#to her it’s probably only been a few years…

[anonymous-ivplay]

Hey so just to add context for the lice thing, bc the tl;dr is that there's more nuance and classism is also a factor

Schools were already doing this well before the pandemic. My younger sister got lice in the spring of 2017 and our local small town high school still had her attend every day while she was treating it, as according to my mom (who's the local teacher's union rep) the school district had recently changed their policy to the above. This was a bit surprising, especially since the district had also recently established a rule that anyone sent home sick couldn't come back to school until they'd had a full 24 hours with no more symptoms. So why would lice be an exception?

Because they found that of all the documented lice cases each year, the vast majority of them would come from the same kids and the same households each time. Which meant those same kids were missing a LOT of school.

I can confirm this from personal experience. Growing up there was a kid in all my elementary and middle school classes, let's call him Aaron. This kid would get lice CONSTANTLY. Like once a month the school nurse would find it, send him home, and then he wouldn't be allowed back until the lice was gone. So after a week he'd be back with a shaved head and all lice supposedly gone, only to have it show back up a few weeks later. Now we rode the same bus, so I saw Aaron's house and could tell that it was....really not in good condition. Point being, I wasn't surprised in the least that there was a recurrent lice infestation that his folks couldn't afford to completely exterminate—that, or they just didn't care. But because of this, Aaron probably missed a combined half-semester of every school year. And yet he still got pushed through to the next grade level year after year, because the school district didn't want to lose funding by holding him back, as alluded to above.

Aaron moved to a different town in middle school and I lost touch with him, so I don't know how he's doing now or how long the lice cycle continued. But I do know that he couldn't have been the only one in this situation, not when like a third of the town I grew up in is at or below the poverty line.

So is needing funding for the school district to blame? Partly, yes. But it's not about the short term of putting more bodies in seats from day to day. It's about how many low income kids they're failing to educate by punishing them for a living situation that the kids can't control. And while I don't necessarily like that lice has a chance to spread in schools more easily now, I can at least respect that it's better than the alternative of denying already disadvantaged kids the education they deserve.

CDC voice: "I know I said we'd do something about covid if it got very high again, but we have real tough jobs to do, like removing the recommendations that children with head lice or watery diarrhea be sent home to prevent further spread of their illness."

[sleepy-steve]

pt 2 of steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 1.9k // pt 1 ♡

—

november 1984

Eddie checks. Of course he checks. Asks around, eventually to his superiors to make sure he wasn’t going to get in trouble for not collecting Steve. It’s uncommon, they tell him, rare, even. But not unheard of. People die briefly and come back to life. Usually only the one time. The answer should be good enough. Should be. Isn’t though. It frustrates Eddie to no end. Months of wondering and ruminating with the firm belief that he won’t get to see Harrington again anytime soon to ask.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

This time Eddie is on the boat. Leaning over the edge, a hand dangling low to the black water, staring at the same patch of grass he first saw Steve sitting. In fairness, all souls appeared in that general area. But Eddie is fixated on the exact spot Steve had shown off his deep chest wounds. It’s for this reason that Eddie jumps three feet into the air when Steve materialises in the same spot again less than a year later.

Sitting up with a rattling gasp and a look of fury on his bashed-in face—again?! Eddie briefly thinks—Steve yells, “Fucking Hargrove!”

“Christ, Harrington!” Eddie shouts, hand over his chest despite the distinct lack of heartbeat. “Could give a guy a bit of warning.”

Steve looks around, eyes surrounded by more dark bruising taking a second to focus on Eddie, chest heaving as he calms down. “Shit, sorry, man.”

They just look at each other for a few long moments, Eddie standing like a frightened cat on his still wobbling boat. He clears his throat to break the silence. “Who, uh. Who’s Hargrove?”

Scoffing, Steve drags a hand down the side of his face, then winces as it passes over bruising. “Douchebag new guy.” He sighs, settling his forearms on his knees. “His sister is friends with some kids I know. Was coming after them, so I…” Trailing off, Steve gestures to his face.

“What? Offered yourself up as a human punching bag and got yourself killed? Again?” Eddie says, trying not to sound too judgemental.

“Yeah, well,” Steve sighs. “I wasn’t just gonna let him beat up a kid. They’ve been through enough without some dickhead coming in and kicking the shit out of them.”

Eddie feels his brows pull together slightly as he sits back down on the bench of the boat, arms crossed over the edge. It’s not like Harrington was the big bully of Hawkins High, but defender of local kids is… new. “Sounds like a grade-A asshole.”

Steve snorts. “He is.”

“Kids were lucky to have you around as their… babysitter?” Eddie offers, cracking a grin.

Steve rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Something like that. Probably didn’t need me at all. Stuck around long enough to see her drug him, so they should be fine.”

Humming appreciatively, a thought moves across Eddie’s mind, and he can’t help himself. “…No monsters this time?”

“Ha, ha,” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know you don’t believe me, but the monsters did actually come back, which is why I was with those little shits in the first place.” He sounds annoyed, but there’s a fond look behind those bruised eyes. One that gives Eddie a little spark in his chest. “But no, this death was just a regular guy.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to snort. “This death. So casual.”

A full grin breaks out on Steve’s face, contrasting heavily with the bruises and the blood under his nose. “Well, when it’s happened this many times, kinda hard not to view it as like. Just this thing that happens, y’know?”

Eddie doesn’t really know. Of everything he’s learnt about death—through his own and through everyone he’s met since—this thing Steve goes through is beyond him. Incomprehensible. He nods anyway.

“How many times have you died, Harrington?”

“Hmm…” Steve looks up as he thinks for a moment. “This would be… five? Or six?” He shrugs. “I’m not sure if it happened when I was a baby.”

