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#13 reasons why wallpaper

ramilarc · 1 year

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13 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓼 why

#13 reasons why #hannah baker #wallpaper #clay jensen #take me back to the night we met #dylan minnette #katherine langford

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agusstina975 · 10 months

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#13 reasons why #wallpaper #hannah baker #clay jensen

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oceane4loveu · 6 months

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☾𝕄𝕆𝕆ℕ𝕃𝕀𝔾ℍ𝕋 BEAUTY ☾: 1 week to glow up

I really need a quick and simple glow up because I'm starting my job soon so I created a program to glow up in 1 week and really get to know myself and improve myself physically and mentally. You can do this program in 2 weeks or more if you want.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚day 1: lunar preparation

★shadow work: It’s time to work on yourself, answer their questions to get to know yourself better.

1. What did my childhood need most?

2. What am I avoiding?

3. What am I addicted to?

4. What secrets am I hiding and why?

5. Am I honest with myself and others?

6. What are my biggest misconceptions about myself?

7. What are my biggest fears?

8. What should I give up?

9. Am I a victim of trauma? Have I done enough to heal?

10. What do I need to forgive myself for?

11. What lessons do I still need to learn?

12. What do I want most in this life?

13. What are the first signs you notice and know that your mental health is deteriorating?

14. Do I try to hide parts of myself from others? Why ?

15. What was I like when I was a child?

16. What's the worst way someone could describe you?

★moodboard: makes a Moodboard that reflects your aspirations and your inspirations that you can look at every morning; you can put it as a wallpaper or hang it on the wall.

★ Do a major cleaning: tidy your room, delete numbers, sort through your phone, sort through your series and films, social media and my playlist, cut off toxic people.

★make a list of all your goals, choose 4 big goals in your life and separate them into smaller goals to make them easier to achieve.

★create a morning and night routine: you can copy that of someone who inspires you or simply create your own.

★do 1 hour of sport per day

* ੈ✩‧₊˚day2:inner radiance

★ start Journaling: write down your thoughts, your emotions, your thoughts for the day and also positive affirmations.

★make a list of things you like about yourself

★become softer:

1. When someone calls you, first turn to the person and smile: This helps you to be gentler and more polite towards the person you are talking to and after smiling it gives you the opportunity to speak in a kinder tone.

2. think before you speak: this is very important when learning to speak softer because it gives you time to pay attention to the tone of your voice and also be careful with the things you say.

3. Avoid yelling at others out of frustration: Yelling is the most important thing you should avoid when trying to speak softer. When you're frustrated or going through a tough time, try doing something you enjoy to calm yourself down like music, drawing, etc. instead of taking it out on others. if someone tries to make you angry, politely tell them to stop and don't let your anger control you.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚day3:educational brilliance

-listen to a podcast: I only listen to podcasts in French but if you don't like listening to podcasts you can watch videos from tam kaur, thewizardliz, simonesquared and more

-read a book: I recommend atomic habit, ikigai, the why cafe, the other books that I read are in French.

-learn a new language: on YouTube there are plenty of videos that you can find on the language of your choice.

-learn another skill: I chose to improve my computer skills but you can choose any skill it can be drawing, cooking whatever you want.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚day4:celestial radiance

-work on self-love

-work on self-esteem

* ੈ✩‧₊˚day5:lunar dream

-spa day at home

-meditation

-listen to your favorite music

-watch your favorite series or films

* ੈ✩‧₊˚day6: lunar flight

-find your ikigai: that is to say your reason for being, explore your passions, your values and your talents to really find what motivates you here is an example:

-Black Swan mindset: the Black Swan mindset is about knowing your value and not letting others tell you your value, it is a mindset of trust and knowledge of your value.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚day7:moonlight beauty

become more feminine

1-have good posture: gives you more elegance, you seem taller and more confident.

2-smell good have a characteristic scent: could remind someone of you, smell good shows that you care about your hygiene.

3-Getting Your Nails Done: Getting your nails done could make you look confident and well-groomed.

4-style your hair: hair is a key point of your appearance and a good hairstyle could automatically make you even more beautiful.

5-wear jewelry: simple jewelry can enhance your outfit a lot and bring out your features.

things to do every day

☆ Workout

☆ Learn a new skill

☆ Listen to subliminals

☆ Meditate

☆ Read a book

☆ Do Journaling

☆ Listen to Podcasts

I'm going to start tomorrow and to stay organized and always have an idea of what I have to do I created a simple Notion if you want it's right here જ⁀➴

𝕄𝕆𝕆ℕ𝕃𝕀𝔾ℍ𝕋 BEAUTY

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eddies-house · 8 months

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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Five - Cold Eggs

W/C: 6K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety attack, mentions of drinking

Some early morning honesty on the rocks. Eddie is fucked. In every sense other than literal.

A/N: I'm getting giddy over these two please tell me yall feel the same

Masterlist

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The Munson bachelor pad wasn’t as boyish and messy as you initially thought. You were sober enough to make that observation. It was cozy, much like your own home and was around the same size. The kitchen was probably the messiest part of it however you didn’t get a peek at the bedroom which you assumed could also be very disheveled. There were cereal boxes left open on the counter, Cocoa Pebbles being the one that caught your eye along with a neglected box of Rice Krispies that laid on its side.

A few too many pots and pans cluttered the stove top and some empty cans of soup and Spaghettios were left to collect dust near the sink. His refrigerator held a collection of magnets, some being letters from the alphabet, although quite a few were missing, and others were ads from a pizza place and a few fruits and vegetables with cartoony faces. Among the mess on the counters, you also noted a few empty liters of soda and some crushed beer cans. Budweiser to be specific.

Other than that, the living room you’d been sitting in was tidy. There was a clearly used checkered blanket bunched up on the corner of the couch you’d been occupying for the past several minutes and a few car catalogs littering the coffee table along with a copy of Lord of the Rings, bookmarked with a coupon for ground beef clipped from the local ads. Next to that, an ash tray nearly overflowed.

His wallpaper wasn’t as ugly as yours, which you envied. It was maroon with even darker stripes alternating, creating a dark but homey atmosphere. The wall sconces on the other hand, we’re tacky. They looked more medieval than anything, almost like torches. The light wood floors contrasted with the walls and at your feet was a frayed rug that looked like it had seen better days. Not dirty, just tattered.

In the corner sat an acoustic guitar painted with the words ‘this machine slays dragons’ and next to it was an electric guitar, red with cracks of black. You’d never seen one like it before and it seemed to be well loved from what you’d heard every day, the endless guitar solos bleeding into your eardrums daily. At least he was getting his money's worth out of it.

You continued eyeing your surroundings, taking in the habitat that was Eddie Munson’s home when your gaze lands on a particular object that piqued your interest. It sat atop a shelf near the door, a lonely Garfield mug.

Before you could further examine the mug or even think of reasons as to why it was displayed, if it was even displayed, or perhaps it was abandoned in a hurry out the door, Eddie emerges from the bathroom just off the living room. His curls are now wet ringlets toward the bottom, and instead of wearing your puke, he wears a red sweatshirt that reads ‘Indianapolis, Indiana’ on the front along with some baggy black sweats. Despite his comfy clothes, his face is still decorated with that grouchy frown you’d grown used to. Did this man ever relax his face? His eyebrows were still pinched together either in thought or in irritation.

