#seriously kathy is the best

[stupid-cocoa]

okay what did i just walk in on

i love you kathy...

[nerdy-novelist017]

https://www.tumblr.com/nerdy-novelist017/754460919348740096/benny-cross-is-the-definition-of-scary-boyfriend

Ok yes but also I wanted him to protect Kathy so bad and it just. Never happened 💔💔

We can fix it with fanfiction ;) Enjoy another one shot to pair with my Benny x Bunny series! Again this isn't the next part, just a little idea I had!

Word Count-2.2k+

Summary- Head wounds look a lot worse than they actually are, at least that's what you were trying to tell Benny, but he was so worried, you doubt he's hearing you.

Warnings- Blood, Violence

Broken Glass (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

The bar was crowded. You’d never seen so many Vandals gathered in one place in a long time. With an abundance of fresh faces wearing the colors, it was almost like a completely new club. 

Your knee bounced as anxiety manifested itself into your body. You weren’t so nervous of the familiar faces that sat around your table. Johnny, Brucie, Gail, Kathy, Wahoo, Corky — those people no longer made you nervous. They were family now. It was all the onslaught of new Vandals that cursed, shouted and drank across the room. 

A warm hand encased your knee, pressing down, firmly locking your foot to the ground. You smiled as Benny leaned into you, his lips softly touching your neck in a gentle kiss. His way of calming your nerves. And it worked every time. 

“Alright, I’m gonna break the bad news to ‘em,” Johnny announced as he stood from his chair. The bad news was that some new members of the Vandals had been running up the tab at the bar and not paying for it. An entire week had gone by without them paying for any of their drinks — and they drank a lot.

Brucie stood next to him, cranking his neck to the side with a pop. “This oughta go over well.”

“It doesn’t have to be a fight,” Johnny muttered with a sigh. Despite running one of the most revered motorcycle clubs in the midwest, Johnny was surprisingly non confrontational at times. He knew what needed to be done, he just didn’t like having to do it. “Not everything has to be a fight. It’s just going to be a conversation.”

“Good luck!” you smiled, giving him a thumbs-up. 

“Thanks, kid,” Johnny answered with his usual reserved patience for you and the two left, weaving their way through the crowded room. Benny started to stand too, but you grabbed onto his arm, tugging firmly at his jacket sleeve.

“It’s not gonna be a fight, Benny. Please don’t make it a fight.” You pleaded quietly, giving him your best doe-eyed look that you knew could get you almost anything you wanted. 

“I ain’t gonna make it a fight,” Benny argued but reluctantly sat back down next to you. “I can be civil.”

History begged to differ, you wanted to say but instead lifted your cold bottle of pop to your lips in an excuse not to answer. You laced your fingers with his as you brought his arm back around your shoulder, anchoring him to you.

Minutes ticked by and you fell back into a conversation with Kathy and Gail while Benny’s attention remained focused on Johnny and the conversation across the crowded bar. Voices rose in shouting and suddenly Johnny was shoved back by one of the new Vandals members. Then fists started flying. 

“Shit,” Benny cursed and, quick as light, slid out from your booth and rushed across the bar to join the fight. You called after him hopelessly, your pleas falling on deaf ears. 

“You think these guys will ever think with their brains and not their dicks all the time?” Kathy asked sarcastically as she casually sipped at her beer.

The fight grew larger as more members of the club joined in, and you lost sight of Benny in the tumble. You bit your lip, eyes surveying the crowd anxiously. You hated to see him fight, having cried the first time you witnessed it. It was unfair that he put himself into danger like that, without a care in the world if he got seriously hurt. But that was a part of loving Benny; He was always ready to fight with the drop of a hat. 

“Oh no,” you gasped softly as you saw a man twice his size suddenly appear through the crowd, slamming Benny to the ground.

Standing quickly, you barely heard the warnings of Kathy and Gail for you to stay out of it over the pounding of your heart. You pushed your way through the crowd, desperate to get to Benny, to help him. Bodies knocked into you, sending your hip clashing hard against the pool table, but you continued on, stumbling as you went. 

Finally you caught sight of him again, this time on top of the other Vandal member, beating down on him mercilessly.

“Benny!” You called out for him, but your voice was lost in the ocean of noise. Your fingertips just barely grazed his shoulder before you were knocked back. 

Suddenly something connected with the side of your head, a sickening crashing sound, and you were knocked off your feet. White hot pain shot through your elbow as it was the first to hit the floor below you. You landed hard on your side, the wind knocked from your lungs prevented you from crying out. The side of your head erupted in hot pain from the impact and it took you a couple of seconds to even register that you were on the cold ground now.  

Your ears immediately rang as if you were standing right below a church bell during Sunday service, drowning out all other noise. But the rest of the bar seemed to freeze in shock when they saw you go down, all stunned to see their youngest member’s girl caught on the losing side of a fight. 

You blinked hard, vision filling with stars, but you were able to make out the broken glass littering the floor around you. It took you longer than necessary to understand that you had been hit on the side of your head with a beer bottle. Attempting to look up to see the person who hit you, a cry left your throat at the pain of moving your head

Then that’s when all hell broke loose for the second time in a ten minute span. Johnny appeared in your line of vision, throwing a nasty right hook against the blurry figure of the man who hit you. He went down and a crowd gathered around him, legs kicking and fists flying. 

You blinked hard again, feeling something warm running down into your right eye as Benny’s face suddenly materialized before you.

“B—Benny?” Your voice sounded so small and you hated the way you couldn’t tell if he was real or just an illusion of the person you wanted most when you were scared. 

“Oh my god.” His voice sounded strained and you wanted to ask him if he was okay, if he was hurt, but your body felt oddly disconnected from your mind.

He moved closer to you, the glass shards crunching beneath his boots, and he slid one hand behind your back and the other under your knees. Then suddenly you were being lifted in the air, carried away from the chaos of the bar. Benny used his boot to kick open the back door and a rush of cool breeze greeted you first as he relocated you to Kathy’s pickup truck in the back parking lot. Pausing at the rear of the truck, he used the hand under your knees to lower the tailgate. He placed you into a sitting position on the bed of the truck, stepping between your legs, his face is right back in front of yours again. 

The afternoon sun hanging low in the west gave you enough light to inspect his face for any injuries. There’s a split forming on his bottom lip. You reached forward and touched the injury with a fingertip, trying to gauge the severity. He would need to put ice on it before the swelling started. Although you can’t find any other noticeable signs of injury, his face was so contorted in torment, in. . . something else you had never seen before. Not quite anger, you’ve seen that plenty of times (never directed at you).

You tried to catch his eye, but he was so focused on the spot above your brow where your hairline met your forehead. He retrieved a bandana from his jeans and moved forward. Instinctively, you leaned away, your own hand reaching up to touch the spot that drummed with pain. Warm, sticky substance covered that place and you pulled your hand back to discover deep crimson dripping from your fingers. 

“You’re bleedin’ real bad,” Benny said and only then did you realize that was your blood on your fingers. He tried again and this time you didn’t pull away as he gently pressed the bandana to your flesh. You gasped at the contact, squeezing your eyes shut from the sting.

“I know, baby.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “But you’re bleedin’ real bad.”

You knew that, you wanted to say. You could see it on your fingers, that awful deep red glistening in the sunlight. Your fingers blurred slightly and you blinked a few times to try to clear your vision. But it wasn’t your vision, you realized, it was your hands shaking. Suddenly aware of the sensation, you noticed your whole body was trembling. 

Another voice sounded beside you.

“Oh my god. Is she okay?” It was Kathy, you knew without even looking up.

“I need some water.” Benny said. “Please.”

That's when you realized it was fear in his voice. You’d never heard Benny sound so desperate, so scared. You wanted to grab his hand and tell him that you were okay, that you just needed a moment for the ringing in your ears to stop and then you’d be alright. Really, it was him that you were more worried about than anything else. You looked back up at his face, eyes falling on his split lip once more. 

“I–I’m okay, Benny,” you whispered, reaching for the bandana.

His free hand locked around your wrist, pulling it away from your head, stopping you from removing the bandana. “Don’t touch it, honey.”

The pain was subsiding, you wanted to say, even if it wasn’t really. You just wanted to calm him down. He let your wrist slide through his grasp and you reached out to gently touch his lip. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” he repeated incredulously, brows knitted together. “Bunny, you’re bleeding like you just took on an army and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

“Head injuries bleed a lot more . . . They’re heavy bleeders because of the blood flow to your brain.” You attempted to ease his worry with your fun fact. 

He looked unconvinced, pulling back the bandana to peek. “Yeah, where’d you hear that? One of your books?”

“Yeah,” you smiled sheepishly at him and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight. You were so. . . small. So fragile looking sitting here with his bandana pressing against your pretty little head, legs hanging off the tailgate. Benny had to remind himself to take a breath, to focus on controlling his shaking hands. Had to tell himself to be strong for you. You needed him now. He'd be there for you.

Kathy returned with a bottle of water and Benny moved to the side a little, still firmly pressing his hand against your head. “For her hands,” he said.

She uncapped the bottle and gently pulled your hands out over the edge as she poured a stream of the cool water to rinse the crimson from your skin. You glanced down and made a sound. “Aww, no. My shirt. . .”

Benny followed your gaze to the once baby pink shirt now stained with booze and fresh anger coursed through his veins, setting his head swirling with images of strangling the man who touched his girl. You were one of the few good thing - pure thing - left in his world and the fact that someone dared to touch you, to hurt you, set Benny's jaw so tightly that he thought his teeth might crack.  

With the creak from the backdoor opening, Johnny and Brucie came out, rounding the truck. 

“How’s she?” Johnny asked and Benny glanced at his friend. Whatever expression Benny must have shot him caused Johnny to grimace. He moved closer to the two, putting a comforting hand on Benny’s shoulder. “Lemme see.”

Reluctantly, Benny lowered the bandana and Johnny hummed.

“Alright, ain’t that bad,” Johnny assured calmly and nodded at you as he spoke. “Ain’t that bad. The head bleeds a lot, always looks worse than it is.”

“See? I told you.” You quipped, fingers finding the beltloops of his jeans and pulling him lightly. Benny sighed through his nose. 

“She’s gonna need stitches,” Brucie spoke from behind. 

“Can you take her to the hospital?” Benny asked Kathy who nodded instantly as she stepped forward and replaced his hands as he moved back.

“Woah woah, what do you think you’re doin’ in the meantime?” Johnny questioned, already knowing what Benny planned to do.

“I’m gonna go kill him,” Benny declared as if it were obvious.

“No, Benny–” you started but Benny had already pulled away from you, making his way back to the door. He already planted the seed in his mind. He wouldn’t let anyone do anything to you and still have the ability to walk above the ground. This guy needed to be six feet under already. It was Johnny’s hand who grabbed his upper arm, Johnny who stopped him in his tracks.

“No, Benny,” he said quietly, leaning into Benny’s space. “You ain’t goin’ back in there.”

“He–” Benny started, unable to get the image of you laying on the floor of the bar out of his head. He wanted to kill him. He wanted him to hurt. He didn’t care if he’d be arrested for it. He’d been arrested for a lot less before. 

“No,” Johnny’s voice cut him off. “You go take care of Bunny now. We’ll take care of this piece of shit. Hey, you hear me? We’ll take care of it.”

Benny held Johnny’s intense gaze as he considered his next move. He wanted to be the one to take care of it, but the severity in Johnny’s voice, the rigid way his shoulders fell up and down with his breath, the carefully selected words– Benny knew that this man who hurt you would never be a problem again. Johnny wouldn’t let him be because you were an integral part of the Vandals. And they protected their own. 

“Okay,” Benny relented, taking a step back, eyes flickering to your small form still sitting on the tailgate. When he looked back at Johnny, the glint of his brass knuckles caught his eye as he pulled them from his pocket, sliding it snuggly over his fingers.

“Go take Bunny to the hospital. We’ll meet you there when we’re finished.”