He says it so casually, so matter-of-fact, Eddie almost wants to double-take. It sounds so truthful, he struggles to not believe him. Even though Eddie knows he’s not losing much by believing him, a small part of him still has doubts. And worries for his job. “You gonna get in the boat this time?”

Steve snorts. “Not this time, buddy.” Something jolts in Eddie’s chest at the familiarity. “Maybe next time though.”

“Next time,” Eddie mutters under his breath, shaking his head. “You anticipate dying again?”

“Well, no,” Steve chuckles. “But based on how things have been… and apparently I’m not too careful.” He gestures at his bruised up face, eyes bright with humour between the blues and purples and reds.

“The monsters?” Eddie supplies, just teetering on the edge of sarcasm.

“Monsters, douchebag guys, car wrecks… you just never know.”

The casual tone in which Steve talks about his deaths still has Eddie reeling. It’s been well over a year and Eddie is surrounded by death constantly, and he still struggles to think about his own. Tells himself he’d rather not dwell, which is true, but it also hurts. He shakes it off, shifting his focus to the bruised and beaten boy in front of him.

“Or… you could save yourself the trouble, and get in the boat now?” Eddie gestures down at his boat with a little hand flair. He’s joking. Mostly. If Steve did have the chance to go back to the land of the living, Eddie didn’t want to take that away from him. Not that he thought Steve was getting that chance. Not completely, anyway.

“Wish I could, but I don’t make the rules.” Steve grins at him, like they’re sharing a secret. And they kind of were. Eddie wasn’t sure how many people knew about Steve’s semi-regular dances with death.

“And since when have you ever been one to stick to the rules?” Eddie asks, propping his arm up and resting his chin on his palm. Looking at the boy on the grass. His hair is longer this time.

Steve laughs, head tilted back. “Fair point. But if you want me on that boat, you’re gonna have to come over here and drag me onto it.” He raises a brow at Eddie in challenge.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Wish I could, but I don’t make the rules.” He repeats Steve’s words back at him, mocking him.

“Well, well, well,” Steve says, tone playful. “Look who’s being a stickler for rules now.”

“I know,” Eddie drags it out, struggling to hold back his smile. “Crazy, huh? Divine punishment for being born the son of a criminal, I guess.” Eddie’s gaze drops down to the black water beneath him.

Steve scoffs at him. “Like you never smoked pot or broke speeding laws in that van of yours.” 

Eyes widening before he can stop them, Eddie’s shocked Steve even knows about the van. Shocked that Steve knows anything about him at all. What world is he in where the king of Hawkins High knows about Eddie and his beat up old van? Even being in the grade below him, Steve had a popularity pull that was noticed by those in Eddie’s grade. Confusion and surprise subsiding, Eddie finds himself leaning forward even further.

“Coming from you?” Eddie challenges back. “We all know about the famous Harrington ragers, Mister Keg King.”

The title makes Steve roll his eyes. “Never saw you at one.”

It was true. Eddie hadn’t attended any of the parties, for fear of his reputation making him a target. He drops his gaze again. “Didn’t think I’d be welcome there.”

Steve doesn’t respond, and the silence grows between them. They haven’t moved, but Eddie feels further away from him. Like the weird little familiarity they’d developed was being forcefully shoved apart. Eddie doesn’t look up to see Steve’s reaction. Doesn’t want the pity.

“So, you really can’t get out of the boat?” Steve breaks the silence with a complete topic change.

“Nope,” Eddie responds, popping the P. “She’s my new baby, now that I don’t have my van.” He pats the side of the boat with his free hand.

Steve shifts forward until he’s sitting as close as he can to the water’s edge without getting wet. Close enough for Eddie to see the broken capillaries under his skin and the little green flecks in his eyes. He takes in the cuts on Steve’s jaw and forehead, the two black eyes, the blood under his nose. The way his knuckles are bruised and bloodied to match. Something in Eddie feels oddly… protective. Like he wants to jump in front of anything that might hurt this guy he doesn’t even really know that well.

“Change your mind about getting in the boat?” Eddie asks, voice low, now that Steve is so close.

“No,” Steve huffs a laugh. “But you can’t move, so I figured I should.”

“Just that desperate to be close to me, are you?” It slips out of Eddie’s mouth before he can think about it. And Eddie wants to punch himself in the face over it.

But to his surprise, Steve doesn’t recoil away or yell at him. Instead, he laughs softly, cheeks faintly pink beneath the bruising. “What can I say? The allure of your… baby…” He says it with a smirk. “Very tempting.”

Taken aback by Steve’s… flirting is the only word to describe it, but that can’t be right, Eddie immediately switches to joke mode. He won’t entertain the idea that Steve Harrington was honest-to-god flirting with him. He won’t.

“I’ll get you into this boat one day, Harrington. Mark my words.” 

He knocks on the edge of the boat twice before smoothing his hand over the wood. Watches as Steve’s eyes follow his hand, seemingly fixated on it. Eddie briefly wonders what would happen if he touched Steve. Would that commit Steve to being stuck here? Commit him to moving on? Would Eddie even be able to feel him?

Gaze shifting back to Eddie’s face, a smile grows on Steve’s face. “Maybe. One day.” He shrugs, like his eventual death is a fun, whimsical topic.

Eddie is about to comment on Steve’s tone, but before he can, Steve’s head whips to the side, hearing something Eddie can’t. Just like last time.

Unlike last time, Steve doesn’t get up right away. “Looks like my time’s up.”

“How do you know?” Eddie is so curious, he can’t help but ask.

“I can hear—” Steve waves vaguely around his ear. “—stuff. From where I am. The kids are yelling. Hope they’re not too freaked out.”

“Guess you better get back then,” Eddie says, trying to hide his disappointment.

