#your house is so overcrowded it’s not safe

[turtleneckshiv]

the concept is really great but in my experience everyone who runs an independent cat rescue is batshit

#your house is so overcrowded it’s not safe #vaccinate your fucking cats! #stop asking for thousands of dollars of donations to save a cat that isn’t getting better #the last one sounds harsh but i’ve seen rescues pay thousands to treat animals i would euthanize if they were my own pet #and they don’t get better they’re just in pain

[linos-luna]

His baby (My Baby) pt 6 🥀🔪

Yandere!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader x Lee Know

♡ (Pt. 1) (Pt. 2) (Pt 3) (Pt 4) (Pt 5) (Pt 6) (Pt 7) (Pt. 8) (pt. 9) (pt 10)

Warnings: trauma, Yandere, obsessive behavior

—————————— 🎀 ——————————

It’s been a year since you left your ex boyfriend. A whole year of freedom. You moved in with Minho, your new loving boyfriend. He makes you feel safe, loved, and secure.

Since moving in, you’ve been able to get some help to work through trauma. It wasn’t easy but you were slowly getting better and more independent.

Minho made sure to help you with that. You always felt better when near him but he’d encourage you to go out on your own for periods of time. To see your friend Jeongyeon and enjoy yourself.

Sometimes he would leave you at the house when he runs small errands. At first it was hard and you’d end up calling him in a panic but it’s better now.

Although being alone can still sometimes make you nervous, but Minho was always a phone call or text away.

~~~~~~~~ 🔪

For the past few nights you’ve been waking up with nightmares. You couldn’t even remember them. It wasn’t abnormal for you to get them every once in a while but not consistently like this.

“No… no… no…” you were muttering in your sleep, shaking your head lightly. This only made Minho stir lightly but not fully wake up.

It wasn’t until you started getting louder and moving more that’s when Minho woke up.

“Baby?”

“No! Stop!” You cried, eyes still shut as you shook your head as you kicked your legs.

“Hey, it’s just me.” Minho said calmly while grabbing your hand. “It’s okay…”

You opened your eyes to see your worried boyfriend looking down at you.

“I’m sorry oppa…”

“Don’t apologize.” He sighed while letting you sit up. “I’m just a little worried… you’ve been doing this more often… Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know…” you replied while looking down at your hands. “I’ve just… being having a bad feeling lately…”

“What do you mean?”

“Something just feels… off?”

Minho wondered what exactly you meant but let you get back to sleep. Perhaps you’d discuss it more in the morning.

You were right to have that feeling because something was definitely wrong.

Your ex boyfriend, Chan, is now out of prison. The justice system is broken and there was some overcrowding. Plus, paying off a judge definitely helped out as well.

So now he was back to his mission: finding you, his baby. But he needed to be smart about this. The year locked up gave him plenty of time to think on how to get you back.

He needs to be cunning and perhaps a bit manipulative. Anything to get you back in his arms.

Unfortunately, he already had an idea of where you were…

~~~~~~

“Y/n, are you sure you’re okay being alone for a bit today?”

“I’ll be fine. Go get what you need.” You nodded. “I just want to take a nap while you’re gone.”

“Okay.” Minho said, still a bit uneasy about it. “I’ll only be gone an hour at the most.”

“Okay.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in a little bit.” Your boyfriend said while grabbing his keys and giving you a quick kiss on the lips.

