#great grandma sweatshirt

[rainbow-baby-one]

Every great grandma sweatshirt is made with love! ❤️ 💗 💕

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You Broke Me First

Part 22

18+ minors DNI

Zoe tried to take her time on the stairs as she made her way down, but Cillian said he was going to kick the back of her knees and roll her down the stairs if she moved any slower. She considered it, thinking it's probably less painful then dealing with her mother.

"Your funeral," she mumbled to him. "remember, don't take anything she says to heart, she's rude and she doesn't even know it" she reminded him.

"would you relax? Do you know some of the people i worked with?" Cillian whispered back.

Zoe made her way to the kitchen where she found her mom by the island unpacking groceries. In the background, she could see Jen and her husband, John, sitting on the patio while Sophie was running around on the lawn.

"Look who decided to visit her mother!" Zoe's mom said, holding out her arms and making her way towards her. Zoe hugged her back, begrudgingly.

"Hey mom... you look great" Zoe said, pulling back and looking at her.

Zoe's mom always looked put together. She didn't own a single pair of sweatpants or a sweatshirt. Her blonde hair was blown out, curling slightly below her shoulders. She wore light blue linen pants and a white linen shirt with sandals and gold jewelry.

"And is this the man who's been keeping you away from me?" She said, turning to Cillian.

"No mom, I do that all on my own," Zoe said. "This is Cillian"

"Simone. Nice to meet you honey," Zoe's mom said, giving him a hug.

"Great to meet you too. Thanks so much for letting us stay and having me," Cillian replied.

"Oh, please. The more the merrier. I have this house and none of my kids visit me." She said, waving her hand around. "This one can't stand me so much she moved to the other side of the country for crying out loud!" She said, laughing. Cillian laughed back. Zoe looked between the two of them then shot Cillian a look. It'll be a cold day in hell before her mother and Cillian get along and form an alliance in front of her.

"Grandma!!!" Sophie said, running into the kitchen.

"Hi Angel," Zoe's mom said, leaning down to give her a hug. "But what did I tell you? Don't call me grandma. Now, can the almost birthday girl help me with the groceries?" She said, picking her up and placing her on the counter.

"Hey Ma," Jen said walking into the kitchen as well with John. John walked over to Cillian and shook his hand, keeping the introduction short and sweet, as it should be. John was always neutral and didn't get involved in any family drama. He knew the women in this family have stuff they need to talk through and he wasn't about to get in the middle of it. He would keep his distance and remove himself and leave the room if it started getting loud or an argument started ... and he would pray if they were to ever have a second child, it would be a boy.

"I think I'll do a pesto sauce tonight? Is that okay with everyone?" Zoe's mom announced. Everyone nodded their head.

"Zoe, why don't you go freshen up. You look tired," She continued.

Zoe's jaw tightened and her nostrils flared. "Thanks, mom. Maybe I will. Come on, Cill" She said, grabbing Cillian's arm and pulling him out of the room. She heard him stifle a laugh as they made it to the stairs.

They made it to the bedroom and she shoved him in and closed the door behind her.

"Don't you think for one second you're gonna gang up with her this weekend," She said, pointing her finger at him.

Cillian let out the laugh he was holding in. "You just gotta laugh, don't take it so seriously." He said.

"No I don't have to laugh. I wish it was sunday already and we were flying back," She said, flopping onto the bed.

"I'm sorry. How can I help?" Cillian said, sitting on the bed next to you.

"I don't know. But I think i'm gonna take a shower," She said, sitting up and heading towards the bathroom. "I'll just be a few minutes."

Cillian laid back on the bed and had every intention of shutting his eyes for a few minutes. Zoe had left the bathroom door opened so he heard her turn the water on. He opened one eye and could only see her shadow, she was too far into the bathroom off to the side for him to see her full figure.

But he DID see her throw her clothes onto the ground. Including her bra. Right in his eyesight.

Cillian lifted one eyebrow staring at her bra as he felt the blood rush to his cock. Something about seeing her bra on the floor, like the first night he ever stepped foot in her apartment, turned him on. He now heard her pull back the shower door and step inside. He sat up on his elbows and weighed his options. The bedroom door was closed... he got off the bed and made his way towards it, locking the door. He stepped to the window and looked into the yard, where he could see Zoe's mom, sister, brother in law and niece outside. He looked again towards the bathroom and smirked as he took his shirt off.

Zoe was in the shower letting the water run down her back, relaxing her muscles. She wonder how hot the water she could make it without giving her serious burns. The water was already pretty hot and the steam was thick in the bathroom. She could stay in here forever.

Suddenly she felt hands on her hips.

"What the -" She yelled, spinning around. Cillian quickly covered his mouth with his hand. She looked up at him, as the water bounced off of his now wet body, hair plastered to his forehead.

"Can you be quiet for me?" he said lowly. He could feel her smirk under his hand as she nodded.

"yea? You think so?" He replied, removing his hand and moving it down her jaw, neck, breast, stomach, landing right above where she wanted him the most. "I think I should test that theory" He said, diving into her folds.

Zoe sucked in a breath and bit her lip. He glared at her. "You know what biting that lip does to me," He said, kissing her roughly. She kissed him back, grabbing him and tangling her hands in his short hair. She took one hand and dragged it down to his cock, stroking it slowly. He groaned into her mouth.

"You have no idea what you do to me," He said, pulling away slightly from her lips. She smiled at him and leaned forward, kissing him again as she hooked her leg over her hip. Cillian grabbed it with his free hand and held it in place.

"We gotta make this quick, it's so hot in here I'm gonna pass out - how fucking hot do you have the fuckin' water in here?" Cillian said, breaking away to look at the faucet.

Zoe laughed and pulled his face towards him. "Are you gonna fuck me or are you gonna take the temperature?" she said, biting her lip.

Cillian's eyes went dark as he grabbed his cock and lined himself up with her, slowly pushing into her. Zoe threw her head back against the wall, feeling him stretch her out. He finally bottomed out and stayed there for a couple seconds, placing kisses on her neck and chest.

He finally started moving, a few slow strokes then faster, hitting just the right spot in Zoe to make her moan entirely too loud.

"Shhh" Cillian said, not slowing down. "What did I say? Do I need to cover your mouth?"

Before Zoe could even control it, she let out a moan. Cillian smiled.

"You would like that, don't you?" He said, hand coming back up to cover her mouth. "What my girl wants, my girl gets."

My girl.

Cillian knew just what to say to set her off.

"Please" she mumbled behind his hand.

"Please what?" He said, still fucking up into her. The angle was too perfect for both of them.

"Is my girl going to cum?" He asked.

there it is again; my girl.

Zoe felt her muscles tighten around him at him calling her his. Truth is, it did turn her on. Cillian groaned. "that's it, keep squeezing me like that," He said, fucking her harder as a hand slipped between her and rubbed her clit.

With the added pressure, Zoe couldn't hold back any longer. She squeezed her eyes shut as her orgasm hit her, with a muffled moan behind Cillian's hand.

"Fuck," Cillian moaned, thrusts now starting to falter. "You feel so good cumnming on my cock... going to fill you up... you feel so good baby... He said, chasing his release.

Zoe's hip fell from being hooked around his hip, and she tried to lift it but her legs felt like jello. With Cillian's now free hand, he held it against his hip as he came a groan, spilling inside of her. Forehead pressed against hers, breathing heavy as he came down from his high. He removed his hand from her mouth and placed both hands on her hips instead as he tried to get his breathing back to normal. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.

There was a couple minutes of complete silence while they held each other; only sounds were the shower water and their labored breathing filled the room. There was a lingering feeling Zoe felt, and it was eating at her inside. She wanted to express how happy she was with him, how safe and comfortable she felt... but it was too soon. She couldn't say that. And there's no way he could feel it either... right?

Cillian finally pulled away and looked at her, wiping her cheek with his thumb.

"You are so.. so perfect Zoe." He whispered. "... But these showers are too fucking hot" he added.

Zoe laughed. "Wanna take a cold shower with me then?"

"I'm gonna have to. I can't tell what's sweat and what's water at this point. I also might have to sit before I pass out"

"okay dramatic" Zoe said, laughing.

After Zoe and Cillian showered (for real this time) and got dressed, they made their way downstairs to the kitchen. Zoe's mom and Sophie were at the kitchen island, mixing the penne and pesto sauce together. Sophie was sitting on the island countertop with a wooden spoon mixing, and Zoe's mom was supervising.

"ZoZo, i picked-ed I picked the basil myself" Sophie said upon seeing her enter the room.

"You did??? Big girl cooking dinner for us!" She said, walking over and giving her a squeeze.

"Yea, her and mom went outside to pick the basil from the garden and then I got assigned the job of picking out all grass Sophie picked instead of basil... so, you're welcome everybody" Jen said, butting in. She grabbed a bottle of wine and bunch of glasses, offering Cillian one and pouring it for him.

"She did a great job, let's all go sit down," Zoe's mom said, bringing the big bowl to the table and placing it in the center. They all gathered around the table and took their seats. Zoe took the initiative to start serving people. She grabbed her mother's plate before her mom grabbed her wrist. "Not a lot, Zoe, I'm taking pilates classes. I can't have too many carbs."

Zoe stared at her. "Then why did you make so much?"

"Because you eat enough for all of us, and I knew you're not eating right over wherever the hell you are," She replied, waving her hand as if she couldn't be bothered.

"I what??!" Zoe exclaimed, setting the spoon down.

Cillian froze, Jen audibly sighed, John took a large gulp of his wine, and Sophie continued to bang her fork on the plate.

"What? What did I say? I'm your mother, I just hope you're eating enough. You used to eat 3 bowls of pasta when you were growing up for dinner. I just want to make sure you eat. Pardon me for caring," Her mom replied.

"You know mom, you have a funny way of showing you care," Zoe said, picking the spoon back up and started serving everyone.

"I served myself last to make sure everyone else got their servings, since, you know, I eat all the food apparently," Zoe said, finishing up her portion and sitting back down.

"Cillian, how's filming Peaky?" Jen said, trying to change the subject.

"What's Peaky?" Zoe's mom chimed in.

"It's a fucking good show, that's what it is. How long you keepin' the haircut?" John interjected.

CiIlian laughed. "For a couple more weeks, then I start the process of growing it out which is a pain,"

"I'm not a fan of your hair," Zoe's mom stated. Zoe shot a look at her mom. "Mom seriously?"

"Me neither, honestly" Cillian said, letting the comment roll off his back.

"My Husband used to love Netflix. I don't even know how to work the thing. I don't understand streaming. It's like cable, right?"

Zoe groaned. "Can this not be a IT consultation and just have it be dinner?"

"Does Esme ever come back with John's kids?" John asked.

