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#seriously I don't even know how to tag this shit
vivi-virucide · 1 year
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hi I have no idea if this has already been done or how tf to format audio posts in general so take this from a very abrupt thought I had
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camellcat · 5 months
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CAMPBELL BAIN U MEAN EVERYTHING TO ME I LOVE YOU!!!!!!
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fun extras since this took me FOREVER!!
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anddd finally, here's a playlist of the music I listened to while working on this! it's definitely not my usual tunes but I swear I was just so much more productive and better at drawing him when I switched to these hahaha
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Beefing with random Jews excitedly posting their Hanukkah prep and celebration photos in their notes and replies does absolutely nothing to help raise awareness or show support for Palestine, but I've already scrolled by it substantially more than I expected. This is the EXACT kind of shit Israel is going to be counting on this holiday season to rally the idea that pro-Palestinian support = antisemitism (which they already do relentlessly anyway). Don't fucking do their job for them by actually being antisemitic. It was established forever ago that not only are people not their governments, period, but in an adjacent vein, Jews are not Israel. Let people have a happy Hanukkah without harassment, especially the ones who've already been fighting for the Palestinian cause this entire time.
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moe-broey · 7 months
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At the risk of revealing I know very little about things in general, I really don't understand why Nintendo is shutting down online support for the 3DS/Wii U? Or that like, they can even Do That? Cause like, to me it makes sense that they'd have control and the say-so on the eShop, that's like, something they run as a company and Yes it absolutely sucks ass they nuked it for profit but like. Idk if I'll even phrase this right LMFAO but it seems like something they run themselves so it makes sense that they have complete authority over it. It's in their jurisdiction.
But like??? In my mind, if you have A Device that can connect to the internet it just. Should? Like I don't need a phone plan/data to use my old phone as a Youtube running device, as long as I'm connected to the internet. Like, the internet is a third party almost, one that you pay for personally and separately from any device you can use it with. I don't understand how Nintendo can intersect that and cut it off for their devices, specifically. Like, even if they have servers??? Idk how any of that works tbh I was just under the impression that if you have a device that you own and internet access. It's just those two things. Maybe it gets more complicated when it comes to games like Splatoon, but still....
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Hi
Yeah, I've seen the 1 min 30 Izzy teaser. I've seen it many times. I'm choosing to not go crazy on here because the second I do, I will abandon my WIP, and spend all day going in mental loops.
I'm just stuck on feelings of- 'damn we were right' (happy) and 'oh, damn, we were right' (devastated).
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leavingautumn13 · 5 months
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Name: Darksun
Age: adult(tm)
Meaning behind tumblr url: Ghost faced bats are my favorite animal in a "he's so ugly, i love him!" kinda way
Hobbies/Interests: Uhh mostly drawing and writing! I also love playing video games (like fallout and pokemon which initially drew me to your account LOL)
Why you follow me: I love your art SO MUCH! Goals really
Random fact about yourself: biggest OC hoarder in the west. currently working on my sci-fi setting's story!
Question for me: What's your favorite moment/scene in pokemon emerald and why?
[introduce yourself!]
thank you for sharing about bats; i love learning about new animals! they are cute in an ugly sort of way. i love them.
and i love your art too!! streamer courtney is based, and i know nothing about fnaf but your art for it is so cool. if you ever post about your sci-fi setting, i'd love to know more about it!
as for my favorite scene in emerald, i gotta say i'm a groudon fan so groudon waking up is up there for sure. also the fact that this happens like halfway into the story and then nothing comes of it until the end. what was groudon doing for that time? where were they?? i'm so curious. i'm definitely getting into this in a fic don't worry
that being said, shoutout for introducing multi battles by teaming up with steven at the mossdeep space center, but also i'd like to know why we can't do this with other trainers throughout the game. let me team up with archie to fight maxie and tabitha at mt chimney. let me team up with maxie to fight archie and shelly at seafloor cavern. that would have been so cool. 3/10 missed opportunity
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master-k0hga · 4 months
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| A L Y S S A |
[ Category: Misc OCs ]
| Rebellious woman with a daredevil like attitude and will literally cause problems on purpose while having loads of fun doing so, she'll start fights and still feels like a champ even if she loses!
This is another rando OC I've had for a very long time too who's very good friends with another OC of mine (who I haven't gotten to completely re-designing yet and I seriously need to cuz I love him too) cuz she's more of like his emotional support while also trying to give him a heart attack with the crazy shit she does.
This is Alyssa, and originally she was like a 20 something year old before I re-designed her slightly a year ago, accidentally made her older than intended and stuck with it cuz it actually suits her a hell of a lot more than I thought it would... So she's like in her 50's now and I feel that works a hella lot better for her development!
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
INFO
Name: Alyssa Species: Human General Personality: Outgoing, confident, troublesome, daredevil, jokester, rough Height: 5ft "5" Relationship Status: Single
Extra Info:
(TW Miscarriage) She got married to a guy she had dated for 10 years, roughly in their early 30's. They tried for a baby, however unfortunately due to health complications of the baby's development she ended up having a miscarriage. Where it took a toll on the both of them they both heavily agreed to get a divorce and go to therapy, they keep in contact as friends now and plan to keep it that way; Alyssa has completely lost interest in relationships and such since and could explain why she has become very rebellious as she got older
She works as a waitress at a small diner up to roughly 4 to 5 days a week with average 5 hours when she's not being a menace to society; Surprisingly enough how she's still got her job after several separate occasions doing time in prison, community service and so on. In the end she's probably just a very good waitress
She's also a biker and loves bikes to hell and back, she's joins a very popular biker gang who mainly go around the city and open up soup kitchens for the homeless; Despite so much trouble, contributing to something like this makes her feel very humble and useful to some things
Loves going clubbing and will most of the time (or always) come out drunk asf; Mainly on weekends of course
She has a personal collections of all sorts of weapons; Custom made knives, tasers, nun chucks and even handcuffs she managed to steal from a police officer before making her escape via a car chase that lasted roughly and hour and 20 minutes before she got caught again. Why they never took the cuffs off of her after that is another question, assumed she must've got them off and dumped them somewhere before coming back for them eventually at some point
She has a good friend who she cares deeply for and will do anything she can to make him feel more comfortable and less anxious doing mundane activities
+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
I probably have quite a few OCs in my random collection who mostly deal with a lot of traumas, issues and other problems that people deal with on a daily basis.. So I will definitely be tagging said triggers and so on in case it affects people in any way..