You giggled and blushed at that like a little school girl before heading to the bedroom.

~~~~

You had fallen asleep on your side while petting one of Minho’s cats, who also fell asleep. You slept in the middle of the bed, no sheets or covers on you. Only a pillow to lay your head.

Something made the cat wake up. She seemed to hiss at something before leaving the room. You moved a bit at the loss of the cat’s warmth yet continued sleeping.

But again you had that sudden feeling. The feeling that something wasn’t right.

Just as you started to wake yourself up, you heard a familiar voice that made your heart skip a beat.

“Hi, babygirl…”

In a state of panic, you nearly screamed and backed into the pillows and headboard. It was him. Your ex boyfriend. How was he here??

You were frozen in place as he moved closer, standing next to you where the nightstand was.

“Don’t be scared…”

“W-what are you doing here?!” You managed to say, shaking when he got closer.

“I just came to see you.” He said with a smile. His voice was eerily calm as he reached to hold your hand. “I miss you, baby.

You instantly pull your hand away and try scooting away from him.

“Don’t you miss me…?”

“N-no… no! I-I…” you didn’t know how to get words out and he sighed.

“Baby… I never meant to hurt you…”

“Chan, how d-did you—?”

“But I’ve changed.” He said, completely ignoring you and taking your other hand.

You tensed up and couldn’t pull away as he firmly held it.

“I’ll never hurt you again.” He said with a sigh. “I just want to protect you… because I still love you.”

A tear rolled down your cheek as he let go. Was this real or a hallucination?? How did he get in?? Why is he so calm??

Chan reached to wipe your tear away but you flinched and backed away, making him pause.

“It’s okay.” Chan said and put his hand down. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

It took everything in him not to throw you over his shoulder and run out, taking you home. But he must resist.

You then hear a noise from the main room. It was the front door. Minho must be back!

“I’ll see you later, okay babygirl?” Chan said as he started to go towards the door.

“Don’t tell anyone I was here.” He said while looking back and putting his finger to his lips. “It’s our little secret.”

He blew a kiss to you and left, leaving you confused.

Minho came into the room soon after to put his wallet and keys away.

“I bought some of your favorite snacks!” He said happily while kissing your cheek.

“Thank you, oppa.”

“Hey are you okay?” Minho asked curiously. “Looks like you seen a ghost. Did something happen when I was gone?”

“… no.” You lied while looking away. “Nothing happened…”

———————————————————————

Sorry it took forever yall. I was stuck for a while and a lot of life stuff happened. 😅

Thank you for waiting tho! I love and appreciate you all 🥰

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #fanfic #kpop smut #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids yandere #yandere kpop #yandere stray kids #yandere bang chan #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #skz smut #skz angst #yandere skz #lee know #stray kids lee know #skz lee know #lee know x reader #lee know x poc reader #bang chan x poc reader #stray kids x poc reader #lee know smut #lee know fanfic #my baby #my baby pt 6

[stvharrngton]

welcome home

a/n: back with some more sub!steve<3 based off a request from anon

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, sub!steve, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, size kink if you squint

summary: you come back from a weekend away to steve being a lil clingy subby baby 🥺

taglist: @sweetiestevie @dukesmebby

The cab rounded the corner onto your street, a 30 second drive from your house at the end of the road. The air outside was frosty and cold, you longed to be back inside the comfort of your own home. Back into the warmth of the open fireplace, and into the arms of Steve.

You’d been away on your family’s annual holiday vacation and sure, you love spending time with them but you missed him, and Steve missed you. He’d usually accompany you on these trips but you went this one alone, and it was safe to say you wouldn’t be doing it again.

You paid the cab fare and thanked the driver, dragging your suitcase to your front door. You were barely through the door before Steve was barrelling towards you, setting your suitcase aside for you and wrapping you up in his arms. You giggled as the boy picked you up and spun you round, smothering you in wet kisses all over your face.

Lips tugging into a wide grin at Steve’s affection, your arms swung over his shoulders as your fingers tugged at the stray strands of hair at the back of his head, “Okay! Okay, okay,” you breathed out, “you can put me down, pup.”

Steve faltered at the pet name, his grip on you softening as he set you back down on the floor. He leant into you, the tip of his nose brushing along the slope of your own, “‘M sorry, I just missed you.”

“I missed you too, Steve.” You hushed the boy, tone soft and endearing. You brought your hands up to cup his cheeks, thumbs rubbing at the soft skin there.

Caving, the look on his face too sweet, too cute, you pressed your lips to his in a soft kiss. He sighed into your mouth, the grip on your waist tightening by the second. Poor Steve had been on edge the whole weekend, yearning to touch you, to hold you, to be held by you. Desperate to feel all of you. Sure phone sex was great, but it had nothing on the real thing.

It was common knowledge between the two of you that Steve’s love language was acts of service and physical touch and so you let him cook you a nice hot meal, let him do the dishes and you certainly let him lay his head in your lap when you cuddled up on the couch for the evening.

When it was time for bed, Steve was pressed impossibly close to your side. Your legs tangled together beneath the sheets, his face buried in the crook of your neck so he could let your perfume and shampoo overcrowd his senses. His hand was shoved underneath your shirt, fingers tracing soft shapes on the bare skin below your chest, lips pressing delicate kisses to the spot below your ear.

“Steve,” you sighed contently. Your fingers found their way into his hair like they often did, digits tangling in the messy locks. You could feel his half-hard cock pressed up against your thigh beneath the soft cotton of his boxers, the familiar tingling sensation already working it’s way into your lower stomach.

“Baby, missed you so much.” Steve whined into your neck, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. “Please, just want to make you feel good, please let me make you feel good?”

You pursed your lips into a smirk, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his hot breath fanning against your skin. Your fingers tugged at his hair, pulling him back a little so you could get a look at him.

“Yeah?” You teased, your fingers caressed his cheek, thumb wiping over his plump bottom lip, “Wanna make me feel good, Stevie? Wanna make me cum?”

Steve groaned, a low rasp from his throat, “Y-yeah, so bad. Please, can I make you cum?”

You hummed in response, your fingers trailing down his face to his chin, a digit hooking underneath bringing his focus to you. His big brown eyes bore into yours, a dark cloud of desire glazing them over, his lip jutting out into a pout.

“I suppose,” you started, your teasing tone going straight to Steve’s cock, “can you be a good boy and eat my pussy, hm? Bet you’re dying for a taste, Stevie.”

“Oh,” he whined, hips rutting his hardening cock up against your pudgy thigh, “I’ll be good, baby, I’ll be your good boy.”

“Go on, then, baby. Go ‘head.” You instructed, urging Steve to clamber down the bed between your thighs.

Steve gripped your soft thighs in his hands, spreading them eagerly. You still had your underwear on, a delicate lilac lace covering your core. Steve’s breath hitched in his throat as he mouthed at your cunt over the material, the tip of his nose nudging your clit softly.

You breathed out a moan, sweet and quiet, your body relaxing at Steve’s mouth on you. He continued to lick and suck at you through your panties, inhaling your scent, something he knew drove you fucking wild. The material now soaked with his spit and your arousal, sticking to your core.

Clutching the sheets beside you, you bucked your hips off the bed a little needily, moaning, “Stevie, take ‘em off, please? Can you do that f’me?”

Steve nodded avidly, fingers hooking beneath the waistband to pull the lace down your legs. His large palms gripped your thighs once more, pushing them to your chest. His tongue darted out to lick a flat stripe up your pussy, your back arching off bed, a high-pitched keen leaving your lips.

He continued to lap at your folds, your slick covering his mouth and chin. Steve’s face fully buried in your pussy now, his tongue essentially devouring you. The boy moaning and groaning into your cunt like his life depended on it, his lips wrapped around your clit tightly, harshly sucking on the nub.

You mewled above as Steve ate your pussy like a man starved, your hands yanking your shirt up to expose your skin. Your fingers toyed with your tits, pinching and pulling at your nipples, the twinge sending shivers down your spine.

“Feels so good, Stevie,” you whined, hips bucking up into the boy’s face, “doing such a good job, baby.”

Words of praise dripped from your tongue like no one’s business, loving how Steve would whine into you when you did. Your hands flew to his hair as he sucked on your clit, a single digit teasing your hole as he did. Yanking on his locks, your hips rutted up, essentially grinding your pussy against his tongue.

Steve stayed quiet, save for the groans tumbling from his chest. His hips rutting against the mattress, trying to relieve some tension from his aching cock. He added a second finger now, long and thick scissoring you open as he lapped at your swollen clit.

You were close and Steve could feel it, your walls clenching around his fingers, thighs shaking beside his head. You moaned loudly above him, feeling the wave of pleasure overcome your body.

“Can you make me cum, sweet boy? ‘M so close.” You whined, forehead slick with sweat as your chest heaved. Giving Steve the perfect view of your tits from below.

Steve hummed into your cunt, fingers working faster now. Digits curling inside you to brush against that sweet spot, his free hand holding your own, fingers lacing together in a sweet gesture.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined, “just like that, Stevie, shit–” hips bucking wildly as you came, the coil in your lower stomach snapping in half. Your vision starry as Steve lapped up your orgasm happily, humming into you as your whole body quaked.

Your breath was shaky as you came down from your high, Steve’s warm palms stroking up and down your thighs softly. The boy pressed delicate wet kisses on the inside of your thighs, his nose nudging at the apex of your thighs.

“C’mere, baby,” you cooed, sitting up in bed. Steve shuffled towards you, sitting back on his heels between your thighs.

Your hands cupped his warm cheeks, as your lips brushed against his in a sweet kiss. You groaned into his mouth at the taste of yourself on his tongue, licking against each other desperately.

Your hands ghosted over Steve’s chest, fingers tickling at the thatch of hair there. They wandered over his warm skin until they reached his stomach, your fingers stroking over the aching bulge beneath his boxers.

“Can I take care of this for you, sweetie?” You asked, nose pressing into his cheek as you covered him with kisses, “Such a good boy f’me, let me ride your big cock?”

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, nodding eagerly as you sucked a pretty little mark into the column of his throat, “please? Need you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, despite their meaning, but the earnest and sincerity his voice held made your heart flutter. You pushed him back, urging him to lean back against the headboard of your bed.

“Lay back for me, baby.” You hushed, tone soft and saccharine.

Steve lay back, head resting against the headboard. Your fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down his legs. His stiff cock slapped up against his stomach, a petty whine escaping his lips as the cool air hit the sensitive skin.

Leaning over the boy, you wrapped your small hand around his cock, fist pumping him a few times. You had barely touched him, but Steve was so fucked already. His face flushed a pretty pink, his chest heaving with heavy breaths, his eyes glassy and pleading. Your lips leaked saliva onto the tip of his cock, hands working to spread the slick.

“Your cock’s so big, Stevie, don’t know how it’s gonna fit in this little pussy.” You cooed, your words going straight to his cock, the length tensing in your hand.

Steve glanced down at you, seeing your small hand wrapped around him, your fingers barely able to touch your thumb. He groaned loudly, craving the stretch he always caused when you fucked.

“Please,” he begged now, his hand outstretched to you, the other gripping his hair as he pushed it back from his forehead. “I’ve been so good, please, baby.”

“Okay, okay,” you hushed him, clambering to straddle his lap, holding his cock to line up with your entrance, “this what you want, Stevie?” You chuckled as the boy could only nod, lost for words.

You let the tip push into you, the sweetest whine leaving his lips. You sunk down further, inch by inch, you both groaning into the quiet of the room at the feeling; your warm, wet walls completely wrapped around him and his cock filling you up so well.

Giving yourself a minute to get used to the stretch, you moaned out, “Filling me up so good, Steve, your thick cock’s stretching me out so wide.”

Steve faltered, head thrown back against the headboard. His hands flew to your hips, fingertips grabbing the flesh there, trying to coax you into starting some sort of rhythm along his length.

You chuckled above him, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders for purchase. You began to rock your hips slowly, dragging your sopping wet cunt along the length of his cock. Steve was a moaning mess below you, the muscles in his stomach contracting with every snap of your hips.

“‘M not gonna last.” Steve whined, whimpering as his eyes squeezed shut, his fingers digging pretty bruises into the fat of your hips, his toes curling behind you.

“S’ok, Stevie,” you muttered, forehead coming to rest against his own, the tips of your noses brushing against each other, “you’re doing so well, such a good boy.”

Fuck, Steve mumbled under his breath. Your praise and pet names pushing him closer to his orgasm. You began to fuck your hips faster now, a dirty grind of your pussy along his cock. The tip brushed against your sweet spot with every stroke, your walls clenching around him so tightly.

The boy pulled you close, his arms snaking around your waist, his hands splayed across your back. Steve buried his face in your chest, his lips pressing wet kisses to your tits over the material of your shirt.

Ass bouncing on his cock now, your fingers carding through his hair, holding him to you, “Does it feel good, baby? Tell me how good this pussy feels.”

“Yeah,” he groaned, “feels so good. Christ, pussy’s so fucking wet.” Steve moved his hands to your ass now, squeezing the flesh as he pushed and pulled at your hips.

“Mm,” you hummed, “so wet f’you, Stevie, no one else.”

You could feel how desperate he was, how tight he was gripping your flesh, how his whole body was tensing. The sweet little whines and whimpers he was humming into your skin. It was bliss, really, when the two of you got to have each other like this.

“Please,” he whined, “I can’t— baby, ‘m gonna cum,” his hands pulling your hips harder, his cock sitting deeper in your cunt, “please? Can I cum?”

“Awe, course, Stevie,” you hushed the boy, your hands cupping his cheeks, “you can cum, baby. Will you cum f’me?”

Steve groaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. His brows punched together in pleasure, his features awash with pure euphoria. Abs tensing as he crossed over the threshold.

“God, fucking Christ—“ he moaned sweetly, a high-pitched sound that rang throughout the quiet room. Hot cum spilling into you as you continued to rock your hips over him, gentle movements as Steve rode out his orgasm.

You stroked his hair soothingly as you cradled his head in your neck, his shallow breaths fanning over your skin. You stilled in his lap, his hands running up and down your back beneath your shirt.

“It’s so nice to be home.” You chuckled softly.

Steve hummed against your skin, his lips tugging up into a grin, “Yeah, welcome home, baby.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #k.fic #request

[sybaritick]

cal sybaritick's

durgetash fic recs 🔪⚙️

i love durgetash. i love evil/evil power couples. i love the drama and the religious guilt and the self-recognition through the other (derogatory) and the insane definitely-not-safe-sane-and-consensual kink.

