#i’m tagging all the st women baby

[thestobingirlie]

society when stranger things fans realise women will never be a perfect victim, and everyone finally stops reducing female characters down to innocent baby, flawless mother, or demon bitch.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Napoleonville [Chapter 1: The Fall-Down House]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, alligators, kids, parenthood, smoking, cupcakes!

Word Count: 7.2k (she's very chonky for a first chapter).

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Since this is the first chapter of a new series, I'm going to tag a bunch of usual readers, but I won't tag you again unless you want me to. 💜

@persephonerinyes @tinykryptonitewerewolf @daenysx @babyblue711 @arcielee @bhanclegane @jvpit3rs @padfooteyes @marvelescvpe @travelingmypassion @darkenchantress @yeahright0h @poohxlove @trifoliumviridi @bloodyflowerrr @fan-goddess @devynsficrecs @flowerpotmage @thelittleswanao3 @seabasscevans @hiraethrhapsody @libroparaiso @st-eve-barnes @chattylurker @vagharnaur @moonlightfoxx @heliosscribbles @beautifulsweetschaos @namelesslosers @partnerincrime0 @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @marbles-posts @maidmerrymint @backyardfolklore @dd122004dd @jetblack4real @joliettes @mariahossain @minttea07 @please-buckme @florent1s @tempt-ress @wintersire @w3ird11 @eltherevir @florent1s @maii777

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! 🥰🧁

“What do you want to do to me?” you whisper through the phone, stretched out across your bed like a cat as George Michael’s Faith plays from the baby pink Panasonic boombox out in the kitchen. It’s late afternoon, and fading daylight falls in tiger stripes through the window blinds. The May air is hot, muggy, golden; cicadas hum in the southern live oaks, an ancient earthen music like rattling bones.

A few seconds pass before he can reply. It was a bold way to begin. You are admittedly a little impressed with yourself; an idea like this has been pacing around in your skull like a beast behind bars for years, but you’ve only now set it loose. “That’s difficult to explain in words,” he says; and in the low, teasing purr of his voice you can hear that your gamble paid off like striking oil. He has a British accent, which you never would have expected. You only recognize it from clips you’ve seen of Prince Charles and Princess Diana on 60 Minutes. “But I’d enjoy showing you.”

It’s laid open beside you on the bed, his personal ad in the Bayou Journal: Educated white male in his mid-20s. Single and not looking to change that. Seeking an open-minded, adventurous, and spirited lady for short-term D/s arrangement. Be prepared to answer the following riddle: I’m small but loom large, I’m Italian but French, I give away much to gain little. Who am I? Best regards, An Indecent Gentleman. “I’m waiting.”

“You understand what is meant by D/s?”

“Of course,” you say, your best feigned flippantness. You only know because Amir told you; he’s been daring you to call for three days.

“Thank God,” the man on the other end of the line sighs. There is an inhale like a drag on a cigarette. You imagine what he might look like: broad or slight, dark-haired or blonde, striking or average or homely, treacherous or safe, forbidden fruit or just plain forbidden. “I’ve had four different women ring me thinking I’m going to be their boyfriend, dinner and flowers and everything. They’re functionally illiterate down here.”

How unfortunate, you think. He’s highfalutin. But alas, no one is perfect. That’s no prohibitive obstacle. He doesn’t need to be faultless; it’s not as if you’re planning to marry the guy. “I like when someone else is in control.”

“Why?” This is a test, you can feel it. You can sense his rapt attention across the wire, through the electricity and the lush treetops and the rust-amber sky.

“I have a lot of…responsibilities in my real life,” you explain. “A lot of pressure. I make the decisions, I look out for other people. Sometimes I want to be the one who’s told what to do.”

“I can make that happen. And the riddle?”

“It’s Napoleon.”

The grin is sharp and triumphant in his voice. “Good girl.”

“He was short but an emperor. He was born in Corsica to an Italian family, but he ended up ruling over France. He sold off a bunch of French colonies to focus on conquering Europe and still couldn’t quite manage it. But the U.S.A. got this charming little corner of the world as part of the bargain.”

“You’re a historian,” the man says, sounding pleased.

“No sir, we all had to learn about him in school whether we wanted to or not.”

“Sir,” he echoes, tasting it, savoring it. You imagine a pink tongue flicking out to skate across his lips. Then he is abruptly cool, impersonal, businesslike. “Listen, I’ve got a scar down the left side of my face. It’s thin, it’s clean, but it’s noticeable. The eye is glass, although you can’t really tell unless you look closely. Is that a problem?”

A scar? Is he a veteran? A lion tamer? A motorcycle enthusiast? You try to remember what kinds of hobbies British people have. Isn’t there some kind of sport where men swing sticks around while riding horses? That sounds like it could put an eye out. Perhaps to your own surprise, you find that you are more intrigued than uneasy. Oh, you realize, dull like dawn through mist. I like him. I want him. Not just THIS, but HIM. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Brilliant. I don’t want to talk about it again.”

“That’s fine.” You hesitate. “There’s actually something I should tell you too.”

“Hm?”

The hum of his voice is arrogant, hungry. You try not to get distracted. Blood rushes hot and ashamed into your cheeks. “Um, well, uh, sometimes it’s difficult for me to…you know. Finish. Not when I’m alone, just when I’m with a guy. Especially if I’m anxious. And I don’t want to feel worried about faking it or making sure it happens or dealing with you getting offended or upset or whatever. Because it’s fine, really. It doesn’t mean I’m not having a good time. I’m just…stuck in my own head.”

There is a sound you can’t quite match to an expression, an exhale, a scoff. “Obviously I wouldn’t be mad at you. But you’ll come. I know you will. I’ll make you.”

And you’re flooded with a relief that you never dared to hope for. A confession spills out in a trembling whisper: “Please.”

“When?” he says, eager, urgent.

“I think if we don’t do it now, I’ll lose my nerve.”