"How often do you have to shave the sides?" Jen interjected, still stuck on the topic of the haircut.

"Peaky, Peaky, Peaky," Sophie said out loud to herself as she played with her pasta.

"But does the streaming have a TV guide? how do I know when shows are on? Do I have to pay for this?" Zoe's mom added.

"OKAY LETS PLAY THE QUIET GAME" Zoe yelled, hoping for peaceful rest of the dinner.

Zoe woke up and rolled over, feeling Cillian's arm draped over her. She looked at the time; 5am.

They had survived the rest of the dinner, and Cillian handed the interrogation - i mean, questions, perfectly. He was calm, patient, and even explained streaming vs cable to Zoe's mom. Will she retain the information? probably not, but let's see how calm and cool Cillian is the 45th time she asks how it works in a week span.

Zoe laid on her back, then turned her head to the window. She was wide awake, and she wanted to do something she hasn't done in a long time... not since the last time she was back home.

Not since her father died.

"Cillian," Zoe whispered, poking him in the side. He grunted, but eyes remained closed.

"Cillian, wake up," she said louder, pushing him harder. He groaned, and opened his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, get up, I'm taking you somewhere," Zoe said, pulling back the covers.

"What?" Cillian mumbled, confused.

"Get. Up. let's go, we don't have much time," She said, pulling on a hoodie.

Cillian sat up and stretched. "Where are we going? at 5am?" Cillian said, rubbing his hand through his hair.

"Just put on a hoodie and grab your shoes, let's go lets go!!!" Zoe said excitedly, grabbing a blanket from her closet.

"Please don't take me to that diner, it's 5am I reserve fried foods for at least 8am" Cillian groaned, getting out of bed and pulling a hoodie from his suitcase, and slipping his sneakers on.

The two of them made their way down the stairs, through the kitchen, and into the backyard. They walked to the far end, and unlocked the gate and made their way onto the beach. It wasn't pitch black, but it was still pretty dark.

Zoe took her shoes off and continued walking onto the sand. Cillian wasn't walking as fast as her as he was still waking up.

"Come on, hurry up!!" She yelled softly behind her.

"You know, this isn't what I had in mind when I said I liked waking up next to you. This is torture, I like sleep" Cillian replied, talking through a yawn. "Is this what it's going to be like back at home? You waking me up and dragging me somewhere? Is this some sort of initiation? Does Scout have to do this too-"

"You're talking too much for 5am," Zoe cut in, finally stopping and laying down the blanket. After smoothing it out, she sat down in the middle and left space for him next to her. Cillian plopped down next to her, laying down on his back while she stayed sitting up right. "Whoever said sleeping on the beach is romantic is a liar. Sand is uncomfortable," He said, adjusting.

"You've been awake for 10 minutes and you'e done nothing but complain, but sit up, it's happening!!" Zoe said, hitting his leg.

Confused, Cillian sat up and followed her gaze out to the ocean.

"Woahhhh...." Cillian said, staring out at the sky that was now painted an orange/purple color. In the distance, the sun starting to rise just at the horizon.

Cillian adjusted himself, and sat behind Zoe with his legs on either side of her. She leaned back into him and he wrapped his arms around her, placing his head on her shoulders. She leaned her head against his, not saying a word. She couldn't be closer to him and yet, she wanted to be. She didn't want an inch of her body untouched by him.

"Beautiful," Cillian said softly, right next to Zoe's ear.

Zoe never felt more comfortable sitting in silence with someone. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I used to do this with... my dad. He would do 48 hour shifts sometimes at the firehouse... he would come home around this time. He would wake me up, bundle me in his arms and walk me down to the beach and we would watch it together. I haven't done it in such a long time... not since he died."

"Keep doing it," Cillian said. "Don't be afraid to do things you used to do with him because you might get sad. Things like this keeps him alive. Talking about him, sharing stories with people... it makes you feel better. Because then you tell the funny stories and you laugh. And other people laugh with you. And then suddenly your day and other people's days are a little brighter because they laughed over something he did. that's how you keep a memory of someone alive," Cillian said, squeezing her tigher.

Zoe smiled, a teardrop quietly trailing down her cheek.

"This is my favorite place to be," Zoe said. "And I wanted to take you here. I wanted you to see it."

Cillian smiled. "I'd go anywhere with you. Thank you," He said, kissing her temple.

"I wish I could freeze time right here. I want to stay like this forever. Everything quiet. Everything good. Like a clean slate. But then once the sun is up life goes back to normal. It's these quick couple of minutes it's like watching everything reset and restart. God, I want to be this happy forever," Zoe said, leaning back further into Cillian and closing her eyes.

"You will be, babe. I promise."

Zoe chucked. "Yea, we'll see."

After about 15 minutes, the sun was up and people were staring to join them on the beach. Many of them going for a morning run, some fishing, and some just walking.

"We should head back," Cillian said, stretching. Zoe groaned. "I don't wannaaaaa" she whined, laying back onto the sand.

"We have a birthday party to attend. the social event of the year, and I have no clue what I'm wearing," Cillian joked, standing up and holding out his hand her. Zoe took it and stood up, leaning into him and giving him a kiss.

"Ugh, fine. Let's go" She groaned, hand in and started the walk back, hand in hand with him.

"Come on, we'll be alright," He said, squeezing her hand.

Zoe took in her surroundings as she walked home with him. If you would of told her a year ago she'd be walking home from watching the sunrise on the beach with Cillian Murphy, something she doesn't do with ANYONE, she would never believe you. And, for the first time in years, she felt a lot calmer about being home. She felt safe... with him next to her. She felt like she could get through anything with him by her side. That's all she wanted, was to be next to him. All of these new feelings she felt - all the good ones - were because of him.

"yea..." She replied to him, smiling. "Maybe we will. We'll be alright."

tags: @lau219 @shopgirl6us @borntodiemp3

[strrvnge]

Sleepless Nights

Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Warning : absolutely non, making out(?), idiots in love trope, not one of my best works

"In the kitchen" Sherlock exclaimed and you followed the voice to the room.

"You didn't know who it was. It could be a thief" you said with a smile seeing your friend, working with some chemicals.

"With keys? Quit organized he is"

"John told me to come and check on you while he's at Shara's. How come and you're not sleeping?" You asked to take off your coat and sat on the chair opposite of him.

"How come and you're not? it's quite late for you to be walking out alone"

"I was in a date"you rested your head on your hands and his eyes only now lifted from his work.

"Oh really? Who is it? That idiot who spends all his time at the gym or that one who's obsessed with his mom?"

"You don't know him but it doesn't really matter anyways"

"Well obviously. you're here so the date must have been horrible"

"It was. I had to say my grandma had an accident to escape"

"I don't understand why you're so persistent in finding a boyfriend. Don't we have fun?" he said, taking off his protective glasses to rub his eyes.

"How long has it been since the last time you slept?" You asked, avoiding his question.

"I don't know for a while?" He rose up going to the counter to pour himself another cup of coffee.

"Define a while for me please"

"The last time you came and played monopoly with us"

"That was three days ago!"you said and quickly took the cup from his hands.

"Well I found there is a huge hole in resources on drugs made from plants so I had to do some work. Did you know reserpine that is prescribed for high blood pressure is also used to treat severe agitation in patients with mental disorders"

"I'll ignore how illegal that is and move on. Sherlock you look quite exhausted" you stopped observing his face, the dark circles under his puffy eyes. Avoiding your eyes Sherlock looked down at the floor.

"Anyways" he said quickly, clearing his throat and walking past you to the living room.

"Wait don't go"

"No I pormise I'm perfectly fine"

"Okay then. Would you mind if I stay for the night? It's quite late and I don't want to take a cub"

"Yes of course"he said, rubbing once more his eyes.

Taking his hand into yours, you removed them from his eyes, not to irritate them . With big red eyes his gaze moved from your eyes down to your hands, tangled together, making his breath catch in his throat.

"Are you sure you're not sleepy?" You asked sweetly

"Now you mention it yes I am" he quickly said, pulling his hands away.

"Great, let's get you in bed then" you said, walking to his room and he followed you like a dog from behind.

"We'll need you to change clothes. Do you have any pijamas?"

"Last time I saw them they were in the kitchen i think" he said and sat on his bed.

"Very englitenning '' you murmured looking around his wardrobe. "Oh here they are. Catch"you said and threw them his way.

"I really don't like the fabric of it. Its kinda itchy"

"Just put it on!" He rolled his eyes, huffing annoyed as he made his way to the bathroom.

"You don't have to do this, you know. I'll just read a book till eventually feel sleepy" he shouted so you could hear him.

"Please Sherlock stop whining, you need sleep" you said and glaring at you he walked out from the bathroom and went to sit on his bed.

"But I don't want to go to sleep" he pouted and you kneeled down to face him, as if he was a whiny child. His gaze instantly went to your hands as you rested them on his thigh before quickly looking up to your eyes afraid you would pull back.

You tilted your head in disbelief, the dark circles under his eyes proof of all those sleepless nights. Noticing a lint on his hair from the sweatshirt you ran your hand through his messy hair a soft purr almost a groan leaving his parted lips.

Taken back you looked at him surprised to find him already staring at you with wide puppy eyes, internally begging for you not to stop.

Tenderly you ran your hand through his messy hair, your fingers twirling his curls, his eyes slowly shutting close relishing in your affections.

You smelled like vanilla and cinnamon, a sweet and comforting scent calling him in. Your hands moved to the sides of your face, caressing them gently afraid he might pull back. Your hand was warm and soft against his skin making it impossible not to fall asleep.

His head pressed harder against your hand before his chin rested on your shoulder. You left a quiet chuckle that vibrated on your body making him hum with a shy smile on his face.

Your hand rubbed circles on his back, his body melting in your touch, his muscles becoming less stiff and tensed.His face snuggling on your neck, rubbing against your soft skin, bathing himself in your scent, feeling slowly drifting off. You were so sweet and tender, holding him in a way no one had ever done before and had always been so afraid to ask anyone.

He wasn't sure what it was he was feeling just that he didn't want you to go. Of Course a wave of shame came with it but if he could choose without the constant nagging of his internal monologue he would stay there forever. Between your arms with his head snuggled in your neck where it's safe and warm as you caressed his hair, his face, everything. He wanted to get lost in your touch, in your scent, in your warmth he couldn't hold himself back anymore. No, he was too tired for that.

"Your soft hands, your tender touch he could only imagine what your kiss would be like. and the fact that you offered them to every idiot who didn't deserve them. "He thought and shyly peaked at your face. Your plump lips how he wished they were his. To kiss sweetly at moments like this and devour them in others.

And just as he was lost in his thoughts he let himself slip for a moment and pressed a kiss on your shoulder.

