#that weird feeling of being jealous of a wooden hand

[gay-baby-brig]

Ok so I need help. Besides Izzy struggling with his leg a little, what other disability representation was there on the show where it was actually a struggle and not just shown or hinted at. I need the episode numbers if you have them please 🥺🙏

[sdr2lovemail]

Could you write something about Sun and Moon being irritated/jealous that they can't kiss the reader (the maintenance worker one) with their mouths like a human can so the reader shows them about all the other ways to kiss? Like kissing Sun's hand up his arm to his cheek until he is giggling so loudly Vanessa thinks he's gone off his rocker, or gently kissing Moon's forehead all the way down to where his heart would be? Even better if the maintenance reader leaves behind little lipstick marks on their face for Monty and the gang to laugh about :D

Inspired by that one tumblr post about a guy walking out with a few lipstick kiss marks and then saying "you should see what they did to the other guy" in a stereotypical mobster voice before said other guy drunkenly walks out absolutely covered in lipstick marks, sfw of course I want Fluff I want Affection I want Lovey Dovey-ness if you think you could swing it, just the softest silliest thing you can write, and keep up the good work anywho :')

I have no mouth, and I must kiss. (GN Reader but they do wear lipstick) Synopsis: After a play full of heartbreak and tragedy, Sun realizes that he'll never be able to kiss you. You remedy the situation.

Notes: It's been almost 2 years since I've written a fnaf fic, I feel rusty. Help wanted 2 got me calling my old mans' numbers. That's a joke they never left my phone. Anon if you're still out there, I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labors.

Requests are open!

Children are very persuasive. While you originally came to the daycare to fix a broken screen, you’ve ended up in a play. Decked out with a foam sword, you act as the story’s brave knight. Once you’ve slain the dragon, a kid wearing a Monty hood, your princess awaits.

“My dear knight! You saved me from the evil dragon!” Sun swoons. Instead of his waist frills, he’s worn a bright yellow skirt. Dangling from a few of his rays was a princess cap. The bells on his wrist jingle as he clasps his hands. “Is there any way I can repay you?”

You press a hand against your heart and bow your head. “There is no need, Princess. Protecting you is my sworn duty.” You’d say your acting wasn’t half bad for an underpaid maintenance worker.

“The princess has to kiss the knight!” A kid called from the audience.

Sun felt rigid like his joints were locking up. He hoped you couldn’t hear his fans kicking on as his body temperature rose. He would love to kiss you but wanted the moment to be perfect. “N-now friend, we don-”

“Mr. Sun can’t kiss them! He doesn’t have a mouth!” Another kid argued. Something about what they said made Sun feel weird.

“Yes, he does! It just can’t open.” 

Sun lets out a huff, turning to you. “They’re getting cranky. It must be snack time. I’ll pass them out quickly. That way, we can spend time together!” He bounced on the balls of his feet, eager for you to stick around.

Your fazwatch pings with an alert: a S.T.A.F.F. bot got stuck in Monty Golf. “Oh, sorry, Sun. I have another job to do. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Sun would be frowning if his faceplate could move. He quickly perks up and sets his hands on your shoulders. “Right! Right, right, right, you have a job. Responsibilities! I’ll- I’ll see you at closing. Buh-bye, friend!” The jester waves you goodbye before sighing, hurrying to pass out snacks before someone throws a tantrum.

The rest of your day goes as smoothly as working as the Pizza Plex could be. It was after closing time, and you were doing your final tasks. The glamrocks were in their rooms, the S.T.A.F.F bots were on their set paths, and nothing on the floor needed fixing. The last place you needed to check on was the daycare. 

Walking through the big wooden doors, Sun is nowhere to be seen. You call his name, followed by Moon’s, but still nothing. Shrugging it off, you make your rounds, checking everything is in place. During the sweep, you could hear muffled words from a storage closet.

“Do you think they’ve kissed anyone, Moon? We can’t do that…” That was the unmistakable voice of Sun. “I wonder what it would be like. Hmph, even the glamrocks can move their mouths…” He grumbles.

When you open the door, Sun jumps like he’s been shocked. He scrambled to stand up. “Ah! Oh, hi! You’re here early!”

“It’s almost eleven. I’ve been here for almost thirty minutes.” You say, checking your watch. “What were you talking about?”

“Would you believe me if I said nothing?” The daycare attendant tilts his head, his faceplate spinning a bit.

“No, I would not.”

Sun sighs as he sits back on the closet floor, his legs crisscrossed and his hands holding his face. Taking a seat next to him, you ask him what’s wrong.

“I was just thinking about some stuff after our play. Moon and I can’t kiss you!” He flops over dramatically as if he’d heard tragic news. “Our face is stuck in this stupid smile!” He tugs on one of his rays, angry at his lack of facial mobility.

“Hey, I don’t mind that you guys can’t kiss me. There’s more to a relationship than that. Besides, there are other ways to kiss.”

This breaks him out of his kissless stupor. “There are? Tell me, tell me!” Sun practically shakes where he sits. “Better yet, show me!” He opens his arms wide, inviting you to do as you please.

Taking one of his large hands in your own, you place a kiss on the back of his hand, leaving a lipstick mark on the shiny plastic. While he didn’t have pupils, you could feel Sun’s eyes burning into you. He didn’t want to miss a single second!

The touch sensors in his arms and hands weren’t that sensitive. Kids sure did like to scratch, kick, and bite. But even so, he could still feel your lips pressing fluttering kisses to his casing. Laughter bubbled up in his voice box. 

Kiss after kiss lined Sun’s arm. Even if it left stains, this is one mess he could let slide. You took his other arm in your hands, mimicking your previous affections. Kissing back up his arms, you reach his faceplate. Sun’s giggling gets louder as your lips kiss the hard surface of his cheeks.

“Hey, your shift’s almost over. Get ready to clock out.” Vanessa’s voice rings from your watch. 

When you pull away to answer, Sun tries to follow your lips. “Alright, I’ll be at the office in a moment.” Sun lets out another round of laughter.

“Oh, you’re with him… Your pay gets docked when you stay overtime, you know. Make sure to leave before the shutters close.” With that last sentence, Vanessa cuts off her line.

With excited, shaking hands, Sun brings your face closer to his. “Keep kissing me! Please, please, please!” His begging is cut short as he listens to Moon say something. “Awww, but I’m not done!” Sun still gets up to turn the lights off, moping the whole way there.

Bright red optics suddenly appear in front of your eyes. The lights glow against your skin. Moon clicks a flashlight on, making his faceplate look more menacing than he probably intended. “You weren’t thinking about leaving, were you? Not when you haven’t given me the same attention Sun got, right?” 

“Oh, of course not, Moon!” Cupping his face in your hands, you leave a kiss mark on his forehead.

You bring your trail of kisses down to his nose, trailing along the curve, up to the corner of his eye. Moon lets out that raspy laugh of his. He tugs you closer, craving the warmth of your skin against the cold of his plastic.

He watched as you kissed down his face and neared his chest. “Sun was whining all day, worrying over us not being able to kiss you.” Moon snickered. “He was fretting over nothing, as usual. But I must admit, he’s right about some things.” 

His ‘breath’ hitched as he watched you kiss right where his heart would be. The fans in his chest cavity kicked into overdrive as they tried to cool his circuits, trying their best not to overheat. “Kissing you would be a dream.” 

Letting out a laugh of your own, you press another soft kiss on Moon’s chest. “I guess I’ll have to do the kissing for all three of us.” Punctuating your sappy sentence, you kiss their sculpted-on smile. An audible puff of air leaves the daycare attendant’s chassis.

 “Attention Pizza Plex Guests and Staff. The Pizza Plex’s doors will close in ten minutes.” An automated voice rang over the building’s speakers.

More alert than before, you get up from the closet door. “I gotta go!” You were not trying to spend the night here. “Bye, Moon. Bye, Sun. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget to wash that lipstick off!”

They weren’t really listening, absolutely high on kisses. For a few hours, they simply rest in the daycare’s storage closet, gushing to each other about you. Well, more Sun than Moon.

Once it was time for Moon to do his rounds around the Pizza Plex, he’d forgotten about the lipstick covering his exoskeleton. It wasn’t until Monty knocked on the glass of his room.

“You having a good night, Moon?” It was like the smirk in Monty’s voice was audible from his voicebox. “Seems like you had a lot of fun.”

Seeing his reflection in the glass, Moon lets out a growl. How could he forget to wash off all this lipstick? “Not a word of this to anyone.” Moon scratched his fingers down the window, leaving marks behind. He turns tail to head back to the daycare and wash the stains off of himself.

Unknowing to the lunar animatronic, Monty had already sent a message to all the other bots.

[wandering-pirate]

Mouthwashing Characters Headcanon

How the Crew Takes Care of You on Your Period

Captain Curly

Knows your cycle so well that he starts prepping his monthly Captain Curly Period Kit a week before it starts

The kit includes all hygiene products that you need including painkillers, five of your favorite chocolate bars and the best part: candid photos he had secretly taken of you, each with a note underneath

The notes ranged from awful period puns to sweet compliments. This man knows how to keep you happy, physically and emotionally

Whispers comforting words as you sob over a character’s death during movie night

Though once, it was about a cockroach getting pancaked on screen

"Babe, that roach? It’s in a better place now—cockroach heaven. Endless trash buffets, living its best afterlife”

Spoiler: it worked

Checks in on you throughout the day, either with a sweet “How’s my baby feeling?” text or by dropping into the room for a quick chat, always making sure you feel loved and cared for

He understands how hormones can mess up with your mood and always reassures you that he isn't going anywhere

Co-pilot Jimmy

The man has somehow mastered the art of finding all the right spots to massage when you're doubled over with cramps or just feeling downright miserable

What you don’t know is that he once secretly googled “how to massage girlfriend in pain” (in incognito mode cause his ego won't just let him ask outright)

Big mistake. Huge. He was immediately bombarded with nsfw content, all roleplay, mostly rough

Let’s just say it took half a day, several deep breaths, and a burning face before he stumbled onto an actual helpful website

Ever since then, he’s been sneaking off to “practice.” But it got a little weird one day

Every time you passed by, he’d be glued to his phone, staring at it with this weirdly intense look, and his free hand squeezing the air at different angles

“Uh… babe? Are you… hallucinating? Maybe some floating breast action?”

“Huh? Wha—no! Unless you’re jealous of the air now, darling. Should I be worried?”

It all paid off when you let out those godly noises he loved, his hands were massaging with just the right pressure and on the right places

To top it off, he even got an essential oil in your favorite scent

Not without drama, though—apparently, walking into Bath & Body Works fully hooded and masked with shades doesn't scream 'thoughtful boyfriend'. It screams robber

Mechanic Swansea

The man and his craftsman hands will do anything to make you comfortable

Need a hot compress? Heats up grains, puts it in a sackcloth bag and places it in your lower belly

On days when you feel ugly looking in the mirror? Secretly blurs them slightly with shampoo or soap

Cold hands? Wraps yours in his larger ones

The kids being too loud while you're in a damp mood? He'd play tea parties with them (he was crowned the princess of all dragons)

Before sleeping, he always lay the towel down at your side of the bed whenever you're at the bathroom

Even built you a custom wooden cabinet that dispenses pads and tampons efficiently. Always stocked because he secretly checks it regularly

You have to force him to sit or lay down with you when he would be silently stressing out on what more to do

"Swansea, love, you're all I need right now, just stay here with me"

Nurse Anya

The nurse uses her medical and psychological expertise like a pro, making your period feel a lot less miserable

Meds are always your bestfriend whenever your killer cramps hit and she made sure to always carry all kinds of painkillers and have every dosage for each pain scale you're in

Wincing and doubling down? she's quick to ask

"Scale of 1 to 10?"

Even when she’s busy, she finds little ways to remind you you’re not alone like leaving sticky notes with doodles of you or your favorite characters in places where you’ll find them

After noticing how you loved wrapping your feet in blankets, she got you matching fuzzy socks that you now have to wear whenever she’s around (because she’s wearing hers too)

Lovingly strokes your back and hair while you scream at reality show contestants for choosing the dumbest of choices

Very much amused and nods along every time you asked her if you're both witnessing the same stupidity

Intern Daisuke

The boy is sometimes dense but when it comes to you, he sure isn't incompetent

One day, when the bed was way too soft to escape from, you did the only logical thing: text him

"Hey Dai, can you buy me some tampons? forgot to buy some yesterday"

"Be there in 5 babe! (⁠づ⁠￣⁠ ⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠づ"

And he meant it

He gave the pharmacist a heart attack by storming in and loudly asking for a box of tampons

Proceeded to grill them on what brands were most likely to leak so he'd avoid them (no shame whatsoever)

Never arrived empty-handed. Along with the tampons, he’ll pick up a plushie, a cute keychain, a little hair accessory or literally anything he knows that will let him see your pretty smile

He’ll wrap you both up in comforters, flashdrive loaded with all your comfort movies, from romcoms to horror

The mission? Movie marathon until you're both knocked out

Despite shrieking at every jumpscare, he still kisses your forehead between scenes, like you’re the one who needs reassurance (Spoiler: he needed those forehead kisses more)

a/n: thanks so much for reading! headcanon requests are very much appreciated ʕ•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ

[eternal-love]

I’m having a really bad day today, gimmie some Benny smut I know you’ve got something in that brain of yours 🤍

LEAVE

Pairing: Benny Cross x reader

Summary: You try to leave Benny, but he has other plans.

Warning: smut, toxic relationship, Benny being a pathetic ass, reader has a child, Benny gets physically violent.

Note: Couldn’t deny Miss Cross herself y’know? 😏I know I’m not as good writing smut but I do my best for you. Hope you get better and this makes you feel better! 🫶💗

Also, this is heavily inspired by a combo @aust-een and I had about how Jeff held back a lot from what the real Benny could have been. I just know Benny wasn’t this quiet nonchalant thing. He was jealous, possessive and violent.

Your life was monotonous, you woke up, got ready, had breakfast, went to your job, put your with annoying customers, came back home, slept. Repeat. That was up until you met Benny.

Your life did a 180, in your routine and emotionally too. Benny was an interesting character, he was a mistery to a lot of people. And to you too, your friend warned you to not even look in his direction, he was always cruising for a bruising. Him and his bike were in for any sort of trouble. That’s what drew you to him.

Your last boyfriend was too plain, too vanilla. You often sought out a way to create any sort of tension. With Benny, that wasn’t necessary. He was the problem himself. With you having to bail him out of jail more times that you liked to admit it. A part of you knew this wasn’t healthy. Specially not for your son, he saw everything.

Benny lived in your house, so, obviously you were the head of the house, you worked and brought in the money. But Benny didn’t care, he flouted in and out the house as he pleased. Anxiety ruled over you, not knowing if he would come back or not. You could stay awake all night just waiting for him.

At some point, you knew it had to be over, it wasn’t healthy anymore and you spent days more stressed than happy. So you waited for him to come back. You had put your son to bed upstairs. Your leg bouncing as you drank a beer, you heard the front door open and you saw Benny come in, black boots stomping on the wooden floor.

“What are you doin’ awake still?” Benny spoke up as he saw you in the couch, his eyes a bit tired as well as his voice.

“Waitin’ for you.” You said, putting out the cigarette on the ashtray.

“You ain’t gotta do that.” Benny scoffed, he took his pack of Marlboro Reds out his pocket and lit up just one, he walked towards the kitchen and grabbed a beer. He looked around, no food. “No food tonight, I see. That’s how you care for your man?”

“It’s too late at night, only cooked for Robbie and I.” You said, you stared at him as he walked around. He just smirked in disbelief at what you said.

“What’s with the face?” He asked you as he came back to the living room, taking another hit from the cigarette.

“I want to talk to you about something.” You said, taking in a deep breath.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Benny rolled his eyes.

He had been off and weird lately, you had believed you were crazy but no, you started to accept that he was in fact different.

“I can’t live like this no more, Benny.” You confessed as you stood up, your hands on your hips. “This ain’t right. Not for me or my Robbie. I want you to leave.”

You said, it took everything in you to get the words out of you. Because you didn’t know how he would react.

Benny pressed his lips together as he took a deep drag from the cigarette, shaking his head. “That ain’t happening. I ain’t leavin’.”

Benny was hard headed and he did not follow nobody. If he was told to do something, he did the opposite, but you were tired. Of everything.

“It’s not a question, Benny. I can’t keep carrying on like this. It’s eating me alive.” You said, trying to appear firm as you stood up.

“You can’t keep carrying on like this?” He repeated your words, you could easily tell he was mocking you. “What else did you think this would be?”

You stared at Benny in disbelief, a part of you thought you could have changed him. Make him more responsible, more emotionally present, more anything, but no. He was still the same troublemaker you met. It hurt you to kick him out but there wasn’t any other choice.

“I just want you to leave. Get your things and leave.” You said, the words getting stuck in your throat.

“So you can bring in another man? Who you gonna bring next? Cal or that son of a bitch with the camera?” Benny accused you, he was very jealous and possessive. He didn’t like bringing you to meeting too much, specially not when Danny or Cal talked to you. There was a reason he didn’t let you meet up with Danny to do his interviews.

“What are you even talking about, Benny? This is about us. You and I!” You snapped, he always tried to blame others for everything, because in his own words ‘he never asked anyone for anything’.

“Don’t even yell at me. Watch it.” He said, his voice monotone.

“I’m tired of you leaving without saying anything. And expecting me to take you back. I can’t keep waitin’ on ya. I just can’t. So please, leave. Because I can’t handle you being a son of a bitch anymore.”

Oh, that set him on fire. You, calling him a son of a bitch. He didn’t like that. There was a silence in which he clenched his jaw, put out the cigarette into the decorative table by his side.

“Right?” Benny said calmly before he snapped. And he threw the decorative table to the floor, making the flower vase break down to little pieces.

You flinched, Benny had his violent outburst, you hadn’t quite gotten used to them yet. Throwing beer bottles or anything on his reach. His nonchalant demeanor was something that was only a façade to either give you the cold shoulder or appear more brave with the club.

As soon as he walked towards you, you backed off, only for Benny to grab you by the neck.

“Who do you think you are?” Benny growled, his voice always held that nonchalant tone to it. Which you hated. You never knew if he did this because he cared and wanted to stay or just for the fun of it. “I ain’t asking anything from you, so you can’t come here askin’ anything from me.”