Of course not all of my OCs have terrible habits/issues so hoping I won't make too much of a conundrum when I post my others I have coming soon or in need or re-designing.. Ngl Besides the art I have got already, I don't really have all that much to post minus the other doodles and drawings I've done of my previously posted OCs...
I don't always draw many consistently and that sucks cuz I really wanna do more for them if I want to keep a system going on of course.. Oh well..
That's it I guess-
. Alyssa, Art © Me . DON’T RE-POST .
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onlythebravest · 1 year
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#tw sick parent figure + tw sick parent when i was younger (sick-sick)#seriously don't read this it's just me rambling#i just write it here bc i don't want to bother people by saying the same thing over and over and over#bc it's nothing new to be said. i just need to get it out yet another time#i hope this drowns in all the louis posts so i can just send this into the void 😂#i've been home for less than 24 hours and i already don't want to be here. it already sucks#i guess in a way it's good bc now i can help but it really sucks and idk how to handle everything#and on top of that my therapist continues to be sick so i don't even have someone to talk to about all of this and it just sits in my head#he is already back at the hospital which makes me just remember all the times my mom went in and out of the hospital when i was younger#well good thing here is that they have something that they now can treat even if they don't know it that's actual cause of not#but doesn't help with all my thoughts about how bad shit is and how it reminds me of my mom and how i can't handle any of this#and am instead rambling in some tags in a tumblr post#i wish i could just shut down all the emotions until he's all better and we don't have to worry anymore and everything is fine again#bc this sucks#i don't want to do this anymore#and i'm sure it's barely begun#bc why would it be easily treatable? that would be a miracle and i don't believe in miracles#life sucks and i really wish it didn't#if you’re down here then that’s impressive bc I wouldn’t be able to read this since it’s just a block of text without any real sentences 😂#and yeah this is just me screaming into the void#don't worry about it i'll be fine
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astrogenica · 1 month
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being plural is honestly a wild experience because every time i think i understand whats going on in here i come to find out something even weirder than before and like. im not even mad at this point it's just like can someone just tell me what's going on instead of letting me piece it together on my own?? can somebody in here gimme a goddamn hand???? creepy ass motherfuckers doing shit in the background and whisper whispering in my ear until i Realize IS NOT AN EFFICIENT MEANS OF COMMUNICATION. USE YOUR WORDS SPEAK WITH YOUR WHOLE CHEST goddamn!
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jinxy · 3 months
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i feel like i gotta just totally disengage from anything current for a while to retain my sanity. i need to work on my backlog of everything and my academics like I live in a cave and i have no idea what the word “instagram” means
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acaiyatree · 11 months
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tiktok peope stop being dense as hell challenge
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folkwhoredoll · 28 days
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mutual frustrations - rafe cameron x fem!reader
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
synopsis: keeping your temper and hormones in control is neither yours nor your boyfriend's strength
word count: 1.6k
warnings/tags: smut! (f masturbation, fingering, voyeurism/exhibitionism), slight dom!bf rafe
a/n: hi everyone! thank you so so much for everyone's support on my recent works. i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!
masterlist
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
"What the hell is your problem, huh?"
Rafe had been frustrated all day. His dad had been yelling at him since early morning, Barry wouldn't stop calling him, and a brief fight with his sister for running off with her Pogue friends had pushed him to the edge. It didn't help that you had been snappy all day, either. It started with your short and sarcastic replies to his questions, and he grew tired of seeing your eyes roll and your deep sighs.
Truth be told, you weren't doing it on purpose. You were just craving his attention, and your frustration over his frequent disappearances to whatever business he had to attend to was carelessly reflected through your actions.
"Seriously! Where did this attitude come from?" he said, raising his voice slightly but not yelling.
"Well, I wouldn't have a problem if you just noticed me, Rafe!" You grumbled.
"Are you fucking joking? I have literally been talking to you, but you were the one who refused to answer me properly!" Rafe seethed.
"Oh, please. The first time that you acknowledged my presence was an hour ago. I have been here since morning!" You defended yourself, remembering how you initially went over to his place to bond with each other, but he was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he walked past you several times without realizing it.
Rafe inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. "You know what? Whatever. I've had a long day and don't need any of this right now."
Your face was starting to feel hot as you felt your anger grow. Suddenly, his huge bedroom felt small as your chest tightened. "That's it? You're going to push me away again? What the fuck am I to you, Rafe? Do I even mean anything to you?"
"You're pulling this shit right now?" He growled, brows furrowing as he looked at you with darkened eyes. "If you mean nothing to me, I wouldn't even look at you."
Rafe started to walk closer to you slowly, cornering you until the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed. His face lowered to your level, with a threatening look on his face.
"But guess what, princess? Here I am, still tolerating your goddamn bratty attitude." He said lowly.
You could feel his radiating anger, making you gulp as you think of whether or not you should still say something as words die at the back of your throat. Despite your own displeasure, your boyfriend's dangerous face made you gulp. And unsurprisingly, you liked it. You liked it so much that Rafe did not miss your subtle attempt to push your thighs together.
He chuckled darkly. "So that's your problem then, hm? You're fucking horny."
You felt your breath hitch, mouth open, as you quickly thought of an excuse. As expected, you came up with nothing, leading Rafe to shake his head in amusement.
"You could've just told me, baby. I'd drop anything to make you feel good." Upon hearing his words, your eyes lit up hopefully. You started to feel excited until Rafe walked beside you to sit on the bed, harshly pulling you towards him so you were entirely situated on his lap. "But you decided to act like a fucking brat instead, and I can't have that, can I?"
Your boyfriend hastily grabbed the back of your neck, pushing your face towards his to kiss you roughly before you could react. Rafe kissed you with passion, forcefully separating your lips with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, hips starting to grind against clothed crotch.
Unbeknownst to you, he was already plotting what he could do to punish you. And you only realized that after you felt his lips travel to your neck.
"More, Rafe. Please fuck me." You gasped upon feeling him slightly bite your skin.
"No." He replied bluntly, pulling away to meet your gaze with a smirk. "You really think I'm gonna fuck you after what you did?"
"W-what?" You asked, visibly confused.
"Oh, baby. You should've seen your punishment coming." He taunted, shifting your positions so that he was standing again and you were lying on the bed. "You won't be getting my dick tonight. If you wanna come, do it yourself."
Your mouth was open in shock as you processed his words, frustration building up again. "Are you kidding me? Fuck me."