Before you could even react, his hand was placed on your cheek, weakly his sleepy self turning your face closer to his, kissing you now on the lips.

He tasted like confusion and guilt. A mix of cigarettes and gray tea all dipped into a sea of indecisiveness and desperate neediness. He kissed you with force, fulfilling a long suppressed desire yet at the same time he was slow in the most errotic and exposed way, taking his time to relish all of you.

He kissed you again and then one more time before slightly pulling away to peek at your now scarlet face, wide unsure eyes waiting for your approval and perhaps even forgiveness.

He wasn't supposed to feel that way. Not for his friend, not for anyone. He wasn't supposed to fall onto the "love trap" , that false notion every foolish person stupidly believes in. No, there was no mystery when it came to love, it was a chemical reaction, the pleasure you offered him was nothing but purely physical, however the warmth you provided was something he couldn't really understand.

"Sherlock" your whisper came out almost like a whimper, a need, a request. You wanted more.

He quickly raised his head from your shoulder, suddenly waking up sitting up stiffly on the bed, like a child waiting to be punished. He knew he shouldn't want it but he really wanted you to want it, want him.

Still on your knees you looked up at him before carefully -expecting him to change his mind at any moment- bringing him by the chin you kissed him.

Sherlock's eyes were open, frowning in confusion, some of the few times he couldn't comprehend something.

"Y/N" he groaned your name as you slightly bit his lower lip giving you the chance to deepen the kiss using your tongue.

He was such a submissive kisser. A load of moans and unsteady breaths as he tried to take it all in while keeping his sanity.

your hands now sliding up his thigh as you leaned forward to reach him and he could swear his mind stopped for a second. Now he was awake.

He could feel himself become stiff in his pants, an almost profound feeling he hadn't felt for quite some time.

A hit rose up inside him, his hand wrapped now around your neck making you end the kiss to take a breath.

He looked down at you out of breath, your eyes meeting with the same type of mischievousness sparkling in them as your hands moved closer to his bulge.

Before you could even do a thing you heard the apartment's door opening and some well known footsteps getting inside.

"Guys!? You won't believe the craziest thing just happened"

Note: That's a lazy end I know but I really couldn't bring myself writing further. Perhaps I'll write an alternative ending perhaps not dunno

[spacefinch]

May: So my family has a gay pirate plate. Stay with me.

May: We do not know how the hell the Gay Pirate Plate was first acquired. This being a point of contention is actually pretty plot-relevant; the saga of the Gay Pirate Plate began with my grandmother and her sister, who, for some ungodly reason, both BADLY wanted the Gay Pirate Plate and believed it to be rightfully theirs.

May: I should back up, firstly, to establish: The Gay Pirate Plate is the cheapest, tackiest, ugliest plate in existence. It is in no way a collector’s item. It is physically impossible for it to complement anyone’s decor, because the colors in it are garish. It’s just a ceramic plate with a gay pirate painted on it, and the painting is, this cannot be emphasized enough, extremely bad.

May: My grandmother and her sister fought a blood feud over this plate for their entire lives. It would be on the wall in my grandma’s house, and then her sister would visit, and then it would be gone. She’d visit her sister and the plate would be on the wall and her sister would pretend it had always been there. She would steal it back, hang it up, and, when her sister visited, pretend it had always been there. This continued for DECADES.

May: When the sister died, the Gay Pirate Plate lived triumphantly in my grandmother’s house. And then my grandmother died. And my aunt, who had lived with her and been her carer throughout her life, rightfully inherited their house.

May: We visit my aunt after the funeral and stay with her for a week or two.

May: Me, my brother, our mom, and our dad Norman. AKA my aunt's brother.

May: The four of us look at each other. We don’t say anything. We studiously avoid making eye contact with the Gay Pirate Plate mounted proud and ugly on the wall. We notice one another studiously avoiding looking at it. We notice one another noticing. We say nothing. We come to a silent consensus. We pack up to leave. We get in the van. Our aunt comes out to say goodbye. I loudly announce I need to use the restroom before we leave. She obviously stays outside to continue talking to my dad.

May: I take down the Gay Pirate Plate, stuff it under my oversized sweatshirt, go outside, and get in the van. She happily waves goodbye as we drive off.

May: Two days later my dad gets a phone call that opens with hysterical laughter and “You FUCKING ASSHOLE did you seriously STEAL THE PLATE–”

May: Anyway. The gay pirate plate lives in my parents' house currently.

May: But my dad's trying to get me out to visit him. And plate mounts are cheap.

May: The rules of Gay Pirate Plate are simple by the way.

The plate must be clearly and openly displayed in a place of great prominence whenever it is in your possession. When it is not in your possession, the display piece must remain in place. This is where you would put your gay pirate plate, IF YOU HAD ONE.

No active steps may be taken to prevent the theft of the Gay Pirate Plate. That goes against the spirit of the game, as does attempting to hide it.

The plate MUST be stolen and cannot be gifted or removed with permission. Should you witness attempted theft of the Gay Pirate Plate you are required to intervene and return it to its place.

Every time your sibling successfully absconds with the Gay Pirate Plate, you must respond with indignant fury, as if you have not also repeatedly and blatantly stolen the Gay Pirate Plate.

(inspiration: this legendary post)

More notes below the cut

The "Gay Pirate Plate" in May's family has a painting of what appears to be Team Aqua Leader Archie's ancestor.

At the time of writing the post on Rotomblr, May is an adult and thus has moved out of her parents' house.

Sometimes the Gay Pirate Plate lives in May's parents' house in Littleroot Town. Sometimes it lives in Norman's Gym in Petalburg City.

When May's paternal grandmother and great-aunt were still alive, the Gay Pirate Plate lived in Olivine City.

The tradition has been going on for DECADES.

[sisilafami]

2023

Rap:

Sexyy Red - Hood Hottest Princess & (Deluxe)

Veeze - Ganger

Babyface Ray - Summer's Mine

MarijuanaXO & Joe Pablo - 30 Mil No Deal

BabyDrill - MadMan

SME TaxFree - Standin On Bidness / Im Still Industreets / Just Like Brothers (w/Big Homie Dre Cash)

Lil Yachty - 2023 singles

BandGang Lonnie Bands - Bam Bam / Provisions / Can't Ban the Bandman 2

Wizz Havinn - Super Wizz / Super Wizz_ The Sequel

Paco Panama - The Wire Vol. 1 / The Matrix / Faces of the Hill (w/Deemuney)

Armand Hammer - We Buy Diabetic Test Strips

Niontay - Dontay's Inferno / Demon Muppy

ICYTWAT - Siddhi World (Deluxe) / Final Boss / HAVE MERCY ON US /G4ost 2 / 4 tha Troopz

youngfootsoldier - Life Of A Young Soldier / Most Wanted

KP SKYWALKA - GRANDMA HOUSE (DELUXE) / Rhythm N Bip

YT - #STILLSWAGGIN

LUCKI - s_x m_ney dr_gs

Tae Rackzz - Who is Ju

Smoke Chapo - Over The Counter (Deluxe)

Ken Carson - A Great Chaos

YTB Fatt - Who Is Fatt / Foxes Only

Ethan Uno - Bachata Jersey Youtubes 2023

Mariboy Mula Mar - Effortless / Bitty Breaker / No auto mar 2 / Mula ova errthing

2Sdxrt3all - FUCK SCHOOL / Stop Holdin Nuts / gotta be geeked

Mari Montana - Outstanding Member

Lil 2 Dow - 21 Gun Salute

RRB Duck - Half Man Half Dog / Back In Da K / Scrooge McDuck Vol 1 & 2

Glokk40Spaz - Took The Biggest Risk 

Baby Osamaa - Tank Girl

D30 - Sorry 2 My Fans / Trappers & Scammers

WifiGAWD - Been Bout It / BLOCK MUSIC

OsamaSon - Osama Season / Flex Musix

Mike - Burning Desire

TisaKorean - Let Me Update My Status

CEO Trayle - The Collection Vol. 2

Slimesito - Paid N Full / RSG

HM:

454 & SURF GANG - FAST 5

786 Ju - 786 Year

Akai Solo - Verticality/Singularity

Anycia - EXTRA

BabyK turnt - $tack Or Starve / Rich B4 A Deal

Bb Trickz - Trickstar

Bear1Boss - Lil hotsauce / GlacierGuru

Beatking - She Won't Leave Houston

Bigskiis - MR. Ouuweee Scusemee

Billy Woods - Maps

Bucky Malone - DERREN

Cash Cobain - Pretty Girls Love Slizzy / Slizzy Day

Chavo - Chavo's World 3

Che - Crueger / Closed Captions

Chloe Hotline - jouissancé

Chicken P - BussaBrick Vol.3 ReallyRich4eva / Ain’t Lost Shit

Dani Kiyoko - REAL $tREET RUNNA 3

DaeMoney - Slae Season 3

Dai Ballin - 844 pt.3 / 448 Pt. 2

Durkalini - PYRO THE PASTOR

Four50 - DRUNKEN STYLE

Devstacks - Scriptures

Earl Sweatshirt - VOIR DIRE

El Cousteau - Dirty Harry

Funny $money - Dont Talk 2 Much, Vol. 2 / Trap Money (w/ Trap Baby)

HavinMotion - Bang Music

J Billz - Streetz Hottest Young'n

Ju Swipin - #786FreeBro

L5 - Blood on switch st

Lil Gray - Swipe Renaissance

Lil Tony Official - TKEY / Chasin Pape deluxe (w/PCF Jaey)

Lilqua 50 - Only For The Fans

Los - War On Drugs 2

Lucille Ghatti - BLACK BALLED

ManMan Savage - For Players Only

Moh Baretta - Unorthodox

NBA YoungBoy - Don't Try This At Home

NeedNoName - All Off Backendz 2 Deluxe

Popstar Benny - University!

Raised Round Bosses - Ain't NuN Better Den A Cracking Phone Vol 2

Reace Sosa - Till I Touch The Ground Again

RealYungPhil - Victory Music

Reed - Downtown Chronicles

Rob Lee - Level Up

Rx Papi - Marlo

Rylo Rodriguez - Been One

SCY Jimm - Trench Baby / Highly Favored

Sérane - SGPM

Shaudy Kash - On The Yeah Side 2

Sideshow - DON’T JUST STAND THERE!