There is a razor-thin pause, and then he asks for your address.

~~~~~~~~~~

You haven’t had a man in your bed in years; you are abruptly and unkindly reminded of this when you paw through the top drawer of your bedroom dresser and find only practical, deadly unsexy cotton Kmart underwear. You dash to the closet, yank open the squeaking door, and—tucked away in a cardboard box of winter clothes like sweaters and jeans, forgotten, needless—unearth a sprinkling of insubstantial silk and lace, all in luxurious gemstone hues: amethyst, ruby, sapphire, onyx, emerald.

“Oh, hallelujah.” You throw off your sunshine yellow shorts and tug on what were once upon a time your favorite panties. They don’t fit nearly as well as they used to; they fit horribly, in fact. They evaporate the thrill and leave nauseous trepidation in its place. “Oh God. Oh no. Oh no, oh no.” You steal a harried glimpse of the clunky black alarm clock on your nightstand. The flashing red numbers inform you that you have approximately ten more minutes until he arrives.

You jog pantsless to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of sweet tea—ice cold, bright with a squeeze of lemon juice—and pace back and forth across the wooden floor as you sip it. The pine boards slope at just the slightest angle; if you laid an apple by your feet, it would roll. The house is sinking. It was built at the turn of the twentieth century, but it won’t live to see the next. Ailing sunlight casts your shadow against the wall, mint green, spider-leg cracks inching through the paint. Outside cicadas buzz and doves coo in long, mournful whirrs.

You pick up the phone—pink to match the boombox that is now playing Poison’s Nothin’ But A Good Time—next to the refrigerator and dial with one finger, your other hand still clutching the frosty glass of sweet tea. It rings twice before he answers.

“Wassup?” Amir says distractedly. You can hear a commotion from his living room on the other side of town: his grandmother squawking, ambient applause, Wheel Of Fortune.

“Quick, what should I wear?”

“Huh?”

“The guy! The guy from the ad! I called the guy! What should I be wearing when he shows up?”

Amir cackles. “Ho, you must be truly desperate, why the fuck are you asking me?” There is some shrill protestation in the background. “Grandma, don’t you dare try to act like you’ve never heard that word before, we just rented Aliens.”

“You know what men like,” you plead.

“Not the straight ones!” And then, not to you: “Grandma, calm down. Grandma, Grandma! It’s my homegirl. She has an emergency. She’s got a man coming over and she doesn’t know what to wear. What did you wear for Pop Pop? What? What?! You expect me to believe you got seven kids out of that dude with just some old floral nightgown?! Prairie girl fabulous? Looking like you’re on your way to join the Donner Party? Okay, if you say so! Phyllis knows best!” Amir’s attention returns to you. “Grandma suggests a nightgown.”

You are skeptical. “That seems slutty.”

“You’re inviting some stranger over for an all-expenses-paid ride on the Pussy Express and you’re concerned about looking slutty?!”

He has a point. “Okay. Okay. Yeah. You’re right. Okay.”

“You wear that nightgown with confidence and you take that random kinky man directly to bed, do you understand me?��� Amir orders.

“Totally,” you say, gulping sweet tea with a shaking hand.

“Good luck. I gotta go, it’s the Bonus Round. Hope you have a few rounds to tell me about tomorrow.” Then he hangs up.

Back in your bedroom closet, you find a black satin slip that runs to your ankles and flows like a ballgown. You put it on some nights when you’re feeling desirable, after a bath of bubbles and steam, candles and Madonna, freshly shaved legs and shimmering with Pond’s, when you want to lounge around daydreaming, when you want to remember the fantasies you once had about what your life might turn out to be. Now you wear it in the fading daylight, nothing underneath and golden sunbeams turning your skin to something that warms and glows.

You appraise yourself in your dusty dresser mirror, and you think: Not too bad, actually. You’ve had your hair up in a haphazard bun. You reach to take it down, then stop yourself. You like the wayward wisps, the I-don’t-care-too-much casualness. Your breathing is slow and calm again. There is a noise outside: tires crunching on gravel. Your glass of sweet tea, now mostly just ice cubes, is sweating on top of your dresser. You grab the glass, swipe the Bayou Journal off your bed, and take both to the kitchen counter, still speckled with flour, powdered sugar, flecks of cinnamon. Then you pad across the sloping wooden floor in your bare feet to open the front door. Amber dusk streams in; you can hear bullfrogs croaking and the hoots of the long-eared owl that lives in the collapsing, overgrown shed behind the house. Spanish moss hangs like cobwebs, like chandeliers. The tree swing rocks idly in the breeze. The first notes of You Shook Me All Night Long play from the kitchen boombox.

His car is red, sporty, with a logo on the grill that you don’t recognize, a series of circles intertwined like rings. He cuts the engine and steps out into the driveway as you watch from behind the screen, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest. He’s tall, trim, blonde, wearing Adidas sneakers and light-wash jeans and a Marlboro jacket that it’s far too hot for. He peers around, taking in the trees and the house through his black aviator sunglasses. He puffs one last time on a cigarette before putting it out on his own windshield and starting towards the porch. And immediately, primally, you crave him like water or air.

He climbs the groaning steps, splitting wood and rusty nails. You open the screen door to meet him in the threshold. And he takes off his sunglasses so he can look at you, stowing them in a pocket of his jacket, his gaze not wavering from yours, his lips not saying a word. Yes, he has a scar, but it doesn’t diminish him in the slightest. Yes, his left eye may be glass, but you wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t already told you. You’re too tangled up in the right. His iris is a brisk greyish blue, not like the ocean, not like the bayou, more like the sky before a hurricane, heavy with the threat of wind and rain. His face is strong, jarring, beautiful in a rare way. His full lips are curling into a grin.

At last, you speak first, an inane observation that feels somehow significant. “You found me.”

“I did.” He nods towards the large lavender sign out by the mouth of the gravel driveway. Hand-painted on it are the words Hummingbird Bakery and a logo that Amir designed, a hummingbird feeding on the frosting swirl of a cupcake as if it’s a flower flush with nectar. “You told me to look for the sign. That helped.”

“What kind of car do you drive? I don’t recognize it.”

“It’s an Audi Quattro.”

“Audi,” you repeat, like a hopelessly distant place, New York City or Los Angeles or Paris or the moon. “Is that British?”

“German, actually.”

“You’re from a very different world.”

“Yeah, I am.” His eye flicks up and down your body, black satin that curves and clings; his grin widens. “But I could learn to like yours, I think.”

You step back so he can follow you inside. The screen door shuts with a bang. Under the shadows, as the sun sets into the west, he unzips his Marlboro jacket and tosses it onto your living room couch. Underneath he wears a white t-shirt. We’re opposites, you think dazedly, wondering what he will taste like when he kisses you. He grazes his fingertips down the front of your throat, continues to your chest, stills when he hits the satin of your slip.

“You can tell me to stop whenever you want to,” he murmurs, and you breathe in his smoke and cologne and dauntless, dizzying self-assurance. “But until you say stop, I’m gonna keep going.”

Your heartbeat is drumming beneath his hand, part exhilaration and the rest nerves. You are afraid of disappointing him; you aren’t sure what to expect. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Aemond.”

Aemond. Foreign, like Audi, like Paris. You give him your own in return. He leans in, presses his hips to yours, denim and satin that you can feel his heat through. And you think he’s going to kiss your neck, or bite it, bruise it, mark it, claim it, claim you; but he only ghosts his parted lips from the edge of your jaw to your bare shoulder, inhaling slow and deep, drawing your atoms into his lungs until they tumble down the narrowest corridors and into his capillary beds, into his bloodstream. You moan softly, helplessly, and turn your face to kiss him.

“No,” Aemond growls, teasing you, catching your chin with one hand to hold you still. His other hand glides down the front of your slip and stops between your legs. Through satin the color of a starless midnight, his fingers stroke you roughly, commandingly. Animalistic yearning bolts low to weaken your knees, high to rip a gasp from your throat. “Nothing underneath,” he notes in approval.

Oh, I like him, you think, in equal parts ecstatic and petrified. I REALLY like him.

But are you going to be able to impress him too? Are you going to ruin this?

You whimper, unintentionally and almost inaudibly. Aemond is studying your face; furrows appear in his scarred brow, so faint and fleeting you might have imagined them. Then his hand retreats as he says: “Show me your toys.”

You gape up at him; this is not what you anticipated. “What?”

“I want to see how you make yourself come. You have toys, don’t you?”

“I do,” you admit, though you’ve never used them with anyone else before.

Aemond smirks mischieviously, then commands: “Show me. Right now.”

You lead him to your bedroom and slide open the middle drawer of your dresser. You glance at his reflection in the silvery glass of the mirror; he’s staring, not at your body but at your face, his gaze locked with yours, his mouth open, entranced, hungry. You move to stand against the wall, smiling sheepishly as Aemond shoves aside folded sheets and pillowcases to reveal your collection. It’s nothing too adventurous: five vibrators in different colors, styles, sizes.

“Quite the assortment,” he praises.

“They were gifts from a friend.”

Now Aemond is dubious. “A friend?”

“Don’t be jealous. He doesn’t like women.”

Aemond laughs, warm and boyish like he’s breaking character; and you are alarmed by the wave of fondness for him that crashes through you. It’s something that could pull you under. It’s something you could drown in. He picks up the largest vibrator: long, thick, pink like soft feminine vulnerability, like love. Then he is darkly, deliciously stern again. “On the bed.”

“No.” Not because you’re genuinely protesting. Because you want him to make you.

Aemond grabs you around your waist and drags you towards the bed as you squeal, giggle, fight him halfheartedly. He throws you down onto the wildflower-patterned duvet and climbs between your thighs, parting them as he pushes the hem of your black satin slip up to your waist. Abruptly, you are bare for him, exposed, fiery dusk air cool against your wetness. Aemond is still fully clothed, white shirt and pale blue jeans. He is holding your legs open with his own. You can see the bulge of his cock beneath the denim: at least as large as the vibrator and hard with insistent longing.

I want him, you think as you hear the vibrator click on. I want him, I want him…

Aemond brings the pink silicone tip to your flesh, and instantly you’re ravenous. It shocks you how much more erotic this is when someone else is holding it, when someone else has you entirely at their mercy. You cry out, loud and shameless, euphoric. Your back arches; your fingers twist into the duvet. As he presses the vibrator down more forcefully, Aemond braces his hips against yours, grinding into you through his jeans, taunting you, conquering you.

You fumble for the button and zipper of his jeans. “Please—”

“No,” Aemond snarls, beaming, snatching your hand and pinning it up by your head. His other hand is still circling your clit with the tip of the vibrator. “You haven’t earned it yet.”

“Aemond, please, I need you—”

“No,” he says, defiant. He makes the rules. He has the power; he’s in control. Suddenly, he pulls the vibrator away. You yelp in dismay. “You know,” Aemond quips cavalierly. “It’s a shame you have such a difficult time finishing when you’re with a man. I bet you’re not even close.”

“I am,” you whine, in agony, in ecstasy.

Aemond pretends to be surprised. “Hm.” He returns the vibrator to your skin, slick, hot, aching in the most wondrous way. You sigh as the pleasure surges through you, as you soar up to the previous plateau and then begin to ascend beyond it. You must have repositioned yourself without noticing; Aemond releases your hand to smack his palm against the inside of your thigh. “Keep your legs apart. I want you wide open for me.”

“I will, I promise.” I’ll do anything you tell me to.

Aemond’s hand ventures lower. Two of his fingers glide inside you and thrust in time with his hips. “Fuck,” he hisses, breaking character again; and something rocks through his shoulders, his spine, a divine temptation that he is battling.

“Aemond, more,” you plead, looking at the massive outline of his cock under his jeans.

“Not yet,” he pants, fucking you with his fingers as the vibrator hums against your clit. “You have to come for me first, baby. You have to earn it.”

And you’re close, you really are, you’re closer than you ever would have imagined you’d be with him tonight, this stranger, this elusive British man, this man from a personal ad in the Bayou Journal that you almost never replied to. Your hair has come undone and is wild around your face; your heart is pounding frantically; your skin is bathed in a sheen of victorious perspiration. When was the last time someone made you feel like this? You can’t recall; the answer might be never. There is a spellbinding, intensifying sensation of warmth, of opening, you’re only seconds from the brink, you’re ready to step off the precipice and into open blue air the same color as his eyes—

Aemond yanks the vibrator away again, grinning toothily down at you.

“No!” You scrabble for him with shaking hands, pulling yourself up as you reach for the vibrator. Aemond pushes you back onto the bed. Despite your protests, you love the feeling of his weight on top of yours; you love the organic symphony he’s built of, muscle and bone and skill and power. His fingers are still pumping in and out of you, keeping you soaked and throbbing, pinning you to the edge of an orgasm without permitting you to succumb to it.

“It’s going to be so good for you like this, baby,” Aemond insists, low and raspy. He’s reading your face, attentive to every detail, drinking up your desperate body and quivering voice. “I swear I’m not torturing you for no reason. Let me show you. Let me take care of you. When it happens, it’s going to blow your fucking mind. Are you ready?”

“Yes, now, please, do it now,” you whimper as you lie beneath him, open, bare, senseless, vanquished.

Aemond drags his tongue over the tip of the vibrator, moaning with lust as he tastes you. Then he at last presses the pink silicone to your clit once more. In your electrified nerves, in your scalding blood, there are sparks and momentum and currents rushing towards the cataclysmic breaking of a rogue wave. “Nice and slow,” Aemond murmurs. “Let it build.”

Instead of the peak, you reach another plateau, so high and so rapturous you can’t stand it, you can’t fathom climbing any farther. It’s becoming so sharp and intense it’s almost painful. Fresh anxiety flashes in your mind like lightning. The momentum begins to dissipate like dewdrops under the late-morning sun. Oh no, I’m going to lose it, I’m going to disappoint him—

Aemond lifts the vibrator off you again; before you have time to collect yourself enough to speak, to apologize, he’s slipped his fingers out of you and carefully guided the vibrator inside, stretching you, filling you, thrusting rhythmically but not too viciously or too deep. He places his thumbprint on the place where the vibrator was just seconds ago and circles quickly, once, twice, again, and then…

You try not to scream, but you can’t help it, can’t stop it; the climax wrenches out of you indescribable pleasure, vanished fears, awe and relief, twisted muscles and gasping breaths, every electrical impulse of every atom, and each time you believe it’s over it rolls a little farther like an endless summer afternoon. When it’s done—truly done—you aren’t sure exactly how it happens but suddenly you’re sitting upright on the bed and the vibrator is lying forgotten on top of the duvet and Aemond is laughing, kissing you—sweat and nicotine, smoke and salt—and caressing your face with his hands, saying: “You were such a good girl. You did amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

“Okay,” you exhale unsteadily, smiling. You nod to the very noticeable bulge in his jeans. “Your turn.”

“No,” Aemond says primly.

“What?”

“No,” he repeats. “Not today.”

“But…but���why?”

The curl of his lips is crooked and playful. “To prove I’m not just here to get myself off.” He kisses you again, far more tenderly than any random dom from a personal ad should. “You don’t trust me. But maybe next time you will.”

“How could I trust you? I don’t even know you.”

“We’ll have to spend more time together.”

“You seriously aren’t going to fuck me right now? Me? A mostly-naked stranger you met up with exclusively for the purposes of fucking?”

“Are you dissatisfied?”

In truth, no; your pulse is slowing, your thoughts are calm, your lust is satiated, you’re reasonably certain that you’ve sprained no less than four muscles. You feel like the sky after rain: emptied, unburdened, untroubled, at peace. “Not at all.”

“Then you shouldn’t be complaining.”

You reach out to touch Aemond’s unscarred cheek and he smiles. You try to ghost your fingertips over the left side of his face and he flinches away, leaves the bed, takes the vibrator to the bathroom to scrub it with soap and water. “Can I at least pour you a glass of sweet tea or something?” you call after him. “I feel guilty. I feel like I didn’t uphold my end of the bargain.”

“You exceeded all of my expectations,” Aemond says with a strange sort of somberness. “But sweet tea sounds great.”

You take five minutes to clean up and change into real clothes—ratty denim shorts and a red, white, and blue Pepsi t-shirt, chaotic hair, no bra—and then meet Aemond in the kitchen. He’s surveying the large circular table, which is littered with covered cake plates in a hodgepodge of sizes and colors; you found most of them at yard sales and thrift shops. The sun has set and the stars have risen; the kitchen is illuminated by yellow-hued florescent light. Night air flows in through the screens of the open windows. The boombox is currently playing Tiffany’s I Think We’re Alone Now.

“What’s the deal with that?” Aemond asks about the cluttered kitchen table.

“They’re the baked goods. For my bakery.”

“Right,” he says, remembering, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “The sign out front.”

“Would you like anything? Today we had butterscotch chiffon cake, coconut custard cake, blackberry dark chocolate cupcakes, pecan pie, red velvet brownies, lemon blueberry cookies, lavender black tea cookies, chocolate meringue pie, butter pecan muffins…”

“How about those?” He points.

“Oh! Those are banana bread cupcakes. One of my favorites.”

“Banana bread…cupcakes?”

“Here.” You plop one on a plate for Aemond, then go to the refrigerator to pour two tall glasses of sweet tea. “A lot of people put chocolate chips in their banana bread, but I feel like any chocolate really eclipses the banana flavor. It’s so subtle, you know? So what I do instead is cinnamon, honey, cream cheese frosting, and a tiny bit of sea salt mixed into the batter. If you get the ratio just right, there’s this really great blend of saltiness and sweetness, and the banana is still the star of the show. Of course I’ve fucked up plenty of times too and almost given myself dangerously high blood pressure. If I ruin a batch, I’m the one who has to eat it. We can’t let anything go to waste. Our profit margin is thinner than a crescent moon on the best months.”

“Oh my God,” Aemond says. He’s taken a bite and is now gawking at the banana bread cupcake. “You made this?” He gestures to the table. “You made all of this?”

“My best friend Amir runs the business with me, but most of the recipes are mine. My mom used to bake all the time when I was little. Now she has rheumatoid arthritis and has given it up, more or less, but that’s where I learned a lot of what I know. And I try to come up with new ideas each week to add to the rotation.”

“This is exceptional,” Aemond says. His mouth is full of the rest of the cupcake. He washes it down with a few gulps of sweet tea; ice cubes jangle in the misty glass. “This is, like, insanely good. Can I have another one…?” He’s already lifting the cover off the cake plate.

You chuckle. “Yeah, seriously, have as many as you like.”

“How much do you sell them for?”

“The cupcakes are $1, but you don’t have to pay me. You get the unrequited orgasm discount.”

“Just $1 each.” Aemond is incredulous. You aren’t sure what that’s about. He sets the second cupcake down on the table, tugs a black leather wallet out of his jeans pocket, and gives you a $10 bill.

“Aemond, really, you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. Take the money. Stop talking about it.”

You smirk up at him. “Is that an order, sir?”

He grabs your jaw with one forceful hand, kisses you roughly, bites your lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood. He tastes like cinnamon, honey, sugar, sex. “Yes,” he says, grinning wickedly. Then his hands drop to unbutton your shorts. The idea of stopping Aemond doesn’t even cross your mind; your desire for him—him specifically—is back, flaring red and primeval and irresistible. “I want you on top of that counter—”

Outside there are footsteps bounding up the front porch, loud on the creaking boards. You tear away from Aemond and hurry to re-button your shorts. What? Already??

You know exactly who it must be.

Well, now I’m definitely never going to see Aemond again.

He’s terrified, he’s wondering whether he should try to jump out of a window. But really, he’s already been spotted; his Audi Quattro is still waiting for him in the gravel driveway. “Please don’t tell me that’s your homicidal armed boyfriend or something.”

“No,” you say. “It’s my daughter.”

“Wait, your…?!”

The door swings open; you hardly ever lock it. Cadi trots in just as you are flipping over the copy of the Bayou Journal on the kitchen counter so Aemond’s personal ad is no longer visible. Instead, what now faces up—dotted with flour, powdered sugar, cinnamon, grease stains of butter—is a column about the rigs opened in Lake Verret. Just what this town needs, you think distractedly. An environmental disaster.

“Mom, whose radical car is that—?” Then Cadi spies Aemond and blinks at him a few times. She is ten years old but thinks she’s your age, short hair, short temper, denim overalls and a t-shirt underneath patterned with multicolored horses.

“This is Aemond,” you explain. He waves awkwardly and then resumes nibbling on his second banana bread cupcake, avoiding her scrutiny. “He’s a friend.”

“But you don’t have any friends,” Cadi replies.

“Watch it, Child Of The Corn. I have friends.”

“You have like one friend.”

“What happened to your sleepover with Mawmaw? I thought you were excited to trick her into watching Hellraiser.”

“Blockbuster didn’t have it. Then Great Aunt Ethel called and said she broke her hip. Mawmaw dropped me off here on her way to the hospital.”

“And she didn’t even think to check with me first, huh?”

“As if you’d have anything better to do.” Cadi races to the refrigerator—careening around a shellshocked Aemond—and heaves open the door. “What’s for dinner?”

“I think we have some Swanson’s meals left. Oh, and spaghetti.”

She narrows her eyes at you. “Who made it?”

“You’re in luck! Not me. Amir.”

“Yay!” Cadi trills, then drags out the pan and begins spooning mounds of spaghetti onto a plate. Aemond looks to you, intrigued.

You say: “I bake, I don’t cook.”

“She really doesn’t,” Cadi concurs.

“Completely different skillset.”

Cadi places a few paper towels over the heaping plate so sauce doesn’t splatter all over the microwave and then sets it to three minutes. As she waits to eat, she wanders over to where the Bayou Journal is lying on the counter and scans the page: Viserys Targaryen, three state-of-the-art oil rigs, Lake Verret, an additional 50 employees hired, Jade Dragon Energy. “Those bastards are going to get their way, I guess.”

You sigh. “Yup.”

Aemond is alarmed. He polishes off the last of his cupcake, frowning as he licks frosting from his lips. “You don’t approve?”

“They’ll blow up the whole town,” Cadi says matter-of-factly.

You smile wanly at Aemond as you sip your sweet tea. “You work for Jade Dragon, right?”

He stares back at you—stunned, perhaps even fearful, a deer flooded with headlights—but doesn’t speak.

“It’s alright. I figured you must. Some smart British guy way out here in Cajun Country? It’s gotta be for a job. Don’t worry. We won’t shoot and skin you or anything. It’s not your fault. You’re just collecting a paycheck, it’s not like you’re running the company.”

“Right.” Aemond grabs a third cupcake and gnaws at it. After a moment he adds: “I have a degree in petroleum engineering. I just moved to Napoleonville last week.”

“I knew it,” you say.

“Boo!” Cadi heckles jokingly. The microwave beeps, then she disappears into her bedroom with her plate of spaghetti. You hear Cadi turn on her little television and flip through the channels until she finds Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Aemond watches her closed door for a few seconds—still processing, you assume—and then turns back to you.

“Her name’s Katie?”

“Cadi. C-a-d-i. It’s short for Arcadia.”

He is impressed. “Greece?”

You titter nervously. You don’t know what he means. “It’s a town up by Shreveport, it’s where Bonnie and Clyde were arrested or killed or something. I’m not sure. Her father picked it.”

“You didn’t have an opinion?”

“Um, I wasn’t really…uh…conscious for a few days after she was born. By the time I was up and around again, he’d already filled out the birth certificate.”

What is that you see flicker across his face like the transient surge of a lightning bug? Curiosity? Apprehension? “I see. And her father is…” Aemond raises a blonde eyebrow, the one his scar cuts through. “On an aircraft carrier somewhere?”

You laugh. “He’s not deployed. We’re divorced, Willis lives about fifteen minutes down the road. It’s amicable.”

“So I don’t need to worry about him showing up on your front porch to murder me with a 2x4 full of nails.”

“No. Although he is the town sheriff.”

Aemond smirks. Is this a challenge or an inconvenience? “Why’d you two split up?”

You shrug, glancing at Cadi’s bedroom door. She is quite aggressive with her television volume; you’re confident she won’t be able to listen in if you keep your voice low. “It’s not that interesting a story.”

“I’m extremely interested.” And he sincerely appears to be, head tilted to the side, eyes fixed on you (though you know the left one sees nothing), thoughts whirling like storm winds.

“Well…we only ever got married because of…” You gesture towards Cadi’s room. Aemond nods, following along. “And I was too young and I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know what I wanted out of a man, I didn’t even know I had the right to set standards to measure a husband by. Willis wasn’t terrible. He didn’t hit me. He just wasn’t really who I wanted.” You chew at your lower lip, peering down at the kitchen counter, drawing circles in the sparse flour dust. “He never even proposed to me. Not properly, I mean. I told him I was pregnant and he said: Well, guess we oughta get married, huh sugar? and then drove me to the Kmart up in Gonzales to pick out a ring.”

“Classy,” Aemond mutters.

“I had to buy it myself, actually. Willis didn’t have enough cash on him. He paid me back later, but still. It wasn’t about the ring. I don’t need gold and diamonds. But I need someone who really sees me and understands me and chooses me, you know? I’ve never felt chosen. And I decided I didn’t want to settle for that. If I ever get married again, I want the whole goddamn thing. The real thing. I want the candles and the flowers and a boombox blasting Heaven Is A Place On Earth. And if that’s not in the cards, I guess I’m not the marrying type.”

“And you’ll make do with occasional visits from your friendly neighborhood dom.”

You grin up at Aemond. “Yeah, exactly.”

“You really hate Jade Dragon?”

“Companies like that…they just use us. Our land, our labor. And then when they decimate the place they pack up and disappear overnight, no pensions, no retirement, no unemployment, no meaningful cleanup, just Thanks for the millions! Bye! and we’re left to live in their filth.”

“That’s a rather cynical perspective,” Aemond says.

“It’s a realistic perspective,” you counter. “In 1965, there was a pipeline explosion in Natchitoches, in ‘79 there was an oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, in ‘80 a Texaco rig accidentally drilled into a salt mine under Lake Peigneur and destroyed the whole ecosystem. Two weeks ago there was a refinery explosion an hour east of here in Norco. 4,500 people had to be evacuated from their homes. So no, the jobs sound nice, but in my humble estimation they’re not worth dying for.”

Aemond considers you, a look that is not patronizing or combative but not convinced either. And there’s something else too: a caginess, a nervousness.

“And these Jade Dragon people, the Targaryens? They have a history,” you continue. “I read about it in the Bayou Journal. Last year they had an oil spill at an offshore rig near Ketchikan, Alaska. They poured hundreds of thousands of barrels of poison into the ocean and killed a bunch of dolphins and whales and everything. Fishermen went bankrupt, people committed suicide.”

“Mistakes happen.” Aemond places his empty sweet tea glass in the sink.

“But they didn’t make it right. Their lawyers blamed a defective piece of equipment and kicked liability back to the manufacturer. They’ll be battling it out in court for the next decade. And meanwhile, the people of Ketchikan get nothing but misery. I don’t want Napoleonville to end up like that.”

Aemond gazes out the kitchen window and into the cicada-rattling night, faraway, pensive.

“But seriously,” you say, more casually now. “I get that it’s not your fault, Aemond. I don’t hate you or anything. You’re working for a living like anyone else. You can only do so much.”

He looks back to you and smiles vaguely. “I just go where they tell me to.”

“And that’s why you like to be in control when you’re with me.”

“Yes,” Aemond says; and on his face—strong, scarred, perfect—you can see that he is reminiscing, that he is planning what he wants to do to you next. But he can’t do any of it. Not here, not now.

“I’m sorry about…you know. The kid thing. I really didn’t think she’d be home tonight. I would never subject her to something like that, walking in to find a strange guy in the house. And I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable either.”