"Okay," Benny repeated and he believed him.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict  @elizabeth916  @jaiuneamesolitaiire  @dudii4love @ironmooncat  @beebeechaos  @astrogrande  @pearlparty  @themorriganisamonster  @sillylittlethrowaway  @ughdontbeboring  @penwieldingdreamer  @charmingballoon  @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans  @groovyangelkisses  @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit  @pomtherine  @tranquilty  @m00npjm  @twisteduniverse5  @justsomewritingblog  @nhlfs  @thepassionatereader  @rebecca-hvnstn  @dreamlandcreations  @buckysteveloki-me  @simsiddy  @zablife  @sansaorgana  @autumnleaves1991-blog  @charmingballoon  @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @jaiuneamesolitaiire

[wizard-on-whales]

Jealousy

NSFW 17+

You had been friends with James as long as you could remember, but one detail you never shared with him was how you lost your virginity (consider this an apology for bullying James so much recently)

Warnings: Smut, cursing, James being a little shit, him also scaring you a little, grammar mistakes Word count: 3k

✭-----------------------------✭

Tonight was a typical night after one of the band's very loud, energetic shows, and like always, there was an even louder and even more chaotic after-party. By now, it had died down mostly, and you sat around a table with your childhood best friend, James, and his bandmates. Somehow, the conversation had gotten to the topic of how everyone had lost their virginity. 

“I don't think you've ever told me how you lost yours,” James says, looking over at you as he casually sips his beer. He sat leaned back and relaxed in his chair, a small buzz flushed over his features.

“No, I haven't,” You reply simply, a small smile tugging on your lips as you fiddle with your own, now-empty beer bottle.

“Oh, come on, spill it. It can't be nearly as bad as mine, you knew how Kathy was…,” James snorts, shaking his head in disbelief as he thinks about his first experience.

“No, it wasn't bad, it was actually really good…I've just never told you,” You tell him, grinning over at him as you remember the night.

“And why not? Scared I'll make fun of you for who it was?” James snickers, mirroring your grin.

“Nope, you'll absolutely fucking hate who it was,” James gives you a look, now even more curious than before. 

“Who?” He asks, leaning forward a little as he abandons his beer. You think for a second, wondering if you should really tell him before smiling widely and looking him straight in the eyes.

“Mustain.” You snicker, James' face immediately drops, and he leans back in his chair again, staring at you in complete disbelief. You look over to see Lars burst out laughing at your answer. 

“Mustain? Seriously?? That asshole?!!” James practically groans, still looking at you like you just killed his dog. 

“Yeah, I remember it all pretty clearly, honestly, still the best sex I've ever had.” You grin, deciding to egg him on, knowing just how much he despises the redhead. 

“Oh yeah? How come?” He grits through his teeth, his jaw clenching.

“Well, after you guys kicked him out of the band, he came straight to the house we were all living in. Asked him why he was back and he told me everything, assumed he was just gonna collect his stuff but nope…he decided he wanted to fuck the absolute shit out of me right on your bed,” You tell the story to the whole table, Lars and Kirk laughing the whole time while James sits fuming in his chair. His hand was gripping his beer bottle so tightly that you thought it might explode. 

“On my bed?” He questions, his face red with anger. You snicker a little before you decide to keep going.

“Oh yeah, we went at it practically the whole night, made such a mess of your sheets I couldn't wash them and had to just replace them. I'm surprised you didn't notice when you got back….God, I couldn't walk straight for a week.” James continues to glare at you before taking a long sip of his nearly cracked beer bottle and then slamming it down on the table.

“Welp, we're gonna go,” Lars says through a snicker, wrapping his arm around Kirk's shoulders as they feel the tension that was starting to grow. As they get up and leave, you realize they were the last people in the house. The party had subsided, leaving only you and James in the mess of bottles and cans. 

“We should probably clean up a little,” You say, glancing around the disaster of a house and standing up from your seat. James stays in his place, his knuckles white as he continues to grip his bottle, his breathing ragged. You knew he'd be upset, but you didn't think it'd get to this point. He looked like he wanted to rip your head off, and it honestly scared you. You went to step away from the table, but his heavy hand gripped your wrist tightly, making you stay. 

“James,” You say quietly, your wrist wiggling a little to try and escape his grasp, but he only tightened it, to the point it was starting to hurt. 

“All that true or were you just saying it to piss me off?” He asks, his voice low as he glares up at you, pulling you closer by your wrist. 

“It's true…maybe a little exaggerated but mostly true,” You say quietly. James stood up, towering over you like always, making your heart leap to your throat. You fucked up, you thought, definitely fucked up and he was about to kill you.

“You're hurting me,” You tell him, trying to move your wrist again. His grip falters slightly, but it was still tight enough that you couldn't escape. 

“You've got a way of pushing my buttons, you know that, always have. It's like you enjoy pissing me off,” James grits through his teeth. He sets his beer bottle down before gripping your other wrist, pinning you between him and the table. You were sweating at this point, unsure of what was to come next. You had pissed him off plenty of times but it had never gotten to a point where you were scared of what he would do. You avoided his gaze, your breathing starting to pick up. 

“I'm sorry, James, I was just joking around…” You say softly, he pushes himself further against you, and that's when you feel it. Right against your leg was something undeniably hard and horny. You felt your cheeks heat up as you glanced up at him to see a sly look on his face. 

“Said you couldn't walk straight for a week after him, yeah? I'll make sure you can't walk at all,” He lowers his face next to your ear, his words low, his tone threatening. You wiggle in his grasp again, cheeks burning at his voice in your ear. 

“Is that what you want?” He asks, his lips grazing your neck as if he were already teasing you. You think for a second, heart racing in your chest before you slowly nod. He pulls back a little, grabbing your chin so that you look at him.

“Use your words, Birdie,” There it was, that damn nickname he called you growing up and still does, just the same way you still call him Jamie. You swore your legs became jelly the second he said it. 

“Yeah,” You breathe out, nodding your head again. He gives you a small smirk, pinning you even further against the table, his boner prominent against your leg.

“Yeah, what?” He asks with a small grin, playing with you. You let out a small huff, giving him a bit of an annoyed look, which causes him to squeeze your chin tightly. Suddenly, you felt shyer than you ever had around him as you tried to speak your request. 

“...fuck me,” You say quietly, cheeks on fire as you see the smile that spreads across his face. 

“Fuck you till…” He decides to drag it out even further, enjoying the feeling of tormenting you.

“I can't walk,” You practically squeak out. He moves his hands from your wrist and chin and places them on your waist, his hands shoving under your shirt and drinking in the feeling of your skin.

“You sure?” He asks sincerely, giving you a genuine look, but that doesn't stop his hands from wandering further up your skin.

“Yeah,” You say again, looking up at him. You place your own hands on his waist, your fingers gripping the loops of his jeans. He gives you another grin before leaning down again, pressing his lips harshly against yours. He tasted like the beer he had been drinking all night and smelled like the aftershave he often used. His hands roughly grip your waist before easily hoisting you up onto the table. He moves his lips to your cheek before placing them against your neck, his lips and tongue attacking your skin, his teeth nipping lightly. 

You lean your head back, a soft moan escaping your lips, and you feel something start to pool between your legs. Your hands reach for his shirt, pulling it out of the waistband of his tight jeans, allowing your hands to feel their way up his soft abs. His hands grip your waist tightly, his skin shivering under your gentle touch. 

“Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?” He says in your ear, more of a statement than a question. He pulls away from your neck and rests his forehead against yours, looking at you with lust-filled eyes. 

“Just as long as I have…”You reply, your hand grazing the straining fabric in the front of his jeans. He lets out a soft noise, one you wouldn't expect from a man with a shell like his. He takes a moment to just quietly look at you, his bleary, drunken eyes roaming over the features on your face. A small smile spreads across his features as he realizes you're doing the same.

“Stop staring and kiss me,” He demands softly, pulling you a little closer. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and envelope his lips in a too-wet and too-toothy kiss, but neither of you care. He wraps his arms tightly around your frame, pulling your front against his, your faces squished together as your saliva mixes. It was a desperate action, one that had been built up and hidden under layers for years. One that had always been longed for but pushed away in fear. It all spilled over as James quickly swiped away anything that was on the table and pushed you back, crawling onto it himself and pressing his body overtop of you. 

Despite the fact that James was on the leaner side, he was still heavy on top of you, his full weight crushing you to the table, warming your body even further. His mouth continued to move desperately against yours, his tongue tasting every inch. You wrapped your legs around him, lifting your hips up a bit to grind against him, causing his movements to falter for a second. You could feel the shudder that washed over him. He lifted his head away from yours, his hands instantly moving to your shirt and working it off of you, discarding it to the floor with the empty beer cans. 

“Jesus,” James lets out, his eyes drinking in the sight of your bare breasts. Sometime during the night, you had gotten too hot from the alcohol and taken your bra off without a care. Now you lie half exposed under your best friend as he practically drools over the sight of you. You smile before grabbing the back of his neck and pushing his face into them. He wastes no time, nipping and licking the sensitive skin like a starved animal. The small buzz you had made your body feel extra sensitive, you arch your back with little restraint, your head falling against the table. His hands grip your waist firmly as his mouth assaults your chest. Slowly, his kisses start to move down, his tongue dragging along your skin, tasting every inch he can as he reaches the hem of your shorts. 

You smile down at him, moving your hands above your head to push out your chest and lift your hips for him. He wastes no time fumbling with the button and tugs them and your panties down at the same time, leaving you fully bare under his gaze. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly pulls his own shirt over his head and tosses it to the side, reaching for his belt. You sit up and move his hands, unbuckling his belt for him. His gaze flickers down to your hands, watching them intently as they work slowly to reveal his skin just as he had yours. You could see his chest heaving with each heavy breath he took, his skin hot under your touch. 

“Once we start, I'm not gonna be able to stop…” He says, his voice low and husky as he watches you push his jeans down his hips. 

“Who said I'll want you to?” You reply quietly, meeting his eyes once more. Something had shifted in them, something darker now lay behind his baby blues as he pushed you back down on the table. He kicks his jeans off the rest of the way and crawls back over you, looking down at you as if you were his prey. He leans down and connects his lips with yours once more in a slow, sensual kiss.

With one hand above your head, he keeps himself planted there, the other trails down your side and to your thigh, wrapping it around his waist. His short nails dig into the skin, leaving little half moons against it. You feel his tip brush against your entrance, causing you to raise your hips, wanting him. He groans against your lips and pulls away to look down at you. 

“I need you,” He says quietly and eagerly, his hand gripping your thigh tightly. Your hands make their way into his hair, loosely pulling the wild, blonde locks.

“Please…” You breathe out, trying to pull him closer. He looks down between your legs and positions himself once more before slowly pushing into you. A low groan escapes him, his eyes shutting and his mouth hanging open. You wanted to do the same, but you couldn't look away from him. You could feel a shudder run through his body once more as he pushed himself a little further. A soft moan leaves your lips, which causes his eyes to shoot open and bore into yours. 

“You're so perfect…” He mutters quietly, his hand moving to your cheek and stroking it as his hips press against yours as far as they'll go. He stays just like that for a moment, his breathing heavy as his eyes roam over your face. You move your hands further into his hair, pushing it back so that it wasn't dangling in your face. He smiles before slowly starting to move his hips. You let out another moan, your walls slowly loosening around the invasion of his cock. He leans down and connects his lips with yours once more, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He lets out a groan, his hips moving a little faster the wetter you get. 

It was no time at all before his hips were pistoning into you at a rapid pace, his hands gripping your waist almost painfully tight. His chest glistened with sweat under the low light of the room, his face halfway shielded by his hair, casting a shadow over his pleasure-contorted features. Your hands clawed at his forearms, holding yourself there, your legs trumbling under his movements, a desperate noise leaving your lips with each harsh thrust he delivered into oyur eager cunt. 

“Oh fuck me,” He groans out, his head falling back, his adams apple bobbing as he hashly swallows back the whine that threated to escape. 

“Please, James,” You cry out, pussy quivering around his needy cock. He looks down at you with an almost animalistic expression. He leans down, trapping your head between his forearms as he picks up his pace, his hips rutting into yours with desperation. 

“Thats it, fuck, sound so good…feel so good,” He mutters under his heavy breathing. He lets out a cry, his hips sputtering for a moment, his body trembling as you feel him cum inside you. 

“Mm’sorry, sorry, fuck,” He almost whimpers. Your brain couldn't quite comprehend why he was apologizing, considering the sight of him was almost enough for you to come undone yourself. You somehow manage to flip your bodies over, mounting James and staring down at him intently as you practically ride him like a cracked out pornstar. His head falls back against the table, a loud groan leaving him, his hands gripping your hips tightly and attempting to guide them. 