“Yep.” Steve pulls himself up into a standing position, now suddenly looking down at Eddie, who leans back on instinct, shifting back on the boat bench. “But I’ll see you next time.”

“I’ll be here.” Eddie gestures at the boat, palm up. Like he has anywhere else to go. “See ya, Harrington. Stay away from monsters.”

“I’ll try,” Steve laughs, walking backwards on the grass. Keeping his eyes on Eddie as he retreats.

“Try not to get that pretty face bashed in again,” Eddie calls after Steve’s already fading form, grinning wide.

Steve just laughs, the sound of it echoing even after his body disappears from Eddie’s sight.

[janeyseymour]

All To Myself

requested by @schemmentisbaby

Summary: Your little girl is getting ready to go to Abbott- not that your wife's coworkers know.

WC: ~3.6k

Melissa Schemmenti, second grade teacher at Abbott Elementary, your wife, and mother to your beautiful little girl: Grace Marie. Melissa Schemmenti, a woman who rarely talks about herself, so all that her coworkers know about her is that she’s married- and even then, she wishes they didn’t know that. It’s not that she has anything to hide or like she’s ashamed of you, but after growing up the way that she did, she’s learned that keeping her mouth shut about personal information is probably for the best. The fact that people know she’s a Schemmenti holds enough weight as it is.

Your wife has been able to keep it quiet that she has a little girl due to the fact that while she is present on Facebook, and so are you, there are very few people that she has on there. The only people that she’s so graciously allowed to friend her on that social media app are you, her family (yes, Kristen Marie included), and one Mrs. Barbara Howard. Those that are present on your social media aren’t aware of the weight that your last name now holds, having grown up just outside of Philly in the suburbs. So when you post images or updates on how your life is going, it doesn’t much matter, and Melissa doesn’t mind.

The second grade teacher has been relatively successful at keeping the personal and professional lives from mixing. That is going to change though, because Gracie is getting ready to head into kindergarten at none other than Willard R. Abbott Elementary School.

“Hun,” you sigh to your wife quietly as the two of you begin to grasp the fact that Grace is going to be attending your wife’s workplace.

“I just didn’t think it was going to be happening so soon,” Melissa mumbles. “I mean, it’s like she was born yesterday, and now she’s getting ready to enter kindergarten.”

“You’re telling me,” you chuckle. “I feel like we were hearing her heartbeat for the first time, and now we’re getting ready to send our baby to school.”

“Jesus, we’re gettin’ old.”

As it turns out, Grace is more than excited to be heading to school- she’s so excited to see the place where her mother works, and she can’t wait to be a big kid. And luck just so has it that your daughter is placed in her Aunt Barbie’s class.

“I get to be with Aunt Barbie all day?!” Grace squeals out with excitement when you tell her who her kindergarten teacher is.

You can’t help but chuckle at how precious she is. “You do, but at school she’s Mrs. Howard, yeah?”

Your little girl nods her head with enthusiasm. “When do I get to go?”

“School starts in two weeks, but Mommy goes in next week,” Melissa tells your little girl at the dinner table. “And on that Wednesday, they have a special night for kindergarteners to meet their teachers and get familiar with the school.”

“I can’t wait for school!”

“Oh, but I can,” your wife grumbles so that only you can hear her.

The day before Melissa goes back to Abbott for professional development days, she’s a bit more moody than usual. Because of this, your little girl spends most of the day with you. The redhead is stressed beyond belief trying to ensure that she has everything packed into her car to take to the school for the new year. She’s focusing on meal prepping so she can just grab things and go. Her outfit for whatever reason is stressing her out more than it usually would.

“Honey,” you mumble as she stands in your closet staring at all of her shirts. You wrap your arms around her waist and set your chin on her shoulder before kissing her neck gently. She hums as she leans into your affections.

“What has you so worked up tonight?” you prod gently. “Usually you don’t care what you wear to work.”

“I just… these are the last few days where my coworkers will see me as just Melissa, not Grace’s mother,” she admits. “Reminds me I’m gettin’ older.”

“We are getting older,” you remind her. “But that just means that we’re one step closer to retirement, to having a beautiful daughter to take care of us, more years of love under our belt.”

Your wife sighs softly and cranes her neck to look at you. “How do you always know what to say to help calm me down?”

“We’ve been married for years,” you chuckle. “Practice.”

The next morning, Grace cannot for the life of her understand why she doesn’t get to go with Melissa to her new school. She’s gotten herself dressed and ready, adorned with the backpack that is just about the size of her, and her new sparkly shoes.

“Mi amore,” your wife sighs as she kneels down to pull your daughter into a hug. “Mommy has to go do boring things at the school. Trust me when I tell you, you would rather stay with Momma and play at home for these last few days.”

“But I want you!” your little girl pouts. “I want Aunt Barbie!”

“And you’ll get me tonight,” Melissa tries to placate. “And I will talk to Aunt Barbie and see if she can come over today after work to play for a little bit, how does that sound?”

That seems to satisfy your daughter who comes bouncing over to you. She curls into your arms as your wife makes her way out the door.

At work, the redhead is happy to see her work wife, but she isn’t necessarily thrilled to be back at work for the school year.

“I saw Gracie’s name on my list for this year,” Barbara whispers to her friend when she’s certain no one else can hear.

“She’s real excited to have you as her kindergarten teacher,” Melissa chuckles softly. “She’s asking for you already. I told her I would see if you could come over after work today.”

“She’ll be sick of me by the end of this year,” the kindergarten teacher laughs.

Green eyes are rolled. “I doubt that. I’m fairly certain my kid loves you more than she loves me or Y/N.”

“You know your little girl has the most love for her mothers,” Barb smirks. “And then of course for Aunt Barbie. I’ll be there.”