Benny was so close to your face, his hand wasn’t really gripping your neck tightly but he was holding you hard enough to scare you.

“I ain’t gonna let you go around like one of them loose women. You’re mine. Mine. You get it?” Benny whispered in your ear.

But you wanted this to end. For your son.

“I ain’t doing this because I don’t love you. I do it for my son.”

“I really don’t give a shit about your son. Never did and never will, doll.” Benny scoffed. “I should listen to what you’ve told me, give you a baby so you can finally shut up. So that I’ll never be able to fully leave you.”

Benny placed his knee in between your legs, pressing it against your core. Making you shiver, most of the time, Benny having you by the neck turned you on immediately, and it was working right now.

“You don’t want me to leave, do you?” Benny purred in your ear. “No words now? Did the cat get your tongue?”

Benny leaned in and kissed your lips, the friction of his knee with your core sent shivers across your body. You wanted to rip off his clothes, and so he did. He ripped open your shirt, those cheap buttons didn’t stand a chance.

“How many times have I told you I hate these clothes? Mhm?” Benny whispered. It was a two piece set, the sleeveless button shirt and the matching shorts. It was a look that was in right now, you had wanted to fit in. Albeit, Benny didn’t enjoy it. “You want everyone to look, don’t ya? Everyone. There’s a reason why I got you that jacket.”

Benny pulled you to the couch, throwing you into it. The jacket was the one that had ‘Property of Benny’ in the back, made you wear it every time there was a meeting.

Benny got rid of his colors, his jacket and vest on the floor as well as his worn out white tshirt, he got on top of you. His lips finding their way to yours, you tasted the whisky on his lips, made you hum. You were enjoying how aggressive he got at times.

His hand traveled from your hair to your breast, squeezing it through your bra, you moaned on his lips, your back trying to arch but his body blocked you from doing so. Then his hand traveled all the way to inside your shorts, his touch feather-like as he caressed you over your underwear, your toes curled up at the feeling, you shivered once again.

“My doll is so desperate. I thought she wanted me to leave.” He kept rubbing you over your underwear. You let out breathy moans.

You wanted to deny it. But you couldn’t even speak properly. He wasn’t even doing anything extreme and you were already losing it.

He worked with his hands, he was so masculine. The smell of Marlboro Red filled your nostrils. It made you so— ugh. You couldn’t get enough of it, or him. Even if part of you hated it, there was something about him that you couldn’t reject.

“I’m gonna make sure— everyone in the fuckin’ street knows who you belong to. Alright?” Benny grunted as he undid his pants, he was as hard as he ever was when he’s with you.

And to be fair, your ex-in laws lived next door. You were in for a ride as soon as he pulled down your shorts and underwear. His boxers came down as well.

“Don’t be quiet.” Benny said, as he filled you up with his cock in one swift thrust.

“Motherfucker!” You moaned out loudly, loud enough to blush afterwards. You saw his smirk.

He liked how he got to you. How much you were willing to put up from him. His thrusts were anything but gentle, the sound of skin slapping, moaning and grunting filled the living room.

“You like it? Hmm?” Benny asked as he relentlessly fucked you in the couch, but this want his favorite position, not at all. He found it boring to say the least.

Your eyes were rolling back, your mouth open and filthy noises escaped your lips, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Move.” He said as he pulled out of you, you whimpered when you stopped feeling his cock. Damn, that’s how much you needed him.

Eventually he manhandled you, he threw you around until you were in all fours. He was behind you and without any sort of mercy, he pounded into you from behind, his cock filling you up, giving you pleasure like no other.

“Benny… p-please” You whined, it was too much, he was too much. All of him.

“What? I’m sorry, can’t hear you.” Benny said, as his hand reached to grab your throat, squeezing the air you had.

It was the adrenaline of having no air combined with the pleasure of it. It gave you too much ecstasy. You didn’t even remember the last time he fucked you like this.

“I’ll leave whenever I want.” Benny whispered in your ear as he kept choking you, you tried to grasp on whatever air was possible. But it was in vain, and after a while, he withdrew his hand from your throat and slowly made its way down to your clit.

That was your breaking point and you couldn’t hold back your moans anymore. Every moan that came out of you came from the deepest of your soul.

His hand worked wonders on your clit, making you feel overstimulated, waiting for that usual feeling for being close to the edge.

“Keep… g-going” you managed to mutter through the moans. As his cock kept filling you up, you knew no guy could ever compare to him.

Not even one. And you didn’t even dare to think of it. Afraid that he could read your mind and get mad.

“We’re gonna have a baby. So you won’t ever kick me out again. So that your brat of a son— knows his place.” Benny kept going even faster and harder, it seemed like he was on the edge. “And so that photographer son of a bitch knows that you’re taken.”

“Benny!” You yelled as Benny hit that sweet spot of yours, pleasure erupted as you finished, your muscles relaxing immediately.

He kept fucking you, for at least a minute more before you heard his voice falter, his breath ragged. “Oh, f-fuck…”

Benny filled you up, made sure to not waste a single drop of his cum. After all, he wanted you heavy with his baby in a few months. He couldn’t wait to see your son’s face. That little brat. Knowing his mommy wouldn’t get rid of him.

“So good for me…” Benny leaned over you, whispering in your ear. “If you tell me to do anything ever again, I’ll do the opposite. Okay?”

[bloogers-boogers]

Got inspired to write this from @cakerybakery post !! Love them

Lucifer couldn’t help himself from the mixture of dreaded feelings he was experiencing at that moment, unable to sleep after realizing his clone and… Adam, were.. they had something. It was weird to even acknowledge it but how could you not? When you caught the enemy being in the arms of your clone sharing a passionate kiss. It was like your world froze at that exact point.

He didn’t know his clones could get to that position of consciousness, until he drained all the images, memories and thoughts his clone gave him after being evaporated out from existence. He didn’t think… it would feel. It felt so much during that time he was given the task to get Adam to safety and be healed. He didn’t even order him to do it himself! He was asked to be taken to a healer not to be the healer. Dumb clone.

He sighed while placing both hands on his desk, clawing the wood from time to time, he couldn’t believe it but the proof was right there. In his brain from vivid memories, from fresh feelings... The clone had fallen in love with Adam, and Adam… he too, had fallen for the clone version of himself. Now the results from such things are imprinted on Adam’s face when he sees him.

Being stuck at his daughter’s hotel has given the unpleasant experience for both men to see each other.

It’s like, a pang of guilt but also awkwardness hits every time their eyes met. Adam was clearly in pain but also angry at him. And well, it was not ideal to visualize your enemy naked in bed after having hardcore sex with your clone self.

That clone was fucking freaky too, went beyond what he’d ever done with Lilith. Crazy kinky motherfucker, made it even ten times weirder to handle seeing Adam when all he can see was the man being pounded on the wooden bed he had hand made to keep him safe and comfortable when he was still in the first few days of recovery. Then being use to fulfill the dirtiest desires they had in mind.

He shook his head, shooing all those thoughts away. All he ever wanted now is to have never discover what had happened but if he hadn’t who knows how much deeper it could’ve gotten between those two.

The guilt was eating him alive. In a way. He had taken another love from Adam’s life. In a way… he had hurt Adam again.

“Dad?” Charlie called out from behind the door of his workshop, snapping him out from his inner conflicted monologue.

“Yes, apple pie?”

“The activities are about to start, if.. you want to join? We’ll be downstairs.”

“In a minute, pumpkin! I’ll be right there.”

Lucifer sighed heavily, puffing out his chest, cheeks full with air, fists clenched tightly. It wasn’t his fault. This shouldn’t be weird. He shouldn’t be the one hiding! He didn’t ask for Adam to fuck his clone, he didn’t ask for his clone to had fallen in love with Adam!

He will be fine.

.

.

.

He is not fine.

Lucifer watched carefully as Adam had been teamed up with three hound sinners, one who was awfully close and constantly flirting with him. And Adam seemingly entertaining it.

He was not in any way jealous, but he was particularly beyond furious on his clone behalf. How could he be so easy going with some hussy after the supposedly “love of his life” died in-front of him.

Adam was a slut. His only conclusion. After all, he does recall this is the same man that most likely shoved his manhood inside all heaven when he was still up there. He knows. Adam would brag that shit in their dumb yearly reunions. All the fucking time.

Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case all along with his clone. Maybe, all this time Adam just saw him as a fuck buddy while he was still at his care until he fully recovered back to his dick self.

No. That can’t be. There was a lot of… personal and tender exchanges the two had for it to be just seen as something light. It’s unlikely.

He breathed out the air he had trapped in, unaware that he popped the ball he held in his hands.

“Man! Now we have to get a new one!” He heard Angel dust groaned out annoyed.

But he didn’t care. He needed to talk to Adam. They’ve ignored this for too long.

[vhagarlovebot]

Thank you for opening up your requests!

Can I get a blurb or headcanons of Aemond with a cheating wife? He remains loving and loyal to her in spite of it and even turns the other cheek. But when it comes to the men she sleeps with, that’s where his dark side emerges.

ONLY YOU.

♡. ── gif credit. ; ( aemond targaryen masterlist. )

pairing: modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader.

summary: your marriage with aemond targaryen is not like others. starting for the fact that yours was arranged.

content warnings: +18, explicit content, jealous aemond, arranged marriage, oral (f receiving), p in v, choking, fingering, unprotected sex, brief mention of STDs, pet names (baby, pretty girl, love), mutual pining, praise kink, cheating, swearing and a little bit of fluff and angst.

note: thank you so much for your request! this was going to be really short but it ended up being this instead. i hope you like it! if there are any mistakes i apologize but as some of you may know english is not my first language. hope you enjoy! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

AEMOND STOPS EVERYTHING he was doing when he hears you arriving home. but then he hears your laugh and he knows you’re not alone. he tries to get back to work and ignore your voices and your boisterous laugh; he will not fall in your wicked game again.

however, when you two go silent for a good couple of minutes, aemond can’t seem to focus anymore. he knows what’s happening on the other side of the door. and when he hears you moan, he loses it, standing and walking around his desk with so much anger he throws a few things on his way, making you moan even louder at knowing he’s home.

and when aemond opens the wooden doors separating his study from the living room, he just wants to punch something. probably the guy with his face buried between your legs.

your eyes are on him, standing a few feet away with his fists clenched and looking menacing to the man still unaware of his presence. this is not the first time you do something like this, he’s used to it, and it’s definitely not the first time you get the reaction you wanted from him.

you get rid of your top, freeing your breasts, and the stranger you met at the bar is immediately squeezing one of them and it doesn’t feel nice, you’re not even turned on by him.

aemond takes a step forward and you have to bite your lips to stop yourself from smiling and, instead, you keep faking your moans, not breaking the eye contact with aemond. and that is what turns you on.

it’s not that you don’t like him. he’s your husband after all, it was an arranged marriage but still, you two have always had each others back. the problem is that the only time aemond really shows his true feelings is when you take other men home. you noticed that after six months of being husband and wife. not even once in those six months you and aemond spent the night together. he, always a gentleman, let you keep the master bedroom while he chose to stay in one of the guests rooms.

the only time aemond touched you was while holding hands during the ceremony. he even kissed you on the cheek when you were pronounced husband and wife.

during those six months you felt like living with a ghost, only seeing him when he came home after work, so late you grew tired of waiting for him to have dinner. aemond created a big insecurity in you. you weren’t perfect, not like the models he used to date when he was in college, but still pretty enough for him to find you attractive.

but then he changed. he started coming home at a reasonable hour. you started to have dinner together—it was really weird and uncomfortable at first—and, finally, you got to know each other a little more. aemond let you in into his life and you became friends. he also started to act like a husband in front of your families and events, and you began falling for him. something that you definitely didn’t want. you were his wife just by title, aemond made sure you learned that, but you were also his friend, his partner in crime. he trusted you and you trusted him, and you were willing to ignore and hide your feelings. that was until one night aemond came home with a woman.

if he was allowed to sleep around, why couldn’t you?

you were in a marriage just for appearances, if aemond wasn’t going to give you what you wanted, if he was not going to change his mind about your relationship, then you would find it somewhere else.

and it was like that for a while. you had your fun, things with aemond stayed the same, he was a gentleman as always, kind and caring, and seemed okay with the idea of you with other men. you knew he knew what you were doing. he’s not an idiot, never was. so you decided to take the next step and take them home with you.

the first time it happened, aemond ignored it. the next day he acted like nothing ever happened and for the first time since you started with all of it, something inside of you broke. aemond really just saw you as a friend.

from then on, you decided to always take them home, aemond never showed if that affected him. or that was the case until one night when he finally reacted, but just not for the reasons you thought.

“get. out.” he said through gritted teeth.

the man—whose name you don’t remember—grabbed his clothes as fast as he could and flew out of there. he didn’t say goodbye, didn’t even look at you, his eyes were fixed on aemond whilst looking embarrassed. and you couldn’t care less, heart thumping in your chest because he finally did something. you were sure that was the night aemond would do something, anything.

“what the fuck are you doing?” aemond threw you a blanket and you immediately covered your body.

“what?” you asked, nonchalant. you had never seen him so angry before, a vein on his forehead popping out, nostrils flaring.

“i didn’t say anything because it’s your life and you can do whatever you want,” aemond sighed, running his hand through his platinum hair.

you can feel your heart going up your throat, all your body trembling in anticipation.

“are you being careful?” he asked, making you fall from cloud nine face first onto the ground. “i don’t want to be disrespectful,” aemond took a few steps forward and sat beside you on the bed, making sure not to touch the blanket covering your body. “i care about you and i don’t want anything bad to happen.”

“what are you-”

“i’m talking about being careful.” he said again and then you understood what he meant. “you need to see a doctor and do some tests regularly.”

it was humiliating.

but you didn’t let him see how much his words affected you. you played along and that night, after he left, you cried yourself to sleep. you also decided you won’t stop, he doesn’t want you? well, then, you’ll live with that.

but you actually couldn’t.

you kept bringing men home and for a while he just kept ignoring it. most of the time when aemond wasn’t home you simply kicked them out, what was the point of doing it if he wasn’t there? you wanted to cause something in him, anything besides the worry of catching a STD.

it was like that for three months before aemond finally showed you how the whole thing made him feel. it was not like he told you explicitly how jealous he felt, was how he acted around you, how he never left your side at one of the big events his family was hosting, hand on your waist, knee or simply holding yours, it was how he showed up at the bar you usually go to meet men—how did he knew? you really don’t know and it doesn’t matter because he was finally feeling something.

that was just two weeks ago. you had decided to stop to try and see if he would do something. nothing happened and after a really long and exhausting conversation with your friends you chose to give him one more chance, and if that didn’t work then you would simply give up.

that lead you to be on top of the dining table, legs wide open while some man thinks he’s making you see stars when the truth is that if you’re feeling something at all, it’s only because aemond is looking at you with such intensity you think you can cum just by looking at him. and you were going to do it if it weren’t for the stupid man who looked up at you just to find you looking at something behind him.

when he saw aemond standing there in the darkness, he immediately got up.

“who’s this?” he asks, pointing to your husband. you never told him or any men you brought home you were married, it was better if they didn’t know.

“her husband.” aemond answers for you, and you don’t hide your amusement anymore, a sly smile dancing across your lips smeared with red lipstick.

the man chuckles and, to your surprise, he comes close to you, hand on your knee. “you clearly can’t satisfy her.” of all the men you took home and met aemond, this was the first one talking back at him.

“let me tell you something.” aemond says, his blue eyes fixed on the man as he slowly walks towards you. it’s like a predator watching its prey. “you’re not the first man she brings home,” he grabs his clothes, throwing them at him. “but you’re going to be the last one.”

aemond is kicking the man out of the house before you can process his words.

you don’t feel shy or embarrassed to be naked in front of him, not after he’s caught you with men all over the house so many times.

“what the fuck?” aemond growls after closing the door. “really, what the fuck?” he says again, turning around. he’s so mad it’s almost funny to you.

“thanks for ruining my night.” you complain, looking for your clothes. “i was really enjoying myself.”

aemond laughs. “don’t lie.” he walks towards you and you fight the urge to cover your body. “if you have slept with all those men it’s only because i’ve let you.”

“let me?” you throw your top at him, it’s childish but you don’t really know what else to do. you’re not used to this aemond, this is a completely different one from the one you know and love, the tender and caring aemond. “where’s the ‘it’s your life and you can do whatever you want.’” you imitate his voice, which makes him take one big step and end in front of you.

before you can know what’s happening, his hand is on your throat, squeezing just enough to feel it.

“not when you’re disrespecting me.” he says, face just a few inches from yours.

he’s angry but his eyes are soft as he looks at you and explores your body with just one single glance.

his closeness makes you feel dizzy and you finally let the truth out.

“you won’t touch me.” you mumble, avoiding his eyes.

“what?” aemond takes a step back, hand falling by his side.

“we’ve been married for a year and you don’t even look at me that way.” you don’t mean to sound so selfish and the last thing you want is for him to feel uncomfortable, but you can’t take it anymore. “i love you, aemond, and not like a friend loves a friend type of way.”

you can’t read his face, it shows nothing, but you know you’ve ruined the friendship you two had.

you try not to cry as you try to look for something to cover your body. you feel naked, and not just because you are actually naked but because you finally poured your heart out to him.

in one quick move aemond grabs your face and leans down, planting his lips on yours. it takes your breath away and it takes you a few seconds realize aemond is actually kissing you. but just as you give into the kiss, he pulls away, enough to look you in the eyes.

“there’s no one i want and love more than you.” his thumbs stroke over your skin as he sighs. “only you.” he says and your whole world explodes.

“what?” it’s your turn to be confused and surprised, and aemond is more than ready to give you answers.

“i had this stupid plan in my head,” he begins, rubbing his hand though his hair like you’ve seen him do when he’s nervous. “i wouldn’t try anything with you because i didn’t want you to feel forced to reciprocate, you had enough with being forced to marry.” aemond looks at you with that same intensity from earlier. his thumb brushes against your lower lip and he licks his own, a growing arousal settling between your legs. “then you started bringing men home and i just didn’t know how to react. i tried to be supportive but jealousy was eating me up inside.”