You plant your hands firmly against his chest as your hips rock back and forth, more grinding against him than bouncing on him. His cum leaked out of you, making a sticky mess across his hips and your thighs. The feeling of him filling you from this angle was almost too much, his soft blonde pubes brushing agaisnt your sensitive, swollen clit brought your orgasm forth quickly. Your movments picked up for a moment, loud, shameless moans spilling from your mouth as you practically use James as a fucktoy. You could feel his body trembling under you, his hands leaving bruises against your hips, his own moans loud and shameless. It hits you all at once as you collapse on top of him, your arms pulling him as close as possible as your high runs through you. 

James wraps his own arms tightly around you, pulling your chest flush against his, his cum spilling into you for a second time. His heavy breathing in your ear and the feeling of his skin sticking to yours were almost overwhelming. You sit up just enough to look at him, his eyes meeting yours. He lets out a quiet, breathless laugh, pulling you back down to kiss you. You pull away after a moment and rest your forehead against his, smiling down at him.

“I love you,” You whisper. You feel him give your hip a small squeeze, a smile spreading across his flushed face. 

“I love you, too.”

[bluemirrorangel]

fem outsiders hcs

So i already did this for DPS but I wanted to do an outsider's version.

Darry:

Name: Shayanne ‘Annie’ Darrel Curtis, Named after her mum.

Pins her hair back to look more ‘professional.’ 

Works as a secretary for a roofers firm.

Was really popular in high school, she was voted cheer captain in her senior year but her parents died so she had to drop out.

Lost all her friends after dropping out to raise her sisters.

Has a second job as a babysitter on the weekends.

Bails the others out of jail so much that the police call her on impulse.

Used to go ‘skiing’ with her friends, she never actually skied herself but sometimes she misses the snow.

the  Curtis’s don’t have an open door policy anymore but a specific knock you use when you need a place to stay.

Keeps loose change in a pot in her room for emergencies.

Used to have a crush on Elvis Pressley in highschool.

She still has his posters on her wall.

Used to share a room with Soda but moved into her parent's room after they died.

The strongest in the gang and the most ‘physically’ intimidating.

Soda:

Name: Soda Curtis

She wears her hair in a beehive-type ponytail with flipped ends.

Still works at the DX but more at the cash register because she’s better with People and  Stevie is better with cars.

Had a boyfriend called Andy

Instead of Sandy cheating, getting pregnant and running away, Soda has a pregnancy scare that makes Andy run away.

After Windrixville  she starts spending time with a Soc boy ‘Sheridan.’

Still known around town for her looks.

Wanted to be a cowgirl when she was a kid.

Wants to start taking night classes in her twenties to get her high school diploma.

Doesn’t go to Vietnam.

Starts working night shifts as a waitress at a 24-hour diner in her late teens-early twenties.

Ponyboy:

Name: Ponygirl ‘Pony’ Curtis

Only greaser on the girls' track team.

Has her hair in a Ponytail. Annie used to plait it for her but she’s too rough.

Wants to be a writer.

Saving up for a camera.

After her hair was bleached and cut, up in Windrixville she got mistaken for a boy.

The shortest girl in her class.

Wears her dad's old shirts.

Needs glasses.

Scared of fire and loud noises after Windrixville.

Doesn’t consider herself popular but she is well-known.

Gets freckles in the summer.

Always has a lighter.

Got closer to Curly after Windrixville.

Stevie taught her how to drive.

Steve:

Name: Stevie Randle

Shoulder-length brown hair she spends a ridiculous amount of time curling it.

The best engineer at the DX but constantly underestimated.

Banned from dealing with customers due to her lack of filter.

Fiercely overprotective of Soda when it comes to guys specifically Socs.

Considers Pony a little sister.

Has a boyfriend ‘Evan’

Short temper.

Only stayed in school to look out for Pony.

Has always looked up to Annie as a female role model because Annie helped teach her after her mum left.

Insecure about her height.

Loves drag races.

Hates the Beatles.

Can actually sing quite well.

Twobit:

Name: Kathy ‘Twobit’ Mathews

Has a younger brother called Keith.

Short curly red hair.

Had a thing with a boy soc ‘Marshal’

Still drinks too much.

Annie’s childhood friend

Dips french fries into milkshakes.

Loves butter popcorn.

Has an issue taking things seriously.

Can walk on her hands.

Can’t sit still.

Actually enjoys movies but can’t watch them quietly.

Johnny:

Name: Jane ‘Janey’ Cade

Wears her hair down but greases the front.

The quietest member of the gang.

Surprisingly sarcastic.

Almost as fast as Pony.

Wears hand-me-downs and a big denim Jacket Dallas gave her to try and curb any attention.

Can be shockingly violent when scared.

Secretly protective of Pony.

Great at picking locks.

Once fell asleep in the boot of Stevie’s car during a game of man hunt.

Dallas:

Name: Dallas Winston

Really messy long blonde hair, like canon Dallas she’s not a fan of grease so she just let’s it tangle.

Just as violent specifically towards older men.

Like Sylvia but worse.

Cares deeply for Pony and Janey.

Only smokes winstons.

Kicked out of school for violent behaviour. 

Can NOT hold a steady job for the life of her.

Hates kids.

Orphan.

The most intimidating one in the gang in general.

Regularly gets into fights with Tammy Shepard.

Tim:

Name: Tamara “Tammy” Shepard.

Wears her hair up.

Leader of the Shepard outlet.

Runs her gang like the U.S. Navy.

Started looking after her siblings around sixteen after their parents walked out on them.

Doesn’t do much crime herself out of fear of being taken from them permanently.

Like Annie but a delinquent.

Deeply threatening.

Lives in constant fear of dying too young.

Taught Curly and Angelo how to fight.

Curly:

Name: Shirley ‘Curly’ Shepard

Waist length curly hair 

Steals make up from anywhere.

Has a deeply flawed understanding of love

Uses her femininity and attractiveness to her advantage.

Like Angela but more rabid.

Her idea of romance is dining and dashing with Pony.

Only smokes Marlboro’s 

Steals Pony’s flannels.

Hates pepsi

Smarter than people give her credit for.

Leaves lipstick marks on EVERYTHING.

leave a ship or fandom suggestions for headcanons, fics or just questions in general and I'll do them if you want :)

[maxwellfrere]

ahs: pleasant valley

evan peters as harper. do you understand the vision now

got hit with the life changing realization that 2001 maniacs is basically ahs roanoke.

[jtl-fics]

In honor of April Fools day I will talk a bit about an AU with my favorite fool - (Redacted) Smith that I will probably never write fully but have thought about a bunch of scenes for.

I call it 2 Fluent Freshmen.

Due to a clerical error at both the school and during the local government's push to digitize their documents Smith is noted down as being 2 years older than he actually is and (perhaps a clerical error or maybe no teacher can say if they've had him in class or not) Smith also has enough credits to graduate. Gran has passed away early and there's nothing for him in Washington other than more anxiety.

Wymack & Dan come to Smith when he is 16 and Smith takes the chance to escape from his family IMMEDIATELY. Sure the Foxes are the worst team and sure there's some drama going on with Kevin Day having joined them after his injury but a full ride scholarship is a full ride scholarship!

Smith is rooming with 2 upperclassmen and his only other fellow freshman - Neil Josten. He is not hiding the fact that he can speak Russian, he is hiding the fact that he is 16. Smith ends up pretty close to Seth and Allison due to sharing a dorm / position respectively and just doing his best not to get to close to crazy Andrew Minyard. He does get a bit close with Neil but it's not something he's trying to do.

He's trying to keep his head down and get through the year.

It's a little hard when he is sat on the couch with the Kathy Ferdinand show. It's a lot harder when Riko Moriyama shows up and doesn't realize he's there and just...sits in Smith's lap?? Smith remains as blank faced as ever and what the fuck is Riko supposed to do? ADMIT HE FUCKED UP?

Do you know how hard it is to intimidate someone when you're sitting in the lap of some dude? The answer is VERY. Kevin can't take him seriously at all, especially after Smith made a comment that Riko's ass was bony.

Riko goes after them the same but Smith doesn't really get that his anger is at Kevin. "Hey, I'm sorry I called your butt bony on national television. That was rude of me. You should try some squats though." and like what the fuck is Riko supposed to say in the face of some dude genuinely apologizing to him.

It buys enough time that no one is grabbed or slammed.

Seth and Allison drag him out to the bar that night and after a few minutes sitting with Allison Smith realizes that he actually does have to pee and oh god someone's trying to assault Seth! Smith calls upon the powers of Gracie Hart and Seth has a black eye and a concussion but he graduates.

Neil wants Smith to come with him to the Thanksgiving because Neil has latched on a bit. Smith ends up going and also ends up going upstairs to go to the bathroom because oh god he cannot handle Nicky's parents hearing him take an anxiety shit. He's making his way to the end of the hall and sees a penny on the ground so he bends over to grab it.

And Drake Spears is unbalanced from missing his swing and falls right out the open window to the ground below where he breaks his neck. Naturally, Andrew is watching this scene unfold from the stairs and just starts to laugh his ass off. Smith turns around after flipping the penny over (it was tails side up and therefore not lucky) unaware of what has happened.

Smith asks if Andrew wants to use the bathroom. Andrew insists that Smith goes on ahead. The Hemmicks keep asking if they saw anyone upstairs and Smith has no idea what they're talking about, Andrew does but plays dumb out of spite. A day later it's wild that Nicky's parents got arrested. Like they seemed so normal, how did they kill someone and dump him in the side garden??

The Winter Banquet happens and well...it's dark. It's dark and Neil has brown hair and brown eyes and Smith has brown hair and brown eyes. Riko is not the best at judging heights so he calls Smith to threaten him and tell him that he's joining the Ravens for a Winter Break training camp. Jean is doing the most anyone has ever done not to laugh right now.

Riko only realizes his mistake when he's finished threatening Smith with his father and Smith ruins it. Smith is elated to have somewhere to stay over winter break. He can't mention he has nowhere to go so he'd thought he'd spend the break homeless. Now here comes Riko Moriyama inviting him to a camp where room and board will be provided?

What a nice guy. To thank him Smith compliments the gains he's noticed on Riko's ass. "The squats are really helping you, or are you doing something else?" he asks.

What the fuck is Riko supposed to do? ADMIT THAT HE FUCKED UP? Tell Smith that he's been doing squats and leg lifts before asking that he hand the tickets back and go get Neil???

Fuck that.

He'll just turn Smith against the Foxes and-

Well Riko kept talking about Smith's dead dad and so Smith may have a slight misunderstanding about the full scope of this training camp. He may think that there is some sort of seance element to it at this point and he's kind of excited at the idea of talking to his dad. "I've never spoken to a dead man before, this will be fun." and it's delivered flatly with no expression.

Riko starts to wonder if maybe Smith is the Butcher's son? Did the Butcher have two sons? He's sweating all the sudden.

It does not help that Smith brings a Ouija board to camp or that his dad was a legit Butcher before he died so Riko's tentative questioning only sends him further into an anxious mess about if Nathan had twins and Riko, due to being kept away from the family business, might just not be aware of it?

Smith has a nice Christmas break.

The last scene I've got dinging around in the noggin is in Binghamton. Smith has been left behind at many a stadium at this point. There's a solid and fast rule.

Neil cannot get on the bus without Smith. They are buddies. This is the buddy system. So when the riot starts and Neil seems to be getting pulled away in the crowd?

Well Smith grabs his hand and pulls him towards the bus, "Buddy system."

The bus starts and they're on their way shortly after. Neil's an anxious wreck but that next morning he wakes up to the news that the Butcher of Baltimore died in an FBI raid the night before as well as his men.

Smith watches the news with Neil, "Wow, that's scary." as he sips some orange juice.

[more-sonorous]

rag, boy, rag (can you teach me how to play?)- davey angst

(been thinking about David playing piano at a jatherine wedding pretty much nonstop recently so have a sliver of the long dissertation I wrote about it)

…..

The first time David Jacobs ever wanted to flat-out refuse to play the piano came when he was twenty years old on a lunch break between lectures, sitting on a bench in New York City with Jack Kelly by his side and a pretzel in his hand.

“Hey, listen, Dave– I’m real glad you could find some time to meet me.” Jack said almost seriously, absentmindedly brushing a few strands of his dark hair away from his perfect eyebrows.

“Of course. Though– I don’t see why this couldn’t have waited until Friday, you know it’s Kathy and I’s book club night.” He glanced up at his friend rather admonishingly as he tore a piece of his pretzel off, trying not to focus on how beautiful Jack’s honey-brown eyes looked in the sun.