"You're in no position to order me, darling. Make yourself come right now, or I'll extend your punishment for a week. We both know you can't go that long without my dick."
If you weren't horny, you would have slapped Rafe's smirk off of his face. But you were desperate; your hormones heightened after making out with him. You groaned, tilting your head back, figuring that making yourself cum without his cock is much better than not being able to cum at all.
"Go on, baby. Take off your clothes; I wanna watch."
Grunting, you briefly sat up to remove your clothes individually as Rafe stepped back to watch you. You kept eye contact with him as you took off your bra and underwear, smirking when you saw his eyes hungrily scan your hardening nipples down to your inner thighs.
 "You can touch me, Rafey." You attempted to persuade him with a sweet smile, but he knew better.
"Nice try, sweetheart. But you should know by now that that won't work for me. Now lay back and spread those legs."
You followed his instruction, positioning yourself so that you're laterally positioned on his bed. Rafe moved to his small couch across the room, observing your movements like a hawk.
"Like this?" You teased him, lifting your leg and spreading your thighs apart, giving him a perfect view of your plump breasts and wet slit.
Rafe could feel his cock growing harder and harder with each second. He wanted nothing more than to ruin you at that moment, your pussy tempting him to cum inside. But he prevented himself, knowing he had to let you know who was in control.
"Mhm. Now play with your tits. Don't stop until your nipples are hard." He said, watching as you slowly moved your hands up to massage your breasts. You moaned with each stroke, your thumb toying specifically with your nipples until they perk. "Good job, baby. Now remove one hand and touch your pussy. Don't insert a finger yet."
You followed again, one hand trailing down to your stomach until your fingertips touched your outer walls. You gasped loudly, turned on from your own wetness. "Rafey."
Rafe savored your moans, eyes not leaving your womanhood. "Spread your walls for me. I want to see that pretty cunt."
You obeyed, letting out a deep breath as you used two fingers to separate your walls, giving Rafe a fantastic view of your delicious cunt. "Want to come, Rafe? Please."
"You will. Just be patient, alright?" He cooed. "Insert one of your fingers."
You slowly push one finger into your pussy, having no difficulty in doing so because you're too soaked.
"Add another one. Go on, sweetheart. You know your spot." Rafe urged you, proud that you were doing so well for him. "Curl your fingers in. That's it."
"Fuck!" You screamed in sudden pleasure, letting Rafe know that you were able to find your G-spot. "Wish this were your fingers."
"I know, baby. I do, too, but you need to learn your lesson. Now make yourself come."
You whined upon hearing his words, pumping your fingers faster while continuing to massage your breasts. You were becoming desperate for a release, and Rafe's hungry smirk gave you enough motivation. If you couldn't have his dick, you would at least give him a proper show.
You were a moaning mess in front of him, and he loved every moment of it. Your continuous mumbles of his name increased his ego, knowing that you would never be able to satisfy yourself like he does.
The sound of your wetness as you fingered yourself was like music to his ears. And before he could think about what he was doing, he found himself in front of you, absentmindedly reaching forward to place his thumb on your clit.
"Oh!" You screamed upon contact, your hips slightly rising. Rafe couldn't avert his eyes from your pussy. He groaned at the sight of both of your fingers playing with your cunt, your walls visibly pulsating as you chased your own release.
"That's it. Be a good girl and come on my fingers."
"Yes, yes, yes." The exact words left your mouth as you felt your mind go blank, overwhelmed with nothing but pleasure. You continued to fuck yourself as Rafe toyed with your clit faster. "Fuck, Rafe. I'm going to cum."
"Go ahead, pretty girl. Give it to me." Rafe's cock was aching so much, and he felt like he was about to lose control. And he knew he did, when his mouth let out his most wanted thought. "Come for me. Come for me, and I'll give you my dick."
Hearing those words made something snap in you, making you release in an instant. You squirted around your fingers as he remained touching your clit, your thighs shaking from the orgasm that was taking over your body.
Rafe grunted at the scene. "Good job." He softly grabbed your fingers away from your pussy before wiping the sweat off of your forehead. "You did good, baby."
You were still catching your breath when you felt him kiss your forehead softly.
"Now I believe I owe you my cock?"
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lizthewriter · 3 months
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get him back! / theodore nott
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PAIRING  theodore nott x fem!reader
SUMMARY  after playboy mattheo riddle dumps you for another girl, your best friend motivates you to get the best revenge - be the girl he would always want, but could never have. you take things to the extreme when theodore nott offers you a deal you can't say no to.
TAGS  theodore nott x fem!reader, past!mattheo riddle x fem!reader, modern!au, university!au, ginny is your best friend, fake dating, college parties, gluna / linny, part 2?
QUOTE  "yeah i pour my little heart out, / but as i'm hitting send, / i picture all the faces of my dissappointed friends, / because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do, / he said i was the only girl but that just wasn't the truth," - get him back! by olivia rodrigo
WORD COUNT 2.2K
WRITTEN  12.15.2023
hey, mattheo, how are you? i know it's been a while but i thought i'd -
No. What the hell are you doing? You hold the backspace, watching as the words you had just typed out disappeared. This was ridiculous - you couldn't keep doing this. Ginny would be so dissappointed in you. He had cheated on you, multiple times. He had spent all his time flirting with other girls. He lied to you and then his apologies were just fancy, elaborate gifts soaked in wealth and champagne. How could you still want him, need him, so viscerally?
"What are you doing?" You threw your phone over to your bed and turned around to face Ginny with a sickeningly-sweet grin.
"What? Nothing," you responded innocently. She narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion and made her way over to your bed, picking up your phone and glancing at the screen. You had forgotten to turn it off. Shit.
"Oh come on, seriously? Riddle? That douchebag?" She asked incredulously, sending you one of her famous looks of dissappointment. You got up and snatched your phone from her hand, only to crash on your bed.
"I know, I know," you responded with whine. "And I hate him too . . . but I miss him." You snatched one of your pillows and planted your face into it. The muffled scream was still louder than it ought to be, making Ginny cringe, but still rather satisfying. You let out a huff of breath. "I don't know what to do. I want to punch him in the face but at the same time . . . I want to kiss his stupid fucking face. That piece of shit."
You stared at his picture and let out a sigh. He was so damn complicated.
Ginny snatched your phone from you yet again. "All right, here's what we're going to do. We're going to come up with a plan to make Mattheo Riddle the most jealous man on the planet and in the process, find you someone new and much better. All right?"