“you stupid, stupid man.” you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him to you. “i had this stupid plan too,” you shyly smile. “you know, the one where i would bring men home to make you jealous because i thought you didn’t… find me attractive. and that’s why you wouldn’t try something with me.”

aemond shakes his head as his fingers trace the outline of your breasts sending shivers down your spine.

“would you let me show you how wrong you were?”

you don’t trust your voice, so you simply nod, big doe eyes looking up at him.

aemond’s lips find your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin. one of his hands parts your legs and doesn’t waste any time in finding your clit.

“you got this wet just by me confessing my feelings, huh?” he teases. long and slender fingers playing at your entrance.

“don’t be a te— ahh!” you let your head fall back as he fucks you with his fingers, the wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your cunt too obscene, going deeper every time he sank them in again.

his palm smacking against your clit makes the air in your throat get caught.

“keep your eyes on me, pretty girl.” his free hand forces you to keep your head straight, eyes glued on his.

you whine, his name leaving your lips like a prayer.

"fuck." you moan, feeling that sweet, familiar burn in your lower belly. your hand flies to his wrist, begging him with your eyes to go faster, and he complies.

aemond knows you're about to cum, he can see it in the way you close your eyes tightly and your moans grow louder. his thumb moves to your clit, drawing circles with enough force to have you clenching around his fingers.

"that's it, baby," he groans, lips back on your neck. "cum on my fingers, make a mess."

and that's all you need to let go, all your muscles going limp as you cum all over his fingers and the table. but aemond doesn't stop, he works you throughout your orgasm until you stop shaking and try to regulate your breathing.

you whine when aemond pulls his fingers out, missing the feeling of being filled by him.

"are you going to give me one more, baby?" he asks you, unbutonning his pants. he spreads the remaining slick of his fingers on his cock, the mere scene making your walls tighten around nothing.

aemond grabs your waist, nails digging into your skin as he drags his cock along your cunt.

"aemond, please—" you plead, moving your hips forward trying to gain more friction.

he grins, sinking deeper and deeper inside of you until you could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot.

"fucking hell," aemond groans, pulling back slowly only to slam back inside of your sweet, soft pussy. "you feel so good." his thrusts are deep, hips rutting and bucking into you.

your mouth hangs open, moans and whimpers spilling out, hands blindly grabbing at his biceps. "too much... is too much," you gasp, feeling close to your climax, almost embarrassed at how quickly it build.

"you can take it, love," he mumbles, brushing a strand of hair out of your face and kissing your lips for a brief moment. "you're doing so good for me." you moan at the praise, cunt squeezing him so tight he almost comes on the spot.

he goes faster, deeper, is own climax building incredibly fast, balls slapping against your wet cunt. one shaky hand going down to your clit, adding to the pleasure he was giving you.

aemond rests one of his hand on the table to hold himself up as he desperately ruts into you.

"you're going to let me cum inside?" breathy moans leave his lips, eyes never leaving your fucked out face.

you whine, his movements faltering. "inside, please, want it inside."

aemond bites his bottom lip, cock twitching at feeling your walls clenching one final time around his cock. not being able to hold back anymore, he's quick to follow. hiding his face in the crook of your neck, aemond spills his seed inside of you, both moaning at the feeling.

aemond slowly pulls out, his cum leaking out of you, making him feel so fucking proud of himself.

"are you okay, love?" he asks, caressing your thighs.

you nod, still unable to form a sentence, and aemond chuckles, leaning to kiss your puffy lips.

"can we forget this past year?" you raise your eyebrows, interested in what he has to say. "let's start again. for real this time."

"there's nothing i would love more than that."

[wishing-on-a-staranise]

Ch 4: Sleeping over.

(s.h. x gn!reader)

Summary: a lot of stuff happens and you have a bad feeling about all of it.

A/n: truly scraping the bottom of the motivation barrel. that chapter summary is soooo bad soz bbs :(

Word count: 8.1k+

Warnings/tags: no use of pronouns (gn!reader); use of (y/n); magnets; Hopper being a jealous guy🚩; flashback; weird accurate customer-service interaction;

masterlist

...

You are awakened by the sound of thunder rumbling. When you open your eyes, you have to double check the time to make sure that you haven’t woken up too early.

It reads 8:27 a.m.

Looking out the windows you see grey clouds swirling over the Hawkins’ sky, the trees around the cabin rustling with the fast winds.

You rub your eyes and let out a sigh before finally rolling out of bed, messy from a night full of tossing and turning. another nightmare.

Images of the lab flash in your brain. the sickening fluorescent lights. The hospital gowns. the doctors. The machines. The tanks. The shock collar. the guards. Him. Papa. The people he had made you kill. Their memories. The cold. 

Your brothers and sisters. Eight.

Kali.

That's what her name was now; you found out through El.

you were jealous once again of El. jealous that she got the chance to meet Kali and you didn't. she got to meet her. Kali let her see her, and she hadn't even let you find her in the void back when you had your powers.

You walk through the quiet cabin, the wooden floor creaking under your feet. you fill up a glass of water from the tap. you gulp down the water while opening the latch of the window. when you swing open the window, a gust of wind hits you along with the smell of impending rain.

you take a deep breath in, lungs filling with the earthy smell that comes with these winds. A choir of birds chirps nearby. The branches moved with the winds, their leaves pattering, acting as a white noise. You close your eyes, holding your breath for a while before letting it out. When you first stayed with hopper at the age of 14, he taught this to you, to calm yourself down when he woke up to you screaming in the middle of the night. 

With your eyes still closed, you do it again, holding your breath for longer this time. These days you find yourself doing this entire routine more. A yawn breaks out of you accompanied by stretching yourself out a little– a crack and a satisfying pop sounds from your lower back.

You stay by the window a little longer before finally turning around to get something from the fridge. As you do so, you notice the note Eleven had written, stuck to the refrigerator with some tape– Gone to Maxs sleeping over  --El.  

you smile at the unrefined handwriting, glad that El is becoming good friends with Max.

You open the fridge, gathering the stuff you needed to fix yourself some sandwiches and juice, doing so in silence since Hopper had cut off the TV.

A groan echoes in the cabin. Speak of the devil. You hear the sound of the shower going off, a few more groans heard every now and then.

you sigh, definitely still mad at him. 

When he comes out into the living room/kitchen, he does so with a bottle of pills rattling in his hand, wearing nothing but a towel tied around his waist. He pours the contents of the bottle into his hands before downing them and throwing the bottle in the general direction of the table you all normally ate at. You make a mental note to pick that up later.

The man paid no heed to your presence. You watch with a disgusted frown as he starts drinking right out of the carton rather unmannerly. Your nose scrunches in cringe and a scowl morphs itself onto your features when he lets out a loud burp.

You were about to get back to your sandwich when there were rapid knocks at the door followed by a call for, “Hopper!” the muffled voice of a woman came. Joyce. “Are you there?��, she asks while knocking continuously against the old wooden door.

Hopper quickly makes his way through the cabin and opens the door, “aww! look who it is!”, he says with mockery dripping in his tone.

Joyce skips all salutations and pleasantries, walking towards the fridge, saying, “we need to talk.”

“Yeah, we do”, he punctuates his sentence by slamming the door. “I haven’t been stood up like that since Alice Gilbert in 9th grade.”

you blink, not wanting to listen anymore of Hopper's love life, you get up from your seat on the couch, Initially meaning to retreat to your room. But as you made your way, curiosity blooms in you as you lean against your room's door instead. You watch as Joyce puts her bag on the floor, scrambling to take some things out of her bag. She does so frantically, deciding to rather just dump all the contents of the bag instead.

“What are you doing?”, he questions with a squint,  “Joyce? Hello?” he asks loudly when he gets no immediate response from the lady.

“Just…. watch”, she said before taking one of the magnets and trying to put it on the metal surface of the fridge. She looks at Hopper and then you before releasing the magnet.

It falls with a clatter.

your mind immediately goes back to two days ago when you had found your own fridge magnets on the floor when you had your first fight with Hopper.

The woman in front of you tries to put the magnet on again, and it falls… again. She looks with wide eyes towards the man, shaking her head as if awaiting a response or reaction from him.

“Okay, you're freaking me out”, he says with no expression.

“You slipped on this, remember?” she says, holding up the magnet.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, it fell in the night and it lost its magnetism”, she explains.

“Oh, did it?” he asks with a pout.

“And the same exact thing happened at my house the day before.”

“Wow--”, he sighs as he says it.

“It happened here too”, you interject his bitchy tone.

“What? no, don’t entertain this”, he holds up what you assume is a warning finger.

But the woman pays no mind to it, turning towards you, she asks, “So, it happened here too?”

You nod, not really maintaining any of eye contact with her, instead glancing at Hopper while answering, “happened like.. two days ago”

"Okay, you're going to your room", he points to the door you are standing by, his inflection almost more protective than authoritative.

you still grit your teeth a little, defensive, "I'll do whatever I want"

"that's weird, right?” she turns back to Hopper, probably consciously deciding to ignore your bickering, questioning the man with wide eyes and her jittery hands, “Like why are all these magnets suddenly losing their magnetism?” you and Hopper share a look. you get him, kind of. it all is a little ridiculous. but you get her as well, everything upside-down related is absolutely ridiculous. and who are you to judge her considering you definitely the second most paranoid person right after Joyce Byers. “Anyway, so I went to Scott.” she continues, also deciding to not pay attention to Hopper's mockery.

“Scott. Who’s Scott?” You sigh and roll your eyes when the man in front of you mocks Joyce; trying his best not to show the twinge of jealousy and failing disastrously.

“Scott Clarke” Joyce states, still not quite catching Jim’s true meaning of his words.

“Your child's science teacher?” he squints.

“He’s pretty brilliant actually”, she explains, hands moving fast and her tongue faster, “And I asked him, ‘how is this happening?’ and he built this magnetic field using an AC transformer and plugging it into a solenoid and with that solenoid–”

“Slow down, slow down”, He sits up a little straighter, holding his hands up to stop the woman from rambling, “I just wanna make this exactly right, okay?”

He bends down slightly to come eye to eye with her, his irritation openly evident on his features, “You stand me up”, he counts, holding up his finger infront of her face. You sigh before burying your face in your palm. “no phone call, no apology”, he adds two more fingers up in the air to add count to the list, “because you had to go to Scott Clarke's house.”

“Yeah.” Joyce replies, as if it were the most obvious thing.

The tall man scoffs and chuckles before clapping his hands once, “you’ve outdone yourself, Joyce”, he says before turning to create some space between them and when she tries to speak up, he immediately interjects, “No, you really have. You have outdone yourself.”

“Oh, c’mon Hop. you’re not even listening to me”, she takes a few steps to cover the distance that he had created, “Scott was able to demagnetize some of the magnets and he thinks–”

“I don’t care what Scott thinks!--” he shouts, irritated, cutting the woman off.

“He thinks,” she shouts back so she can be heard, “that a large-scale magnetic field could be built by using some sort of machine or– or experimental technology–”

a pit forms itself in your gut at those words. experimental. thats never good. you were a experiment for god's fucking sake. and whatever the hell Joyce is saying, you do not like the sound of it-- not one bit.

“He’s brilliant, isn’t he? He’s really brilliant. Is he single too?” he says with a mock smile and gritted teeth, walking away towards his room.

Joyce scoffs, pausing for a second before she asks, “what if it's them?” Hopper stops in his tracks, she continues, “to build a machine like that, you need resources, you need scientists, you need funding, tens of millions of dollars–”

“Joyce.”

“It can't just be a coincidence, Hopper. It has to be them” she insists.

“Joyce stop.” he says sternly, eyes flicking towards you whose eyebrows were pulled together and eyes transfixed on the lady in front of him. Your hands curled up into tight fists, nails digging into the palm. An ache in your gut as you truly realise what the woman was saying.

her eyes follow where he was looking at you with soft, almost pitying eyes. her brows soften as well.

you gulp, blinking a few times before looking away. not really sure what to do with your hands or yourself. as much as you wanted to retreat to your room, you also needed to hear the rest of their conversation.

“It has to be the lab, Hop.” she repeats again, more gently– being the only person in the room who doesn't know about your past and your relations to the said lab.

“It is impossible”, he says it loud and clear, making sure both of you hear him.

“Well, then prove it to me.”

“Prove it?” he echoes.

“Yeah, take me back there.”

“To the lab?”

“Yeah, I wanna go back!”

“Because some magnets fell off your fridge.”

“Yes.” she affirmed with finality and a firm nod.

“Okay. Makes sense.”

“Thank you.” she sighs out.

“It makes sense, I’m sorry”, he apologises like he actually means it, before making a show of looking at his wrist watch, “I’m a little busy right now but maybe we can meet up there, like tonight– like seven o’ clock. You know, of course, unless something comes up– which you know, it will.” Jim pulls the curtain to his room in one quick motion.

“You know after everything that's happened”, Joyce talks to the yellow curtain, “This is no joke.”

“No, I don’t think it's a joke,” Hopper’s voice echoes in the air along with him shuffling behind the curtain, “I think that when I asked you out. I think you got scared.” he says with gritted teeth, “I think you got scared and now, you're inventing things. You’re inventing things to get worked up about so you can push me away.”

You rub at your forehead, glancing awkwardly at Joyce who was looking at you with a ‘can-you-believe-this-guy?’ expression. 

“Because God forbid, any of us…. Move on! Because that”, He trails off before letting out a mock laugh, “that would be too much… right Joyce? You know? That would be too much, wouldn’t it Joyce?” he waits for a second for a response before repeating, “Wouldn’t it Joyce?”

The woman in question turns to you, pointing at the tool shed right out the cabin, "uh, is the shed locked?"

"Nope. all yours." you give her a tight-lipped smile. you watch as she makes her way out the door.

When Hopper gets no response, he says the woman’s name one last time, his voice echoing with a timbre in the cabin, “Joyce?”you have choice words for Hopper considering how much he is contradicting himself, but youre a bit too worried for that right now.

The curtain is pulled aside sharply before asking you, “Where’d she go?”

You all but silently nod towards the door before saying, “you know if you wanna get the lady, maybe try not being an asshole to her?”

Hopper, without acknowledging what you said, takes long strides, crossing the threshold of the cabin door and repeatedly calling out Joyce's name.

“Hopper– Hopper listen–”, you call behind from behind him, trying to make him hear you over his own voice. He walked onto the porch, his eyes scanning the surrounding area. The shed door swings open with a loud bang! as Joyce comes out with a torch and a large wire-cutter in hand.

“What the hell are you doing?” he inquires while putting on his shoes.

“I’m borrowing these..”, she declares, walking past him and not even sparing him a glance.

“No, you’re not going back there", ignoring Hoppers words, the woman keeps walking, “Hey! Are you even listening– Joyce!-- goddammit–” he tries his best to walk down the porch stairs, his foot halfway in his shoes, jumping while trying to push the rest of his foot in.

“Hopper!”, you call out loudly, catching his attention, when he turns his head to you, you speak, “I’m coming with you guys.”

“No. no.” he turns his entire body to you, “You’re not. You are staying", he holds up his finger, “And if you tell anyone about this all– I will–”, his finger stays in front of your face, stern and hard. but then then he sighs, hand falling back to his side before muttering a, “just don’t tell anyone”

“But what if it really is them?”

“It isn't.”

“How can you be sure?”, you couldn’t help the slight quiver in your voice.

“I am.”

“How– I– she’s right about the magnets, Jim. I saw it too.”

“Look–", he raises his hands– perhaps to put them on your shoulder but he stops midair as they once again fall to his side, "I’ll go and check okay?”

“But I need to–”

“No. trust me. Its not them. I made sure of it. last year? i was there when they sealed it. it isn't the lab. trust me on this one thing, can you do that?”

“But…”, your voice trails off, gaze falling to your feet. despite your anger, your rage, and whatever else you feel from him, somehow you feel trust a billion times more.

Somehow, you'll always trust him.

Its other people you dont trust. its the lab. its those monsters.

Hopper sighs once again, before reaching for his wallet in his pocket and pulling out a few bills. “Here. get yourself something from the mall ‘kay?”

“...what?”, just as you whisper into the air, you hear the sound of an engine revving.

“Oh, fuck– she’s– I gotta go– I’ll— yeah. Don’t tell Steve or– or anyone there about this” the man ran, shoes untied, shouting the woman's name behind her.

...

“Hi?”, you greet awkwardly after ringing the bell at the counter. Sitting on the counter infront of the sliding window, engrossed in a book with a pair of headphones on her head was Robin buckley. aka Steve's coworker who also practically hates him. When she doesn’t look up, you ring the bell again. And again. And again. 

Its the constant ringing that finally makes the girl pull off her headphones with a groan and look towards the source of the sound. 

“Hey…”, you wave shyly.

"Hey– how can i help...”, she says, sliding off of the counter, “um– you…", she trails off a bit, recognition flashing through her features, "You were here yesterday, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” you answer a bit unsure.

“Are.. you and Steve friends?” she asks with a tilt of her head as trying to decipher something.

You nod, "y-yeah, i was looking for him actually." it feels like its been forever since you've talked to him. you just miss him. especially after everything that happened back at the cabin.

“Oh, he’s… a little busy.”, Robin reckoned she can’t exactly tell you about their super-secret plan to find a super-secret russian base in Hawkins. “He’s not here right now.”

“Oh, so how long will he not be here?”

"uh... a while"

"a while?"

"yeah, a while. can’t say when though– maybe minutes…. Maybe Hours.”

your brows fly up, “Hours?”

“Yep”, she nods to herself, “So, you should probably….” she is about to get you out of her hair, but then she thinks back to the dejected Steve, there is tension there for sure. and though they're not actually friends, Robin would be lying if she said she didn't care about the boy. just a teensy bit though, tiny bit, below the normal amount, miniscule really. and maybe she was just curious.

So, before she knows it, she is asking you to, “Wait. you can wait. Uh— if you want. I have to do some... homework. so I have to..", she gestures back to the counter she had been priorly sitting on, where the book, notebook and a cassette player were laid. 

"yeah, that's okay", you shake your head, “Thanks", you add, smiling timidly before moving to take a seat on an empty table closest to the counter.

You watch as she pulls herself onto the counter she had been on. she puts on the headset, turns it on, drowning out any and all sound.