“It’s okay. I believe you.”

“I don’t usually do this. I’m sure you think I’m lying, but I’m not. I’ve had two boyfriends since I got divorced seven years ago, and both times it didn’t last long and Cadi never met them. And it wasn’t…like it is with you. The dynamic, I mean. The…control thing. They were just normal dudes.”

“And they couldn’t satisfy you,” Aemond says, taunting, proud, setting your blood on fire.

“No. They couldn’t. Not even close.”

You both stand silently in the kitchen amidst a cascade of inconsequential noise: Eurythmics from the little pink boombox, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles from Cadi’s room, cicadas and bullfrogs and the long-eared owl from the world outside that is primordial and feral and green. For the first time in as long as you can remember, you feel not like the piecemeal potential of a desirable woman but whole. Aemond’s right eye traces every curve and edge of you in a way that makes you think: Maybe I will see him again after all.

“Come on,” you say, turning towards the front door. “I’ll walk you out.”

But when he steps onto the creaking porch—pulling on his Marlboro jacket, watching lightning bugs bloom like daisies in the yard—Aemond seems to be stalling. “This is lopsided,” he says, tapping the wooden boards with his Adidas sneakers.

“I know. The whole foundation is, it’s sinking. We’ll have to move eventually. But we’ve been in this place since Cadi was five, it has a lot of memories. She calls it the Fall-Down House.”

“Cute,” Aemond says, but he’s pondering something. “Do you own it?”

“Oh no, God no. We rent.”

“Are you saving for a down payment to put on a new house?”

This is a rude question. “A little,” you reply curtly. Not enough. You need to make money to save money.

“Okay.” Aemond senses your discomfort. He’s good at that; it’s an advantageous skill for a dom to possess, knowing when he’s approaching a limit long before you have to shut him down. He descends the porch steps. “I’ll be back for more of those cupcakes—” There is a shrill, alien hissing from out by the tree line. Aemond shouts and scrambles back onto the porch, throwing an arm in front of you to shield you from his enigmatic nocturnal adversary. “What the fuck was that?!”

“Just a gator,” you reassure him, amused.

“A what?”

“An alligator.” You show him the shadow that lurks beneath a young oak tree draped with Spanish moss. “She’s over there. Just stay on the gravel once you get off the porch.”

Aemond is puzzled. How does anyone live in this hellscape? his face says. “How do you know it’s a female?”

“She’s not too big, and she doesn’t bellow. But she sure loves to hiss.”

“I think alligators should have gone extinct with the rest of the dinosaurs.”

“Well, there’s a secret to dealing with them.”

“Yeah?”

You smile, skating your fingers into the sleeve of Aemond’s Marlboro jacket and up his forearm until you feel goosebumps rise on his skin. “If she gets mean, you just have to bite back.”

Aemond chuckles, turns your face towards his, kisses the apple your cheek…and then, for only a moment, his teeth close around the sensitive flesh there leaving a whirlpool of pulsing, forbidden heat. He whispers through your hair: “See you soon.”

“Will you?”

“Yes,” he says, severely now. It’s a commandment, it’s a need. “I absolutely will.”

Aemond leaves you, strides across the gravel driveway without glancing back, ducks into his car, lights a cigarette; you can see the rust-colored glow through the windshield as he takes a drag. You wait in a flurry of moths under the dim florescent bulb of the front porch until his Audi Quattro veers onto Route 401 and disappears.

I hope he meant it, you think as a lightning bug lands on your knuckles and illuminates there like the gemstone of a ring. I hope I’ll see him again.

Then you shake away the insect and go inside to see if Cadi wants to help you clean up the kitchen and get a brown sugar pie baked for tomorrow. As compensation, you’ll offer her the $10 bill Aemond gave you for the cupcakes.

[thesugarclubs-blog]

Sticky Little Words - Robin Buckley x OC

warnings: post S4 ST spoilers, hurt/comfort, panic attacks, Robin's first kiss

word count: 7k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1322227842-sticky-little-words-jordan

Masterlist

“Aw come on, it won't be that bad,” Robin elbowed Steve who still looked like a kicked puppy. 

She had been trying to get him to leave his house for a week. And when he finally did it was only because Dustin’s mom had asked him to drive Dustin to the high school. She was worried about them both and tagged along hoping that maybe by being needed all three of them would feel a little less hopeless about their situation. 

“Yeah,” Steve groaned, hauling the box of old blankets onto his hip from the trunk of his car. “You okay Henderson?” he asked, watching Dustin limp toward the gymnasium with a box in his arms. “Awesome,” he nodded, slamming the truck shut when the teenager didn’t answer. 

“He can’t stay mad forever, he’ll come around,” Robin assured him. She fixed the straps on her floral sundress, making sure the black t-shirt underneath was laying flat before following them inside. 

The gymnasium was packed with people, and everywhere Robin looked a sad face was looking back at her. She shut her eyes trying to block out their heartbreaking faces, unable to move any further through the wide gym doors. Her chest was tight and her heart felt like it might jump from her chest if it beat any faster. And even though they looked like a couple of teenagers just showing up to do their best, Robin knew the truth and it ate her like a rabid dog. They had tried so hard to prevent this, all of their efforts failing time and time again. She would have almost rathered they…

She felt Steve’s hand link with hers cutting her grim thoughts short with his touch. “We couldn’t help than, let’s help now,” he said quietly, “come on.” 

Robin opened her eyes, looking over at her best friend, and inhaled sharply with a scared nod. 

The quick rise and fall of her chest gave away every thought that moved through her mind, causing Steve to give her hand a soft squeeze. It was moments like these where Robin was more than grateful for her best friend. Having someone there who knew exactly how to ground her thoughts and keep her steady was something she hadn’t experienced in the past but having him and everyone who knew around her weirdly made it easier to cope. 

Well, not everyone. 

“Robin…” His voice whispered in her ear once more. 

She shook her head once and plastered on a soft smile as she met the amber eyes of Steve, “I’m fine, promise,” she cleared her throat, slipping her hand from his and walking further into the gym. 

Robin could sense the look he was giving her, it was the same look he always gave her when she said that. But he was right. It was time to actually do some good and help where they could. Since they couldn’t stop what happened, the least they could do was help with the fallout. 

Steve’s name rang out through the gym as the high school coach called him over to help move some canned goods that were too heavy for others to carry. Robin watched him hesitate as he was about to go after Dustin but he’d already limped off, away from both of them. Steve’s hand went to his side and he winced, but she could see him brush it off before making his way over to the large man who’d called him. 

“Hey, you!” 

Robin spun around and came face to face with one of the head volunteers. 

“You here to help or do you need help?” She asked brashly. 

“Uh, I’m - I’m here to help, whatever you need,” Robin stated quickly, tucking her arms around herself and pulling her lips into a thin line. 

The large woman nodded once and gestured for her to follow, “This way - we need another person sorting clothing. Mens, womens, kids, babies - sizing doesn’t matter at this station, just sort,” she stopped in front of a long table that was piled high with all sorts of different clothing items, “any questions, ask someone else,” she stated before stalking off towards the water station. 

Robin stood frozen for a moment in front of the table, looking between the pile of clothes and out into the gymnasium at her whole town. She sucked in a sharp breath, her mind becoming cloudy with dark thoughts and flashes of the previous days. A tight rope like feeling squeezed the sides of her neck, and she could hear the blood rushing around her head. 

“Don’t worry,” a soft voice came from behind the pile, “it’s not as daunting as it looks” 

Blonde curls and green eyes, with the most beautiful freckles Robin had ever seen, rounded the table and stopped in front of her with a bright smile on her face. 

“I’m Jordan, my friends call me Jo,” she extended her hand out, “look’s like you’re stuck with me today” 

Which she definitely wouldn’t mind. 

Robin accepted the handshake with a tender smile, eyes glued to the girl in front. Jordan's warm, green eyes glimmered under the sun rays pushing their way through the windows, illuminating her blonde hair like a halo. 

She was mesmerized by how pretty she was. A pretty face with an even prettier name. 

She also realized she hadn't stopped shaking her hand.

She shook her head lightly to focus on what she'd just said. "Nice to meet you, Jo.  I'm Robin, but my friends call me Robs." 

Jordan's giggle was one of the sweetest she'd ever heard. She couldn't stop smiling from it. 

"Robs...I like that, it's cute."

They pulled back and Robin turned to what seemed like hundred piles of clothes on the table, mostly in an attempt to hide her flushed cheeks from the girl's words. 

"So you helping me out with this...mission today? I don't even know where to start,” Jordan gestured with her hands toward the table.

Robin fidgeted with her rings, eyes traveling from Jo’s hand to the pile of clothes and back. Her blue eyes took in her bright violet frost painted nails, followed by long delicate fingers adorned by colorful rings. 

Jordan cleared her throat softly, calling her attention back, a knowing smile graced her lips and she raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, yes I um I am yeah. Let’s um, let’s do this.” Robin’s heart hammered against her ribcage and felt the heat creep up her neck and cheeks at having been caught staring. 

“Ok,” she laughed, “ let’s just start separating them in piles on the floor and then we can bag ‘em?” 

“Yeah, sounds good.” 

“Sweet, follow my lead then Robs” she voiced with a playful wink. 

Robin felt the heat crawl up the back of her neck clearing her throat at the way her name sounded rolling off of Jordan's tongue, "you got it." She mumbled, embarrassed that already within the span of thirty seconds, this girl had her in a puddle on the floor. 

Jordan smiled over her shoulder at Robin as she began sorting a pile of clothes. Robin took the pile next to the one Jo was working on and began sorting the mens from the womens. 

"So I don't think I've seen you around before..." Robin finally choked out, her voice cracking slightly as the nerves began to take over once again, "I mean...did you go--do you go to Hawkins?" 

The sweetest melodic giggle fell from Jo's lips and her head dipped slightly before peering up at Robin through thick lashes. 

“Actually not, no. I’m not from Hawkins. Just came here to help,” she shrugged. Robin followed her every move. “What about you?” 

“Hm?” Robin asked which made Jo chuckle. “No- um, I mean, yeah. Yeah, I’m from Hawkins. My friends and I actually…uhm,” she wanted to tell Jo about her summer but decided that it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to tell someone you barely knew that you almost died in another dimension. 

“You know what? Never mind,” she smiled and her cheeks turned pink in embarrassment. 

Robin watched Jo as she was sorting clothes. “You- you’re good at this. Have you helped out before?” she mentally slapped herself at her attempt to flirt with the girl. What was that kind of question? You’re good at piling clothes. Not your first time? She mocked herself in her mind. God, get yourself together, she thought to herself.

Jo smiled at her, leaning on the table of unfolded clothes she looked around to make sure no one was listening and leaned closer to Robin. A bundle of her soft, blonde curls fell into her face and Robin’s eyes flickered nervously from her lips to her big green eyes. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Jordan whispered, raising an eyebrow playfully. 

Robin nodded, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear to keep herself from doing the same thing to the piece that hung loosely against Jo’s face. Her fingers shook subtly and she could feel her toes curling in her shoes. 

“I’m something of a clothes-folding champion,” she said, her smile growing. “I’m here undercover, if the NLA,” she licked her lip, “The National Laundry Association…” she explained causing laughter to bubble from Robin. “If they find out I lent my delicate, quick services to charity, there would be hell to pay.”

“You sound awfully important and to think you’re here helping the poor, tragedy-stricken citizens of Hawkins out of the kindness of your own heart,” Robin laughed, her nerves settling a touch. 

“If you promise to keep quiet, I can teach you a thing or two,” Jo winked and butterflies erupted in Robin’s chest and stomach. 

She swallowed tightly, “please teach me your ways oh humble NLA agent.” 

“Funny,” Jordan laughed, turning back to the laundry, “you’re funny.”

Robin followed her instruction carefully, piling all the shirts together as she tried not to get too distracted by the gentle curve of her pouty lips. It wasn’t until Jo spoke again that she realized she had stopped mid-fold and was staring again. 

“Hi,” she laughed with that same bright smile, “so uh… who’s the pretty boy?” Jordan pointed to where Steve was struggling with a few flats of soup. 

“Steve?” Robin almost laughed, nervous that she was about to lose the prettiest girl she had seen in her entire life to Harrington… “he’s my hopeless best friend but before you get excited he’s pretty tied up in this tall, dark, and dramatic dungeons and dragons dork from school.” 

“He’s not really my type anyways,” Jo giggled, looking over at Robin with a twinkle in her eye.

Her breath faltered, just a touch at the way she looked at her. The sun filtered through the gymnasium windows showing off the golden flecks sprinkled in the sea of green that were her eyes. She swallowed thickly, willing herself to speak and not just stare. 

“Really? Steve seems to be everybody’s type, usually, I mean,” she shook her head and looked back to the pile of clothes in front of her as the words just kept spilling out of her to no end, “Always fawning over him left and right, it’s the hair you know? Pretty sure that’s what got to Eddie too. All that Farrah Fawcett hairspray has come in handy. SHIT! Ok, you didn’t hear that from me.” 

She felt a soft touch on her hand and her gaze jolted upward, to those beautiful green eyes and the freckles littered below them. A barely there touch but every one of her nerve endings was shot instantly. 

“You’re rambling Robs,” she laughed, “and yes really, Steve’s not my type. Not really what I’m looking for, you know?” Jo smiled and gave her hand a squeeze before pulling her hand back slowly. 

A tingle of excitement started to build in Robin's stomach and she had to bite her lip to hold back a smile, turning her attention instead to a pile of baby pajamas and socks that were a crumpled mess. 

"Well, it's preeeeetty slim pickings in Hawkins nowadays," Robin chuckled awkwardly, her face heating up even more as she stumbled over her words. "You know, now that there's a big gate, I mean, hole, or fault line thing in the town." 

"Jesus Christ Buckley, get it together," Steve would tell her right now. Robin could practically hear his voice in the back of her head. Maybe those bats gave him the ability to communicate telepathically and he is watching me humiliate myself while he tosses around chicken noodle soup like it was his new favorite pastime, she thought to herself before Jo's giggle caught her attention. It was a light, bright sound that had Robin wishing she could record it on tape. 

"I don't know," Jordan smiled, neatly moving a stack of t-shirts to the side before she fixed her seafoam gaze on Robin, the mischief clear in her expression. "You might get lucky. Stranger things have happened." 

The butterflies swarmed in her stomach again as Jordan smiled brightly up at her. Robin was never going to be able to keep up with her. 

Just be yourself. 

Steve's voice suddenly filled her head. He'd be making fun of her right now but she knew his advice would be just that. How was she supposed to be herself when she couldn't even function around blonde curls and jade green eyes?

"Robs?" Jordan's voice filtered through the swirling drain of thoughts in her head. 

Robin glanced down at Jo, "Yeah?" 

"You've been folding the same shirt for the past two minutes..." Jordan grinned softly, "What's going on up there?" 

Well that's a loaded question, Robin thought but chuckled, "oh ya know, a little of this..." she finally finished folding the shirt, "a little of that." 

Jordan nodded, "You're quite the mystery, Robin." 

Robin glanced over at Jordan, her eyes were bright and the smile that played on her lips made Robin want to lean in and-- 

"How's it going over here, ladies?" Harrington's voice suddenly boomed between them a stupid smirk glued to his cheeks. 

“Oh well,” Jordan gave Robin a flirty look, “little of this, little of that.” 

Steve looked over at Robin, his amber eyes narrowing on her. He knew all too well what that meant with Robin and she silently begged him to behave. A cheeky grin spread across his face, eyes lighting up with mischief.  Do. Not. She mouthed across the table. 

“You guys look busy,” he turned back to Jo, taking a step back, “you look after her for me? She likes to wander off when she’s nervous,” he shrugged at Robin who was turning the color of a tomato. 

“I got her,” Jordan smiled, linking her hand around Robin’s bicep as Steve turned away. She leaned over, bumping her shoulder into Robin’s, “you gonna tell me why you’re nervous? Or do I have to guess?” 

“Oh I- um,” she chuckled awkwardly, simultaneously wanting to run away and inch impossibly closer to Jordan. Her fresh floral scent seeped in through her nose and she just wished she could nuzzle into the side of her neck and try and figure out what it was the jasmine was mixed with that made for such a heavenly combination. Robin almost felt her brain firing commands to get her to talk but she was completely frozen. 

Jordan narrowed her eyes at her and leaned in a little closer, her hot breath fanning against Robin’s ear, “you can trust me, you know?” Jo pulled back slightly and smiled, “But it’s totally fine if you don’t wanna tell me… right now, we have all day to talk and stuff.” 

“Thanks,” Robin murmured, giving her a soft smile. “Haven’t had much practice…folding clothes.” 

Jo grinned knowingly before grabbing another box of donations and tossing it onto the table. Her blonde curls fell over her shoulder and sent up another wave of that mouthwatering scent. 

“I get it. My hometown is pretty small too,” she shrugged, leaning on the table. Propping herself up with her elbows, Jordan leaned back with a sigh. “Took a while for me to find someone who also liked to fold clothes. But I’m always up to give a few lessons if needed.” 

“Jesus H. Christ,” Robin muttered, her cheeks flaming red as Jordan cackled. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” the blonde laughed before giving her a sincere look. “You’re just really pretty when you blush, that’s all. Makes me want to see it again.”

“You’ll definitely get to see it again, I’m sure,” Robin muttered not realizing that she’d said it loud enough for Jordan to hear until a soft snort came from her side. Her eyes went wide as a grimace fell over her features, “I didn’t..” 

Robin pinched the bridge of her nose, “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

Jordan’s hand rested on her forearm, the warmth of her fingertips leaving tiny little fires on Robin’s skin. 

“Robin, it’s fine,” she reassured, “you don’t have to be nervous, okay? I won’t bite.” Jordan winked nudging her playfully before grabbing a shirt from the pile. 

“Thanks,” Robin whispered as she watched her move and was already missing the heat from her body. 

Jordan leaned into her, “unless you want me to.” 

Robin’s eyes went wide again as giggles erupted next to her. 

“I’m sorry, that was the last one, I promise,” Jordan smirked, reaching between them to tuck the strand of wave that fell over Robin's ear again. 

The space of skin that Jordan had brushed with her finger felt warm and tingly even after she pulled her hand away. They finished folding the laundry, Jordan leaning against the rickety table with her back as she surveyed the gym. 

“Hey how about we steal a couple of sandwiches and make this a real date,” she said. 

“A date?” The words echoed around in her head at full blast. 

“A first date!” Jordan nodded, sure of herself. “What do you say? Up for some trouble?” 

Robin swallowed thickly, all the nerves and excitement jumbling up in her stomach into a flutter of butterflies. 

She couldn’t believe this was actually happening, not after the weeks, they’d had. After all the physical and emotional pain she had been through, this angel of a woman standing in front of her was interested in her. 

Maybe this was her thank you from the universe, she was her gift after all of the turmoil. Not that she felt like she deserved any kind of gift, not when her loved ones were still hurting and she was powerless against their hurt. But even if it was just for today, even if it was just one sandwich with the gorgeous out-of-towner she was willing to let herself revel in her company, however short or long it may be. 

“Y-yeah I would love that.” 

Jo's smile was incandescent as Robin stammered out her words, the warmth of it spreading across her entire body. She was like bottled up sunshine, bright and bold and Robin couldn't pass up an opportunity to soak it all in. 

"Lemme go grab us some food and drinks," Jo said, her voice vibrating with excitement. "And then we can find a spot, okay?" 

With a shy nod from Robin, the blonde bounded off towards the front of the gym where a long table for bagged lunches and hot meals was set up. Robin couldn't help but admire the curve of her jeans, how the fabric of her shirt started to ride up just enough to- 

"So did we seal the deal yet?"

Knocking her elbow on the table as Steve startled her, Robin rubbed the area with annoyance and blew out a quick puff of air. 

"She's getting us....sandwiches," Robin whispered, watching Jordan talk animatedly with a guy handing out bottles of water by the door. 

"Hey! Sandwiches! That's..." Steve said loudly, gesturing with one hand as he looked around. "The best she could do, given the circumstances. But not bad! Good for you." 

"This is crazy," Robin groaned, leaning over the table. Her hands ran through her short hair, leaving her bangs disheveled. "Everyone's gonna find out. I'm going to be hauled through the town square and pummelled with pebbles or something." 

Steve grabbed Robin's shoulder and turned her towards him, amber eyes serious in the afternoon light. 

"Robs, listen up, okay?" he started. "You deserve to be happy just as much as anybody. And if someone isn't okay with something that makes you happy, then they aren't worth our time." 

She couldn't help but smile at the use of ‘our’, still finding it hard to believe the former King of Hawkins High could have become like an extension of herself, a little part of her soul walking around outside her body. There's no one else she would have almost died beside. Twice. 

"Thanks, dingus," she mumbled, embarrassed. Nothing made her squirm like having the attention put on her and Steve was currently shining the world's biggest spotlight. 

"No problem," Steve grinned. "Besides, she's a total babe. I don't blame you.” 

"Oh my god, like, insanely hot!" 

The two were still talking in animated whispers when Jordan reappeared carrying two paper bags and a look of amusement.

"Am I interrupting something?" 

Robin jumped slightly, knocking away Steve’s hands as she turned towards Jordan, plastering the best smile she could, “No–not at all!” Suddenly out of breath and knocked her elbow gently into Steve’s sternum when a chuckle escaped him. 

Jordan grinned, “You ready for our date then?” 

She could feel Steve’s eyes bore into the side of her face as she pressed her lips together in a thin line and hummed with a nod. 

“Well come on,” She held out one of the bags for Robin to take, blowing a small puff of air from her lips to blow the small tendrils of curls away from her face. 

Robin could feel the blush creep up her spine once again as she stood watching Jordan as if it was a slow-motion scene. 

“This is the part where you take the bag and go with the pretty girl…” Steve whispered, leaning into her.

“Thanks, genius,” Robin pushed him away and took the bag. “Can we leave before he embarrasses me anymore?” She begged Jordan. 

“Sorry princess,” Jordan threw her arm around Robin playfully. “Maybe next time I can meet your dorky dungeon lover?” 

Robin tensed, she’d never get that double date. Not with Eddie hiding in Steve’s house from the law. She begged the universe to make the situation normal, where she could just go out with her best friends, hand in hand with a pretty girl 

“He’d like you,” Steve smiled genuinely, but Robin could see the pain in hazel eyes as he put a hand on his hip. “Enjoy your lunch ladies, there’s a picnic bench hidden behind the tennis courts.” 

Shooting Steve a small wave, Robin and Jordan snuck their way out of the gym and out into the fresh air. The bright sun illuminated Jordan’s eyes and brought out the freckles that adorned her cheeks, just the sight of her made Robin’s heart skip a beat as they walked out into the grass together, Jo’s arm still sloppily draped across her shoulders. 

The small pep talk continued in her head, still trying to convince herself that everything would be fine. It didn’t matter what the town thought. All that mattered was the support of her best friend and her own happiness. Exactly as Steve had told her many times. 

Robin took a sharp breath and looked over at Jo, who was already looking at her with her head tilted to the side. Her warm smile set every nerve in her body off as butterflies erupted in her stomach. 

“Sorry, I did it again, didn’t I?” Robin asked with a laugh, gently leaning against the blonde beside her, nudging her playfully. 

Jo shook her head, “it’s okay, I get it. Let’s distract that beautiful brain of yours, k?” she smiled and swiped her tongue along her bottom lip as she thought for a second, “tell me about the coolest thing you’ve ever done.”

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Robin hummed and tried to figure out what she could tell her. The answer she wanted to give was when she and Steve cracked the Russian's secret codes, but that wasn’t exactly a story she could just blurt out. Nor was a story about being in an alternate upside universe. That seemed more like a second date story. 

“Hm, Steve and I helped save some kids during this… mall fire that happened here a couple of years ago, I guess that was kind of cool,” she shrugged, as they sat down at the hidden picnic bench, “this town has had some bad luck the past few years” 

Joe pulled out her sandwich and looked at her with widened eyes. “ Really? Wow, that's really cool. You guys must be some sort of heroes of Hawkins then I assume? “ She took a bite with a lopsided smirk as she chewed. 

Robin took a bite of her sandwich, her throat thickening, and a lump formed in her throat which made it hard for her to swallow. The memories of that night flashed by in her mind, the fear and the exhaustion of thinking of the many ways it could’ve gone terribly wrong. The loss of her newfound family. 

Also that the town had no idea of the people inside the mall and what they were really fighting for. 

The warmth of Joe’s hand on her thigh made her eyes bounce up to hers, erupting butterflies through her whole body. Her eyes were a combination of regret and sorrow. “ I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? “

She shook her head quickly, chuckling because there was no way this beautiful girl could be wrong about anything. She was too perfect for this world. “ No, I’m fine, I just…got lost…again. “

She smiled. “I could see that. But what you did to those kids must mean a lot to them today. You saved lives, Robs. “ 

“We’re actually really good friends today. Well, sometimes it feels like they’re my siblings. Especially on those days when they make you want to pull out your own hair,” Her words welcomed Jo’s adorable and melodic giggle which she couldn’t hold back on her own as they took a bite. 

Silence fell shortly around them and Jo’s eyes were suddenly fixated on Robin’s face. She felt how redness quickly crept upon her cheeks, and she was about to check if she had something on her face, when the blonde’s hand reached towards her. Her hand lingered over her mouth for a second before she rubbed away something sticky from the corner of her mouth with her thumb. Robin’s heart hammered in her chest and it felt like it was about to break free along with her soon to be collapsed lungs. 

Jo drew back her hand and wiped away the mess on her jeans. A playful smirk lingered on her lips. “Sorry, but you’re a messy eater. “ She winked as she sipped on her drink, blonde curls flowing through the wind like the waves of the ocean, calling for Robin to feel the silk between her fingers. 

Robin chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to hold back her smile as Jordan chewed lazily on her sandwich and leaned back against the table to let the sun bathe over her. Robin could count the freckles that trailed down her neck, over the soft ridges of her collarbone. She wanted to paint constellations on her skin with them, she wanted to see how they looked in the moonlight and the early morning sun. 

Jo tilted her head, her glossy green eyes blinking back at Robin who couldn’t help but stare. Hidden away, behind the gymnasium away from the prying eyes and cruel whispers of the town she felt the confidence to do so unashamed creep up her spine. 

“When the sun reflects in your eyes, they look like a lake before the world wakes up,” Jo looked up at her through thick lashes, “unbothered and serene.”

Robin felt the world slow down, she could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage as her lungs stubbornly filled with air and her fingers and toes tingled like they were being held to an open flame. How could someone she knew for so little a time, make her feel so alive?

��Robin?” Jordan pushed up on her hands, straightening her back and sliding closer to her, “I want to kiss you.”