“And I’m going to need every hand on deck for kindergarten orientation on Wednesday,” Ava announces. “This is the biggest class to come through Abbott since the 90s.”

“No can do,” Melissa states in front of everyone. “Have business I need to take care of, and it ain’t like you’re payin’ me.” She shoots her boss a look that dares her to challenge.

The principal quirks her lips to the side before rolling her eyes and sighing loudly. “Every hand on deck except for Red Hot.”

After the workday is done, the kindergarten and second grade teachers make their way back to your house. You and your little girl are sitting in the living room reading a book when you hear the front door open and close. All thoughts of the game are abandoned when Gracie jumps to her feet and goes to the door as fast as her little legs will take her. She launches herself at Melissa, who catches her with ease. Then she’s throwing herself at Barbara, who has just barely kneeled down to embrace her.

“How’s my baby girl?” Barbara asks as she kisses your daughter’s head.

Your little girl soaks up the attention. “Good! I want to go to school though.”

“Well, that comes next week, but I’m sure Mommy’s told you about how you’ll get to come see my classroom in a few days.” When Grace nods with excitement, Barbara continues. “And I know at home I’m Aunt Barbie, but at school I have to be Mrs. Howard. Think you can remember that for me, baby?”

“Pinky swears,” your daughter holds out her pinky with a grin.

“That’s my girl,” the kindergarten teacher smiles as she links pinkies with your little girl. “Now, what are we going to do today?”

Come Wednesday, after a long day of professional development in the morning and prepping for open house on Thursday, Melissa comes home to you and your excitable daughter.

“Mommy!” Grace goes running over to the front door, abandoning her station to help you prepare dinner.

“Mi amore,” your wife sighs happily as she lifts your daughter to her hip. “My beautiful girl.”

Grace giggles incessantly as the teacher pecks her cheeks continuously. Then your wife is making her way over to you.

“My gorgeous wife,” she whispers as she kisses you softly. “You’re the best.”

“I’m making your favorite,” you tell her quietly as you lean in to kiss her again.

Grace makes a face at your affections. “Ew, moms. Stop kissin’!”

The two of you roll your eyes in a playful manner. “You know I just love your momma so much,” Melissa laughs that low laugh that you find irresistible. She kisses you again.

“Are you ready to go see Aunt Barbie and your new school?” the redhead asks gently as she sets your daughter back down on the chair you have pulled up to the counter.

“Mrs. Howard,” Grace corrects with a toothy smile as she picks up the spoon to begin mixing the salad again.

Melissa rolls her eyes and pokes your daughter in the belly. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

After dinner, your family makes their way down to Abbott. Grace clings to your hand the entire time. At the thought of going to a new school, she was excited. But now that the time is upon her, she’s nervous.

“It’ll all be okay, Gracie girl,” Melissa promises. “You know Mommy wouldn’t work here or let you go here if it wasn’t a good place to be.”

That seems to settle your daughter’s nerves just slightly, but she still remains close to you.

You and Grace walk in and head right to the little check in, knowing immediately where to go. Barbara just smiles and checks off your daughter’s name before greeting your wife who is trailing a few paces behind.

“Melissa!” you hear the boisterous voice of the principal of the school. “You said you wasn’t coming!”

Your wife just rolls her eyes and shrugs. “What can I say?”

The incoming class of kindergarteners are ushered into the gym for a quick presentation of teachers that they might come across throughout the school year. Of course, Barbara is up on the stage with all of the kindergarten teachers, but so is your wife and the rest of her work crew, as well as some other staff members that she rarely mentions.

Once that’s over with, they begin to move the children down to the classrooms that they’ll be spending most of their time in for the year. Grace takes your hand gently and guides you towards the correct line.

Abbott is a special school, you can see that just by walking through the halls. It’s filled with artwork from students, there are several plaques with various award titles on them, the teachers who are helping to guide students around are warm. Aside from the odd lingering smell, you can understand why Melissa works here and has worked here for years. 

Your wife lingers in the room under the guise of just helping out her work wife- it makes sense to the rest of the staff that she would go with Barbara. Grace finds her desk with ease, knowing all of the letters in her name. She squeals with happiness when she sees the few little goodies that Mrs. Howard left on the students’ desks.

“Momma,” your little girl tugs on your shirt. “Sit with me?”

You oblige her request with a smile, settling in her chair before pulling her on top of you. Grace brightens and gives your wife a thumbs up before beginning to color the princess page Barbara had placed there. You can’t help but press a soft kiss to your girl’s temple before looking up at your wife with a smile. She’s absolutely precious. Melissa tries to hide the fact that she was sneaking a picture of the two of you, but it’s no use. Her cheeks tint just slightly red before shrugging her shoulders with a bashful smile.

The rest of your daughter’s class settles in and is allowed to color for a few moments while Barbara and Melissa chat with parents- no doubt answering questions that will surely be answered within the next few minutes.

Your wife’s boss makes her way into the classroom, and she eyes the redhead warily before teasing her. “I shoulda known you’d find your way into Barb’s classroom.”

“Well, she is-”

“I don’ care,” Ava states. She turns to scan the room, and her eyes immediately land on you. She winks.

You have to fight to roll your eyes. It’s funny that she chose you to focus in on, but it will be even funnier when she realizes that she just hit on her shadiest teacher’s wife.

Before the principal can say anything too out of line, Barbara claps her hands together and begins her spiel about herself as a teacher, the classroom that the students will be in, and the school itself.

Grace seems more than content to sit in your lap and color quietly while Melissa nods along to the things that her work wife is saying. She knows it all already, but it’s nice hearing what will be expected of your little girl while she’s in Barb’s classroom.