When you look around in the store, the tables are filled with mostly teen couples, sharing milkshakes, holding hands, looking oh so deeply into each other's eyes and kissing.

Normally, you might've sighed with wistful eyes, maybe called it cute, and Steve would've playfully rolled his eyes before kissing you. Steve.

Steve.

You aren't exactly sure what is happening between the two of you. ever since that day at the cabin when Hopper had caught you both, the boy has been avoiding you. Although you first thought it was because Hopper had really scolded him, giving him earful about his dad. but after finding out that he hadn't in last night's little interrogation, you were utterly clueless as to what was happening.

You are determined to confront the boy, face to face, if he'd actually show it to you.

You sit at the table for fifteen minutes before you spoke up "Hey, robin.”, you call her name out again. time was moving at a sloth's pace, in those fifteen minutes, you had identified a flyer stuck to the wall that read 'we're hiring!' in a deep blue font.

She sighs, pulling her headset around her neck, "yeah?”

"you guys have a vacancy?" you point to the flyer on the wall, “I was wondering, if I wanted to get a job here… How would I do that?”

“We do have a vacancy open so… you could do it. I honestly wouldn’t mind some company other than dingus.”

And that is when an idea hits her. she smirks to herself before clearing her throat. “Okay, how about this…", she slides off of the counter, walking towards you, pointing at you with the red book she had in her hand, "you want a job here?”

You nod at her.

“Well then, you start now”, she declares before reaching for her scooper.. “Get scoopin’ ”, she commands, pulling your hand up and smacking her scooper into your palm. “Or sailing, I guess”, she adds, turning to go sit back in her place. 

“That’s it?”, you question with a pull of your brows, “You don’t get trained or anything?”

“It's just slinging some ice cream”

“It can't be that easy”

“oh, so you think what I told you is easy? well, I guess wouldn't have a problem then", she tries her best to hide her smirk before putting her headphones back on again.

...

may, 1985. graduation. 

It feels like your life was finally on the right route. 

You are soon going to move in with Hopper and Eleven, you and the girl are going to be adopted any time now. you are graduating! and you have a friend– one that you talk to everyday. And that friend is none other than Steve Harrington. 

Ever since that night at the snowball, both of you had started bumping into each other more at school. At first it was just the exchange of little 'hi's' and 'hellos', which then grew to small talk, which further progressed into making plans for every weekend.  Sometimes he'd invite you to his house and sometimes you'd do so to your van. And just like that the rest of the school year passed.

Now, here you are– sitting next to the boy. cheeks hurting from grinning. you wave over at hopper who although had told you the previous night that he couldn't make it but here he was, sitting with the rest of the parents. 

"Hey, you nervous?", the boy next to you asks.

"a little bit", you look at him, the bright sun blinding you for a second, "but I'm okay."

Steve smiles, "you'll be fine. Just a bit more and we’ll be free.” you both giggle at that. The flecks of gold in the boy’s eyes are more prominent, the lines around his eyes and the sound of his laugh make your heart skip a beat and you weren’t exactly sure why.

Your name is heard on the speakers, Steve nudges you out of your trance. You blink, shaking off whatever thoughts that were going through your head before quickly getting up and weaving through the rows of other graduates. Steve gives you a little a grin and a thumbs up as reassurance when you turn to catch a quick nervous glance at him.

When you come back, the boy greets you with a tight hug. The both of you then wait for his name to be called. 

"Harrington, Steve", the name echoes from the speakers. The crowd was mostly tame as compared to how it had arisen in an uproar when Billy Hargrove or any of Steve’s older ‘friends’ were called up.

Steve Harrington is no longer the king he was once titled. and quite honestly, he doesn’t care. Ok, maybe a little. The boy wouldn’t lie and say that he didn’t miss the constant attention whether from girls or boys but at the same time he didn’t want to go back. He didn’t want to go back to pretending to care about things that didn’t matter and pretending that he didn’t care for things that actually mattered. 

So, as he went off the stage, there are no cheers, no chants of his name, just some obligatory clapping. King Steve was dead and somehow Steve didn’t mind.

When he comes back to your seats, you let out a squeal in which Steve joins you, wrapping an arm around you and squeezing you. 

"can you believe that school's actually over?”, you ask as the students slowly start dispersing, getting pictures and leaving with their parents.

"yeah, it's…. holy shit", Steve says as if the realisation had dawned on him just now. you laugh as the two of you moved to leave the place as well, "so, where are we goin’?”, the boy asks hoping he could smoothly segue into telling you what he had planned for the two of you for the rest of the day.

"Steve, I– hopper is here so me, him and eleven are going to have dinner", you try explaining apologetically, "I would have–"

"yeah, no that's cool”, Steve interrupts you, shaking his head and flashing you a smile as if its no big deal, ”I get it.”

"But you can come by after dinner? if you want."

"Ok, cool", he says before waving you a quick bye. he watches as you make your way past the crowd of parents towards Jim. the boy watches the both of you interacting. he feels a little pang of something in his chest when he sees Jim hugging you. His parents didn’t even bother coming home for his graduation.

Without having a single other interaction with anyone else, Steve left in his car.

...

“Umm… sir?” you call out for a third time to a tall blonde, 20-something guy who has just been staring at you a tad bit too much. his pupils are wide blown, hair greasy, forehead covered in a sheen of sweat and he stares at you if he was staring through you and into your soul. the eye contact is unsettling to say the least. "Sir?"

He blinks out of his trance, “huh?”, his dark green eyes finally moving towards the tubs of colourful ice creams.

you force on a customer friendly smile, “Which one did you want?”, you ask for a fourth time.

He looks back up at you. it makes you want to shrivel up, his unmoving gaze, “Whichever you suggest", he says with an accent you can't quite place.

“Oookay. Umm…. ch-chocolate is always a safe option. What do… whatdoyou say?”

“I couldn’t agree more", he grins, a Cheshire smile that doesn't reach his eyes. you quickly move to scoop him his ice cream and get it over with already.

you do so hurriedly, exchanging the cone for his money and quickly returning his change. but the man lingers. he tastes the dessert, another dead smile spreading on his face. "this is great", he states with no true enthusiasm in his words. 

the man puts the change in the tip jar, before turning to you, "thank you so much….", his words taper off, leaving room for you to finish the sentence.

"oh, uh– (y/n)", you help hesitantly.

"(y/n)", he echoes, pupils never wavering, dead set on you. "thank you, (y/n)." he finally says before exiting the store.

You watch as the tall statured man bumps into a person while weaving through the people in the food court. The man gives a final glance over towards scoops ahoy-- towards you. For the one second he looks at you, a chill runs down your spine, goosebumps arising on your skin. It is when he is out of sight, when you finally let out the breath that you had been holding. 

“Was that really weird or is that normal?”, you ask out loud, waiting for a response from Robin who surely should have been watching the entirety of the unsettling interaction. But when you turn around the girl is still engrossed in that book, her eyes flitting between it and the notebook she'd been scribbling in. when you get no response from the girl, you don’t even try to bother disturbing her. You sigh and go back to facing the counter.

About five or so minutes later, you hear banging on the backroom-corridor door. You hand the change to the girl you were serving before turning to poke Robin's shoulder to get her attention. “Hey, robin?”

“Hmm?”

“There's uh.. someone…” you point towards the backdoor. 

She says something about shipment before getting up to check it out while you went back to the counter. You were wiping the surface when you heard the familiar voice you’d been waiting to hear. A certain head of hair emerges from the crowd– in his deep blue sailor uniform, accompanied by Dustin Henderson.

A blur of a sailor uniform and blond hair flashes by you, “Robin, where’re you going?”, you call out behind her. You get no response as she knocks past Steve and Dustin— running through the crowd.

“What're you doing here?”, Steve’s voice pops up beside you, and when you look back from the flurry of people, he is looking at you, awaiting an answer.

“I work here”, you state simply.

“Since when?”

you take a look at the watch on your wrist before answering, “45 minutes ago." Nodding towards the direction where Robin had run off to, you ask, “Is she always this uh… runny?”

...

When you finally take a seat in the car, Eleven pops up from the backseat, "con-gratu-lations", she says slowly (surely a new word Hopper had taught her), with a huge genuine grin. She hands you a card she had made, the words written in her shaky handwriting, the spelling wrong in 'graduation' which is crossed out by a pen to correct it (most definitely Hopper’s deed).

"aw, thanks El!”

the rest of the ride to your van, Eleven tells you about all that the two of them had planned for the evening. A movie and then a well-cooked dinner. it wasn’t a lot or anything special, but you didn’t mind that.

they had some lasagna packed in a pan dish and covered with some aluminum foil. Apparently, Hopper had requested joyce to make some for the special day. It was when you were heating up the food with Hopper when he gives you an envelope.

“Here’s your gift kiddo”, he says with a wide smile.

“what is it?”

“I think you know.”

You have never opened an envelope so fast. and …. There it was. 

(Y/N) Hopper.

You finally had a surname.

“You like it?”

Tears spring up in your eyes.  You tackle him with a hug, an oof! involuntarily sounding from his chest before his arms wrap around you. Soft sobs escape you, tears wetting his flannel shirt.

“Jesus, no need to be so dramatic, kid.”

You let out a wet laugh. Neither of you let go. You sniffle into his shirt as he rubs your back, grounding you. 

Its the beep of the microwave that makes you finally pull away and wipe your face.

“'bout time we get you moving out of this place. So, I’ll come here by, 11:00 a.m.”, he rubs his nose, “Move all this stuff over”

“What?”, you say, plating the steaming lasagna.

“You don’t plan on carrying all of this on your bike do you?”

...

“Look for Imperial Panda and Kaufman Shoes”, You barely hear Robin's raspy voice over the rumbling of the clouds and the pitter patter of the rain.

You were drenched, confused out of your mind as to why you were all on a rooftop, in the middle of a storm, spying on the mall guards while simultaneously battling the highly possible chances of being charred by lightning. 

When Robin had come back from wherever she had run off to, she'd pulled Dustin and Steve into the backroom. You'd heard muffled quarrelling before you decided to lean in a little closer to hone in what was being said. 

“Oh, no, Henderson. We’re not getting (y/n) into this. that is an awful idea”

“Look, steve. if Dustin is right about this entire ordeal. Then we need as many people as we can get.”

"yeah, dude, strength in numbers!"

"well, i don't that number to be (y/n), you hear me?"

“....no. No! I said no. Hey! Henderson!-”, the door bursts open. They pause for half a second, probably realising that you heard all of that.

“We need your help.”

And now here you are, ‘helping’, apparently.

“So why are we doing this exactly?”, you finally ask, wiping the wet strands of hair from your face– hating the awful feeling of wet clothes and hair clinging to your skin.

“To become American heroes”, Dustin states as if that made a single iota of sense.

“oh, okay. That makes so much sense", you mutter mostly to yourself, Hopper's sarcasm has definitely started to rub off on you.

“There, with that whistling guy. Ten o’clock”, Dustin informs, watching from his binouculars while you and the others squint through wet lashes.

“What d’you think’s in there?” Steve asks, referring to the boxes the guard carried.

“Gun? Bombs?” Dustin answers as if it were no big deal.

“Chemical weapons?”, Robin suggests.

"What?", you ask, rightfully shell-shocked. What in the actual fuck is happening? alarm bells ring in your head, you dont like this plan anymore.

“Whatever it is, they’re armed to the teeth.”

You really dont hear what they say anymore. Armed guards never ever mean anything good. you would know, you have been chased by a fair share of them. Their voices, the rain, and the thunder get drowned out and all you can hear is your own damn breathing and heartbeat.

Its a loud clang! that alerts you and breaks you out of your head. it echoes through the air along when the binoculars hit the railing, alerting the armed guards. 

Given the options of fight or flight, your brain still decides to do the unthinkable and freeze. You barely hear a ,"get down!" over the sound of your own blood rushing. You barely felt the arm pulling you down, out of the sight of the guards.

There's a warm hand holding yours, when you look up, it is Steve’s. Both your chests heave as you look at each other for a second before Steve pulls his hand out of your grasp. You don't get a moment to process anything that happens.

A shout is heard below you. And before you know it, you were being pulled– maybe it was Steve, maybe Robin, or maybe even Dustin, their grip on your forearm tight as they pull you through doors you’d never been through. 

Your heart is loud in your chest, eyes burning. Rainwater drips from your clothes as you walk past the now closed stores of the mall.

"I think we found your russians.”

...

“Hey, where are you both going?”, Steve's voice rings through the haze of your brain.

“Going home? You don’t expect me to stay and investigate all night do you?”, Robin quips.

Steve scoffs lightly before saying, “c’mon I’ll drop you guys off. I’m dropping off this little demon anyway.” he says, pointing his thumb at dustin.

“Steve, it’s okay-”, Robin shakes her head.

“No, its raining and late and....", he gestures to you, "you don't even have a bike." When none of you move, steve tilts his head towards his car, his hands on his hips, “C’mon. Buckley, you can put your bike in the trunk of the car”

Robin lets out a quick sigh, “alright, fine then”, she says, strolling her bike over to the back of Steve's car. Steve helps her mount the thing before slamming it shut. And while the blonde makes her way to the seat, Steve turns to you who was still standing where you had been; having made no movement towards his car.

Steve looks at your drenched and shivering frame, he mutters a small “c’mon” into the air.

“Are you sure?” you ask all unsure after a brief pause, "i'll ruin your seats." when you shrug, the fabric of your shirt squelches and sticks to your skin.

“you wont. I'm sure. come on.”

You lick your lips, taking the one remaining seat next to Dustin without another word; as Robin had taken the front passenger seat. 

The storm was over now. Steve drops off Dustin and then Robin, helping them unload their bikes out of the trunk. 

The rest of the drive to way to your cabin is silent. The radio turned all the way down, Steve doesn’t need directions to your place as he’d taken the route nearly everyday since the first time he sneaked in right after graduation.

There is no particular road that leads to the cabin, it is surrounded by thick groves of trees. He parks his car on the main road, making sure to lock it before wordlessly leading you to your own house. 

You want to hold Steve's hand. you want to hold him so bad. you miss the warmth. but something in you stops you. something in his body language and tightly closed fists that say that he doesn’t want you to hold his hand.

You both walk in silence, the crickets chirp, the frogs croak, wind blows and rustles the tall trees around you.

You want to break the silence. Ask the question that had been on your mind– why is Steve acting so distant? Why does it now feel like you had conjured up your entire relationship in your mind?

This is nothing like the past two weeks had been. Where is the constant flirting? Where is the unending banter and jokes? Where is the constant touching? Where is the warmth?

You're deep in your thought when Steve’s shoe slips a little in the muddy grass, but he catches himself.

“Are you okay?” you immediately ask, arms extending on their own accord to steady him. But before your fingers could touch his arm, he mumbles a “yeah” which you almost don’t hear. and then he keeps walking– not even sparing a glance at you. 

Your hands fall back unceremoniously to your sides. Your shoulders slumped and you decide that maybe you shouldn’t speak. you just want to go to sleep now.

You silently follow the boy through the bushes. When you finally reach, alarm bells immediately ring in your head when you see that none of the lights are on. neither do you notice Hopper's Blazer.

Steve might have noticed it too, "Is– is no one home?", he asks.

"I... guess not", you answer, voice barely above a whisper. 

Theres this awkward silence, this pause where neither of you say a thing. you wring your fingers around your wrist. "I'll uh–", Steve cleared his throat , "I'll leave now. um...", he nods to himself as if trying to convince himself, "See you." He slowly steps away, turning back to where you both had come from.

He is already a few steps away from the porch when you speak up, "Steve?"

He halts, head turning, "... yeah?"

you lick your lips. worry and anxiety eats at you from the inside. you're soaking and cold. you want to ask him to stay. you want to hold him. you want him to hold you. you want him to stay. you dont want to be alone.

you swallow, "... be– get home safe."

The boy gives you a tight-lipped smile before turning once again. You watch his retreating figure. when he is finally out of sight, then you finally let yourself in, immediately calling Max’s house.

Eleven is with Max, you know that much after that call. So, you know she was safe.

What concerns you is Hopper. He and Joyce were supposed to go and check out the lab. Surely, they should’ve been back by now. A knot ties itself in your gut as you walk through the empty cabin.

You are thinking of what to do when you hear a knock. You open the door, fully expecting Hopper with maybe a bottle of beer in his hand.

But it wasn’ him. 

An all too familiar face meets yours, his hair in a disarray as if he had run his hand through it a million times. Before you could say anything, he starts, “Hey, sorry– it just didn’t… I’ll stay till– till Hopper shows up", he says, stumbling through his sentence.

“You don’t have to–”, you shake your head reluctantly.

“Look, I know he isn’t my biggest fan, and he might freak– but I'd rather stay", he finally looks you in the eyes. his warm honey eyes that you're sure could heal anything. "You hate being alone.”

you sigh of relief at that, “Okay,” is all you say before moving aside to let him in.

...

There is a knock at the door. Hopper had left with Eleven about twenty or so minutes ago and it could expectedly be only one person who would be visiting you.

you opened the door immediately.

“Hey", he greets you with a grin.

“Hi, Steve”, a smile comes onto your face as well, “what's that?”, you point to the plastic bag in his hand.

“Well, I remember that you said that you’ve never tried it so I brought some beer to celebrate. You obviously don't have to drink if you don't want to but-- I don't know maybe I didn’t really think this through--”

“Steve.” your voice manage to stop his rambling, “we can try it.”

“Yeah, okay– that’s what I thought”, he nods, making his way in through the door.

You giggle, closing the door behind him, “do you just plan on getting me drunk as a graduation celebration?”

“Of course not. I your favourite movie, snacks as always; and I know what you’re thinking– ‘Steve we do that like every week!’”, the boy says the last part in a mock voice at which you rolled your eyes, “Well, we are going to lovers lake for a late night swim!”

“What–”

“well, its beautiful out tonight, and late night swimming sounds perfect right about now, we can even bring food if you have any leftover or we can just buy some on the way--”

“Steve, slow down–”, you put your hand on his shoulders to decelerate his words, “Lover’s lake?”

“Yeah, Lover's lake– its like the only lake in Hawkins--”

“I know what Lover’s lake is. I just–”, you hesitate, “I... don’t know how to swim.”

“Oh, that’s okay! I could teach you?” he shrugs.