SparkHeem - Survivors Guilt

Starlito - LOVE DRUG

Subiibabii - Subiworld / swagg school / WEBB

Super Throwed Dave - Smacking Fire

Talinwya - BiRDMAN & Deluxe

Teeglazedit - The Blueprint

TrapKane - Free My Team

Tree - FREE TREE

Yung Threat - Se Grim Reaper

Valee - CAR TOONS

Vayda - breeze

Wiki - 14K Figaro

Contemporary : 

Lionel Marchetti - MÉANDRE(S)

Eva-Maria Houben - Toccata et Fuga (celebrating our disorientation)

Ayami Suzuki & Leo Okagawa - while it's warm

Graham Lambkin - No Better No Worse Vol 3

Stephen Yip - By Moonflowers

Jim O'Rourke - Steamroom 61

Atte Elias Kantonen - a path with a name

Natasha Barrett - Reconfiguring the Landscape

Action Pyramid & Jack Greenhalgh - Mardle: Daily Rhythms of a Pond

Véhicule - Aubusson

Antoine Beuger & Anastassis Philippakopoulos - floating by

Mordecoli - Château Mordécoly

Jana Winderen - The Blue Beyond

Kate Carr - on cabbages, salt, bacteria and transformations

MP Hopkins - Misting

Maddalena Comunale Massaro - La Religione Degli Insetti

Zizia - Genera

Sunik Kim - Potential

DDK Trio - A Right to Silence

Damon Smith, Louis Wall & NNN Cook - Fire Point

David Velez - Beta Vulgaris

Digital Beats :

Chuquimamani-Condori - DJ E

Ghost Notes Worldwide with billdifferen_ Funk Special mix 24/08/2023

Nidia - 95 MINDJERES

Tropa do Bruxo - Baile do Bruxo (DELUXE)

Dj Nigga Fox - Gás Natural 2 (Dedicação ao Nagrelha)

Nondi_ - Flood City Trax

Olof Dreijer - Rosa Rugosa EP

jaijiu - SET ULTRARRÁPIDO DE 10 MIN FUNK 260 BPM

DJ Manny - Hypnotized

Maryyx2 - Silent Noise (The Album)

Speaker Music - Techxodus

HiTech - DÉTWAT

Amal - PRESSURE

Emma DJ - g0drm2

DJ Smiley Bobby - Dhol Tasha Drum Exercises from Maharashtra

Dj Wesley Gonzaga - Antidepressivo

R’n’B:

Amaarae - Fountain Baby

Brent Faiyaz - Larger Than Life

Lucille Ghatti - Tears from a clown

Jim Legxacy - homeless n_gga pop music

Vontee the Singer - LOVERS & FRIENDS

Other stuff: 

John T. Gast - SINEAD MEMORY TAPE (2015)

Canva6 - Cco2

Model Home - endless spool / SMMR MMRY / 20 / JuJu MineField

Matana Roberts - Coin Coin Chapter Five_ In the garden

Nourished by Time - Erotic Probiotic 2

Jeff Tobias - Music from Milky Way Underground

Aprxel - tapetumlucidum_3

Fever Ray - Radical Romantics

Rắn Cạp Đuôi - *1

Sbatax - Spires

NewJeans - Get Up

Babsy Konate - Tounga

New old :

Black Rob - Life Story 2

Don Cherry & Jean Schwarz - Roundtrip (1977) (Live)

Hiroyuki Onogawa - August in the Water- Music for Film 1995-2005

Jon Hassell - Further Fictions [Rec. 1989]

Lil Kev - Lil Kev Mix 04-18-12 (Full Mixtape) (youtube)

Main Source - The Science

Primetime and Digga - PRIMETIME & DIGGA GREATEST HITS

Various Artists - Unruly Records Anthology - 1991-1995 (The Early Years)

[starry-snippets]

Captivate you. (band au! aot)

chapter 1 of the aot band au! also on ao3 if you want to read it there! I include song links here on tumblr but not on ao3. I think it's more immersive w this format... but that's just me!

chapter tws include floch being an asshole, implied/speculated toxic relationship, provocative music, suggestive/adult themes, one line about connie's junk

Chapter 1: Cruel Summer

The music in his car is always so loud. Typically you don’t mind but you’re already feeling a tension headache developing between your temples. As if stretching a rubber band in your brain isn’t painful enough, Floch decides to snap it against your head as he yells, “Babe, get out! We’re here.” At least the Britney Spears song, I’m a Slave 4 U, stops playing. Not that you don’t like Britney. You just don’t like Britney when she’s blasting at full volume in your boyfriend kia stinger.

As you step away from the red car, paint chips peeling off the car door, you have to race to catch up with Floch. His music is playing so loudly you can hear it even though his earbuds are snug in his ear. Now he’s listening to Ride by Sir Mix-A-Lot. Of course he is. He’s bobbing his head offbeat as you reach out to grab his sleeve. You don’t know why you’re so scared to get his attention. You’ve been dating for five months now and it’s felt pretty great until recently.

“Hey, slow down. I don’t know where we’re heading.” You manage to tell him, gently snagging his baggy sweatshirt sleeve and also successfully pissing him off based on the scowl he wears.

“What the hell? Why are you so damn slow? Just walk, babe.” Floch responds before yanking his arm away. He then walks faster as if to spite you. As if he wants to lose sight of you. You shake that thought from your head, physically due to the persistent panic now running through you, as you run to catch up with him. Glancing back with a simper, Floch grins further when he sees you run after him. Is he doing this to make himself feel better? Surely not…

Those anxiety riddled worries dissipate as you enter a retail store inside the mall. Thankfully, the lights are dim. Not all too luminous, more closely resembling a club with twinkling stars hanging from the ceiling adding enough light to see but not grow ill from the fluorescent lights like they have in universities and offices. It’s a creative lighting fixture and honestly you can get behind it. While you appreciate the gentle luminosity of the store you’re pulling by Floch, his hand wrapping around your wrist possessively. As we fully enter the establishment, music filling my ears and it not being Floch’s, I realize it doesn’t match the quaint, elegant atmosphere established.

Hi, I’m a Slut is playing on the intercoms. Grandmas looking at shawls with their husbands furrow their brows with disgust, mothers cover the ears of their young adult children as if they haven’t heard that word before while their husbands crack up at the licentious lyrics. Amidst the disappointment and disgust, one boy with tanned skin and an overgrown buzz cut is grinning. He’s even chuckling; his hand covering his mouth as he elbows a brunette besides him. The retail employee laughs so hard he leans forward against the counter, the girl beside him with her dark brown ponytail swaying back and forth as she wobbles with her guffaws too, and cackles like a hyena at the harmless prank he’s pulled. The girl besides him smacks his back, prompting him to begin coughing and sputtering and laughing in between his asphyxiation.

It seems like it’d be fun to work here. Of course Floch disagrees, somehow knowing exactly what you’re thinking to ruin your minute joy. “Fucking morons. Let’s go buy something hot and sexy for you to wear to this concert, babe.” His hand tightens around your wrist as he pulls you to the section with more provocative - not exactly lingerie - garments. Dresses with large slits at the hips, shirts with keyholes to expose cleavage, skirts so short it’s amazing they aren’t accused of being belts. Not exactly what you typically… not what you’ve ever worn. “Damn babe, this would look so good on you.”

Floch groans as he says the words, making you bite back bile, while holding up a hanger. Draped on the hanger is a sweater with a massive keyhole in the front to expose your chest down the length of your sternum. What the fuck?

“I don’t know about that.” You tell him with a small chuckle as if it’ll lessen whatever response he’ll have to you indirectly saying no. He hasn’t always been this way… at least, you don’t think he’s been this way your whole relationship.

“Well, I know.” Floch interjects, grinning. His expression is so coy and sly. So often he is smug and presenting himself with delusional confidence. “So let’s try it on, baby.” Before you can protest, or maybe even change your mind and agree to please this asshole, you’re led to the changing rooms. Suddenly it feels like all eyes are on you when Floch snides, “can’t wait to see some skin,” before pushing you inside the confines of the stall.

Twisting the knob to leave and talk to him like a civil person, you discover you can’t open the door. From the outside Floch is tapping his foot, one hand texting on his phone with a grin, while his other hand is holding the doorknob on the other side so you can’t open it. Superman by Eminem is now playing after the prolonged silence (besides those two people at the register dying of laughter) following the more provocative track that greeted you and your boyfriend.

It’s ironic, you guess.

Taking a look at the sweater, you can’t help but sigh. The fabric is heavy and hot and haughty. Pretentious but poorly made. Strands jut out from the stitch and it’s clear some poor, underpaid individual likely made this and then this store added a crazy markup. With a cheek of the tag you confirm your intuition when you see it’s marked for $179. As the sale price. Hell no.

“Floch, baby, c’mon let me out,” Chuckling awkwardly, you jostle the knob to indicate you’re serious. “This thing is itchy and expensive. Let’s get something better. It’s also crazy hot right now, so I don’t want to wear a sweater.” You explain, hoping that he’ll be compassionate and understand that.

Silence.

It’s jarring whenever he’s silent. Not just lately but actually… the entire time you’ve dated him. He likes to talk. He loves to blabber and ramble and narrate. Whenever he’s radio silent on you it means you’ve pissed him off. It means you’re in the wrong… maybe it doesn’t. He’s locked you in a dressing room and now you want to apologize? He should say sorry this is psycho behavior!

“Baby?” Repeating it once more, the pet name coming from your lips like first nature despite your frustration growing with him.

Silence.

“Floch!” You can’t help but shout. It’s fucking stressful to be in a tiny stall that smells like feet holding an itchy sweater that costs way too much for its quality level. “This isn’t funny!” Despite your best efforts your voice grows shaky and it causes your volume to rise.

You recognize the song playing. Or perhaps you’re just tuned back in on the stereo outside the door. Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift.

Thump!

He fucking kicked the door of the dressing room. Instinctively you back away and your back hits the wall behind you. The music in the background is just white noise, insignificant and mildly irritating as you freak the fuck out, as you stare in shock at the door as if your hurt expression transfers through the wood.

She’s damn right. Here you are, your last month of summer break from college, being fucking trapped in a dressing room by the man you introduce as your lover. Perhaps that’ll be the next song playing while this nightmare persists.

“Let me out, Floch! You’re acting crazy!” At your words Floch bangs the door once more, making the frame jump with you and the wood splinter. “What’s making you do this?” You ask shakily as your anxieties, your fears, are heightened by the fact you can’t see him.

“Make me, little bitch.” Floch's voice rings out and you can hear his smug expression.

Before Floch can respond like a kind, polite, and lovely boyfriend would - or how a cruel, unkind, and crude boyfriend would - there’s another voice outside the door. The voice isn’t very deep but it isn’t high either. Perhaps it’s a tenor? The inflection of the speaker implies he has an accent from not around here. His voice sounds confrontational. Or maybe Floch’s bitterness is corrupting this stranger.

“What the fuck are you doing?” The new voice asks presumably Floch, his voice deepening when he swears. “We have a rule against fucking locking people in closets. Formed right now cause no one has done this weird shit before.” Continuing, the voice then comes closer. You’re beginning to place it. The bravado matches those jovial but obnoxiously loud laughs heard from the retail worker with the fuzzy buzz cut. “Step away from the door.” He warns, pitching his voice lower as if to sound scarier.