“And now, while the parents are filling out the paperwork necessary for the beginning of the school year, I figured I might take the students on a walking tour of the areas in the school that they’ll be in,” the kindergarten teacher explains with a clap of her hands. “So, we’re going to practice lining up and walking in the hallways like big kindergarteners.”

She manages to line up the entire class quietly before walking them out the door with Melissa. You sigh and begin to quietly fill out the paperwork for your little girl. It’s a while before you hear footsteps come back into the room, just as you’re getting ready to write down Melissa’s name under the second guardian spot. When you look up, you expect to see Barbara, your wife, and the students in tow. Instead, it’s Ava again, and she’s looking directly at you- you can practically feel her eyes on you.

“Does anybody have any questions about Abbott?” the principal asks.

A few hands go up, but she blatantly ignores them. She points to you. “What about you, angel face?”

Your brow goes up. “I think I’m all good, but thank you.”

“Surely you can’t know everything there is to know about this school,” Ava frowns. “You have to have at least one question.”

“Not that I can think of,” you tell her. If you do think of a question, you doubt she’ll know the answer to it anyway.

“Is that little girl of yours your first one to go through Abbott?”

You nod. “But I know all about this school.”

“Oh?” Ava smirks. “You did your research?”

Instead of telling her that your wife is Melissa, you just nod. Sure, you had done your research and asked your wife about the building, but you know the ins and outs of this school- the things that go on behind the scenes. 

You think that’s the end of the conversation and start to write “Mrs.”, but she makes her way further into the room, and she stands over you sitting at a student desk.

“Where’s the wife?” Ava asks you as she leans against the desk. She drapes a gentle hand over your wrist. “Because I know someone as fine as you has one.”

You look up to her with a smirk before beginning to write down Melissa’s name.

Almost comically, the principal gasps and her hands fly to her mouth. She stands straight up. “You ain’t telling me Melissa is your wife, are you?!”

With impeccable timing, Melissa walks back into the classroom with Barbara and the kindergarteners. 

“I am,” is all your wife states as she folds her arms over her chest and stares down her boss. “Why? You got something to-”

“Bye, y’all,” Ava runs out of the classroom as quickly as she had come in.

Barbara just looks to you with the silent question of if the principal was flirting with you, and you nod subtly.

Your wife sees red for a split second before she makes her way over to you with your daughter and wraps her arm around the top of your shoulders.

“Idiot,” Melissa grumbles as she plants a kiss to the top of your head. “Flirting with my wife like that.”

You reach up a hand and lay yours gently over hers. “She didn’t know because you didn’t tell her.”

“‘Cause she has no business knowin’ about my personal life,” your wife mutters.

“She will now,” you remind her. “Grace is goin’ here now, and you know that Ava’s gonna open her mouth about it the first chance she gets.”

“Which will be once everyone is out of the school, and we somehow get corralled into helping break everything,” Melissa rolls her eyes.

It’s a bit of time before Ava makes the announcement that all families should head out of the building to allow the teachers to get home for the night. But when you think that Melissa is going to try to book it out of there as quickly as possible, she begins to help her work wife straighten up her classroom.

You know that the two of them are quite close, but it is something else to see them working together in silence. It’s like how you and Melissa work- in sync, with ease, naturally.

And then the rest of the group begins to come in, asking questions before they even fully enter the room to see you and your little girl sitting quietly on the carpet reading a book together. Okay, you’re reading, but Grace is touching each word as you read.

You pause your reading as the boisterous group comes in. Their eyes immediately go to you, and they halt their questioning.

“I’m sorry,” a shorter woman, who you can only assume is Janine, speaks quietly. “I didn’t realize you still had a student in the room.”

“They’re fine,” Melissa cuts in before anyone else can say anything. “They’re with me.”

Gregory furrows his brow. “Why would they-”

“Melissa Schemmenti, when the hell was you goin’ to tell us you have a daughter that was going to come to Abbott?!” the principal yells as she struts in. “And that your wife was fine as-” She cuts herself off at the challenging look green eyes give her.

“They’re with me because that’s my wife and my daughter,” the redhead points to the two of you. “Gracie, come say hi to Mommy’s friends.”

Your little girl jumps out of your lap and runs over to your wife, who lifts her onto her hip with ease. “I’m Gracie, and I’m five!” she holds out an entire hand for emphasis. Her smile is enough to melt their hearts.

“Oh, Mel Mel, she’s so cute,” Jacob grins as he high fives your daughter.

“Mi amore,” Melissa jerks her head for you to come over.

“Y/N,” you smile that charming smile of yours as you wrap an arm around the Melissa. “Mrs. Schemmenti, if you will.”

“How the hell didn’t we know about this now?” Mr. Johnson wrinkles his nose. “That’s a load of bull… trash.”

Emerald eyes are rolled. “Because the boss don’t look at the rosters to know who’s comin’ in.”

“I did!”

“Did you?” Janine narrows her eyes as she looks to the principal. 

Ava looks offended. “So what if I did or did not? Overseeing an entire school is hard! It ain’t my fault Melissa never told us she had a daughter!”

“You didn’t tell them about me?” Grace frowns, and she looks a bit wounded by that knowledge.

“Mommy just wanted you all to herself,” your wife promises as she dots a few kisses along your daughter’s hairline.

That seems to placate your daughter, who snuggles right back up to the redhead before yawning. “Aunt Barbie is my teacher.”

“She is,” you chuckle as you smooth down a few of her wild locks. “But at school she’s Mrs. Howard, remember?”

“Mrs. Howard is my teacher,” your little girl yawns out.

“I think it’s about time we head home,” Melissa chuckles softly. She looks to you. “Are you about ready t’head out?”

You nod and grab your purse from where Grace will be sitting next Monday. “Well, it was really nice to finally meet you all,” you chuckle out. “I know she’s in good hands here at Abbott.”