“No. I–”, you stutter, wringing your wrists, “I don’t like water, Steve. I just– it… scares me.”

the boy reasons, “I’ll be there the entire time (y/n).”

“Yeah, but I– I don’t know… I guess, its just an irrational fear that I have." Well, it isn’t completely irrational. Maybe it had something to do with being forced to stay in sensory deprivation tanks filled with water and no escape for hours on end because you couldn’t do what they wanted you to do.

“I just can't." you declare with finality. "please?" you add with brows pulled together.

“... okay." you can tell he agrees reluctantly, "Okay. do you have any suggestions for what we’re gonna do, then? Because I’m stumped now.”

“I don’t know”, you frown, eyes falling down to your feet.

“... You know what? Lets have a drink and we’ll figure it out.”, he moves to put the six pack on the coffee table before taking a seat on the rickety old couch. he takes one out for himself and holds up one for you as well. "you sure you still wanna do this?" he inquires with a lifted eyebrow.

the corner of your mouth lifts up a little, “What? D’you think I’m a pussy?”

An involuntary laugh bubbles from his throat at the unexpected word usage, “Damn, where did you learn such vulgar language from?”

you lift your chin, “You, potty mouth.”

“Please, I’ve never used that word. I'm a gentleman.”

“Well, maybe Dustin, then.”

“Ah, yes. That checks out.”

“I can't believe that I’m friends with Steve Harrington yet it’s Dustin Henderson that is the bad influence”, You laugh.

Steve produces a bottle cap opener out of his pocket, “Yeah, that kid is like a profanity machine”, he mumbles, opening the bottle cap before handing you your bottle, “Alright. You ready?”

You give him a quick nod.

“Bottoms up.”

you cough at the taste, holding up your hand over your mouth, “Aww that’s disgusting"

"its an acquired taste”, he chuckles, taking another swig and you fake gag as he does so.

the both of you fall into conversation, something that flowed so easily between you that you don’t even notice when you subconsciously end up finishing the bottle. you still continue to complain about the awful taste when Steve recommends to play a board game to decide who would clean up the mess you two are conjuring up.

Steve loses; purposely, but he wouldn’t tell that to you. Steve would have played fairly, he really would have and he did, for the first round atleast. But when you won the first round, your drunken victory dance was a little too cute for him to not witness again. so, that’s what he did. he lost on purpose.

while he is wiping the table, you appear behind him, calling his name, “I wanna show you something!”

“Yeah?” you take out the envelope from your back pocket, a huge grin on your face as you do so. “what’s this?”

“open it!” you say all excited. the boy does so, his eyes skim over the page, “You got adopted?” he asks with a small grin.

“Yes!!” you exclaim, tackling his torso like you have made the habit with Hopper; you nearly knock down the both of you but his hands instinctively fly up to hold your waist, making the both of you stable in your footing. “Sorry,” you apologise shyly, pulling away but the boy doesn’t allow you as he pulls you back in, “congratulations”, he mutters into your hair.

“I’m so happy.” you state, warm breath tickling the skin on the junction between his neck and shoulder. the two of you finally pull away, “We’re moving tomorrow morning, so goodbye to this shitty van.”

“Wait, really?”, you nod, excited. brows fly up almost into his hairline, “thats great! but don’t you think you should pack a little maybe?”, he suggests, gesturing towards, well, everything around the two of you.

“Oh…”, you pause, “Oh, shit”, your forehead creased as you frantically look around at the van, it is a mess to say the least and the thought packing had completely flown over your head.

“It’s okay dude,” he reassures, and for some reason, cringes at his use of ‘dude’. he isn’t exactly sure why. that’s what you two were, afterall. just buddies, best buddies, pals-- that’s it. “I’ll help you out.”

“Oh my god– thank you so much Steve!” you flash him a huge thankful grin.

“Yeah, I know, I’m your knight in shining armor”, he mumbles. it is completely normal to feel a little giddy from your best friend’s smile. right? Right.

The night goes quite the opposite of how he had planned it. packing up wasn’t anywhere near hanging out around a lake but he, once again, finds himself not minding. because of you. 

oh. oh yeah. that makes sense.

it is 12:17 a.m., you had fallen asleep in the middle of the task of organising your books. And although he had assigned you the task, he makes no efforts to wake you up. Instead, he does that as well, listening to your soft snores and a random mixtape you had been playing in the background.

it is in that moment, Steve realises that his feelings for you might be a bit more than platonic.

You wake up about a few minutes past 1:00 a.m., apologizing profusely and then thanking the boy when he tells you that everything was done.

“Alright I better get going”, He announces, getting up when everything was packed up.

“Steve. Its one a.m.”, you state, pointing at the clock, “Its too late. C’mon you can stay the night.”

“And sleep in your rickety couch?”, he jokes.

“We could share my bed?”

“If you want me in your bed, you just have to ask”, he says before even realising what he had said.

why is he trying to flirt with you? 

“I am asking you, Steve”, you insist, not quite understanding what the boy had actually meant.

“Uhm, yeah– okay cool.”, he sighs.

why is he trying to flirt with you and why is he disappointed when you don't get that he's trying to flirt you?

So, the both of you share your small bed, but still managing to maintain an appropriate amount of space. as much as you remember atleast, and you don’t remember a lot. but Steve did.

He remembers that it was about 3:30 when he was awoken by the urge to take a leak, but there you were, arms laid out over his torso, nose snuggling into his shoulder, and those same cute snores. 

Despite how much he didn’t want to, he had to get up. so, when he does, he does so slowly, making sure to not wake you up. when he is finally out of bed, he is nearly jogging on his way towards the bathroom. He sighs, disappointed, because when he comes back, you were now on your back, robbing Steve of his chances of having you snuggled up against him again.

...

“Hey, Y/N”, you groan all groggily, pressing your face further into the pillow, “Hey, sleepy pants”

“fuckyouiwannasleep”, your words are barely audible, muffled by the sheets.

“C’mon”, he laughs, “don’t you wanna move to your new home now?” You jolt awake at that, hair a mess, mouth sticky, trying to rub your eyes free of sleep. “There you are. C’mon brush your stinky teeth, I made breakfast”

...

[saywhatjessie]

Better Off as Lovers

Advent Calendar Day 13! (prompts by @raven-cincaide-words) Today’s prompts: Hot Chocolate recipe | Best Friends | Little Hints Fandom: Ted Lasso - Pairing: RoyJamie 2k[Ao3]

“Roy, can I–”

“No,” Roy barked, not turning from the stove.

“You don’t even know–”

“No.”

“I was only–”

“No.”

Roy heard Jamie sigh behind him, followed by the familiar sound of him pulling himself up to sit on the counter.

“Arse off the counter,” he said, still not turning around. Jamie did a mocking ‘arse of the counter’ but didn’t hop down. Roy didn’t really mind.

It was a comforting set up. Roy in the kitchen and Jamie near him – out of the way but well within bothering distance. Roy had prepared so many meals like this: breakfasts and dinners and even holiday feasts. No wonder Phoebe said they were best friends.

“You can’t be all pissy with me,” Jamie told Roy, shifting around on the counter. “You can’t be jealous because I liked Ted’s hot chocolate. You liked it, too.”

“Your praise was far too fucking effusive,” Roy insisted. “Made me feel sorry for you. You’ve never had real fucking hot chocolate.”

“I’ve had plenty hot chocolate!” Jamie insisted. “It’s five quid at the cafe!”

“They are robbing you for substandard beverages,” Roy insisted. “So I will be making you a real one, the way Grandad taught me, and you’ll feel so stupid.”

“Oh, so it’s not your honor you’re defendin’,” Jamie said, his socked feet kicking lightly back against the cabinets. “It’s grandads. You should have just said that.”

Roy growled and Jamie laughed.

Roy stirred the dark chocolate cocoa powder into the milk, waiting until the milk was brown and all clumps had dissolved before adding the cinnamon and sugar. 

“You start with dark chocolate,” Roy explained, like his grandad had explained to him. He turned to look at Jamie, to make sure he was listening. “Because you can always make it sweeter later, but the darker you start, the richer the flavor will be.”

Jamie hummed. “And grandad used unsweetened oat milk?”

Roy scowled. “Grandad used whole milk and then hogged the toilet for the rest of the afternoon. I’m being fucking considerate by minding my dairy intolerance.”

Jamie cackled gently, his eyes soft. “And I thank you for that. So what else did you put in?”

Roy looked back to the pot he was stirring. The softness in Jamie’s eyes was making him Feel. And he needed to focus on the hot chocolate. “Cinnamon and sugar,” he told him. “We’re making spiced hot chocolate but we still wanna taste the flavors in the chocolate.”

“Spiked hot chocolate?” Jamie said, sounding excited. “What, we adding whiskey? Rum?”

“No, you muppet,” Roy said, turning an exasperated look on Jamie’s excited face. “Spiced. Not spiked.”

Jamie pouted and Roy rolled his eyes. “I’ll make you a spiked one for Hanukkah.”

Jamie brightened again. Roy looked away.

“You gotta warm the milk up slow. Me and Ruth would always be moaning and crying by now, asking why it wasn’t done. Didn’t take nearly so long to make hot chocolate when Mum was doing it. Course, she was just putting the kettle on and adding fucking Lieber’s.”

“Oi, I’ve had that!” Jamie protested. “That’s good cocoa!”

“It’s fucking great,” Roy agreed. “But not as good as Grandad’s.”

Jamie hummed again, in allowance. They fell a little quiet, silent but for the sound of the stove, Jamie’s heels against the cabinets, and the rattle of the wooden spoon against the pot as Roy stirred.

“I think it’s real sweet you’re sharing this with me,” Jamie said. Roy turned to him to see if he was being shitty but he was just smiling in this weirdly earnest way. 

“What’s wrong with your face?” Roy asked him.

Jamie rolled his eyes. “It’s gratitude, you dusty old fart. I’m tryin’ to be sincere here.”

“Well it’s weird, stop trying so hard.”

Jamie huffed, curling his hands in the bottom of his hoodie. He glared at his dangling feet.

Roy growled, biting the inside of his cheek. “I appreciate,” he started, his voice more gravelly than usual. “Your gratitude.” He took a deep breath trying to unclench his jaw. He looked back at the pot – it was easier to talk that way. “This recipe is special. I’m glad you fucking get that.”

Jamie made a happy noise, leaning over to clap Roy on the shoulder.

Roy batted him off. “Not when I’m working with a hot stove!”

Jamie snickered but pulled away. HIs feet picked up their steady rhythm against the cabinets again.

Roy cleared his throat. “Now we check to see if the milk is up to temp.”

He stuck his finger in, yanking it back when he felt the heat.

Jamie yelped in surprise. ‘Whatchu do that for?! Don’t you have a thermometer?”

Roy shook his hand out, nodding at the milk. “Don’t need one. That worked. Milk’s hot enough.”

It felt like Jamie was gonna protest again but Roy opened one of the island drawers and pulled out a bag of gelt. “Can you start unwrapping these?”

Jamie startled a bit but immediately invested himself into the task of peeling all the gold foil off the chocolate coins.

Roy smiled at him while Jamie wasn’t looking and turned back to the pot, giving it another stir. “Don’t give me all of them,” he told Jamie. “We need some for the mugs later.”

Jamie grunted, completely locked in to unwrapping the gelt.

He handed each naked coin to Roy as they were revealed, and Roy dropped them in the pot, stirring steadily until they melted completely.

When it looked about right, Roy turned off the heat, adding a splash of vanilla attract and stirring to incorporate it. He took a spoonful to taste it and it was perfect. He cleared his throat to keep himself from tearing up. Just like Grandad.

“Can I taste?”

“Fuck no,” Roy said, scowling at Jamie. “You’ll try it when it’s dressed properly in a mug and not a second sooner.”

Jamie grumbled but Roy caught him smiling back. Roy buried his own smile in the cabinet as he fetched their mugs.

Jamie had his own. It wasn’t one he’d brought with him but one he always picked for himself from Roy’s collection. Roy wasn’t sure why. His mugs weren’t particularly exciting – they didn’t vary a whole lot and there was nothing really special about Jamie’s mug other than the fact it was Jamie’s mug. Jamie drank from this mug. So Roy grabbed it for his cocoa. 

He carefully poured the drink from the pot into two mugs, leaving half an inch on top. He grabbed his preferred mini marshmallows and gave them each a couple before returning to the fridge to grab the homemade whipped cream he made. If Jamie asked, this was leftover from Phoebe’s ice cream party the other day, but he’d actually made it fresh before Jamie had arrived. Fresh homemade whipped cream was just better.

When he had a solid island of whipped scream floating on the cocoa with the marshmallows, Roy gently laid an unwrapped chocolate coin on each, propping it on the mound so it was a little up and wouldn’t sink.

The sound of a phone camera sounded from behind Roy and he turned to see Jamie, off the camera with his phone held up.

Roy pointed at him, angrily. “Don’t you fucking post that!”

“Wouldn’t!” Jamie said, holding up his hands. “Swear down! This one’s just for me.”

Roy grunted, crossing his arms, uncomfortably.

Jamie smiled, hopefully. “Can I take a picture of the mugs, though? To post? You’ve made them so pretty.”

Roy grunted again, but stepped aside. He was a little proud of how nice the cocoa’s looked. “Be fast,” Roy told him. “That chocolate’s gonna melt the whipped cream fast.”

Jamie shot him a wink, lowering down to catch the mugs at a bunch of different angles.

Roy cut him off after a dozen shots, pushing him away and snatching up his own mug,

“Alright, alright, it’s time for your worldview to be forever fucking changed.”

Jamie grinned, putting his phone away and carefully bringing his mug up to his mouth.

Roy wondered if he should bring his own phone out. To capture Jamie’s first taste of Grandad’s cocoa. But he was afraid that would reveal too much. Be too intimate. It’s one thing for Jamie to whip his phone out and take a picture, but Roy only took pictures of Phoebe. And of his sister. And of Jamie but only very secretly,

No, it’ll be just as good just watching Jamie. He can remember Jamie’s face just as well as his phone camera.

Roy waited, his mug hovering in front of his face, as he watched Jamie. Jamie blew gently over the cocoa, pushing the island of whipped cream around with his breath. When he judged it to be sufficiently cool, he brought it up and took a sip.

And Roy got to watch his eyes gently close in rapture, his tongue flicking out to catch stray drips on his mouth. He felt the rumble of Jamie’s groan of satisfaction in his bones, the soft and sweet sigh making his arm hair stand on end.

Yeah, a camera wouldn’t capture this.

Roy looked away, to his own mug, and took a sip. It was perfect, just like he’d thought. The marshmallows, the whipped cream, the melty gelt right on the top of the tongue. It cracked through him with a million memories and the sudden awareness that he was here. Now. With Jamie. And this hot chocolate. And this was another important memory being made in real time.

He looked back at Jamie. If he was making a memory now, he wanted most of the memory to have Jamie in it,

Jamie cupped his mug in both hands, held close to his chest as he curled around it, his weight resting on the counter. He was looking back up at Roy, his eyes full of wonder.

“Yeah, fuck me,” Jamie said on a laugh. “Ted’s hot chocolate was shit compared to this.”

Roy grunted in approval, taking another sip of his chocolate. the burn of the cinnamon piled on the burn in his heart but not in a bad way. In a kind of dangerous way.

“These marshmallows kosher?” Jamie asked, poking one around the chocolate with his finger.”

Roy snorted. “Of course they are. Grandad would never forgive me otherwise.”

Jamie nodded, smiling gently into his mug.

If Jamie didn’t stop looking so soft and sweet, Roy might have to do something drastic.

“Thank you,” Jamie said, his big puppy eyes peering up at Roy. “Again. For wanting me to have this.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Roy growled, leaving his mug on the counter and taking Jamie’s out of his hand.

“Wha–”

But then Roy was kissing him, Jamie’s mug next to his on the counter and his hands cupping Jamie’s jaw.

Jamie gave as good as he got, his arms coming up under Roy’s and reaching at his hair, pulling hard enough that Roy growled.

“Fucking finally,” Jamie growled back, biting at Roy’s lips. “Was thinking there were was no limit to hints I could drop before you fucking did something.”

Roy didn’t let him keep talking, thoroughly claiming his mouth, trying to make him forget any other words he could possibly say.

Roy could taste the chocolate on Jamie’s tongue, the marshmallows melting over his teeth. He did that. He gave Jamie something good. He would keep giving Jamie something good. Jamie was his best friend and he was done pretending like he didn’t want to take care of Jamie always and forever and keep giving him nice things.

Take that, Ted Lasso, Roy’s hot chocolate was better.

That thought was just weird enough it made Roy pull away. Because. What?

Jamie’s lips were puffy, his eyes totally unfocused as he looked back at Roy.

Roy felt very smug at this. Jamie had forgotten all his words. Mission accomplished.

Except maybe not totally. Jamie looked up at Roy, his hands still moving over Roy’s back and said. “We should finish our cocoa before it gets cold.”

Roy barked a surprised laugh, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Jamie’s. “Yeah,” he agreed. “yeah we should.”

So Roy grabbed both their mugs and brought them into the sitting room so they could cuddle up on the couch together and drink their hot chocolates.

And when they were done with their drinks, Roy could taste it all over again straight from Jamie’s mouth.

[icarusignite]

So i have a weird reaquest heheh i just read you finan x reader where they die instead of osferth and the final sentence being about them meeting in heaven SO i got this idea about like in the next life maybe like a modern AU they meet by accident in our time like idk the boys go to a bar or something after a day of work and she is there and Finan just feels like they know each other and something and massive fluff!!!

Thank you<3333

A/N: Heyyoo, I love love loved this request, so cute. Hope you like this fic. I had alot of fun writing the "in another world" vibes lol. This is my first time writing modern AU so apologies if it's abit nonsensey.

Word Count: 2.5K

Pairing: Finan x Fem! Reader (no use of y/n), Modern AU

AO3

In this labyrinth of time, our souls entwined

The bar hummed with an energetic atmosphere, vibrant and alive. Warm, dimmed lights cast a golden glow across the space, illuminating the polished wooden surfaces and richly upholstered seating. The air was filled with the mingling scents of aged whiskey, fragrant hops, and delectable cuisine, creating an inviting aroma that embraced the four men who had just entered.