“I-um, I’ll wash the shirt and um the–the boots.” You stutter, rapidly standing from your perch at the edge of his couch.

Though still a little tipsy, more coherent thoughts flooded your mind. Guilt plagued you as you thought about the blanket of barf that coated his shirt and boots about a half hour earlier, abandoned on the front porch. You were smart enough to avert your gaze when he lifted his shirt off of his torso just to let it wrinkle up on the wood planks to be dealt with later. It wasn’t your fault that you’d caught a glimpse of the tattoos that adorned his body, some kind of dragon if you remember correctly, wound from his waist up to his ribs. The others you didn’t have long enough to distinguish their imagery, though there were several along with what appeared to be some scarring of some kind. You couldn’t be sure, the darkness from the night not allowing you a clear picture along with your hazy mental state.

“Don’t worry about it.” He dismisses while you bashfully sit back down on the edge of the couch.

It was hard to grasp whether he was pissed at you or just at life in general. You would take full responsibility for the vomit but everything before that was on him. Yelling at you over a pile of broken plates seemed far more degrading based on his tone, the way he reprimanded you and painted you as this stupid girl, unable to stand your ground. Maybe it was better that he fired you, you wouldn’t be subject to his obnoxious mood swings where he seemed to take everything out on you when shit hit the fan.

You continued watching Eddie move about his surroundings, taking in how he interacted with his day to day environment. What did he look like fully relaxed? Lounging around, playing his guitar without a care in the world. It was difficult to picture; the image of a moody man with a tensed facial expression the only one you could seem to conjure up every time rather than the vision of him with his feet kicked up on the coffee table, enjoying coffee out of that stupid Garfield mug. You wonder if takes his coffee with cream and sugar. Maybe just cream? Or just sugar? Maybe he drinks it black, that would be the most sensible option if you were going by his grouchy nature.

“Gonna find my keys, then we’ll go back to the bar to get yours.” Eddie decides, shuffling through some items on the kitchen counter.

The irony.

Agreeing with a hum, you allow yourself to lean further into the couch while trailing your finger over the faded plaid pattern, lines of beige crossing over white that temporarily held your focus. The clinking of empty beer cans against the linoleum counter can be heard, and then footsteps into the bedroom just off the living room to your left. Two idiots with misplaced keys under the same roof.

It feels as if the couch begins to mold around you, welcoming you into its springy cushions that otherwise wouldn’t be very comfortable but considering the night you had and the state you were in, you felt like you were on a cloud. Your thoughts drift back to curious visions of Eddie. What did his hair look like first thing in the morning? Was it as wild as you imagined? Curls sticking up every which way, frizzy and matted? Or was it somehow still perfectly messy? Boyishly messy.

Did he take those chunky rings off every night, leaving them on his nightstand until the morning? How many more tattoos did he have? What movies did he watch? What did he do for fun? You suppose plucking at his guitars was a main contender with the way it would constantly invade your ears. Obviously he read, your eyes catching that copy of Lord of the Rings on the coffee table again. Maybe he worked on cars too, based on those car part catalogs.

The image of him working under the hood of a car, all sweaty in some kind of tank top occupied your brain, his usually tense face hard at work with grease smeared along his cheek. And his hands. His hands would be coated in oil and he’d pull a rag out from his back pocket to wipe them off. Then he’d smile and reveal those deep dimples framing his face so perfectly. And then you would–

“Uh, Bambi?”

Eddie’s voice doesn’t do much other than cause you to stir in your sleep, snuggling a pillow while curling into yourself. You were nearly drooling, completely content. He couldn’t help but stare a little longer than necessary before realizing what a creep he was being. Was he supposed to wake you? If he was, he felt wrong doing so with how peaceful you looked. He rolled his eyes but truthfully, he didn’t mind having a guest for the night.

Maybe he’d be able to get some sleep for once.

–

Tossing around as the springs beneath you squeak, your mouth feels like it had previously been filled with sand. Not an ounce of saliva coated your tongue, you were severely dehydrated. You flung the knitted blanket that had rested on top of you off–when did that get there? You don’t remember grabbing a blanket before drifting off into a deep slumber.

This wasn’t even your house.

Collecting your thoughts, you recall that you had been sitting on Eddie Munson’s couch before apparently falling asleep. It was still dark outside, signifying that it had to be early in the morning which meant you’d only slept for maybe two or so hours. A lamp set atop a beat up side table in the corner was the only thing illuminating the room now. Sitting up and stretching, your bones ached from the way they were piled on top of each other in the position you had been sleeping in. Your right arm had pins and needles running up and down it from being cut off from circulation for so long.

The groan that threatened to escape you was held in your throat as you scooted forward, only to find a full glass of water right there on the coffee table. This was beyond embarrassing, this was humiliating. If you could scurry out the door and across the yard back to your place you would, but you were in this predicament due to your own negligence.

With no other options available to you, you gulp down the lukewarm water, just grateful that your tongue was no longer dryer than the Sahara desert. But it still wasn’t enough. Your thirst seemed unquenchable, at this rate you’d need approximately five more glasses. So you stood yourself up, legs shaky and stomach a tiny bit queasy, and wobbled over to the kitchen. You’d have to pace yourself to avoid throwing up a bunch of water since your stomach was so sensitive right now. Food was out of the question but water was a necessity.

Twisting the sink handle with a small screech of the metal, you fill the glass with a shaky and weak arm before sipping away.

Slowly. You remind yourself.

It must have taken around eight minutes to finish that second glass of water, coaching yourself through it the entire time. You grew tired of drinking it but persisted anyway. As you reach to fill a third glass, you’re startled by a figure in the doorway to Eddie’s room, unable to make out any features in the dim lighting. With a yelp, you manage to drop the glass in the sink, it clanking around noisily but thankfully, not breaking.

“Shit, why are you awake?” Eddie asks, hands raised in surrender as he emerges from the shadows.

“Why are you awake?” You counter.

He raises a brow, clearly wide awake. He didn’t even have that gravelly, sleepy voice. Maybe he hadn’t even gone to sleep at all. There was no evidence that his hair was any frizzier than before and his face didn’t have that puffiness to it when you wake up. It’s also possible that he just looked perfect when he woke up but if you’re being honest, no one really woke up perfect.

“I, uh, I was reading.” He admits, scratching the back of his head.

“Oh.”

An awkward silence trickles in, causing you to cross your arms as a means to close in on yourself, steadily backing up until you hit the counter behind you. Eddie maintains eye contact with you as he retrieves his own cup from one of the cabinets, filling it up and chugging it down with ease. You suddenly feel so out of place, like you were supposed to leave but there was nowhere else to go.

“I, um, I’m sorry for…for the puke. A-and for falling asleep. I didn’t mean to intrude.” You tell him honestly.

He only nods.

“I can go…sit on my porch until you go into the bar. And I’ll get my keys and be out of your hair.”

A few drops of water roll down his chin as he continues drinking, the back of his hand coming up to swipe the liquid away. He appears to be lost in thought, eyes concentrated on the counter in front of him where a few rogue Rice Krispies live. You let your legs carry you a few feet away, your goal being the front door until he speaks up again.

“I’m not gonna be responsible if you get eaten out there.” He grumbles.

“Eaten?”

Eddie looks you up and down as if to say ‘are you serious?’. To be completely honest, you hadn’t taken into account the wildlife that thrived throughout the area before you moved in. Now you were looking more and more dumb by the minute.