It’s also odd he locked you in a fucking dressing room. So you’re allowed to push your fists in the air in victory, like you’re the one who punched him, when you hear his loud footsteps while stumbling.

Until you hear his nose fucking break.

It sounds like a can of soda being popped open; maybe a firecracker blowing or those little pop-its that can burn you or - holy hell he punched Floch! You’re giddy. Giddy in the way you’d cheer when your favorite sports team wins against all odds. Odd how you’re celebrating an injury to the man you love.

The door is easily opened from a small twist of the wrist while holding the doorknob. Kitty Kat by Megan Thee Stallion is beginning to play after a lot of radio classics.

Know what’s also beautiful? Stepping over him. As you do so, Floch grabs your ankle. He mumbles something unkind that you can’t fully hear but you ignore him. Nothing beginning with ‘you treacherous-’ will be worth hearing from him.

Perhaps it’s fitting? The energy certainly is as you step out. Once you’re free, holding that ugly, inadequate sweater, you’re greeted with the retail worker standing over Floch while blood gushes down his face like a waterfall.

It’s a beautiful sight.

Now standing beside the retail worker, his friend watching from the register with an enthused grin, you can see the name on his tag. ‘Connie S.’

Connie? There’s a Connie in the band you love. He typically wears a hood so you’ve never seen his haircut - not even online. With angular black eyeliner and ash smeared across his scrawny but sculpted chest as he plays the drums with his entire being. He’s feral; fucking insane. The way he breaks his drumsticks every performance and they sell online for more money than splintered wood could ever be worth. His energy is absolutely contagious but you wouldn’t mind catching it. At least a little.

When he pulls back his outer layer you can confirm it’s Connie Springer. The Connie Springer who tears up stages across the United States, eliciting enthusiasm across all metalheads, embodying earnest appreciation for the poetic, powerful expression it is to bangs wood against… wood. You digress. His tattoo is a complete sleeve on his right arm, the hand he always wears a glove on when he’s playing at a concert from the clips you’ve seen. Full of black ink with pops of indigo and scarlet, the shades popping brilliantly against his sienna skin, his tattoo is the embodiment of his characteristic chaotic energy he carries with him during every performance. From afar it does look like random shapes and cool patterns paired together, but you’re sure there’s more to it. Tattoos are so permanent! He must of thought hard and long and deeply-

“You’re staring, hon.” Connie says with a boyish grin. It’s sweet and genuine unlike Floch’s. “You okay? The guy you’re with seems to have issues.” You nod as he speaks, dazed a little at the thought of him being Connie; the drummer for Paradis. “Did you need help finding something… or?” Sheepishly - yet slyly still - smirking, Connie sweetness and playfully and you see now, flirtatiousness, is not lost on you. “Did you need someone?” He teases, removing his uniform dress shirt that he had on outside of a tank top.

Holy shit.

“Oh you’re studying his tat.” The brunette at the cashier says from behind you resulting in a small flinch. “Didn’t mean to scare you!” She apologies with a genial chuckle. So genuine. “He only got that because his bandmates did and he wanted to prove Jean was weak for crying when he got his back tatted.”

Jean? Like Jean Kirstein from Paradis? Holy heck.

Giggling again, you realize how beautiful Sasha’s laugh is. It’s saccharine and mellifluous; it’s honey to a sore throat. “Oh, I’m Sasha by the way.” She finally says with an honest smile and a friendly pat to your shoulder.

Like a deer in headlights you stare at their interaction. Sasha, the one with a bit more sense - or perhaps just intuition - of the two, chiding Connie for being ditzy in only the way your closest friends can. She’s stylish. The effortless type of stylish. She’s in a large baggy maroon t-shirt with a camo print hoodie underneath with the black hoodie peaking up. Her brown hair is tied back with a black ribbon, a necklace loose around her neck on a thick leather strap but the gem is hidden under her shirt, and green cargo shorts that end at the knees. If anyone else was wearing something like that they’d look crazy. Sasha… makes it work. Her sunglasses have little sparkly stars on the rim; they’re rhinestones that catch the light beautifully. She’s serving cunt in camo… how does she do it? Crew socks with little pigs on them and black, hunter-green, and white sneakers complete her oddly pleasing attire.

“I’m Connie!” The boy exclaims proudly as if he didn’t hear a word.

Sasha chuckles. “Dude, where were you?” Her words prompt Connie to shrug, playful and at ease. It’s so metal he just punched a man unconscious and now he’s here jiving. Chatting as if this was any old day for him.

“The merch from our first ep,” Connie repeats once more as he realizes the weight of that. The merch they sold because they were given a discount from a buddy and dive bars were desperate for some live entertainment and haggled for 40% of their merch profits. Back when Mikasa was banging holes in the drums themselves with her own sort of stoic intensity instead of Connie splitting the branches he thumped against the percussion with his kinetic passion. You’ve been a fan since Paradis performed their first ever setlist composed of Dio covers, makeshift comedy routines from Connie when the dingy sound of the equally dank bars would give them trouble, and Jean competing with Eren because back they were fixated on only one of them writing the lyrics. The significance of the shirt you’re wearing makes him dramatically clutch his heart through his tank.

Connie on the other hand is a hot mess. Literally and figuratively. His hand runs over his buzz cut, sighing when he can’t yet run his hands through his hair seductively like everyone else in the band. No thirst edits of him including that clip… yet. His armpits aren’t shaved and whenever he lifts his toned arms you can see tufts of ashy brown hair. He has more body hair than hair on his head, maybe, if you combine his hairy legs too. Connie’s in sweatpants you realize, not exactly what you’d expect from a rock star or a retail worker on shift, and you can’t help but notice that imprint. Your eyes are torn from it, thankfully because your cheeks started to develop a cherry tint, due to Connie flexing his arm muscles when he snaps as a thought comes to him. The sound snagged your attention too… you guess.

“Your shirt man, it’s our first album!” Connie finally realizes, staring straight at your chest. You give him a pass since that’s where the bulk of the design is.

“Don’t make it weird.” Sasha jokes, elbowing Connie as he remains in his theatrics.

“No! This means everything!” The boy argues with a bashful grin on his face. He really does seem flattered. It’s cute… it’s making your lips curl into a delicate smile.

“I just… really liked the design.” You begin, fiddling with the hem of the black shirt. A lion stretches proudly, extending itself as it arches its back, in a field of gladiolus flowers awaking from a nap. They only printed these t-shirts in black. There’s a line from their song from that ep, Waking Lions, that’s written below the lion and in the gorgeous bed of sun kissed, passionately purple flowers. The line, in a gradient white and purple that’s beginning to fade off, says: I wanna stand up, a hundred feet tall ‘cause fear will never lead the way. I’m waking the lions in me.

Those two see right through you. Especially Sasha. She urges me to continue, to even ramble, with a shift in those chocolate irises. “Okay… I also really loved the songs. Especially Waking Lions! I’m so glad that’s the song you decided to model the ep’s art off of and also that you made merch!” You find yourself ramble, rattling on about what you really thought of the lyrics. How the art is so cute compared to what a metal-core band would be expected to produce. The way their first album, even if only housing three songs, was revolutionary in your eyes.

“Yeah, Jean wrote Waking Lions and he’s the one with the art degree. So Eren lost the battle on having When the Lights Come On be the star of our first ever original recording.” Connie rubs his hand over his fuzzy head, his pointy canines revealed as he smiles. “He won the war and got to be the lead vocalist though!” He adds with a chuckle like he recalled a memory. Probably how the two bickered endlessly about who that title goes to.

“Connie’s playing tonight at the Garrison if you want to come. Bet they didn’t sell out!” Sasha teases with an upbeat tone in contrast to Connie’s pretend pout. They’re a fun duo. Seeming to have energy that feeds off each other in a positive feedback loop. “You seem like a huge fan too. So,” Sasha stands besides Connie and the two glance between each other like they’re plotting, scheming. “Would you want to go with us? I’ve been looking for a new concert buddy, since Connie can’t head bang with me when he’s on stage!”

Laughing at Sasha’s comment, you nod your head almost immediately. You were going to attend with Floch, since giving you two tickets for the balcony - which is the worst spot since you’re into moshing and they’re typically more expensive - was his attempt of being nice, but he’s entirely shown his true colors. Or perhaps you finally removed your rose tinted glasses and took those pivotal steps out of your ivory tower.

“I’d love to go with you guys. My date is knocked the hell out, thanks Connie,” Sasha snorts a laugh and Connie throws up a peace sign, “so I doubt he’ll want to take me. Or even go himself.” Smiling with appreciation, you add quickly, “thank you guys so much for the invite.”

Connie slinks his arm around your shoulders while Sasha gives him and you a high-five at the same time. Nice, it’s crisp. “Yo! I can’t wait!” Connie exclaims with enthusiasm – the same enthusiasm that infects the crowd from insipid to invigorated in no time. “First, let’s get you a cool outfit for free. Cause once my boss sees I knocked his ass out I’m fired.”

“I’m getting a cool outfit too!” Sasha excitedly agrees, reassuring you naturally. “I’m always asking Constance to slip me a free dress but he never does.” Pouting when Connie yells for her to never call him that again, Sasha begins to peruse the racks of clothing surrounding you three. And I guess Floch but he’s literally down for the count.

Connie, with the cutest opportunistic grin, adds, “I’m already gonna get fired. May as well make this a concert worth remembering down to what you wore!”

Sasha begins shopping with Connie’s last paycheck as her credit card, and Connie has his arm around your shoulders in a friendly way. It’s as if you’ve known him for years. Like the three of you are best friends reunited, you find yourself agreeing with a nod of your head.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Hopefully some fun.

[acquariusgb]

Billary Fic drabble advent calendar: Day 21

Day 21: Game night

There was one thing that was fundamental in the Clinton household: gamenight!

Bill was a big fan of card games. He and Hillary had started playing against each other as soon as they started dating. Then he played cards with her family and it was a way for him to win them over. And once Chelsea was old enough, she was also introduced to game nights. On those nights the family would play Go Fish or the Game of Life or Candy lane, then as Chelsea learned to read and write, they moved to Scrabble or one of Bill’s favorite games, Upwords.

Playing games was their way to occupy the time if they couldn’t sleep or were waiting for news. It had been a safeguard when Bill, Hillary and Chelsea spent the night before Bill’s heart surgery playing cards. It had kept them distracted while they were worried about the outcome. 

One cold winter day it was Charlotte’s turn to be introduced to the family tradition. Bill, Hillary and Charlotte were wearing comfortable sweatshirts and pants. Bill had prepared a bowl of popcorn while Hillary was finishing making cocoa. 