Her lips parted, in any strangled attempt to respond but it was like someone had sucked all the volume out of the world. She wanted to kiss Jordan so badly, it made her chest hot and stomach roll into a thousand little knots. To feel how soft her lips felt on hers, to lick away the jelly taste, and to finally kiss a girl. It’s all Robin wanted. But the words caught in her throat, sticky and stubborn stayed stuck, leaving her stupidly silent in the face of love. 

Jordan leaned in, brushing Robin’s wavy blonde hair back from her cheek before her hand trailed down the gentle curve of her long neck all well bringing them closer together under the bright sun. 

Robin could feel her breath on her lips and the constriction in her chest tugged and pulled her in every direction making it hard to breathe. “I’ve never kissed anyone.” She blurted out, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

A soft smirk crept onto Jordan’s perfect lips as she brushed the tips of their noses together, “I can teach you,” she whispered, brushing her fingertips ever-so softly along the side of Robin’s neck, “if that’s okay, of course” 

Robin sucked in a shaky breath as she looked at the beautiful girl in front of her. Her mind and heart were both screaming at her to say yes, to just lean in and kiss her but she sat frozen, unable to peel her eyes off Jo’s as they sat there. In their own little world. 

After what felt like hours, she finally mustered up the ability to nod slowly, biting the inside of her cheek to stop the smile. She could hear the blood rushing through her ears as she watched the Jordan’s tongue swipe along her bottom lip. 

The moment their lips pressed together, every nerve in Robin’s body ignited with electricity, butterflies taking over her entire chest. She tasted of strawberry jam and peanut butter, their lips moving together in perfect harmony. 

In a moment of confidence, Robin’s hand landed on Jo’s thigh as her other went up to cup her cheek, pressing deeper into the kiss. Jo’s lips were softer than she could have ever imagined, and though she didn’t have much to compare it to, it was the best first kiss she’d ever experienced. 

As the two pulled back, Jo rested their foreheads together, her pink kiss-bitten bottom lip finding a home between her teeth as the two girls caught their breath. 

“You know, for having never kissed someone before,” the blonde breathed, rubbing the tip of her nose against Robin’s, “you’re pretty good at it” she teased playfully, pressing another quick kiss to the brunette’s lips. 

“I had a really good teacher,” Robin cooed, pressing her lips to the corner of Jo’s mouth as she pulled away. 

“You’ve really never kissed anyone?” Jordan’s eyes flickered over her face, tracing her flushed skin and kiss swollen lips. 

“That was my first,” Robin swallowed, her hand sliding down her cheek and thumb resting on Jo’s bottom lip. “I didn’t expect it to be so soft,” she whispered, tempted to lean in for more. 

“Oh darling, it won’t always be,” Jo nibbled on her thumb, “I had to be nice the first time.” 

Robin could feel the warmth explode in the pit of her stomach, imagining every single thing she could learn from Jordan. 

“We can save that for the second date,” Robin giggled, feeling lighter than she had in days. 

“And the third,” Jordan pressed her lips to Robin’s again. “And the fourth,” she kissed her cheek and jaw. Peppering her skin with soft lips as Robin leaned closer into her lap without hesitation. 

“We probably should do them all at once,” Robin laughed, feeling Jo’s hands press to her hips, her fingers curling against the fabric. 

“You’re probably right,” Jo giggled, brushing her nose against the skin of Robin’s neck. “But it was worth a shot,” she clicked her tongue against her teeth. 

“What about tonight?” Robin asked, she and Steven were supposed to sit at home watching movies but she was sure he wouldn’t mind if she invited Jordan. 

“Look at you angel, confidence shining brighter than a star,” Jordan’s smile melted every ounce of willpower Robin had. “And all it took was a kiss,” she winked. 

“It was you,” Robin stopped her. “I haven’t felt like myself in a long time—” 

“She was there all along,” Jordan sat up proudly, her beautiful curly hair blowing in the wind. “You just needed some help finding her. Will you tell me why you were actually hiding her? Cause I know it wasn’t that story about the mall fire. Everyone can see there’s something going on in Hawkins.”

Robin’s confidence rushed from her like a tidal wave leaving behind the sinking feeling that she was doing something wrong. With a simple blink, the picnic table seemed to be in the middle of the gymnasium again, the face of sad and injured people staring at her, confused and hurt by her happiness. 

“A lot has happened in the last few weeks,” Robin whispered, barely able to explain herself.  

She felt Jordan’s soft fingers intertwine with her own and give her hand a small squeeze. Her gaze staying fallen on the grass that surrounded them, Robin knew that if she looked at the girl beside her, she would lose it. A side of herself that only Steve had witnessed. 

Swallowing a thick lump that had formed in her throat, she chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to figure out how to start the story without sounding insane. There was a reason the gang had kept this all to themselves. If they even tried to explain what was happening they would all get locked up or worse. The weight of their little town sat on the shoulders of kids and no one knew. Her chest squeezed together and she shook her head, bouncing her leg anxiously. 

“Hey, take your time - I’m right here,” Jordan reached over and tucked a piece of Robin’s hair behind her ear. Her other hand stayed locked with hers, bringing a small amount of comfort as she tried to get the words out. 

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” Robin admitted.

Jo shook her head and gave her hand another squeeze, “Never, and you don’t have to fully tell me if you don’t want to, whatever you’re comfortable with” 

“No, I - I want to tell you, it’s just that - it sounds insane. I know it sounds insane, it’s hard to put into words that make sense,” Robin’s breathing picked up quickly as anxiety washed through her, thinking about everything. Even just focusing on the last few weeks was a lot for her brain to process. 

“There’s this… place that we call the upside down - it’s basically alternate dimension Hawkins, and there are things that live there, that have been escaping into this Hawkins for the past few years, and basically the whole situation came to a head a few weeks ago when this guy who’s name use to be Henry and then he was a kid who was experimented on and his name was One, but the kids our group also calls him Vecna after this bad guy in Dungeons and Dragons… anyway the whole thing kind of turned sideways and in trying to save the town we kind of caused this all to happen and we lost -” a lump caught in her throat as a sob escaped her. Robin shook her head once, “we lost a couple of people…” 

Jordan sat there listening, holding onto Robin’s hand with one of hers while her free arm draped around her shoulders, the tips of her fingers running gently over her skin trying to calm down the heat that was rising. 

Letting out a soft sigh, Robin chewed on her bottom lip, still unable to look over and meet the eyes of the first person she’d told this to outside of their group, “if we had been a little quicker, a little bit more planned, none of this would have happened…” she cleared her throat, and went to take her hand away from Jordan, “I’ll understand if you want to turn and run as far away from me as you can get…” 

“Hey,” Jo stood up, trapping Robin on the bench with her arms on either side of her body. She kissed her slowly, taking her time, convincing her with nothing but her touch that she wasn’t going anywhere. “How dare you think I’d spook that easily,” she whispered, brushing her nose against Robin’s teary cheek. “Thank you for telling me,” she said next as if Robin had just told her something wonderful and life-changing not a tragic story of death and loss. “Do you want to know what I think?” 

Robin nodded, unable to form the words. 

“I think that Hawkin’s is still standing, that whatever you guys did down there in…” she trailed off. 

“The upside down,” Robin helped her. 

“Yeah, whatever you guys did down there, prevented more people from dying. There are kids, moms, dads, uncles, and aunts. There are grandparents and pets in that gym, and they’re there because you guys did something to stop it. You’re a bunch of high schoolers Robin,” Jordan wrapped her hands around her face, “I think you’re brave and courageous with so much more strength than you give yourself credit for. I’ve known you for two hours and I can say with the utmost confidence that you are the most beautiful intelligent woman I have ever met. If I turned tail and ran now, I’d miss out on so much. The way your nose gets red when you’re nervous and the soft gravelly giggle you make when you think you said something embarrassing. I’d never get to count every single freckle on your face or kiss you again,” Jo shrugged, stealing a kiss before she could argue. “The only thing about that entire story that sounded insane was me running away from you.”

Robin’s eyes welled up, looking up to finally meet Jo’s and pulling her lips into a thin line. A wave of relief washed over her and took the place of the anxiety and for just a moment, the whole world around them stilled and faded away. 

It was definitely not the response she had been expecting, Robin hoped that she wouldn’t scare away the first girl who’d been able to pull her out of her shell and make her feel safe in such a short amount of time, but given everything that had been happening, it would just be another thing. Most days Robin still woke up screaming for Steve as the familiar feeling of the vein tightened around her neck. 

“We just should have done more… we shouldn’t have left them alone,” Robin cleared her throat and placed her hands on Jordan’s forearms, “it was bad Jo, seeing the kids going through that, I-” 

“Robs, this wasn’t your fault. I know I don’t know everything about what happened, but I do know this wasn’t your fault,” Jordan reassured, swiping her thumb across Robin’s cheek to catch a fallen tear, “I will tell you that as many times as you need. I am right here, and I know that you and your friends did everything you could” 

“Hearing it helps but I don’t think this sinking feeling will ever go away permanently,” Robin shrugged and pressed her face against Jo’s hand. 

“You shouldn’t have to carry it alone,” she said. “And if you’ll let me, I’d like to help.” 

Robin tangled her hands into the curls around Jordan’s face, letting the silky strands run over her fingers. The sun basking across her face, made the green in her eyes dance like the iris was alive, and in a tight, breathless moment that look gave Robin her hope back. 

The hope that Steve so desperately held on to for her, that he never gave up on, for her. 

It was there, smiling back at her in the form of a living angel. 

“Kiss me,” Robin blurted out, keeping her eyes locked with Jo’s, “please” 

Without another word, Jordan dipped her head slotting her mouth against Robins in a deep kiss. Taking in every bit of sadness and despair, and replacing it with a warm fuzzy feeling that made her want to cry, and scream all at once. 

Her hands remained tangled in Jordan’s long blonde curls as she stood up and pulled her body as close to hers as she could. The need to feel every part of her taking over completely. While the sun shone brightly over the two of them, Robin felt as though she had her own perfect ray of sunshine, right there in her arms. Her own personal feeling of hope for even the darkest days. The pain and anger and sadness she’d been feeling every day for the last 3 weeks slipped away just by being in this beautiful girl's presence. 

Jordan pulled back, tugging on her lip gently as she went, “you owe me a second date,” she teased. 

“Do you like really bad comedy movies?” Robin asked. Hoping that Steve wouldn’t mind if they crashed movie night. 

“How did you know those are my favorite,” Jordan laughed.

“You look like a girl who loves a badly timed joke,” Robin kissed her again. “Thank you,” she whispered, pulling away breathlessly. 

“For what?” Jordan’s brows knitted together. 

Robin shrugged. “For reminding me what the sun looked like.”

[forfuckssakejim]

I posted 692 times in 2022

221 posts created (32%)

471 posts reblogged (68%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@forfuckssakejim

@haberdashing

@funnytwittertweets

@andthentheywilleatthestars

@mahalidael

I tagged 294 of my posts in 2022

#ask - 102 posts

#anon - 94 posts

#shut up jim - 88 posts

#original - 28 posts

#star trek - 13 posts

#encanto - 12 posts

#st - 12 posts

#my fic - 10 posts

#i love this - 7 posts

#spirk - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#our hoarder resident passed and his family wants really nothing to do with his junk but it’s really a treasure trove of items that we’re get

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Dream light valley is all fun and games until you accidentally have sexual tension with fucking goofy.

57 notes - Posted September 16, 2022

#4

See the full post

58 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

#3

so uh, apparently i've been obsessing once more over merthur lately and I was just struck how they were always like "we were doing poetry." that I actually woke up in a sweat last night and wrote a poem for merthur like?????

58 notes - Posted October 13, 2022

#2

Crack theory: mirabel was born on Feb 29 so she was technically only one 1 on her 5th birthday and the door was like “wait this is a baby.”

So what I’m saying is the door appears again on her 20th birthday.

72 notes - Posted January 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Yeah quiet quitting is great and all but have you tried chaotic working?

Like. I remember back in my grocery store cashier days I did so much crazy shit.

When WIC (Women, infants, and children voucher program to help low income mothers/families with children) people were in my line I would pretty much know who they were. Before the cards they had to tell us upfront they were WIC and show us their vouchers for what they were allowed to get (it was awful some times. Like. 2 gallons of milk. $4 worth of vegetables etc etc). They’d always have items hanging back, waiting to see what the total was and if they would have to take it off the belt.

I began to place the fruits/vegetables a certain way on the register scale so that like 1/2lbs of grapes read as like .28lbs or something. Then act shocked when I said that they still had X amount of lbs left. They got all their fruit and vegetables.

I think it started to kinda? Catch on to the women? Because I would have the same moms in my line month after month. And even after they switched to the cards (they worked like food stamp cards?) I’d still do the same thing. They were able to get more produce for whatever shitty max amount Indiana gave them.

Anyways. Be chaotic. It’s more fun that way.

116,404 notes - Posted November 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[opossumthrifting]

INAUGURAL THRIFT HAUL!

hello and welcome to the first installment of my thrifting adventures here on tumblr. I don’t get clothes that much, and when i do they’re almost always 80/90s grandma/elementary school teacher vests and sweaters.

i usually get cards, knick knacks, trinkets, toys/plushies, craft stuff, and media (VHS, cassettes, and books are what i seek out the most, but dvds, cds, etc are cool too)

so welcome to my first post of many. i won’t do just hauls, next will probably be my VHS, DVD, Cassette, or CD collection (i am a heavy advocate for physical media), but this blog is called opossumthrifting, so ya! lets get on with it!

ESTATE SALE (09/26)

pictured above is 3 ceramic skeleton keys (non-functional) [$1 all], a VHS boxset of the original star wars films in great condition [$10], and an x files 1998 calendar that i mistook for a vinyl </3 [$1]

(the back of said calander)

an entirely mechanical novelty pendulum clock from the 1960s! i only got it for $1 because the nice people running the estate sale thought it didn’t work, but it does! below is a video of it :]

GARAGE SALE 1 (09/27)

in a small town 20 minutes away (that i frequent for a really good thriftstore there, its basically the only one i go to regularly), they were having a townwide garage sales! its nearing the end of yardsale/garage sale season, so i decided to pop in and found some goodies!

pictured above is a Craft Bazaar edition (i have a halloween and a ‘mega’ edition, so i guess i have a collection now!) [.25], a cookbook for my best friend, its not all gingerbread but it sure is all baking! [.25], a random cookbook that was in fantastic condition, so i’m gonna try and learn some of them! [.25], and a precious moments “tender tails” turkey! [$1]

the people there were really sweet, there was a man who was putting stuff out/straightening things up and he called me kiddo, and there a woman who was sitting at the cash table(??) and called me hon :}}

GARAGE SALE 2 (09/27)

next stop! this was listed on the towns website for the event, it had vintage hallmark pins listed (which i collect)! they were a tad expensive, and the ladies were so sweet i felt bad haggling :[ so i didn’t, they had a lot but i only got a st. patty’s day mouse [$10] (i don’t have a st pattys pin yet), then i got the rescuers book (with special edition cover for the ‘brand new’ motion picture!) [$1], a set of ribbon [it was tagged as $2 but i think she might’ve put it down to a $1 because of my total), two ET chapter books [$1 each]

…and a little surprise in the reflective cover ET book! this definitely was a kids favorite once upon a time, and i’m honored to have it in my possession now (and the cutie little bookmark!)

disney’s alice in wonderland picturebook from 1975! there are some pencil/graphite scribbles by the one and only Lisa (who’s name is scrawled on the front page), but i don’t mind! [$1]

last but definitely not least, papa turkey to match the baby turkey i got at the other sale! he wishes to protect his baby, so he proclaims “EAT HAM” with his clever little sign! [$3]

I had chatted with the two women running this particular sale for a bit, and apparently they’d been elementary school teachers in the 80s (from what i could gather)! they’d switch out the pins for each holiday, put the papa turkey near the entrance to their classroom, and the books probably belonged to a small classroom library! there was also a carrying case FILLED with 1980s MLPs, including a flocked one in AMAZING condition, but it was $50 for all and she wasn’t willing to split D: i hope they all find a nice home together though :]

GARAGE SALE 3 (09/27)

only got one thing here- this 1984 (or '83, can't remember for sure) Tonka 63 piece jigsaw puzzle featuring Pound Puppies! the lady there was really nice, i asked if she knew if all the pieces were there, she said no but counted them up for me :] they're all there!

QUICK THRIFT-STORE STOP (09/27)

alas, this post comes to a close with the thrift store that was my gateway into the various activities in the town; it's come to the point where some people think i go to the local highschool (whoops), but here we go! my dad (who was driving) had to go to the bathroom, so we stopped by and i rifled through some things for a bit. I'd already been there wednesday (today being friday), but I saw the basket of plushies was much fuller.

a majority of them were knock-off catholic beanie babies (so many that i started saying "holy copyright infringement batman!), but i still found some good stuff!

i collect vintage greeting cards! i have a few artists/series i collect in specific (bunnies by the bay, suzy's zoo, precious moments, and russ cards to name a few), but i didn't rifle through the CARD TOWER (trademark pending) as much as i usually do, but i pulled out a couple cuties! three teddy bear cards, and an embossed flower card by hallmark (of which i forgot what flower it is...)!

above is (from top to bottom and left to right), a beanie boo backpack clip for my best friends sister, a Snowden (and friends) mouse, a little pink bear with no tag and a detatched mini thread spool (which i will soon sew back on), two Aurora roosters (i couldn't separate them D: that would just be cruel), and three state beanie babies (i heart mississipi, lousiana, and alabama bears) for my mother!

not picture is a really cool old, compact jewelry box called THE JEWEL KIT (all rights reserved), it's black and unfolds out. it can't be that practical, but it's neat! the pictures were too beefy for tumblr though D:

[russic]

Daisuke Kambe Husband Headcanons

Warning: 18+ Under Cut 

Request: Hello! Can I please request Daisuke Kambe husband headcannons? Exactly like the boyfriend ones, but husband edition. Thank you so much in advance!  ♡ Requested by @aya-daydreams - I hope you love it!  ♡

        Other requests can be deposited here. Please refer to my character list before requesting! If you wish to be tagged, do not request anonymously. Only two more requests will be accepted before the opportunity closes. 

        Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you for supporting my work. I’m flattered that you love my pieces and continue to request new material. ♡

SFW

You’re one lucky gal, Daisuke Kambe’s wanted to marry YOU. (Spare some change for the poor (me)?)

Let’s address the obvious: You have a shared bank account.

You get E V E R Y T H I N G you want. 

You want a Louis Vuitton purse? You got it. 

You’re determined to purchase new Christian Louboutin heels? Do it; you have the money. 

Gucci Belt? You already have three. 

Question: Did you ever meet someone who does the sexiest things... but indirectly? Thats Daisuke. 

When Daisuke is concentrating on his intense stack of paperwork, he bites his bottom lip. 

Daisuke undoes his tie with one finger (right pointer finger) when he arrives home from work. 

When he’s hot (all the time), he rolls up the sleeves of his black button down. 

Puts on his Rolex watch without look. He looks directly in your eyes. Its second nature. 

Closes the button of his blazer with two hands. 

If Daisuke performs any of these actions, you find yourself melting where you’re standing. You cannot believe this man is this attractive. He steals your breath away. 

EVERYONE  R E S P E C T S  YOU

When you walk into Daisuke’s company, everyone is at your service because you’re “Y/N Kambe, the boss’s wife.” If you ask for something, you receive it within seconds.

Sure, Daisuke’s is a great husband - but please drive. For the love of God, please DRIVE. 

Owns the most BEAUTIFUL apartment in New York City. 

Daisuke has a HEART of GOLD:

Has a “soft spot” for children: He’s constantly donating towards foundations like Make a Wish, The Sunshine Kids, St. Jude’s, Ronald McDonald House, and Childcare Aware at least five times a year. 

Donates under “Anonymous.”

When you’re riding on public transportation or standing in an elevator, and it starts becoming too crowded; Daisuke will give up his spot for older men, women, and children. 

Despite assuming the role of the richest and kindest man in the world, Daisuke has social anxiety. He grows nervous and begins shaking when he is meeting any of your new friends. Overtime, your important loved ones will grow close to him, but expect to see Daisuke shaking in his boots if he’s meeting someone important to you. Since you’re married, he’s close to your family now; but he was a nervous wreck. 

LOVES making you breakfast in the morning with his $1,000.000 waffle maker. 

He always makes a HUGE mess because he makes his own homemade batter (Yes, Daisuke cooks. He doesn’t hire people to cook).   

Nearly E V E R Y D A Y Daisuke wakes up early in the morning to assure your penthouse is spotless. He doesn’t like you acting as a “maid.” (He hires people three times a month to deep clean).

“You’re my wife, not my maid. No woman should be forced to clean because of poor societal standards.” 

When Daisuke gets frustrated, his eyebrow furrow. 

He cannot stand grocery shopping by himself. He gets confused by the littlest things. 

When Daisuke can’t figure something out... 

When people disrespect you, you’ll see him get angry.

Daisuke’s weakness is when you’ll tie his black tie in the morning before he leaves for work. 

After making sure it the expensive fabric lays perfectly on his chest, you’ll stand on your tip toes to kiss him on the lips. 

“Have a good day at work, baby.” 

Make Daisuke’s lunch, write him “love notes,” and slip them inside of his lunchbox. 

Every time Daisuke comes home, you’ll notice your notes aren’t in his lunchbox. 

One night you were rummaging through his bedside drawer when you noticed a large black velvet box. When you opened it, your eyes began growing soaked with tears; within the box was EVERY NOTE you ever wrote to him. 

NEVER NOT WEARING his black WEDDING RING engraved with your name. 

If a woman approaches him, he politely showcases his wedding ring saying, “My apologies, I have a wife.” 

Here’s a shocker: Daisuke H A T E S receiving expensive gifts. 

Daisuke can buy anything. He’s tired of receiving expensive gifts, but you’re the ONLY person who knows. Instead, you’ll purchase him ten-to-thirty-dollar gifts that remind you of him. 

Daisuke’s cheeks will begin to blush looks at the tiny gift you purchased him. As you begin explaining its significance, you’ll notice tears begin pooling into his eyes. 

HUGE pictures from your wedding day are scattered throughout the penthouse. 

Your wedding song was Perfect by Ed Sheeran. Without the lyrics. 

There was a reason behind his madness: On wedding day, during your first dance, you placed your head on Daisuke’s shoulder and sang the lyrics to him. 

U.N.I.T.E.D.  F.R.O.N.T - You’ll never stand alone.

ADORES your intelligence. Daisuke fell in love with you, your personality, appearance, and especially your intelligence. 

Throughout Daisuke’s entire life, women act brainless and submissive, but not you. He loves your smart mind and independent nature. 

Still CHECKS YOU OUT all the time. 

Especially when you’re wearing business attire paired with a lingerie top or simple silk dresses. 

Match him. He will start drooling. 

MESMERIZED when you take your hair out of a ponytail or claw clip. He LOVES watching your hair cascade down your back. 

Daisuke NEEDS to be connected to you in public. He latches onto your hand lacing your fingers together, gently touches your waist, or places a hand on your thigh. However, his public displays of affection WILL NOT go further. He’s a classy man. 

O B S E S S E D  with  K I S S I N G  YOUR LIPS. 

When you’re speaking to Daisuke, you’ll notice he’s staring at your lips imaging how soft they are. 

You do not fight often, but it does occur. Especially when he puts himself in dangerous situations. 

Due to a near-death experience, you grew frustrated and (unannounced) left your home to find a hotel room. Immediately, Daisuke tracked your location. 

Within two hours, he knocked on the door. You saw your husband clutching a bundle of flowers and chocolates. With tears streaming down his face. 

“Please, don’t ever leave. I’m so sorry - I’ll never do it again. Just don’t leave me. I NEED you.” 

Plans the most P E R F E C T dates. 

During winter, Daisuke plans to stroll around New York City to see the Christmas lights. 

In the spring, he takes you to your favorite Whinery. 

In summer, Daisuke privately rents fancy manors hoping spend a few private nights in with you. 

During fall, you two curl up into a cozy blanket and light scented candles to watch your favorite horror films. 

To surprise Daisuke, you often order tickets to see various orchestras across the country. He becomes enchanted by the sound of violin and piano music. However, his jaw drops during orchestra concerts.

 IF YOU HAVE CHILDREN: 

They are S.P.O.I.L.E.D.  R.O.T.T.E.N.

The most popular kid at school because you two are the parents. 

When they are little, they LOVE holding onto Daisuke’s pinky finger as you’re walking. 

If your child must attend any sports games or music recitals, you two are always present. Daisuke is the dad constantly taking photos of your child. 

Daisuke LOVES watching you rock your baby as you’re singing to them. 

LOVES traveling around the world with you. 

If you’re working on your laptop, Daisuke slowly comes up behind you. He kisses your cheek and slowly moves down your neck to your sweet spot. (Yes, he memorized where it is). 

You’ll have sweet make-out sessions in the kitchen when you’re cooking together. 

Gotta keep that spice in your life. 

You’ll always claim, “I’m the happiest person in the world.” However, Daisuke denies your statement. No one can be happier than him. After years of being married, Daisuke still cannot grasp how lucky he is to have you. 

“I love you with all my heart and soul, beautiful.” 

NSFW 

Despite being a sweet and loving husband, Daisuke will become a M.E.N.A.C.E in the bedroom. 

Before you both start undressing, Daisuke pulls his black gloves off with his teeth. 

Wear R.E.D. LIPSTICK

Daisuke LOVES ruining your red lipstick. Watching it smear across your (and his) lips as you engage in a heated make-out session, turns him on. 

Often drags his thumb across your bottom lip to smear a line of red lipstick to your breasts. When you look down, you’ll notice a stained line where his thumb traveled down your body. 

ADORES when you wear black lingerie. 

Once, you matched some lingerie with Daisuke’s oversized blazer by draping his attire across your shoulders... You were nearly unable to walk that morning. 

Seeing you wearing black lingerie accompanied with HIS professional blazer corrupted his mind and stained his pants. 

Many individuals believe Daisuke would degrade his significant other within the bedroom, but I’m not buying it. You will feel loved and be praised as Daisuke’s wife. 

“So goddamn stunning, baby.” 

“You like that don’t you, Angel?” 

“Baby, you’re so wet. You’re such a good girl.” 

KISS HIS NECK - (Take Nike’s advice and) Just do it. 

Takes his time worshipping your breasts. (He’s definitely a boob guy.)

If you’re arriving home from an important event/meeting in a gorgeous silk dress, don’t expect to be ignored. 

Within seconds of closing the door, Daisuke pushes you to the wall and starts running his fingers over your nipples as he thrusts his tongue in your mouth. 

If you enjoy walking around your home half-naked, (at any time) Daisuke can bend you over a hard surface, slowly push your underwear aside, and bury three fingers inside of your cunt. 

“You can’t walk around half-naked if you don’t expect to be fucked, baby.” 

LOVES seductively staring into your eyes and biting your bottom lip as he’s fingering your pussy. He enjoys the feeling of your walls clutching his fingers. 

O.I.L.  M.E.S.S.A.G.E.S. - Daisuke LOVES messaging your naked body with oil. 

Enjoys fondling your breasts and running his fingers over your sensitive nipples. 

When you’re lying on your stomach, Daisuke spends MINUTES rubbing and squeezing your ass. 

Soon enough, Daisuke spreads your ass cheeks and buries his tongue inside of your lubed pussy. The sound of his oily hands traveling along your body as he’s eating your pussy is his own paradise. 