“Bears?” He offers an anxious head tilt. “We have fucking bears here, Bambi. You can’t just wander around in the middle of the night.”

“I wouldn’t be wandering.” Why were you trying to make an argument? Out of all the things you could fight him on, why were you choosing whether or not you’d get eaten by a bear? “I would be sitting on my porch.”

You felt like the dumbest woman on the planet and you knew you should’ve stopped talking but the words just…came out.

“Bears can reach your fucking porch, you know that, right?”

His large eyes bored into you in disbelief, his mouth slightly hung open as he awaited your answer.

“Y-yeah.” You gulp.

“God.” He scoffs, turning away from you, perplexed before muttering something under his breath that you happened to also catch. “Christ, they shoulda turned you away.”

“Who?” You pipe up, feeling a bit daring.

For a moment, he turns to stare at you blankly. It’s almost as if you’re the only two people awake and if either of you happened to raise your voice in the slightest, it would awaken the town.

“The assholes that sold you that house.” He just about whines, his voice an octave higher, frustration obvious in his tone.

The refrigerator light briefly appears over the blue and green tiled floor as Eddie opens it, reaching for something before turning around toward the stove and kicking the door shut.

“What–what do you mean? Turn me away? What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask in offense.

“I mean…” He cracks an egg into a pan, followed by another. “They shouldn’t have sold it to someone so clueless.” Another egg.

The shells are discarded in the sink, further cracking into smaller pieces at the impact he’d thrown them.

“What? Were they just supposed to reject me until someone more ‘qualified’ came along?” You try to catch his gaze, ducking your head as he reaches for the salt and pepper. “And–are you seriously making eggs right now?”

You earn a scowl from him as his pan begins to sizzle, his hand quick to grab a spatula from one of the pots on the stove to flip the eggs. This had to have been some weird dream or manifestation. And there they were again, those three numbers falling from his lips in a whisper as his eyes shut temporarily while his eggs simmered.

“I was already qualified before you came along!” He raises his voice, not quite to a yell but not very quiet either.

Silence.

Your eyes must have bulged out of your head, Eddie’s features softening by the second. Regret settled in his eyes, your face the vision of pure horror and all because of him.

He got impatient.

His therapist would be disappointed in him. And so would Wayne.

“I-I just…I was going to, um…” He starts calmly. “I was gonna buy it. And, and I was—” His breathing is now shallow, his eyes wet and pleading. “It–it was–I don’t–”

“Eddie.” You whisper, trying to break through whatever trance he was in.

He seemed stuck in his own head, eyes darting back and forth while he struggled to find words. The eggs were on the verge of burning which prompted you to reach over him and turn the stove off. The spatula he previously held clung against the tile.

“I-I–um, I was–”

It’s as if he isn’t even in the room, totally removed as the same few syllables fell from his tongue.

“I’m–I-I–”

“Eddie, it’s okay.” You attempt to soothe him. “Do you wanna sit down?” You ask, trying to catch his eyes but failing as he squeezes them shut.

Again with the counting.

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.

All under his shaky breath.

“I-I’m fine. ‘M fine.” His voice cracks, eyes opening timidly.

When you go to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, he flinches, a gasp leaving his lungs. Forcing yourself a few steps backward in order to provide him the space he needs, you recognize a hint of fear within him. It’s not of you, it’s something else yanking at his thoughts.

“Sit down, let’s sit down, okay?” You instruct, gradually lower yourself, waiting for him to follow your actions.

Nodding, he slowly slides his back down the side of the counter, falling into a position where his knees were to his chest, hands resting against the floor. You join him, still keeping your distance but wanting him to know that despite the previous tension, you were being supportive through his episode. Whatever it may be.

“Breathe.” You tell him, just as he had done with you back at the bar. “In…and out.” You encourage him.

He follows, his breathing still labored but improving. Continuing for a minute or so, his shoulders finally loosen up, his face relaxing. You let him guide the situation from here, if he wanted to talk or remain mute. Either was okay.

Moments pass, the hard kitchen floor causing you discomfort that you willingly take, not daring to shift around too much as to keep the tranquility finally falling over the two of you. Instead, you take interest in the wood grain of the cabinets, eyes wandering around each curve like a maze, sometimes identifying shapes along the way. A dog’s face, a ghost, and occasionally the haunting silhouette of a human.

Sneaking a glance at Eddie, you find that his eyes are shut as he rests his head against the cabinet behind him, his hands fidgeting with the strings on his hoodie, tying little knots and then undoing them just to repeat the process. Your watch indicates that it’s 4:03 AM. You would usually be sleeping however you can’t really offer yourself much sympathy when it seems this is the norm for Eddie. He always had tired eyes though you’d never put much thought into it until now. He must not be sleeping. Which could also be a contribution to his moodiness.

“I’m gonna lose the bar.” Eddie speaks up from beside you, eyes still shut as he continues to fidget.

“Hm?” You turn your full attention to him.

There’s a pause, a moment of thinking. You can tell as he opens his eyes and side-eyes you, not with malice but more so to collect his thoughts. Lips pinched in between his teeth roughly, you could almost wince at the way blood surfaces from the poor abused skin. Not too obvious, but obvious enough as you await clarification, the tiniest bit of crimson seeping out from behind his teeth only to be left to dry out on his perfectly shaped lips. Then he breaks the silence with a heavy exhale.

“I, uh, I’m pretty close to losing it. Can barely pay the bills on the damn place. Been going downhill for a few months now.” He elaborates, spinning a ring around his finger repeatedly . “I was gonna use the rest of my savings that my grandpa left me to buy that house. Rent it out. I talked to a friend who’s really good with all that financial shit and he said I could get a steady income and most likely keep the bar running and profiting again.”

“Oh.” You whisper, a huge sensation of guilt overtaking you.

“Not your fault.” He sighs. “Guess I’ve been kinda taking it out on you.”

Now he avoids your gaze, far more interested in the cracked tile beneath him. A curse can be made out from just under his breath while he buries his head in his hands, running them up and down his face, almost as if to relieve some of his stress but having no such luck. His admission catches you off guard, not at all suspecting that this morning would turn into honesty hour.

“No.” You reply quickly. “I mean…yes. But I-I didn’t know. If I knew–”

“Don’t give yourself a stroke, Bambi.” He cuts you off, turning to look at you. “I’m not proud of how dick-ish I’ve been. It’s nothing personal though.” Eddie confesses, seemingly annoyed with himself.

Sincerity floods his eyes, a cry for help. But how were you supposed to help him? Before you can muster up some kind of response to his almost-apology, he continues.

“I-uh, I just can’t lose this bar. I inherited it from my grandpa and he had been running it for…years.” Behind his persistence, there’s hints of defeat. A bitterness that you’d come to recognize in the last few weeks. “And, uh, I didn’t know ‘im for very long but, I kinda feel like it’s my responsibility.”

“Didn’t know him for very long?” You asked before even calculating the consequences. You had no right to pry into his personal life.

His hands begin to move up and down his shins, a self-soothing gesture from what you can tell. Eddie was very fidgety, and you’d only just started noticing.

“Yeah.” He whispers. “I moved here like four years ago. Some bad shit happened back home and I–” There’s a moment of hesitation, a sudden panic lurking behind his gaze. “I can’t go back.”

You want so badly to ask him where ‘home’ used to be but decide against it. He had already willingly offered you more information than you would have originally been brave enough to ask for.