The group seems to have more questions for the redhead that is quickly escorting you out, but she ignores them and ushers you out.

Just as you’re leaving, Ava shouts down the hallway, “Girl, don’t think we ain’t talkin’ ‘bout how youse are milfs tomorrow!”

There’s a loud chorus of “Ava!” that can be heard right after. You have to hide the smile. You’re already well aware that your wife is hot.

“Momma?” Grace looks to you with curious eyes.

“Yeah baby?” you ask.

“What’s a milf?”

“Ava is dead tomorrow,” your wife grumbles.

“You love your boss, and your coworkers,” you remind her.

Melissa sighs heavily. “They’re freakin’ lucky.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead

[acowardinmordor]

I only had Steve repeating his senior year because I wanted the kids to know Eddie already, but thinking about it? This messes Steve up so so much more. He obviously met Robin, who asked a few pointed questions that made him go oh. about his life and his identity.

He’s back for another year in high school because of post concussion symptoms. His parents are probably pissed. He’s trying to rebuild his own sense of self without defining it with popularity, but he’s stuck in the place where he was the most popular before. And is now one of those loser super seniors.

Enter Eddie, who had been on Steve’s radar as a vague awareness of maybe-attraction in previous years. And the guy is protecting his kids. Encouraging them. He’s also as close to Out as he can be in Hawkins. He knows who he is. He’s unapologetic and doesn’t let trends define him. He’s who he wants to be. Of course there’s hearteyes.

But Steve isn’t comfortable with himself enough to talk to him directly. Hence the letters.

And maybe at first he wasn’t even sure that Eddie liked getting them. Or was even reading them. Probably wrote about how he was anonymous because he didn’t think Eddie would actually like him if he knew. It’s been a theme from the start, and it was probably the first thing that Eddie talked about when he could finally write back.

Eddie totally said that anyone who wrote letters like that, who was that kind and clever and generous and funny, would always be someone Eddie liked. Loved. That it wouldn’t matter if X was ugly, that it wouldn’t even matter if X was a girl. That Eddie would still want to know them.

And that’s when you have those insults. When Steve was finally finally brave enough to be around Eddie. To come to Hellfire. Because Eddie had promised in the letters to teach X how to play, that he’d be so so patient because X told him that he probably wasn’t smart enough to play.

Eddie has to betray everything he’s said.

And it is specifically because Steve Harrington is anathema to Eddie.

Proof that who Steve wants to be, tries to be, is wanted, but who he is in real life, not on paper, isn’t good enough.

(Yes, Robin had to be hugged into submission to keep her from slashing Eddie’s tires)

But, tag writer whose user name I can’t recall, Steve didn’t write his last letter in the car. He dropped off the boys, went home, and wrote something longer at first. He tried to find a way to explain to Eddie that he’s trying. That he wants to be a better person who Eddie would be happy to discover is X. He writes it, and he doesn’t believe that it will ever happen. That he can ever be better.

Anyway, Steve totally gets Vecna’d in this AU, and Eddie is one of the focal points.

[gothsoyl]

vampire!rio vidal x reader

✧. ┊ rio has been a vampire for hundreds of years, if not thousands. she has seen nations rise to the top and burn down in search of their own greatness. she has seen the deaths of billions of people, with the blood of millions on her hands. she stopped being surprised by anything, but... then you appeared.

✧. ┊ initially, rio didn't think too much – you were just another victim, just a piece of meat for her. she killed so many young girls that she stopped feeling anything, but there was something strange about you. probably your desire to serve.

✧. ┊ you joined the rio’s household as a maid – her palace was huge, but it was so empty and cold that you felt uneasy at first, and memories of all the horrors that people told in the streets, when it came to the vidal estate, began to pop up in your head.

✧. ┊ you needed money and a roof over your head, so you weren't picky. the manor was gloomy, except for the fireplace in the living room, and the furniture was covered with dust. of the inhabitants of the house, there were only two old women, servants, and an equally old watchman.

✧. ┊ you saw the owner of the estate, rio vidal herself, only after a week of your stay here. she was pale and tired – it seemed a little more and she would collapse from dehydration. you immediately approached her with a desire to help, but instead she pinned you against the wall and clung to your neck with sharp fangs. you wanted to scream, and tears immediately sprang from your eyes, but not a single sound left your lips. you froze, and then completely lost consciousness.

✧. ┊ you woke up in the living room. head was buzzing and body was in pain. you couldn't really move your neck, but you noticed her right away – lady vidal was sitting in a chair opposite you, lazily turning the pages of a book. she no longer looked so painfully pale, and there was a sly smile on her lips.

✧. ┊ “you don't have to get up – I'm going to have a second dinner now,” her voice sounds like honey and you don’t argue. just lay there and stare at her as if fascinated. she's threatening to kill you, so why not try to escape?

“do you rarely eat?” you don't know why you asked, but you've clearly attracted attention to yourself. lady vidal immediately looks at you, and her eyebrows knitted, “I can help.”

“why do I need your help, child?” a logical question. the woman slowly gets up from her chair and takes a few steps towards you, stopping only in front of the sofa on which you’re lying.

“you’re starving. give me a day and I'll find food for you,” your voice sounds even quieter than before, and your neck hurts unpleasantly from any sound.

“and what do you want in return?” bingo. lady vidal is interested, or is having a dialogue with her dinner out of boredom.

“a place to stay”

✧. ┊ you kept your promise – once every couple of days you started bringing a human to the estate, listened for ten minutes as they kicked under the onslaught of rio and entered the room to clean up the mess. you helped kill people, so why didn't it bother you in any way?