You groaned. The thought of it sounded exhausted, but even you had to admit that there was a certain appeal to showing up at some party he was at, dressed to the nines, and bringing home another guy all while he watched. You sat up and stared at Ginny, before hesitantly saying, ". . . Go on."
-
"I know darling it's upsetting, darling, but . . . you're just not my kind of girl."
The words rang out in your head as you stood before a large mansion belonging to one of the many wealthy students at your campus. Cars were parked around the enormous driveway and the music from inside was booming so loudly that your could feel your bones vibrate with the beat.
Ginny slipped her arm through yours and flashed you one of her adventurous smiles. "Cheer up - you're going to be the prettiest girl they ever did see," Ginny said mockingly, pinching your cheeks. You barked out a laugh, playfully shoving her arm away.
"You sound like some posh grandma."
"But I'm your posh grandma," Ginny responded with a pout as you two began to climb the stone steps to the completely open front door. (I mean, seriously, who leaves the door to their house open? It's like they're asking to be robbed.)
The music steadily became louder upon approach, making it almost impossible to hear your own voice as you entered. The sleek wooden floors were bathed in a variety of disco lights, an odd contrast in comparison to the lovely home that looked like it belonged to some stuffy old Oxford professor.
"Hello ladies," said a jubilant man leaning against the doorframe leading to the foyer. He looked Ginny up and down before pushing himself off the wall and approaching Ginny. "Lovely to see you again." He sent a wink Ginny's way, which she responded to with a playful roll of her eyes. You finally recognized him - he was a sports major, friends with some of her older brothers. Lee, you remembered his name was. He was a flirt - he had tried with you once, when you were with Mattheo. It didn't end so well for him.
"I'm glad to see your nose is doing better, Jordan," you spoked with a friendly smile.
He pinched it and then looked down at his hand. "Good as new, I suppose, but there's still a scar on my heart," he claimed dramatically, walking wistfully away with the expression of a lovelorn, heartbroken lead in a Victorian drama. You and Ginny giggled and delved further into the lion's den. Numerous people greeted you, but especially Ginny (she had always been the popular one). A paticular boy, Harry, had his eye on her for quite some time. You wouldn't be one to say he was unattractive - he was fairly pretty. He was a Criminal Justice major and a pretty nice guy from your understanding. But you knew Ginny wasn't interested.
When Ginny stopped walking, you did too, as your arms were intertwined. You followed her line of sight and smirked at what - well, who - she was staring at. A wistfully odd girl with pale blonde hair down to her waist and an odd sort of dress adorning her body. People gave her odd looks, whispering to their friends. Why is she here? No one likes her.
You nudged Ginny multiple times to grab her attention once more. "Hey, you can go on without me. I'll be fine."
"What? No! I'm not abandoning you, you're my best friend and -"
"Go," you insisted. "I promise, I'll be fine."
She looked rather torn, glancing between the two of you before stomping her feet and letting out a groan. "I hate you," she whined.
"I hate you too," you responded with a grin. You turned her around, your hands on her shoulders, and pushed in her in the general direction of one eccentric Luna Lovegood. "Now go! Don't worry about me, we've been planning this for days!"
"Good luck!" She shouted at you before she disappeared into the sea of people. A few moments later, after much difficultly trying to see her, you saw her chatting up the girl. All right, my turn, you thought.
You scoured the room - you wouldn't say you were the most introverted person in the world, but you definitely weren't the most outgoing either. You needed to find someone who would really pull at Mattheo's nerves, make those prominent veins pop out of his head. You wanted him to feel the anger and the pain that you felt. You wanted to get him back!
There was no one on the bottom floor that caught your eye, so you climbed the stairs to where the more . . . elegant students were. (Rich, more like.)
They weren't anymore sophisticated than the people downstairs, but there was still that air of refinement that made you feel slightly out of place. You wandered around the many rooms for a bit before you found a kitchen (they had one upstairs and downstairs?) Grabbing a drink, you wandered around some more, making friendly conversations with some of your peers. As you were talking with Neville, a very kind boy from one of your general education courses, someone in paticular caught your eye and everything clicked.
Theodore Nott. He was the son to a rather rich Italian man, the CEO of one of the most well-known designer shoe brands in Europe. His mother died rather unfortunately of illness at a young age. He's been very prominent, especially in recent years. He's been a model for his father's company, he was in the top 5% of your class, and he's - well - he's known as the most handsome boy in your year.
You definitely weren't going to deny that - he was drop-dead gorgeous. His eyes were so . . . alluring. Dark and sexy, a pool of emotions shrouded by mystery. Okay, so maybe you were going far too overboard with your description of him, but for the love of God, was he attractive.
Somehow, he could feel your gaze upon him. He had been sitting on a couch, telling a story to a tight-knit group of friends, Mattheo included you noticed, that you had taken your eyes off of him. You felt embarrassed, pretended to look around the room, and then turned your attention back towards Neville with an encouraging smile that pretended that you had been listening to him rant all along.
"Excuse me," you heard Nott say, standing up from the couch. The champagne flute in his hand was rather empty so you deduced that he was probably going to go fill it. An educated guess, but an incorrect one. He did something you never expected. He approached you.
"Longbottom, I hear Greengrass has a question about a Geo-sci class you two share. She seemed rather distressed by it. I'm sure she'd appreciate your help," Theo told Neville - you glanced at Daphne Greengrass. She looked nowhere near distressed, but Neville perked up in excitement.
"R-really?" He asked nervously, wringing his hands. He gave you a sheepish smile. "Talk to you later, I've got to go help Daphne."
"Yeah, see you later Nev," you replied. Nott looked down at you for a moment before raising his glass.
"It seems we're both in need of a refill. Care to join me?" His expression was nothing more than emotionless, except perhaps the tiniest smirk that remained upon those rose-dusted lips. You shrugged nonchalantly, only just noticing the vacancy in your glass.
"Sure, why not?"
You followed a quite Theodore Nott to the kitchen again, where he poured himself champagne from a very specialized fridge unit filled with distinguished bottles of liquor - merlot and pinot noir and all those fancy alcohols you would have assumed people like him drank. He silently offered you some by tipping the bottle towards you. You offered him your glass, which he poured a fair amount in, not too much, not too little. Just right.
"I'm suprised to see you here."
You arched a brow in response as he took a light sip from the flute resting in a delicate balance between his two fingers. Precariously, a smile dained your face. "And why is that?"