“Anyway, I never really knew my grandpa until I came here to live with him. He died last year. I’ve been trying to keep things afloat since then.” He explains, pinching the bridge of his nose with a shaky hand.

“I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t know.”

Genuine sympathy drips from your voice, the kind that felt like hot honey running down a sore throat during flu season. During the moment it feels…good. Comforting. In the way that only his mother ever was in the brief time they had together. And then the sting returns.

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.” The walls are rapidly raised once again and god knows when you would get to peek through the cracks again. “We should, uh, we should get to the bar so you can get your keys. And your car.” He suggests, pulling himself up from the floor with a groan.

“Wait–what about your eggs?” You mention, gripping the edge of the counter for leverage as you stand.

The eggs were long forgotten about, now all sad and cold in the pan. Unappetizing. One of the yolks had somehow broken among the commotion of Eddie’s panic and left a disgusting coating around the gaps, that eggy-wet-dog smell nauseating you. They were trash in all honesty but Eddie didn’t seem to mind, quickly lifting the pan and grabbing a fork to shovel them into his mouth.

You can’t fight the urge to stare, cold eggs and runny yolks being tossed into his mouth without a second thought.

“What?” He glances at you in irritation.

“You could’ve at least heated them up.” You complain, nose crinkled in revolt.

He rolls his eyes but his annoyance quickly melts away, a fraction of a playful smirk pulling at his lips, eyes gleaming with something captivating.

–

The scent of tobacco and motor oil invades your nose, the smells of Eddie’s truck, much different than the little pine tree air freshener in the car he’d driven you in last night. The engine rumbles down the road, startling the birds as he drives by. Some kind of guitar riff blares through the radio, his ringed fingers tapping along against the steering wheel. Instead of his sweatshirt and sweatpants, he now wears a long sleeve covered with his leather jacket along with some ripped up blue jeans. As far as you’re concerned, he’s way underdressed for the brisk morning air, only getting colder and colder by the day. Though, he may run hot and the drop in temperature just doesn’t faze him. Even so, it’d make you feel better if he at least put on a heavier coat.

Regardless, you can’t seem to control the shivers that rattle your body, your teeth nearly chattering, jaw clenched tightly. You were mentally scolding drunk-you for forgetting your jacket at the bar and though you were on your way there now, it didn’t do you any good with the way you were practically an ice cube. It was apparent that the heater of Eddie’s truck wasn’t very efficient as the air coming out was slightly warm but not warm enough to relieve the cold nipping at the exposed skin of your arms. You could see your breath, only further reminding you of how cold you truly were.

Attention was the last thing you wanted as you subtly moved your hands that rested politely in your lap, up your arms to offer the tiniest bit of skin-on-skin warmth. Any kind of relief would do. You only hoped he wouldn’t notice as you began to move your hands back and forth as a means to create some friction, more heat.

Buy a large, fuzzy, soft coat, ASAP. You note to yourself.

As a distraction, you begin to identify objects within the truck, a solo game of ‘I spy’ if you will. At your feet, there’s a small crate of cassette tapes. An impressive collection, mainly metal and rock from what you can see. Maybe a few folksy ones behind those based on the labels, John Denver being the one that stood out to you. Then, another car parts catalog on top of the dash. An empty can of Dr. Pepper in the cup holder. Or what you assume to be empty. A definitely empty cigarette carton abandoned in the other cup holder–

“Shit, here.” Eddie says, reaching behind into the back seat only to magically pull out a denim jacket covered in several patches and pins.

Evidently, you weren’t playing it as cool as you thought, clearly somehow exposing that you were in fact freezing. He showed no emotion as he urged the jacket into your reach, eyes still focused on the road. Your hesitation only had him pushing the denim into your hand, wordlessly cautioning you that he wouldn’t have your modesty or insistence that you were fine. Clutching the rough fabric in your hand, you pause to stare at him, as if he was going to change his mind any second. He doesn’t. Only keeps his eyes forward, brows furrowed in that grumpy manner.

His nose is pink again and you were willing to bet that the tips of his ears matched if they hadn’t been hidden by his wild hair. Even his cheeks were dusted with the lightest rosy shade. Fall looked good on him. You couldn’t even imagine how amazing Summer would look on him.

Quickly, you undo your seatbelt and shrug the jacket on. It’s cold from living in the truck all night but warms you up regardless, much cozier than your bare arms out in the open. And it smells like Eddie, a smell you can’t quite pinpoint to one specific thing. A little bit like cigarettes, maybe a hint of cologne, spicy but not overpowering, and a whiff of rubber. It almost smelled like a garage.

The sun was just rising on the horizon, the lake coming into view perfectly as if to put on a show. Hues of orange painted the sky, birds chirping and squawking as they announced the arrival of a new day. An apricot dream accompanied by peachy tones.

–

The Bourbon was a shell of itself at 5:00 AM. The morning was bright and early though the bar wasn’t ready to awaken just yet, not until the evening when it thrived. Until then, it slept peacefully throughout the day, forgotten about until Happy Hour. Ribbons of light snuck in through the blinds, illuminating the smallest sections of the tables and the floorboards.

The lights quickly took over that magical early morning feel as Eddie emerged next to you, hands tucked into his pockets while you scanned the room. And there they were, your keys. Sat right on top of the bar just as you had remembered. Your jacket, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Bummer.

You could’ve sworn you grabbed it from the back lockers before you declared war on Eddie last night. It wasn’t there either, your locker devoid of your belongings other than a pad of paper and a pen.

“Have you seen my jacket?” You ask Eddie, checking the barstools just to be safe. Nothing.

He had slipped right back into work mode, even at the crack of dawn. You suppose it's fair though, the information he had shared with you in the quietest hours of the morning resonating in your mind. Work never stopped for him.

“Hm? No, I haven’t seen it.” He answers, collecting the dirty rags from their designated bin behind the bar to start them up in the wash.

With a soft pout, you trace your steps in your head but can’t seem to recall where you’d left it, your brain failing you. Maybe it would eventually pop up again, it wasn’t anything special anyway. It just happened to be one of the heaviest jackets you owned so you would have to remember to stop by one of the shops to search for something equivalent. Beginning to pull your arm out of the sleeve of the jacket you currently wore, Eddie’s voice stops you.

“Just–keep it ‘til you find yours.” He says. Like he knew.

Were you that obvious? Girl moves to a random town miles and miles away from home only to be unprepared for the weather conditions in which you would think she would be aware of before committing.

“No, it’s–”

You immediately shut up when you see his expression, something that says ‘for the love of god, just listen’ with glaring eyes and furrowed brows. Instead of fighting him on it, you offer your gratitude in the form of labor.

“Um, I could stick around…and help. If you need.”

Your words float in the air, so delicate it makes him want to vomit; not out of disgust but out of confusion for whatever feeling was swirling around in his head, making him dizzy. Each word was too sweet, cavity inducing sweetness that he wanted to lick up like icing. He wasn’t used to being presented with such regard, a candied offer delivered right from your pretty lips to his ears.

“If I still have a job.” You add. Sugary syllables pouring from your lips unintentionally. He may have a heart attack from the amount of sugar.

Eddie collects himself, clears his throat as if to also clear his conscience, not succeeding. You’re so unlike everything that he knows. He knows of friendly conversation and boyish banter, endless nights followed by endless days without sleep, he knows of his shitty attitude that comes around more often than not, but he’s never been one to know pure kindness, a certain tenderness radiating from you and seeping into him. Sure people are kind to him, especially here. But you’re something else.