for this reason, i have read several hundred durgetash fics on ao3. here is a non-exhaustive list of my favorites!

all of the recs will be marked with pronouns, race, and genitals (when relevant) of the durge for your convenience

An Obedient Butcher, A Beast On A Leash by NeverwinterThistle

durge notes: og/white dragonborn dark urge (my favorite!!), he/him with dick

E / 4.8k / sadism and masochism, choking, frottage and grinding / complete

The room was warm. It smelt strongly of skin; overheated, overcrowded, overscented to hide sweat. Fill for this prompt on the Baldur's Gate kink meme: Gortash and the Durge are lovers, but due to the strict orders of tyranny in all things that Bane requires, Gortash is not allowed to bottom, on pain of retribution or revocation of Chosen status from his god. And, well, maybe Gortash really wants to. What might their sex look like with such a restriction? How do they deal?

this author has done multiple incredibly good durgetash fics but this is definitely one of my favorites. the dynamic and push-and-pull between them is excellent, and you can tell they truly do respect each other in a sense, despite being godawful people. they glory in their empire of blood and that's so much fun. and of course, the kink in this one is delicious... yknow, every time i do fic recs i have the impulse to share things no one needs to know about my personal life for at least a couple of them, but you know what, maybe i can keep it to myself just this once. but the point is the way gortash wants to let durge tear his ass up but can't is incredibly hot, and i particularly like that gortash essentially considers it an outdated religious restriction... that bottoming is not actually indicative of True Submission in the way Banites are told to believe it does.

lose the halo, don't need to resist by @lamortactuallywrites

durge notes: they/them half-orc with dick :)

E / 7.0k words / bondage, orgasm delay/edging, kink negotiation / complete

There is no absolution to be found here. They wonder if their father is watching, if Bane is watching, if they will each know the wrath of their gods before the night is through. Yet somehow, with blood drying tacky on their hand, bruises pressed deep into their flesh, and his mouth hot around them like he was made for this, it feels private. Protected.

i adore the kink negotiation in this. gortash is such a jackass (affectionate)... and once they're in it, durge snapping back like an angry dog, struggling so beautifully, when they're too tied up to really fight back is hot. someone insulting you so desperately because in reality they know they're not the one in control is. extremely hot. like "come on tell me more about what a monster i am while you're tied up begging for me to touch you" ygm??? read the fic it's good.

Mutual Manipulations by fermiparadox

durge notes: he/him drow with dick

E / 3.1k words / hate sex, power dynamics, handjobs / complete

Bloodlust is its own kind of aphrodisiac.

i love the characterization of both Durge and Gortash in this one-- resplendently awful. and considerably less trusting of each other, in a way that's very enjoyable. this is absolutely hate sex, and done very well... Gortash wants to subjugate Durge and keep him on a leash, and Durge wants to murder him violently. beautiful!

Marsember Syrah by say_lene

durge notes: she/her with pussy

E / 5.7k words / dom/sub, [consensual] mind control, power dynamics / complete

After a successful operation in the High House of Wonders, Bhaal's Chosen and Bane's express their admiration for each other. It is, predictably, very tense. “Ah, so you’re concerned for my wellbeing,” he said – calm, even as a thin trickle of blood rolled down his neck. “You needn’t be. Our masters commanded us to cooperate, after all, and in suffering me to live, Bhaal opens the door to veritable rivers of blood. You know him better than I, of course, but surely even the Lord of Murder can see the value of delayed gratification.”

this author has done multiple incredibly good durgetash fics, but this one is my favorite. i love the way they characterize gortash. anyway, normally, being the mind control/brainwashing/hypnosis/etc fetishist i am, i would barely have anything to say about this other than "read this for the mind control descriptions they're so hot that i've read this fic at least four times." (which i have). however not only is that hot but everything else is *also* extremely hot, and well written/well paced. particularly the way gortash "offers" durge lesser banites to kill, and how she enjoys it so, despite not quite wanting to just let him hand-feed her like that yknow... very tasty.

Yank of the Leash by BlueCloverInGreen

durge notes: he/him with dick

E / 28.2k words / dom/sub, grooming, noncon and dubcon / complete

Many, many potential triggers. Please read the tags carefully. I will also post specific tags before each chapter. This is a work in progress and my first project. Critique is welcomed and appreciated. Not beta read.

definitely do mind the trigger tags on this one, as the summary mentions, but it's a great guilty pleasure-- and by guilty i mean you'll feel something for finding it hot considering how dark it is, especially with regards to the grooming aspect. i can read some very gory fics, noncon, heavy kink, etc and not question how into it i am, but this fic?? this fic made me feel guilty and uncomfortable and that's a compliment. it definitely gave me the sense "yeah, Gortash would want it like this"

Knowing by @chocolatecatcupcakecheese

durge notes: they/them

E / 3.4k words / power dynamics, cunnilingus, bondage / complete

“What were we to one another?” Tav asks at last. “We were allies before,” Gortash says. “We—” “Allies?” Tav interrupts, sing-song with insinuation. Gortash takes a slow, steadying breath against the echo of desire. That teasing tone of voice is so damnably familiar. “Yes.” His voice emerges lower than he intends. Tav laughs, a single exhaled note of contempt. Gortash steels himself and does not move away when they step closer, close enough to share the same breath. “Is that all?”

oh hey, gortash is trans in this!! that's definitely a favorite headcanon of mine. and it's totally for story-based reasons only (he's so transhumanist cmon) and not because i am also transmasc and also have several power-hungry techbro sellout things wrong with me. anyway, the way they talk to each other in this is *so* fun... their dynamic-- and their foreplay and dirty talk (which for a normal couple would perhaps not qualify as dirty talk) is great.

ménage à quatre by isolasea

durge notes: second person (you) with pussy

E / 2.9k words / power dynamics, BDSM, dubious consent / complete

Your Urge and his Hand, on each side of your mind and body, pulling you apart. Or, Gortash: [fucks like a tyrannical despot] Durge: [surprised pikachu meme face]

this fic is so much fun for the d/s power kink stuff and it also has some excellent lines wrt gortash's obsession with control. i mean right at the beginning even, “All murder and no play in the Church of Bhaal?” that and gortash trying to put another finger in durge even while he's fucking them and they're barely taking it as it is-- it's so greedy and so very fitting for him.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #durgetash #enver gortash #cal txt #fandom

[1-800-cr33py]

Evan and Habit hcs for a reader with Generalized Anxiety Disorder? Conflict, sudden or loud noises, the feeling of being watched, large crowds, or a bunch of energy in one room, all of that is ✨bad✨

I hope you’re having an awesome night :] (side question do you write for Jeff from EMH?)

I would love to start writing for Jeff! Sadly, no one has requested him yet! Also I love this request because I was diagnosed with GAD a few years ago!

Onto the headcanons! Tw for mentions of mental illness,breakdowns, the nasty side of mental illness, Habit

Evan

Evan knows how loud he and his friends can be, so when you explain to him that sudden, loud noises and large groups aren’t something for you, he doesn’t take it to heart when you don’t hang around the group much; but he appreciates the days you do.

He understands the feelings of being watched, he’s experienced it since he was young, so Evan will happily check the house and any dark spaces for you; he also does it for himself, weird shit has been happening and he just wants everything to be safe for you.

Evan’s had a meltdown many times in his years, he knows to leave you alone when you need him to just be there when he needs to. He’ll talk to you through the door if you need him, or he’ll just sit in the farthest corner of the room silently if you need him. It’s things like that, that can reassure someone.

He doesn’t want you to feel embarrassed or less than when you can’t handle public situations, whether it be because you’re sensitive to high energy or people just make your mind feel like static, he’ll understand! Evan will gladly take movie dates in his house over some overcrowded and loud movie theater anyday!

Evan will order take out, or whatever you both are in the mood for, dust off some old gaming console or board game and call it a date.

1000/10, manifesting a man like this in my life

HABIT

Habit is a slimy fuck, but he’ll understand. I feel like you not leaving the house often is a blessing due to his line of ‘work’. It keeps you ignorant and safe.

Habit can be loud, so if you need a break, please by all means take one.

I feel like Habit prefers you in the house, for one he can keep track of you, two, its safer. You don’t have to get in between him and his objectives! Win-win in his opinion.

Both Evan and Habit like to spoil you rotten, weighted blankets, teas, candles, anything that they think will soothe your nerves.

Habit purrs, and he likes to pull you to his chest when he does, to him it’s his way of soothing you and calming your nerves. It’s a demon- Eldridge entity thing.

He means well, but he can be insensitive, teasing you, poking fun.

Habit likes your at home dates. He doesn’t like mortals. (Worth you being one of the few exceptions), so having you curl into his side and cackle at some stupid cheerleader running from Jason is his go to.

Habit will check the house if you feel like you’re being watch, begrudgingly. He’ll be over the top, knife in hand, borderline shouting at ‘What ever the FUCK is in his house, needs to get the fuck out” It’s endearing, in a bloodthirsty kind of way.

7/10, could be better but hes….him

#emh x reader #habit everymanhybrid #habit x reader #evan jennings x reader #emh evan #emh evan x reader #slenderverse x reader #emh headcanons #habit headcanons #1800cr33py #requests are open #anon request #anon answered

[loud-mouth-loser]

the other side of the street

summary: joel lives in the house across from yours and you've had your eye on him. you feel like he could be the answer to all your sorrows -- or at least a shoulder to cry on.

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x reader

rating: angst

warning: pre-outbreak!joel, one-sided pining (?), age gap (20 and 36), mention of dysfunctional family, alcohol, comfort, a kiss, crying, angst

w/c: 2.7k

a/n: this one took a while to write. i just wanted to put down some feelings so...here

----

Whenever you sit outside on the porch, on one of those outdoor plastic chairs, nursing whatever drink is appropriate for the hour (coffee, lemonade, or a beer), your eyes always drift to that house across the street. The brick one with a pick-up parked out front. 

There’s a man, Joel, who lives there with his daughter. You’ve only talked to him a handful of times, maybe at a semi-annual neighborhood barbeque or at Walmart in one of the aisles looking at brands of cereal, but never on purpose. Nonetheless, you have a fixation. 

You’ve never yearned for someone like this before.

Because Joel is different. 

He’s soft. 

He has that kind of softness you’ve been searching for your whole life. That feeling of comfort that you’ve craved since you were old enough to think.

It’s the way he acts with Sarah, his daughter, showing her unconditional love and always looking at her with an air of awe that says “I can’t believe you’re my kid.” Or how he’s constantly fixing a neighbor’s sink or a/c unit because he can “spare the time” when all he really wants to do is sleep after a hard day of work.

He’s selfless and genuine. A rock in a trashing sea of incoherence. Something to hold on to as the waves push and pull at you, trying to suck you out into uncharted waters.

But he’s also a man. 

And you, a woman. 

You can’t help but admire the gentle curls of his greying hair and those precious brown eyes. And his southern drawl that could pull you to your knees. He could just say your name and you’d be stammering over your words.

He’s more man than you’ve ever experienced in your life. 

And you crave it, you need it.  

You need to feel his scratchy salt and pepper scruff rub against your hand as you pull him close, forehead against his, if only just to look into those deep brown eyes. If only to have him look back at you. 

You need to hear his voice brush against your ears, telling you how beautiful you are. How he’ll always keep you safe. How you’ll always be loved. 

You don’t know why you’re like this: needy, touch-starved, emotional. Could be a lot of things. The fact you’re the youngest, but the only one that can make a meal or clean a plate. Or how you’re the smallest but can take words like a punch in the face. 

Ultimately, you’re the college student, the one who made it, but you were dumb enough to let yourself get sucked back into the same bullshit you escaped from. You wonder if he knows what goes on behind those closed doors. How dysfunctional a house of four can be. 

Either way, it doesn’t matter. It would never work out.

Joel is only in his late-30s, but he’s still too old for you. More like, you’re too young for him. You’re just a kid in his eyes. A kid that grew up, but isn’t really grown-up. And he’s busy. He has work and a daughter to raise – you’d be one more thing to worry about.

And you have enough on your plate as well. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you. But life isn’t fair.

Having this time alone gives you a second wind, a chance to stop yourself from leaving once and for all. Here, you can sit outside away from your family and away from their expectations and demands. Here, you can stare at that house and think about another life, one that’s out of reach. And you’re okay with it because at least you’ll never be disappointed. 

“Mornin’ neighbor!” 

Your mind has been so busy and overcrowded with thoughts that you don’t even realize you’ve been staring at Joel who’s come out to collect his mail. He waves at you, a small smile tucked under his mustache. He’s walking toward you? 

 “Mr. Miller. Hi.” Heat flushes under your skin and you sit up straighter at his presence.

He almost looks nervous as he approaches you, “Hey, I, uh, was wonderin’ if you could do me a favor?” That southern twang slides off his tongue with every word and you just want to lick it up. 

Is that weird? 

Shit, he’s waiting for a response.

“S-sure, what do you need?” 

“It’s my brother’s birthday tomorrow so I’m taking him out for drinks tonight. I just need someone to watch over Sarah and the house.” He nods over to his place as if you didn’t know where he lived. “Usually, I have her go over to Adler’s but they’re out of town…”

“Oh, sure, of course, I can.”

“Really? The pay ain’t great.”

“You don’t need to pay me, Mr. Miller, you’ve done a lot for my family. I’m happy to help.” 

“I appreciate it, sweetheart.” He seems surprised but genuinely grateful, “Is 7 ok?” 

“I’ll be there.”

—

You get there at 6:55, not wanting to appear too enthused, but also wanting to be punctual. He gives you a smile when he opens the door, already dressed in a button-up and dark slacks.

“Thanks again for doing this, kid.” Kid.

“Yeah, sure.” 

He calls out to Sarah, who’s in her room, telling her he’d be back late and not to wait up. She yells back a muffled, “Got it, Dad. See you later!” 

“Don’t let ‘er stay up too late.” He says right before heading out. “She’s a good kid, but she can be persuasive.”

“Don’t worry, I got it covered from here.” 

You watch as he gets into his truck before closing the door. 

You never thought you’d actually enjoy babysitting a 14-year-old preteen. You expected sass or at least a face of indifference, but Sarah is different. She’s polite and easy to get along with. 

She says you’re a step up from hanging with Mrs. Adler and her mom, making dry oatmeal cookies, and watching Nana stare at the wall. 

You think it’s a compliment, so you take it as one. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Mini Miller.” 

After making sure she did her homework (because you’re a responsible adult), you end up watching one of the Jurrasic Park movies while eating mac and cheese for dinner. It’s nice being able to relax, not tensing up whenever you hear footsteps approach you on creaky wooden floors. This is an escape for you even though it’s just you fulfilling a favor.