"Your Riddle's ex-girl, aren't you?"
He asked in such a way that seemed as though he didn't care much at all.
The smile from your face disappeared, replaced by something much more bitter. You shrugged, but the action was much more passive-agressive than you had intended it to be. "So what? Does that mean something to you?"
He placed the flute down, the glass clinking against the marble countertop. "Riddle and I have a . . . complicated relationship."
"You mean, your dear old daddies are both relevant, rival shoe designers?" You said it so innocently. Nott smirked at you.
"Yeah, something like that. Listen," he leaned in close to you, leaning his arms against the counter in an attempt to lower himself to your level. He was rather lanky and tall, which you supposed was good for a model, but hard for when you want to actually talk to him. "You and I both want something from him."
"And what's that, Nott?" You asked with mock curiosity, placing your chin in the palm of your hands with a tilt of your head.
"Well, let's just say you didn't come here tonight, dressed like that, in the hopes that he would fuck you," he responded, quite bluntly. Well, you supposed that sort of honesty was an inherited trait. "Everyone knows what went down between you two - he aired out your dirty laundry for all to see. No, you came back here to get revenge."
"Astute," you said with a tone of disdain. Taking a sip of your champagne, you found that it actually had a much more delightful taste than any other alcohol you had. You smacked down the glass on the countertop. "Really, Nott, thanks for that." You began to leave but Theo grabbed you by the arm.
"Wait! Just . . . listen," he said, panting slightly. His brows were scrunchdd together in frustration - he seemed genuinely distressed. The only reason you stayed was because you realized something rather odd.
You turned towards him with furrowed brows. "Is Theodore Nott . . . desperate for something?" You asked with a disbelieving scoff. At the sight of his jaw clenching, his eyes avoiding yours, you let out a shocked laugh.
"Shut it," he muttered, sending you a dark glare.
"Now that's certainly out of character," you said, slugging off his iron grip. "All right, you've got my attention. What is it?"
"My father's been trying to score one over Riddle for years. Rumor is Mattheo's father wants him to marry a good woman, someone that won't tarnish his son's so-called good reputation. And well, you . . . slipped through his fingers like sand. Stealing him from you would make my father more . . . proud."
You crinkled up your nose. "You're not proposing to me, are you? Cause the answer is no."
"No, no. I'm just asking you to date me, at least for a bit."
The sound of it seemed ridiculous, but then you thought - you were both getting something out of it. It was nothing more than a partnership, and a good one at that. Either way, you'd be pulling one over Mattheo and that would be good enough for you.
"How much is 'for a bit'?"
-
"Everyone." Theo had walked back into the room, you snuggled comfortably into his arms. He had tapped a fork against his glass, gathering the attention of his friends. Mattheo's jaw dropped, the hand swung around some girl you had seen around slithering it's way back to his side. "I want to introduce you to my girlfriend."
That's right, you smug snake. I win.
part two coming soon . . . <3
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medicinemane · 1 year
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Can I make a small request that people not recommend that I get professional help, because as I've said on numerous occasions there's reasons why I can't
The largest one being that the nearest town with a therapist is quite far from me in every direction, which means a lot of gas money, but also given one of my big complaints is how much leaving town takes out of me... you might be able to see why I don't want to add more trips
I have a plan brewing for how to maybe find one who does teleappointments that would be covered for me, but it takes me a long time to get stuff done
Also to be blunt having a therapist isn't as important as everyone seems to think it is. I've been in therapy for many years, I even once had one who was a great fit and helped me a ton, so I know where I'm coming from here
I think pretty much all my therapist would back me up on this when I say therapy is a resource, not a cure
I think even some of my poor fit therapists would be able to help me out a lot more now than they were at the time when I had them, cause back then I was well and truly stuck and what changed wasn't me but my situation, where as now I'm a lot more in control of things meaning they could help a lot more
But like... they aren't going to just make the not enjoying life go away. They aren't going to just fix that stuff, and contrary to what you might think or see, I'm slowly working on things in my own way on my own time, I just also feel like stating what's on my mind and stating it bluntly
It gets so tiresome and so dismissive just being told to get help, at least it does when I keep keep keep explaining myself over and over, I've said similar to this before now, especially about the distance to other towns
I don't mean to be rude, but it would be more helpful to just let me be than to say the words "get help" again as if that does anything
If you can get me in with a therapist who is covered for me and who meets my needs, lets talk, but otherwise please just leave it
You don't mean it this way, but it starts to get insulting, and I've heard it so many times over the years. It makes me feel like people aren't listening at all and it's very frustrating
Either trust me to handle my shit like I always do, find dealing with my depression overwhelming and unfollow with zero hard feelings and total welcome to keep talking with me (but not seeing my depressing posts anymore), offer me an actual solution to my problems or like... you know... anything other that just advice, or... you know... keep going with throwing the get professional help out no matter what I say
I don't mean to be mean, I don't mean to be rude, I just... I don't know what it takes to get this through to people, because apparently literally explaining it in detail why it doesn't help and why I literally can't get help right now... doesn't work
So give me the magic solution I haven't thought of despite knowing my situation better than anyone else, or just let me be cause like... I don't want to toss threats around about stuff that's obviously well intentioned, but this has been going on for so many years with some many people... I don't know what to do, it's getting to the point where I'm thinking "do I just need to block people who say that cause they don't listen?"
So that's my stance
It's way too many words as usual, but it's me fuckin begging to just let me handle my shit on my own, to not tell me to get help unless you also are giving me a referral to someone covered who fits my requirements, and to just let me saying I'm fucking not doing well on my own blog
I'm literally just sayin what's on my mind, can I please just have that? Like... please?