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘course you have a job.” He affirms.

The small smile you grace him with makes him want to jump off of a bridge. Because he is such a cruel being, such a monstrous man awaiting further punishment from the universe for being much less than gentle with such a sweet-tempered, sympathetic human that may even be a gift from god himself if Eddie believed in all that.

And then Chrissy crossed his mind. He could not endure another loss. Chrissy was never even his but he used to mourn what could have been had she lived. Perhaps she was his first love. A miserable little middle schooler pining after Hawkin’s Sweetheart all the way up until highschool. And the moment he got close enough, she was gone, right in front of his poor traumatized eyes. It was enough for him to swear off love for good.

For some reason he was finding himself wanting to dial back on that promise. He had only known you for around two weeks and was going back on his own word. It was freaking him out, making him want to yank his hair out from the roots and collapse onto the floor. He felt like a teenage boy again, going through puberty and trying to work out all of his jumbled feelings and hormones.

You were staring at him expectantly and it was only then that he realized he had been lost in thought. A pool of thoughts actually. Maybe even having a revelation?

“You can uh…” He clears his throat, nearly hacking up a lung. “You haven’t…you haven’t eaten, have you?”

Internally, he’s scolding himself.

You’re gonna get hurt before you can even get close. People are not meant to love you, Munson. It’s been proven time and time again. Quit while you’re ahead.

He was too far ahead anyway. Would he ever learn his lesson?

People are not meant to love you.

“No.” You answer sheepishly. “But I-I’m fine!” You try to say convincingly. The reality was that your stomach was swallowing itself, the fact that your dinner had been four tequila shots was not favoring you.

“Bambi.” Eddie says sternly.

God she’s gorgeous.

He was fucked.

“Okay…fine. I haven’t eaten.” You admit. “But I can help out a little and then–”

“C’mon.” He demands, abandoning the bin of dirty rags to head for the kitchen.

And on the way, he reasons with himself as you follow.

Just be friendly. There’s nothing wrong with being friendly. We can be friends. Stop scaring the shit out of yourself. She wouldn’t even like you beyond that. No one would.

“So, what are you feelin’?” He asks, knocking his knuckles against the metal worktop.

“Oh, I-I don’t know. Whatever is easiest. You know what, I can just go get something from one of the shops, I’m sure that little pancake place is open by now.”

“You don’t trust my cooking?” He jokes, amusement written all over his face.

To be fair, he hadn’t given you much reason to trust him since you arrived. But somehow, layers were starting to peel back and you were getting the tiniest glimpses of his true self. And you’d be stupid not to indulge when he had practically propped the door to his mind right open. At least for the time being.

“Should I?” There’s a huge grin on your face, a stupid grin that you try to conceal but can’t. “I dunno, you kind of have me wondering if you’re gonna spit in my food or something.” You quip.

“Ouch.” Eddie feigns hurt by bringing a hand to his chest. “You think I’m that scummy?” He asks, raising his brow playfully.

“Oh, the scummiest.” You banter back.

“You’re breakin’ my heart Bambi.” He frowns before disappearing into the walk-in freezer, discarding his leather jacket on a hook on his way.

Truth be told he was breaking yours too, with his handsome face and his dumb smile, deep dimples you could think about for hours, and those eyes. They told a story, a tragic story that maybe he would never care to share. And that’s what broke your heart. Suffering in silence. You knew that feeling all too well.

“By the way…” Eddie shouts from the freezer before appearing once again. “I’m Eddie.” He sticks his hand out toward you, two eggs held in his free hand.

You look up at him, bewildered.

“I never asked for your name.” He reminds you with a shit-eating grin.

The Eddie you met weeks ago was gone as far as you were concerned. All within a few hours, he seemed to warm up to you.

The scary dog was rolling over…for you.

~end~

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiemunson95 @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #eddie munson au #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things au #stranger things fic

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oftlunarialmoon · 5 months

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Ciao lovelies! I have written before on the topic of Age Regression many times, from explaining what Age Regression is, to Age Regression Self-Care, to Age Regression Journaling. I never explicitly said before now, but I, myself, am an age regressor to cope with stress (and some other mental health reasons). The reason why I have officially decided to come forward and say so is because I feel that I want to keep writing posts on the topic of age regression, some with personal experience perhaps, so I want to be open with you all and let you know why I continue to write on this topic. I’ve also noticed some of this blog’s audience is made up of age regressors like myself, and I want to provide you all with some content from a safe, welcoming, and open-minded source. All that being said, today I’ve decided to write down 101 activity ideas for Age Regressors/ Things to Do When Bored, Age Regression edition. Please be sure to let me know in the comments (yes, you can even comment anonymously!) if you like these ideas, please be sure to tell me your favorite!

101 ACTIVITIES FOR AGE REGRESSORS

Outside Activities for Summer

1. Play on a swing-set!

2. Play hopscotch!

3. Color with chalk!

4. Build Fairy houses with materials you find outside!

5. Take pictures of your toys in nature! This works especially well for dinosaur toys, animal toys, et, because they look like they’re meant to be in nature!

6. Jump rope!

7. Go swimming!

8. Go fishing with a net and play catch and release!

9. Go to a beach and find cool seashells!

10. Read a book outside in the sun!

11. Go for an ice cream!

Outside Activities for Fall

12. Find leaves and flowers and press them into a journal. You can also do Leaf rubbings, where you put a piece of paper over a leaf and use a crayon to rub over it to get the imprint of the leaf on the paper!

13. Carve a pumpkin!

14. Go to a pumpkin patch and take lots of pics among the pumpkins! You can even pick out one to take home and make into a Jack-O-Lantern (like #12)!

15. Collect cool leaves and make a leaf arrangement/wreath!

Outside Activities for Winter

16. Build a snowman!

17. Build a snow-fort!

18. Have a snowball fight!

19. Try to catch snowflakes on your tongue!

20. Make snow angels!

21. Play hide and seek in the snow!

Outside Activities for Spring

22. Collect flowers and make bouquets!

23. Make flower crowns!

24. Play tag with some friends!

25. Weave grass into cool shapes!

26. Collect cool rocks/gemstones…You can even pretend to be a dragon who’s collecting rocks for their hoard!

Indoor Activities for Any Season

27. Redecorate your room!

28. Clean your room! (I know, bleh, but if you clean then you’ll have a clean slate for #27!)

29. Change your phone’s wallpaper/lockscreen (check out our Instagram Highlight for some of ours!)

30. Play with makeup!

31. Try out new hairstyles!

32. Play dress up!

33. Play with some dolls!

34. Play pretend! You could pretend to be a teacher for your dolls/toys, or even have your stuffies go on super cool adventures with you!