You glance at the time on the microwave. 11:47 pm. Way after bedtime. “Alright kid, I think it’s time to head to bed.”

“Kid? You’re only 7 years older than me!”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” You pick up the dirty bowls and place them in the sink, “C’mon, your dad will kill me if I let you stay up any longer.”

She rolls her eyes, “No he wouldn’t”

 “Either way. Get on with it.” You give her a look that says, ‘don’t push me’. 

“Alright, alright. I’m going.”

—

It’s been quiet without Sarah around to talk to, and quite boring. You idly flip through channels, barely paying attention to what’s on as the volume is low enough that you’d have to hold your breath to hear it. It’s sometime around midnight, almost nearing 1 o’clock and the whole neighborhood is dark, not a single light on. 

You’re watching reruns of some sitcom when you hear his truck carefully pull into the driveway. The engine dies and the front door opens.

“You’re still here?”

You look at Joel from where you’re seating, “Yeah, just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” He nods, still standing there like he doesn’t know where to go now. “Sarah’s asleep… We made mac and cheese for dinner.” That caught his attention.

“Is there any left?”

“Should be, but it’s cold. It’s been in the fridge for a couple of hours.”

You watch him walk to the kitchen and rifle through the fridge. He gets out the container of saved pasta and then turns to you, the fridge door still open. “You want a beer or somethin’?”

You snort, “I’m only 20.” He shrugs at that. 

He sets out a bottle for himself, “Won’t tell anyone if you don’t. What’s one year, right?” 

“I–Ok.” He takes out another.

He doesn’t even bother to heat up the mac and cheese, just brings it over to the coffee table and sits next to you. “What’re we watching?”

“Um…Friends, I think.” He opens the beers, twisting them open easily, and passes one to you. “Thanks.” He answers you with a quick nod. 

You both watch the show silently as he eats, the show’s laugh track is a mere whisper in the air. You were actually planning on heading home when he returned, but now…it would be rude to – right?

And then there’s an ad break. 

“So how’s the family?” You tense from the question. 

“Fine, good.” You hope he doesn’t notice. 

“Really?” 

You nod, “Yeah.” You take a long sip of beer, a buffer to keep you from saying anything more. It’s bitter on your tongue and acrid at the back of your throat. You swallow it anyway. 

“And you? How have you been?” Me?

Sometimes you wonder if people know how questions like that can make or break a person. A simple, “Are you okay?”, could push you off the edge. And this is Joel that’s asking you. 

His gaze feels heavy on you as he watches your hands fiddle with your bottle anxiously. 

“I’m…good.” 

His eyebrows raise, “Good…really.” He sighs, “That’s all you got for me? You’re just ‘good’?” 

“Um…How about you Mr. Miller?”

“Tired.” You can see it in his eyes and that smile. You decide right then and there, you can’t tell him now. Even if the world is crumbling under you. You’re too young for him and he’s busy. “Glad I have the day off tomorrow.” You nod understandingly because that’s all you can offer. You wish you could do more.

“That’s good”

The show is back on, but neither of you turn back to it. The glow of the tv washes over your forms, locking you in place. 

“What’s up, honey?” He puts down his food, sitting it right on the edge of the coffee table. It’s a precarious position that lowkey freaks you out, but you’re more afraid of his words. “Is something wrong? Am I making you uncomfortable?” 

You follow his actions, setting down your bottle while also subtly shoving the container of pasta further onto the table. “Oh, n-no, Mr. Miller. I’m ok.” 

“Please, you can tell me.” His words are pulling you at you, peeling layers off of your practiced role. It’s hard to hold back. Maybe it’s time to leave…

“I–don’t…”

“Why are you still here?” This time the question isn’t asked with an air of surprise. This time he’s worried. You realize you aren’t getting out of this easily. You swear your lip will split with how hard you're biting down on it. “This is a safe space, sweetheart, say whatever you need to. I’ll listen.”

Just like that, you’re yanked off the edge. But now, you’re not as scared. Now you know he’ll be there to soften the fall. 

You talk slowly, careful to just ease along the edge of your feelings, “Sometimes…I don’t want to go home.” Just admitting that takes a huge weight off your shoulders. Joel readjusts his seating position and he’s now turned toward you. He’s listening. 

“Why not? Is something happenin’...?” Those gentle brown eyes urge you to continue.

“It’s–When I’m with my family, living feels like a chore.” It’s spilling, overflowing, “My brother just got out of jail, my mom’s a borderline alcoholic, and my dad is rarely home. I feel like I can’t breathe when I’m in there like I’m suffocating in my own makeshift box. I get angry at them and at myself, and then I’m guilty,” It’s pouring and you can’t stop it. “And t-then I feel lost,” Your voice cracks, but you’re too engulfed in everything to care, “because they’re all I’ve known. And I want them to change, god I do, but I also just want them to go away. I want to go away, even just for a little bit.” You don’t realize you’re crying until a warm droplet spills down your neck and under your t-shirt. 

“Come ‘ere.” He pulls you against him, letting you lean on his chest, not caring if your tears soak through his clothes. You let the tears fall now that you aren’t facing each other and they spill down your cheeks, hot and sticky. “It’s okay, honey. Just let it out.” A hand smooths against your back, comfortingly.

You could be crying from embarrassment as much as your emotional exhaustion. Or even about how good it feels to finally be comforted. 

His heartbeat is steady under you as well as each rise and fall of his chest. The soothing movement helps to calm you down until you’re just sniffling every so often.

“Have you ever been in a room full of people, but feel completely and utterly alone?” Your voice is hoarse and faint, slightly muffled as your cheek is pressed flush against his chest. 

His voice is soft, “I have.” 

Another sniffle. 

“I don’t want to be alone anymore, Joel.” Your head is tucked under his chin and nuzzled into his soft flannel. 

His hand your head off of him and he looks right into your eyes, palm cradling your cheek, “You’re not alone, honey.” He says it so quietly like it’s just for you to hear and no one else. 

You must look a mess, eyes red and nose snuffed, as you stare back at him. Your eyes glisten with tears and admiration like he’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. And then they drop, below the honey eyes, and under his freckled nose. 

What would you have to give to get that kind of comfort?

You realize what you’re doing and look back up, face heating with flustered energy and embarrassment. His eyebrows are furrowed when you meet his eyes again. He has to know exactly what you were thinking.

God, you fucked it all up! 

You expect him to push you away…but he doesn’t. 

He leans in before you could say anything, pressing his lips gently against yours. It takes you a second to realize what was happening as held you and breathed you in. He’s kissing you. 

Your eyes flutter shut and you sigh into the kiss, eagerly pushing toward him to feel this skin flush against you. His lips are so soft as they brush against yours, careful to keep things slow and gentle as you ease into it. You whine softly as he pulls back, trying to chase his lips as he leaves. You can’t, he’s holding you back. 

He starts nipping and sucking at your plump lips lovingly before pushing back in to swallow down your gasps. His hands continue to cradle your jaw, guiding your head as he deepens the kiss, tongue gliding over your sensitive lips. You try to ignore the way his whiskers tickle your upper lip as he pushes into your mouth, tongue mingling and laving against yours like it’s his life source. 

“Joel.” 

His touch disappears. 

You pull away, dazed by his kiss. His taste. You wonder if he felt it too, that spark, that connection. The feel of his lips against yours is addicting and you’d do anything to do it again. 

When you meet his eyes, it’s clear he doesn’t feel the same. 

“...T-this was a mistake.”

“What–”

“Honey, I shouldn’t have done that.” He gets up off the couch. “You were distressed and I took advantage of it.” You start to shake your head, but you don’t get a word out. “I did and I apologize. Look, maybe these beers weren’t a good idea. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea…”

“Joel,” 

“It’s Miller.” Any glint of hope you once had is immediately snuffed out. 

“But, I wanted it.” 

“You don’t know what you want.” That hurts. He can tell. His eyes soften, “Can we just…pretend like that never happened?”

“Yeah. I-I understand, Mr. Miller.” You get up and collect your sweater and phone, leaving the barely-touched bottle on the coffee table. “I’ll…just go now. It’s way past my curfew anyway.” 

You anxiously try to walk around him to the front door, but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder. You freeze. 

“Just…be safe, okay?”

“Sure.”

You walk out.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #the last of us #joel miller x you

[basuralindo]

Hi. I plan on talking to my relatives who take yearly trips to Hawai'i to stop going. Are there any good sources you'd recommend for the negative effects of tourism on native Hawai'ians (especially in regards to the current crisis on Maui).

Hi, thanks for trying to talk to them about it. I don't have any good sources on hand, and honestly I just don't have the emotional fortitude to go looking for them right now.

Your best bet would be to look up Kanaka Maoli on instagram or tiktok, as there are a lot of native people posting informational videos about the issue.

You can also try pointing them to the Hawaiian Airlines official statement requesting that all nonessential travel be postponed, or even the very softly worded state travel advisory. However, the advisory really makes it sound like everything's fine so long as they don't stay in the affected area, and that's just not the case.

If they're willing to listen, please try telling them that there currently aren't enough available structures to house all the people who have been displaced by the fires, and they are needing to use vacation rentals and hotels. If your relatives stay anywhere on Maui in these coming months, they will likely be forcing a family to stay in an already overcrowded shelter or on the street. There is a water shortage, as the fire damage has leaked toxic chemicals into the water supply in various parts of the island. My mom is currently reliant on volunteer supplies of fresh water, as it isn't even completely safe to bathe in her area. If your relatives stay anywhere on Maui, they will be supplied with water that is desperately needed by locals all over the island, and that water is in very short supply. If they drink and bathe there, my family and neighbors might not be able to. Yesterday I dropped off several blankets, first aid, and basic hygiene supplies to be flown over to Maui because there is not enough to go around on the island right now. It's in the middle of the ocean, all products typically take days and weeks to reach them, and several other residential areas were damaged by fires that are still going right now, there simply isn't enough to go around and the tourist industry demands A LOT of resources

#asks #Maui fires #every time I look for info I have to see my community suffering and the places I grew up destroyed #I haven't been able to sleep because of the shit I've already seen playing on in my head #and I can't bring myself to go searching through videos to pick out the most helpful for you. that's gonna have to be your job

[ssahotchnerr]

can you imagine going house hunting with aaron and jack?? looking for a place to call all your guys’ home??

no because this makes me so 🥰🥰🥰

cw; none!

-

first, you and aaron would do a ton of research when it comes to buying a home. a safe neighborhood is absolutely top priority, and the house must have/get installed with an extremely good security system (after foyet, aaron was a lil paranoid 🥺 he's not taking any chances when it comes to you and jack's safety). it also must be in an area with a good school, maybe even walking distance to a park, a backyard and overall it's in a neighborhood that's pretty quiet and not overcrowded. heheh both you and aaron have a lil list of must-haves <33 aaron wants a home office and a big kitchen, you want an open floor plan and a walk-in closet, and jack's one condition is that he wants a bigger room for his toys hehe <333

but house hunting itself with aaron would be so fun!!! the two of you will make a day out of it, visiting potential homes together while jack is over at jj's playing with henry <333 the two of you will visit a home, and visualize what would go where or what room would be what 🥹 the office, jack's room, a future nursery!!! the whole process makes the two of you a bit giddy, because this is your future you're talking about🥰!!!! it's a new chapter of your lives together; there's so much to look forward to and this house is just the beginning <3

aaron's lawyer side really shows when he's asking the realtor questions about the homes as well - making sure it's up to code, checking on appliances, no harmful toxins hidden deep in the walls, etc.. he definitely uses his negotiation skills to his advantage too <333 honestly, he kinda freaks out the realtor with how intimidating he is >:) and meanwhile it's giving you butterflies 🦋🥰💕 it results in the two of you getting so many good offers too, - all below asking price, having appliances included, things like that.

after seeing what feels like a hundred houses, you and aaron finally find one that you both collectively think is just perfect. it has everything on the must-have list; it's in a safe neighborhood, and it even has a pool!!! but before a conclusion is reached, you'll take jack to the house and ask him what he thinks (and if it's suitable for all his toys hehe <3) and he gets so excited!!!! he's going on and on how big it is compared to the apartment and how there's so much room to run around and play!!! heheh while he's running around from the kitchen to the living room and back, you get a bit teary eyed at his happiness and excitement 🥹 and because now that jack is there, it truly feels like home 🥹 you can see you and aaron raising a family there, the bau coming over for lil get-togethers, and everything else that goes inbetween <333 aaron sees you get emotional, and he pulls you to him so he's able to wrap his arms around you and give you a kiss 🥰 because he's thinking the same thing 🥰 the two of you have found your forever home and it's going to be filled with so so so so many memories <333

-

request something -> here!

join my taglist!

tags: @sylvieofasgard @hotchgirlsummer @ssamorganhotchner @greg-montgomery @sannunah28 @anlin2058 @14buddy22 @thebaileybugle @GothWifeHotchner @dungeons-are-too-cold @RousetheMouse @louderfortheback @mulattomoon @itseightbeats @gspenc @reidsbookclub

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

[dercolaris]

His Eyes

Fandom: Batman

Characters: Edward Nygma, Jonathan Crane

Relationship: Edward & Jonathan

Genre: Romance

Word Length: 2078

Warnings: No Warning

Status: Complete

Short Summary: His eyes see him in a different light. Always.

A foul-smelling drop of oil fell off the rusted car frame and landed on the tinkerer's nose after a short fall. Edward rubbed the back of his hand across his by now slightly dirty face and groaned a bit too loud, blindly groping around for his welder with his free hand. The unfavourable hole in the oil tank had already made itself felt a few weeks ago during a dangerous escape from Gotham City, but this was quickly forgotten after arriving safely at the shelter. The Riddler slid down his welder's shield and began welding the reasonably stainless metal into the right place. The seams certainly wouldn't last forever with this inferior material, but it shouldn't be able to leak any more liquid for at least a couple of weeks.

 Edward sceptically checked his work again and again and corrected failed passages all over again in his need of perfection. He probably couldn't count on two hands how many times he'd repaired his old Ford Mustang, but the tinkerer was attached to his trusty vehicle. Many things in his life had let him down - but never his machines. Of course, that included the aging car with the scuffed leather seats and hideous rust-green paintwork. A vehicle as marked by life as its owner. The Riddler finished his work after a few minutes and rolled out from under the car, then slowly removed the welder's shield from his face.