This is maybe the final warning, what comes if someone I've said this to does it again... I don't know, I don't wanna do shit, but like... I'm begging, enough
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i23kazu · 5 months
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♡ GENSHIN MEN & STUDYING WITH YOU
characters. xiao diluc kaeya childe wriothesley lyney alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. i need motivation. they are my motivation | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
xiao
he's the one who's a all the noise-cancellation, blacklisted apps kind of student. everything is on lockdown and on do not disturb mode – please don't disturb him. poke him with your pen and you'll just see him roll his eyes at you– no, seriously- it's not worth it! however, xiao is also a really good student ; always on task, even on the subjects that he absolutely despises. ask him to tutor you and he might grumble and groan, but what happens when the tutor falls in love with his student?
diluc
possibly the class rep. studying with him is a express ticket to resources that teachers had given him because of his high-class status. he's not proud of it – he believes that each student deserves the chance to have the same access as him – which is why he's willing to share it with you as well. we didn't even have to meet up, you could just have sent it over- you whine, but the tinge of crimson on his cheeks is a telltale sign that perhaps he needed- no, wanted, this excuse.
kaeya
the teasy study buddy. watch him annoy the hell out of you– you know he's teasing, but sometimes it hurts. "haha, i thought i taught you this already? does the little bunny not have enough space in there?" he taps your head with his pen. it's only when your face crumples and you start to mumble out apologies, teardrops cockling your paper – that he panics. "shit- i'm sorry– how can i make it better?" he wipes your tears away. he makes it up with a sweet kiss and a stack of gift cards to your favourite cafes.
childe
he's the friend who keeps you going, truly. if sunshine was bottled up and wrapped with a bow and had an orange cap, it would be childe! watching your face fall after staring at algebra simply won't do, no, no. let him lead you as he tugs on your hands outside of the study room, and just let your feet follow in his footsteps – you'll find yourself outside the library cafe. "alright, it's on me! what do you want?" maybe his wallet is a little lighter, but so is his heart, once he sees your face light up.
wriothesley
wriothesley is the one who has it all planned out. first, you'll start studying at 10pm... which is a little late, but it's alright. you'll get tired around midnight, which will be when he offers you the first cup of chamomile. "won't this put me to sleep?" you whine, accepting it from him anyways. he chuckles and runs his hands through your hair, replying that it's never worked on him. true enough, you start getting sleepy around half past one – finally leaning against his shoulder, your arms going slack. kissing your head, he drapes a blanket around you. good night, (y/n).
lyney
the one who sits besides you, cracking jokes every now and then! but when it's time to study, he can buckle down and start doing work –that's just lyney – the human on and off switch. there's something about him doing work while twirling his poker cards in his hands that's just so mesmerising – a stare too long catches his eye, and he starts doing a trick for you. get back to work!, you laugh and playfully swat his shoulder, turning back to your own paper. he chuckles in return, and unbeknownst to you, turns back with a smile.
alhaitham
alhaitham can be stricter as a study buddy – he's stern with distractions, wanting you to keep your phone to the side as he's explaining concepts – yes, concepts you learnt, but never understood. "hey, eyes here. did you understand, or do i need to go through it again?" he sounds bored, and you feel sorry for him. you mumble a soft i understand back, and he sighs and tells you to take a break. "look up." your eyes trail up from your phone, and instinctively close as he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.
taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz @rin-nyrasti-writes @mxyarylla (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)
reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)
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rustedhearts · 1 month
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just friends (roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader)
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summary: you and steve have been just friends for years now. but how long can you convince everyone you're 'just friends' before it becomes a lie? or steve harrington is your super hot roommate and everyone thinks it's stupid you guys aren't dating yet.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
✶ the library
tags: roommate!steve, kinda shitty boyfriend!eddie, pining, fluff, angst, casual dominance from our casual dominance king steve, honestly going to try so hard not to make this a series but you know me.
a/n: i've wanted to write roommate!steve for so ages. you can thank a much-needed new girl binge and my tendency to take my frustration out on my mop for this.
The bass-heavy bump of music came at Steve full force before he even stepped out of the elevator. He paused, staring down the door of your shared apartment knowing that the sight that would welcome him would not be pretty.
In the kitchen, you were hunched over the handle of a mop, furiously dragging it over a sliver of tile. Teeth gritted together, face flushed and damp with sweat, hair disheveled and pulled away from your face, a pair of cotton shorts and an old t-shirt rolled up to the shoulders—you were a mess.
You were sad.
"Uh-oh." Steve stepped into the room, calling over the booming music. "What happened?"
You jumped a little, accustomed to the quiet of the apartment on Saturday nights. Steve almost always spent weekend nights at the bar down the street hitting on girls too sweet for him. You usually had until at least 11:30 to do whatever you wanted before some random girl came scampering in, clinging to Steve and giggling as they fumbled to his room.
But he was home early. And no matter how long you'd lived together, or how well he knew you, you still hated being seen like this.
So, you never took your eyes off the mop, scrubbing away a sauce stain on the tile.
"Nothing." You shrugged, flicking wisps of hair out of your eyes.
Steve watched you whirl around to drag the mop toward the bucket again. You stabbed it into the soapy water with a vengeance, nose scrunching with every slosh and splash. Steve leaned against the doorway and quirked a brow.
"Yeah? You're playing your sad music, though."
Your sad music consisted of a handful of hard rock records that most people would consider music for a dive bar—but you only ever played it when you were staving off tears. The louder you played it, the more upset you were.
Steve knew you a little too well.
This comment went ignored as you slapped the mop back on the floor and continued an angered scrubbing. Steve sighed, scratching at his temple. Most of the time, it was best to leave you alone. Sometimes, you needed to talk it out. It took a little coaxing—a pizza and a cold glass of Coke with a straw usually did the trick—but eventually, you'd spill.
And Steve would fix it.
Calm you down, help you figure it out, offer some advice. He gave pretty good advice for someone still struggling to get his own shit figured out.
Steve could tell from the way the song went unsung, the way you huffed every time the mop head flipped, the way you started stomping your foot when you found a stale French fry under the stove—you needed him to step in.
Pushing off the wall, Steve crossed the room and placed his hand over yours on the mop handle.
"Hey. Hey, come on."
You struggled at first, scowling at him as you tugged on the handle. "Stop it."
He sighed again. He was always sighing at you like a disappointed teacher.
"Hey." A little firmer this time, accompanied by a sharp snatch of the handle from your grasp into his. When you dropped your hands and obliged, the furrow of his brow relaxed. "Thank you. Now, why don't you go take a shower. The house is clean enough."
You frowned, wiping at the sweat on your head. "I just—"
Steve pressed his hand flat into the small of your back, steering you toward the door. "Seriously, honey, it's fine. You do stink, though."
That made your lip twitch—a semblance of a smile—with an amused little huff. You took a step toward the door, slippered feet scuffing. You looked over your shoulder toward Steve standing where you left him, still holding the mop.
He waved you off. "Go on. Take a nap, too.”
You nodded, flashing a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks, Steve."
He watched you shuffle away, shoulders slumped and eyes down as you went. He propped the mop against the kitchen counter and shook his head at the mess of cleaning supplies on the table.