35. Craft! You can make accessories, décor, toys, clothes, anything! Check out our DIY tag for lots of fun crafts!

36. Read some kid books!

37. Stim! I like crinkles when I’m small, and I also like slime and flappy hands!

38. Play with squishies!

39. Walk around a store and look at all the toys and kid stuff!

40. Go on a Dollar Store shopping spree! You can get a lot of stuff at a dollar store for under like $20!

41. Color in some cool pictures!

42. Design a new OC (Original Character)

43. Draw some comics! They can be of yourself or of your OC’s!

44. Cosplay your OC’s/any character you like!

45. Do a photoshoot!

46. Make a sensory bottle!

47. Set up a dollhouse!

48. Make beaded bracelets!

49. Make yourself a snack!

50. Or a meal!

51. Bake some cookies (just be careful with the hot oven, okay?)

52. Have a dance party with your stuffies!

53. Make a playlist to regress to!

54. Find new regression YouTubers!

55. Play some video games! I love Slime Rancher , Animal Crossing, and more!

56. Play with some phone apps! I love Animal Crossing Pocket Camp, Pastel Girl, and Pokémon Go!

57. Try to mix your own perfume!

58. Design a picture using glitter!

59. Draw some fashion designs!

60. Start an age regression journal!

61. Practice some age regression self-care!

62. Make a self-care box!

63. Make figures from modeling clay!

64. Paint your nails!

65. Give your stuffies/dolls a makeover!

66. Find cute regression music!

67. Make posters for your room!

68. Make gifts for your friends!

69. Find a new penpal!

70. Write letters to your pen-pal!

71. Start a sticker scrapbook!

72. Open some blind-bags!

73. Watch some toy youtubers. Our YouTube Channel has some toy videos, my other favorites are Cookie Swirl C and My Froggy Stuff!

74. Make your own YouTube Channel!

75. Create a mystery to solve with your stuffies!

76. Solve a Crossword Puzzle!

77. Solve a Wordsearch!

78. Finish a puzzle!

79. Design your own puzzle!

80. Make an escape room for your toys!

81. Paint something!

82. Watch cute anime like Himouto Umaru Chan!

83. Watch cute shows on Netflix like Twelve Forever or Hilda!

84. Watch fun shows on Hulu like Gravity Falls!

85. Go to the library!

86. Play chess or checkers!

87. Watch a movie! I like Welcome to Monster High!

88. Go see a movie in theatres!

89. Make temporary tattoos using food coloring!

90. Make your own T-shirt using a blank T-shirt and fabric paints!

91. Take a little nap!

92. Put on a play with or for your stuffies!

93. Make clothes and accessories for your stuffies!

94. Make clothes and accessories for your dolls!

95. Make furniture for your dolls!

96. Make your own blindbags for a friend!

97. Upcycle your old clothes and jewelry by designing them into something new!

98. Visit a thrift store!

99. Go to a museum!

100. Go to the mall!

101. Visit an Arcade!

WHEW! I hope that is enough ideas for you bored little ones out there. Have a great day!

#agere #age regression #sfw littlespace #sfw agere #age regressor #sfw age regression #agereg #age dreaming #sfw little blog

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coffeedepressionsoup · 6 months

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Somebody Does Love | MYG - They Meet Again

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage. This is the one where fate plays games and Sammy plays Cupid. Part 3 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 2.2k

Warnings - lil swearing, SMOKING IS INJURIOUS TO HEALTH! nothing else I can think of

Ratings - 13+

Taglist: @majiiisstuff @starlighttaek8 @yoongrace @proudnoona

A/N - I have been in some of the worst times folks. Slipped back into depression. Lost people. Learnt lessons. Still very much in love with our honey boy though. The day I wrote this was one of the very bad days and I am typing this note through my hazy glasses because of these bloody tears. Excuse the typos, and grammar errors. Do not have the energy to proofread. Please be kind. Do like, comment and reblog. Thank you! Here goes nothing.

What was he thinking? Just how drunk was he? Why is he considering going? It’s just a jacket. He has dozens of those. Yoongi nervously bounced his legs as the rest of his body sat very still on the dressing room chair. Two different brushes - no one brush and a sponge - were being lightly tapped against his face now and a pair of hands were insistently tugging at his half-wet hair trying to style it. This was the last look for a magazine cover shoot. Even as he stared straight into the mirror, he thought back to a small cat and their rescuer.

The next hour and forty minutes passed agonisingly slow. As soon as the director announced wrap, Yoongi was up and halfway out of the satin shirt he was in. By the time he reached the dressing room, he discarded it completely. Soojin, his manager, rushed in after him and asked as he shut the door, “You are really going?”

Yoongi placed the rings and earrings he had taken off on Soojin’s extended hands and nodded as he put his own t-shirt on.

“It is too public, Yoongi-ah…” the older gentleman tried to reason one last time as he saw the other scrub his face hastily off with a few makeup removal wipes.

“How will they know?” the rapper turned around, now having completed his outfit with a cap, a sunglass and a mask.

“They know you by the shape of your head and the size of your shoulder. You really want to risk it?”

“I am not risking anything. You are driving me there,” Yoongi said with a smirk evident in his tone.

Soojin was left looking at the open door of the dressing room that now had the stylist and a couple of other members of the crew walk in. He handed over the jewellery he was holding from earlier, bid goodbye and jogged off to his car.

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

You were sat at the cafe sipping on your second latte of the evening. Tapping on your screen to check the time, you let out a yawn. 6:53. Well, maybe you could excuse an hour’s delay. Weekend traffic. Maybe he overslept? As much as you were grateful to Yong-ho, you were also hoping to see his face today. There are not many things you know about him. He has a deep, soothing voice. He smells nice. He is rich enough to casually wear designer jackets. He is kind, helpful and polite. Thoughtful. He is also quite patient. And his eyes. His eyes were beautiful. Solemn but with a shine that could make someone comfortable.

Comfortable. Why did a stranger you met for half an hour register as comfortable to you? Your phone chimed. A message from Sammy. - Done yet? “Still waiting” - Wtf

- I don’t think he will show up then - I told you it’s a perfect fit for me

- Let me keep it

You chuckled at the series of messages.

“I will wait till 7:30”

- Then meet me directly at Hajoon’s place

- I will put out food for Ash

“Thanks, man. See ya soon” You closed the chat and smiled down at your wallpaper. Ash fast asleep on Woolfie’s back. The kitten and the dog had gotten along exceptionally well. After Woolfie peed on the kitchen floor when baby Ash hissed at him from Sammy’s lap on the first night, there had been no major issues. Ash had tried once to drink from the dog’s bowl the next day and had fallen into it. You fetched her out and dried her up with a hand towel, and the rest of it, Woolfie had licked clean. That night was the first time they napped together.

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

Yoongi sat on the floor near the sofa where Yijeong and Hoseok were playing FC24. Hoseok was leading by 3 goals. Yijeong almost threw his controller at him in frustration, as the rest of the small group around them chuckled and watched the game progress.

Yoongi also stared at the screen but his mind wandered far away from the game and his friends. His hands absent-mindedly tugged at the inseam of his jeans.

As Soojin pulled up in front of the cafe earlier that evening, he could feel the sweat drip down his spine inside the air-conditioned car. He stared for a few seconds at the road in front of the car before turning his head towards the cafe you had agreed to meet at. As if it was an attempt to allow himself to catch a breath and just appear cool, just in his own head. A failed attempt at that.

Even though he turned to look at the cafe from his car seat, he had not expected you to sit right at the window from where he was parked not even 4 whole metres away. Thankfully you were facing sideways, staring at something inside the cafe that Yoongi could not see. If only you were to turn towards the window to your left, your line of vision would directly collide with the tinted window of Yoongi’s car.

Soojin coughed lightly from beside him. Yoongi only blinked a couple of times before he shut his slightly agape mouth and swallowed the breath that he didn’t know was stuck at his throat. He saw your face move down towards the table, presumably where your phone was. Phone. Why didn’t he exchange numbers back then? He knows why. Well, he could have given Soojin’s number at least. They could arrange for a more discreet pickup.

