't remember what happened to mine #it might have finally broken because i played with it so much #i do remember it having some gunk on it at some point #or maybe my parents hid it also because i played with it so much.#it was like my favorite thing in the world for a while #i also blame this thing for my fascination with disembodied/ mechanically stilted/filtered voices #much in the same way that i blame PJ Sam 3 for my fascination with food based characters #it was all buried there in my subconscious

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