 The tinkerer got up unsteadily, searched on his workbench for a new license plate. He had pressed and coloured it last night so that it was indistinguishable from the originals, at least from afar. Edward grabbed his cordless screwdriver and put the sign in place. It was of course only a matter of time before the GCPD would uncover the fake plate on a spontaneous sighting, but for a few quiet shopping trips it was sufficient. The black-haired man wiped the sweat from his forehead and got down on his knees again, carefully inspecting the repaired area again. Dry as a dessert.

 Edward stretched once after standing up again and looked down at his greasy hands. He grinned slightly as he spoke softly to himself: "Motor oil on your skin is a good replacement to the most expensive body lotion." The Riddler loved the smell of all the liquids that brought his machines to life. It just smelled honest to him. The tinkerer wrinkled his nose a bit and went to the sink in his workshop to wash his dirty hands with a special soap. The water turned black for a long while, interrupted occasionally by rainbow-like ripples towards the outlet. Unfortunately, his roommate had little sympathy for his love of strong-smelling engine and lubricating oils.

 The black-haired man left his workshop with reasonably clean skin and was greeted by the last rays of the evening sun as he left. The ramshackle house bathed in the soft orange glow. It was still a mystery to Edward why nobody was renovating the old buildings in the outskirts or at least considered the generous building land valuable enough to risk a new start here. Everyone seemed to be drawn to the stinking, overcrowded, and in garbage drowning city centre. The tinkerer yawned behind his hand. He didn't want to complain about being able to spend most of his life without disturbing neighbours. Edward strolled across the front yard to the porch.

 He no longer knew how much time he had already put into the renovation and partially necessary refurbishment, quite apart from the money he invested. However, his intensive work did not seem pointless to him. The house thanked the black-haired man with his unique beauty and a certain charm. He was already counting the days they had spent together in the building. A new law in Gotham had, for the first time in the tinkerer's life, caused genuine joy about the rule of law: after three years of vacancy, a plot of land could again be expropriated and reallocated. That was the great opportunity to officially acquire this house completely legally. Their ticket out of the sordid underground life!

 Edward walked into the house, visibly smiling and took a deep breath in the entryway. Instead of unhealthy black mould, it now smelled like a mixture of coffee and old wood. The Riddler hardly dared to say it, but it smelled like home. A home that he had always wanted from a young age on. The tinkerer listened in the corridor for a moment. It was eerily quiet. He hung his jacket on the coat hook on the wall by the front door and called out loudly: "Jon, I'm done! The car is repaired!” Silence.

 The black-haired man went up the stairs to the upper floor. Jonathan was not a friend of loud noises and avoided shouting even at home. It didn't fit into his picture of a civilized, peaceful coexistence in a tight space. Edward had a very different view on that topic. Two and a half years ago, two worlds had collided almost brutally here and it had taken a lot of time to find a suitable middle ground for the relationship to work nicely. For example, it was only allowed to scream in the entrance area and in emergencies, otherwise an appropriate volume had to be selected in the rest of the house.

 In return, Jon had taken to the fact that there was a bit of chaos everywhere and he didn't have to clean up after the Riddler like a maniac. At some point, the item would find its right place – sometimes it just took around three weeks and what felt like twenty reminders to put it away as soon as possible. Edward strolled down the hall, clearly surprised to find that the library door wasn't locked as usual. Jonathan must have been desperate for company tonight. The tinkerer entered without knocking and looked around, then frowned. Jon wasn't sitting at his desk as usual.

 Before he could call for his boyfriend, he heard the low voice between the bookshelves: "I'll be right there, Edward. Take a seat, please and we can talk in peace.” The black-haired man smiled at his partner's precise choice of words and then sat down in one of the two comfortable reading chairs. An almost empty coffee mug was on the side table. As a matter of principle, Jonathan drank his coffee unusually strong, bitter and, of course, without sugar. In the eyes of the tinkerer, the liquid really deserved the name 'tar broth', especially since the former psychiatrist's favourite coffee beans didn't necessarily flatter the fine coffee aroma. Actually, it only made everything so much worse.

 Jonathan suddenly emerged from a row of shelves. His gaunt figure in the shadow of the furniture looked intimidating and almost frightening as usual, but the Riddler had gotten used to the sight by now. The professor couldn't help his grotesque demeanour or his stubborn manner. He was a scientist and there was an infinitely long list of things that were more important to him than his looks and behaviour. The brown-haired man sat down in the second chair and put some books on the table, accidentally knocking over his coffee mug.

 Edward reacted quickly, gripping the porcelain tightly. A few drops of the black broth still ran over the rim of the mug. Jonathan's surprised expression gave way to a small smile. He spoke with a certain amusement in his voice: "I wouldn't know what to do without you regarding my clumsiness." "You would probably need to get into the habit of carrying at least one roll of kitchen paper around with you at all times," Edward teased with a broad grin. His partner was silent for a moment, but then, after a moment's thought, started laughing out loud. The Riddler chuckled at the gesture.

 When he met the sinister professor over eight years ago, an honest laugh was almost an event of the century. Because of all the strokes of fate, Jonathan hadn't been able to have fun and simply enjoy life with a certain ease for a long time. Only by working more closely with the tinkerer had he finally been able to find his smile again. "My solution would probably not be drinking near documents and books, but I respect your pragmatic solution-orientation," replied the former psychiatrist, clearly amused.

 Edward rolled his eyes slightly and set the coffee mug down a safe distance from the books. He said calmly: "That's why I better repair our car and not you. In your case, I wouldn't be so sure whether you wouldn't simply dump the old car into the nearest river and buy a new model after 'theory-based cost-benefit analysis of a wheeled vehicle on two axles with four rubber-coated wheels'.” Jonathan frowned and growled a little bitterly: "I would certainly not buy a new vehicle right away. There is always the option to hire a mechanic, you buffoon.”

 The Riddler had to suppress a laugh convulsively. This kind of unnecessary discussion made life with the sinister professor all the more enjoyable. The black-haired man shrugged his shoulders in response and added cheekily: "Fortunately that's not necessary, is it?" Jonathan didn't reply to this rhetorical question. Instead, he fished a pack of matches out of his pocket and lit the candle on the side table, then shook out the burning wood. On the upper floors, not all the electronic lines worked reliably, and especially on the dark winter nights, darkness often engulfed entire parts of the house.

 The former psychiatrist rested his head on his hand, staring at the gradually darkening corridor for a while. He looked tired but not unhappy. A definite improvement from before they fled the city to the outskirts together. Jonathan needed a certain distance from society and the constant hustle and bustle around him had noticeably influenced his mood - above all, of course, negatively. The gaunt man's voice broke the silence: "Sometimes I really wouldn't know what to do without you, Edward." The tinkerer blinked in surprise, looking at his partner in irritation.

 His friend seemed absent-minded, immersed in an unfamiliar world that he was still forbidden to enter. Decoding Jonathan's mind was almost impossible. Such surprising statements only underlined this impression. How had he come to that conclusion, and why did he suddenly feel the need to say it out loud in front of the Riddler? They were lovers, there was no doubt about that, but there was always a certain rivalry between them. No one wanted to openly admit weaknesses to the other.

 Edward looked down at the frayed rug on the wooden floor. He blushed a little and replied uncertainly: "Very funny, Jon. You'd get along just fine without me.” The person addressed broke his rigidity and took one of the books from the side table. He leafed through it for a while, then found a certain page. Jonathan read some of the lines out loud: "Love lets you find the secret places in another person, even the ones we didn't know existed, even the ones they themselves didn't think they could call wonderful." The sinister Professor lingered on the lines with his index finger and added quietly: "Who should show me these invisible places inside me if not you, Edward? Without your eyes, I'm nothing but a bundle of doubt, fear, and sadness whose anger occasionally manifests itself in violent outbursts. Your eyes put my figure in a different light.”

 The Riddler swallowed hard at this profound statement. He crossed his arms over his chest and replied sheepishly: "I actually only saw what was always there, Jon." The former psychiatrist shook his head slightly and carefully closed the book. He spoke softly: "No, you didn't just see it - you said it and showed it to me. Without these steps, I would still be clueless to these days." The black-haired man sat down a little forward and stretched out his arm, finally laying his hand on his partner's. He gently squeezed the thin, bony fingers. Jonathan smiled softly at the gesture, allowing this very intimate touch without questioning it further.

 At that moment, in addition to the smell of coffee and old wood, there was also the smell of motor oil in the air. A mixture that many people would judge differently, but Edward and Jonathan were more than in agreement on this one point: it smelled like home for both of them.

#DC #Batman #Riddler #Scarecrow #Edward Nygma #Jonathan Crane #Scriddler #Riddlecrow #Romance

[libertineangel]

Stellaris: A Basic Tutorial, Section Two

Following on from section one, hopefully at this point you have a fledgling interstellar society with a Science Ship leaving its home star system for the first time, your Head of Research is leading valuable scientific work, and you know what most of the icons at the top of the screen are. Now we're going to get into some of the other crucial systems, so once again strap yourselves in and let's get to it!

Part 1 - Planetary Management

Unsurprisingly, there's nothing more important to a society than where its people live, so we're going to take a look at where yours live right now. Take a deep breath, prepare to see a fairly unintuitive and information-dense screen, and click on your home Planet, either from the System view or in the Outliner on the right hand side of your screen. It should look something like this:

So, let's start from the top - first you should see the Planet's name, which you chose when designing your society, and directly beneath that is the Flag you designed. To the right of the Flag is its planetary designation - there's a variety of these which provide different bonuses to different outputs (such as Mining Worlds, Tech-Worlds and Bureaucratic Centres); after that is what type of Planet it is and its Habitability, followed by its Size (I'll explain that momentarily); the person in front of the city is the Governor, who will be elaborated on later in this post, and in the bottom right of this section is a Planet Modifier.

Going down the screen, we see the Planet's Districts. These are important, as the Jobs they create provide your basic physical Resources, and you should recognise which is which from the descriptions in my previous post; the filled boxes show which ones are built, while the unfilled ones show which can be built - the maximum number is determined by the Planet's Size, and you can fill that entirely with City or Industrial Districts, but the ones providing base Resources have their own individual caps from Features (which will be in the next paragraph). Below these are Buildings: some of these provide the more advanced resources, while others enhance the effects of your Districts, and others have more special effects which I'll leave to you to discover; do note, of course, that you only get a maximum of twelve Building slots per planet, and one of them is always taken up by the Capital Building.

OK, now for the middle. The greyed-out Terraform button is something you can find out for yourselves; Features shows relevant bits of planetary geography, such as fertile plains for Agriculture Districts or ore-rich mountains for Mining Districts, as well as Tile Blockers which limit the District Cap until they're cleared. The number next to the box with hazard colouring shows how many Blockers there are, while the triangles to the right are for special rare Features and Deposits which I won't spoil. The diamond ring symbol below this is Trade Value, which is a whole other system beginners don't really need to understand that I'll try and explain in a few posts' time, and I hope the Planet Production box is self-explanatory.

Top right box now. The percentage is Stability, which gives various minor boosts to the Planet and honestly takes care of itself most of the time, then Pop count - Pops are an abstract representation of how many people are on the Planet, with one Pop working one Job. Planetary Decisions are a very minor feature I barely use and can be safely ignored; Resettlement allows you (if it's legal in your society) to manually send Pops between Planets, but as you most likely only have one Planet right now it's unavailable. The next five numbers are:

Crime, the percentage that's probably at zero right now and will honestly in all likelihood stay at zero for the whole game, because Crime is nearly always irrelevant.

The number next to the buildings is free Housing, how many more Pops the Planet can hold before it gets overcrowded.

The music note and mask represent Amenities, the stuff keeping your people happy. As long as it's not negative you're good.

The figure with the hard hat shows how many free Jobs there are, I generally try to keep 3-6 available in case I get busy managing some other aspect of galactic politics and Pops grow while I'm not looking, because in most societies it's not actually beneficial to maintain a reserve army of the unemployed.

The symbol that looks like it's banning briefcases is your number of unemployed Pops; if I had any here it would also have a partially-filled triangle showing me what Stratum they are, which I'll explain soon.

Below these, we have some other administrative details - which Sector the Planet belongs to (I'll explain that another time), its Designation setting, and its automation settings, which let you take a hands-off approach and let the game manage the Planet for you (don't though, it's shit at it); then at the bottom is the Build Queue, which I hope is self-explanatory.

Everything here has tooltips so I'd encourage you to look over it all and familiarise yourself, because you'll be seeing this screen a lot; for now though, let's take a look at the Jobs tooltip in particular, which shows us what Jobs exist on the Planet and what Strata they are. The game explains this mechanic poorly but it's important, so I'll try and do it better.

Society here is universally divided into three Strata, known in-game as Workers, Specialists and Rulers (and known in the real world as Proletariat, Petit-Bourgeoisie and Bourgeoisie). Rulers are rare, and only tend to work in the Capital Building, Specialists produce advanced Resources (Scientists, Artisans and suchlike) and Workers produce base Resources. When a Pop grows, they automatically fill the highest-available Job (unless you manually prioritise another on the next screen); if a higher one becomes available they'll automatically move up to take it (, but if theirs is removed (say, by demolishing an Administrative Centre) they'll take time to demote. Not all Pops will always be able to enter any Stratum - for example, your society might develop Robots that can function as Workers but lack the processing capability for Specialist tasks, or you might be running an empire with multiple species in different forms of Slavery, where some are permitted to work as Specialists, some kept only as Workers and some deliberately kept out of standard employment as conscripted Defense Armies.

If we go to the next tab of the Planet screen you can see a full breakdown of the information in the tooltip, and clicking on each Stratum heading allows you to see the details of each Job and adjust its Priority; you can also see the Pop Growth Rate, the planet's average Happiness and a pie chart of its demographics.