Fuck the pickup. Yoongi had half forgotten that this meeting was about picking up the jacket he had lent you to wrap the rescued kitten in. Sure, that was the reason he gave Soojin that morning when he said he had to make a stop after the shoot. But for the whole weekend, his head had been clouded with your face. And your cooing voice at the kitten. And your bright smile as you introduced yourself. And the smell of your perfume and/or your shampoo that encircled you.

Looking forward to Sunday evening, he felt a tightness in his chest and stomach that could have been mistaken for trapped gas. But he knew this feeling all too well. It was anticipation. He has felt it for years ahead of each show or some big live interviews. He would also feel it once for someone he used to date. But that is what is odd.

Sunday evening was not a date. Hell, he even felt creeped out by the fact that his feelings mirrored something akin to what he would feel like in anticipation of dates. Of course, it wasn’t even his intention to turn a simple transaction meeting into a date. But he had also not expected the sleepless nights that followed meeting you. And the half-written lyrics of a song on his phone. Nor did he expect the feeling of missing somebody he had exchanged less than 20 lines of dialogue with.

When you had asked how to return his jacket, he almost wanted to say that you didn’t need to. Luckily, even within the first second, his mind deemed it too off-handed of a statement to make and he saw the cafe logo in his peripheral vision. Before he started overthinking and/or asked to exchange numbers, he pointed at the cafe and said, “How about we meet at that cafe on Sunday evening?”

And there he was. Outside the cafe. On Sunday evening. Almost having a panic attack in the safe confines of his car.

He could walk out of the car and into the cafe. He could walk up to you and say hello. He could make small talk for a couple of minutes. He could take back his jacket and thank you politely. He could then walk back out.

He could. But he didn’t want to.

He did not want to make small talk with you. He wanted to know how you were doing. How your days have been. If you have spent the three nights just as sleeplessly. He also wanted to know how the kitten was doing. How the two of you were getting along. If you had any other pets. If yes, how many. If all of them were getting along. If the pets had another parent. He wanted to ask you so many things and he wanted to hear you say so much.

The cafe was not at its busiest. Even from where Yoongi was, he could see a few empty tables. He drew in a deep breath and placed his fingers lightly on the door, preparing to open it.

It was at that very moment that you turned to your left, looking out of the cafe through the window you were sitting next to. You glanced down momentarily at what presumably again was your phone and looked back out the window. 6:18. You looked at people milling around the street outside the cafe.

But to Yoongi, you were looking right at where he was. The concept of his tinted glass windows disappeared from his comprehension as he (seemingly) held your gaze and fluttered one of his hands over Soojin’s arm, urging him to drive off. Alert as ever, the elder man started driving promptly. Yoongi “held” your gaze for as long as he could till he bumped his head against the car window, closing his eyes, inhaling and exhaling in quick succession trying to even his breathing.

He slowly slumped back down against the passenger seat of the car and unclenched the hand that he did not realise until now was clamping down on one of his knees. He stared ahead at the Sunday evening Seoul traffic, shivering a little from feeling some of his sweat dry up. Soojin turned to him at the next red light and said, “Don’t worry, Joon will understand.”

Nothing more was said in the whole car ride up to his friend’s place. Soojin dropped him off and went back to drop the car off at Yoongi’s building before heading to his own place. Yoongi had planned to drive back home with Hobi. They lived in the same building after all.

Joon will understand. Joon will understand?Joon will not even know that the jacket he gifted his hyung last year was missing unless Yoongi told him so.

He wasn’t thinking about Joon. Nor was he thinking about the jacket. Of course, he wasn’t.

He was thinking about your slightly impatient gaze. You bun sitting lightly at the nape of your neck. Your hands that you briefly rested your face on. Your face. You. He was thinking about you. Like he had for more than than the past two days.

He was thinking about where you were now. What you were doing. What you were thinking. What you decided to do with the jacket. If you threw it at a random trash or kept it with you. If you were cursing him. If you were complaining about him to a friend.

He felt a cramp in his stomach that is usually indicative of nervous diarrhoea. He felt like a dick. For having stood you up, yes. But he was also disappointed at having chickened out. Maybe if he had not waited in his car at all, it would have gone over smoothly. Maybe if you hadn’t looked out at him (his general direction) he would not have freaked out. He tried to tell himself that it was too crowded. He was too tired. And not a coward because of his stupid, random, huge ass crush on Y/N Y/LN. Someone he only met for half an hour. And spent almost all of it watching her bond with a stray kitten by her side.

He looked up as he felt a slight kick on his back. He realised he was staring at a static screen and that his friends had all gathered over the pizzas that had now arrived. He had not noticed when even though he was the closest to the door. He got up and was making his way towards the rest of the group when the doorbell rang.

Yoongi stopped and turned around. He was the closest to the door after all. None of the others seemed to bother reacting to it anyway. He walked to the door and froze as he saw the person on the ring machine. He knew he was supposed to press a single button to unlock the door. He knew which button it was. But his head and his hands refused to cooperate. He stood frozen for a couple of seconds, staring at the screen in front of him, until the bell rang again.

Yoongi thought he heard this ring in a more muffled way as if it was coming from far away.

It wasn’t until the third ring that someone else left the group, half a slice of pizza stuffed in his mouth and half in his hand walked towards the door, that Yoongi could hear everything normally again.

“Must be Y/N,” Hajoon called out, patting Yoongi on the back, and reaching over his shoulder to open the door.

After the small beep, you walked in, almost bumping into someone’s chest.

#min yoongi #bts fic #bts suga #min yoongi x reader #suga #yoongi #yoongi fic #bts x reader

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hellotherediesel · 1 year

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The Undertale Kickstarter Updates: Stuff I Found

(SURGEON’S GENERAL WARNING: Long and full of images with ALT text)

(SURGEON’S SECOND WARNING: Also lots of buff dogs. You have been warned.)

So. The Undertale Kickstarter. When you could pay Toby $32 for the Undertale soundtrack but only Papyrus’ Cool Song. Or $1000 for a canon fantroll. Anywho, it had 39 Kickstarter updates, so I thought I’d put some funny stuff I found here.

Ready?

I’m not.

Section 1: Chronological Funnies

A bunch of funnies in chronological order.

(I would’ve included the buff Flowey image by itself here but Tumblr forbid it)

A thing from the 200% post (Update #2, posted on June 24th, 2013):

Now a thing from Update #3 (Posted on June 25th, 2013):

How about something from Update #4 posted on June 26th, 2013?

Update 5… on June 27th, 2013… I have no words (except for in the ALT text)

According to the next update, Toby Fox was in China while Undertale was still in development! How interesting!

Our next image is from Update #8, posted on (drumroll) July 10th, 2013!!!!!!

Wow, that image description took a lot out of me. Anywho, time for Update #9, posted on July 16th, 2013!

Yes, that’s the somewhat infamous “deltarune reference” line.

Nothin’ funny in #10, so we’re skipping ahead to Update #11, having been posted on July 23rd, 2013.

Anywho, now it’s about time for something from Update #18, which was posted on May 3rd, 2014 (Whoah timeskip! The reason will become apparent later).

Alrig- UNDYNE?!?!?!?!?!