Several board games and a deck of cards were piled up on the table. 

“Okay, sweetheart.” Hillary said while putting down two mugs of cocoa on the table and one of tea for Bill. “Are you ready? Did you decide which game to start with?”

“Hmmm…” Charlotte hummed and put a finger over her lips. “Go Fish?”

“Go Fish, it is!” Bill exclaimed, grabbing a handful of popcorn, before sitting down. 

Grandparents and granddaughter spent the next few hours going through most of the games, until Charlotte got tired and they moved to the sofa to watch a movie. Charlotte was curled against her Grandma as all three were under a cover. Soon the girl was fast asleep, slightly snoring.

“Tonight it was great. It reminded me of when Chelsea was little.”Bill ran a hand up and down her back and smiled at HIllary over her head.

Hillary smiled too.  “Yeah… and with Aidan growing up so fast and Chelsea pregnant again we’ll have a table full of players soon.”

Bill’s grin got even bigger. “Can’t wait for it.” He leaned over and pecked her lips.

[thytorturedpoet]

i went to see olivia in concert last night and it was the best night of my life,

she was so amazing i definitely feeling gayer then before she so pretty and hot wtf, my pictures don’t do her justice but like, WOMEN?!?! THOSE NOTE CHANGES?!?! on the floor breathless, i love her so much

and the whole thing was perfect, the vocals, the band, the stage effects, the dancers, and i mean i knew it was gonna be great but it somehow blew my expectations out of the water and i had really high expectations

i was a bit anxious at the start because the lines were so long even though i got there like almost 3 horus before it started and loud noises and big crowds stress me out but i managed to push through it and once we got to our sits i was able to calm down a lot so whoo!

(ignore my shit quality)

also she had an all female crew, like her back up singers were girls, key board player, guitarists, bassist and drummer were all women and i just found that really cool, most importantly i was FAWNING AND GASPING OVER ONE OF HER GUITARISTS LIKE HOLY SHIT SHE WAS SO HOT AND THE FACT SHE PLAYS GUITAR IS JUST THE CHERRY ON TOP, IM SO GAY

her names daisy and i’m in love

and before anyone comes at me for being creepy for knowing her name, i’m really not cause olivia literally introduced everyone on stage and also, just her, played guitar for liv on two songs so i heard her name lots

i have so many more photos and i couldn’t help myself and ended up filming every song but alas, the tumblr limit prevents me from showing more things, boooo but a small recap, i genuinely think that helped my mental health a bit because it was just a very relieving experience, i’m not quite sure how to explain it

ooooo i also got a a sweatshirt, a tshirt and a guts world tour beanie and y’all don’t onesie this but i loveeee beanies and i love the stuff i got so much im going to go broke so fast i have terrible money management but at least this money was just given to me by my grandma

[ventismacchiato]

you asked and i give !!

(also included oikawa sweatshirt! there is sorta lore behind this! my bestie and i had matching ones, i had oikawas, and he had iwas!! we are sadly no longer in contact, but i am too attached to this sweatshirt !)

anyways love you kaikai!

(Also, family reunion is going somewhat great! went to my grandmas 90th birthday and LEARNED SO MUCH FUCKED UP FAMILY LORE FROM MY COUSINS! PLEEK!)

🩰

GIVE ME THE FIGURE RIGHT NOW 🤬🤬 OR TELL ME WHERE ITS FROM

the jacket is so 2020 core but i love it ur eating kinda sad the matching pair doesn’t exist tho 😔 i’ll get an iwa one for u

(OMG 90 WOW HAPPY BDAY TO HER AND HELP that’s so real i love family drama) and ily2 ❤️

[polyamorouspunk]

Little bit of a different post:

So, I've gotten an ask while my anon is off, and they asked to remain anonymous, so I'm going to answer here and then send it to them, but I think it's a good post to make, and I would love to hear any input anyone else like @safety-pin-punk has.

Hey so like, I never got to look the way I wanted when I was younger in terms of fashion, and in the past few years that's been changing and I'm coming into my own but something I've noticed is that it's really hard finding alternative fashion for larger men. I'm ~250 lbs and 5'6", and it's pretty discouraging that the only punk fashion I tend to see of guys my body shape is the bear community which I totally love but don't myself identify with. I've never been good at sewing and leather working skills, I'm much better at cooking, carpentry, and computers, so I was wondering if you or your many followers had any resources for guys like me? Etsy shops or something. I don't know, I feel like I can't be the only big guy who wants to look punk in addition to being punk.

There definitely is a skinny white majority you see in the punk scene along with honestly, I feel, like any other scene.

The bear community is great! But it's also just that- a community. And with any community that means that a lot of people are looking/dressing/acting very similar, so if you don't really relate to that then you don't relate to it.

But, a big part of the punk movement is also thrifting! There's this post I remember seeing on here that was criticizing a TikTok of someone being like "I bought these ugly giant pants at a thrift store and tailored them to look cute!" and they took like 3XL jeans to fit them (skinny). But that's what you can do! Go to a thrift store, get a pair of jeans that fits you, and start just making patches for them or whatever. Throw on some safety pins. Etc. My battle jacket is actually a 3XL biker jacket I got from the thrift store. I took some of the patches off and I painted over them to make my own. It was actually really easy to find that biker jacket, I'm really lucky, but I mean even just sweatshirts and sweatpants can be altered easily! That's what the whole punk movement is about! I have a shirt I found that was exactly what I was looking for at the thrift store my grandma works at to make a cryptid patch shirt for.

Etsy shops are great for getting the additions you need, like spikes or if you want someone else's patches, or if you want some button pins that aren't from Hot Topic, etc. Etsy is great for when you want to support independent, often minority creators with accessories for your own clothes, but thrifting is a great way to get plus-sized cheap clothing.

I feel like I myself even don't fit into "punk" the way I really want to. Not so much from my size but just how I really don't feel like I even come close to passing as a guy. I'm also very isolated (rural North Carolina) but I work in the city, but like even in my store I definitely don't fit in. I don't know anyone else punk geographically close to me except one trans guy in my art class who ended up dropping out. And he like. Passed way better than me and was way hotter than me. Does that matter? Literally no but I understand not feeling like you fit in both with "normal" people and with other "punk" people because I just don't feel... attractive enough? Like trust me I KNOW how stupid that sounds but especially in a gender sense when I look at punk guys I'm like damn I wish I looked like a dude but oh well.

Anyway I hope some of this was helpful and I'm sure Key will have something a lot more insightful to add. And I'll be sending you this post as well.

[anotherobeymeblog]

Obey Me cast relationship with MC songs (2023 edition)

Found this post when scrolling through my old posts from 2020 and decided it would be fun to give it another crack now that 1) we have a LOT more canon material to go off and B) my taste in music has expanded past just grandma songs (not that I don't still enjoy grandma songs ofc) Also adding Diavolo, Barbatos, and Solomon since I have a better grasp on their personalities now. (Well, only barely with Barbatos, but we'll get to that lol)

Warnings: mild spoilers for lesson 16 of the original game in Belphie's, some of these songs use gendered language when talking about the significant other (implied female: Mammon; implied male: Levi, Asmo) *this doesn't mean MC must be that gender in those scenarios*

Lucifer: Honey Moon by Birds in the Airport. Okay, starting off on a somewhat angsty note lol. But look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong. "...tear open every exit from the maze inside my mind" like come ON that's literally what MC does with Lucifer. Whether he'd verbalize any of this is another question entirely, but also isn't the point here.

Mammon: Fair by The Amazing Devil. I hemmed and hawed over this for a while, tbh. Wasn't sure if it was a lil too soft for his outwardly prickly ass, but I eventually settled on "this is him but he sure as hell isn't admitting it any time soon". The trouble with tsundere characters ig. But anyway he's a dork and the trying to make his partner laugh when they're mad at him felt very on-brand.

Leviathan: A Shitty Gay Song About You by Ezra Williams. I've associated Levi with this song for quite a while now. It has it all. Goldfish, self-deprication, pining, it's great. Oh, for Levi to lend me his sweatshirt tbh.

Satan: Cat Serenade by Beetlebug. Absolutely adorable song. It has cat metaphors, it has pining, it has the whole "I used to never open up to anyone but here we are", it's just super Satan in a lot of ways.

Asmodeus: Freckles by Kevin Atwater. I mean it's just adorable, first of all. But second of all, the theme of actually falling in love with someone for real when you're used to more casual relationships is pretty fundamental to Asmo's relationship with MC.

Beelzebub: Strawberry Mentos by Leanna Firestone. Idk maybe this is a bit too straightforward but even outside of any food references, it's such a sappy, sacchirine love song that it really does feel Right for Beel, big babey that he is.

Belphegor: Grace, Anatomy by Homemade Haircuts. Okay, while this isn't really addressed in-game, if he ends up in a relationship with MC, the shit that happened in the attic is gonna be weighing pretty heavy on his mind for a long time. Between that and his general abandonment issues, this song is an excellent reflection of his feelings about MC (at least early on in the relationship), even if most of it is stuff he would never actually say out loud.

Simeon: Chai Tea by audrey. Yeah, yeah, I know the title sounds more Barbatos, but the song itself is just so cozy and easygoing. (Of all the possible words to describe Barbatos, I think "easygoing" is about the last thing that would come to mind). All the other love interests are a bit more... uh... intense. Whereas this song is literally just being incredibly sappy and drawing a quiet comfort from the other person's presence even without talking about anything in particular.

Diavolo: Touch Starved by BB Bean. This doesn't require much elaboration, I don't think. The title says it all. Like honestly. "I'm just tired of the bubble, I just wanna hand to hold" is deadass how he acts in every surprise guest (at least in the og game, less so in nightbringer lol). Just wants to feel normal smh

Barbatos: A Wistful Waltz by Teddy Hyde. Okay, I need to apologize to Barbatos stans bc I struggle so much to figure this guy out (which I suspect is the point, but it makes it damn hard to come up with headcanons for him). But based on my tenuous grasp on his personality and... odd dynamic with MC, I think this should fit the bill. It's subdued but with that underlying intensity that I always seem to pick up on with him.