Doesn’t mind paying for your nails because he imagines the sight of your pretty nails jerking off his cock. 

Drapes his arms across the back of the couch as you slowly drop to your knees. 

Daisuke intensely watches your every move as you’ve settled between his legs. Looking into his eyes, you’ll pull down his zipper with your teeth to remove his cock from his pants. 

Licking up the length his cock, Daisuke throws his head back in utter disbelief. 

“Fuck, baby. Please do that again.” 

Melts in his seat if you start sucking his balls. You’ll notice Daisuke’s legs start twitching within seconds of running your tongue along his genitals. 

Daisuke isn’t a lover willing to share your body, but he CANNOT ERASE the image of you having another women’s head buried between your legs as he watches. (He hasn’t told you this, yet). 

However, no men. He’s the only man that can pleasure your body. 

Wake Daisuke up by placing your soaked pussy on his stomach. When he’s awakened by you rubbing your pussy across his abs, he cannot help but grab onto your hips and increase the friction. 

“Baby, you could have woken me up with a good morning. Now I see you’re only using me to cum. Here I thought you were a little angel, princess.” 

“Yes, DADDY.”

Opposite of “Yes, daddy...  but PASSIONATE LOVER 

C.O.C.K.W.A.R.M.I.N.G. 

You feel complete once Daisuke finally buries himself inside of your pussy. He refuses to move as you’re locking lips muttering how much you’re in love with each other. 

“Daisuke, please move.” 

“Not yet, baby. Let me stay inside of you.” 

Expect MORNING SEX. The morning is the perfect time to slowly fuck your tight pussy because he’s hard and warm. 

Daisuke’s favorite sex position is a classic: MISSIONARY. 

According to Daisuke, missionary is a perfect position to look into your eyes, kiss your lips, suck on your neck, and watch his cock disappear into your pussy. (It’s the best). 

SEX in the WATER

In the hot tub, Daisuke gently pulls your breasts out from your small bathing suit to suck on your nipples as you ride his cock. Chasing your orgasm, the sound of water splashing sounding like waves of the ocean.

Remember how obsessed Daisuke is with your hair? Well, he loves pounding into your pussy from behind to watch your hair drape down your back moving with every thrust. 

I almost forgot, if Daisuke is fucking you from behind and you have back dimples, he buries his thumbs into them and forces your ass back on his cock. 

LOVES OBSESSED with SEX TOYS. 

Buys a new one each week. 

Surprise... Daisuke presses a vibrator to your sensitive clit as he’s pounding inside of you. 

Eases a diamond butt plug into your ass. 

Daisuke will cum anywhere. Inside of your body - on your body - who knows? 

Mostly spills him load onto your stomach or ass. 

If Daisuke cums inside your pussy, he gathers the load with his fingers and brings them up to your lips. 

“Open wide, baby.” 

“I know you love the taste of our cum together.” 

The aftercare is S.T.U.N.N.I.N.G. 

Following an intense love-making session, Daisuke draws a bath for the two of you. You’ll lay between his legs as he messages and cleans your body. 

“You can still walk, right, love?” 

Honestly, I don’t think you can. 

THANK YOU FOR READING - BEFORE YOU LEAVE... 

I wish to apologize for my lack of posts. I try to create a requested headcanon two times a week, but it seemed impossible this week. As many of you know, I am a senior in college. This week has been hectic in regard to my major. 

Thank you for your patience.  ♡ 

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Mo Shíorghrá - Chapter Three.

Big thanks to all who are commenting and reblogging, so thrilled you’re enjoying it! Another nice, long chapter here for you now :) 

Previous chapters - One  Two

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Words - 6.704

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

“Nah, I have tae say it, pregnant women are wild, horny creatures. I had to fuck her twice this morning before she’d let me leave,” Chibs spoke, the guys pulled over at the side of the highway while Juice sorted an issue with his bike.

“Really? Man, I gotta get me some single mom action,” Happy stated, grinning through the chew on his toothpick.  

“Since when have you given a shit if they’re single or not?” Jax contributed, laughing.

Happy shrugged. “Single is less hassle, bro.” He then turned back to Chibs. “Any downsides?”

“Yeah, the fact they get the most amazing, swollen tits, and you cannae go near ‘em because they’re sore. All I want to do is honk on ‘em like a couple o’ ripe melons and she won’t fucking let me! Oh, and don’t be around if the lass in question gets wind. I swear, the farts are biblical. Abi’s are like something out of the Old Testament right now.”

His brothers were in fits at that, Jax looking particularly entertained. “I’m so telling her you said that.”

“You’ll keep that well under your lid, Jackie boy!” With Juice calling that he was ready, they continued their ride out to the meet with Romeo and his cohorts, the open road peaceful, the afternoon beautifully sunny. Unbeknownst to either Chibs or Tig, their phones didn’t stop ringing for the entire half hour ride.  

“Jeez, what did I do? I got fifteen missed calls from the woman,” the latter spoke with slight trepidation as they dismounted, quickly calling her while they waited for the Mexicans to arrive with them. Chibs didn’t notice the colour drain from his face as he lit a cigarette, but his ears picked up on the reaction to what Tig was told.  

“Oh god, no, oh... yeah, okay we’re on our way. Don’t panic, baby, we’re coming now.” When he looked over at him, he knew it was bad. “Chibs, we gotta get out of here, brother.” At hearing those words, his body stiffened considerably, something spiny licking the pit of his stomach.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Clay asked.  

Tig immediately turned to Chibs. “It’s Abi. Venus was crying too much to give me details, but there’s been an accident, something about a car. We gotta get to St Thomas, now.” At hearing that, Chibs felt his blood run to ice, a feeling of dread like no other flooding him, cursing over and over as he shoved his helmet back on.  

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Clay exclaimed. “Get out of here, both of you. We’ll be with you later, go.” Chibs already had his bike started up again before Clay had even finished speaking. They roared off down the highway, Chibs feeling like his heart was trying to escape his chest, panic bouncing through his veins. He had no idea what to expect from Tig’s vague explanation, but he hoped that Venus’ penchant for the dramatic at times could perhaps mean she’d just rear ended another car or something, hoping for the best.  

He was not prepared for what awaited them.  

“Baby? Oh shit, baby,” Tig spoke, rushing to Venus when they arrived at the hospital, his girlfriend covered in blood as she sat in the waiting area. “Are you okay, are you hurt?” It was a stupid question, he realised as soon as he’d spoken it, for if she was, she wouldn’t be out there.  

“I’m fine, I am. It isn’t my blood.” Chibs felt something cold stab him in the chest at hearing that, taking a seat at her side, Tig crouched in front of her, holding her hand, his other curled around the back of her head, stroking her hair fondly as she sobbed. “It was a hit and run, I wasn’t even with her when it happened. She’d gone to the store across the street, and I’d literally only just stepped foot within the little glass wear emporium when I heard the commotion of a speeding car, and I turned, and it... it hit her.”  

She broke down at that point, Tig pulling her into his arms, Chibs feeling breathless as his chest tightened, his jaw clenching with anger. Someone had run down his wife. His wife. She emerged, continuing. “They have her in surgery currently, which is as much as I know.” After visiting the desk, it was as much as the nurse behind it knew either, crashing back down into the seat beside Venus, feeling Tig move to hug him. “My boys... what if... fuck.” He could barely get his words out.  

“Shh, bro. We don’t know anything yet. Just try to keep calm. I know, it’s fucking tearing you up inside, man, but you gotta keep strong. For them and Abi. I’m here, I ain’t going nowhere.” The support of Tig holding him and Venus clutching his hand in both of hers kept him from feeling like he was about to explode, the not knowing still killing him, but thankful for his friends. It felt like forever as he sat there, his entire body prickling unpleasantly, until he saw Tara move into his line of vision, rushing out of his seat to her.  

“How is she? And the babies?”  

“Considering what happened, better than I think anyone could have expected. We’ve had a tense few hours, the babies were delivered via emergency c-section and are currently incubated. Of course, being that they’re only a few days into their twenty-seventh week, it isn’t ideal at all, they both have underdeveloped lungs and weigh just two pounds, six and seven ounces each respectively, but miraculously, they weren’t injured by the accident. Ideally, we would have kept them in utero, but Abi suffered a placental haemorrhage, so it just wasn’t possible, unfortunately. They’re doing as well as can be expected, and the next forty-eight hours remain critical for them because of their size.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathed shakily. “How the fuck are they gonna survive, being so small?”

“More and more premature babies are surviving early births these days, and you know from Abel that we have one of the most well equipped neo-natal units on the west coast to deal with such. I’m invested in this, of course I am, and I’ll do everything I can for your sons. You have my word.” She squeezed his shoulders supportively before continuing.  

“As for Abi, she suffered a shattered hip, which we’ve had to replace, four broken ribs, internal bleeding, a punctured lung, a broken collarbone and a subdural haematoma, as well as a hairline fracture to her skull. The surgeons are still working on her right now. She crashed once, but they brought her back. She’s tough, Chibs, we all know that, and she’s fighting in there. I want you to hold onto that. She isn’t out of the woods yet, but they’re doing everything they can.” She had no idea what else to say, her own professional demeanour slipping a little, because it was so close for her. That was her friend in there.  

Chibs knew that only too well, pulling her into a hug she gratefully accepted. “Can I see my babies?”

“They’re being stabilised at the moment, but I’ll come and fetch you as soon as you can. I’m heading back there now.”

He nodded, feeling like he was crumbling within. “Okay, darlin’.” He sat back down again with a heavy thump, resting his head in his hands, the shock of it all hitting him at once, staring blankly.  

“You wanna come out for a smoke, brother?” Tig asked, feeling useless beyond that in light of what they’d just heard, shaking his head as Abi’s injury list replayed in his head. She could have died. Perhaps a person of lesser strength would have.  

“I... I don’t know.”

“I will race to you immediately if there’s any news,” Venus vouched, giving his thigh a supportive squeeze.  

“Aye, alright. Thanks, hen. And thanks for being with her, and waiting here. I appreciate you more than you could ever know for that.” He gave her a hug then, Venus nodding and smiling in acknowledgement. He got up, his legs feeling light, the rest of him heavy, his head and heart feeling like someone had constricted them in the savage binding of barbed wire. She had to be okay. They had to be okay. All three of them. That was his little family in there, all fighting for their lives.  

He felt sick with nerves, the fresh air cooling down the hot tingling he’d been feeling, the nicotine hitting his lungs a little soothing, but not by much, voicing his fears to Tig.

“I can even imagine how you feel, man, but don’t let your head go to a dark place. You gotta keep positive, because god, or whatever higher power we have ruling over us, they wouldn’t have put Abi back in your life just for this to happen. No way.”  

Chibs didn’t reply, staring at a fixed point ahead of him again, Tig not pressing him for an answer, merely sitting beside him, letting him be silent if that was what he needed. Not even the distant roar of bike engines roused him from the catatonic state he’d slipped into, his hearing fading to a quiet, droning buzz, reality slipping away as fear completely paralysed him.  

What if they died?  

He was aware of his brothers arriving, but the daze held him fast, able only to lift the cigarette to his lips, hearing Tig’s voice explaining what was going on, a large hand gripping his shoulder.  

“Hey, bro.” Jackie. “You alright? Dumb question, I know. I gotta ask, though.”  

“No,” he whispered, his eyes vacant at he looked up, Jax taking a seat beside him.  

“Is there anything we can do, Chibs?” Clay asked with concern. “Want me to go fetch the dogs and take ‘em back to mine? I take it you ain’t gonna be home any time soon.”

“Could you? They’ll be climbing the fucking walls.”  

Clay shook his head. “You’ll have a fight, getting ‘em back from Gemma again. Give me your keys and I’ll get over there. Is there anything else you need?”  

He shook his head dumbly, retrieving his house keys from his pocket and handing them over, Clay gripping his arm supportively before he went back to his bike and rode off.  

“Did they catch the insane asshole who did this?” Opie asked, Chibs shaking his head.

“I’ve no idea, I did’nae even think to ask that.”  

Tig piped up then. “I asked Venus while you were talking to Tara. The police took her statement but all she could tell them was that the vehicle was an early model black sedan. I don’t know if anyone else who witnessed it got a look at the driver, or the license plate.”  

“Wait, they didn’t even stop?” Jax asked, bewilderment meeting anger.

“Nope, drove straight off again. Venus was more preoccupied with getting to Abi by that point, though, but she said no one came forward in the wake of it.”  

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Jax exclaimed, wondering what kind of person it took to mow down a pregnant woman like that, and not even pull over. Unless... was that their intention?  

“I just hope the police don’t find him. Because I want that. I want to murder the bastard with my bare hands for this.” Chibs vowed, Jax gripping his shoulder, understanding that rage. Just then, Venus called for them over from the main entrance, stating Tara was ready to take him to see the boys. Jax and Tig stayed, Chibs telling the others to go and that he’d keep them updated, receiving hugs of support from his brothers before heading back in. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight, looking through the glass into the NICU and seeing them, lying side by side in the same incubator.  

He rocked back on his boots, Tig and Jax grasping him, the shock hitting him squarely. “They’re fucking tiny.” he tremored, covering his face with his hands, running them through his hair as he took another step closer.  

“Come on,” Tara began softly, reaching for his hand and leading him into the unit, Tig and Jax waiting outside. “Twin number one is on the left, born just over a minute before his brother. He’s the stronger, look, see? Even though he’s weak, he’s shuffling around a little.”  

“That’s Henry. He’s always been the most lively out of the two,” he confirmed, Tara smiling.

“I thought he might have been, yes,” she nodded.  “It’s a good sign.”

“And Riley?”

“He’s a lot stiller, but both of their stats are positive at this time. Unfortunately, we need those to stabilise more before we can let you hold them. That period will remain undefined, I’m afraid. They’ll need the humidity of the incubator for a while yet, so expect to have to wait on that. They can’t breathe on their own and we’ve given them blood transfusions as well as fluids, the upside is that they both have very strong little hearts for their age. They do face other risks, but I don’t want to bombard you with all of that right now. All you need to know is that we’re doing everything we can, and the signs are good so far. Their survival rate is eighty percent, and those are very good odds. From Abi’s injuries, it was her who took the brunt of the trauma and not them. They were very lucky.”  

He stared at them, so many tubes poking out of them, so tiny. They probably weren’t much bigger than one of his hands. And he couldn’t even hold them, cradle them to his chest, let them know everything would be okay because daddy was there to take care of them. It was entirely in the hands of the doctors, and he’d never felt more helpless. Their skin was like tissue paper, tiny veins visible, hands so small he couldn’t even comprehend it.  

He remained only for a few further minutes, the nurse moving in to check them over, leaving the room reluctantly while Tara called down to the OR to check on Abi’s progress.  

“They’ll be bringing her back up shortly. Because of her head trauma, she’ll remain sedated for a time. They got the bleed under control very quickly; but she needs to be closely monitored to make sure the swelling goes down. The surgery alleviated the pressure and the swelling will be treated with drugs. She remains in a critical condition.” Seeing her for the first time twenty minutes later was his second big shock of the night, the side of her head shaved down, her face bruised and obscured by the oxygen mask.  

He leaned to gently kiss her forehead, a tear falling from his eye. “Don’t you dare fucking leave me, CB. You hear? The devil ain’t taking you back any time soon.” He sat down, taking her hand in his, sighing, the weight of it all heavy upon him, like led pouring through his veins, his head foggy, stroking her scratched up fingers gently. “I love you so much, baby. Just you get better, right? I don’t care how long it takes, all in your own time, just as long as you do. Those wee boys need their mum.”

He stayed with her for hours, only moving when she was checked over, the medical staff telling him the same thing each time. No change. Not better, but not worse either. At least he could hold onto that. He stayed long after visiting hours were over with, Tara having a quiet word with Margaret, who allowed him to stay at her bedside. He didn’t sleep for the entire night, too terrified of closing his eyes for even a second, just in case something happened in that moment.  

“I’m not leaving you, my darlin’. I’m right here, even if you probably have no idea.” He spoke softly, stroking her head. The only time he did leave was when he felt he’d do damage to his bladder if he hung on to the need to pee for much longer, not even leaving for long enough to feed himself. Not that he was hungry; he was too riddled with concern to have anything remotely resembling an appetite. The following hours brought no change, a few visitors stopping by in the form of Venus, Lyla, Jax and Gemma at various points throughout the day, all urging him to take a break, Chibs remaining as steadfast with each new request as he was the last. He wasn’t leaving her.  

By 10pm upon the second evening at the hospital, her condition still unchanged, the one thing he lost control over was his will to remain awake, falling asleep at her side, her hand still in his, his head rested upon the bed.  

While sleeping, he fell into dreams of times gone by, his sleeping mind replaying moments from the past with her, notably, the first time he’d returned to her after finally giving in to the desire she’d ignited within him while hiding out in the abandoned church. He had no idea why his brain would choose to stir something up like that at such a time, but he was merely the conduit. Seeing her in any way rather than unconscious in a hospital bed was a plus for him right then, though, even while he slept.

Consciousness. While they both lay in alternate states of conscious, hers medical and his of slumber, it was the conscious decision he had made all those years ago that he dreamed of, the one which truly had sparked the chain of events that had led them to that moment. Abi could have been a one-time indiscretion, if he’d fought harder to resist. He hadn’t, though...  

Belfast, 1994

“What are you doing, what the fuck are you fucking doing, you fucking idiot?”  

He came to a stop, sighing, wrestling with it. Cheat on his wife again, or actually honour his fucking marriage vows, the fact that he loved her, that she’d only given birth to their first child five months ago and stop being such a selfish shit of a husband. Closing his eyes, he saw Abi right there beneath him in his mind’s eye, remembered how it felt to be inside her, heard her little moans. God. On he continued, only to grind to a halt after another ten steps.  

Oh, how he wanted her all over again, but it tortured him. It was a want that wasn’t coming easily to him whatsoever. He lit a cigarette, leaning back against a low wall bordering someone’s front garden, frowning as he scratched his head. “Who’d know if you did, though? No one.”

He then groaned. He’d know. He wasn’t entirely without morals, twisted as that was, being a republican solider and an outlaw to boot. But... Abi. The fire she’d lit within him had yet to burn out. If he was honest, he doubted that it ever would. He wanted her all over again, but this time, to enjoy her more thoroughly, spend time securing that enjoyment, not have to be hurried...

Oh, who was he kidding? He wanted to bury his mouth between her legs and eat her to her utter ruin, and it was all he’d been able to think about for the past two days. A single-minded focus upon going down on Abi. If there was one thing he truly thrived upon, it was a mouthful of a gorgeous woman. She was just that, and it incensed him that he hadn’t had chance to the previous time. The time that should have been the only one ever to occur.  

Flicking his cigarette away, he continued down the street, the warehouse coming into view. This time, he only stopped when he reached the door at the side, which lead up to her flat. His heart hammered in his chest with excitement and a little trepidation, his hesitation gone as soon as she opened it and saw her face. God in heaven, she was just so fucking gorgeous, her long, blonde locks all tousled and wild, smoky black lined eyes, dressed in only a simple, oversized white t shirt.

“You’re the last person I expected to see this evening. How can I help you?” she smirked, leaning against the doorframe. Of course, she knew why he was there. She couldn’t help but be playful, though.

“It’s how I can help you, if I’m honest.” His mouth tilted into a wicked smile, Abi biting her lip with excitement. She did wonder, if once would truly be enough for him. It hadn’t been for her.  

“Oh?”

He leaned in close, lips ghosting the side of her neck. “Oh, aye. You see, there’s somewhere very specific I want to put my tongue.” Cupping between her legs, he chuckled throatily when her knees almost buckled, that laugh gaining volume when she turned and shot up her stairs at speed. After closing the door, he followed, entertained by the sight of her naked and waiting for him in the lounge area of her flat, advancing on her with a hungry growl. He gripped her waist, lifting her with ease, Abi giggling as he spanked her, falling into hot kisses.  

In her head, she was chanting ‘oh my god, yes, yes, yes! I get to have sex with him again!’ as he carried her to the bed, placing her down, shrugging himself out of his kutte before moving above her, kissing her once more. He then sat up, stroking her sides, taking her in. “Fucking beautiful. Every last inch of you.” And she was. From her pretty pink nipples right to her black painted toenails, she was utterly stunning.  

The feeling of his mouth closing over one of those nipples, a little scratch of stubble from a few days' growth, his big hands bracketing her waist, the press of his hard body against hers, the contrast of him still being fully clothed against her soft nudity made Abi’s arousal soar, stroking his hair as she wound her legs around him, the press of denim against her bare sex scintillating. Moving his hands to grasp her thighs, he unwound them from around him, slipping down, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses over her silky, warm skin, tongue circling her navel, watching goosepimples rise, the taste of her flesh burned into his memory, but none more so than the taste of her folds, which when he reached, dragging his tongue across, he knew he’d crave forever.  

She sighed breathlessly, her head tipping back into the soft cotton of her grey duvet, her eyes fluttering shut as her hands went to his hair. Oh god, oh god... he knew what to do. Anyone else with their mouth down there preceding him had been utterly bloody clueless, much to her frustration, but Filip? He knew what a clit was for... and exactly how to touch it. His tongue danced over it in little flicks, fingers spreading her open, circling at her, smiling against her folds and sucking her gently when she began to whimper softly.  

“Oh, Jesus bloody god, that’s too good!” she cried, Chibs chuckling, flattening his tongue against her clit and rubbing it back and forth, watching her writhe, exclamations tumbling from her mouth as he increased the pressure and speed, then slowed down again, hands stroking her body, Abi absolutely mind blown. “How the fuck can you be so good with your mouth?”

“Stacks of practice,” he replied with a small shrug, sucking on her again.  

“Fucking hell! You’re never allowed to leave!” That really made him laugh.

“I’m in no hurry, darlin’. Just you lie back and enjoy yourself.” Oh, and how she did. Potent glimmers skittered through her, her little clit throbbing against his tongue as he continued to delight her with circled licks, speedy flicks and strong sucks, Abi not thinking anything could feel better until he slid two fingers into her heat, groaning at how wet she was, curling them around and raking her insides gently. He had her simmering steadily, her pleasure ascending, adding more precision as he watched her chest rising and falling faster, the little flutters of the soaking velvet around his fingers alerting him to the fact she was getting close.  

He moved his tongue in a quicker beat, her escalation gathering momentum, her body going rigid suddenly as she gasped, wailed and came, Chibs moving his mouth to her inner thigh and slowing his fingers, giving her time to cool down a little before returning his tongue to her. She’d cum... and he wasn’t stopping? ‘Do not even question it, girl. Just enjoy him while he’s here.’ That was about the only coherent thought she had, other than how good he was, tongue circling her again, fingers slowly slipping in and out of her drenched cunt, her brain fogged by erotic bliss.

It took barely any time at all for her to ascend for a second time, his groans vibrating through her as he sucked on her clit, the lewd noise of his fingers fucking her filling the air, a third added, Abi wailing as her hands tugged at his hair, her back arching off the bed as she came hard. This time, though, he gave her no cool down, overstimulated and oversensitive as he continued to suck at her, Abi shaking and crying out.  

“Come on, princess. You’ve got another in ye.” He encouraged, fingers punching against her so hard, his rings left little indents, tongue laving at her clit in a firm, relentless beat, Abi so wet she’d begun to puddle the bed beneath her. The only time he paused was to rid himself of his clothes, because this time when she came, he sensed it about five seconds before it hit her, sitting up to plunge his cock within her quivering walls, making her scream ferally before proceeding to pound the life out of her...

It was an odd feeling to awake with, a sparkle of arousal flittering around in his loins, his heart thumping heavily when reality kicked in, the safety of his dream world shattered by the sight of his wife, still unconscious, machines beeping. “Even in my dreams, you work me up like no other. I can’t help but think that’s massively inappropriate at a time like this, but I suppose you’ll get a good laugh out of it when you’re conscious, that yer ole’ man here woke up with a raging hard on because had filthy dreams about you.”  

Lifting her hand to his mouth, he kissed it, reaching to stroke her cheek gently. “I bloody miss you already, you know. Chirping away about something or other while I’m still half asleep, or having the babies kicking me in the back. I’ll miss that waking me up. I have no idea if you can hear me, but they’re alright, our little ones. Tara is taking good care of ‘em for us.”  

As if summoning her, the lady herself appeared, smiling warmly.  “Morning.” Christ, he’d slept all night at her side. He assumed he’d only been out for around an hour. “I’m just about to go off shift, thought I’d come and check her over.”  

“How is she?” he asked after she’d gone about those checks, stretching his arms above his head.  

“Stable, her vitals are good. She’ll be taken for a scan shortly, I should think, to see if the swelling has subsided enough to bring her round from sedation. Just a warning, though, she might not immediately wake up.”  

“I’m not leaving her fucking side until she does, scan excluded,” he vowed, Tara smiling.  

“You should, you know. She’s in the best place she can be. I can pull strings, though, if you’re determined.” He was, of that she knew only too well.  

“How are my boys this morning?”  

“They’re doing very well. Riley had a little blip in the night,” she began, Chibs’ eyes widening.

“Why, what happened? Is he alright?” Tara nodded.  

“He stopped breathing temporarily, but it was just a case of an adjustment of his tube. He’s fine now, we’ve been working on the continued stabilisation of them both, they’re being closely monitored. Do you want to come and see them again?”  

He nodded, standing up, his back letting him know of its displeasure over his choice of sleeping position with a sharp tug he reached to rub as he walked behind Tara, taking the elevator up to the NICU unit. “Although I said you can't hold them, if you go and thoroughly wash and then sanitise your hands, you can reach in and touch them gently.”  

“Okay, give me a minute.” He went down to the bathroom, needing to go anyway, washing his face as well while he was there, feeling a little fresher for it. Once done, he made sure he didn’t touch anything, using a liberal dose of hand sanitiser before entering the NICU and sitting down. It took him a few attempts before reaching through, softly stroking Henry’s hand with his little fingertip. That tiny hand was the size of his fingernail.  

“Hey, little fella.” That was all he could manage, a huge lump forming in his throat. They shouldn’t be there. He should be talking to them while they were still in the safety of their mother's womb, not lying in an incubator, too tiny to be in the world yet. Whoever had done this to his family, he would make them wish they’d never been born. He moved to the other side, greeting Riley in the same way, talking to them both, telling them how much they were loved and that everything would be just fine. He realised as he spoke those words, he needed to believe them himself above all.  