✧. ┊ but it also happened that rio invited you to her place, and you didn't hesitate – you gave her a taste of your blood. it still hurt, but rio found a way out. her hands slide over your bare body, her lips press against your neck, and soft moans escape from your mouth. her fingers persistently stroke your crotch before entering inside, pushing the warm walls apart with a squishing sound. and only when your breath catches from the sensations of her finger, which moves so rhythmically inside, she bites your neck. your back arches and you hug her, scratching her back and exposing her neck even more. she growls back, burying her fingers deeper.

✦✧✦✧ it's worth helping with the murders for that ✦✧✦✧

[leclarifies]

THE NUMBER YOU HAVE DIALED IS CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE (LN4)

✰ lando norris x ex!reader ✰

summary → in which lando keeps dialing your number even after you've changed it.

genre → angst (im not sorry)

word count → 2.1k

author's note → remember how i broke ur hearts with carlos sainz angst for my first fic about him? YEAH HERE'S THE LANDO VERSION!!!!!!!! i know yall love it either way so, enjoy reading! very short btw, i just wanted to put something out for today

"where did we go wrong? i know we started out all right. where did we go wrong? i swear i knew we'd last this time." - lany, "13"

it takes three rings.

then he hears that stupid automated voice again, "the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected, please try—"

"for fuck's sake."

after he ends the attempted call, the furious typing is apparent in the empty, dark room. the artificial keyboard clicking fills the room as he tries his best to reach her. it's futile really, with every text he sends, the more agitated he becomes.

he knew that he shouldn't do this, that she was probably trying her best to move on, but he couldn't. he couldn't let her slip away from his grasp so easily.

"i just want you here for my races, is that so hard to ask for?" lando sounded desperate, he was desperate. he was a guy who needed his girlfriend and it didn't help that his girlfriend couldn't be there with him when he needed it the most, especially at times like these.

she was tired, he could tell, he didn't want to turn this into an argument but he was going to base it off of how she was going to respond, "lando, i can't. you know this. i have family here that i need to support, i can't just quit—"

"i'm not asking you to quit, i'm asking you to come just when you can," lando ruffled his hair so hard that it hurt, "the races are on weekends— for fuck's sake! why can't you just listen to me and actually hear what i'm saying?"

"i am listening! you're not listening to me!" she had tears in her eyes now, he hated it. he hated when he got riled up like this. it wasn't her fault, he knew it but he wanted her around him at least every few races, he hadn't been able to see her on the paddock at all this year and it pained him.

an exasperated sigh leaves his lips and he tries calling again, he knows she's not gonna pick up. he knows that he's probably blocked everywhere, but he wants to try. he wants to talk. he just wanted to fix things.

"the number you have dialed is—"

the next thing he heard was his phone shattering against the wall after he threw it across the room.

it was only two days later when he got a new phone and tried again, it wasn't going to go through. he knew it, but he just wanted to try. he wanted to show her that he was willing to make a compromise with her, just to make sure that she was there for him.

he didn't understand why he raised his voice so easily when it came to her, maybe because emotions ran high and he didn't know what else to do to express himself. he didn't know. all he knew was that he was a selfish prick and he deserved all of this.

he tried again.

"the number you have dialed is cu—"

he wanted to smash that brand new phone into the wall like its predecessor but he held himself back, he knew that the money that was needed to buy him a new phone was priceless to him, he was a formula one driver. it was pennies to him. all that money and he couldn't keep the most priceless thing to him, her.

he didn't care how selfish it sounded, or how convoluted their issues were. he just wanted her here, to hug, to kiss, to just comfort him. he had so many things on his mind right now and it could've been solved just by a simple touch and kiss to the forehead.

he was losing his mind and he knew it.

something akin to a sob bubbles from his throat when he hears the automated voice again.

"the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected, please try again later."

he fucked up, he knows now. she didn't have to rub it in his face like this, by changing her number and disappearing off of the face of the earth.

he just wanted to be home.

gentle knocking wakes her up from her slumber, it's unusual to get guests at this hour and on top of that, she wasn't expecting anyone. a huff escapes her lips as she gently takes the covers off of her and sits up on the bed. the knocks become more persistent as she begrudgingly gets up from her comfortable bed.

at first, she contemplates whether she should open the door or not but she opens it against her better judgement, her eyes widening when she realizes who it was.

"lando, what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be in aus—"

she gets engulfed in a hug before she could even utter another word.

inhaling her scent after so long had been a breath of a fresh air for lando, he missed her. she's confused on how lando even knows where she lived. she had moved out of her last flat to avoid him on purpose, and now he's here, when he's supposed to be all the way in australia getting ready for a race.

his hug wasn't reciprocated, unfortunately for him.

"lando—" she was cut off by her ex standing in front of her, his eyes were glassy, puffy, like he had been crying all the way from australia to here.

"i just wanted to see you, that's all."

"we broke up two months ago, you can't just show up in front of my flat like this."

"i know but—"

"there aren't any buts lando, didn't me changing my number make it clear to you?" she folded her arms in front of her chest, her hair was still a mess from sleep and she was in pajamas, but her eyes were nowhere near his, not wanting to have any type of eye contact.

lando could only look down on the ground in embarrassment, he knew it was wrong. he knew he shouldn't have asked her friends where she lived, all of them had turned down his questions, telling him that she wanted nothing to do with him anymore but it wasn't anything a little persistence couldn't solve.