David had planned to stop doting on this boy quite some time ago, but he’d done a rotten job of kicking his affections down. It seemed that at twenty he was more in love with Jack than he was at seventeen, which was simply no good because he was in love with Jack’s fianceé, too. There was no woman more beautiful than Katherine Pulitzer, and David stood by that belief. He also believed that there was no man more lovely than Jack Kelly, and so he found himself hopelessly head over heels despite his own reservations.

Jack’s easy smile turned almost nervous. “Well, it’s about the wedding, so I sorta wanted it to be just us.”

“Oh.” David felt his own smile slip and falter. He’d been dreading this moment and their intense eye contact instantly became too much. Jack was going to want to talk about his wedding eventually. He and Kath had been planning for weeks and according to Racetrack, they were both knee-deep in it and very excited. It was honestly a miracle neither of them had brought it up yet. Squirming in his skin, David firmly directed his sights on his own scuffed shoes. “Alright, what about the wedding?”

“Well– I want ya’ to be my best man.” Jack said, very simply, and when David didn’t smile or react at all, really, he cleared his throat. “Y’know, since you’re my best friend and all. You’re my best man day-to-day, so why shouldn’t ya’ be in my wedding?”

He swallowed the hard lump in his throat as his traitorous brain slammed him with images of Jack and Kath, happily dolled up in white and black, enjoying the best day of their lives as David wallowed in misery by Jack’s side. Just the thought made him feel a little bit nauseous, and that nausea only grew as he imagined himself having to stand up and give a speech about how happy he was for them. Of course, David was happy for them. He loved them, and they were happy, so how could he not be happy?

He was happy, but he was jealous and lonely and miserable too. There was no earthly way he’d give a speech that did Jack and Katherine justice. In fact, he’d been considering not attending the wedding at all. Finding an excuse. He didn’t need to be in the picture— he was horrible at masking his emotions. He’d just be a sad, morose lump, sucking all of the fun out of the night. They didn’t deserve that. But Jack was looking at him so hopefully and he knew that skipping his best friend’s biggest day was an offense he couldn’t commit.

David dug the toe of his boot into the brick beneath them. “I… I can’t make a speech, Jack.”

“That’s fine!” Jack reassured nearly instantly, grabbing Davey’s pant leg with fervor and leaning in like this was the most important thing he’d ever done. “Seriously, Dave, fine by me. No speech!”

How could he tell Jack no more firmly? He was starting to spiral into panic. “I can’t– I can’t stand up there in front of everyone at the wedding, either. I’m not– I’ll panic, and that’ll ruin your big day.” Now Jack looked positively distraught. This was falling apart fast. David gritted his teeth tightly and awkwardly, painfully took Jack’s hand in his own. “Jackie, I’m still going to be there–”

“But I want ya’ in the wedding, Davey. Not just at it–”

“I– um– I was thinking–” He was blabbering before he could think, some subconscious part of him trying to soothe Jack’s miserable expression. “Well, I was thinking before you asked me about this, that maybe I could just play piano for you? So… so you don’t hafta hire some other musician. And if it’s me, you can tell me all the pieces you want to hear sooner than you could tell a stranger…”

Jack seemed to pause, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hair. “You mean that?”

“Sure.” He steeled in a deep breath and tried to ignore the stinging in his eyes. He did not want to be a part of this wedding at all– he’d been planning to watch the ceremony and escape after a few minutes of the celebration afterwards– but he did owe it to them. They’d been nothing but good to him for years. “Besides, um… I think Crutchie’d murder you if you didn’t give him the best man spot. Or Racer. He’d kill you faster.”

“Pfft, Crutchie and Racer can kiss my happy ass.” Jack rolled his eyes as if to affirm his point, giving David’s hand a heart-wrenching squeeze. Something akin to hope was brightening his face, dimpling his cheeks, and David sort of wanted to disappear. “But… if– if you’re sure ya’ don’t mind playin’ for free, that’d work. Shit, it would really work. And Kath loves your music, Dave. Honestly, she’d be honored to have ya’ play– we’d both be.”

Then Jack squeezed his hands again, and David felt even closer to throwing up than he did before as he managed a stilted, awkward little smile. “You… you don’t have to make a big deal out of it. I’ll take any excuse I can get to play ragtime.”

“Wait, I thought ya’ meant just the ceremony.” Jack’s brow furrowed. “I want’cha to enjoy the party after.”

“There’s nothing I enjoy more than playing the piano. Especially not parties. I hate parties, you know.” He insisted, carefully, firmly. This was a truth– a universal David Jacobs truth– and playing the piano would be the only way he’d be able to distract himself from the misery of their perfection. “Besides, I know Katherine likes Brahms waltzes, and I’d– well, um, I’d be honored to play during your first dance. So… you’ve got me for the ceremony and the reception.”

“Gee, Dave.” Jack’s smile softened into something heart-wrenchingly personal and David looked away, at the pedestrians on the street and the shouting vendor they’d purchased their lunch from. “That means a lot to me.”

“Yeah, well…” He swallowed again. Harder. “Yeah.”

[rikomoriyama01]

🗣️ (also sorry this got long, turns out i have thoughts) so like riko is one of the weirdest fandom cases i've ever seen. i've been in fandoms where characters who commit actual war crimes and genocide are badass babes or uwu soft bois, and even spoiled mafia brats who commit terrible crimes against the heroes for daddy's attention that get love and redemption. it's so weird to see just how isolated from all that riko is to me.

i do think it's partly how aftg is written, and that's also partly because niel's pov is not at all forgiving of riko, while is entirely forgiving of people like andrew. but i also think it's because of how riko himself is written. he's one of these characters that's better on paper than he is in the book to me. because he's never presented as smart enough to fall into the magnificent bastard trope where everyone applauds how devious his plans are, but he's not outright hammy enough to just be a fun read, he doesn't even get the same stupidly dramatic flare as andrew. and while we're told he's powerful and doing dangerous stuff, he's presented on page, more often than not, as a petulant child that neil is just done with or a guy who likes to torture people who neil is also done with. neil is never actually scared of riko, or even particularly threatened by him, and i think that hurts him and makes his position in the narrative weaker. especially when nora is trying to play him as a villain and a threat in a mafia story rather than a good old fashioned rival in a sports drama. for example, his first impression on the kathy show should live up to the hype of this imposing charismatic villain who broke kevin's hand, but instead loses him temper, forgets all of his media training and lets a nobody like neil goad him into losing control of the interview, and then his payback, things like shoving neil around and seth's death, are basically brushed off because neil doesn't really care that much. it's not given the weight to be a seriously omg this guys a threat first impression. and this isn't uncommon, lots of media hamstrings their villains at the start by making sure we know the main character is too sassy for them and can humiliate them, without thinking about how weak that can make the villain seem. it feels sometimes like nora wanted riko to be this chess master villain or tragic child who's lashing out at the world, without committing to it fully to either, or was just not an experienced enough writer to have known how to write either of those things in the pov of someone who hates riko's guts, which is understandable, writing is hard and that sort of nuance takes practice, especially if you just go by the books and not the extra content, and i do wonder how differently nora would have portrayed riko if she rewrote the main trilogy now with presumably a lot more practice under her belt. in the end riko ends up in this weird grey area to me where i understand why he's not popular, given he has none of the usual obvious traits that fans like to latch onto when redeeming a villainous character, and even the ones that are there are glossed over pretty quickly because of neil's pov, and a lot of his more interesting pieces are on paper not actively presented in the book, and not everyone reads super deep, but i also don't understand the amount of hate. i have literally never seen a character in any other fandom i've been in have this much fandom wide hatred.

See I have nothing to add here because you single handedly dropped the best analysis of Riko's character in the series I had pleasure to read so far and summed up all my feelings about why and what of the fandom. If the goal was to write a character that is impactful yet easy to hate then that goal was achieved but for me it real takes away form the magnitude of feelings Riko could evoke in reader and questions he could provoke in narrative if he was given bit different presentation that woudl still align with the lore we already have.

[kaytheday]

Seriously one of the best fan-fictions I have ever read. This work is centered on the stories of Kathy, Evie, Sandy, and Sylvia and the trouble that they get into. I always love hearing about the greaser girls and this author writes them so seamlessly and realistic. One of the best written outsiders fanfics, period. If anybody else has read it, I would love to talk.

[hausofmamadas]

JOHNNY DAVIS | Cheers to a (real) wild one

The Bikeriders (2023)

∴

At the request of my beloved df (dear friend) @narcolini, who wrote this fucking FIIIIREEEEEEEE disgusting, amazing, beautiful, ridiculous, obscenely and downright upsettingly well-written Johnny Davis x Reader fic -> called white room, and also brought my attention to the s e v e r e lack of Johnny gifs out on the interwebs, I am hereby dumping some of my fav Johnny moments from The Bikeriders aka just S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders for grownups nvm that they’re contemporary stories shshhhhh shhh it still works. So that we may all join hands together in a kumbayah-my-lordt prayer circle to levitate to the ceiling chanting spells appreciate and enjoy and gaze creepily lovingly at his beautiful, grizzled bisexually lovestruck sweet bb angel face that launched a thousand choppers eat your heart out Helen you got nothin on our golden boy and so that my df (dear friend) might regale us with additional installments of possibly the most in-character fanfic I’ve read in my life bc this man is in their bones, yall, dejame do TELLLL you like seriously go check it out, pls and thnku.

And so, without further ado I present to you the tumblr equivalent of my 7th grade diorama honoring golden boy, Johnny Davis:

Yeah, so this👇here is just him being fucking perfect and adorable, laughing at his malewife Benny’s red-light/stop-sign-running shenanigans, pretending like he’s not half as in love with him as he clearly is, him being so perfect it stuck in my memory, like gum to a subway seat and I knew, before I even got the request, before I even started screenrecording, that I was forsure, 1000000% gonna gif these

This👇here is him being fucking perfect, gazing sexily from across the bar, pretending he ain’t the big man in charge, going over to assure a reasonably sketched out Kathy of her unequivocal safety in his bar, all rolling up his sleeves, casually slow-walking over, like he doesn’t own the damn place even tho he abs does, like idc if it’s not canon (tbh bc I only saw the movie twice) but no one will convince that man’s name is not on the deed to that bar bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

Oh this👇one right here is just him being a perfect fucking commiserate professional club leader, offering to fight some dude who was challenging Her Majesty’s crown bc Her Majesty won’t let said dude start a Milwaukee chapter get real Milwaukee, you don’t even go here even tho after the fight, Her Majesty Johnny’s just gonna fuckin let the dude start it anyway, he wants to test a homie’s dedication, bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

These ones👇here are just him being fucking dreamy and perfect, all enjoying a Sunday afternoon ride into the sunset with his malewife Benny the fam, hair blowing in the breeze, ain’t got a care in the world bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

This here👇is him being fucking perfect, doing his best Brando-mugging at the camera, cigarette expertly hanging out his mouth by a thread, eyebrows up nearly to his hairline, all squinting like he about to fail a vision test at the DMV n giving them no choice but to take his driver’s license away, except jokes on them bc nothing and I mean n o t h i n g can keep him away from these mean streets or from his girlfriend that’s he knows is way too cool for him, Benny bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

This here👇is him being fucking perfect and positively heartbroken getting the news that his malewife has been attacked by some clowns in a bar from my malewife, a one Ponyboy-coded, Mr. Cal from California aka Boyd Holbrook in greaser drag and I normally am so not for blondies but by god am I here for that and plotting his inevitable revenge on those no-good mfs who did his girl so dirty, nearly taking away her ability to ride bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is

This here👇is him being fucking perfect exacting said vengeance on behalf of his malewife, Benny aka The Girl Everyone Wants To Take To The Prom by finding the dudes who beat him up and then setting the bar on fire for good measure bc gottdammmititfkdjd nobody messes with MAH WOMAN bc that’s the kinda guy Johnny is. It’s also him hilarious with the comedic timing like look at how funny his face is just telling Brucie to burn it down SKSKSK

And this here👇is him being fucking perfect, watching the world burn enjoying the fruits of his labor, a Labor Of Love in fact, bc that’s the kinda fuckin guy Johnny is

And what’s more gold than that, right guys?? Never change. Stay gold, Johnny. Stay gold.

═

taglist: @drabbles-mc, @when-did-this-become-difficult, @complete-nonsequitur, @ashlingiswriting since yall read the fic

[ur-local-theatre-obsessed-menace]

~𝐼 - 𝐴 𝑊𝐻𝑂𝐿𝐸 𝑁𝐸𝑊 𝐵𝐸𝐺𝐼𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺~

“Seriously,” Davey started, putting more food into his mouth. “What does Santa Fe have that we don’t?”