When he heard the bathroom door clamp shut and the hiss of the shower head turn on, Steve rushed the front door again.
He opened it a smidge, enough to fit his head in and smile sweetly at the girl waiting in the hall picking at her nails. She perked up, stepping toward the door eagerly.
"Hey," Steve cooed, voice dripping with honey. "I'm so sorry, my roommate got sick all over. I think s-he needs to go to the doctor, so...would you mind if we raincheck?"
The girl—Sarah, as he would recall later on—broke into a concerned pout, clasping her hands over her chest. "Oh my god, that's terrible! You're so sweet taking care of him."
Steve chuckled, a breezy smile on his mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for understanding."
She tipped her head, adjusting the purse strap on her shoulder. "Of course. Call me when he's feeling better?"
Steve nodded, knowing the phone number in his back pocket would dissolve in the washer in a week, and he had no intention of ever calling her to begin with.
"Yeah, for sure. Night."
"Goodnight."
He waited until the elevator dinged, watching the doors close on her grinning face, before pulling back into the apartment and locking the door. He blew a sigh out of his cheeks, head shaking as he headed toward the hall.
The shower had stopped, and he could hear the soft, wet patters of your feet behind the door when he leaned against the wall beside it. He knocked two knuckles gently into the wood.
"Honey?" he called. "Need anything? Wanna order a pizza?"
He waited, adjusting the hem of his shirt to spread out a wrinkle in the fabric. He knew what the answer would be, but he couldn't always be so obvious. He had to pretend that he didn't know you like the back of his hand, because everyone started telling him how weird it was.
"You've lived with this girl for two years and haven't boned? You're either gay or dumb as a box of fuckin' rocks," is what Max told him when they met for lunch a few months ago.
Everyone said the same thing. His sister, who teased him at birthday parties and summer barbecues that you were always his date for. Sabrina did everything in her power to push the two of you closer together at family events, ensuring your seats were always paired and your activities were always coupled up.
"You look at her like a dog with a bone," she teased last Fourth of July.
But Steve only shook his head, glancing your way where you were helping his mother decorate cupcakes. You were dating some guy in IT at the time. Total fucking nerd. He made you pay for most of the dates.
"Nah...we're just friends. She's got a boyfriend."
We're just friends was probably Steve's most popular sentence in the English language since the day he met you. A pair of college graduates who had no clue what the hell they were supposed to do with their lives, roommate-matched by the apartment complex and so content with each other that you just kept renewing the lease.
When you finally replied to his question, your voice came like a small, pipping whisper behind the door. "Yeah...but with mushrooms this time?"
This time, as if you didn't order a mushroom and sausage pizza every time. Steve smiled, pushing off the wall.
"Okay—"
"And—"
"And sausage, I know. I'll call 'em."
"Okay."
While Steve called the pizza place a few blocks over, you clutched a towel to your chest and padded to your room. You pulled on the softest items you owned and sat on the end of your bed. A long day of cleaning certainly tired you out, but that wasn't what ailed you.
It was the fight with your boyfriend last night at the bar, when he yelled at you for laughing at Steve's jokes even though you always did. He thought you were too close, too "chummy" to be just friends.
Unbeknownst to Steve, we're just friends was one of your most common phrases, too. You should've had it engraved on your forehead at this point.
"Hey." Two knuckles on your door this time before it skittered open. Steve popped his head in and grinned at you. "Wearin' my favorite sweatpants? Must be feelin' better."
You glanced down at the black sweatpants on your legs, snickering softly. Steve thought they hugged your ass perfectly, and loved the way they flared at the calves. The logo right on your left ass cheek was especially beautiful.
When you opted to leave that soft noise as your reply, Steve stepped into the room. He flopped beside you on the bed, springs squeaking shrilly.
"Wanna talk about it?" he asked.
You shook your head down at your lap, rubbing at your eye. You hated crying, and so far today you'd been doing well swallowing them down. Steve had only seen you cry once, and you avoided him for three days after.
Something about vulnerability made you cower.
"Okay...wanna watch a movie?"
You sighed, shifting a little away from him. Steve clocked it with a brow-furrowed frown.
"Steve...you don't have to make me feel better. I'm fine."
His lips parted to reply—most likely in protest—but the door chittered on its hinges once more with the small butted head of your tuxedo cat, Ted.
Steve immediately stood and scooped Ted up, turning to bring him to the bed. He scratched under his chin and brought forth a low humming purr immediately.
Not even cats could resist that pretty boy charm.
"Well, I reckon this lil guy will do a better job of cheerin' you up," Steve cooed, plopping Ted beside you.
A quiet giggle slipped from your mouth as you reached to swoop his tail. "Reckon?"
Steve shrugged, a sheepish grin on his mouth. "Just came out. I turn Southern in a crisis, darlin'."
He was just trying to make you laugh now, and he couldn't help but mirror the sound when it proved effective. Though, it also proved temporary. You soon settled on your side, tugging Ted to your chest with a fading smile.
Steve ran his fingers through his hair, gathering a chunk of it at the top to pull. A stress tick. You tried not to feel guilty for causing it.
"Well...alright." Steve shuffled backward toward the door. "Pizza in fifteen."
You nodded into the pillow. "Okay. Thanks."
Steve lingered a beat too long, eyeing your balled up form on the bed before slipping into the hall. You'd been sad plenty times over the years: breakups, let-downs, missed jobs.
But the guy you were dating now...you really seemed to like him. He was over all the time, practically living here at one point. Steve didn't really understand what you saw in the guy—Eddie. Steve scoffed to himself, head shaking. Stupid name.
You met Eddie at the auto shop where he worked. He gave you a discount on your oil change, and his tire talk was so smooth that you went on a date two days later. Six months later, and things still seemed to be going smoothly despite the pair of you having very little in common.
Usually, you dated harmless little nerdy guys. Steve actually laughed in the face of a five foot eight finance bro who threatened to "hurt him real bad" if he got in the way of your relationship. You dumped him that night, and the pair of you still laugh about it to this day.
But Eddie was...different. Sleeves of dark ink and a chainlink on his belt. A handful of chunky silver rings and another one in his nose. He always clinked in with a nod Steve's way and a hand on your ass, and it seemed that every time he kissed you in front of Steve, he looked him right in the eye while he did it.
Steve didn't like how small you made yourself around Eddie, and he didn't like how much Eddie seemed to enjoy it.
For everyone's sake, he hoped it wasn't Eddie that made you sad. For once, he wasn't sure he'd win that fight.