The next two tabs aren't important right now, so feel free to either close this screen or poke around at it some more until you're comfortable!

Part 2 - Leaders

We've just spent a whole lot of time looking at where your Pops live and work as a whole, now we're gonna focus on the individuals right at the top. Leaders are the movers & shakers of your society, the people who lead the charge into the great unknown or into battle. There are four Classes:

Governors, who govern your society's Sectors, enhancing productivity and making domestic work run smoothly

Scientists, who oversee your Research or explore the depths of space as commanders of Science Ships

Admirals, who lead your Fleets in interstellar conflict

Generals, who lead your Armies in planetary invasions

They're powerful individuals with a wide variety of skills and bonuses, and as such you can only support a limited amount, as represented on the top bar of your screen by the numbers below the gold figure with the star. If you click the matching icon on the left-hand side, you'll see the screen showing all the Leaders you currently have working for you (besides Envoys, who are a sort of pseudo-Leader with their own hard cap and no Traits or levels), along with their Traits, their level, their current assignment and their monthly Unity upkeep cost; below them is all the potential Leaders currently available for you to hire. You can also see their homeworld, their previous job (which is just flavour) and their Ethic, which has minor effects largely related to Factions which I'll explain some other time.

Your most important Leaders are those on the Council, which is viewed from the second icon on the left-hand bar. This consists of your Ruler, your Head of Research and your Minister of Defence (all titles customisable by clicking on them, and you can unlock a couple more positions later); the latter two can be swapped out at any time, but the Ruler is largely out of your hands and decided by your society's Authority type as chosen during setup. Some Leaders have Traits that only activate when they have a seat on the Council, and the Ruler cannot take a regular field job for their Class while ruling; furthermore, some Council positions are restricted to certain Classes, while others are open to any. As well as their general effects (viewed, as ever, through tooltips), the Council is responsible for implementing Agendas, long-term initiatives with subtle effects through their development that are amplified once they're ready to be implemented.

I think that covers Leaders decently enough and this is fairly long so I'll leave it there. In Section Three we'll examine Warfare, because sooner or later you'll probably find an angry neighbour.

As always, any questions or feedback are welcome!

#stellaris

[repentarium]

the truth is I've been dreaming of this tired, tranquil place tag 7/?

ao3

They don't get to hang out in a big group as much anymore, between working more hours and the kids having more school work and even part time jobs, which make Steve and Eddie feel more stressed and also older than they'd like to admit because 'those are children, actually, and they're… working the grill at a fast food place? Uncanny.' Eddie felt especially freaked about it and spent a nice long rant about it during dinner one night after Mike had handed him their takeout with what Eddie was calling his ‘asshole face’ on his face.

If Steve didn’t have Eddie around so much, the lack of Robin and now the kids too would hurt a lot worse, he thinks. It’s harder to sink into the loneliness when Eddie is loud and present enough most days to make up for it, playing around on his acoustic guitar or muttering under his breath as he writes dragon notes into his little books or arguing passionately about the music Steve has rolled his eyes out. It’s enough that when he does get hold of Robin she makes jealous (and loving) little comments about being replaced. 

He assures her that there is no replacing Robin, and there absolutely isn’t, but between Family Video and Eddie he doesn’t have to dwell on missing her so much is all. He’s sure that part of it is just that compared to how alone he was in his parents house all the time having Eddie there every night, a sure thing, feels so safe. 

The Party does manage movie nights all together though, sometimes, overcrowded into the apartment's small living room. 

They're rewatching the Star Wars movies, again, because they couldn't decide on anything and really it's just background noise for catching up most of the time anyway, to Dustin's mild chagrin. 

Steve, Eddie, Dustin, and Will are all crammed onto the couch, and the rest of the Party is sprawled out on the floor, only space left for the coffee table full of pizza and glasses. 

'This is just such a cool fight scene because - I mean look at it!!' Dustin is yelling as he's shoveling chips into his mouth. 

'It's so impractical though, man, it'd never work in real life, like-' Steve gestures at the screen. 

'No but it's cool, Steve!' 

'The physics are stupid. You can see the wires and it totally takes you out of it-'

'Oh are you gonna talk to me about physics, Steve?' 

He doesn't mean anything by it, but he doesn't have his big obvious I'm teasing you voice on and for some reason it makes Steve feel like shit. He'd had a long day at work, had to rush home to leave again and pick up the kids and the pizza, and he hadn't slept properly last night, that probably had a lot to do with it, but he feels himself shrink a little into the corner of the couch anyway, gritting his teeth a little and refocusing on the tv and planning to just ignore Dustin until he gets over it which in the past has had a less-than-stellar success rate if he’s honest.

'Stop being a jerk, kid.' Steve can feel Eddie elbow Dustin beside him, even though he’s still looking at the tv too when he checks.

'I'm not being a jerk, Steve's being a moron.' 

'You can make jokes about people if they're funny but you're not being funny, you're being mean.' 

Steve feels his face get warm, and he stares wide-eyed at the screen. He can feel Eddie looking at him, the way he nudges him a little, and when he does it again to get him to look at him he mouths 'You good?' and Steve swallows and nods. 

He thinks it's over and they've moved on, but when he asks a question about the timeline in the movie, trying to patch it up, it makes Dustin mutter 'see, a moron’ quietly enough that Steve can barely hear it.

Eddie shoves him, whole-body but not roughly, off of the couch, and when Dustin starts complaining he interrupts him with a snipped and decisive 'shut up'.

'I don't know what your deal is today, man, if you wanna talk about it we can, but you don't need to be an asshole to your friends.' Then he turns his head to Steve, ignoring Dustin's muttering as he gets up and goes to the restroom and the rest of the party watching awkwardly, and explains his answer to Steve's question quietly to him. 

Steve's looking at Eddie as he speaks, in the glow of the tv screen, and it's like the actual words he's saying fade out for a minute and all he can really think about is the way the whites of his eyes and the shine of his teeth look in the blue of the television.

Then he's saying 'Does that make sense?' and his face is a little scrunched up, so Steve nods back at him. Eddie claps his hand on Steve's knee and stands up, gestures to the hallway and the bathroom, whispers 'I'm gonna go check on him'. 

Steve tries to pay attention to the screen, or even just to Lucas and Max's bickering from the floor, but he can't stop thinking about the way Eddie basically stood up for him. He's had people fighting at his side and saving his life, but for some reason Eddie's ability to see that he was upset about something and fix it before it even spiraled into a real problem (like maybe one that would have him hiding in his room for a while day and forgetting to eat or drink water or talk to anyone) felt… monumental. Like he shined a bright light into the weird little cracks and alleys inside of him and just said 'oh, we can patch this up actually' and then he just did it, easy as you please. 

Will leaves the couch, and when he does he takes his and Steve's empty glass in; when he picks his way back through the crowd he has two full glasses of water, and he sits one in front of Steve. He doesn't say anything but he does a little 'cheers' gesture with his own glass and waits for Steve to pick it up before he matches him taking a drink. 

Steve thinks 'this is the way a family could be, actually' as he takes a long drink and sets the glass down, says 'thanks' to Will. Like maybe for all his fussing and taking care of people, they also want to fuss over him and take care of him sometimes actually, not just Robin and certainly not his parents. Like they were all leaning on each other, maybe, like it's not weak to ask for a little help. 

When Dustin comes back in, Eddie's arm around his shoulder, his eyes are a little red and puffy. The two of them squeeze back into their positions on the couch, and Eddie's arm is flush against his as they watch the rest of the movie. It feels grounding. 

After the last movie, the kids (teenagers, nearly adults, god, but never not kids) start cleaning up and putting things where they belong so Eddie can get them all home like he volunteered to. While they’re bustling around, Dustin asks if he can talk to Steve alone and pulls him into his own bedroom. Eddie catches his eye on the way and gives him a questioning thumbs up, so he shrugs and nods and closes the door behind him. 

Almost immediately Dustin’s eyes are watering and he’s pulling Steve into a tight hug and saying ‘I am so sorry Steve I was being a dick and I don’t even know why, you’re not a moron at all you’re smarter than any of us a lot of the time actually and-’

‘Whoa, hey, Dustin, it’s okay.’ Steve pushes him away to hang onto his arms and look him in the eye. 

‘It’s not okay, man, I didn’t want to hurt you, I wasn’t even thinking.’

‘It’s really alright, okay? I’m kind of a moron, it’s fine.’

‘No you’re not, Steve, and you even saying that is messed up.’

‘I was… joking.’

‘You were half-joking.’

‘Well-’

‘You’re not an idiot, Steve. And I know we joke about it sometimes but it’s not cool, especially because your poor brain is mostly mush anymore from all the fights and the monsters and stuff.’

‘Gee, thanks…’

‘I mean it. If you forget what happened in Star Wars it’s probably because of the head injuries and stuff and anyways it’s not really without plot holes, you know, and it’s just a movie.’

That is maybe the kindest thing that Dustin has ever said to him, denouncing Star Wars, even if it was surrounded by honestly offensive insights.

Steve pulls him back into another hug, kind of just to keep him from accidentally insulting him anymore. When he wiggles his way out of the hug again, he says ‘I really am sorry. You’re the best babysitter, and I mean that. I’m really glad you keep us all around, even if we don’t say it much we all love you.’

And that, coming from dork of a teenager who he loves back with everything he is, is enough to bring tears prickling to his eyes. 

‘I know, man. I love you too.’

‘Don’t be a baby, okay?’ Dustin claps his hand on his shoulder like he’s the parental figure.

Steve rolls his eyes and knocks the hat off of Dustin’s head on his way out of the room again, and things feel light again, back to normal or maybe better. 

When Steve thinks about it later, after Eddie has whisked everyone off in the van, he realizes that Dustin is right. Maybe the multitude of concussions did more than wiggle his eyes around and give him migraines, like the fogginess and the way he forgets words and lyrics sometimes isn’t because he’s not thinking or whatever. A brain wasn’t supposed to be jostled around so much, by shitty dads or racist older brothers or Russians or what amount to literal demons.

It’s not Dustin’s fault for teasing him. If Steve himself didn’t connect the dots there’s no reason for the kids to. 

He hadn’t really given it a lot of thought beyond the immediacy of the migraines and his suddenly shitty vision, but he makes a note to ask Robin what her thoughts are about the whole brain injury thing the next time they talk, maybe to schedule something with another government neurologist or whatever in addition to the eye doctor. 

Eddie had though. Eddie had given it enough thought and realized it and told Dustin he was being an asshole and explained it to him, why it would hurt Steve’s feelings to say things like that, why he should maybe cool it. He knows that’s what they were talking about in the restroom, doesn’t even have to ask.

He’s washing the glasses in the sink and thinking about how good Eddie is, to him and to the kids and in general, when he comes back (‘honey, I’m home’). He comes in and sits on the counter next to the sink, watches quietly as Steve finishes up. 

‘How are you doing?’

‘Good. Good.’

‘Dustin said he apologized, but I wanted to tell you from him again he’s sorry, just in case he fucked it up somehow. I don’t think he realized what a shit he was being, you know, teenagers. He was still kind of shook up on the ride home.’

Steve nods, dries his hands and puts the towel back on the oven handle. He leans against the stove next to Eddie, who pushes his knee against his side. 

‘I know. It shouldn’t have even bothered me, it’s not like he was wrong, I’m not smart enough to be arguing about physics with the nerds, but-’

‘Shut up, man, you’re a million times smarter than me. Do you think I’m stupid?’

‘Well no.’ Steve means it honestly. He knows that tests at school don’t measure all the kinds of smart you can be. ‘I don’t think I’m smarter than you.’

‘We can agree to disagree. Maybe both of us are kind of smart.’

‘You are smart. You’re like the smartest guy I know, when it comes to people especially. I don’t know how you can always tell something’s wrong with someone, or that I’m getting a migraine, or when I don’t want to cook or whatever.’

‘It’s the trauma I think. Or maybe magic.’

But he can tell Eddie’s laughing it off, pushing the compliment aside. ‘I mean it.’ He looks at Eddie, tries to make him understand how sincere he’s being by sheer force of will. It must at least kind of work, because Eddie smiles and blushes a little, drops his head and bumps his knee against Steve again. 

‘Dustin said something though, kind of got me thinking, about how all the concussions probably fucked with the way my brain works sometimes, like maybe it’s not that there’s something, you know, wrong with me, but it’s like an injury.’

‘Concussions plural?’

‘Don’t get me started. A lot of them. And I didn’t even connect it, you know? I just thought between everyone else saying so, even Nancy and the kids and everything, I just wasn’t so smart.’

‘Stevie, pal, even if you weren’t as smart as the super-geniuses you wouldn’t be wrong. You’re still an amazing friend and babysitter and you know way more about sports and cars than I can ever learn, even with the less-than-legal history.’

Steve is just looking down at his crossed arms, Eddie’s leg still pressed against his elbow. 

‘I think I’m gonna take the government bozos up on that check up, see if they can poke my brain at all. Get the eye doctor penciled in too.’

‘Good. You gotta take care of that big old head you have.’

Steve looks up at Eddie, finally, again, sees the way his eyes are faking sincerity but so clearly goofing around, sparking in the streetlights filtering in through the windows and the light that stays on over the stove (light enough to soothe the shadows but dim enough not to trigger a migraine), and he thinks maybe he’s not replacing Robin but he’s carving his own little space out. He elbows him in the shin, and Eddie jumps off of the counter, laughing loudly as he goes to get ready for bed.

#tranquil place #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #ficlet #fanfic #fic #mine

[tiny-tigers]

NOTHING as planned ...

Or the very long and bittersweet story of my long journey in England from 7 to 11 October 2022 (you wanted it there you have it so take a mug of something it's gonna be long and full of useless details)

Note from the author: 🍋when life gives you lemons don't squish them in your own eyes to make lemonade🍋

for my @hold-to-love @ledemidouverture @lukadreaming @saintsnlancs @thechaoticrugbyfangirl

and mostly for me here is the full story.

7 October 5AM - 1st train at 6.17 / second at 7.44 and Eurostar around 10.

Only excitement was visible on my face I had planned 1h in between connections to get myself something to drink. I knew about the strikes and no matter what I always plan to be early from one hour to 1 day if needed but... I hadn't planned the strikes to go on before schedule and to decide within 15 minutes if I had to take that overpriced ticket to Leicester. Which I did, -60 £ for Amélie on this fine day, what a start! Little I knew it would be the start of little troubles like this.