Solomon: Painting Roses by Dresses. I actually don't have much explanation for this, but Solomon in Nightbringer especially is just. He's such a fuckin disaster, man. (I actually was torn between giving this song to Solomon or Satan, but I ended up going with Sol in the end)

[jitters-art]

Jobie 🍧, 🌱, 📸 !!!

oc emoji asks

[ ID: a full body sketch of an OC jobie smiling and giving a peace sign with her eyes closed. jobie is an inuk woman with brown skin, freckles and a unibrow. she’s missing her right ring finger. she’s wearing beaded earrings resembling arctic salmon, a blue sweatshirt with arctic char on it, a white shirt underneath and blue jean shorts. she has on white socks and white, red and green sneakers and her nails are painted blue. END ID. ]

🍧 do they still have any items from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it? jobie definitely still has a good amount of childhood items! her family is definitely not the kind to part with something unless it’s broken and irreparable or unless they can give it to someone else :p i think her favourite childhood item though would be this raggedy stuffed caribou that her great-grandma made for her before she passed :’3 it’s definitely falling apart and fucked up looking but she loves the thing more than anything T.T she re-stitches and re-stuffs it when it needs to be, and she plans to give it to her eldest child when she has oneee. if she ever lost that guy she would tear her whole house apart looking for ittt— it would be a nightmare. if she still couldn’t find it she would absolutely be crying over it and she’d just feel horrible. i think she’d start accusing her family and the other family she lives with of stealing it T.T she’d be SO distraught. i think her grandma (who lives with them) would make her a new one, maybe with the help of her mom as well. it wouldn’t be the same but she would still cherish it.

🌱 what is their most vivid memory from childhood? DEFINITELY hunting with her late father! i think the most vivid would likely be her first caribou she got all on her own :3 she shared it with as many neighbours as she could as well her household. she was really prideful do be able to help give to her community so that memory means a lot to her. her dad made sure she knew how proud he was of her, so she really cherishes that day :)

📸 do they enjoy getting their picture taken? what’s their go-to pose? do they like taking photos? what do they take photos of? jobie LOVES having her picture taken! she’s always very happy to be able to save a moment in time, specially if it’s about an achievement, special day, or something with friends and family :3c her go-to pose is definitely a big smile with a peace sign T.T she’s so cutee. she would love to take pictures more but as much as she loves them she forgets to take her own pictures most of the time! she tends to be too sucked into the moment to think about it, so it’s normally other people taking the pictures! when she does think of taking pictures though it’s normally just silly selfies with her friends and family— she definitely takes the most with her best friend elio and her grandma. but she also has a bunch with her mom, her girlfriend charlie and her other best friend barry. elio just really likes pictures so she takes a lot with him, and she loves her grandma so much she takes as many as her grandma will let her T.T

[purplesimmer455]

Emily ran into her friend/classmate/crush Kiran outside. Kiran was wearing a blue and purple sari and had their hair down.

Emily: (blinking) Kiran hey, what are you doing here? And is that a sari?

Kiran: Yup. And I’m here for my cousin Aditi’s wedding. They’re having the reception at her house.

Emily: Oh okay, you look nice. It’s a good difference from your jeans and a sweatshirt or t shirt. Not that you don’t look nice in that too because you do. (Emily blushes).

Kiran: (smiling) Thanks, it’s my mom’s sari and it looked so pretty and matches with my hair a bit, so I asked her if I could wear it. (Grinning) I also wore her makeup and my contacts just to feel extra fancy for the event.

Emily felt shy seeing Kiran look so pretty, but asked them if they wanted to come over to the house. “My great-grandma won’t mind.” She added. “Sure.” Kiran said. “Let me just go to Aditi’s house, it’s like two houses over from here, and change and I’ll be right back.” Emily nodded. Kiran came back fifteen minutes later wearing jeans and a Flaming Llamas jersey and their glasses back on and their hair in a half bun. Kiran looks nice like this too Emily thought automatically, and then tried to shush her brain from any more comments.

Emily sat with Kiran in the backyard. “I like your mehndi too.” She said, smiling. “Thanks.” Kiran said. “My auntie did it for me and my brother. Did you ever get it done?” Emily grinned. “One time, for my mom's friend Iman's shaadi. My older siblings took me and my cousins to their mehndi artist and I felt so fancy.” Kiran smiled. “I bet you looked so pretty, Em. Also, Safiya and Amir right? I think you told me that their amma used to be married to your mom.” Emily nodded, trying not to blush too much at Kiran's compliment. “Yeah, they had Saf and Amir and then mom had me with my mama Tess, and their amma Amira has Anjali and Mariela with her husband.” Kiran’s eyes widened. “Mariela told me you were like a sister to her, but I didn’t think she meant a half sister once removed or is it step half-” They cut themselves off, furrowing their brows and Emily smiled. “I know, it’s confusing as heck for me too, I just consider them as like my half-ish sisters.” She said. “Plus, Anjali’s like a fun older sister who let's me in on her pranks, and Mariela and I have been friends since my mom used to take me to their house to see Saf and Amir, she’s like having a twin sister and she’s sweet and funny. Plus, Amira and Emilio are nice, they’re always asking me about school and soccer and my moms and how I'm doing.” She rambled. Kiran smiled. "That's so nice, Em." They said.

Emily and Kiran continued talking, and Emily told them about Piper and Cam too. "I love Pie, but she and Cam are so cheesy together." Emily said, smiling. "But Cam's cool, you'd like her. She likes that band I told you about, the Chained Llamas, and she has short choppy hair and she's so cute and she has this way of focusing just on you when you talk and her eyes are this pretty warm brown." Emily admitted in a rush. "I mean I know she doesn't like me like that and sees me as a baby cousin, and she's way older, like 17 but my brain is putting me in crush mode." She added. Kiran nodded, although Emily thought she saw their eyes darken a bit. So, Kiran is crushing on Emily too, but their parents are also like you can't date til you're 14 and we meet the sim. It did make Kiran a little jealous to hear about Emily's crush on another sim.

Random mildly embarrassing backstory: Just like Emily, when I was 12 I was crushing on a 16/17 year old girl in my school (we were 6th grade to 12th grade). I remember she would make a playful remark about me being a bookworm when she'd see me in the main office reading a book and in my 12 year old brain I was like “😱😍 OMG, it's like our thing!” and that she noticed me and now I feel sheepish because duh she didn't like me that way but at that age you're all like in crush mode and just happy that your crush acknowledged you in some way. 😅 I based Emily's crush on Cam from that memory.

[fuckmygaychunguslife]

11.5.24 diary

it's 1:31 tuesday morning

should probably do these either before i go to bed but wtv!

school is almost over, this quarter at least. i study film and honestly this quarter has been the most unfulfilling. i have no classes related to my major, but am taking required core classes. sadly, i feel like i am struggling a lot with getting work done and trying to stay motivated to do school.

i am hoping that with this blog i can motivate myself to get tf up and do what i need to do. it works better when you write it out yourself. i don't have the time or option to sit and not do what i need to do, since i have been doing that for a few weeks now.

it's a lot of stress this quarter, not only with schoolwork but with a lot of personal struggles going on. i am having to take care of my great grandma more since i live with her and my grandma for school, and she isn't doing the best after being diagnosed with ovarian cancer. i

i am also finding myself still, a journey i have been on for years but more so after college started last year. i want to know what type of person i want to be but it seems so difficult to figure out. i want to have a place to fit in as i don't feel that way in any social circle.

shorter vent today, but i think that is enough writing for tonight. perhaps i will write more tonight before it is 1 in the morning lol.

it's 1:47 tuesday morning, goodnight!

---

juli's media

i listened to this while writing tonight

crashed to this song while playing american truck simulator

started soul eater for the second time today as i dropped it and never picked it back up

[fenwaybelle]

The Ghost of Grandmothers’ Future by Fenway Belle

I was curled up under my covers when Ben and I met. The matted fleece of my blanket

stuck to the frays of fabric from my sweatshirt and made static noises whenever I shifted. It had been a while since I had washed the blankets or the sweatshirt and the smell all blended together in a dull and sweaty aroma. The three day old braid in my hair, I could only imagine, was in a similar state.

Tinder was murder on the eyes, so many pixels strung together to create photos of shirtless guy after shirtless guy who offered nothing about himself but his first name and the brand of his boxers sticking out of his jeans. Every profile that passed: like, like, like. ​Keep an open mind​, I told myself, ​maybe he has a great personality. ​Both my therapists said it was good that I kept an open mind. My first therapist focused on my confidence and the second one was for everything else. My screen told me I used all my likes for the day so I closed out of that app and switched to another. Like, like, like. The sound of my finger tapping against the screen sounded like the way my Grandma Ellie would click her tongue ​tick tock ​when I told her that I didn’t have a boyfriend.

I liked this app better, it made all of its members answer prompts about themselves, even the two word monosyllabic responses were better than the nothing. Ben’s face flitted across my screen and I quickly perused his profile; he likes tacos and hiking and works as a paralegal. Ben. I wondered what kind of name that was. ​A nice Jewish boy ​is what my Grandma Nancy would always tell me and my sister. Although we stopped taking her words so much to heart when she told my sister that she couldn’t be buried in a Jewish cemetery after she got an infinity sign tattoo the size of a tic tac on the inside of her wrist.

His red hair looked coarse through the screen and sat in a neat line at the top of his forehead like a little curtain. I liked the red. I liked the way his nose was a little big and a little crooked like mine. His eyes were low and heavy lidded, barely showing the deep black pools of his irises. I looked into the collection of lights on my screen that turned the glass of my phone into those deep dark eyes and wondered if I would ever be looked at by those eyes. Ben. Ben and Beatrice. Beatrice and Ben. It just flowed. I wondered how it would look in cursive on eggshell cardstock paper, “Save the date for Benjamin and Beatrice.” Grandma Ellie would get it and say

“oh my we never thought it would happen for her.” Grandma Nancy would ask “Am I going to live to see great grandkids or are you going to keep me waiting.”

Like. His profile disappeared and all I could do was wait. Other profiles came across my screen; Like, like, like. I hoped for a response from any of them, but my mind wandered back and back to the boy with the red hair and the dark eyes. I closed the app and thought of his narrow jawline and the flurries of copper that dusted his cheeks and thickened into a rusted forest around his lips and chin.

Grandma Nancy’s voice rung in my head, “You’re twenty years old how do you not have a boyfriend yet?” Every family holiday was the Bene, both sets of grandpas would park themselves on the couch and not talk to each other while the grandmas descended on us like vultures with Long Island accents. They were relentless; I’m single, my sister has a tattoo, they’re going to die never seeing another child born to the family, how could my parents have gone so wrong? Every man I passed in life was a missed opportunity to fulfill my biological and familial destiny. Ben wasn’t just Ben he had to be my future husband, Ben. The future father to my future children and the man who would have to hug Grandma Nancy and Grandma Ellie and tell them that it would be alright, he would give them their great grand children. Heat bubbled inside my chest and I chewed on my cuticles until I tasted blood.

I thought of his photo, awkward and boyish. I didn’t want to marry him, I didn’t want to think about kids with him, I only wished he would press his cheek to mine and–​Ping​. My phone lit up with one notification from the app.

“Hey Beatrice! Did you know that I can’t taste the color red but I can play the trombone?”