Katherine laughed, awaiting Jack’s response.

Truthfully, Jack didn’t know. All he knew was that he originally wanted to leave New York. To get out of the smoke ridden city, where all he had to pass the time was manual labor. But now, Jack realized that if he went through with it, took Crutchie with him, and got away for good, he’d be leaving his family behind. He would be leaving kids he’d been protecting for oh-so-long, and he knows, it sucks being on your own.

“To be honest, now that I’s lookin’ at it, Santa Fe ain’t like it here. Sure there ain’t no horses n’ clean air in New York, but it’s home. This silly little town is where I grew up and met my family. I’s wouldn’t change not one bit.”

Jack spoke, taking a sip of water.

“Though, I would like to take some people with me to get a little slice a’ what life out there would be.”

Crutchie walked into Jacobi's Deli, sitting next to Jack, Katherine, Davey, and Les.

“Like who?”

Jack smiled at crutchie, nodding in his direction.

“Didn’t I make you’s a promise?”

Cructhie laughed, taking a glass of water from Jacobi when he came by.

“But, on that note, I’d be bringing you, Kathy, Davey, and Les. You’s deserve it after all.”

Les’ jaw dropped, then he quickly smiled.

“You’d really do that for us Jack? You’ll take us to the place you painted?”

Jack laughed, taking the boy’s hat off his head playfully.

“A’course I will. You all deserve it afta’ all. Cause, we’s all a family.”

Les took his hat back and stuck a tongue out at Jack, making him laugh.

“Cowboy Jack. Not something I ever thought I’d actually see.”

Katherine mused, causing Jack to roll his eyes, while the others laughed.

“Oh c'mon Jack, don’t forget that you told me to ‘just hop a palomino! You’s be ridin’ in style!’.”

Crutchie repeated, smirking.

“Really man?! You’s was supposed to be my best friend..”

Jack feigned a hurt expression, putting a hand over his chest as the others laughed.

Crutchie stuck his tongue out jokingly and Jack rolled his eyes at his action.

“But seriously, you’d take us with you? We- As in me, Les and Katherine- Haven’t even known you for long!”

Jack waved a dismissive hand, taking another sip of water.

“Like I said, you’s is family. Thanks to you, I was able to stand up for the otha’ boy’s.”

Davey smiled, putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“And, we have extra money with my help!”

Katherine chimed in, showing her earnings that week, which had been a crisp $12.

“Kathy, I can’t take you’s dough like that. You work hard for it”

Katherine rolled her eyes, shoving the money in the shirt pocket on his chest.

“You work hard too, and it will be much quicker this way, as you only make approximately $1.92 a week, so with my aid, we should be able to afford 5 train tickets, which would cost $194.3 all together within two years! Which the exact date is… Unknown, but it would be about a year and 10 months!”

Jack groaned, leaning his head back.

“At this rate all of us would hav’ta start selling 100 papes daily!”

Katherine took out a pen and notepad, writing something down

“Actually, if you go through with that and sell out each day, then that would raise the numbers to $7.68 with all of you combined, and with my 12, it would raise that to $19.68, meaning it would only take 11 months! Cutting our estimated time almost in half!”

Katherine turns her pen and points it at the boys.

“You guys don’t have spare money you're willing to put aside for this, do you?”

Les raised his hand, practically jumping out of his seat.

“I have $5 from my birthday last year!”

Davey chimed in, clearing his throat.

“I have an extra ten lying around back at my parents house.”

Katherine nodded, writing all of this down.

“So now, taking 15 off of our total, would be $179.3, so we’d only have to work for 9 months! Boom! We just cut a year off of our original time!”

Jack smiles at Katherine, kissing her on the head.

“Thanks for all the help Kathy”

Katherine smiles, finishing her glass of water.

“Let's all get to bed. That way, we can be up and first in line for papes tomorrow!”

Crutchie chimes in, gathering all of the empty cups and putting them at the edge of the table.

The group all said goodnight, retreating to their respective places, Jack and Crutchie up in the ‘penthouse’, Davey and Les, back with their parents, and Katherine in her father’s home.

“Hey Crutchie?”

Crutchie looked at Jack, who was leaning on the metal railing of the rooftop.

“You think we can actually do this?”

Crutchie laughs and smiles.

“Of course we can! We're all working crazy hard for this!”

Jack smiles, sitting down against the railing.

“Thanks man. Let’s get some rest now, yeah?”

Crutchie nods, laying down.

“Night Jack”

“Night Crutchie"

~To Be continued…~

[gatheringbones]

[“Police seem to have three reasons for arresting victims of gender-based violence: for the victims’ own good; to compel participation in prosecution; and because they see these victims as perpetrators. In the context of intimate partner violence, police sometimes justify making arrests by claiming that arrest will be helpful, forcing victims to face the seriousness of the violence and encouraging them to seek services. Similarly, law enforcement frequently cites rescue when arresting victims of trafficking. As Ohio attorney general Dave Yost explained, “Arresting the people who are the victims of human trafficking sounds harsh, but the complicated reality is that this often is the best way that law enforcement can help.” Deputy police chief Marc Garth-Green told the Seattle City Council that victims of trafficking might need to be arrested “to disrupt the cycle of violence and abuse. . . . For people trafficked in prostitution, jail can be a safer place than out on the street.”

Law enforcement officers use arrest— sometimes repeatedly—to “build trust” with trafficking victims. As one law enforcement officer explained, “You’ve got to take that girl away from that pimp for a long enough time that she trusts you, and that’s not going to happen in 24 hours or 36 hours.” Police believe that arrest prompts victims of commercial sexual exploitation to admit to their victimization, enabling them to access the services and supports they need to escape their traffickers. In some “prostitution diversion” programs, which are specifically designed to prevent people from being prosecuted for sex work–related offenses, police are not permitted to offer trafficking victims and others engaged in sex work services without first making an arrest. In other programs the existence of the program creates an incentive to arrest; police use arrests to bring people to central locations that offer both on-site booking and links to services. Law enforcement’s belief that such programs will “save” victims of trafficking from the streets is directly linked to increased policing to fill those programs.

Rescue may also be a function of white supremacy. As social science professor Kamala Kempdaoo has argued, white supremacy can be manifested in a desire to help racially marginalized people, which maintains the position and power of whiteness within racial hierarchies. Some in law enforcement recognize that arresting trafficking victims is a counterintuitive way to provide assistance. As sergeant Kathy Lacey of the Anchorage Police Department has explained, law enforcement’s intervention options are limited: “We don’t want to punish them. We want to remove them from that situation, and the tools that we have to remove them from that situation are to arrest them and to remove them from that trafficker.” Arrest is often described as a minor inconvenience in the service of a larger goal and harmless so long as the person is not convicted and left with a criminal record. What that perspective ignores, however, is the harm caused by arrest. Whatever good intentions law enforcement might have don’t keep people who are arrested from pushing back against the coercion implicit in the requirement that they comply with services or face incarceration. This vision of arrest as helpful, as rescue, is particularly ironic given how often victims of gender-based violence report abuse by law enforcement officers.”]

leigh goodmark, from imperfect victims: criminalized survivors and the promises of abolition feminism, 2023

[cer-rata]

Fic WIP "Boys Will Be Bugs"

When Jon first met Damian, he didn’t have a lot of friends. His early life was pretty unstable actually, and so were his powers, so there weren’t tons of opportunities to mingle. He'd never willingly admit it, but on a level his friendly personality was born out of loneliness as much as it was his natural state.

Anyway, back then Jon didn't know a ton of people, and It was easy for him to call someone a best friend when there were only three options--especially since one of them helped a crazy British man harass his family. And torture him. Kon had finally gotten him to admit to himself that Manchester Black's attempts to recruit him counted as torture, and he wasn't sure he appreciated knowing that, actually.

He was over it though, he and Kathy were still close, even if they saw each other less nowadays. But…it did give Damian a bit of a leg up in that race. As for Maya, well, she was like an older sister almost, still a friend, but it was a little different. So in some ways it kind of defaulted to Damian, especially with how much time they spent together in the years since.

The really interesting thing, Jon thought, was how Damian managed to keep that spot when he started adding new friends to his orbit. Jon had some really good friends too, friends he’d trust with his life, friends who knew things about him that he’d never tell his parents, friends who he knew liked him separate from the Superboy thing.

But still, Damian was the one Jon thought about when something went wrong, or when he figured out a new way to use his powers and wanted to tell someone. He thought about Damian a lot, really.

Damian had added some new friends to his orbit too, and recently a boyfriend even. Which was so…cool. Jon was happy for him, Damian deserved to have something nice like that, and it was great to see him opening up to new possibilities and stuff. He even genuinely liked the guy, and they’d already gotten past the “almost killing each other because of a misunderstanding/supernatural problem” stage, AND saved each other's lives. Conrad was Jon’s friend too, and that was neat. 

He wasn’t jealous anymore. Not at all. That wouldn’t make sense. Damian was already his best friend, what else could he even want? The Sapphire crystal thing showed you what you loved, and obviously he'd love his best friend, that wasn't weird, and the moment where he wondered about there being more to that was just him being stupid and dramatic and immature.

So he floated over to where Damian was drawing at his desk, and rested his chin on his shoulder, hovering just enough to not put too much of his weight on it. Damian didn’t bother shaking him off, or even complaining, which was crazy considering how they’d started off. Over their three years of friendship, Damian had been getting warmer and more tolerant of affection, and was almost normal about it. Jon wanted to think that his consistent positivity had finally worn Damian down…but…he acknowledged that the recent shift probably had to do with Conrad and how he’d been dragging Damian out of his shell. It seemed so easy when he did it, and Jon couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t managed it himself...but it was good that it happened! He was happy about it!

Besides, there were probably more…”incentives” for him to listen to Conrad. Jon and Conrad were both kind of dorky, but Conrad had cool hair, and was sort of...pretty in a way Jon didn't see himself as being. His charisma was slightly different too, as were the things he was confident about. He might have been nervous about being a superhero, but he was a shameless, earnest flirt, and maybe Damian just appreciated the audacity. Maybe Jon was too laid-back.

Conrad was also the same age as Damian, and being a little younger than his buddy had never felt like a problem before, but now Jon was wondering if maybe Damian didn't take him as seriously as he thought he--

Damian sighed quietly. “Jon.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re grinding your teeth in my ear.”

“Oh! Sorry. You…you can hear that?”

“Everything about you is loud.”

Jon rolled his eyes and bumped the side of Damian’s head with his own. He finally actually processed what Damian had been sketching: It looked like a bunch of weapon designs. Swords and hammers and axes and stuff. “Whatcha working on?”

“You know how Conrad is a dumbass?”

“I refuse to be on record agreeing with that.”

“He’s terrible at thinking up new constructs quickly, but has a sharp memory, so I was thinking I’d give him some detailed designs for basic weapons when he gets home.”

Jon swallowed down a feeling that didn’t make sense. “Ah, that’s sweet of you.”

“It’s practical. Sentiment has nothing to do with it.”

“You’re allowed to like, admit that you like doing things for your boyfriend.”

Damian sucked his teeth. “If it’s obvious, why would I need to say it?”

Jon considered that for a minute. “I guess that’s fair. I like that hammer over there, third from the top.”

Jon heard Damian bite his cheek. “Oh, I don’t know if I’ll show him that one--”

“It’s two hands with their fingers all laced up, right? That’s cool, especially given Conrad’s whole deal.”

Two heartbeats that were slightly faster than normal were the only indications Jon got that Damian was a little embarrassed. “Well…yes, that was the idea.”

“You wanna hold his hand, huh?”

“Jon, get off of me.”

Jon wrapped his arms around Damian’s shoulders. “You miiiiiiss hiiiiim.”

“I will stab you in the eye with this pencil.”

“It’s normal to miss people you’re dating.”

“It hasn’t even been three weeks, I’m not so needy.”

“Oh yeah? I mean, would you even let me touch you this much if he was around? I’m basically just keeping a seat warm.” Jon winced as soon as he finished letting that disaster of a sentence dribble out of his mouth. He could feel his friend’s muscles tense.

Damian got up, gently pushing Jon off on him in the process. He turned to affix his sharp gaze on him, seeming confused and somewhat concerned.

Jon would have preferred him looking annoyed, actually.

“Jonathan…are you alright?”

Jon did his best to play it off. “Yeah, of course. I was just teasing you.”