Train for Leicester was of course completely overcrowded but it was enjoyable to see that old woman in the front seat going for her little chardonnay glass at 11 in the morning. A mood. What wasn't a mood otherwise was the door of my train coach being completely stuck and out of use and the guy in front of me not making any moves to help me to pull it. One charming construction worker in full dungaree from work had to show some muscles to let me out of my train. YES, I thought about dashing the other way around but I had traveled for a few hours already with that heavy bag and I had all the difficulties fitting into my seat so just imagining going opposite side was the only way to miss my stop for sure and I just wanted to be out of that train! Safe travel they said *grmbl grmbl* so it is with a less assured smile I entered my adored Leicester.

Around 12, the room was not ready before 15:30, so I decided to hunt for that CUE café. The famous café they go after when they go golfing all together in Leicester. On my way I had the notification from the team sheet and voicemessaged Nora right away, scaring a lot of people while I was screaming at my phone: HEISPLAYIIIIIINNALSORAFFIIIIIII I did completely forgot it was at noon when it is at 1 at home

I ended up in a part of the town I had never visited, It was full of neighborhood stories on every corner. Wealthy houses with small, but orchestrated gardens stand alongside working-class houses. There is a lot of contrast and layers to Leicester. This is also largely the Indian quarter, all generations are together and a mix of generations sometimes occurs. That's what I like so much about Leicester, its cultural richness. You can see grandchildren taking care of their ancestors by taking them to the barber. Frat boys on bicycles and in suits passing by people on the same bicycles but in traditional Indian ceremonial outfits. The CUE does precisely this junction,between traditional Indian cuisine and the standards of the trendy café for hipsters. You can find a perfect flat white and order like me a revisited BLT with some spice and more punch. The father of the chef is the one bringing fresh milk to the café and they have the sweetest waiters all being friendly and casually having chats with you. You feel at home.

The apartment was pretty sick, I can't recommend it enough if you stay just for one night in Leicester it's central and comfortable! The Richard III visitor center was already closed when I wanted to visit it unfortunately and the same happened in York and Leeds, all the museums I expected to see were closed. Had a little nap and was too excited to eat anything or sleep really. I even put the tickets in the trash by accident with the lack of sleep, fortunately, you can scan them on your phone now but I did get stuck anyway on the turnstile like always.

The next morning I packed all his stuff in that heavy bag, prepped like I was going to see a real prince, and went to find Nora.

Had a perfect pumpkin spice latte before meeting her and didn't understand the mixed way of taking your order at the cashier but your breakfast is brought by a waiter at your table but you have to grab the beverage at the other counter so I was seated and waited a loooong time for my latte like a moron because I was super sure she would do the same as she did for food *help*

I could tell already from the beginning it wouldn't be the same and maybe I should have lowered my expectations from the beginning you know because it was a totally different mood. Natasha wasn't there and I missed her so much, Nora can handle me but Natasha can handle my emotional state better and even if a functional adult is supposed to deal with her own emotions I lack that feature. I needed her. Even more that day. I was emotional not only because of my periods / the full moon or any excuses that would make me a slave of my feelings. Not even me being oversensitive in general, no.

I just had spent so many nights not sleeping properly to finish the playing cards project, I was projecting A LOT. I had put a lot of money into just one day (trainS-food-tickets-his gifts-everything to just be pretty) a lot of time and so A LOT of expectations. In a way I did put him before me and my basic needs:eating-sleeping, I didn't even realize that because I also wanted ALL TO BE PERFECT. Since the last time I was feeling upset because a certain someone played with my feelings always making sure I could mark her words: he won't be playing and won't be there. 👍

So to balance the universe this time I was choosing hope. I shouldn't have clearly, because it's rather difficult to recover from your own fake scenarios than from expecting nothing and receiving all in return.

Keep that in mind because it's important for what happened next: I really really wanted everything to be perfect, with my previous excellent first impression and positive experience better than actual dreams I had high expectations, and I was also very involved emotionally and was desperate for recognition. He was playing so he was in another mindset, it was a big fixture against his rival-friend Raffi so it wasn't a simple match. His parents were there we were close to autumn fixtures selections for England. ..

We wanted to have a walk-in (my) park with (my) tree (yes the one I just hit my head with while I was busy with JvP's DM the first time) and we did chat so much with Nora that we almost missed the opening of the turnstile, we had to go and we ran out of time so we couldn't visit the shop and then... Nora punched my arm to notify me to look at the almost complete van Poortvliet family who was just coming forward. We saw Jeff and Sarah going for the opposite side of the pitch. Pleasant little surprise. Sarah is stunning and wow even more beautiful in person. It Wasn't a sign this would go well tho much more like the sign it's such a big match even the family is coming!

We did find a little space to be just in front of the pitch on the right side of the terrace just between the try line and the bench. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to buy a program so Nora kindly went to find me one. I was shifting into match mode, very tense, and completely glued myself to the treats bag like a mussel on a rock. I had tried my best to be pretty for the occasion but all I ended up was pretty freezing I had my best outfit and best try at makeup for the occasion but after even a few minutes it wasn't manageable to stay without my scarf draping me like a plaid an extra jumper from Nora and my skin unappreciative of the English weather/temperature. I was so impatient to see him that I was sure I had missed his entry on the pitch but it's impossible to miss even without my glasses. I wanted so much to shout and celebrate him to have his little wave 🖐 in return like last time but Nora and Natasha told me I would have plenty of time to do this later and it wasn't polite to deconcentrate him so I did stay quiet. I was disappointed and surely called Nora a thief of joy. * spoiler alert * I should have stayed on first intuition and given it a go. Jack went to the other side to hug Raffi.

They did train and it was all very tense, maybe it's just me imagining things but most faces were closed to smiles. They went back to the tunnel and I shouted so hard during the call of the players that apparently you could hear me from the opposite side of the pitch. Who knew they weren't rock stars and you should only clap? Not me eh.

During the first half, it was all pretty even between the 2 teams and we just had capitalized on their mistakes we weren't really having any consistency or any plan. So far it was in our favor but it wasn't looking like we knew what we were doing it felt very scrappy.

The second half came and with it first disappointment

He was minding his own business doing his little exercises on the side of the pitch then came back to the try line level where people were asking him for fist bumps and handshakes he did it and was pleased to oblige so I was like here is my chance this is my moment I am just gonna say: jack!!! And shake the bag. We were centimeters away from players so they did hear our voices. Well, I guess he went deaf all of a sudden because I hadn't been ignored this much we can even say avoided or erased almost in such a loooong time.

I was hurt, my ego was hurt, and everyone nearby had seen it happening. I felt utterly like crap almost like he did throw his gum to my face directly. I was also confused and shocked because he was answering some solicitations so why not answer me when he could see from miles away I had things for him... He looked all so different and I was left like this 💔. . Shattered in pieces. I am not kidding it's hard to feel rejected when you are there at the second for one reason and one reason only and that precise reason just doesn't care/look indifferent. Of course, it could be adrenaline, maybe he didn't see me for real, maybe he didn't hear maybe he couldn't turn, maybe it would have looked unprofessional to turn the head even 1sec maybe maybe perhaps perhaps. ..

Nonetheless, that match was also turning crap, felt ultimately blessed for Raffi but his try added some salt to my wounds. And then he entered the pitch for a bit less than 30 minutes and it was just darkness, I enjoyed nothing at all. I clapped at one of his box kick that entered directly into touch so he was very pissed and did mumble some cursing. He saw me clapping and I was so so so so sorry I didn't see where it landed directly I made myself sooo small. The only cute thing happening was Tom Curry before a scrum just playing with the ball for JvP to catch it ♡ They looked very friendly. Freddie S was scaring us a little they had to tell him how many minutes were left and to tell JvP to be in charge and to take care of some of his duties...Because Freddie couldn't. He was tapped a lot at the end of the match.

I wanted us to lose so badly I was generating frustration and was scared just to come home with the presents because of course he wouldn't hear me at the end if he couldn't hear me 20 cm from him! What were the chances? It didn't miss.

End of the match everyone was gutted in the crowd, with not much enthusiasm for the players from the fans. Players were very distant from their usual walk, not even one came for selfies or anything they just packed the middle ground and stayed close and went to the opposite sides to stay with family. Nora and I tried everything we shouted we jumped we waved nothing happened at one time he did turn his head and went back to walking quickly and far away from us. We couldn't follow or cross. I could have just cried and collapsed at that point but people next to us told us to try the opposite side or parking after the match seeing my face of despair I guess. I must have been like a ghost at that point I was determined to do anything in my power to give him that stupid bag but being twice rejected was very a huge toll.

Of course, he didn't know what effort and care I had put into that bag or how much it meant to me to meet him again. I certainly knew that he didn't owe me anything. He wasn't expecting it for that matter. That doesn't change anything about the feelings I was experiencing. They were valid at the time. Never loved and hated someone as much as Jack. Was fully embracing the feelings some fans experience when they are dismissed by the object of their love. Those violent delights have violent ends. I'm not here to plumb the depths of the human soul. I was aware that he was within his rights to refuse to be asked anything more after the match. I just couldn't give up on completing what I had come to do. I'm aware that it doesn't put me in a very flattering light to have done this. I should have just given up and moved on, how many people are disappointed every time they go to the game and don't get to see them afterward? Who was I to give myself all these rights just because I brought something he didn't care about.

I hesitated to tell these passages but they are also the salt of the life of a fan or a stan if you prefer. When you put so much expectation in someone you are bound to be disappointed and even if you are aware that you are deceiving yourself by investing in an almost one-way relationship, you throw yourself in head first because how many times has this person made you smile? I've changed so much in a year just because of Jack you have no idea!

So yes at the time I had become one of the people I hate the most and my frustration came more from what the whole mess was forcing me to experience and feel than from actual frustration with Jack. I was disappointed, hurt, and sad. Nothing was going the way it was supposed to and everything was ruined. I was back to being a fussy little girl who had just been denied her dream toy. So much expectation for so little in the end. I HATE myself for thinking that, you have no idea how much I'm going to torture myself in the next few days for even daring to think that.

I used to think that fans who turned against their idols were not real fans and didn't deserve to be considered as such but after having experienced to a small degree this same frustration, I can understand how it feels. Para-social relationships have a very real impact on this media-driven society, you always want more, create a connection with your possible celebrity with social networks everything seems accessible, possible, conceivable, and within reach. They make us enter more and more in their daily life with less and fewer limits and it even becomes a market value when we see that socios wants to exploit this "family" side of the tigers for their profit, the same thing for the sales of charities: come to share beers, a golf club and come in illusory ways to pay you a moment of life with your stars of the sport. So of course we think we know them, we think we have made a connection with them, and that they owe us. This has never been the case, but I understand when things go wrong. I don't excuse it in any case and I still think it's regrettable and that people should never act this way no matter what but it's not madness like I thought it was or an isolated case, it's explainable to a bigger scale.

The other way around this also explains the frustration of the players because this also durong this match:

Their frustration must be another level because even if they are paid to play they obviously want the win and the cheer of fans, they aren't doing it on purpose to act like douches after a match. They are humans it happens. Shit happens. A bad day happens.

Music was buzzing in my ears and I just felt dizzy like my blood was going too fast to my blood vessels I could see how Nora was sad for me. We just ran to the opposite side not quite believing something was possible to do, Nora wanted/needed to go after the match to collect her dogs so we couldn't stay long after the match (normally). We came across an old steward standing in our way, we were next to the tunnel, and almost half of the players were already in the changing room. We had kept sight of where Jack was and he hadn't done his usual round of the pitch. He hadn't left the opposite side of the pitch for a loooong time, we figured it was to talk to his family, that day was also Max van Poortvliet's birthday. We then proceeded to pitch our story to the steward and nearby there was a mass of people coming from North Walsham asking me if it was jack's birthday what was the matter of this bag and what was in there. They were very impressed and so pleased I was coming from so far just for jack and that I was a fan of his was blessing their heart. They warmed mine which was still in pieces. The steward talking to me understood our case and asked another steward about it, they said to me I couldn't move forward but Jack could and that ultimately it would be his call but they would be ok to ask him if he wanted to meet me or not. "alright love I'm gonna get you JvP"

The other steward had NO CLUE who was JvP and why he was that important but the lady steward and we were following the progress of Jack on the pitch with eagle eyes. I felt very stressed to be rejected just in front of my face for the 3rd time in a row. The North Walsham people not able to stop shouting were like JVP JVP JVP when he climbed the steps and my heart was missing a few beats.

Not gonna lie he looked genuinely surprised when the steward lady told her I was there and then he acted like it was the usual. He looked veeeery tired and pressed so I took my chances when he opened his arms I've fallen for it and added a bonus by tippytoeing and kissing his cheek in the same motion. Guys, he has the softest skin ever, warm and silky. I could rant about it for days. Said thank you and run off so so quick in less than 1 minute he was gone.

It was a bit eery seconds afterward but mostly I felt very lonely and empty all of a sudden, very much wanted to cry and not from happiness. I wasn't really realizing, just felt grateful I hadn't done all this for nothing but looked at Nora with one of my idiot's looks because she needed something to be signed by him and she couldn't because of how quick he was to go. It wasn't very "satisfying" as it should have been much more like a "pulling the rug out from under you" kind of moment. meh.