The space inside my head seemed to burst into flames as my stomach shook and fought against my abdomen like a caged bird. My fingers shook as I messaged back, “Hey Ben! Did you know that I had a wrap for lunch and I can play hot cross buns on the recorder?”

Conversation tumbled out of us for a week. “Do you like ​New Girl​?” “Are you kidding? I love it?” “I just got a bagel for breakfast.” “Brooo I love bagels.” A blushing emoji here and an upside down smile there. The glow of my phone lighting up with notifications was my pulsing starlight leading me through the dark.

Every day, all day, for 6 days, it was all Ben. For each of those days I got out of bed and wore the cutest outfit I could come up with out of the pile of clothes on my floor that didn’t look too dirty, then I put mascara on my eyes and blush on my cheeks so that I would be prepared in case Ben and I started sending selfies to each other. It was undisturbed rapture until he sent the kissing emoji.

On that damn 7th day I was in my room thinking about what show I would recommend to Ben when he sent that horrible emoji with the message “Hey Gorgeous.” A sheet of ice started to form in my chest. I knew that this meant that more was coming. It was a reminder that this thing we were doing was not just for the fun of chatting but to get from point A to point B. Soon it wouldn’t just be bagels and sitcom television, it would be flirting, and soon after that, dick pics, and soon after that dick in real life, then three kids and soccer practice and anniversary dinners and Grandma Nancy’s long red nails pinching my cheeks letting me know how well I did. I wasn’t ready, it was all too much and suddenly all the air in the room decided to disappear.

Strained noises escaped my throat in staccatoed squawks until my roommate, Amia burst into the room. “Beatrice!”

She rubbed my back and sat with me on the floor of my room. I sobbed and strained against the vacuum seal in my lungs until I was able to muster, “I...don’t...wanna...see a...penis!”

Amia looked at me bewildered, “Who’s trying to show you a penis?”

I focused on Amia’s soft stroke along my shoulders and gulped down oxygen. “Ben’s...penis...he’s gonna send pictures.”

“Alright who is Ben and why is he trying to send you dick pics?”

“We met on a dating app last week and I really like him but then he sent a kissing face emoji and now everything is falling apart.”

“He sent an emoji? I don’t understand where the dick pic factors into all this.”

“​He sent the kissing emoji.​”

Amia stood up. “Bea,” She struggled to find the words and instead of searching she left

whatever phrase she sought in the dark and instead said, “Okay walk me through this.”

As I explained to her my romance with Ben she nodded her head and furrowed her brow in a way that said she didn’t understand my plight even a little. She looked at his photo and said

that Ben looked “cute, but grandpa cute.” I reached the emoji and Amia looked at me with a smirk and said, “It’s okay to be nervous when you like a boy.”

“I just–” the thought got caught in my throat. I had never thought that it was Ben that made me nervous; it was all the invisible strings that stretched from him and looped their way around my neck and pulled.

“It’s normal to get ahead of yourself. You’ve never done this before so it would be weirder if you ​weren’t g​ etting ahead of yourself.”

The space in my lungs slowly started to expand as the air in the room returned, maybe she was right. Maybe I was just nervous because I liked him. It was a comfortable and easy thought. “So he’s not gonna send a dick pic?”

“It would be a very big leap.”

Sitting there panting on the floor while my roommate assured me that no penises, virtual or otherwise, were coming my way felt like a low point. I stared at my nails, too damn short. I only knew these things: Ben was a boy. I liked talking to him. He liked talking to me. He sent me an emoji. Grandma Ellie’s ​tick tock​ echoed in my head.

“I’m just a bit overwhelmed, is all.”

“Just take it slow. If he’s into you then he’ll be fine with taking it slow, too.” Amia wrapped her arm around my shoulder. “With anything in dating, if you don’t see it coming then it shouldn’t be coming. So if he starts with anything you don’t like just tell him to fuck off.”

“Yeah.”

I stopped putting on mascara for our selfie exchanges, but besides that the next few days were business as usual. Ben didn’t send another kissing emoji. He asked me what my favorite deli food was and if I had ever seen ​Game of Thrones.​ Corned beef sandwich and no. We sent silly goodnight messages that always ended in us competing to find the worst thing in the room to use as a weapon in the zombie apocalypse. It was easy to talk about nothing and keep him far away. He sent a selfie from his bed and his lean collarbone was exposed. I imagined what it would be like to lay my head on that chest and think about nothing. ​But is he a nice Jewish boy? Does he come from a good family? He has to be looking to settle down? Tick tock.

Finally Ben asked me out to dinner. I sent back to him an unremarkable “Let’s do it,” while my brain boiled and steam shot out of my ears whistling like a kettle. I had three days before we would meet up for “casual ramen.” He messaged me telling me that he couldn’t wait to meet me and hang out with me. The more he pushed the more I pulled back with every flirtation yielding nothing more from me than “you’re so sweet” and “oh wow.”

It was the day before the date when he sent me, “I can’t wait to hold your hand tomorrow.” My stomach twisted so tight that it sent me running to the bathroom. Sweat drenched my underarms and legs so much that my pants fought against my flesh when I tried to pull them down. I dropped my body hard onto the toilet while pain racked my abdomen. My knees clashed against each other and Amia’s voice in my head hummed, “It’s all okay. Nerves are normal. Just turn those nerves into excitement.”

I took deep breaths and listened to the silence of the bathroom hoping to hear Ben’s voice. “I love cooking, too! One day we should cook something together.” I tried to think of all the things he said to me that meant nothing other than “we both like this thing.” I wondered if every show or movie he recommended was dripping with subtext ​we’ll watch this together and cuddle and I’ll put my hand on your leg and–​ –as I felt the blood rush away from my head I looked over to the shower and saw my Grandma Nancy and my Grandma Ellie sitting together in the bathtub.

“At this pace this boy is never going to want to date her. How does she expect to get a ring on her finger like this?” Grandma Ellie said.

“The pace? Forget the pace, look at those short nubby nails! No boy is going to want to put a ring on ​that​ kind of a finger.” Grandma Nancy retorted.

“No we must worry about how slow she’s going. She’s already 20 years old she’s only got a few years left to settle down so she can have some kids while her eggs are still good.” Grandma Ellie said clicking her tongue ​tick tock​.

“Oy gevalt! With her sister off in the city tramping around covered in tattoos and this one hiding away like a churchmouse every time a boy looks her way I’m never going to see her married, let alone with kids!” Grandma Nancy shouted.

“I’ll be dead in ten years and I’ll thank all my stars if I see Beatrice with a nice boy before I go.” Grandma Ellie clicked her tongue again.

“I’ll be gone in five!” Grandma Nancy shouted.

“My Lauren should have never married your David. I told her that it may make her happy now but the kids would be hopeless.” Grandma Ellie moaned.

“My David was the best thing that ever happened to your dope of a daughter, it’s her fault that the girls aren’t ready for marriage. She didn’t prepare them,” Grandma Nancy snarled.

“Leave me alone,” I whimpered.

The room started to get fuzzy around the edges and my grandmothers turned hazy as smoke poured out of the faucets. Grandma Ellie finally looked over at me swaying and clutching the toilet, “Beatrice, dear, the best piece of advice I ever heard was from my father. When I was young he told me ‘shit or get off the pot!’” My grandmothers both burst into shrill laughter. My ears rang and their mocking laughs turned into loud shrieks.

I woke up on the floor with my bare ass out while Amia pounded on the door. “Beatrice what are you doing in there?” The cold tile of the floor sapped away the heat in my face. I propped myself up and looked at the empty bathtub.

“Sorry I’ll be out in a minute.” My voice shook.

“You okay?” Amia knocked on the door again, this time softly.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” I stood up and made my way to the door. When I opened it

Amia was right there waiting for me. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Mhm. I’ve been eating like shit so my stomach was off is all.” I sat down on our old couch. Amia disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water that she placed in my hands.

“Your date is tomorrow, right? Are you feeling up to it?”

“Yeah.” It came out meeker than I meant it to. I tried to cover it with, “Butterflies are normal so I’m just looking forward to meeting him and just getting more comfortable with him and everything.”

Amia looked at me, or maybe through me. Her gaze was unconvinced and sharp and I could feel her silent judgement poke holes through my skin. She cocked her head and said, “You like him, right?”

I stopped for a moment and thought about the question. I liked talking about TV shows and food and making jokes. I liked his crooked nose and his ginger hair that sat just a little too flatly on his head. “Yes.” I meant it.

“Alright.”

Ping.​ “Should I bring you some authentic city bagels tomorrow?”

I waited for him outside of the ramen place; He picked it because he insisted they had the ‘dopest’ noodles. The street wasn’t particularly busy but every passerby and set of clacking heels going down the street felt like a flood of people were englufing me. My eyes darted across the sea of gray looking for the speck of red that I was waiting for. ​Tick tock​.

“Look what you’ve done. You’ve scared him away.” Grandma Ellie’s voice nagged. “He’s coming,” I told her.

“You jerk him around. You say you like him then you run now he thinks you’re just

another run of the mill ​nudnik​,” Grandma Nancy berated. “No, I know he likes me.”

My chest started to feel shallow. Concrete filled the cavern of my chest and left no room for anything else. I chewed on the short nub of my nail and tried to focus on the sensation of the soft clicks of my teeth going through the cuticle.

“He’s not going to hold that hand with ​those​ nails, Beatrice,” Grandma Ellie said.

Maybe he’s in the restaurant,​ I thought to myself, ​maybe I just missed him and he went in looking for me. ​I stepped through a black curtain into the low lit restaurant. The metallic clangs of spatulas against pans and muffled j-pop made my ears feel like they were full of molasses. I searched the room looking across the shiny tables for the red hair I saw in the pictures. The hostess smiled at me and asked if I wanted a table. “I’m just... I’m just.” I cocked my head as if doing so could reveal more hidden corners to the room. A couple with gray hair sat one one table, a few middle school aged girls at another, a family with two kids at another. No Ben. “I’m just...” I turned and went back outside. Lava roared under my skin and burned my cheeks.

I sat on the curb and put my head in my lap. I could hear my Grandma Ellie’s tsk tsk. “He could have been the one but you had to go ahead and––”

“Beatrice?” I looked up and saw Ben, a bit taller and a bit skinnier and hair a bit browner than I expected, holding a paper bag with grease stains. I expected him to look at me, pathetic and small sitting on the ground, and to turn and walk away. He had every reason to. But he just looked at me then smiled. “I brought bagels!”

Looking at him, tangible, real, flesh and blood in front of me; not a husband just a doof who showed up to a date with a dozen bagels. I smiled back, “Authentic city bagels?”

[missanissa71]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Y2K Green Christmas Sweater Medium Cardinal Blue Bird Holly Sweatshirt Jerzees.