Damian didn’t look convinced. “Well…if you’re sure--”

Jon flashed a smile and patted him on the shoulder. “Totally. I’m more worried about you though.”

“You’re trying to redirect me.”

“If you don’t let me, I’m going to hug you again.”

Damian sighed. “You people are so violent.”

Jon raised his eyebrows, and Damian smirked. “‘You people?’ What do you mean ‘you people?’”

“You know, the clingy ones that dress in blue and wear a symbol that is clearly an ‘S’ but they insist isn’t one, despite the fact that the House of Zod’s emblem is clearly a ‘Z’ so--”

“That’s a coincidence! If that’s how it worked, then our crest would look like an ‘E,’ we’re not the house of ‘Sel.’”

Damian looked defiantly up into Jon’s eyes. “I think an ‘E’ would look better. ”

Jon blew a freezing blast of air over him, and he gasped out a laugh as he tried to avoid it. “Hey! Stop that!”

Jon spent a moment chasing him around the room, before he ran out of breath. After, Damian was hugging himself and shivering, but still smiling. Jon crossed his arms. “That’s what you get, 'elf off the shelf'.”

“You’re such an asshole!”

“Me?!”

“I’m freezing! What if I die, hmm? What if I go into shock, and just die in front of you, and suddenly you’ve murdered ‘Damian Carlisle Wayne,’ and have to go to--hey!” Jon interrupted him with a bear hug that he was too sluggish from the cold to dodge in time.

Jon held him tight. “Yeah, yeah I’ll warm you up, crybaby.” He paused. “…’Carlisle?’”

Damian clearly sounded embarrassed this time. “Oh. Um. That’s…Conrad has this stupid running joke where he says my full name but adds a random middle name every time.”

Jon squeezed his eyes shut. “Ah, that’s pretty good. I think you’d be a Jerry.”

“You’re in biting distance.”

“So are you.”

“...Touché.” 

Jon focused really hard and vented just a little of his solar reserves. A teeny tiny bit, just to raise his temperature and warm Damian up faster. He was actually pretty proud at how much control he had over that now, the idea that he’d blow up by accident seemed ridiculous. Dumb stupid evil alternate timeline Tim. “That better?”

Damian growled under his breath. “...Yes.”

Jon giggled. “You sure you don’t wanna come over for dinner tonight? Kara and Dad are both back from their space things.”

Damian shook his head. “No, Duke and Cassandra want me to come with them to take Black Mask down, I need to be ready to go.”

Jon squeezed him a little tighter. “Oh. Well…it’s the summer, I can stay out a little later, especially cause I’m almost fourteen, so if you want I could maybe help?”

Damian shook his head. “I appreciate it, but that’s alright. It’s Duke, Cassandra and myself, frankly It’s already overkill.”

Jon bit his lip. “Ah, okay, well--”

“Besides, the way you start giggling sometimes when people shoot you kind of kills our mystique.” 

Jon scoffed. “It’s not my fault they don’t use big enough caliber bullets to do anything but tickle me. A 50. cal could almost kind of theoretically hurt.”

Damian snorted. “Uh-huh. Sorry chuckles, we're finally free of one clown, that doesn't mean we need anoth--ow! Stop! I thought we were both joking about the biting--Jon!”

[hooked-on-elvis]

"It's Still Here" (1973)

Recorded on May 19, 1971 at RCA’s Studio B, Nashville, TN. Released on July 16, 1973. Album: Elvis (Fool)

MUSICIANS Piano: Elvis Presley, Bass: Norbert Putnam. * The complete recording of “It’s Still Here” runs 4:40, including a breakdown in the middle of the take; it was edited down to 2:05 for the initial master.

--

RECORDING SESSION Studio Session for RCA May 15–21, 1971: RCA’s Studio B, Nashville On the night of May 15 RCA’s Studio B had been decorated for an early Christmas. A tree with beautifully wrapped empty boxes stood in the center of the room, but Elvis brought real gifts for the musicians and his own associates — gold bracelets engraved “Elvis '71.” All the players from the June 1970 sessions were back, and again there were no backup singers present. With no personnel changes and as few distractions as possible, Felton expected to be able to get all of Elvis’s recording done in short order and save all the sweetening for later. BACKSTORY: The studio was decorated for Christmas in May most likely to create the right mood for the musicians - specially to inspire Elvis himself, since everybody knew how much of a Christmas enthusiast he was. During that session they would cut songs that would be release in the same year, 1971, on the then upcoming album "Elvis Sings The Wonderful World Of Christmas", as well as begin to record songs for the following albums - a contemporary music album and a gospel album. The Christmas decoration might have helped but fact is Elvis was in a great mood during those May recording sessions, cheerfully joking with everybody in the studio, even showing off his karate skills, while keeping himself seriously engaged in doing his best work, specially with the religious songs. His light mood is quite intriguing since what happened to him a little time prior to that recording session. During a recording session on March 15-16th 1971, Elvis felt a striking pain on his eye and left to see a doctor, ending up being diagnosed with glaucoma.

Excerpt from book "Elvis What Happened" by Red West, Dave Hebler and Sonny West as told to Steve Dunleavy (1977).

Elvis leaving an eye doctor's office in Beverly Hills sometime in late 1971.

That year, 1971, was the beginning for the dark sunglasses era. Elvis took it all lightly, joking around with people about his serious health condition. One of those people was Kathy Westmoreland, to whom Elvis said, after showing her his collection of sun glasses:

"If I have to wear the damn things," Elvis smiled, making fun of himself, "I'm gonna have one in every color." Excerpt from "Elvis and Kathy" by Kathy Westmoreland (1987).

After the brief hospitalization and the emergency eye treatment, Elvis got right back into the recording studio in Nashville considerably fast.

— A LITTLE BIT OF THE RECORDING SESSION ON MAY 19, 1971 WHEN "IT’S STILL HERE" WAS RECORDED: During the day Elvis slept, but for most of the members of the band it was business as usual—sessions all morning and afternoon. When they came back to work nights with Elvis, Felton had an unwritten rule prohibiting anyone from yawning in the studio—for fear that it might “bring down” his star—and he insisted that the musicians take their breaks in the parking lot. And even Elvis made a trip to their “outdoor lounge” when he became bogged down in “Seeing Is Believing,” a new tune Red West had just frantically completed. Otherwise, though, he kept focused throughout the evening, actively directing the band, patiently discussing the backing parts with the female singers. Jerry Reed’s “A Thing Called Love” was completed with an elaborate vocal arrangement that featured bass singer Armond Morales in a unison part with Elvis throughout the song. References to the previous evening’s gunplay were flying, and after a while Elvis noticed how upset the Imperials became whenever he struck a karate pose. It was another night of good-humored ad-libbing. “He left the splendor of RCA—of Victor,” he sang self-referentially after one verse of “Listen To The Bells”; “went back to Sun Records. …” The next take of “A Thing Called Love” collapsed, and Felton as always deflected blame from Elvis onto the newcomer, Joe Moscheo. But Elvis, ever gracious when he was in good spirits, just changed the opening line of the song from “Six foot six, he stood on the ground” to “Three foot four …” and dedicated the song to Charlie Hodge. After the meal break the atmosphere changed. Determined to capture the mood he achieved while performing at home, Elvis sat down at the piano for an impassioned yet unassuming solo set. Two of the three songs he chose had been favorites as far back as his days in Germany: “I’ll Take You Home Again Kathleen” and Ivory Joe Hunter’s “I Will Be True,” both of which he’d recorded on his home equipment in Bad Nauheim. This old material was hardly what Felton or RCA were looking for in an Elvis session, but Al Pachucki was ready with the tapes rolling just the same. The most moving of the three was another Ivory Joe Hunter song, “It’s Still Here,” but later Felton excitedly reported to the Colonel that with overdubs they all would make “great tunes,” keen to convince both Elvis and his manager of their commercial potential.

Excerpt: "Elvis Presley, A Life in Music: The Complete Recording Sessions" by Ernst Jorgensen. Foreword by Peter Guralnick (1998)

AFTERMATH Five albums were out a while before the "Elvis (Fool)" album could be released in 1973. Following the 1971 Christmas album was the contemporary music album, "Elvis Now", and then the gospel album "He Touched Me" preceding two live record releases, the "Elvis: As Recorded At Madison Square Garden" (1972) and the "Aloha From Hawaii Via Satellite" (1973) albums, and just then the "Elvis (Fool)" album was made by putting together songs recorded during the May 1971 recording session as well as songs taped during recording sessions in February-March 1972.

"IT'S STILL HERE" — LYRICS Songwriter: Ivory Joe Hunter The day you said we'd never part You turned around and broke my heart You had the nerve to tell me I would soon forget Now you've been gone away one year And I have not forgotten dear The love I had for you so long Is still here Wow-oh It's here, still here Because my heart cannot believe We're really through And though you said we'd never part You turned around and broke my heart The love I had for you so long Is still here It's here, still here Because my heart cannot believe We're really through Now you've been gone away one year And I have not forgotten dear The love I had for you so long Is still here Wow-oh It's here, it's here, still here Because my heart cannot believe We're really through And though you said we'd never part You turned around and broke my heart The love I had for you so long Is still here Wow-ow It's here, still here Because my heart cannot believe We're really through And though you said we'd never part You turned around and broke my heart The love I had for you so long Is still here Oh yeah

UNEDITED MASTER (4:45)

ORIGINAL RECORDING Ivory Joe Hunter (1968)

[stranger-marauders]

unbreakable

six: the party

chapter summary: Kate decides to take a different approach to navigating Steve’s party. Steve worries about Kate, but he wants to be with Nancy more.

chapter warnings: language, alcohol use/intoxication, mentions of an alcoholic parent, steve is a bad friend, stancy

word count: 4.8k

series masterlist | masterlist

STEVE HAD ALREADY ensured Kate’s presence at the party later that night by bringing her straight to his house after school.

Of course, there was nothing unusual about her being inside of his home. Kate had stayed at his house more times than she could possibly count on Tuesday nights alone, never mind if one considered the other days in the week. Normally on party nights, though, she didn’t like to stay if she could help it. Something about sleeping in a room across the hall where her best friend was getting his weekly lay wasn’t comforting.

For now, they both sat at his dining room table, trying their hardest to finish their homework. Steve had turned on the radio to play in the background, the newer songs playing more often than the older ones. When he had stood up to turn the volume knob up slightly on the radio to hear “If Anyone Falls,” Kate knew he was kissing her ass. It didn’t take much brainpower for her to figure out he was trying to better her mood through the power of Stevie Nicks.

It wasn’t her fault that things were awkward. The tension that hung in the air was just the same as all of the other evenings spent together before his parties: they’d both already begun anticipating the outcome of the night.

“Is there something you’d like to say?” Kate finally asked, not looking up from her math homework.

Steve immediately began fumbling over his words. “Oh, I, uh… No. No, no, you’re great. Perfect, even.”

“Hm,” she hummed softly, still focused. “You know, I still don’t understand why I have to be here.”

“Because you’re my best friend,” Steve replied. 

She only glared at him in response. 

“Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that.” He paused whenever Kate rolled her eyes. “Look, it’ll be fun just like it always is, okay? Promise.”

“Fun, my ass,” Kate mumbled under her breath, focusing even more on her homework.

“It will be, okay? Also, I definitely need your support. I can’t do this shit without you, you know that. It’s not the same.”

She sighed almost inaudibly, shaking her head slightly without looking up from her work.

“I know you love me,” Steve said, watching her carefully for her reaction. When she didn’t reply, looking completely unfazed, he cleared his throat. “Hey, I, uh… I–I almost forgot. My mom restocked the liquor cabinet if you want anything. I know it’s—”

“Sure, I could totally do a shot right now.”

His head quickly snapped back in her direction. “A shot?”

Yeah, preferably nine millimeter. “Calculus sucks, Steve.”

Steve put his hands up in surrender. “Look, I–I’m not doubting that, seriously, I just—” He stopped to look at his watch. “It’s not even five o’clock yet, Kathy.”

“All the more reason to do it,” she replied, her eyebrow quirking upward slightly. Whenever his worried expression didn’t change, however, Kate sighed, shaking her head once. “Look, just open the riesling and we’ll call it even.”

His stomach churned at the thought of giving her a glass of wine, even if it was just wine. Kate had never been much more than a social drinker, and he’d never been given an exact reason why. Steve could only assume part of it was because of her father’s alcoholic tendencies. He thought that maybe part of it was because she liked watching him make a fool out of himself when he was drunk himself (because he absolutely made a fool out of himself, even if he didn’t want to admit it). Steve had never gained the courage to ask directly because he didn’t want to bother her about it, even if he thought it would take some of the anxiety away. Nonetheless, he always asked her if she wanted something while they were at his house, just in case she ever decided to drink with him alone.