✶ ✶
There were many things about your behavior that night that concerned Steve.
Number 1: You only ate three pieces of pizza, and he got one small mushroom-sausage with extra cheese just for you.
Number 2: You didn't let Ted in when he scratched at your door, and Steve had to bring him to his own room for bed.
But worst of all.
Number 3: You didn't say goodnight.
So, Steve went to bed with Ted curled at his feet and a lump in his throat. Whatever you were upset about was bad, he could just tell; and everything in him was itching to make it better. He had this terrible, stupid ache to make life easy for you, and it never really went away.
He opened all your jars, refilled all your water bottles, made sure your phone was charged when he saw the little red bar. He bought more of your favorite snacks when he saw them running low, picked up things that "felt like you" when he saw them at the store. You had an abundance of miscellaneous yellow items sitting on your windowsill because you told him it was your favorite color two years ago.
In Steve's eyes, everything yellow in the world belonged to you.
Steve stirred in a half sleep for hours, kicking at his covers and offering murmured apologies to a miffed Ted who meowed at him. His concerns, however, came to a head when the sound of muffled shouting startled him completely awake.
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and tapped the screen, rubbing his eyes clear to read the 1:15. He wondered which couple in the building was fighting this late. His bet was on Jax and Monica in 1F who were always on the outs.
"You think I'm a fuckin' idiot? I see the way he looks at you!"
But that was Eddie's voice.
"I don't understand where this is coming from."
And that was yours.
Steve shot up, fumbling for his glasses in their case somewhere in his nightstand drawer. He shoved them over his eyes, swinging his legs over the bed.
"I'm tired of competing with your fucking roommate."
"You don't—you aren't! Eddie, please, you know we're just friends."
"Spare me. You're a shitty liar. Hey! C'mere, I'm not done talkin'."
Oh, hell no. Pants abandoned, Steve swung his door open with banging force and rushed into the hall.
He found the pair of you in the entryway, Eddie's hand around your arm and your cheeks soaked with tears. You still had your pajamas on, and those little yellow slippers Steve bought for you last Christmas.
Both heads turned when Steve hurried into the room, tailed by a confused Ted butting at his leg.
Eddie huffed, motioning toward Steve. "Oh, great, of course you're here."
Steve braced his hands on his hips, glaring at the raven-haired man. "I live here, dick-wad. Remove your hand."
Eddie ignored him, still wringing your arm out. You cast your eyes away from Steve, ashamed by the state he found you in.
"You live up my girlfriend's ass, Harrington. And I'm kinda tired of you being there all the fucking time."
"Remove. Your. Hand."
"Stop," you sniffled, wiping the tears from your cheeks though it wouldn't do much to hide the pink rims of your eyes. "Eddie, he's my friend."
"If he's gonna be your friend, then we're done."
You gaped up at him, more hot tears bubbling over and stinging your eyes. "W-what? Eddie, that's—"
Eddie shrugged, smug and uncaring. "You heard me."
Steve's eyes moved your way, and he could only stomach the absolute heartbreak on your face for a split second before he was stepping forward.
"Alright," he barked, and then he was shoving the arm Eddie was holding you with. "Let her go, Aerosmith, and get the fuck out."
Eddie let you go, but spun sharply to face Steve. You weren't sure whose glare was more frightening.
Eddie stepped until he was toe-to-toe with your roommate. "You like fuckin' another man's girl? You like my sloppy seconds, you pussy bit—"
Steve might not have been much of a fighter, certainly didn't fare well with a man who lifted cars for a living—but he certainly excelled at being discrete.
Which is how he got a right hook in before Eddie could fight back. Which is also how Eddie ended up on the ground, and unable to stand again for a few moments.
"Jesus, Steve," you scolded, peering down at your boyfriend with wide eyes. “You knocked him out!”
Steve cleared his throat, ignoring the buzzing pain in his knuckles as he swept them through his hair and motioned toward Eddie.
“Hm? Nah, honey, he’s just…he’s takin’ a nap.”
Though still numbed by shock and worry, you couldn’t help the amused snort that rippled through you. Steve’s lip quirked, and he glanced at Eddie when he groaned on the floor.
“Um, well…let’s get you up, bud. Yeah, you’re okay, c’mon.” Steve began talking to Eddie like a child, cooing as he helped him to his feet by the arm.
And maybe he wasn’t nice about walking him to the elevator, watching him crumble to the floor as the doors closed. Maybe the shiner swelling on Eddie’s cheek filled Steve with incredulous joy.
But he swallowed all of it down when he returned to the apartment and found you standing right where he left you. If you were ashamed of your tears this time, it didn’t show. You grew inconsolable, and Steve had no other thought in mind that didn’t involve picking you up and taking you back to bed.
So he did just that, letting you soak his bare chest with tears as he went. When he sat you on the bed, he tipped your head up by the chin and wiped your cheeks.
“He’s not comin’ back tonight, sweetheart, it’s okay.”
Sniffling, you let him dry your tears and pull strands of hair from the sticky residue. “He thinks we were cheating. I t-tried to tell him…that we’re just friends.”
You deflated with a hiccuped sigh, and Steve’s smile was full of pity and pain. He rubbed his thumbs into your cheeks, nodding his agreement.
“Yeah. Just friends, honey.”
Your eyes fluttered with exhaustion, and Steve swallowed thickly. He pinched the edge of your pillow to pull it down, and gently coaxed you down by the shoulders. He pulled the covers up to your chin and plucked Ted from the ground to join you on the bed.
“He ain’t worth your tears, honey. Get some sleep.”
Sniffling again, you nodded quietly. Steve flashed another smile, and stepped back toward the door. As he reached for the light switch, he glanced over his shoulder to find your eyes again.
“Goodnight, Steve,” you whispered.
He shut the light off so you wouldn’t see the way he closed his eyes, like it pained him to hear you with another cry in your throat.
“Goodnight, honey.”
Steve sat awake until 6 a.m waiting for Eddie to come to his senses and return for vengeance. But he never came. In some way, Steve knew that would hurt you even more.
So in the morning when you woke, he greeted you with a handful of sunshine yellow daffodils and your favorite coffee. A soft kiss on the head and a scratch at Ted’s chin on his way out.
“Gonna meet up with a friend today. Call me if you need me, ‘kay?”
He went home with the first girl he met at the bar that day just to get you out of his head, and lied about it when he came home.
Just friends. Yeah, right.
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