The sounds of conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses merged harmoniously, creating a symphony of human connection. Patrons leaned against the sleek bar, engaged in animated discussions, their voices rising and falling like waves crashing on a distant shore. Bartenders, skilled and swift, expertly crafted cocktails, their movements a well-practiced dance behind the counter. The clatter of shakers, the clinking of ice, and the pop of corks added a rhythmic backdrop to the bustling scene. There was also the occasional burst of applause that erupted from a corner where groups engaged in friendly games of darts or pool. The walls were adorned with eclectic artwork, vintage posters, and memorabilia, and the music, carefully curated to suit the mood, resonated throughout the room. 

As for Finan, Osferth, Uhtred, and Sihtric, they navigated their way through the bustling crowd, exchanging nods and friendly greetings with familiar faces along the way. Their destination was a cozy booth nestled against the far wall, worn leather seats beckoning like old friends. The table, scarred with marks of countless conversations and camaraderie, stood as a testament to the memories made within its embrace and the friends settled into their respective spots, each claiming their corner of comfort. 

"Now, Osferth," Finan teased, nudging his friend playfully. "Remember, moderation is key tonight. We don't want a repeat of last time, do we?"

"Hey, that was not my fault!" Osferth retorted. "Sihtric was the one who made that stupid wager."

"Well, whatever it was, your girlfriend wasn't too happy about having to drag your drunk ass back home when we called her," Sihtric smirked.

Uhtred rolled his eyes, "How'd someone like you even get a girlfriend Osferth?"

"You're just jealous that our boy here is in an actually stable relationship. Maybe you should learn a lesson or two from him?" Finan threw an arm around the blushing younger boy. 

"What, and deny the ladies all this?" Uhtred spread his arms wide and gestured to himself, making the table erupt in snickers. 

Osferth's face reddened slightly as he chuckled, his eyes flickering with embarrassment, "I'll make sure I don't lose it today. I don't really wanna bother her."

"Awww, he's in loooove," everyone cooed together, making Osferth blush harder.

"Can we-uh-can we just order, please!"

Uhtred raised his hand and summoned one of the waitresses over. She was a confident-looking woman, and when she caught sight of the boys, her eyes sparkled with familiarity and warmth. 

"Evening, gentlemen. What can I get for you today?" she grinned. "Will it just be the usual?"

Uhtred raised a hand to his heart, "Oh you flatter us Amelia, you know us so well."

"It's only right that I remember the order of my best tippers," she winked.

"I supposed it does help that we come in here every Friday night and order the exact same thing?" Sihtric raised an eyebrow playfully.

"I suppose. So yes, the usual then?"

"Thanks, Amelia, you're a doll," Uhtred smiled widely and leaned conspiratorially toward her. "And by the way-"

"Nuh-uh, don't try that with me," Amelia tapped her pen against her notepad. "Cassie from last week was here earlier and she did not look happy."

"Hmm, I wonder what that was about."

"Uhtred..." she warned, equal parts amused and annoyed.

"Oh c'mon, it's not my fault she got attached. It was a one-night kind of thing."

"Uhtred, Uhtred, Uhtred."

"Amelia, Amelia, Amelia, your disappointment in me stings."

Amelia rolled her eyes, "Good. You should learn from Osferth here. Now this is a true gentleman."

She ruffled his hair affectionately, making Uhtred groan.

"I'll send someone over with the food and drinks boys. Have a good time!"

As she walked away, Uhtred leaned back in his seat, a self-satisfied grin playing on his lips, "Did you see the way she looked at me? No woman can resist my charm."

Finan chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, Uhtred, your ego knows no bounds. She's definitely not into you!"

"Hey, but she could!"

Sihtric sniggered, "Leave it to Uhtred to flirt with every pretty face he comes across."

"And besides, there's no way she'd be into you when you go around breaking the hearts of every woman in her establishment," Osferth chimed in.

Just then, their drinks arrived, and Uhtred was saved from responding. He took his glass absentmindedly from the news server, eyes still lingering on the woman who had retreated behind the counter and was now currently issuing orders. 

The four friends were just raising their glasses, toasting to the adventures they had shared and those yet to come, when there was a sudden hush in the atmosphere. The boys turned their eyes toward the commotion along with everyone else in the room. 

A drunken man, fueled by liquid courage, had crossed the line of decency, attempting to grope a young woman who had been enjoying her drink in solitude at the bar. The atmosphere crackled with a mix of anger and concern, a collective discomfort rippling through the patrons. The woman's discomfort was palpable, her eyes darting around for help as she swallowed nervously. Uhtred stood, accompanied by his friends, ready to step in immediately, but then a figure burst through the crowd.

You were fierce and unyielding as you emerged, eyes flashing with defiance. Your voice boomed with a fiery determination as you confronted the perpetrator. 

"Get your fucking hands off her before I cut them off!"

The drunken man, taken aback by the unexpected confrontation, slurred a profanity-laden response "Mind your own business. The whore was asking for it."

The victim, your friend whom you had left unattended for a moment while you went to the washroom, shuddered at his words and it made your blood boil. You stood your ground with unwavering resolve, managing to stare down your nose at him despite being almost several inches shorter. 

"And you know what you're asking for, you pig? A fucking beating?"

The drunk man snarled and the entire bar waited with bated breath. Finan watched you curiously. He had never seen you in his entire life, he knew that much for sure, and yet there was something about you that seemed so familiar. Something about the steely determination in your glare and the way your voice echoed without strain. He found himself worrying for your safety just then, and he told himself that it was just very human of him to be wishing for the safety of a fellow patron of the bar.

"Oh yeah, and who'd gonna give me the beating? A pathetic thing like you?"

The drunkard lunged toward you, his intentions clear. But he had gravely underestimated your strength and resolve. In a swift movement, you dodged his attack, your smaller stature and sober mind giving you the advantage of speed and better coordination. Your fist connected with his jaw in a powerful counterstrike. There was a satisfying crunch and he crumpled with a howl. The sound reverberated through the room, silencing it for a split second before the eruption of applause and cheers.

"Alright, the show's over, get that fucking clown out of my bar!" Amelia finally arrived at the scene with security and everyone watched them throw the man out, returning the familiar buzz of conversation to the environment. 

The aftermath of the confrontation still hung in the air as Finan, Osferth, Uhtred, and Sihtric returned to their booth, feeling quite impressed at your bravery. However, there was something else lingering in the air—Finan's undeniable fascination with you. 

As they settled back into their seats, Osferth's eyes twinkled mischievously, "Finan, my friend, it seems your attention was captured by more than just the excitement of the moment."

Uhtred chuckled, leaning back with a knowing grin, "Indeed, it appears our fearless Finan has met his match. A strong-willed woman who can throw a punch? I totally see the appeal."

Finan's cheeks flushed, a mix of embarrassment and amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. "No, no, it's not that. I feel like-I feel like I know her."

"You seen her before?" Sihtric raised an eyebrow.

"A one-night-"

"No! Nothing like that!"

Uhtred raised his hands placatingly, "Alright, alright. Shall I ask Amelia then? Maybe she's a regular here?"

"Maybe, I don't know."

"Just go talk to her Finan," Sihtric sighed in exasperation. 

"What if she thinks I'm a creep or something?"

"Oh I think she's more than capable enough to handle creeps don't you think?"

"Hey! I don't wanna be handled like a creep!" Finan exclaimed indignantly.

"Well then, you better be on your most gentlemanly behaviour dude," Osferth clapped a hand on his shoulder.

With the resounding support of his friends, Finan steeled his nerves and rose from the booth once more. He crossed the bar, weaving through the mingling crowds until he reached your side. You were still comforting your friend in hushed whispers when she nudged you to turn your attention to the newcomer.

Finan wore an easy confident smile as he leaned against the bar, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You know," he began, his voice filled with playful charm, "I could swear we've crossed paths before. Perhaps in a previous life?"

You snorted, "Oh wow. That was-"

"Charming?"

"Oh, is that your go-to line?" you raised your eyebrow unimpressed. 

"Well, it hasn't failed me yet. But I must admit, it doesn't seem to be working splendidly in this instance," he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Well, consider my curiosity piqued, charming stranger."

"Finan, at your service," he extended his hand which you took in a firm handshake.

The moment your palms met, a kaleidoscope of emotions and sensations cascaded through his being, and Finan felt a jolt of familiarity as if the tapestry of time had woven your destinies together long before your paths had crossed here in this bar. Time itself seemed to stutter, as though a forgotten melody had suddenly resurfaced, stirring memories buried deep within him and his heartbeat quickened. He knew you, he could swear it. Within that ephemeral moment, the boundaries of space blurred, and the present moment fused seamlessly with echoes of the past and the whispers of the future. The sensation transcended the confines of the physical world, creating a bridge that spanned eons, traversing the realms of memory and eternity. Finan then pulled away, feeling quite foolish. No girl had ever made him feel this way before but surely it was foolish to be drawn this way to a stranger he had just met. He looked up at you, trying to deduce whether or not you felt a similar connection, or if this familiarity was something on his part alone. 

Your eyes were warm as you smiled at him, but there was no recognition in them. That was all well enough, he supposed. The stressful week must be getting to him. This was the first time he'd seen you because there was no way he'd ever forget someone like you if you had made his acquaintance in the past. 

"So, will I get to know your name, or are you determined to stay an enigma?"

Your smile grew wider as you introduced yourself. 

"That was quite a punch back there," Finan eyed your bruised knuckles in concern. "I must say, I'm impressed."

You laughed, the sound echoing through his ears pleasantly. 

"Flattery will get you far, Finan. But tell me, do these lines usually work for you?"

Finan leaned in, his tone conspiratorial, "I'd say they've got about a 50/50 success rate. Though I must confess, it's never been quite as genuine as it is with you."

"Well, you certainly have a way with words. Perhaps, just this once, I'll let you get away with it."

"Wow, in that case, would you let me buy you a drink?"

"Hmm, I'd like that. Thank you."

Finan flagged down the bartender, ordering your preferred drink. Then, with a worried glint in his eyes, he added, "And may we also have some ice for her bruised knuckles, if you don't mind."

The bartender returned, placing your drinks on the bar along with a small bowl of ice. Finan took a few napkins and wrapped a few pieces of ice in them, reaching out to brush his fingers gently across yours.

"May I?"

You nodded hesitantly, and he pressed the cool relief to your knuckles, making you sigh. 

You smiled, "Thank you. It's not often I find someone who pays such attention to the little things."

After that, the conversation seemed easy, your words flowing effortlessly like a dance. The bar's ambient sounds faded into the background, leaving you wrapped in a cocoon of shared laughter and connection. You didn't even notice your friend slip away from your side, leaving you two alone at the counter. 

Finan's friends observed the scene from their booth, their eyes fixated on their smitten companion. Uhtred leaned in, his voice filled with mischief. "Well, well, it seems Finan has truly met his match."

Osferth nodded, a warm smile on his face as he watched the two of you laugh and engage in witty banter, "He's found someone who can match his wit I guess. It's entertaining for sure."

"How long before he works up the nerve to ask her out?" Sihtric chimed in.

"If he hasn't already," Uhtred pointed out.

"Nah, I don't think he's done it yet. He seems different this time."

"Oh you think you're the expert now Osferth," Sihtric nudged him with his elbow.

"Well, I am the one with the long-term relationship, so yeah, I guess that makes me the expert. We can't very well call Uhtred the expert now can we?"

Back at the bar, you and Finan had continued to share stories, your laughter intertwined with glimmers of vulnerability and shared interests. Finan leaned closer, his voice uttering your name sincerely.

"You know, there's something about you that is so truly captivating. I find myself drawn to your spirit, and I can't help but want to know more."

"My spirit huh? Damn, you definitely have a way with words. So what is it that you want to know, Finan?"

"Everything. I want to know your dreams, your passions, and the adventures that have made you the person you are. I want to know everything about you!"

"Oh."

"If you'll let me of course," he amended quickly, not wanting to scare you off.

Your cheeks flushed a deep red, "I assure you my life has been very ordinary so far, but perhaps you shall hear about it another time."

Finan reached out, gently taking your hand in his, "I eagerly await that time. Until then, may I have the honour of taking you out for dinner?"

"Oh," your eyes widened. "Well...okay yeah, I'd like that. I'd like that very much, Finan."

Your voice tugged at his heart. The cadence of your voice, the melody of your laughter, and the animated movements of your hands, as you talked, resonated deep within him, stirring emotions that defied explanation. The sense of déjà vu enveloped him, painting the air with shades of nostalgia and anticipation. he tried his best to recall the origin of this profound connection, but they slipped through his fingers like whispers in the wind. 

His heart called your name, even though it had just learned the shape of it today and your souls, separated by the veil of existence, recognized each other anyways.

[npookie0]

Chaotic souls with corrupted minds. - Ronsaki ♥

Misaki was walking through a dark forest, their yellow eyes focusing on every small detail they could register. Their ears perked up whenever they heard a nearby bird, getting their stomach to make a sound.

They were starving.

Earlier today Misaki was kicked out from their pack, its leaders decided that Misaki's hunting abilities were too weak for them to be in the pack for any longer. With almost an empty backpack they went into the deep dark forest in hopes of finding a save place for the night or for a few more days. They were completely drenched by rain, luckily it was just raining they would not survive a storm while they're outside.

Finally they found an old looking manor, it was in a rundown state and it's exterior was very decorative. Misaki didn't give it much thought, they needed a place to stay at and a Gothic manor would do the trick much better than a cave or breaking into a human's house. They took a deep breath and pushed the ginormous dark wooden doors open. The interior wasn't much better than the outside of the manor. It was flashy, unmatched furnishing with wallpapers that looked like they're taken out of the fifteen century.

Misaki let their backpack drop to the floor as they walked around the area, checking every room, trying to make as little sound as possible in case someone decided on staying in a haunted looking manor too. They reached a weird room. there was no light, all the windows were covered by thick curtains making it impossible for any light to get inside the room. They were curious, excited by the secret they could uncover. Their sharp eyes caught a shape of something that looked like a big box in the middle of a room. She slowly approached the box and squinted their eyes to get a better glimpse. Misaki was really jealous of werecats, if only her night vision was so good...

"A coffin?" She asked in surprise when she realised what the box is. A wooden coffin, it laid on a marble pedestal. candles all around the floor, smoke was still present in the air. Misaki wasn't someone who would leave such mysteries on their own, they wanted to check what, or who, was inside of the box.

They touched their way to something that felt like the handle to open the coffin, as they confidently pulled on the handle... just for it turn out to be a hinge...

Fuck.

Well, at least they opened the coffin! Yeah... By breaking it.

Misaki was panicked, the other hinge also came off, making the lid fall off when Misaki jumped away in shock pulling it with themselves because they forgot to let it go.

Ronin who was trying to catch his sleep was rudely awakened by his coffin's lid being basically torn off. The vampire sat up, turning his head towards the scared looking werewolf. That was interesting. The vampire encountered many fur friends in his fair share of time spends as a vampire, yet no one was keeping their tail between their legs. They looked pathetic, all drenched from top to bottom.

At first Ronin wanted to act like a total scary vampire, but the fear in their eyes and the apologetic look they were giving him made him laugh.

"Oh fuck you look so horrified!" He said between a new wave of laughter. He stepped out of the coffin, kicking the broken lid to the side with his spiked combat boot. "Well, well, what do we have here? A little werewolf in vampire territory, that's a rare sight." He was circling around them, feeling the uneasiness coming off of them.

Misaki was shocked. "You're a vamp?" She asked, confusion painted all over her face now.

Ronin paused, now he was dumb founded.

"What do you mean? Doncha have that super smell so you can feel vampire scent better or something?" He asked, leaning on the broken coffin with his arms crossed over his chest.

Misaki froze, embarrassment washing over them as they looked down at their hands so they wouldn't face the vampire. "I suck at smelling, I suck at being a werewolf in general actually." They chuckled, trying to play it of as something funny when in reality they wanted to cry their heart out because of what a disappointment they were.

"Ahh so you were kicked out? Awh, poor little woflie." Ronin chuckled and walked up to them, towering over them. "Y'know, you can stay here if ya want. I don't care, just don't destroy my stuff." He joked.

Misaki perked up after hearing that proposition and basically pulled the vampire into a tight embrace.

"Ohmygodohmygoohmygod!!!! Aaaaa! Thank you! Thank you!' They were giggling and jumping like an excited child, unaware of how strong their grip was.

"Uh yeah sure, just stop breaking my ribs unless you want this whole manor for yourself." Ronin said and Misaki immediately moved back.

"Ack! Shit. Sorry..um..."

"Ronin." Ronin said finally introducing yourself.

"Yeah, I'm Misaki!" They said with a beaming smile, feeling a little better now.

So now the werewolf and the vampire share a house...

[irisposts]

Rosyln pt.3

part one & part two

pt 3!!!!

i want to do a fully story on this pairing but i think this is a good place to stop. unless you guys want more!!! :)) so pls reblog and comment

edited: yes/no

It’s been a week since the campfire. You and Ellie haven’t talked about that night since—or talked much at all. The morning after, Ellie’s arm was still wrapped around you. Her face nuzzled into your hair. You wanted to stay like that. Be with her. But a sudden thought had made you check the time on your watch. You were running late on a patrol with your best friend Marci, and you weren’t looking forward to dishwashing duties as punishment. So you snuck out of bed, and since that moment. It’s been awkward to say the least…

“Seems like she’s getting really close with Dina.” Marci takes a bite out of her apple. Her eyes locked on Ellie helping Dina out of a pile of snow. She squints her eyes in distaste.

Finn rolls his eyes, giving Marci a shove with his shoulder. “Don’t listen to her.” Finn was three years younger than marci, yet despite being 16, he acts like the older sibling of the two. The only exception being Jesse, he looked up to him as a big brother.

“Ow.” Marci rubs at her side, cursing at her brother beneath her breathe. “Dick.”

You turn your head to catch a glimpse. You swallow down the tight lump in your throat as Dina pulls Ellie down into the snow with her. They both roll over in laughter. You return your attention back to Finn and Marci. Suddenly, feeling a weird tug at your heart.

“Hey.” Marci leans over the table, a hint of mischief in her tone. “Wanna make her jealous by being my date tomorrow?” She grins at you.

You scrunch your face, “A date for what?”