Steve, however, hadn’t been prepared for the change in answer tonight. “You sure nothing’s wrong?”

She groaned, rolling her eyes. “Oh my God, I’m fine. I just need a break, you know? Thought you’d be thrilled at the sound of that, honestly.”

He shrugged in return—her answer hadn’t made him feel any better. “Fine. Riesling it is.”

“And none of that sliver of a glass shit, we’re denting it.”

Steve snorted before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. The thought of drinking a noticeable amount of wine with her before the party began slightly disturbed him, but he didn’t want to make waves. For the first time in a long time, Kate was willing to let loose in more ways than one, and he wasn’t going to question it. Not yet. None of it, however, stopped him from worrying about her.

Kate, on the other hand, knew that if she tried hard enough, she could finally fall numb to the pain that Steve Harrington caused her on nights like this one: the same pain she couldn’t even begin to explain, even if she tried.

She didn’t think it was a problem. She’d watched her entire life as people drank away their problems. Besides, she didn’t think she would have any fun if she didn’t drink. Quite frankly, she wasn’t in the mood for any of Steve’s typical behavior, and she certainly didn’t think she was ready to deal with Tommy or Carol, either. 

That was why the alcohol went down rather quickly. Out of wines, she certainly liked riesling more than most, mostly because it didn’t taste like alcohol, but she didn’t like it enough to go through three cups of it before Tommy and Carol arrived.

By the time Nancy and Barbara had arrived at the Harrington residence that evening, Kate hadn’t had too much to drink, at least not in her opinion. Steve, however, had grown increasingly worried.

He could barely recognize the girl that sat in front of him now. There was something unsettling about the way she was currently, something about her sprawled out on the couch with a beer can in her hand that made him tick. That was his Kathy, not Tommy’s nor Carol’s, even though the way she was sharing the couch with her currently proved otherwise. She didn’t seem anything like herself, and that was something that completely horrified him.

Even though Steve was concerned, he still didn’t do anything to stop her.

As the alcohol slowly invaded her bloodstream, Kate felt the buzz within her. The buzz that only told her more, more. She didn’t dare refuse, but she obeyed as she let the alcohol burn in her system like fuel. She finally understood why her father was an alcoholic: for once, he was finally able to feel something. For all those years, she never quite understood the fire that ignited once it entered your system. Now, though, she understood it, and she wasn’t afraid of it in the slightest.

Whenever the doorbell rang, Kate looked at Steve, watching him for his reaction. Her eyes traced over him as he smiled for half a second, almost like for a moment he thought that Nancy wasn’t actually going to come, and he ran his hand through his hair as he went to open it for her. 

Carol groaned. “I really don’t understand what he sees in this one.”

“Me neither,” Kate said softly, finishing what was left of her can of beer. “I want another one.”

The redhead turned to her, giving her a confused look. “Another one? Seriously?”

She shrugged. “What? It’s not like I’m drunk or anything.”

“Yeah, you also haven’t stood up since you stopped drinking the wine.”

Tommy chuckled from across the room, sitting in one of the big comfy chairs with a beer in his hand. “Yeah, Harrington’s been your beer bitch all night.”

Kate leaned her head back over the armrest, her vision moving a tick behind. She giggled at the sensation. “I’m not that fucked up. My eyes are just a little… slow.”

“Slow?”

Before she could answer the question, her attention was snagged by Steve, as well as Nancy and her friend’s newfound presence in the living room. Kate almost rolled her eyes instinctively—what type of person took their best friend to a hookup? She very quickly, however, remembered her place in this situation as the other party’s best friend who had been brought to a hookup.

“All right, you guys wanna go out back?” Steve asked, looking at Nancy, then Kate. It was almost like he was looking for their approval.

“Let’s go, Harrington,” Tommy said, not needing another hint. “I’ve been waiting for this all day.”

Whenever Kate stood up off the couch, she realized how heavy her head felt, and she became self-aware of how much she’d actually had to drink, even if she couldn’t remember exactly what she’d consumed. When she regained her balance, taking a few careful steps to ensure she was fine, she knew that this was the most drunk she’d ever been. That didn’t, however, stop her from grabbing another beer whenever she went outside.

It also didn’t stop her from drinking two or three more. She couldn’t remember how many she’d had now, but it had been enough where time seemed to be whizzing by and simultaneously not moving at all. Kate tried not to pay too much attention to the group as a whole, mostly because she didn’t want to think about any of it. Currently, Tommy was trying to throw Carol into the pool, and Steve was attempting to flirt with Nancy. On occasion, Barbara talked to her, tried to make the situation better for the two of them, but Kate could hardly stand any of it. 

In hindsight, she didn’t know why she thought drinking would somehow better the situation. She should have known that her tolerance for bullshit was greatly lowered whenever she started drinking, and she especially should have known that it would diminish to even lower standards if she got this drunk. Of course, Kate hadn’t prepared for that. She hadn’t even thought to prepare for that. 

Something else she hadn’t thought to prepare for was how much she’d feel. Kate hadn’t truly realized how much she’d cared about all the girls he fucked around with until she’d gotten so drunk, until he’d flirted with Nancy right in front of her. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. How was a person supposed to feel whenever their best friend was flirting with someone else in front of them? It was absolute bullshit, especially when she loved him—

Oh.

Kate tried to push it out of her mind. She didn’t want to think about what all of that meant. Right now wasn’t the time for that. Her brain was fuzzy, and that was without the emotional turmoil going on inside of it currently. No, this was a tomorrow issue. That was if she remembered that she’d even had the thoughts in the first place.

“You okay?”

The two words halted Kate’s thoughts like they were a brick wall, making her turn to the source: Barbara. “Hm?”

“I said, ‘are you okay?’” Barbara asked again. “You look like you’re in your head, or something.”

Kate hesitated, nodding. “Y–Yeah.”

Barbara pulled her chair closer to her, watching the rest of the group that Kate seemed to be fixating on, though possibly not on purpose. “Some party, huh?”

“Yeah,” Kate said, slurring her words. “I just got… dragged along. You know? Just like I, uh… Just like I normally do.”

She shook her head. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“This,” Barb said, gesturing out to the people in front of her. “All the time. I don’t get it.”

Kate shrugged. “I don’t know. You… You get used to them. After a while.”

“I just…” She hesitated to go on. “You’re just so different from the rest of them. Tommy and Carol and Steve, I mean. How are you even friends with them?”

She shrugged again. “I’m not, really. Just friends with Steve.”

“Like that’s much better.”

Kate chuckled in response. “You know, they’re tolerable whenever you’re around them all the time. Steve is… He’s been a good friend, for the most part.”

Barb shook her head. “If he was a good friend to you, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Couldn’t you say the same thing about Nancy?” Kate asked. “She obviously dragged you here, too.”

She sighed softly. “Yeah, but Nancy… She doesn’t do anything like this normally, you know? This seems… a little too normal for you to be here all the time.”

Kate sighed, taking another sip of her beer. “What can I say? He needs me.”

Barbara turned back to watch Nancy interact with Steve once again. “I think you care too much about him. Much more than he deserves, anyway.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she replied, turning back to look at the blonde. “You deserve more than that, Kate. A lot more.”

She shrugged carelessly, taking another sip of beer as she watched Steve carefully. God, she hated him. She hated his stupid hair, his stupid crush on Nancy Wheeler, the stupid cigarette that sat tucked behind his ear, the stupid flask he had in his hand. She hated herself for every decision she’d ever made that led up to her sitting outside at Steve’s house in the dark in November, freezing her ass off while she drank shitty beer just to feel something.

She quickly became distracted again when Steve had finally stood from his chair again, throwing the cigarette he’d been smoking to the ground. She watched him carefully as he pulled a pocketknife from his pocket and cut a hole into the bottom of his beer to shotgun what was left of it, just to pull the cigarette from behind his ear to smoke it once he’d thrown the can to the ground.

Of course, Nancy had been watching, too.

“Is that supposed to impress me?” she asked, obviously not as impressed as Steve would have hoped.

“You’re not?” he asked, the cigarette still hanging out of his mouth.

“You are a cliché. You do realize that?”

“Okay, party girl. Why don’t you just, uh, show us how it’s done, then?” he said, finally lighting the cigarette that still sat between his teeth.

“Okay.”

Kate found herself shocked beyond belief. She couldn’t believe that Nancy was falling for Steve’s tricks, not even a good one of his, and she could only watch in silence. Of course, Barbara was also watching her friend in utter disappointment.

Up until now, Barbara had always been under the impression that Nancy would have never done anything like this. Her best friend had never exactly been boy-crazed or anything of the sort, which was why the scene unfolding in front of her confused her even more. She didn’t seem like Nancy at all.

As she watched Nancy and Steve now, Kate mulled over Barbara’s words in her head. She couldn’t stop thinking about what she had said, the first thought that had come into her head right after she’d spoken, because that couldn’t be it. She’d never thought about Steve like that, not really, and as she watched him now, it certainly didn’t help. Now wasn’t the time for it. It’s not like she wanted to think about him that way, but the more she tried to push the thoughts away, the more she couldn’t. Despite everything within her screaming “no” to her, more than ever before, Kate wished the girl that Steve was trying so hard to impress was her.

Kate had been brought back to reality whenever Nancy’s shotgunned beer can clattered to the ground.

“Why don’t you give it a try, Katie?” Tommy asked, taking a puff of his cigarette.

She almost didn’t understand what he was saying. “What?”

Steve shook his head, putting his arm out. “No. Absolutely not.”

Kate, however, didn’t seem to care what he thought. “No, I–I can do it.”

“No. You’re not doing it.”

“But—”

“No, okay? Don’t be stupid, you’re not—”

“Steeeevie.”

Steve quickly averted his gaze as he swallowed the lump in his throat, scratching at the neckline of his shirt. He hadn’t heard her call him Stevie since she’d first moved to Hawkins. After he’d quickly composed himself, his face still slightly pink, he looked back at her. “Kathy, please just stop. You’d never do anything like this if you weren’t so—”

“She can do it if she wants to, Stevie,” Tommy said, holding another beer can out to her.

“Yeah, I wanna try it, too. Stop telling me what to do,” she said, taking the can out of Tommy’s hand. 

“Kathy—”

Carol scoffed, cutting him off. “She’s not eight years old, Steve, she’s fine.”

Steve hesitated to speak again, his face taut. When Nancy hesitantly handed her the pocketknife, he sighed, running a hand through his hair absent-mindedly. He’d been so caught up in Kate and what she was doing that he hadn’t even noticed how Nancy was looking at him. Even Barbara had given him a glance and noticed his worried stature.

For the first time in a long time, Steve was nervous.

He didn’t know what it was that was making him nervous. It wasn’t like she hadn’t drank before, but he couldn’t ever think of a time when she’d ever drank that much. Steve thought maybe it was the way she’d been acting before the party, the carefree attitude she’d taken on that he’d almost willingly accepted just a few hours ago. He didn’t know what to think, but right now, all he could think about was her. 

The apparent tipsiness of his stature didn’t help. He wasn’t as drunk as Kate, sure, but he certainly wished he was less intoxicated than he currently was. His leg bounced slightly as he played with the neckline of his shirt, scratching the back of his neck. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, even if he wanted to. Steve, however, knew he couldn’t. Something in the back of his mind was screaming, begging for him to do something to stop her, but he couldn’t do that either.

All he could do was watch.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!”

Kate chugged the beer quickly. She had little control over her actions now, and once she was finished with it, she almost dropped to the ground with her beer can, it clanking on the concrete, but she caught herself. If she wouldn’t have, Steve had made himself ready to catch her instead. He only stared at her now as she was praised by Tommy and Carol, which was something he never thought he would see.

It wasn’t a secret that Kate and Tommy had had their differences over the years. Tommy hadn’t even given her a chance whenever she’d moved back to Hawkins, and that was something Steve had never been able to understand. Kate hadn’t done anything wrong yet, but it certainly didn’t help over the years that she hadn’t ever gone out of her way to be kind to him or Carol, for that matter. 

It wasn’t like Carol had been kind to her, either. While to her face she treated her fine, Steve couldn’t even begin to remember how many times he’d heard her say something about her whenever she wasn’t there. Maybe it was about her lack of makeup, how her hair was just a little too frizzy, her figure, or maybe the way she dressed—Steve had seemingly heard it all. 