“Okay, so the scan results are favourable, the swelling is beginning to subside at the rate I hoped it would, which means we can bring her round from sedation.” Those words, spoken to him an hour later by Abi’s surgeon, Doctor Williams, were a definite welcome to his ears. As Tara had warned him, though, she didn’t wake up immediately. Just as he’d pledged, he didn’t leave her side either. Not for the rest of the day, or the night that followed, Abi’s condition unchanged.  

No, he refused to leave longer than it would take for him to go to the toilet. Not until the morning after, when he was forced.  

“Filip, come now. Clay gave Alexander your keys so I could go and fetch you a change of clothes. I packed a couple, in fact, sure that you’d likely be reluctant to leave. There’s deodorant, cigarettes and a toothbrush in there as well,” Venus spoke upon her arrival at 11am, poking her head around the door, a large, black rucksack in her hand.  

“You trying to say I stink, Vee?” He needed to lighten the mood a little, Venus rolling her eyes.  

“I am not prepared to get close enough to find out,” she winked, turning to look at Abi with a sigh. “My little boo. How is she?”

“Her brain swelling has gone down, thankfully, the surgeon seems pleased with her progress, so they took her off sedation yesterday. They’ve said it might be a while until she wakes up, though.”

She nodded, a sense of relief gleaming through her. It wasn’t much news, but at least it was good. “I’ll sit with her, you go get freshened up, have a coffee. We’re fine. Its girl talk time.”

“You’re a wonderful woman, Venus. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.” He left them to it, heading in the direction of the bathroom, Venus pulling up a chair on Abi’s other side.  

“So, my pretty little chickadee. It’s just you and me for a short while.” She reached to stroke her hair, tutting softly at the shaved side. “That’s twice now, you’ve lost your hair on that side. Well I say, peachy girl. What is it, about lady injury picking on the right side of your lovely skull, huh?” Venus had been made privy to Fiona’s attack on her, Abi opening up to her friend about it one night, just the two of them out for drinks. “As I’ve been told, this brilliant and beautiful brain of yours has decreased swelling, yet you still linger in this comatose state. I hope you can hear me, so I can tell you that I love you much and hope that wherever you are drifting, you come back to where you belong soon.”

As it turned out, Abi could hear her, but her consciousness was far away, unable for her to grasp, to bring herself back to tether. Where she was, it was beautiful, peaceful, the conjuring her brain had fabricated, the place her comatose state had transported her to. She wasn’t truly there, and she did know that, but sitting atop a hill in Glenelly Valley, back at home in Ireland, she felt very content. The sun was shining, she didn’t feel the terrible pain her accident had left her in, and it was quiet. Well, was being the operative word. With a thud, she felt someone sit down beside her.

“Alright, twat head.” Monica?

Abi turned, her face a picture of disbelief. “Shit, am I dead?”

Monica snorted, nudging her with a soft elbow. “No, don’t be stupid. I am, though. Still.”

“Then why the fuck are you here if I’m not dead?”

She shrugged, picking at a blade of grass before her. “Fucked if I know. So, do I get a hug, or what?”  

Abi laughed softly through her nose, wrapping her arms around her sister, feeling tears prickle her eyes. She’d longed for this in the eighteen years she’d been without her big sister, except it felt strange to her, Monica obviously appearing to her as she’d been when she was twenty. The dead did not age, though. The dead did nothing, yet there she was.

“I know you’re likely just a figment of my imagination, but it’s great to see you,” she breathed, inhaling the scent of her hair. She even smelled like her. Pantene shampoo and white musk perfume from The Body Shop.  

“Or I could be being a complete cunt and you are dead.”  

Abi let her go, glaring. “Fuck off, shit face.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “You’re not, so. That car fucking twatted the shit out of you though, Christ.”

Abi hummed, her eyes widening a touch. “Yeah, I think that’s a fair assessment of the situation.”

“So,” Monica began, shuffling a little nearer. “Fil Telford?”

She snorted, shaking her head. “Aye.”

“That’s all I get, aye? Pffft!”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything!! Fucking hell, that was a brave play, pinching him right under Fiona’s nose!”

“Do you blame me?”

Monica looked thoughtful. “He never really did it for me, I mean he’s a good-looking fella and all, but, meh.”

“He’s gorgeous. And he has a nine-inch cock.”

“Oooh, now I’m interested!” They shared laughter, Abi feeling like something missing had clicked into place. God, she’d missed her sister. “No, to be serious, I hope you’re happy with him. The life dad threw us into didn’t leave a lot of room for anything other than the cause. You getting out and building something else for yourself, well, I think it’s grand, so I do.”  

Abi smiled, thinking of him. “Aye, I am. Really happy. He’s the best.”

“I should think so, if his cock is nine inches!”

She snorted, tickled by her humour as always. “You know what I mean.”

“I do, yeah.”

“He makes me ridiculously happy. He’s just... he understands me, my life, where I’ve been, all of that.”

“He’s not scared of you either, is he? That’s always what you needed. Suits you, being with an outlaw. I agree with that, at least.”  

Abi was just about to ask her what she meant, turning to her side and seeing the space she’d occupied empty. “Mon? Oh, cheers. You piss off and leave me here alone.”

“You’re not on your own, love.” Her head spun around, her heart skipping a beat. “Hello, sweetheart.”

“Da?”

“Aye, the one and only.” Immediately, her eyes narrowed. “Oh, stop it with that face. You’ll be doing the lips like a duck’s arsehole next.” Immediately, her mouth pursed. “Look, see! There they are, right on cue!”  

“You fucking lied to me!”

“Abigail, you’ll watch your language.”

“No, I bloody won’t! I begged you not to have him hurt, and you didn’t just hurt him, you destroyed his life, and mine! I’ll never forgive you for it!”

Michael sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. “I did what needed to be done.”

“No, it didn’t need to be done! Jimmy could’ve given him a bi-proxy beating, I think we’d have both understood that, but what you did was next level!”

“You’re still angry with me. That’s a shame, love. I’ve missed you, you and your mother.”  

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Too right, I’m still angry with you. You’re not even sorry.”

“He had a nerve, ever looking at you like that, and god knows what else following it.”

“You do know I'm the one who went after him, don’t you? It wasn’t the other way around. In fact, he spent months turning me down, if truth be known. I wasn’t just some girl he was shagging on the side, you know. We fell in love with each other, the fact he’s the man I’ve ended up marrying, the man who fathered my sons is testament to that.”  

He frowned, looking out over the valley. “You always did want what you knew you couldn’t have. Remember when you were three, and you climbed up the fridge to get your mammy’s biscuits from the top, fell and split your head open?”

“You still didn’t give me a biscuit when we got back from A&E either! Anway, you’re changing the subject.”

“For Christs sakes, Abigail! What do you want me to do? It happened sixteen years ago, I’m dead, I can’t undo it!  

“I want you to acknowledge that you went too far!”

“Did I, though?”

“You had his face ripped open and kicked him out of Ireland! You broke my fucking heart, da! I was crushed! Yes, you raised me to be tough, but I wasn’t hardened enough to withstand losing the love of my life. I never got over it, being parted from him.”

“Fine!” he conceded. “Maybe I did take it too far, but in my defence, it was the last thing I needed to have thrown at me four days before I died.” Her face was still stony. “I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry my actions caused you so much pain.” Reaching for her, he stroked her wrist, walking his fingers over the top of her hand before linking them through hers. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”  

“So, what’s life like in California?”

“Perpetually sunny.”

He snorted. “I’d hate it after about ten minutes. Give me Ireland any day, proper seasons, snow on the ground, all of that.”

“It snows there! Not much, but there’s a little sometimes.”  

He looked off into the distance again, hand squeezing hers. “Don’t get too comfortable here, sweetheart. The land of sunshine needs you back, you know. It isn’t your time yet.”

She nodded. “I know, da. I know. Can I have a cuddle, while I’m not getting too comfortable?”  

Michael smiled, wrapping his arm around her and holding her tightly. “Of course, you bloody can, girl. Love you, you little shit.”

“Love you too, da.” Suddenly, she felt short of breath, like her chest had a great weight upon it on one side.  

“I mean it, love. No matter how much it hurts, you have to go back.”  

“Da, da, I can’t breathe. Da! I’m scared.”

“Go back, Abi.”  

That was the moment her eyes fluttered open, and just for a brief moment, she saw Chibs and Venus at her bedside, blinking rapidly, panicking, and then fading out once more. She didn’t know where she went after that, but it wasn’t back to the valley.  

[itsallyscorner]

so, I was watching the video that came out today and I was thinking about a age gap seb x reader around his friends like Jessica or maybe chace? And they're just hanging out and they both have this lovesick look on their faces and when she leaves the room for some reason they don't waste any time addressing how in love she is with him, and sebs glad bc they were kinda wary of her at first?

Hiyaaa babes! This is my first request so woohoo🥳 Since you mentioned the video, I literally thought of the pictures that were released while they were filming 355, and now I can’t get the image of Seb in Paris because holy shit he looked good. So I’m gonna be using Jessica❤️

- This came out so long, I’m a sucker for background info and can’t get past writing a story without one💀 Enjoy!💜

💌.

Lovesick

You and Sebastian were unexpected. Literally the chances of you guys getting together were so off and you guys were at different times of your lives. He was in his late 30s, already living most of his life as a successful actor. While you were in your early 20s still in college working on your doctoral degree to become a Pharmacist (It was the only major I could think of atm because it’s the one I’m planing on lol.) You guys met at the cafe near your campus. You always went there every morning and would spot him drinking his morning coffee with his nose stuck in a new script he was reading. You two would sneak glances at each other, admiring each other from afar. Until one day when the cafe was fairly packed and you needed a place to sit. You spotted his familiar face and asked him if you could sit in the seat across from him. Obviously he agreed and you guys talked, getting to know each other the whole time. When it was time for you to leave for classes, you guys exchanged numbers and kept in touch.

Which brings us to today. You and Sebastian have been going strong for about a year now and were approaching your second year together. Though you two are as happy as can be and are still in the honeymoon phase (even after a year), the first few months of the relationship were quite rough. There was an obvious age gap between you two, it didn’t bother you two as much, but the public didn’t react too nicely about it. Your parents weren’t too fond of the idea of you dating an older man, but after getting to know him they knew his intentions with you were well. Same goes for your friends and family. When it came to his fans and the media finding about your relationship, that’s when it went to shit.

The media made Sebastian look like some creep who was going through a midlife crisis for dating someone much younger than him. A few “fans” even claimed that he were a “groomer” after pictures of you and him heavily making out on the street were released. These issues caused some bumps in the road for your relationship, though after many arguments, you two realized that the only opinions that mattered were each other’s.

Now you two were staying at a hotel in Paris. Sebastian was currently working on a big project, “The 355”, something he was very excited about. This was one of the first projects that he was really involved in, from script to screen, he played a pretty big role in this project.

You were typing up a report for your class when Sebastian entered the hotel room. He was still in his set clothes, a light blue shirt, dark jeans, and a pair of Chelsea boots. He approached the bed where you were typing and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Hey sweetheart, how’s school going?” He greeted you as he settled himself on the bed, laying on his side.

“Meh, it’s going...but I finished my report on time. Now I just need to proofread it.” You smiled as you finished typing the last sentence of your report. When Sebastian discovered he was going to film in Paris, he immediately told you, knowing you’ve been dreaming of visiting Paris. Luckily for the both of you, your school allowed you to do online learning (it probably doesn’t work like that but just go with it) and you were able to tag along with him.

“I’m sure it’s prefect, you’re a great writer.” He complimented, you hummed in response. Turning to him you run your hand through his short hair making him lean into your touch. You loved his fluffy hair but the short hair was starting to grow on you.

Sebastian turned his head and pressed a kiss into your palm, stormy eyes gazing up at you.

“How has your day been?” You asked.

“It was good. We got through a good amount of scenes without messing up, so I’d say it was a successful day.” He answered. You smiled at his enthusiasm. Sebastian’s face always lit up when he was talking about a project and it was one of the things you admired most about him, his passion for his work.

“So, you’ve been cooped up in this damn hotel all day. Why don’t you come to dinner with me and the cast tonight? You’ve been waiting to visit Paris all your life and you haven’t even been outside this hotel for days.” He suggested. It was true, you haven’t done much but do school work, order room service, and binge watch shows on Netflix.

“Are you sure they’d want me to come? I might be intruding.” Honestly you were nervous to meet the rest of the cast. You’ve met Jessica a few times but they were brief and she seemed like she didn’t like you. Though that could just be your thoughts making you paranoid, you were still nervous to meet the people Seb worked with. You didn’t want them to think you were using him for money or to travel around the world because you weren’t. You loved Sebastian for himself, not the money and the fame, you could care less about all that.

But they were still Sebastian’s friends and you wanted to have a good first impression on them. You didn’t want them to think you were just some immature college girl who needed money to pay off her college funds.

Noticing you were drifting off, Sebastian pressed another kiss into your palm and grasps it. “You wouldn’t be intruding, Jessica actually suggested you come along.” He mentioned.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, baby. Come on, let’s put this stuff away and get ready. We’re having dinner at the Eiffel Tower.”

“I— the Eiffel Tower?”

•

To say you were intimidated and scared shitless was an understatement. Here you were in the Eiffel Tower having dinner with some of the most talented women in Hollywood. Like seriously Jessica Chastain, Lupita Nyong’o, Penélope Cruz, and Diane Kruger. Of course Seb and Édgar Ramírez where there as well. Then there was you, NYC local college student. You didn’t wanna say you felt out of place, but you did. These were successful people who probably starred in some of the movies you watched growing up. Now you’re literally in the Eiffel fucking Tower having dinner with them.

Dinner was going smoothly, everyone was talking about the set, shared some funny stories, and you were keeping to yourself simply eating your steak. That was until the attention was brought to you.

“So (y/n), Sebastian mentioned you were in college, what are you studying?” Jessica asked. Everyone turned to you and you swear you felt like a deer in headlights. Seb nudged your thigh with his, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Yes I am! I’m actually taking a PharmD program at St. John Fisher to become a Pharmacist.” you answered.

“For your masters?” She followed up curiously, slightly leaning forward to you.

“No, for my doctoral degree.” You corrected her proudly. You didn’t want to come off as an ass, but you were proud of your work and you worked your ass off for it.

Everyone at the table was taken back by your response. Except Sebastian, who had a just as proud smile on his face. They knew you were in college but not studying something as serious as Pharmacy.

“St.John Fisher College? I had a cousin that went there, it’s a great college.” Lupita was the first to break the silence.

“So are you working in the field yet? For some experience?” Penélope chimed in. Sebastian snorted, “Oh she has experience, trust me.”

You chuckled as you softly smacked Seb’s bicep, “Well currently, I’m interning as a Pharmacy Tech at a hospital pharmacy. They’re thinking about making me a permanent one until I graduate so fingers crossed!”

As you answered all their questions about your personal life and your major, Sebastian couldn’t help but just admire you. Just like how you admired the way he talked about his projects, he admired the way you got lost in rambling about your soon career. The way your eyes lit up, how your hands moved while you talked, and that hint of a smile on your face. He absolutely adored every single thing about you.

Dinner continued, the last question for you about why you chose to do college in New York, which segwayed into a conversation about— well New York. As the others talked about their love for the city, Sebastian wrapped his arm around your shoulders. Your back was now pressed to his chest, both of you not listening to the conversation. You pressed a kiss to his arm and looked back at him.

“Hey you.” You hummed at him rubbing your thumb along his arm.

“Hi.” He gazed down at you with that smile that made his eyes crinkle. The moment was interrupted by your phone ringing. Quickly glancing at the contact ID, it was the hospital pharmacy you interned for.

“You should take that.” Seb whispered into your ear.

“No, Seb that’s rude. We’re at dinner, I’m sure it can wait.”

“I have a good feeling about this call, draga mea.” He coaxed you. Having a feeling that he might be right you excuse yourself from the table. When you’re gone the table goes quiet.

“Sebastian, you’ve got one hell of a girlfriend.” Penélope stated as the rest of the table agreed.

“She’s so smart! What the hell, a doctoral degree? Kudos to her because the amount of motivation I would need to even try!” Jessica followed up with an amazed look on her face.

“I think you guys are forgetting to mention how whipped they both are for each other! Those two were in their own world over there!” Lupita pointed out. The whole table laughed as Sebastian was turning red. Of course he was whipped, he knew he was.

“I love her guys, she’s, she’s something else. The spunk she has, her intelligence, she’s-,” Sebastian began to list but was cut off by Édgar, “Out of your league?”

The whole table burst into laughter as they agreed with Édgar. You were also coming back to the table after your call. Sebastian spotted you, eyes connecting to yours immediately.

“Everything alright?”

“They gave me the permanent job!”

draga mea - my darling 

[hellopopculture]

Top 20 Female/Joshi Wrestlers of 2021 (Part 2)

Description: We’re a long way away from the “Women’s Revolution” and in some ways the treatment of female wrestling talent in the West has reverted back to the “Diva Era”. In contrast, Joshi Wrestling at companies like STARDOM, has not only been able to stay afloat but grow during the pandemic. Not to be outdone though; the women’s divisions of WWE, AEW, Impact & ROH still put up and good fight and overall made it a competitive year for women in Pro Wrestling.

8. Thunder Rosa-Rosa came in to AEW as a champion in 2020, holding the NWA Women's Title. She challenged a few of the top talents in the company eventually making her way to Dr. Britt Baker. Britt would cost Rosa the NWA Women's Championship in a rematch with Serena Deeb on November 18th, 2020, as their feud would grow more and more heated. AEW's women's division was struggling at this point. Before Britt had beaten Shida and taken the title off of her she had suffered some injuries and even though she was making her presence felt as a heel after her turn, the division wasn't faring well under Shida. She had kind of exhausted a lot of the best opponents that the company had to offer so when Rosa came in and Britt finally beat Shida, that was seemingly the turning point for the division. While it's still struggling, the Unsanctioned Lights Out Match in March of 2021 @ St. Patrick's Day Slam showed us all the possibilities for what this division could produce. I don't think it's even debatable..this was the greatest women's match in company history. For this company it will probably be like Sasha Vs. Bayley @ Takeover: Brooklyn where all the best matches following it will be compared to it.

7. Deonna Purrazzo-After being released by WWE in 2020 without really being given a chance to show what she could do on the main roster, Deonna has been plenty busy. She signed with Impact in 2020 and kind of became the focal point of The Knockout's Division. Deonna prides herself on her technical wrestling ability and which just wasn't going to work out in "Sports Entertainment". The Virtuosa made her in-ring debut in Impact on June 9th of 2020 attacking Jordynne Grace. By Slammiversary in July of that year she had taken the Knockouts Championship off of Jordynne, winning her first title in the company.

Deonna dominated the Summer of 2020, and by 2021 she still remained the "woman to beat". While knocking down all the competition Impact could throw at her, she set out to extend the limits of her reign as one of the most commanding women in the sport by winning the AAA Reina de Reinas title from Faby Apache @ TripleMania XXIX making her a double champion.

Her reign in Impact came to an end when she was defeated by Mickie James @ Bound for Glory, but she became a Double Champion again by beating Rok-C for the Ring of Honor Women's Championship. At 27, we still haven't seen the upper limits of Deonna's potential but 2022 is a new year and i'm sure she has more to show us.

6. Charlotte Flair-In terms of accolades 2021 was a great year for Charlotte. With Sasha Banks passing the torch to Bianca Belair @ WrestleMania and taking a backseat to her, Bayley & Asuka getting injured and Becky Lynch being at home with her baby, Charlotte had plenty of room to shine. She didn't really do that great of a job of it with many of her opponents not being elevated and falling by the wayside, but she was still dominant at least. When she exchanged titles with Becky Lynch that made her a 6-Time Raw Women's Champion and an overall 13-time Women's Champion on the main roster.

5. Utami Hayashishita-Judo Black Belt, Utami Hayashishita only began training to be a Joshi wrestler in 2018. She was already getting high marks for her wrestling ability and won the tag league as well as the Goddess of Stardom Championship with Momo Watanabe in her first year. In 2019 she won 4 championships, The Pro Wrestling: EVE International Championship, The Future of Stardom Championship, The SWA World Championship & The Artist of Stardom Championship with her Queen's Quest stablemates which she held all at once. She won the 5★Star Grand Prix in 2020 and then the World of Stardom Championship. By 2021 in only a short time in the business, Utami had established herself as one of the top women in the company having main evented almost every STARDOM event that year. Her rivalry with Syuri had been building up to The big Dream Queendom show at the end of the year where her reign would come to an end but not before she had the first 5★Star match in Stardom history.

Utami is nothing short of amazing. Out of the 12 women that held the World of Stardom Championship, she has had the 4th longest reign behind decorated veteran Mayu Iwatani, Seadlinnng Founder Nanae Takahashi & The former Ace, Io Shirai. Although she's not the top Champion anymore, STARDOM’s future looks bright with her.

[greenbriar-j]

Muscle Memory, full wip, unedited 4.7k, scroll at ur own risk; tagging some people who showed previous interest @halleiswriting @chazzawrites @pe-ersona @druidx and also @pens-swords-stuff this is what I’ve been up to lately

Saint Joseph’s Catholic Church bustles with activity. It’s peculiar, for it being a weekday. More peculiar still that the bustling is being done by young men and women who could very well be engaging in… more satisfying summer indulgences.

The Youth Group’s power couple sweeps in an hour late, ever put together even when, by all rights, they ought to be melting right out of their fancy outfits. Cheers rise from the crowd when they appear, each splitting off in their own directions to their own stations.

Y Nhi beelines for the painters, flicking her sleek ponytail to make sure it’s out of the way. The girls hand her a brush while detailing what’s left to be done. Vinny bustles for the sound technicians - who, really, are already done for the day, but are staying for the social factor.

Two things to note about St. Joseph’s power couple:

Y Nhi isn’t sure she believes in God very much anymore.

They are not a couple, but it’s easier to let everyone think so than to correct it.

“Jude,” Mary says (everyone calls her Jude because she and Vinny made a big deal of it years ago), “Are you sure you can’t help out during the week?”

Y Nhi shrugs. She’s not busy or anything, but it feels wrong to shepherd children into a religion she’s falling out of - even if Vacation Bible School had been one of her favorite summer memories for her entire life. That’s where she met Vinny, after all.

Vinny, laughing with the guys at the sound booth. To be more accurate, Vinny himself is only smirking, but that’s as close to a laugh as he gets around here. Stupid smirk. Stupid boy.

“I have work. Unfortunately,” Y Nhi mutters, dragging her brush across a cardboard cutout. “Vinny’s taking the week off, so I’m picking up his slack.”

Mary grins widely at that. “I swear it’s like you’re married.”

For whatever reason, Y Nhi’s heart clenches at that. Picturing herself and Vinny in wedding attire on the altar sickens her, but putting a faceless someone in her place makes her feel worse. But it’s not like she likes him. She’s sworn to herself that she’d become a cat lady in her old age - her army has already begun with a fluffy black kitten. It’s not looking too good for her future; Toothless likes Vinny more than her. She’s already failed as a parent.

Belatedly, Y Nhi realizes she’s supposed to be engaging in a conversation, not thinking about Vinny and their co-parenting of a cat. If it can be called that.

“Don’t hold your breath. The wedding is a long way off,” she says tightly. Like. Never. Never is a long, long way off.

“I wouldn’t be too sure.”

This time, Y Nhi lets the comment slide. She paints while singing under her breath, as she always does. A long time ago, she had no qualms about belting it out, but time has weathered away her volume, reducing it to only this. No one’s noticed the change or found it strange.

The conversation turns to something - anything - else. Degrees, internships, other boys who don’t dress in all black and aren’t named Vincent Truong. Y Nhi listens, but doesn’t contribute.

By the time the call goes out for a lunch break, Y Nhi is finishing three tasks at once. One of the other girls brings her a burger, slathered with ketchup and mayo and tomatoes. Y Nhi thanks her and continues wrapping one of the white pillars in cardboard paper to simulate a palm tree.

Not long after, someone nudges her. Eyes flickering upward, she’s met with the bored eyes of her very best friend. “Bite.”

She doesn’t, not yet.

Vinny wiggles the burger he’s holding in front of her mouth. “Only half a slice of cheese. No tomatoes. Freshest patty of the batch. Eat.”

She still doesn’t take the bait, even though he’s tailored this burger to her weirdly specific tastes.

Vinny sighs. “Jude. No one’s watching you. I promise all they can see is my back.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” It’s true she had a complex about eating in public for a while, for reasons she’s never told anyone including him. “Just not hungry.”

“Not very Gucci of you to lie in the house of God.”

“Not very Gucci of you to breathe.”

“Jude! The fuck, man.” But he’s grinning. Not the half-assed grin he gives everyone else, but an honest, mirthful grin reserved for Toothless and Y Nhi only (usually Toothless. Damn cat).“Just eat this, okay? I’ll eat the other one.” His whole demeanor softens as he picks up the burger she had ignored - the one that is surely cold by now.

She is hungry. After all, the reason they were late is because Vinny had to coax her to every step of getting ready this morning. He even applied her eyeliner with the even strokes of a practiced hand - so practiced that even Y Nhi admits it looks like her own work. If she had a choice, she would waste away in bed for the day, but Vinny has never been much of a fan of that plan.

According to her own plan, Y Nhi had been wasting away since before yesterday’s dinner. Famished might be a better word to describe her present state.

But today is one of those days that she feels guilty cementing the married couple narrative any more than it needs to be. They’re not getting any younger, Vinny and Y Nhi, and just because she’s sworn off marriage doesn’t mean he has. How’s he supposed to get a nice girlfriend if she keeps hanging around?

Objectively, it’s a stupid reason to risk passing out in a church of all places, but something about him just makes her stupid. Always has.

The longer she ignores his peace offering, the twitcher he gets. He finishes his own burger in ten massive bites. When Y Nhi still doesn’t eat hers, he eats that whole thing too. “We’re leaving early. Say an hour? Think about what you want to eat.”

With that, he’s gone. Y Nhi is not hyper aware of his presence as it moves through the open space. She does not miss having him next to her. Not even a little.

-

Y Nhi writes, appetite??? in her journal when she gets home. It’s the third time something of this nature has appeared on its list which isn’t titled - but if it was it would be something like “Things About Vinny T. that Don’t Make Sense.”