Finn snatches Marci’s apple, taking a quick bite. “Party at the barn.”

Marci scoffs at her brother. “Dude?”

“I don’t know…” You tap your fingers along the dry wooden table. “Partys aren’t really my thing—”

Marci groans out loud. “—Y/N! Come on! We deserve a night to ourselves. Please?” She tugs at your hand, holding it tight with pleading eyes. “Please y/n, please, please, please, please, please—”

Finn looks over to you with disgust. “—Please make her stop…”

You sigh. “Okay.”

Marci screams and practically goes over the table to kiss over your face. “You’re the fucking best!”

You laugh and find yourself looking back to Ellie. She’s standing now, snow all over her clothes. She’s staring right at you, her expression unreadable. It isn’t until Dina pulls at her hand that your eye contact breaks.

You think you might be sick.

“Come on take the shot, I know you want to.” Marci sways to the music. A shot of moonshine in her hand hovers around your face.

Politely you move it down. “I’m okay.”

Marci scrunches her face with distaste. “Fuck, where’s Jesse.”

You look over your shoulder to the bar. Jesse’s off to the corner of it, having a drink with Finn. Your eyes linger over and you see Ellie leant against the bar, drinking. She notices you as well, she tilts her head to your direction. You offer a small smile back.

“Okay.” Mari pulls your attention back to her. She downs the shot, placing the glass on a table to the side. “Do I look okay?”

“You look… hot.”

Marci smiles, “Really?” She attempts to take a step forward.

“Okay!” You grab her at the waist. “Let me help you walk over...” You guide her to the other side of the room, waving to a few familiar faces in the crowd.

“Hey guys,” You motion for Finn to grab his sister.

He shakes his head ‘no.’ To make it even clearer to you, he slices at his throat.

You turn to Jesse, pushing Marci into Finn’s arms. “You clean up nice cowboy.”

Jesse chuckles. “Why thank you.” He pretends to tip his hat, making you smile. You loved that country accent of his. He looks off to the side of you.

“Hey.”

You heart stops at the sound of that voice.

You turn, “Ellie, hey…”

She scratches the back of her neck. You note the lack of eye contact and nervousness in her voice. “Can we talk?” She holds out her hand.

“Y-Yeah.” You take it, letting that familiar warmth touch your skin. You look back to your friends, Marci sloppy grinds the air and Finn holds two fingers like a ‘V’ to his lips and sticks out his tounge. Jesse side eyes the both of them. You laugh to yourself and let Ellie whisk you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think of you as much of a dancer.” You wrap your arms around Ellie’s neck.

Ellie chuckles, “Mm.” She places her hands at the small of your waist and back. “I don’t like to put all my cards out on the table.”

You giggle. “Oh really?” You sway for a moment. “…I missed you.”

Ellie holds you tighter. “Me too.”

“It’s been so tense and awkard…” You look to Ellie. “I wanna go back to before.”

Ellie clears her throat, casting her eyes down. “Like as friends…?”

Your furrow your brows. “No…No of course not.” You think for a moment. “Not as friends…” You lean forward a bit. “I’ve never wanted to be your friend.”

Ellie blinks at this. “I don’t wanna be friends either .”

The music around you starts to pick up. You smile the biggest you’ve ever done in a while.

Ellie chuckles to herself. “All this time I thought—I thought maybe I came on too strong and that you had changed your mind about me…”

“You thought wrong.” You come closer, playfully raising a brow. “I thought I made it pretty obvious.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Shut up, I’m an overthinker.”

You two laugh again, but take a moment to really look at one another. You note the hundreds of freckles on either cheeks, the different hues of green and blue in her eyes, the scar on her eyebrow.

Ellie brings that familiar hand up to your cheek. “You look beautiful.” She shyly looks around. “I think everyone’s looking at you…”

You shrug, focusing your attention solely on Ellie. “Or maybe they’re looking at you…?”

“No…” Ellie looks to the crowd. “I’m just a girl…not a threat.”

“Oh, Ellie.” You comb a strand of hair behind her ear. “They should be terrified of you.”

It’s almost as if somethings clicked within Ellie. You find that your both leaning forward. Then the next, letting your lips touch. You note how soft her lips are and the faint taste of liquor. The kiss is so tender and sweet. It’s the physical affirmation of built up passion for one another. When you pull away, you can’t help but yearn for more.

You smile up at her. “Well?”

Ellie can’t help but smile.

[sloth-babied]

Love Will Find a Way

Sam Obisanya x reader

Summary: After a year of trying to get over Sam Obisanya, Colin insists you attend a speed dating event with him. 

And would you look at that, Sam’s here too. 

Contains: Drinking, light angst, and fluff. No use of y/n.

Word count: 2.8k

Notes: The fact that there aren't a numerous amount of fics about Sam is actually a crime so I had to step in.

Enjoy!

“Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life,” Colin reads the pink chalk-written words on a wooden A-frame sign in front of the restaurant. He turns to you, pursing his lip while nodding as if he were impressed. 

You simply smile and nod, indulging your friend who suggested you come here with him.

You observe the room once you two enter—the quintessential red and pink balloons at every corner of the room, including pink lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Red and pink decor are set all around the place with a banner hanging maliciously over the seating area:

FOR SINGLES READY FOR LOVE

You sigh before you continue to look around. There’s a lot of older people here; people in their mid-forties and up. Makes sense. Those around your age usually rely on dating apps, but there are a few exceptions which, you guess, is a relief. 

You’re able to identify two other young people and realize one of them is Isaac. And the other is…oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck.

You grab Colin’s bicep, hoping to reroute your plans. “You know what, actually I think I change my mind—”

“Wait, is that Isaac and Sam?” He notices, raising his damn hand excitedly. “Isaac! Sam!” Colin places his fists on his hips, shaking his head. “Who knew they’d be here?”

You give him a hardened stare before offering the other two footballers a disingenuous smile as they walk your way, drinks in hand.

Naturally your eyes drift to Sam and you can’t resist admiring his outfit for the night. A black turtleneck and brown khakis.

This is going to be a long night.

“Wild seein’ you here, innit?” Isaac says.

Colin nods fervently. “Yeah, weird coincidence.”

Sam gestures his drink in your direction. “What brings you here?

Oh, god, he’s talking to you.

You scratch the back of your neck nervously. “Colin was nice enough to invite me,” you tell him, though ‘nice’ is not the word you would honestly use. ‘Cruel’ sounds more accurate, but you digress.

Sam smiles thoughtfully, though he can’t say he doesn’t feel as awkward as you. “I’m sure you’ll find a match. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

You ignore Isaac and Colin glancing at each other, gripping the strap of your tote bag just a tad bit tighter. “And to you, also,” you shoot him a finger-gun with your free hand. “ As well. Too.”

You’re insufferable, but Sam chortles anyway, thank goodness for that.

“Finally got Sam off Bantr.” Isaac pats Sam’s back.

Sam shakes his head. “I deleted my account a long time ago.”

And you know why. It’s hard to think about Sam’s relationship with Rebecca without feeling a little jealous…okay, a lot.

Sam sips his punch. “Isaac suggested I come here, so here I am.”

Ding, ding, ding!

You all turn your heads to a woman holding a call bell in her hand. “The event begins in five minutes!”

And so the night begins.

Each date feels prolonged despite being on a three-minute timer. Many people who are much older than you discuss topics beyond your time or too early in your longevity to experience. And when you meet people around your age, well, let's say a severe lack of chemistry is the only thing that comes into mind.

Admittedly, you debated pregaming before Colin picked you up. You decided against it until you saw Sam here, therefore during the five-minute break, you mumble, "Eh, what the hell?" to yourself before sneaking off to the bar, ordering a shot of tequila before you and Sam meet.

Liquid courage.

Sam greets you with a pursed smile, waving his questionnaire card (cutely) and taking a seat in front of you. "Hi."

“Hey.” You smile back a bit more enthused than usual. Less nervous. More loose.

“So how are your dates going?” Sam wiggles his eyebrows.

You lean forward closer to him, balancing a pen between two fingers. “Hmm. Oh, see that guy over there?”

Sam’s head stealthily turns to the man you point at—slick back gray hair with a salt and pepper beard. 

“Apparently, he owns 0.5% of West Ham.” 

Sam looks back at you, leaning closer. “Dealbreaker?”

You nod exaggeratedly, leaning away. “Very much so, Sam. You know I’m ride-or-die for Richmond.”

He pats his chest, smiling playfully. “I’m flattered.”

From two different areas of the room, Colin and Isaac are seated with their respective dates. Colin and Issac narrow their eyes on you and Sam, shushing their poor dates whenever they attempt to speak.

When you feel your neck practically burning, you swivel your stool, catching them do a questionable job at pretending they weren’t just hyper-focused on you and Sam.

Colin mouths fake words to his very confused date who will certainly write him off later. Isaac looks upward, chin on his palm, eyes squinted, and mouth parted as if he were in deep thought.

“Okay…” You murmur to yourself before facing Sam again. “How about you, huh? Meet anyone you fancy yet?”

He offers a sigh, tilting his head towards his previous date. “See that woman over there?”

You discreetly look to the left and see an elderly woman speaking with her date, a man fortunately around her age. They seem to be hitting it off.

Sam shakes his head, feigning a disappointed sigh. “I thought we had something.”

“Another older white woman stolen from you, man. You gonna take that?” You tilt your upper body towards the perhaps soon-to-be couple before sipping your ice water.

Sam’s shoulders bounce, chuckling. He turns to them. “Yes, I am.”

You also turn, feeling envious from the sight. You observe the woman’s incredibly pink face and the subtle red on the olive-skinned man’s cheeks. Mutually smitten.

You and Sam face each other in unison, both of your hands below the table as you lean your torsos against the round table. Sam’s hands clasp beneath the surface while yours continue to fiddle with your pen.

Colin hides behind his questionnaire paper below his eyes—espionage still at work—and Isaac ignores his date once again, enthralled by your date as if it were a movie. 

If only there were popcorn, he thinks.

Sam says your name, but you’re stuck in his trance, buzzed and hypnotized. His voice swims around the atmosphere he tends to unintentionally create whenever you speak to him.

Then you remember what occurred a year ago; you remember the reason why you slightly furthered yourself from him in hopes of moving on. Frankly, it didn’t work very well.

Isaac’s brows furrow even deeper than usual, and he looks over at Colin who shrugs at him, sharing the same concern as you back away from Sam. You sober your deluded mind with another drink of water, reminding yourself that Sam is just…Sam. He’s naturally kind, charming, and genuine. He gets along with everyone. You’re not special.

You hold your questionnaire out, smiling tightly. “What am I doing? We’re supposed to be asking each other questions. Uh, okay, let’s see.” You scan your sheet. “What’s your dream career?” You ask hastily. You awkwardly laugh at yourself. “That’s a stupid question.”

Sam repeats your name, but you’re too lost rambling about the stupid questions in your hand.

“Where are you from originally?” You cower behind the paper. “Know that, too. Uhm, okay, let’s see. Oh! Here, if you were an animal, what would you be—”

Sam says your name louder and places his hand on yours, lowering the paper from your face.

“A goldfish. If I were an animal, I’d be a goldfish,” he answers.

You peer down at your hands. “The ten-second memory thing Coach Lasso told you about.”

He slowly pulls his hand off yours, but it sits close by. He nods. “Exactly. There are certain things I want to forget; things I cannot change. But there are things that I can change.”

Things he can change? Where is he going with this?

He continues. “Last year when you asked me—”

Ding, ding, ding, you both hear, jumping at the sound of the call bell. Chairs scrape the red-checkered floor and the sound of shoes patter all around you. Time to go.

“See ya, Sam,” you hurry to your next date who just so happens to be the captain of the Richmond football team. “Isaac, hey.”

He simply shakes his head. 

Four more rounds pass until the host of the speed dating event gives out the last announcement.

“Alright, everyone! Whoever you scored most with is your match. Say ‘hi’ to your potential partner! And give yourselves a round of applause for putting yourself out there tonight!”

Two pairs of hands clap with her, hands belonging to Colin and Isaac. You refrain from rolling your eyes at them when the bartender approaches you.

“What can I get you?”

“Uh, a Jack and Coke please.” You face her before turning around again.

You observe Sam speaking with one of the organizers of the event. The organizer reluctantly hands Sam his score sheet with a confused expression on her face. He nearly catches you staring until you turn back to the counter.

“One Jack and Coke.” The bartender sets down your drink, but not without noticing you eyeing Sam. She smirks, wiping down a glass cup with a cloth that was previously on her shoulder. (Classic bartender move.) “Obisanya your match?”

You study the small sheet in your hand, analyzing the scores and the contact information of someone already on your phone.

“Oi! How the hell did you match with me?” You hear Isaac stomp behind you. 

You smile mischievously, gesturing your head toward him. 

The bartender nods, pouting her lower lip before finding another customer, and you use the counter to spin yourself around to your distressed friend.

“Maybe we’re soulmates,” you suggest facetiously, lifting your drink towards him.

Truth is, you might have taken a peek at his questionnaire sheet when he kept exchanging looks with Colin. His disappointment earlier combined with Colin’s invasive questions about your date with Sam after you got through all your sessions helped piece things together.

Plus, Colin’s insistence that you come to this event in the first place. 

“Get in line.” He stands with his arms crossed next to Issac.

Isaac sits and harshly waves his sheet. “Why copy my sheet when your real match is-”

Colin clears his throat, poking his elbow against Isaac’s arms.

“Somewhere in this room,” Isaac finishes.

The only one in this room who piqued your interest was Sam. Towards the end, there were potential candidates. However, neither was Sam Obisanya.

You scoff, sipping your drink. “Nice save, Lindsey Lohan. I’ve seen Parent Trap enough times to know what’s going on here.”

You wonder why they’d want to pull something like this, especially after you told them that Sam turned you down. Pestering Sam to go on a stupid date with you is not something you would ever do, nor something a normal person should do, period.

God, you hope Sam doesn’t think you did this on purpose.

Isaac continues to eye you disapprovingly before his gazes shifts upwards to a new presence behind you, this presence being none other than Sam leaning his side against the counter. And now you’re sitting between him and the other two sneaky bastards.

“Sam! Who’d you match with?” Colin reaches in front of you and snatches Sam’s score sheet. He frowns. “No one?”

Isaac yanks the sheet from Colin’s hand. “What? How’s that even possible?”

Sam plucks his sheet back from Isaac, stuffing it in his back pocket. “If it’s alright with you two, I’d like to discuss something with them.” He looks down at you. “Alone.”

Your cheeks burn up, easily. Is it the whiskey? Is it Sam? Either way, you’re taking another sip. 

Isaac gets up immediately, rapidly nodding alongside Colin, saying, “Yeah, ‘course, bruv,” before the two footballers leave, whispering to each other. 

You place your drink down and fold your arms on the counter as Sam sits beside you. 

His sweet smile doesn’t cease. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you respond sheepishly. You take a third sip before speaking again. “So no one, huh?”

Sam shakes his head. “Thought I maybe had a chance with her,” he jokes.

You find the elderly lady from earlier matched with the elderly man. He leans on his cane with one hand and his other hand snakes around his date’s arm, hooking it with his. 

Maybe speed dates work after all. 

“Who’d you match with?” He asks curiously. You hand him your sheet. “Isaac? How did that happen? Wasn’t he just glaring at you the whole date?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” You laugh, placing the paper back on counter.

Wait a second. Sam was watching you?

You try not to look too much into it.

He reaches for his earlobe, lightly tugging at it. “There was something I wanted to tell you before our date ended.”

Oh, god. Is he going to admit how uncomfortable you make him? Is he ending your friendship right now? Yeah, you added some distance between the two of you, but in your defense, you had no intentions of actually ending your relationship.

He speaks a little louder. “Last year, you told me you liked me. Romantically.”

Fuck, you despise the recap.

“And I told you I didn’t feel the same way.”

You clasp your hand around your glass, however Sam stops you, hand on yours.

“Let me finish. Please.”

You dubiously comply, releasing your hand from the cup and nod, letting him continue with whatever gut-wrenching news is going to wreck you for the next few months.

Your head faces his direction, but you stare off at nothing in particular.

He continues. “I was telling the truth when I said I didn’t feel the same way. But as time passed, the more we got to know each other and the more things in my love life started to unravel, I started to fall in love.”

You furrow your brows, meeting your eyes with his. 

“With you,” he adds. “And I understand if you don’t feel the same way anymore. But I just…wanted to tell you how I felt.”

What the hell is happening? This is a prank, right? 

You take a look behind you, wondering if perhaps there was someone beside or behind you who he was confessing his feelings to instead.

Nope, just you. You’re barely tipsy, so there’s no way you’re misunderstanding him. 

You remain quiet, not quite sure what to say. The expression on your face worries him and he calls your name.

You softly shake your head. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” 

Now it’s Sam’s turn to internally freak out. He glances at your drink, wondering if he could ask for a gulp.

“Uh…” Sam tugs at his earlobe again and chuckles nervously. “I like you?”

Maybe two sips, he thinks. Three? No, no, that’s irresponsible, he decides.

“Can I have a glass of water please?” He raises his palm at the bartender, politely ordering to fill the silence.

You grab his wrist and lower his hand on the counter, sliding your hand over his, adding, “Make that two,” to his order, because there is absolutely no way you’re getting drunk after what he just told you.

Sam looks away from the bartender and he takes notice of your hands. His ears warm up.

“Definitely wanna be sober for this,” you tell him quietly, and the edges of his lips curve upward. Hesitantly, he entwines his fingers through yours like they belong there.

“Two waters.” The bartender drops off your drinks, glancing at your hands. She raises her brows before leaving you alone.

Sam uncombs his fingers from yours, getting up from his chair. He moves closer to you and spins you by the backrest of your chair, so your body faces him. Then he cups your face. “I don’t know if they allow PDA here, but may I kiss you?”

You gently hold on to his wrists. “They host speed dates every week. I’m sure one kiss is fine.”

He giggles, moving his face closer to yours, murmuring, “One kiss?”

You flicker your gaze between his eyes and mouth. “Or two.” You shrug. “But yes. You may.”

Sam licks his lips before sinking them into yours, and his eyes and yours instinctively shut. You inhale deeply through your nose, breathing in the person you didn’t know would expect to eventually reciprocate your feelings.