That was why he couldn’t believe the scene he was watching in front of him: he never thought he’d see Tommy and Carol actually be kind to her.

Nancy looked at her best friend. “Barb, you wanna try?”

“What? No,” she answered quickly, turning to Nancy. “No, I don’t want to. Thanks.”

“Come on.”

Steve, even if he knew that she didn’t want to shotgun a beer, saw it as an opportunity to take the attention off of Kate. He didn’t want to know what else Tommy would convince her to do. “Come on. Yeah.”

Barbara lowered her voice as she turned to her friend. “Nance. I don’t want to.”

“It’s fun! Just give it a—”

“Nance…”

“Just… Just give it a shot.”

Seemingly tired of defending herself, Barbara finally stood up from her lawn chair. “Okay.”

Barbara had only agreed to do it so that right after she’d shotgunned her beer, she could disappear from the spotlight and take her place in the shadows once again. At that moment, she wondered why she hadn’t left hours ago, why she hadn’t made Nancy go without her, or even better, why she hadn’t made the both of them just go home. Suddenly, she remembered: she was only there so Nancy could be with Steve.

Barbara, however, had noticed something she would never tell her best friend, not unless Nancy asked her. While she had never truly talked to Steve Harrington or Kate Hopper before that day, before that night, really, she had noticed in just a few hours how the two cared for one another. Now she understood why everyone at school thought that they were secretly together. Barbara had no idea why Nancy would even try to pursue him: it was more than obvious that Steve Harrington cared about Kate Hopper more than anything else in the entire world, and that was more than any girl, Tommy and Carol, even, and nothing could take that away from him, no matter what.

That was when Barbara realized that Steve didn’t even know that he was in love with his best friend.

When Barbara took the knife from Kate’s hand, Steve took another drag on his cigarette.

“So, you just…” Barbara trailed off when she cut herself on the knife, the can rolling swiftly out of her hand.

“Gnarly,” Tommy said, snickering.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked, worry lacing her voice and etching her face.

“Yeah.”

Whenever she looked down at her hand, however, Nancy thought otherwise. “Barb, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” she said bitterly. Without another word, she looked at Steve. “Where’s your bathroom?”

Steve jumped up quickly, his own intoxication level showing slightly whenever he stumbled as he stood. “Oh, it’s… it’s, uh, down past the kitchen, to–to the left.”

As she walked away, Steve sighed. In a way, he felt guilty for the thought, but he was simply glad that it hadn’t been Kate who cut her hand open. When he looked at his best friend, he almost hadn’t noticed that she, currently, was taking her sweater off. 

“Kathy.”

“What?” she asked somewhat whiny once she’d gotten her sweater over her head. “Tommy said I wouldn’t do it!”

When Steve quickly shot a look of anger in his direction, Tommy shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Look, I didn’t think she would actually do it.”

Steve sighed, trying to get her attention. He gulped whenever her sweater was thrown onto the ground, leaving her only in a black bra and her jeans. He knew he’d seen her in less before, but that wasn’t something he wanted to think about. Not whenever she still looked that pretty without a sweater on. Not the girl, nor the time for anything like that.

“Kathy. Stop it.”

Even with Steve calling her name, she only seemed to ignore him. It wasn’t too long before Tommy dared her to take off her jeans too and Carol slapped him in response. At that point, Steve thought he could have killed him, but now he was too focused on the fact that she was trying to take her pants off.

“Kathy—”

“No, Stevie, it’s fine. It’s a… It’s a pool party anyway, right?” she slurred, fumbling with the button on her jeans. “Can’t swim in… in your clothes.”

Just before Kate could undo the button on her jeans, Steve panicked and pushed her into the pool. Tommy followed quickly behind him, shoving Carol in first. Steve even got to push Nancy in before he front-flipped into the pool after her.

Whenever she’d hit the water, Kate had almost frozen to death. When she finally emerged from the water, she shivered as she took in what was happening around her. It all seemed like a blur as Tommy and Carol made out, as Nancy chased Steve, who had taken one of her shoes. Now she could only hope that she wouldn’t turn into an ice cube. As she looked out into the trees behind Steve’s backyard, she could have sworn she saw something, someone, but she quickly forgot about it. She could barely register anything to begin with.

It hadn’t been too long before Steve had carried Kate out of the pool, wrapping a towel around her.

“Tha… Thank you,” she slurred, still shivering from the cold.

He sighed, letting go of her arms and looking away from her. “You’re so drunk.”

She scoffed seemingly overdramatically. “No, I’m not! I’m not drunk! I’m just cold.” She giggled—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard her giggle like that before tonight. “I’m going to steal a sweatshirt from you, Stevie.”

Steve thought he was about to tear at the seams. “O–Okay.”

Before Kate skipped away, she bopped his nose lightly with a quiet “boop.” She didn’t even acknowledge the rest of the group before she happily made her way up the stairs to Steve’s room.

Now wasn’t the time to lose it. Even if Kate was driving him absolutely insane at the moment, he couldn’t lose it. It wouldn’t be fair to Nancy. It already wasn’t fair to her that he was stuck having to take care of his drunk best friend, but he couldn’t do anything to fix that. All he could do now was put her to bed and hope that he still had a chance with Nancy.

“She’s wasted,” Tommy said, almost snickering. It was like he couldn’t believe it. “I mean, can you believe it? Hopper, this wasted? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her pick up more than three drinks in a night, never mind this.”

Steve couldn’t even begin to formulate a response before Carol spoke on the matter.

“You know, I never thought she’d break out of her shell. Not with Daddy being police chief and all—”

“Don’t talk about her that way,” Steve said sharply, cutting Carol off before she could say anything else about her. “She’s just… She’s just drunk. She probably won’t even remember any of this tomorrow.”

“Aw,” Carol responded. “Is Stevie worried about his little Katie?”

Steve didn’t know whether it was the amount of stress he was currently feeling or if it was the amount of alcohol he’d ingested that night, but, for once, he dropped the façade and spoke his mind. “Yeah, I am.”

Whenever no one responded to him, Tommy cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well,” he started, quickly trying to change the subject, “I hear his mom’s room has a fireplace.”

“Are you kidding?”

Of course, Tommy and Carol both ignored him. “Oh yeah?”

Steve shouted louder at them as they walked toward his mother’s room. “Okay, well, you know, you are cleaning the sheets.”

Whenever the couple had closed the door to the room, closing them off from the rest of the house, Steve turned to Nancy. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” Nancy gave him a tight-lipped smile, almost sympathetic. She might not have known him for long, but he could see the stress he was currently under, even if he tried to act like he didn’t care about anyone.

“Yeah, come on. Let’s get you some dry clothes. We can go check on her, too.”

“We should probably do that anyway, right? With her being that drunk?”

He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck as they began to walk up the staircase. “Probably.”

Before Nancy could make it all the way up the stairs, however, someone called for her. “Nance!”

She turned around to find Barbara, waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase. “Nancy. Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” she replied innocently, almost as if she didn’t know what was about to happen. “Just… upstairs. To change. I… fell in the pool.” She stopped to chuckle at herself, but when Barbara didn’t laugh, she continued on. “Why don’t you go ahead and go home? I’ll just… I’ll get a ride or something.”

“Nance…”

“Barb. I’m fine.”

However, Barbara definitely didn’t think it was fine. “This isn’t you.”

As she spoke, Nancy didn’t know if she was reassuring her best friend or reassuring herself. “I’m fine. Just… go ahead and go home, okay?”

Without another word, Nancy walked up the rest of the stairs to meet Steve in his room.

next chapter

[acaplaya-musings]

A random assortment of Geoff Castellucci pictures - Part 3

Y'all seemed to enjoy part 1 and part 2, so here, have a part 3! Featuring pics of Geoff from videos where I haven't already saved any screencaps from (not counting Voiceplay Visuals posts), but where he still looks really good anyway. And so because this one involves me going back and rewatching certain videos for the purpose of screenshot grabs (always nice to have another excuse! <3), these pictures are going chronologically by video, oldest to newest, rather than alphabetical by title. And again, featuring little bits of thoughts/commentary from yours truly. This one ended up being longer than part 2 as well, so enjoy!

(Everything below the cut as like the previous posts!)

Starting off strong my fam!!

I said as much in my VoicePlay Visuals post I think but this is honestly one of Geoff's best "shorter (or at least shorter-ish) hair" looks imo. Like look at those waves and curls! To! Die! For!

Also the open shirt with the popped collar is such a look and I kinda wanna see Geoff with a popped collar more often tbh

Also on the Panic Medlry Part 2 video someone commented "Is it just me or is Geoff extra hot in these last two vids". VoicePlay replied with "It's not just you. There was no air conditioning. ;)" XD

I forgot how hard it is to get decent pics of Geoff from this video, rip. I couldn't not include anything from it though! I mean come on!

Sir excuse me who gave you the right (and can they give you the right more often please)

I don't even know what it is in particular about this look that's so good but dear god everything just works and like, y'know, as I very frequently say: He's! So! Pretty!!!

Actually I do know one key component: his smile!!! <3

Well hello there good sir! 👀

Yet another video where Geoff smiles a lot and it's so lovely and nice but goddang is it hard to get a clear pic of him!

Yes a good portion of these pics is honestly just me showing some of my favourite Geoff smiles from different videos, and I apologise for nothing <3

Look, I love Geoff as a Disney villain, of course I do, he slays it absolutely every single time, but goddamn, I would love for more Disney Prince Geoff, in vibes/aesthetic if not any actual Disney song.

Also shoutout to one bit during Eli's When I'm Older section, where Geoff is looking off to the side and smiling <3 (smiling at Kathy? Maybe?)

(Oh and actually, between Sh-Boom and this video, I'm realising I kinda sorta wanna make a picture collection post for Layne as well - he does have some good looks sometimes! Nothing Else Matters, Hellfire, Warriors, y'know?)

Jumping ahead 1.5 years now!

Butter is such a fun video - everyone looked like they had such a great time!

If I Were A Rich Man/Girl MY ABSOLUTE BELOVED

The fluff in the hair, the visible bit of white/grey, the shirt, the smile!!! This video has me so weak y'all <3

Honestly Geoff looks phenomenal in almost every single medley video in particular and I love it (almost every medley - Greatest Showman Medley isn't in this photoset for the same reason that Kidnap The Sandy Claws and Hide And Seek aren't, lol)

(Also appreciation for the long-sleeve shirt behind rolled up to the elbows 👀)

Geoff from like 2022 onwards was "I'm going to find a hundred different black outfits to wear in videos and I'm going to look good every time" /j

Couldn't help but include a pic from We Don't Talk About Bruno in this - he's so silly (affectionate) <3

Not including any pics of Disney Princess Geoff(tm) only because it makes me laugh too much XD (seriously even as soon as Ashley starts singing Isabela's part I already start giggling, and it does in fact get me every time, but you can find a couple of pics of it in my VoicePlay Visuals post for this video HERE

I haven't rewatched this video in a while, so I wasn't exactly sure what kinda quality of screencaps I was gonna be able to grab from it, but well... it delivered!!!

I said this in a comment on the video as well but whoever had the idea to have that little bit of breeze/wind blowing Geoff's (and Adriana's) hair back, you're a genius and I love you

Also DJ_410 has occasionally referred to Geoff having "puppy dog eyes" or something along those lines, and man, he ain't wrong!

Someone said in the comments of this video that "Geoff is slowly turning into a silver fox" and honestly so true bestie <3 (ages! like! fine! wine!)

Also love how you can see the full necklace in this one (fun fact: Geoff's wearing a white singlet underneath, but he actually deliberately ripped it open a little bit at the neckline, which is how we end up with this 👀)

Plus this is the closest we've come to Geoff wearing a upturned/popped collar since the Panic Medley!

I Love Drunken Sailor A Normal Amount

Okay so obviously I already had one image from this video already saved to my folder - my profile pic - but nothing otherwise, and man is this video a goldmine. The arms! The hair! The eyeliner!!!

We really were absolutely spoiled when it came to Sleeveless Geoff in 2023 quite honestly

And what better way to end this post than with the god-tier all around stunningness that is Geoff in Hellfire?

I mean come on he literally looks like a goddamn painting!

So that's all for now! I might at some point do a part 4 or something dedicated to Minis and/or Shorts, but I do have a couple of other post ideas in mind for later down the line, so we shall see!