Oh yeah some other stuff from Update #19 as well:

For those curious, “Song.” seems to be either an early version or variation of “Quiet Water” and “Other song.” is “Spooktune”.

Next update! Alphys is here too.

Update #21!? Uploaded on October 30th, 2014!?!? Impossible!!!!!

The song above’s final name is “Can You Really Call This A Hotel I Didn't Receive A Mint On My Pillow”.

What Update number? You guessed it! #22! Wait… it was uploaded on December 18th, 2014!? Unacceptable!

Update #24. Posted February 22nd, 2015.

Bork

GET THAT DOG OUTTA HERE!!!! I’M MAKING A POST AROUND HERE!!!!!

Now that small, white dog’s outta my office… here’s a thing from Update #28 that was uploaded on June 30th, 2015 (and is the reason I’m a 99% true Undertale fan).

Update #29, posted on July 29th, 2015. The worst one.

Update #30, posted on August 22nd, 2015. The second to last one I’ll put something from here.

Update #32. Posted on September 14th, 2015 (1 day before Undertale released!)

Still can’t believe I did section one (1) in only 30 images. Anywho-

Section 2: What I Couldn’t See

Basically, I didn’t know about the Kickstarter in 2013, and thus couldn’t, and didn’t, back it.

Unfortunately, some posts are backer EXCLUSIVE (rude >:() and I cannot see them.

This section is literally just a list of the backer exclusive posts.

Update #6: 20000 Wallpapers!

Update #13: I'm Back... Let's figure out $100+ tier

Update #14: Small Update

Update #15: Not Gone... Just......... Busy...

Update #16: Hello! Merry Holidays!

Update #25: Credits Names???

Update #33: Playing the game

Update #34: Just checking in...

Update #35: Another Update

Update #36: Mini Update On The Stretch Goals

Update #37: another minor update

Update #38: Rewards being sent out imminently!!

Update #39: If you didn't get contacted about your physical rewards

I assume all of these either have info that would not pertain to non-backers at ALL or have secret rewards you get for paying money.

Either way, #13 - #16 being backer-only should help explain the timeskip earlier.

Section 3: ok bye

bye bye still dunno why i did this but bye

oh yeah also

thanks for reading my first long post

and also

REMEMBER TO [Like and Subscribe!] FOR MORE [rrrRRR]ANDOM [#%$&]

#undertale #kickstarter #toby fox #temmie chang #utdr #safe utdr #dog #buff dog #buff flowey #buff papyrus #buff toriel #not buff sans #don’t get ur hopes up about that #safeutdr

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idontgetanysleep · 9 months

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thanks for the tag @wolffegirlsunite ! <3

1. ride or die ship (your otp): padme x anakin (ik he is toxic as fuck brother!!), or codywan because cute

2. most annoying ship: ahsoka x rex or anakin x rex, i just don’t see them as anything other than like siblings so it freaks me out, also i just can’t see anakin with anyone other than padme because that boy is OBSESSED (sorry if you like these ships they just aren’t my thing)

3. second favourite ship: tech x phee, i’m not even a tech girly but i just absolutely adore their dynamic

4. favourite platonic relationship: AHSOKA AND REX, i love their sibling like relationship sm, a close second is cody and rex they are the besties of the GAR and i love it, also omega and wrecker bc they are adorable

5. underrated ship: obi x satine, bly x aayla

6. overrated ship: reylo

7. one thing i would change in canon: cody being in the kenobi series 😐 (like he was fucking suppose to be!)

8. something canon did right: the entirety of the clone wars, but specifically showing how mistreated clones are and not just brushing it off as “they love war! they were made for it!😃” like how it is in the prequels, i love how the clone wars shows the process of the clones realizing they are more than what they were programmed to do, the whole shifting from clone troopers to storm troopers in tbb is something i also think canon did right because it is so important in the history of the empire, and i love how they are showing a bit of how the clone troopers are helping each other after all these years of just helping their superiors (they are finally fighting for each other!)

9. a thing i'm proud of creating for the fandom PLEASE BRAG ABOUT YOURSELF I WANT TO SEE/READ YOUR ART: my wallpapers! specifically the cowboy mando set i just uploaded :) i’m really proud of how they came out

10. a character who is perfect to me (wouldn't change a thing): rex, cody, jesse, kix, fives, echo, wolffe, hunter, howzer, gregor, mayday, etc…(LITERALLY ANY CLONE, IM NOT KIDDING) but also ahsoka, din djarrin, and chuchi too

11. the character i relate to the most and why: ahsoka probably, just growing up a certain way and realizing it isn’t right and leaving it behind you\having almost no one from that past family listen (that was kinda deep, my b)

12. character(-s) i hate the most and why: palpatine, tarkin, that mf that didn’t help mayday, PONG KRELL! i feel like the reasons are obvious

13. something i've learned from the fandom: it’s okay to be entirely invested in star wars! i get a lot of shit for being a die hard star wars fan but then i come on here and feel safe about it :)

14. three tags i seek out on ao3: i don’t have ao3 💔 i read all my fics on here because i love you writers <3

15. a song i strongly associate with my op/favourite character:

favorite character: rex

song: epiphany - taylor swift

no pressure tags! @starrylothcat @arctrooper69 @techorgana @blueink-bluesoul @cloneloverrrrr @dukeoftheblackstar @sunkissedclones @freesia-writes

if you have already participated ignore the tag!

if you want to join in and aren’t tagged pls do! and tag me!

#tag post #h interacts #h likes to share music

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raphael-angele · 9 months

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TJ Headcanon of the Week cuz School is a bitch

Troy can't lie.

This boy cannot lie and can tell when people are lying, even without his lasso.

I firmly believe Troy was raised to never lie and whenever he does, he'd feel nauseous. If you've watched Knives Out, you'll know exactly what I mean. I also think he's incapable of swearing or using curse words.

Here's the part I wanna add:

If you were to him give truth serum in any form, he goes completely no filter. He wont sugarcoat his words, he will say what is on his mind and it will not wear off until the serum does.

Example (Inspired by)

Mad Madam (E11 Mad Mod): Drink Troy, kidnapped again: Is there truth serum in this? You know what happens if I drink truth serum, right? Mad Madam: Just drink it. Troy: *drinks* Mad Madam: Okay, now where are they keeping- Troy: I don't like your wallpaper. Also, you give me the vibes of someone who would drink baby blood 2 minutes after truth serum: Troy: Except for all the blue and red, you wanna know what else isn't a good style for you? Being a two-faced bitch. 5 minutes after truth serum: Troy: I would rather make out with a typhon than be here! 7 minutes after truth serum: Troy: *proceeds to drink more* Also, this tea is shit; I'm just drinking it to be polite. But you don't deserve politeness, you deserve being hit by a lightning bolt 10 minutes after truth serum: Troy: I lost my contacts two weeks ago and I still can't see shit. I can't even see your old ass face right now. 12 minutes after truth serum: Troy: Are you single?! Mad Madam, worried: Yes? Troy: I can give you so many reasons why; please make this stop. 13 minutes later: Troy: Your face! Let's start with that! It looks like somebody ran over a goldfish. And your personality perfectly matches your face cuz it's so ugly! 15 minutes later: Troy: You make me want to throw myself off of Mt. Olympus.

#dc comics #dc #donald troy #donna troy #troy #troia #teen justice #teen titans #young justice #earth 11 #genderbend #multiversity #multiversity teen justice #wonder woman #wonder girl

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