His lips are so soft, pillowy against your own. He massages his lips on yours, enveloping himself deeper against you by tilting his head. You feel lightheaded—a delightful combination of his kissing skills and the faded work of the alcohol you ingested earlier. 

Your daydreams do not serve the real thing.

You’re the first to pull away, catching your breath. “Seriously though, how didn’t you match with anybody?”

Sam smiles proudly and pecks your lips. “I asked one of the event-coordinators not to score my sheet. Told her I changed my mind.”

You stand, removing his hands from your face without letting go. “Good.”

From a distance, Colin and Isaac sit at a table, gazing at the other couple like before.

Isaac holds his plastic cup out, smirking. “Too easy, man.”

Colin clinks his cup against Isaac’s. “Too easy.”

[spoonyruncible]

I'm not gatekeeping, I just have some gates and I've sort of vaguely known they're there, I haven't kept them and the hinges are so rusty i doubt they'd close if I tried. But, like, for ages all that came through those gates were stray geese and a dog I think belongs to a neighbor but might just belong to himself and of course there's the hunching afflicted wrathbeast. That's just having a garden. Things grow there and random folks stumble in sometimes, mispronounce the names of my favorite varietals, say stunningly inaccurate things about them, and wander bemusedly back out.

As a surprise to probably no one I was a deeply lonely child. No one really got me or what my deal was, so when I found something I loved it was mine and mine alone to treasure. As I got older I found other people who liked 'my' things. Some of those people were horrible! But there was a kinship and it was okay to be a bit horrible so long as we could be odd together. Gardens are resilient things, they tolerate mistakes and abuse. It's absolutely wonderful to share, to dance to the same music, that imperfection becomes part of the joy of it, becomes a unique thing unto itself.

So imagine my shock when there is a garden party that rapidly becomes a festival. No one has ever really been here before, it's been me and the geese and that one dog and a few other weirdos. Suddenly my things, things people beat me for loving, are things everyone loves. All at once the landscape is unrecognizable and if I acknowledge that then I'm being a hipster. I don't mind the festival, it's nice, now it's much easier to get things I need without having to put on my trekking gear and hike out to the one obscure location that has The Supplies. It's not bad, it's just weird. It feels like there is something wrong with me instead of something wrong about liking what I like.

I'm not really talking about one specific thing here, there have been a lot of these moments where what used to be unusual or even shameful is now the big thing. And it's good, it's can be great sometimes even with the unforeseen bizarre bad parts. But there is this selfish little part of me that wants to cling to my unloved love, to put a raggedy LP on a barely working record player and lay on the wooden floor of my childhood home staring at a painting of a ship in a storm that is right beside a picture of a young man in a cap and a too large jacket and listen to sea shanties belted out by people not very good at singing while I drift and drift and drift away on the sound and the whitecaps to a place where there is only this. I love the new versions like a drowning man loves air, I am happy that people have found this beautiful thing and can enjoy it, but there is a tinge to it I don't like. A prick of pain every time I see this joy over my joy, over my joy that I was punished for, humiliated for, shamed for. I'm glad people can love these things without suffering but it makes my suffering seem so fucking stupid.

There is a certain temptation, a bitter agony, that makes me want to hiss like an abused cat and cling jealous to my silly little toys. It's not that I want them all for myself, it's that I can't let go of that little kid with a bruisy eye sulking because no one wants to play with him. It's the whisper of, "We can be friends but only in secret. I don't want people to know I'm like you." It's the enthusiasm that rapidly becomes muted because the whole world is demanding to know why you can't just be normal for once. But that same temptation to lash out is the one that makes me reach out my hand instead, especially to people who are like, "Wow! I've never been to a garden before. I'm gonna screw this up. How do I not screw it up?" because now they're that bruisy eyed kid no one wants to play with. I can't protect the person I used to be by becoming the exact thing that hurt me. Gotta keep the gate open, gotta get used to new things even if it takes noise cancelling headphones and an entirely rational amount of backsliding, gotta wake up every day and keep trying even though the world keeps throwing curveballs that no sane person could anticipate. It's all okay. We're in this together and we're all gonna be okay,

[asherlockstudy]

Hi! Can you look at GMM today and tell us what to think of the ring situation (who's wearing which ring(s) and what it means)? And anything else you picked up on todays shows of course or anything else you want to share. Thank you!

The rings are a weak spot of mine cause I never notice whether there’s something off about them! Did you notice anything weird? I saw they both wore the wooden /“friendship” rings and Rhett still sports his oura ring. Link hasn’t for a while, maybe it doesn’t work anymore? Did anything else catch your attention?

Rings aside, that was one interesting day at work for them, wasn’t it? It is actually one of the rare cases I remember Rhett to be even more freaked out than Link. Like I had said recently, they definitely go through a phase lately. Link has been extra salty for some weeks and Rhett has become less patient than usual. Today it seemed like Rhett was barely holding it from the beginning and then some typical Link silliness was enough to set him off. Rhett all but exploded and Link was a little startled by that. Link tried to make light of it in GMM so that they wouldn’t just throw hands on the main episode lol but when they sat back on the desk for GMMore he took out some of his frustration on the Spork lady, because he knew confronting Rhett right then and there would send GMMore off the rails. In any case, they definitely had a fight before filming today’s episodes, there’s no other explanation.

I don’t know how this off phase they go through relates to the special videos they are preparing (like the “dig a hole” one) or the spring break they are taking. Did Rhett go anywhere? It seemed like Link went on a vacation but Rhett didn’t. We’ll see in the next Ear Biscuits. Rhett was in a foul mood during Link’s vacation as well, as he complained on Ear Biscuits about how nasty Link can be to him but it always goes under the fans’ radar.

So, I wonder, was Link’s trip a decision for them to take some time from each other and calm down? People are talking a lot today about their obvious anger and one commented she noticed things started being off when Link said he was going on vacation without Rhett. I am not sure this is the case though. Isn’t Rhett the NOT jealous one? They go on vacation separately many times as well, I don’t see why that would be a big deal. Also, those episodes today, were they filmed before or after Link’s trip? My bet is before as they usually film well ahead so this fallout might have been a little before Link left for the ski trip.

Ps.1: There was also some implication that Link cares too much about the way he looks? XD

PS.2: Rhett was mad enough that he also went for a lower blow, that of Christy feeling bad for loving Link, to which Link couldn't find a witty reply. That was uncharacteristically daring on Rhett's part and this means he was pretty angry.

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

12.11.24 Wednesday-Wash your hands! Take care of nana and still praying for nana's recovery in a lil while... It will take time...

5:26 am

Still,have windblow...

I still have faith and I know nothing is impossible in this world if you have faith... But if the people in the mystery are religious but if not,this will be the saddest part of my life....The saddest phase of my life knowing that some relatives, old friends and some people that I met and some mutual distant chinese friends who can do the act of religious switching of spirit but they will not do... Coz they are traitors? I hope and pray not.... This will be the saddest part of my life... Still, praying for some true friendship.

But it is just sad some and most INC or Church Of Christ are sometimes the traitor in this world!!!

Like what I posted from the past months and yesterday....There are selfish group of Manalo's that they acquire the wealth in this world selfishly that they kill their own churchmates coz they are not one of them...

It is weird to expand the explanation....Yeah! For example we are both INC's or Church Of Christ members but inside of it there are an another weird organization who have the wealth grouping that only them can acquire....I think some of them called the "organizers of the world" who can access free on plane and some got cars.

Another thing, the worst or I'm religious enough and fair... Or I'm just jealous at least my heart is genuine,still genuiene... That particular group of INC's or Church Of Christ are just an ordinary church goer but observer on people like us who were a "choir members"... Me and my adoptive mother or my Aunt Teresa who raised me here. I feel jealous on those organizers of the world coz the "vagina's of their wives" are smooth like a marmol/ marble stone and soft and juicy like a chiffon cake. You know what I mean? Gets? But when the time that they checked me on the peephole of my door, they condemned me! Gets?How traitor these people... How Chiffon the cakes of their wives!!!

Again, these group of people inside the INC or Church Of Christ are just ordinary church goer...Time that we had money here,time that we had a business, the reason I was spoiled... We had a Karaoke Club Bar Pierrot,my adoptive parent's gave a 100k per special end of the term of giving an abuloy or act of service in money form in the church way back... Aside from the other act of service in money form that my family gave to the church. I'm just sharing a story here,the truth...

But they were just working my adoptive parent's or the people who raised me here....But we were active in the church and we were choir members! There was and are still existing group inside the Church Of Christ or INC's who are still ordinary church goer but they are still selfish on being the "organizers of the world"!

I need a new phone angels...

Who deserve to have a chiffon cake???

I was not an ordinary church goer.

I was an active choir member, I was an active lead in the children's service. I was active on visitation even on Muslim group! I was an active pure 2nd lead of single group in the church!

In LOVE you shouldn't fake it...

7:58 am

Still, have windblow...

Harold didn't lock the padlock....Easy to do it but he forgot!

We saw it Crysette and I this am....What is the real character of Harold?

I texted him and remind him to always lock the padlock of the gate....Easy to do but he forgot or intentionally???

Then,they put Neko every night.... Traitor group!

What does it show?

11:44 am

Still,have windblow...

Uncle DD is putting a wooden frame on their door now... He is hammering the wooden frame now that he is doing...

Are they hiding on something??? Uncle DD's behaviour is weird as well....What is happening???

1pm

Still,have windblow...

I told Harold, in a nice way, I just reminded him to lock the padlock of our gate coz we are family here right???

Again, we want to correct the behavioir of getting stuff even if it is just a "practical joke"... As a family we should have a heart to take care of one another or be concern even a lil...

I know the bad people will just walk on there smoothly... They will use the gate as if like us here... If Harold will not lock the padlock...

Like me? I'm on tight budegeting, I don't wanna dwell on buying panties these days, that I can still use the old panties for now....I wanna buy other stuff,most specially Lazadah will have their sale.... Lemme enjoy the moment, I'm still broke...

Now, that I don't have a hero.... I can a be hero of my cousin-white Dubiois and Daniel Marsh I hope he can be my hero!

2:21 pm

Still,have windblow...

Done, finally watching the "Orange is the new Black" just on the entire first season where I got that "Breakfast is the New Dinner"...

I still have plans and I really don't know if my old fakers friends are real to me but I have friends who gave their charity on me lately like Mr & Mrs Salarda or Rose & Ivan and others (blind item ) but they have their own obligations in life, their money are just exact for them, it happened that Rose just inserted me on their shopping list the last time. They gave me that expensive but I love coffee japanesse collagen. The Mocha and Melon coffee, really2x yummy!

Thanks to Ivan & Rose...

I'm still worrying everyday,where can I get money and I need a job by next year...

How to inveatigate my cousin-white Dubious was it real that his mother vomited me coz I took up caregiving and became one,at one point of my life... They just see me as a lower human being???

What else??? How to get help from Daniel Marsh? To be my hero for now on stuff that I need to do...

What else? I'm fucking guilty for eating the entire "Chiffon Cake" of Julies that hoping one day I can make mine as Chiffon....Still, thinking of future... .

Why, should I wanted to make a Chiffon Cake coz upperish people doing it? Wealthy organization of INC or Church Of Christ wifey's are on a Chiffon Cake. It is addictive...

I still need to do weight management....

2:46 pm

Still,have windblow...

Tribute for baby Karen!

So, fuckingless happy! This is so cute angels!!! But still can't beat baby-Karen for her genuine CROCS!

Proud to have BRONSKI Korean brand, angels!!!

In the future, I will buy genuine CROCS angels!!!

6:26 pm

Still,have windblow...

Weight management....I must do angels...

I miss treadmill but if I can have a gym in the house,why not... But I wanna gain friends of course....

7:14 pm

Still,have windblow...

Stop, sandwiching me...Stop!

I wanna gain friends somewhere... MATURED PEOPLE NOT HERE!

I hate young girls, I only chose Princess the girl I met in Conduent...

I love Princess so much, I'm seeing my younger self... Pretty inside and out....

I love my cousin! I don't like Borgy! I love my cousin and I love Daniel my hero....

I don't like Borgy anymore! There are 2 girls who are interfering on me here in Cavite... Why, they will sandwich me?! Who are they???. I don't know them!!! I don't like Borgy!

I went out just checking something... I saw 2 girls it seem sandwiching me and follower of Borgy...

One of the reasons,I wanna leave Cavite coz they will not stop on movement me going to Borgy...

I will hate my cousin if he is closer on young girls here... Or if he will just give way without talking to me... I need to investigate Daniel...

It's been 17 years angels... I wanna do some investigation on my cousin-white Dubious and I want Daniel to help me...I know he can easily get girls....But I need someone to help me....Be my hero...

[masterkirby]

My insulin pump woke me up. It hasn't in a while but I forgot to change the battery before going to sleep when it was already in the red.

///

escapism perfected

here's a rare moment with my thoughts

5 am and no TV series, video essays,

laundry to do or games to play

so what is it sitting deepest

the belief is that something must be

sitting there

people are not born sad

I've heard

but I remember darkness in my earliest memories

nightmares, beasts and bad people out to get me

where I come from a fairly warm home

deeply caring but unable to convey feelings

and also deeply committed to their own pursuits

the academic father and religious devotee mother

when did the sadness set in? And anger

I'd take my anger out on my Kelly dolls

drown them in the bath, burn them in a lamp,

bite their annoying faces, hands, toes

I'd squish their heads with the lid

of the wooden chest we had in the yellow room

when did I move to the yellow room and why?

I'd lie to people to seem cooler from too early on

to care, though maybe that's underestimating

a child's mind and needs

I would be shy and hid behind my mother's skirts

she wore only skirts, long skirts, but on photos

she would wear trousers

how must she have felt in a foreign country

always the heavy accent and grammatical errors

with a guy she must've barely known

did she know beforehand that he had meltdowns

(we know what to call them only since recently)

and would howl when something didn't work out

walk furiously back and forth, hands wringing,

face contorted, self loathing, swearing

and even without that

often hidden deep inside

his thoughts

I've inherited those parts of him, by the way

maybe I also inherited (from whom?)

early feelings of inadequacy and being weird

I remember feeling so weird and awkward

jealous of the natural charm of some

but I did have friends, sleepovers, birthday parties

my token problematic friend from a hard family

by token I mean that she has been in my life

under at least three different people

always blond, small, aggressive under her

Insecurities

if there's a type for love interests

why not for close friends? best friends, at times

Now I have my soulmate, my sunflower

blond but taller than me, strong, naturally

loving and understanding of the world

she'd often brought me out of misplaced beliefs

brought me out of my head

I love her so much my heart aches

and I'm so scared that she'll leave early

like mother did

There was a best friend, soulmate back before

we moved

blond, tanned, lean, a bit taller than me,

I loved her a lot as well

for how impressive she was

tomboyish but girly

and so much fun to be around

we'd spend so much time playing pretend

running around the outdoors

going on adventures

or talking about why Mary is/n't a saint

in her room with a pink canopy over her bed

looking at her or the lava lamp

I'd tell her about my latest exploits in RuneScape

and I probably won't remember what else

once, she got mad at me for swearing

and soon my parents got a call from hers

that if I keep this up, they won't let us meet

Now she's still in her belief (I really don't know

Dad will probably remember, once

he had B's father over for dinner

and his friend from academia, a physics professor

and the two had a heated argument

over the beginning of the world)

in the army (air force

all three of them, her brothers and she)

and married with an army man

I know this from Facebook, we haven't talked

and I haven't checked in a while, probably

kids by now

while I still swear quite a bit, atheist and largely

unemployed, living from part-time jobs

and my father's financial support

Even as a kid I was unhappy with the way I am

it's hard for me to fathom that now

how could it have started? Was it the shyness?

I talked to B from the neighbourhood kids

a bit with her younger brother

but really nobody else

There were also O and V from ballet

C the daughter of our Polish dentist

(that sounds like Polish cleaning lady but it's just

that we're Polish)

L from school possibly but maybe only

the garden of kids

Was V from school as well?

She had an American Girl doll in likeness

we watched E.T. and I couldn't fall asleep

gaining some understanding of L

who would call for her mom when sleeping over

and there was M who seemed so cold but cool

so I never managed to befriend her

Basically, if I vibed or was introduced to sb

an opening into the friendship afforded

a friendship could be established

more or less superficial

more or less awkward

I think only with B and a bit with L (like with

N and now J)

it wasn't awkward

I spent my first night in a tent by the lake

with L

caterpillars raining down throughout the night

I lost my glasses on my nose then

up by Black Moshanoon Lake

We'd go there fairly recently for family trips

and it'd feel like such a long drive

where I recently checked that it couldn't have

been more than half an hour

It was a bit further to Horseshoe Curve

but we'd stay there for the whole day

watching and listening to freight trains

struggle on by

we'd get Thomas the Tank Engine trains

for Christmases and birthdays

and absolutely loved the show

but we'd also watch cabin rides, a bit later on

though

One of my favourite childhood memories

was watching screensavers on my dad's

old old computer (well, it was new then)

xscreensavers

just sitting the entire evening engrossed

while dad read newspapers or talked to us

my brother and me

about who knows what

he'd traumatized me once with a story from

the news

a girl got eaten by her babysitting neighbour

a life like my own made into stew

Dad would listen to music, Mozart, Bach, Vivaldi,

throughout the evenings, in the room with books

downstairs

strolling back and forth and back and forth

for hours

deep in some mathematical problem

and I'd fall asleep in the brown reading chair,

the one you could live in, so soft and vast,

and pretend to stay asleep as he carried me

upstairs, to sleep

Mom often told me and my older brother stories

she herself seems to have made up

about our car Mazda, for example

or our hulajnogi

or she'd sing "Zapada zmrok" or "Kotki dwa"

It still hurts so much to think about her. I'd been reminiscing, flowing for the past 1,5h but now I've hit a wall. I miss her so so much, especially in my earliest memories. We drifted apart later but she's still so vibrant in my mind. I always dream of her as a living, breathing person, just right there within reach, as usual. But as I always say, I was sad even before she tragically died (a rarer form of cancer, 13 months between diagnosis and death). But the fact remains that I've never yet managed to process those events and the ongoing outcome of immense pain for me and my family.

And now it's 6:30, my K is slowly waking up for work