Even after inhaling two burgers, he took her out for pho and Thai tea, and he ate so slow that his noodles expanded in the broth. Still, he finished a medium bowl with relative ease, and Y Nhi was content after she’d finished a small.

How does someone who eats like that look like that? It has to be some sort of stupid freaky metabolism. Genetic polymorphism, she thinks, then adds that she might be incorrectly using the term she’d heard in class about two semesters ago.

She writes freeloading on the list. It’s not technically true, but he spends enough time at her place to make it feel like it. Right this minute, he’s setting up the living room to sleep in, awaiting her delivery of the overnight bag he always leaves stocked in her apartment for emergencies.

That goes on the list too. Definition of ‘emergency.’

According to recent months, an alarming amount of things fit under this category of Vinny’s mind. It might be nearing time to stage an intervention, but who’s Y Nhi to tell him to relax when she’s the one bordering on anxiety attacks all the time? Only god knows how many times he’s clutched her shaking hands until they stopped.

Y Nhi closes the journal. Snaps the band over the cover. Shoves it under her pillow. Vinny wouldn’t dare read it to begin with, but for some reason, she doesn’t even want him to know of its existence.

Quickly divesting herself of the impeccable outfit she’d worn for the day, she slips easily into one of Vinny’s large, large shirts and the shorts she affectionately calls game day shorts. Ever since high school, she’s worn them for events that require equal amounts of comfort and courage - or just for comfort, to be honest.

“Hey, loser,” she greets Vinny, emerging from her room. He’s got her guitar in hand, and is humming some tune that she recognizes but can’t place. “Your stuff is on my bed. Have you seen Toothless?”

He nods, and keeps playing. It’s in experience, being stared at with such intense eyes while trying not to stare at the other party’s stupid pretty hands playing her guitar. Fuck him, honestly, she thinks angrily.

Leaving him there, she pours each of them a glass of water in the kitchen. A shadow looms on top of the fridge, and she jumps. “Toothless, baby. Please stop napping on the fridge.”

Toothless is not napping. He stands up, shakes his tiny body and hops to the counter, then to the floor, twining around Y Nhi’s feet before scuttling off.

Vinny is singing now. It’s a new song, she supposes, and it sounds like a love song.

Slowly, Y Nhi moves around the kitchen, making as little noise as possible while doing absolutely nothing. She just wants to listen to Vinny and his new love song without him watching her reaction.

Once she gets past the lyrics about gentle touches and midnight escapades, she realizes something. Re-entering the living room, she deposits his water on the table. “Is that my melody? Why would you steal it?”

The guitar is placed awkwardly on the floor, the neck of it leaning on the couch. “Oh, is that where it’s from? Thought it was familiar,” he says with mild disinterest. “Well, I wasn’t that attached to it anyway.”

“Are you saying it sucks?” Y Nhi settles on the floor on the other side of the table, pulling her knees into her chest. Glancing through her lashes, Y Nhi watches Vinny’s expressions.

“I’m saying I’m not taking your work, you brat.” Then he hesitates. “I mean. Can I, just for one person?”

“What the fuck.”

Vinny twitches, finally. “I… Wrote the song for someone… So I’d like to sing it for her, just once.”

Something vile rises in her throat, and she wishes Toothless would notice her distress. Hugging the cat might make her feel a little better about the fact that Vinny’s written a song about a girl using her melody - and it’s not about herself and for some odd reason, that bothers her.

“Can- Can I hear it?” Y Nhi asks in a tiny voice. It’s easier than No, you cannot take my song to sing to some other girl who will take you away from me.

“Haven’t you been hearing it?”

“Vincent.” Because that’s easier than You colossal idiot, what shit are you pulling after two years?

“Jude-”

She stands suddenly, fleeing to her room. Shutting the door, locking it, she tries to breathe. Of all people, Vinny should be the last person to push her to this reaction. She doesn’t know what to think.

Vinny knows.

Vinny knows where her hard limits are. Technically, he hasn’t passed them. But he’s pretty damn close.

Y Nhi slips into the shower, leaving it on the hottest setting to boil the emotions out.

-

For the next two days, Y Nhi doesn’t emerge from her room. Her phone dies, and she lets it. Her body self-destructs in hunger and dehydration from crying, and she lets it. She stays in bed for most of it. Whether Vinny continues to sleep on the other side of the wall for those nights, she doesn’t know. Nor care.

It’s punishment for believing she might be ready to give love another chance.

-

The third day, a letter slips under her door.

She almost flushes it down the toilet without reading it. Everything is in position to do so, paper fluttering in unsteady hands above the toilet bowl. But she wants to know. What can Vinny possibly say for himself?

Jude. I wrote the song for you. I didn’t mean to steal your tune - honest to god, I didn’t. But when I found out, I thought it was fitting that we’d worked on it together. (“Together”)

Jude, the song is up to your interpretation, but it’s yours. I wrote it from my core, and it’s yours. Charge your fucking phone and check the lyrics I sent you.

Take a shower, and call me when you’re ready. You have a few days’ worth of takeout in the fridge. Please take care of your health; I know you’re not right now. I mean it in the best way.

It cuts off there. Unceremonious and blunt, and so very him. She hates it very much.

Y Nhi charges her phone while she showers. Working quickly because she’s so unsteady on her feet, she does the bare minimum before stumbling into the kitchen for food.

While she nibbles on the stir fried noodles he left, she pens her own note.

Vinny,

I will not read the lyrics. I don’t want to know, and you don’t have to pretend it’s about me.

Your joke took two years to reach completion. Congratulations. I hope I was amusing and that my downfall wall be the stunning conclusion you wanted.

She tapes it on her front door so he’ll see it the next time he comes over. Soon, probably.

Momentarily, she wonders if she’s being rash. Is it so impossible to think that he could find romantic attraction to her?

Then she remembers. Y Nhi is not built to be loved, if her history is anything to go by. Even if she’s wrong, even if Vinny loves her for real, she will resist. Losing him this way is better than the alternative: watching him dissolve to some monstrosity while loving her.

-

Nothing changes after that. Apart from Vinny’s absence from her apartment, they interact in exactly the same way.

Vinny says something borderline rude.

Y Nhi retorts with something blatantly rude.

They laugh about it and move along.

There are no gentle touches to avoid because Vinny rarely touched her to begin with - despite the way he slings his arm around everyone else, he wasn’t like that with her. No arm around her shoulder, no hugs, not even extended contact with her hair.

Y Nhi pretends not to notice when he goes through a full dinner with an arm draped over the back of his friend Justin’s chair. He leans on it, adding the tiniest space between himself and Y Nhi. He still passes her the condiments and spices she likes before she asks for them. He takes her home at the end of it.

This should be enough. Up until now, it always had been. These tiny acts were his long distance hugs. It had always been enough, but now it isn’t, and Y Nhi doesn’t know what to do.

Isn’t this what you wanted? For him to get a life away from you?

“How’s that girl?” She asks on the way home, just because the silence is killing her and perhaps because she’s a masochist. “The one you wrote the song for?”

Vinny looks at her for a brief moment, something like grief in his eyes. It’s a confusing expression. “She hasn’t really talked to me since.”

Y Nhi tries not to sit straighter at this revelation. “Oh, really? Hm. That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

Something about the word is profoundly heartbroken. She can almost feel the emotions hurtling off him in waves, but he doesn’t lash out at her. All it does is enclose each passenger of the car in a separate bubble. This is the closest they’ve been in a long time, but Y Nhi has never felt so isolated.

Her throat constricts, and her hands start to shake. “Do you… Know why?”

Vinny thinks for a moment, tapping his fingers on the wheel. “I think she doesn’t believe me. But I don’t really think it’s me, I think she thinks that love is meant for everyone except herself. She’s pretty bent on self-destruction now, as far as I can tell - No, don’t say anything yet.”

Every girl Vinny’s talked to in the last week pops up in her mind. Which of them seems most self-destructive? If she can’t keep herself by his side, he should at least have someone who can care for him. She could talk to them, probably, if she knew who it was.

“I… She thinks this is sudden, but I’ve been in love with her since I was fifteen. Or something. Like it kind of just happened over time, and I thought she knew.”

Fifteen means Vinny’s been futilely in love with someone else while she fell for the guy who ended up cheating on her.

They were happy in high school. It was college that broke them. Distance. The communications became less frequent in an inverse relationship to Y Nhi’s alcohol intake. Her grades suffered, and she convinced herself that she was too stupid for higher education. On his birthday, she drove for hours to his dorm to surprise him, only to find him making out with another girl. Sober.

Not that any level of inebriation could excuse him, but perhaps it would’ve hurt a little less.

Vinny isn’t done. “I fucking cut fruit for her every time we hung out. I did her dishes sometimes. I don’t know, I- I thought I did everything right. My mom thought I was doing everything right.”

“You tell your mom about your love life?”

Y Nhi doesn’t. Her parents don’t care enough to know anything about it beyond that she let go of a future doctor and that she’ll never find another because she’s past her prime. That’s what it feels like, anyway.

She’s literally twenty four. She has time.

“Not really. But they’ve met.” Vinny parks the car in front of her apartment, but he makes no move to get out or to let Y Nhi get out. “Jude, listen to me.”

“I’m listening,” she says. Training her eyes on her kitchen window, she thinks about the dishes she hasn’t done yet, the fruit she hasn’t cut yet, and how she hates thinking about it because it reminds her Vinny is fading.

Human adaptability is a remarkable thing. One more week, and this new normalcy will cement itself.

“The girl I love is you. Okay? I’ve walked around the topic for years, and I understand if you’re still not ready for it. But I know you’re getting the wrong idea in that head of yours. It’s you, and it’s always been you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it if you let me. I’ll also bow out forever if that’s what you need from me. But I need you to talk to me. I-”

Holy shit, is he about to cry? With wild eyes, she glances at him. If she’s made him cry, he’ll return the favor five-fold. No, she backtracks. That’s not Vinny. That’s the behavior of her second ex, the one that reduced her to a stiff puppet of a girl.

“Come back to me,” he says in a small, strangled voice. “I don’t even care if you break me in the process, but please come back to me. You can do whatever you want, as long as you do it by my side.”

For the longest moment, they say nothing. Then Y Nhi opens the car door. “Can you cut my strawberries for me? They taste better when you cut them.”

-

Vinny washes her dishes and her strawberries and quarters the already small fruit for her. He deposits the snacks in front of her and watches her eat - slowly, since they’ve just come back from dinner, after all.

“So it’s me?”

“Always has been.”

“And you never said anything.”

“I did. You ignored it on purpose.”

“No, I’m just a stupid hoe.”

“You’re not stupid. Or a hoe.”

“You’re always calling me stupid.”

“Not like that, stupid.”

“You’re going to have to undo a lot of damage if we date.”

“I know. I’ve been working on it already, didn’t you notice?”

“Yeah, but it’s gonna get worse if we date.”

“Have you considered therapy?”

“Vinny, I’ll be a pariah.”

“A happy one, maybe.” Hesitantly, he reaches for one of her hands. Halfway, he flips the palm up and waits for her to complete the gesture on her own. “You don’t have to decide right away. It’s just a thought.”

She puts her hand in his a little too eagerly, then pulls back a little too harshly. It feels like touching the flame of a candle.

A defeated look momentarily crosses Vinny’s eyes, but Y Nhi barely has the time to look at it before she steels her nerves and takes hold of his hand again. The coldness of his rings grounds her somehow. “We need a list,” Y Nhi says, “of things. First, you’re going to Google touch starvation.”

Her best friend jerks in a little victorious motion, jamming his knee unceremoniously on the table leg as he does. “Fuck, that hurt.”

“What was that about?”

“I wasn’t sure if you were actually touch starved or if you didn’t like men touching you.”

“And you didn’t ask?” Y Nhi is incredulous.

“How am I supposed to ask? ‘Jude, when I touch you, does it remind you of your sleazy ex boyfriends?’ You’d say no. Like a liar. Or so I thought.” He pauses. “Anyway, this means I can hug you now, right? 24/7.”

“If you ease into it.”

“And you’ll stop wearing those gigantic shirts that literally drown you.”

“...No. What?”

“Okay, never mind, nothing. What else? What other boundaries do we have?”

Of all questions she’s been asked today, this one is probably the most confusing. Her previous relationships are no help; she hasn’t exactly had the best exposure to “healthy relationships.” She’s aware that the bare minimum counts as decadence for her, so the question has her a little frozen.

After watching her face flicker through whatever emotions it’s displaying, Vinny rubs a thumb over her knuckles. “How about this: I have a specific thing I want your help with, and when things come up, we can talk about it.”

Y Nhi nods, though they both know she won’t talk about shit. But perhaps watching Vinny sort out whatever issue he needs sorted will give her inspiration on how to approach this. “Can we-?” She starts and stops abruptly.

Vinny blinks, then feeds her a strawberry slice. “Go ahead.” It’s a tactful move. Putting food in her mouth means she has to chew, meaning she has a few more seconds to gather herself and her thoughts, or at the very least, the desire to continue speaking.

“Can we not label this?” She finishes. “Whatever is between us.”

To her surprise, Vinny nods and acts like she hasn’t asked the bitchiest question of the night. “Sure.” You can do whatever you want, he’d said, as long as you do it by my side.

“And… Get rid of Jude.”

“What?”

“Jude. You remember why I picked that name?”

“Because of some fictional fairy queen that had the same name? You thought she was a conniving boss ass bitch and-”

“Shut up. Saint Jude. Patron saint of?”

Technically speaking, he hasn’t been wrong about the fairy queen bit. Unlike the suckers who fell for Cardan Greenbriar, Y Nhi’s wimpy ass was all in for Jude Duarte, mortal queen of the fae. And it was easier to admit that than to admit the truth that was dawning on Vinny’s face in 3… 2...

“Hopeless causes,” Vinny answers easily. Then his expression sobers. “Oh.”

Y Nhi nods. “But the me with you isn’t a hopeless cause. I don’t want her to be, anyway.”

There’s a lot that goes unsaid, but she’s certain Vinny hears it. Logically, she can’t keep relying on whatever instinct says, He’ll understand because he’s Vinny, but up to this point, it should work out okay.

Gently, he says, “Y Nhi,” reacquainting himself with the syllables of her given name. “Y Nhi.”

“Yes, Vinny?” She says just as gently.

He lowers his voice to a husky whisper, “You’ve never been a hopeless cause. You were a cause for hope.”

-

Vinny’s request is this: that Y Nhi teach him to be soft again.

The request makes her question if she and Vinny exist in the same dimension because who the hell convinced him he wasn’t soft? Hardened, prickly souls don’t master winged eyeliner for the sake of their loved ones. They don’t volunteer extra hours at Vacation Bible School while working graveyard shifts at the hospital. Don’t do the dishes because as much as they hate them, their roommate hates them more.

Vinny is soft, and Y Nhi is out for blood. “I need names, Vincent. And addresses if you have them.”

“My ex,” he says.

An awkward sound emerges from Y Nhi’s throat.

He raises an eyebrow at her. “What? I dated around. Didn’t think I should be hung up on you, but nothing ever went as planned. Anyway, my one ex did a really good job making me become someone I wasn’t. I didn’t like the person she made me, but it was kind of too late to turn around.”

Again, Y Nhi is confused. The narrative is promising, though, so she lets him continue in hopes that it’ll clear something up.

“If you don’t know me, how would you describe me?”

“Vinny.” She doesn’t have an answer, she just doesn’t want to say it. It’s not all good, and they just came back from an awkward fight. Was it a fight?

They’ve slipped back into their normal existence so easily. Nothing has changed, but at the same time, everything has.

“Just- The rings and the black and the tattoos. You’d think I drove a motorcycle or something, right?”

“You drive a Lexus. It’s the same in terms of your fuck boy vibes.”

“Y Nhi!”

“BMW would’ve sealed the deal. How many Hennessys do you drink a night, again?”

A pout settles on his face. She likes this version of him. “I see you get my point. I look like a baddie.”

“Yeah. Bad at life.”

“I swear to god.”

“Don’t do that, that’s a sin. Don’t use the lord’s name in vain and all.”

“Anyway. You of all people know I am soft, actually. She didn’t like that. And so I gained a second personality and-”

It’s rude, the way Y Nhi interrupts, but Vinny doesn’t seem to mind at all. “So if you’re always soft, what’s left for me to help you with?”

“You’ll see,” he says. “Actually. No, I’m going to tell you. I get embarrassed about my relationships. So if it ever looks like I’m pushing you away… I’m just really fucking embarrassed, at least for this first stage. Do what you will with that.”

- bonus/epilogue -

They return home for Y Nhi’s mom’s birthday. They’ve always rode home together, since they are neighbors no matter where they are. No one finds it odd that they hold hands more than before, that Y Nhi is still averse to touching everyone but him.

They appear at social events hanging on each other’s arms. Commentary about their status as a “married couple” breeze over their heads, but they never confirm nor deny anything. In public, they remain aloof to each other. They show tenderness in only the smallest of gestures.

In private, they are as they ever were. Vinny still does her eyeliner on her bad days, but now she cuddles him on the couch on his bad days. Between the two of them, there are a lot of bad days, days when they almost threw in the towel.

But they didn’t. Instead, they’ve introduced all manner of pet names (Vinny’s favorites to use are love, darling, and lately, em. Y Nhi’s favorites are Vinny and anh). They write songs to each other, for each other, with each other. Every morning, they make the choice to keep loving each other the way they have since they were fifteen - and while they joke that they wasted so much time, it was a necessary time for them to spend apart to learn how to exist together and how to choose each other even when it’s the harder choice than letting go.

Even I get lonely too

It’s not hard

Every question’s got an answer

And mine is you

Where you go then I will follow

All my life

You’re the name that I will whisper to the night

[pbscore]

This is more of an inspiration/aesthetic blog now, with some posts about important topics or opinions from time to time.

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Hate mail gets ignored and if I don't like your vibe, you get blocked.🤡

[kaypeace21]

i’m a survivor too, and i found that certain scenes/stuff will said just really struck me as ‘csa-survivor’-like? i felt a bit uncomfortable about headcanoning it happening to someone else, especially for a fandom as wild as this one, but your metas have really been a comfort to me because they’ve been able to pick out and explain things that i couldn’t necessarily find the words for myself.

and yeah, i would love to have a character like me that is powerful and who finds love and who gets a happy ending. the people who call the theory disgusting always kinda hit wrong with me because although csa is a difficult subject, we shouldn’t be ashamed about sharing it. they sound like they’re trying to say that it’s a bad topic to talk about and implying that it can’t happen to kids, which uhhhhh-

(i’m sure that’s not what they mean, precisely, but it’s still what they sound like, and i wish that they would stop implying that we can’t exist, especially in popular media. we do, and i’m not gonna pretend we don’t, and if they feel uncomfortable with the topic they can just use the block button. we deserve to have some well written representation just as much as anyone else. also, i really really hope that will gets a happy ending.)

anywayyyy i love your theories and i can see your post in the tag so i think you’re fine?? have a good day ❤️❤️❤️

SORRY, this ask took so long to respond to. It always warms my heart to hear other survivors speak and say they found comfort in my theory.

Yes, I think I and a lot of c*a/r*pe victims (subconscious or otherwise) were triggered by some of the symbolism/visuals in s1-3. And s3 made it hard for most of us to ignore the past imagery- since s3 wasn’t as subtle.

I get why people have reservations about the theory. But the debates to the contrary are usually just plain offensive. Or people trying to be respectful but being the opposite. There’s the obvious bad-apples . I got many anons after part 1 of my DID theory saying it “ruined/tainted byler”, and “if that happened to Will i’ll stop shipping byler” , or that it  “ruins the best gay character” ,  and to “remove the post immediately”. And this was when I was open about being a gay c*a victim. I obviously blocked them. Many survivors don’t come forward because they’re afraid people will see them as “tainted”, “ruined”, “ just their trauma”, or blame them for what happened. So yeah, it pisses me off when people say similar stuff about Will (and thus other c*a victims). Not even diving into the messed up psychology about byler/mileven shippers (knowing i was a lesbian c*a victim) but purposely spreading bs rumors about me being a p*do that was into Will/Noah-all because of the theory. -_-

Then there’s the people who try to be “respectful” but literally do the opposite.

I’ve heard numerous times it’s somehow “less offensive” to just use r*pe imagery to make monsters scary. Rather than have  the monsters have that imagery cause Will created the monsters from his memory/imagination-and st is a story of Will healing from that trauma. SORRY- I disagree. Using the worst experiences of peoples’ lives (and triggering their trauma) for no real purpose- except to make their monsters scarier to the normal/general audience who haven’t gone through it so won’t be triggered like us - is MORE OFFENSIVE to victims! NOT LESS! At least to me.

Then there’s the people who say “c*a should never be talked about (in stories).” Which I disagree with. V*ctims have already been told by ab*ser’s  and enablers of the ab*ser- to never talk about what happened to us  . So it rubs A LOT of us the wrong way when people say this.  Because (subconscious or not) you remind some of us of the people who used to hurt/silence us. People say this -simply for their convenience (like ab*sers) and cause deep down they’re uncomfortable with our existence and equate the despicable act to us the innocent v*ctim ...or just want to deny the horrible reality of the situation (like many enablers who deny the truth and hurt us because they don’t want to accept reality) . And 1) It brings us back to a time where they told us to NEVER talk about it- and makes us feel like we did something wrong when we didn’t! 2) Every psych professional says with-holding/keeping the ab*se a secret is detrimental to our mental health.

Plus, there’s a HUGE difference between sugarcoating/minimizing trauma or WORSE glamorizing, condoning, or romanticizing C*A in stories (ex: pretty little liars) VS showing how the action is wrong, causes trauma, but showing recovery and happiness is still possible for v*ctims.  if the story shows how accurately traumatizing it is (instead of minimizing/glamorizing it)- it’s incredibly rare for that character to get a happy ending. Having a story about recovering from that type of trauma and finding happiness despite such hardships would be amazing for US survivors! We rarely get stories with a happy ending-  it’s more harmful to us survivors to never see ourselves get happy endings in tv/film/books. How can some survivors (in a dark place) think there’s a light at the end of the tunnel- if it’s never shown?Also if Will has DID too- it’s good mental health rep, along with queer rep (and survivor’s rep.) All 3 groups rarely are treated well or get happy endings in media. A lot of people may feel more heard, seen, and a bit more hopeful for the future - If Will (and other characters) get a happy ending.

And even though st has many themes- like say homophobia. To try and hand-wave all the disturbing  r*pe imagery away  as ‘Will is just gay so the monsters are like that”. IS SOOOOOO offensive. Trigger warning for examples. I’m sorry what part of Max saying when Billy had c*nsensual s*x it’s “good screams” but when possessed by the mf he causes Heather to do “bad screams” read as gay???! Having the possessed ch*ke/dr*g people before throwing them in trunks (like it’s implied Lonnie did to Will -since Jonathan checked Lonnie’s trunk for Will in s1)?Tying their arms and legs up/ g*ging  them and  getting on top of them and saying “stay VERY still it’ll all be over soon”-before a monster shoves it’s tentacle into someone’s mouth and inserts a goo - just gay??? Similar to the sentient vine/shadow monster forcing itself down Will’s throat. Let alone Will saying things like “he made me do it”, “i felt it everywhere”, or being tied to a bed and screaming “help! stop! it hurts! let me go!” While Jonathan is the only one who’s visibly triggered by this and has to literally turn away and hug someone . Or barb, billy, and El spiting up a white liquid from their mouth (similar to will spitting up a slug and lying to his mother about it ).El/billy touching a suspicious looking slime with their hand and looking at the substance confused . El drawing Papa with 3 legs (the middle one being shorter) ,  trying to undress in front of the boys , and Benny saying “I think she’s been ab*sed or something”.The theme of ab*sive dads- brenner , Lonnie, and Neil . Even when the demogorgan (called in d&d the “deep father”/ in the show “a man without a face”) attacked Barb it’s chopped up with scenes of Nancy having c*nsensual sex (the monsters are doing the opposite symbolically). There’s way more examples but NO- to try and hand wave /equate ALL OF THIS to just “gay imagery” or an “a*ds metaphor” is WAY more problematic. And just offensive (specifically to gay people) than just admitting what it may actually represent. R*pe imagery and gay imagery is NOT THE SAME THING!

Also ST has never been a kid show- maybe rewatch the show and see the rating of tv-14 . Goodness sake- s1 has a st*ged su*icde, k*dnappings, m*rder, discussions of physics, h*mophobia, and s*x (with stancy in s1 & jancy in s2-s3). S2/3 discuss at their finalies recovering from tra*ma . S2 had gra*ic de*ths,  a man causing a women br*in damage/ and faking her m*scarriage, and a gang of vigalantes k*lling criminals. s3 had critiques on capitalism /media/s*xism, many d*eaths, and questionable imagery like the prior seasons. The Duffers constantly reference  movies & events from the 80s (capitalizing on 80s nostalgia /subverting 80s motifs that middle age people  from that time remember)! Those people were their intended age demographic . Most 80s centric refs go over most kids’ heads (heck a lot went over my head too since I wasn’t alive in the 80s XD).The Duffers even said in the book “worlds turned upsidedown”  “it’s not a kid’s show despite having kids”. And maybe it’s a coincidence but when Lucas in s3 hands Will the “devil’s baby” firework (a hint about Lonnie) he says “18 and over only.” Which idk is a weird/random af line unless it’s foreshadowing that the show will get darker about various themes- and maybe even change ratings.

I get people wishing nothing bad ever happened to Will or Jonathan. And being apprehensive and not trusting the Duffers to do such a story justice (cause it’s difficult to do). But personally i trust them to do so tastefully with tact and not be exp*itative, (overly gr*fic) or offensive to v*ctims. You can disagree and think the show is about something else (or not trust the Duffers)- but it’d be great if people could stop using these other messed up talking points. While trying to appear ‘(fake) woke’ and like they care for victims- cause we see through it that you really don’t.

Have a lovely day anon ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Update- I just really agreed with and appreciate the tags in this reblog

[bucksblr]

tagged by @leonzhng​ thanks for making me dig through my most embarrassing crushes 😭✋

i’ll tag @highwarlockkareena​ @yibobibo​ @lan-xichens​ @purplexedhuman​ @aheartfullofjolllly​ @lanzhansmiles​ @nyx4​ i feel like i tag you guys in everything i am so sorry please ignore this if u don’t wanna do it !!

putting this under a read more for reasons

MEN 2010 – 2016

literally nothing more embarrassing than falling on the same type of white man over and over again (with the exception of minho from shinee bless his heart)

tommy joe ratliff → he was the bass player for adam lambert during his glamnation era (think of songs like for your entertainment and if i had you) idk why exactly i liked him so much but i just did.... however i searched him up again quite recently and found out he’s one of those republicans that says the dumbest shit on twitter so Big Yikes

harry styles → “baby you light up my world like nobody else, the way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed, and when you smile at the ground it ain’t hard to tell...” and BOOM 13-year-old me was sold for well over two years

louis tomlinson → basically i liked harry most until around 2013 when for some reason i started to like him a little less, and i got more focused on louis tomlinson, and although i didn’t like one direction anymore louis tomlinson always had a special place in my heart

ashton irwin → so ashton is 5sos’ drummer, i discovered 5sos through one direction & i stanned them until late 2014