We decided very promptly we would wait at the carpark to finish the mission as we needed because damn he wasn't really cooperative but we were determined to make it a 10/10. North Walsham group wished us good luck and we parted as friends for a day. I thanked my two stewards as much as I could and ended up in the carpark after a weewee break for Nora after all those emotions :D

it's there I understood I had been lucky, one father was joking about JvP ghosting his son because it was the 3rd time he missed Jack , and one girl of like 16 years old was waiting for him as well with her mom and sister and visibly infatuated, the others were mostly there for the 2 Freddie. My brain instead of being howww cute all those people loving him and attending each weekend it went bonkers and more in a jealous state ngl. I was moody and despicable instead of being my usual self.

I was mostly sad and anxious for Nora who had decided to stay and make her dog nanny wait just for me. Don't think I was being ungrateful I'm very grateful she waited when she had never waited for NO ONE else. I did my paparazzi job to occupy myself, we saw a cute little scene like a whole family coming from USA asking about Freddie Steward and the kit-steward giving them a free shirt, and when he finally get to meet Fred he was so happy, all the family in tears of joy. Another kit was given to that boy who had been ghosted by jack. We saw Ollie,DK and Fred was tapped from head to toe looking very poorly I had not the guts to ask him anything. Poor lad couldn't move a step forward without being asked for selfies. I was so sad about his head grimacing in pain.

I saw Guy Porter and took the chance because I always said that if Jack wasn't there it would be my goal to have a selfie with Guy and I was so delighted to see him at the match even if he was injured. He was so lovely and impressive! His voice !! very deep! I asked him after all the children if he was ok to do another one with me and he was like so kind yeah sure of course. Panicked in mode selfie but finally found it and took it and he said: Hey this is a good one!. Been approved by Guy what much can I say?

Jack finally came out last from the changing rooms just after Fred so everyone was occupied by his side. He met the ghosted boy and complimented him to be "a good lad", then Nora went to make him sign the box and I was by her side so I heard that he was so surprised this existed and genuinely thought they could sell it at the shop. He had a delightful little smile and laugh of joy, he signed it and I couldn't help to say it was a present for my birthday.

when she finished I asked him if he liked the presents he said yes and I did the most stupid thing ever: I bragged. Like 'fine, because I came all from Belgium just for you so I'm glad you know...' and then I opened my arms. I couldn't stop myself it was really the Amélie show omg it's so cringey. I suppose everyone was like who is she wth? him included I guess but he was just more like I know and he hugged back, we said thank youuuu he said again thanks and we RAN literally to the car.

I had a meltdown in the car because everything had been so... wrong? Out of place and cold. All had been so different and I felt so ridiculous for acting a bit like he was mine. I hated myself for wanting him to be more grateful like last time and warm when he hadn't been bad but just so different! I had so much wanted to have a real conversation and all those emotions mixed with the resentment I had towards me, him, how ungrateful I should have looked to Nora when actually I was so so so so lucky to have her and she is really the best friend I could ever ask for and I couldn't express to her my gratitude overall I was already experiencing. I don't know how it's possible to feel all that much and deeply but I'm really raw like my skin is pealed for everyone to see and play with it sometimes.

we picked the girls back, had a Mcdonald's, and called it a day.

The other days went super nice because I discovered another lifestyle, life with dogs,.. And it was enjoyable even tho all was closed and it canceled my day at Leeds, I can't order properly in English without making it an all mess and I'm not an adult functioning properly, my busses were canceled and my anxious and panicked's ass wanted all to be enjoyable for Nora and I failed big time at all my tasks and missions and probably made Nora uncomfortable ... Well.... I learned.

[wompwomp4]

i wish we could go back to being kids, Leah.

that’s not to say that i want to re-live those years; cold, wet, angry years. i’m saying i want to re-live you. i want to gather up those summer/autumn/winter/spring days in poulsbo, put them safe on my shelves where i can remember them.

my memories come and go, but i can’t forget walking through your neighborhood (always your neighborhood, not mine. i used to joke that if you came within a ten foot radius of my house, you'd explode), past the worn houses with their overcrowded decks and equally overgrown lawns.

past the house with the fenced-in yard and the yapping dog, rusted car in the driveway. down the hill, pocked with pot holes and muddy grass, dead trees that will be heavy with crab apples and too much pollen in three months.

down to the street, make a right, echoes of heated conversations carried in the breeze. four blocks to the next neighborhood, with it’s shiny new houses- fresh coats of paint, artificial gardens, and security cameras watching us warily from their perches in windows, blinds drawn tightly.

something about them used to make me so angry. i made an effort to pass by with as much disturbance as possible. i was so loud. i still am. always have been. i think you know, Leah, that it’s my way of forcing my presence into the world, of demanding not to be heard, but to be listened to. ‘don’t ignore (forget) me!’

you’re the only person i know that can love me like this– loud and mean and broken.

it doesn’t take long to leave the houses and their people, with their range rovers and organic granola, behind.

now we cross the street, half running because people come flying at this turn. we’re giggling at the same jokes we’ve been telling for years when we meet the new strip of sidewalk. we hurry down the block, towards the pizza/tattoo/coffee shops all squeezed into one building, the one with the bench (you know). turn the corner, and we’re home.

we invade the stores of downtown poulsbo, with their overpriced antiques and mass-produced 'rustic' home decor. make our rounds; the bead store (im sorry), the bakery, pass the shitty coffee shop on the way to the pocket-sized book store, the dainty stationary store, the diner and the seafood place, sometimes down to Mora's. businesses that had to learn to accept us.

we make up stupid names for some of these stores, ones i still can't let go of them after all this time. leave most of them with nothing, borderline harass the locals (mostly me).

always, we wind up at Cups, share a mexican brownie after pretending to read the menu. sometimes, we get milkshakes. sit outside if the weather is feeling generous. usually, it isn't.

we're here for hours, suspended in these moments. i yearn to feel them again. i can see your face so clearly. we were so young, the weight of it all wasn't quite as heavy as it is now.

downtown poulsbo isn’t the same anymore, but neither are we. we grew out of it, and it grew away from us. but i still see you in those stores, on the pier breathing in sea salt, down the sidewalk. i still see you on the hilly walk home, illuminated by the dying sunlight. in the abandoned house and the barn, at copper top and metro market, and the thicket of trees in front of Sakai.

i'm lucky now if i get to see you once a year, but in my mind, i always see you, and i love you. you are otherworldly, then and now.

#poets on tumblr #poetry #could be considered creative writing #free verse #writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writers and poets #platonic love #love letters #friends #lgbtq #he/him #transgender

[dystopianam]

The first two years of Covid were so dangerous that as soon as you caught the covid you weren't even sure if you would survive.

The Italian medical service was so overcrowded that it was difficult to make any visits (even the most important) quickly.

For 3 months out of a year I had uterine hemorrhage so intense and strange that I went to different gynecologists and emergency rooms and no one helped me. There was always Covid in the middle.

If you called the dentist they was always closed or didn't have the funds.

My grandfather spent the last 3 months of his life in the hospital and we could hardly ever visit due to Covid.

He died the same day they released him. And in this whole chaos today I also have to be scolded by the dentist because during the covid period I didn't go to the dentist.

Telling me after the first year covid was safe and it was all an excuse. While they orders me to wear a mask in the waiting room.

Of course, if we call and they're not there it's our fault, if we come when they finally answer your phone and after the covid has actually calmed down they get angry.

You have no right to take it out on people by accusing them of using the Covid period as an excuse. Do you know what the fuck happened in that person's life during that time?

We spent the first year in fear, my very asthmatic mother certainly took it, she did the test, it was clearly positive but since they were the first home tests, the explanation paper said that two lines were negative and one positive (but what test was?? In reverse.)

I had a hemorrhage for three months, there was quarantine, you couldn't leave the house and as soon as you caught it it was practically certain death, I'm scared to even say it but due to hormonal (and other) problems I had a period of mild depression, I saw my paternal grandfather suddenly unable to walk anymore in my house, I had anxiety about when he was in the hospital , I saw the first funeral of the first grandfather who ever died for me, when covid finally calmed down the dentist was closed and now they get pissed because "you used covid as an excuse".

Yes. Obviously I used the covid period to have fun and have great parties.

#personal #tw: dentist

[themultifandomgal]

Fangs Fogarty- Riot Night pt3

After seeing Jug and Fangs the next week goes quickly and before we knew it Jughead was back at school. We're sat in the classroom we used to hold our meetings at

"So this is how is ends huh? not with a whimper but a memo from Weatherbee" Jug shakes his head

"Riverdale high is now suddenly overcrowded" Toni sighs

"Starting next week all former Southside High students will be busted to Seaside High, which is 2 hours away" I say

"Meaning he blames us for trashing the school during riot night"

"I mean Pea you kinda did" I shrug as Sweet Pea folds his arms then sighs

"Whats our play? do we even have one?"

"I dunno anymore guys. Can't keep fighting for a gang that doesn't exist"

"I'm sorry what?" I say shocked

"Well what about us? or any of the other Serpents at the Wyrm?" Toni says annoyed

"What Serpents at the Wyrm?"

"How do you not know?" I ask.

We arrive at the Wyrm and Jughead is mad

"I don't understand"

"You saw what the Ghoulies did to most of sunnyside" Toni starts

"A lot of Serpents couldn't afford to leave Riverdale so we came here" Pea finishes

"YN has been working her butt off trying to nurse sick and injured back to health" Toni says

"Does my dad know about this?"

"Yes" I sigh

"Why did he keep this from me?"

"Because he knew you would want to fight for us” I shrug with a sad smile

"I'll fix this" Toni’s phone begins to ring. She walks away answering it

“How are you YN?” Jug asks

“Morning sickness is dreadful, but thankfully I’ve got Toni, Cheryl and Pea here to help me”

"Guys" Toni hangs up her phone walking back to us "that was Cheryl she said Sheriff Minetta is raiding the Wyrm. Start packing"

"Are you being serious?"

"I'm afraid so. Cheryls on her way”

"Take only what you absolutely need and can carry with you. We gotta pack light. Move quickly and quietly. Sheriff Minettas forces are all over looking for our blood. If we want our skulls to remain uncracked we have to go undetected"

"Go where Jughead theres nowhere safe" Sweet Pea says

"Weve been offered asylum on the Northside by Archie and his dad" I look at Pea then the rest of the Serpents. I pack lightly and Sweet Pea helps me to carry my bag. We reach the bridge that divides the Southside from the Northside I turn around with tears in my eye

"Come on don't look back" Pea says putting his arm over my shoulder and giving me a hug.

Fred and Archie hand out food for the Serpents as I sit down eating a sausage sandwich

"Bacon anyone" Fred says holding a pan

"What's going on here? You do all this"

"With an assistance from Archie. Toledo's gonna have to wait" Jug replies to his father

"Bulldogs helping Serpents, Fred Andrews opening up his house to a bunch of snakes. There goes the rest of your Northside vote buddy" FP slaps Fred on the back

"We're all neighbours here"

"How are you feeling YN?"

"Tired but I'm ok"

"Good. You taking care of her for Fangs?” FP points to Sweet Pea

"Of course, she’s one of my best friends”

"Hey Jug how many Serpent jackets you think we can borrow?"

“Not sure why?"

"You think enough for the whole school?"

"What are you thinking Andrews?" I raise an eyebrow

"I can't believe it. You even managed to get Reggie to wear one" I say shocked seeing all students wearing a Serpent jacket. Reggie walks over to us wearing the jacket. I give him a smile and we wait for the principle to come out of his office

After a few minutes he walks out

"What's the meaning of this?" he asks

"It's a show of support sir for the Southsiders who are being wrongly transferred out of our school. Everyone's ready to walk out" Archie says

"Any student who walks out better keep walking because they'll be expelled" I sigh feeling like weve been defeated

"Your a good man Principle Weatherbee your not the kind of person who discriminates and if you are. Then expel me because I don't wanna be a apart of that" there's a long pause

"Everyone get to class" I look up to Pea who's already looking at me smiling

"You think that means we're staying?" he asks

"Not sure but I think we have more of a chance. Plus look at this, this support for the Serpents, maybe things will start to get better for us"

"I hope so" Pea says. We go back to the student lounge to wait to hear what the results of the voting is

"Attention riverdale high students. The result of your student council election are in" this grabs everyone's attention "your new student body president is.... Archie Andrews" everyone starts cheering "In unrelated news for the foreseeable future all former Southside High students will remain at Riverdale High that is all" this causes everyone to cheer with happiness.

Once school is out the Serpents all head to Sweetwater river. I arrive with Fangs on crutches

"Fangs how you doing man?” Pea gives him a hug

"Listen up now. Alright listen up. Some 60 years ago the very first Serpent meeting took place on these same river banks. It's makes sense this is where we gather where I...." FP pauses "where I say my goodbye. Jughead, will you come here a minute"

"I'm retiring from the Serpents for good this time"

"What?" I say shocked

"Jughead has never stopped fighting for this crew. Hell he almost died for it. That's why I'm giving you the mantle” FP says to Jug. We starts cheering and clapping as FP hands a red jacket to Jughead

"I think you know what to do with this”

"I love you dad. And the Serpents will not die out. Not on my watch" Jug says he then slips the jacket on to Cheryl

"Welcome to the Serpents Cheryl" I shout

“We also need to say a welcome back to Fangs” Jughead claps. Sweet Pea pats his back making him wince in pain.

After the speeches, I help Fangs sit down, Pea gives him a drink

“You need to sit down YN”

“I’m fine babe, don’t worry” I lean down and give Fangs a kiss “also I have a scan tomorrow, wanna come and see your baby?”

“Hell yeah” Fangs kisses me again “oh and Sweet Pea. Thank you for taking care of YN while I was in hospital”

“Of course. We’re family”

#fangs fogarty #fangs fogarty x reader #fangs fogarty x Y/N #riverdale imagines #riverdale

[sirensplayhouse]

First of I hope you are feeling better. It’s been crazy here where I live with so many people getting sick even the hospitals are overcrowded. Just please keep yourself hydrated and safe. Second, well since I can’t be 🧍🏾‍♀️ anon, can I be 🛌 anon? 🤣🤣🤣 I mean that pretty much describes me. But I love your blog and you are truly amazing! (I love how you really don’t be giving a fck for the bullshit 😂😂😂😂😂)

thank you love 💓I am but, 😂mannnnn this is why I don’t leave my house 😭I know exactly who got me sick too🤏🏾so they better count they mf days , but OFC YOU CAN LOVE , welcome to the family happy to have you🫶🏾🕺🏾

and LMFAOOOOOO mannnn cos I don’t have time for y’all’s mess😂😂

#my ‘🛌’ anon #welcome to sirensplayhouse