harries twins → the harries twins (jack & finn) are basically the reason i started spending a lot of time on youtube, they were funny and pretty and they just had good videos in general, so for almost two years i’d watch their content regularly

choi minho → my first steps into kpop happened bc i was watching videos on youtube (most probably the harries twins) and suddenly i saw the sherlock mv in my recommended videos so i clicked on it and then 14-year-old me proceeded to fall for minho like an idiot

brooks twins → still youtubers, the brooks twins were 3/5 of the janoskians (jai & luke brooks, beau brooks, daniel sahyounie, & james yammouni), an australian youtube comedy group that was active from 2011-2018 though i was only around from 2012-2014 (when jai brooks was dating ariana grande)

jc caylen → surprise! another youtuber! jc caylen was part of o2l (our2ndlife) a youtube collaboration channel on which each of the 6 members posted videos on a certain day in the week (mondays with connor, tuesdays with ricky, wednesdays with sam, thursdays with jc, fridays with trevi (my 2nd favorite member bc she participated on the x factor), saturdays with ricardo, and then they had surprise sundays every week) and i remember how much joy jc & the others always brought me with their silly videos

misha collins → up next, you might know him as the gay angel that was sent to superhell after confessing his love to the homophobic hunter on supernatural, it’s misha collins! basically misha was a huge source of comfort for me, and i even went around calling myself emmisha for almost two full years (cringe)

henrik holm → he played even bech naesheim in skam and my crush on him reached that level of ridiculousness where i actually tried my hand at learning norwegian (i can only remember how to introduce myself and some curse words i would make a great first impression on him)

MEN 2016 – 2021

min yoongi → okay so my baby steps into kpop happened through shinee’s sherlock, but i only got really invested when yoongi dropped agust d 1 because Holy Fuck y’know??

kim namjoon → oh man i remember thinking namjoon was cute and a very good leader and then BAM he dressed like THAT at the 2016 mma’s and i fell in love. hard

park seojoon → i started liking park seojoon whilst i was watching hwarang (you guessed it, i watched it bc of taehyung), although he wasn’t my favorite character by far, but he was very silly off camera & i liked that (i’m not that into him anymore tho </3)

kim seokjin → OH BOY LET ME TELL U i liked seokjin from the very beginning (i got to know bts in late 2014) and i always liked seeing him perform and be himself and god once i realized i had a crush on him it just hit me like a mf truck, and he’s still one of my favorite people to this day

jung hoseok → god fake love era hoseok really hits different.... also yes i know i have all of bts’ hyung line on my list BUT bts was a really big part of my life for almost 6 years soooo honestly they deserve it i still think they’re great guys

choi san → when ateez made their debut in 2018 i immediately fell in love with san, he was such an amazing dancer and he captivated me right from the very beginning, to this day he’s still my bias in ateez uwu

xiao zhan → AND THEN, OCTOBER OF 2019 HAPPENS AND I WATCH CQL AND... i fall in love with xiao zhan, something i’d never expected would happen bc when i watched cql for the first time i wasn’t as invested in the story, but i really really really liked xiao zhan and one thing led to another and now here i am as a xfx

wang yibo → the thing is, i’ve known yibo since eoeo except i didn’t know cql yibo was uniq yibo (bc i’d forgotten his name) and when i looked it up i can tell you my jaw dropped to the floor bc holy shit????? also he is very silly and i love him loads ok

lee minho → ah, the man who has been my skz bias since 2018, not only is minho my bias i also kin him (there’s a lot of aspects of myself that i see in minho and vice versa) and he’s very comforting to me

bang chan → honestly, it was only a matter of time before i’d fall for bang chan, i knew the moment i got into skz again that i’d start biasing him and, well, here i am, double biasing chan & minho

WOMEN

this list is shorter bc i’ve in general always had less crushes on women than on men??? blame society forcing me into thinking i was straight for a LONG time

ariana grande → remember the 2011 layout of twitter?? where u could not only have an icon and a header, but also a background and ur twitter page was smack in the center of ur screen with the big ugly menu bar at the top??? yeah ariana grande was always my background for my l*rr* st*l*n*s*n layouts

perrie edwards → this was right around the time she was dating zayn & little mix was breaking out into the spotlight, yeah i just really loved her

andrea russett → okay so remember o2l?? andrea russett was kian’s girlfriend for a pretty long time and they always did videos together and i always thought she was super pretty

lily collins → maybe i don’t like clary in tmi all that much but i sure liked the way lily collins looked

alona tal → MY BISEXUAL AWAKENING, it’s only when i saw alona tal in spn that i realized, fuck i might be gay

park jihyo → i discovered twice (my 2nd jype group after day6) through the like ooh-ahh mv and red-haired jihyo really did something to my heart (i just rewatched it and god zombie bang chan is so mf cute)

kim jisoo → when bp made their square two comeback i was immediately smitten for red-haired jisoo in playing with fire, it’s also when i realized she was my bias out of the four members

shin ryujin → the reason that i have blue hair is partially bc of ryujin and her amazing intro in wannabe :D

xuan lu → her portrayal of jiang yanli was SO ON POINT and she’s just such a kindhearted wonderful person wow i want her hand in marriage

lee yoobin → god i’ve known dreamcatcher from back when they were still called minx and ever since i’ve always looked at dami that bit more than the rest, i was also able to see dreamcatcher live in october of 2019 and the whole experience was just so amazing !!

FICTIONAL CHARACTERS

there’s a whole lot more than just these 10 but i wanted to fit the evolution into one (1) slide as best as i could lmao

peter pan → this movie came out in 2003 (?) and he’s honestly the first fictional character i remember ever having a crush on

legolas → i was really doubting between placing haldir or legolas here but i only really got a vague haldir obsession when i was like 14

zuko → LOOK. ZUKO IN ATLA? HOT. ZUKO IN LOK? HOT EVEN IF HE’S AN OLD MAN.

will turner → man was annoying sometimes but i really liked him and his relationship with elizabeth was cute

jo harvelle → gosh i can’t believe she’s the only female character in here???? yeah she was one of my two spn faves and i’ll never forgive the screenwriters for the way they killed her off

castiel → does your fave ever get sent to super hell for being gay? no? well. mine did

kili → fili and kili’s storyline tore my heart out, spit on it, and then laughed straight in my face, KILI WAS LITERALLY MY FAVORITE DWARF

howl → i only watched this movie for the first time in 2020 so i kinda fucked up the tl cause i watched cql in 2019 but shh, anyways howl with his blonde hair was good looking but howl with his black hair just hits differently. i want a howl

lan jingyi → MY BABY BOY, TINIE LITTLE BABIE WHOMST I MUST PROTECT ok no but seriously this kid. i love him a lot

mu qing → BARK BARK. that’s all (that’s not all i love him a whole lot and it hurts me to see so many people misunderstand his character and only see the bad parts of him when they can forgive others for fucking up (eg. xie lian himself & feng xin) but bc mu qing doesn’t deal well with emotions suddenly he’s the bad guy??? i s2g if ppl are gonna do to him what they did to jiang cheng in the tgcf la i will RIOT)

[keeptheotherone]

I posted 420 times in 2021

65 posts created (15%)

355 posts reblogged (85%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 5.5 posts.

I added 393 tags in 2021

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Longest Tag: 64 characters

#actually gave this advice working covid vaccine clinic last week

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Wanna Know a Secret?

Tell me the one fic you associate with keeptheotherone, and I’ll tell you a secret about that story.

16 notes • Posted 2021-05-22 20:00:48 GMT

#4

Ok so this is going to sound very specific 🤪! Do you have any more info to feed us on the referenced incident in Consequences when Ginny passed out at Shell Cottage and discovered she was pregnant with Lily??? It’s such an excellent detail in that fic, and because I’m an evil person I would love to see Harry panic a little bit! Either way, thanks for your stories— they’re obviously so memorable that I’ve remembered details like these!

Thanks, Dusk!

Yep. Harry was outside with the boys and Ginny and her sisters-in-law inside. Just a typical Weasley-Potter family event; we'll say Hallowe'en. Ginny is sort of vaguely not feeling well; nothing significant, nothing she's mentioned to Harry, but her fellow females notice and everyone decides she's either eaten too many sweets or approaching that time of the month (Molly's grandmother antennae are buzzing, but she doesn't say anything).

So Ginny's on the floor playing with her littlest nieces and nephews when she stands up--sways--and goes down again. Lots of exclaiming and rushing to rescue babies out from under her. Hermione goes straight for the back door: "Harry! It's Ginny!" and there's something urgent in her voice. Our hero tosses his then-youngest into the nearest pair of arms (say, Percy's) and bolts for the house.

We know Harry's a fast runner; later some of the Weasley men will claim Harry beat Hermione back into the sitting room. At any rate, he skids into the doorway, women and children part for him like Charlton Heston, and Ginny is just starting to stir when he kneels at her side.

Chaos is compounded by the arrival of multiple over-protective brothers, all of whom are ordering the others to Floo St. Mungo’s and get a Healer here, right the hell now! Molly Weasley steps around her crying grandchildren, pats Harry reassuringly, and asks her only daughter,

“Ginny, dear, could you be pregnant?”

And that’s how the world found out about the impending arrival of Miss Lily Luna Potter.

17 notes • Posted 2021-05-26 19:29:49 GMT

#3

Do You Promise?

Chapter 1 of a new WIP, just for you, my Tumblrers <3

August 1999 the Burrow’s garden Weasleys’ 2nd Annual End of Summer Celebration

Charlie Weasley sat on the fence separating his mother’s vegetable patch from the garden, thinking about the last time he’d sat here, one year ago. Then it had been Bill at his side, not his little sister.

“Knut for your thoughts,” she said, pushing herself up.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

Ginny raised her brows at the implication of his answer but didn’t tease. “Around.”

“Mmm.” He’d been home for more than twenty-four hours, but he hadn’t seen Potter once. At Christmas, they’d been a package deal, never out of arm’s reach of the other. “I thought he might have had to work.”

Ginny shook her head, pigtails dancing round her shoulders like they had when she was shorter than this fence. “Today and tomorrow, but not tonight. Mum made them promise.”

By “them,” Charlie knew she meant Ron and Harry. But … Mum made them promise? Not Ginny, or even Hermione?

“Well, he’d better show up,” Charlie said, taking a drink of his beer. “He owes me a rematch.”

They had played Quidditch in the orchard last year, he and Ginny and Potter and George and a bunch of kids he hadn’t known. Played past sunset into darkness, until Professor McGonagall ended the pick-up match without a capture of the Snitch.

Ginny muttered something that sounded like “he owes me a hell of a lot more than a rematch,” but Charlie let it slide. Ginny could take care of herself.

He and Bill had made sure of it.

“Shouldn’t you be with your friends?” 

“Thanks, Charlie, that means a lot.” She swiped the bottle from his loose grasp and drank.

Charlie had to remind himself she was of age to keep from overreacting, but even so, his hand twitched reflexively.

Ginny saw it and smirked round the glass, tipping her head back and the bottle up, taking several long swallows just for show.

“Yeah, you can have my beer, Sis. I’ll just get another, no problem.”

She finished with a pop and licked the foam from her upper lip before handing it back. “Thirsty.”

Charlie held the bottle up to the light—there was exactly one swallow left. “Brat.”

Ginny was predictably unfazed, gazing over the crowd starting to assemble round the food tables. “I talked to Angelina. She said Alicia couldn’t make it this year.”

“Who?” Charlie said, right as a picture of a perky brunette, with equally perky … anatomy … popped into his mind. Shit. Alicia wasn’t avoiding the party because of him, was she? The same age as George, she would know most of the people attending tonight. He’d thought they parted on good terms, all things considered….

“I thought you might be watching for Amy.”

“Amy’s coming?” He hadn’t seen Amy Green since he had invited himself back to her room and she politely declined. 

“Fleur wasn’t sure,” Ginny said casually, as if she hadn’t just dangled fairy lights in front of a niffler. “She said she encouraged her to come since she sounded a little down, but Amy didn’t commit. I hope she does, don’t you?”

“Of course. I haven’t seen Amy since the memorial. It would be good to catch up.” Charlie took a subtle deep breath, repeating the mantra he told himself when he occasionally woke with her on his mind. You asked, and Amy said no. It doesn’t matter if she isn’t seeing anyone. She’s still unavailable, Weasley. No benefits, just friends.

“I remember, you know. You think I was too young to understand, but I remember. In Egypt.”

Charlie scoffed. His baby sister celebrated her twelfth birthday the summer his family had visited Bill in Cairo. “Oh, yeah? And what do you think you remember, Gin-Gin?”

“I know Bill was an arse,” she said bluntly.

See the full post

21 notes • Posted 2021-05-26 04:31:05 GMT

#2

I’m writing again ... sorta. Going back through some old docs and pulling out scenes and outtakes to add to One Big Happy Weasley Family and Postscripts, so you’ll see some new posts with alternate POVs, dialogue drabbles, and the like over the weekend with a focus on my Eighth Year Hinny/Romione/Weasley boys stuff.

28 notes • Posted 2021-01-23 04:20:42 GMT

#1

So, I did manage to come up with some new fic after all! In celebration of my 10th(!) fanfic anniversary. 

Vic 17/ Dom 16/ Molly 14

7th year/6th year /4th year

the Burrow

December 23rd, 2017

Ginny pushed open the door to the Burrow’s kitchen, intent on chivvying her three oldest nieces to bed.

“ … you’ll just know,” Molly was saying. “The heart always knows.”

“Oh, Molly,” Dominique said, and patted her arm.

“What do you know about it?” Molly retorted. “Your heart doesn’t even remember who it fancied last Tuesday.”

“Before or after lunch?”

“What do you think, Aunt Ginny?” Victoire asked before the squabble could escalate into an argument. “How do you know when you’re in love, forever love? Molly thinks there will be some mystical connection—”

“I said magical, not mystical—”

“And Dom’s insisting you have to sleep with the other person before you can know for certain. What about you?”

Well, this was vastly more interesting than the conversation in the sitting room, where Bill, Percy, and Hermione were arguing over the weekend’s bathroom timetable. Ginny pulled out a chair. She wasn’t above stirring the cauldron to find out more about Victoire and Teddy’s relationship. 

“Don’t look at me. I slept with Harry on our first date.”

“You did?” Three pairs of wide eyes stared back at her.

“Well, it was more than a year after our first kiss.”

“Why?” Dominique said.

“There was a war in there, remember. We were separated.”

The girls sobered and looked away from her, but Ginny didn’t mind. She was glad they could forget.

“But….” Victoire frowned, and Ginny could tell she was working out the timeline in her mind. “The war ended in ’98, but you and Uncle Harry got together while you were both still at Hogwarts, which would’ve had to have been 1996 or ’97….”

“1997,” Ginny said softly. “May 1997, after the Ravenclaw match.”

“And the war ended May second, Vic’s birthday,” Dominique said. “So, why more than a year?”

Ginny traced one of the scars on her mother’s scrubbed wood table. “Because I screwed things up when he came back.”

All three of her nieces looked vastly interested. 

“What happened?” Molly asked.

Ginny sighed. “You have to understand, it was a horrible year. Death Eaters teaching at Hogwarts, dark magic in detention…. Professor Longbottom and I ran the resistance on our own after Christmas because our friend Luna was kidnapped, and I couldn’t go back to school after Easter holiday because we all—the whole family, except for Charlie—had to go into hiding after Harry, Ron, and Hermione were captured.”

The girls gasped.

“They escaped the same night, but that was the first news we’d had of them in months, since they broke into the Ministry at the beginning of September.”

“Aunt Hermione broke into the Ministry of Magic?” Victoire said.

See the full post

44 notes • Posted 2021-05-24 20:03:07 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[pickledeyes]

I posted 11,311 times in 2021

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My Top Posts in 2021

#5

idk i just think that the writers started up an interesting plotline w sam where he could become a leader of hunters and also lean in to being a witch since rowena left him everything, and instead they gave him a son he named after his abusive brother and a blurry wife and depression until he died.

36 notes • Posted 2021-01-06 19:37:26 GMT

#4

how did i just have a tik tok with the “your constant harrassment of the female gender makes me sick” sound for dean but the caption says “this is not a dean crit post” and comments the creator liked were talking abt hating how dean treats women *only in the early seasons* AND that they all think he’s actually a feminist and chuck made him sexist…

actually nvm i know exactly how that happened bc d*an st*ns never wanna admit he’s just a bad guy lmfao

39 notes • Posted 2021-08-23 12:01:50 GMT

#3

if dean was played by someone “ugly” then he would have been the most hated character on spn.

129 notes • Posted 2021-02-01 00:05:16 GMT

#2

im thinking abt how season 12 implied that cas was just gonna raise jack by himself in a random cabin since he and kelly knew she wouldnt survive jack’s birth. and how n much id rather have seen that than watch dean winchester traumatize a baby lmfao

165 notes • Posted 2021-01-11 18:43:16 GMT

#1

no ill never get over the spn fandom choosing Dean “Toxic Masculinity is my middle name” Winchester as the show’s gay instead of Sam “I Am Diseased Since Childhood, I want to run from my family who won’t accept that I’m different from them, I Am A Monster” Winchester.

184 notes • Posted 2021-04-20 01:55:30 GMT

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[jamesashtonisbae]

The Cardinal Rules of Basketball . . . with Bryce Lahela

Word Count: 2172

Pairing: Bryce x MC (Bentley Rogers)

Rating: Mature 

Warnings: Language, allusions to sexual content

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Pixelberry studios. 

Author’s Note: Yo, does anyone else miss Bryce Lahela? Yeah same.We all know Bryce is a goddamn king, so it comes as no surprise that he loves Women’s Basketball like a real man should. Can guarantee no one was happier than our guy when the Stanford Cardinal got the W in March Madness. Tagging @mrskvall because of the photo of Bryce in the championship shirt!

Bentley Rogers sauntered over to Bryce with a flirtatious smile on her lips. She hadn’t seen him outside of work for a few weeks, and she missed him. As much as she wanted to say she missed Bryce the person, today she was mainly missing Bryce the sex god. She hadn’t enjoyed his “company” outside of work in a long time. And god, was she horny.

 So she leaned against the nurses station, batting her eyelashes, “Hey there stud, got any plans for tonight?” she let her hand fall on his forearm, gently stroking it with her long nails.

 He laughed, looking down at her trying her best to seduce him, “Ah, actually I do.”

“Well maybe you should take a raincheck . . . because I promise you, it’s guaranteed to be wet. Well, I am.”

 “Hmm, you’re doing a good job flirting today, B, but there’s no way to raincheck this one.”

 “How can you have plans you can’t raincheck? Do you really not want to spend time with me? I’ve been practicing my breathing in yoga lately, so I can give a blowjob way better than I used to. And if your reactions are anything to go by, I was pretty good before . . . .”

 “Bentley Rogers, nice try, but I can’t raincheck it because it’s the most important basketball game of the year.”

 “It’s April, basketball doesn’t get important until like June.”

 “Bentley, as a strong woman yourself, I would think what you consider “basketball” would be a bit broader than the NBA.”

 Bentley hadn’t watched a basketball game in ages, but she did recall the Stanford Cardinal had made the National Championship.

 “Ah,” she said. “College basketball.”

 “You can join if you want, but I have to warn you, I’m worse about watching basketball than I am at playing it. I’m not a nice guy.”

 “Oh, would you say you’re a bit . . . aggressive?”

 “Mmm, you don’t know the half of it,” he leaned down and nipped her lip quickly, so quick no one watching would notice. “But if you want, you and your friends can come watch it at my place.”

 “No offense, but your place is super small. What about if you come to my place and we all watch it together, and then after we can have some victory sex?”

 “Not an Arizona fan?”

 “Not that, just a happy Bryce fan.”

 “You’re a good woman, Bentley Rogers.”

 “Well, Bryce Lahela, what food can I get for tonight? Anything you want, after all, Bloom doesn’t pay me the big bucks to get you cheap pizza.”

 “Mmm, wings, nachos, those types of things. Even bad pizza.”

 “Well consider yourself treated. It’s at five, right?”

 He nodded, “You don’t have to do this, Bentley. That’s so nice of you.”

 “If I’m honest, I’m doing this because I’m horny as fuck and I need you, really bad.”

 “So I am just a piece of meat to you, Rogers, aren’t I?”

 She laughed, then turned serious, squeezing his forearm, “Not even close.”

 ...

 Later that night, Bentley had changed into a pair of leggings and a plain red sweatshirt. Every time she had tried to steal Bryce’s Stanford hoodie, he stole it back the next time they slept together. This was one of those times when he had taken it back. She smiled at the thought of getting it back eventually, and then eventually just living in the same place as both Bryce and the hoodie.

 But they weren’t official. She had no idea why, he hadn’t brought it up in three years, so maybe he didn’t want it. Even after she almost died, he didn’t make a move to lock it down, but god did she want to. If she was honest, she was in love with him. She had been since the night she met Keiki and he opened up about his life. And maybe, just maybe, after his team won the national championship, it would be a good time to tell him.

 She took a seat next to Bryce, who was watching the pregame festivities. Everyone else was in the kitchen, gabbing and eating.

 “Nervous?” she asked, taking his hand in hers.

 “Yeah. We haven’t won one since 92, and I wasn’t even a fan yet.”

 “Were you even alive yet?”

 “No.”

 “Who is your favorite player?”

 Bryce smiled over at her, rambling on about Anna Wilson and Kiana Williams. She listened to him happily. His face was lit up, and she thought it was really cute that he was so excited about this women’s basketball game. And about his team in general. She thought he was adorable all the time, but right now he was at his most adorable.

 As he was talking, hands waving around animatedly, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He stopped abruptly, “What was that for?”

 “You’re just so cute.”

 He blushed and returned the kiss on her cheek.

 “Well that was about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Sienna said coming over and taking a seat by Bentley. Raf sat down next to Sienna, balancing a plate filled with food.

 Bentley stood up, “Quack quack. Bryce you want anything?”

 He nodded and she went over to fill up two plates, then dropped them off with Bryce before grabbing a couple of beers for them. She sat down, cheersed him, and then dug into the wings she had piled high on her plate. Bryce set his down and didn’t touch it for the entire first quarter. He just leaned forward with his head in his hands and didn’t pay attention to anything else. After the game was at the first quarter break, he leaned back and started eating finally. Bentley wrapped her arm around his shoulder and kissed his cheek.

 “They got this, baby. Don’t worry.”

 “Oh I’m worried. Very worried.”

 “Well, I’ll let you be worried. But if you ever don’t want to hold your own hand and need mine, I’m here. I can’t fix it for you, but I can be right here beside you.”

 “I appreciate it, but it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better.”

 “Okay, I’m here. You sat by my side when I was literally dying, I can sit beside you now.”

 “You’re nice, but I’m going to be really mean if it stays close.”

 “I can take it, Bryce. Also I don’t believe you’ll ever be mean to me, you lo-like me too much.”

 “Hmm, I guess I probably won’t. But it’s not going to be pretty,” he leaned over and kissed her lip gently. She smiled and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

 “Do whatever you need to do, Bry. I’m here with you, even if you get mad. Even if you get mad at me. Maybe not if you get mad at Elijah, but otherwise I’m here for you.”

 “I could never be mad at Elijah, that kid is way too nice.”

 Elijah wasn’t paying attention, he had his laptop out on his lap, going over some of his research. Everyone else looked over at him and he finally noticed what was happening and joined back in for a few minutes, at least until halftime.

 Bryce was a bit calmer at halftime, taking a few more bites of his food, then putting his arm around Bentley as they watched the halftime show. She smiled softly, leaning into Bryce and letting him hold her. Even this she had missed. He was the guy she wanted to be with all the time. Just being next to him watching tv was preferable to going out and being hit on by other guys, who may be hot, but just weren’t Bryce. He was her best friend.

 She looked up at him watching the analysts intently. He was hanging on Carolyn Peck’s every word and she let out a giggle, drawing his attention.

 “What?”

 “I like this side of you.”

 “You do?”

 “Yeah. It’s cute to see you nerding out over women’s sports. I think it’s the mark of a good man to care about women’s sports if you say you like men’s sports too.”

 “It’s a lot of fun to watch. I went to more women’s sporting games at Stanford than men’s. What were we even good at? Maybe we pretended to be good at football, but I don’t think we really were.”

 “Well it’s cute regardless of why.”

 “You’re cute,” he said, giving her a gentle kiss. “I appreciate you watching this with me. I’ll get worse before I get better.”

 He was right. With five seconds left, Bryce was at his worst. He was standing up and pacing between the couch and the windows. Bentley knew the ball was going to be in Aari McDonald’s hands, it was just going to come down to if she made the shot or not. And in the end, she didn’t.

 Before Bentley could even process what had happened, Bryce had picked her up and swung her around. She was laughing, he was cheering, and everyone else was smiling. Bentley did like McDonald, but she liked Bryce more, so she was happy.

 Bryce cheered and celebrated, then calmed down to watch all the interviews and post-game coverage, but everyone else who didn’t have work the next day started making plans to go out.  Bentley glanced over at Bryce, who was engrossed in the television.

 “I think we’ll maybe catch up later,” Bentley said, Bryce having no clue what was going on at all. He kept watching attentively after everyone left and she leaned her head against his shoulder. Eventually he realized she was there and settled back into the corner, tugging her closer so she was cuddled up with him. She slung her legs over his knees and let him pull her up so she was almost on his lap.

 The tv moved on and started talking about other things, and Bryce’s attention turned solely to her, “Do you want to catch up with everyone else?”

 She shook her head, “No. I just want to be with you.”

 He grinned, then reached under her knees and picked her up. They headed over to her room and he deposited her onto the bed, then jumped in and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

 “Today all I wanted to do was sleep with you, but now all I want to do is talk to you. I’ve missed you loads Bryce.”

 He smiled softly, tenderly running his hand over her hair, “I’ve missed you too. I don’t like only seeing you for a few minutes at work. I need you to be in my life more than that.”

 “I need to be in your life more than that, too. I hate this.”

 “So what do we do to fix it?”

 She sighed, “We can pick days where I come over or where you come over, but that will get annoying really quickly.”

 “Well, no one lives with me. I wouldn’t need any approval for you to just, move in with me?”

 She grinned up at him, “You want me to move in with you?”

 He nodded, “You wouldn’t have to pay rent until your lease is up here. My parents send me more money than I need for Keiki and I know it’s because they want to pay for me and get me back in their lives. So I use that to pay for rent, so you not doing it wouldn’t be an issue.”

 “Bryce, are you really wanting me to move in with you?”

 He nodded, “Yeah, I am. Bentley, you’ve been my life saver since I came here. I’ve never had a relationship like the one I have with you. You’re such a good friend to me, and I can tell you have some sort of affection for me. I haven’t had these feelings before, Bentley. I love you.”

 “Bryce!” she exclaimed, tugging him closer to press her lips to his. They kissed passionately, letting each other get reacquainted with the other in this way. They hadn’t had a kiss like this anywhere but a supply closet for a really long time. And finally, she pulled away and said it back.

 “I love you, too, Bryce Lahela.”

 His grin was so wide as he met her lips again, “This is the best night of my life.”

 “I think it’s going to get better,” she said with a smile. “Although I just want to be with you, that victory sex does sound pretty good.”

 “Before we jump to that, think we should make you my girlfriend?”

 “Why not? Let’s go for the big three!”

 “Happy to. Bentley will you be my girlfriend?”

 She nodded, “Yes! Oh Bryce, I love you so much.”

 “I love you too.”

 “Now let me show you just how much,” she said, reaching for the waistband of Bryce’s sweats. He met her eyes with a mischievous grin and let her move down to where she most wanted to be.