"is that all? you have a race to catch," she didn't even give him the chance to speak before trying to close the door on his face, but he blocked it with his foot, he wanted to talk. to fix things. he knew that things were irreparable but he wanted to try.

lando pushes the door open, despite her insistence of not letting him in, "i want to fix things, love—"

"there's nothing to fix lando, we're done. we've been done. what part of done do you not understand?" she was on the verge of tears, she didn't want to end it with lando, no, not at all but she felt that it was best for the both of them, she couldn't provide him with what he needed and he couldn't with her either, so it was best to just separate because why be in a relationship when you don't feel the love?

her eyes were still on the floor, not even daring to look up at lando's. it hurt for her too of course, just throwing away their year-long relationship out the window when the beginning of their relationship was so lovely, but now all there was is resentment and she didn't want that in her relationship.

lando couldn't utter anything out his mouth, he was stuck in place by her words. he let himself in earlier after he pushed the door open, he gently closed the door behind him before sighing, "we didn't even talk about it, you just decided for yourself that you didn't want to be apart of this anymore, you didn't even wait until my race ended before i could respond. how can i let it go?"

she swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked out the window, still refusing to look at lando, because she knew that if she did, she would start crying, "you just do lando. sometimes break-ups aren't always mutual, sometimes it's one person who doesn't want to be in a relationship anymore. it takes two to tango."

lando tousled with his hair, what could he say to that? she wasn't wrong. she couldn't deny the hurt and sadness that was in his green eyes, she hated that she made him feel that way but they were nothing. they've been broken up. by definition, they didn't have anything to do with eachother anymore, but she still had that care inside of her heart for him. after all, it had only been two months.

"just hear me out, and by the end of tonight, if you don't want to see me anymore, i'm gone. i won't try to contact you anymore," lando gave an ultimatum and she was fine with that, because she knew well that whatever he said, she would still say no.

she sat down on her couch, patting the space next to her to at least give him some sort of hospitality, wanting to hear him out even though she was steadfast in her decision.

"i won't bug you to come to my races anymore, i'll even help you with helping your family—"

"you can't throw money at this problem, lando."

"i'm not throwing money at it, i'm just saying that it's an option and you can take it if you feel like you need it," lando's voice was always pleading— begging for her to hear him out. he wasn't that type of guy, never. all of his exes got the same type of treatment, if they said that they were done, then lando wouldn't even bother.

he was a formula one driver, he didn't have the time.

but for her, he did.

she looks up, her arms still folded in front of her chest, legs curled up beneath her as she tries to find a comfortable position in an uncomfortable situation. glancing at the clock on the coffee table, it read in bright red neon numbers that it at 4:27 am, far too early or late for him to be here.

"we've had a similar conversation before, and i refused. so i'm refusing again," she sighs before meeting lando's eyes for the second time tonight, "i don't understand why you would want to keep this relationship. it doesn't benefit you for dating a poor girl."

"do you really think i care about your financial status?" lando asked, almost if it the thought of him caring about his (ex)girlfriend's financial status was ridiculous. he didn't care, it's the way she made him feel for the entirety of last year. she made him feel whole, like even if the world was against him, she would still be there.

she was used to men coming into her life who could think that they could "save" her and lando was no different to all of those other men. sure, she was definitely struggling trying to pay for her younger siblings education while working and pursuing her degree at the same time but that doesn't mean she was a damsel in distress and she expressed that to lando.

lando closed his eyes in frustration, "no, i didn't mean it like that—"

"well you sure as hell worded it like that," she looks away from him yet again, refusing to meet his eyes again until he had to leave. her eyes were glued to the window that overlooked the city, it was beautiful, calming— peaceful even, "i'm not changing my mind lando, we're worlds apart. i don't need you helping me, i can take care of myself."

with that, lando bit his lip and she ushers him out of her flat.

it had been months since lando's seen her, but he never forgot. he couldn't. the way she smelt, the way she laughed, everything still stuck in his brain as he continued his career.

the world didn't revolve around him, so the show must go on.

calling her old number had also become routine, almost an obsession. every finish, every weekend, anything that had to do with his career, lando would try and call her and tell her how his races were going, as if he wasn't talking to an automated robot on the other end of the line. the automated voice was practically his best friend because he's heard the damn voice so many times.

"the number you have dialed is currently unavailable or disconnected. please try again later."

and try again later he would.

he didn't understand himself, was it an obsession or was it the comfort that it gave him when he dialed her number? he didn't know. but sometimes he would hold up that phone to his ear and talk as if she was on the other end of the line, even though lando knew that there was no one waiting on the other line for him, not anymore.

but, the show must go on, right?

[space-blue]

I didn't get the impression that the inventions by Heimer were the cause of the reconciliation.

I'll need to rewatch, but he's been there for 1000 days, which is 2.7 years. I don't think what we're seeing is 2.7 years of progress and freedom of Zaun.

It's possible... But I much prefer the idea that Marcus walks in on a dead child (Vi) and Jayce is either dead too, or is exiled for his dangerous inventions.

Heimer in that world probably didn't reach out to him in jail, since there was loss of life and it was a clear cut case.

I feel like it's the perfect moment for Piltover to have a reality check, while Silco and Vander reconcile (most likely as Silco knew Vi or at least her mom, he may have reached out to Vander first.)

Unrushed now by the Piltover attacks in Zaun, shimmer isn't hurried out. Silco and Vander talk it out, and through Grayson they have a voice that can reach the council.

I feel like the 5 to 8 years we're seeing since season 1 episode 1 are a good time for Piltover to come to flourish and become independent. It's never clarified though, so who knows.

I think the wounds being different is also perhaps an issue of Singed? We don't know what he did to Silco, if he went to him after the Vander fight. Perhaps they fought, but simply not in polluted waters (so Vander covers the stab wound with his tattoos and Silco's scars healed normally).

But overall we can just assume a few other things are different besides Vi's death.

I already wrote a reconciliation AU that may as well be canon, so if you haven't read it and are curious, it's here. It got fanart, but only smutty stuff, none of the Silco and Powder interactions.

It is giving me brain bunnies, but it's not helpful that I feel like the show isn't inventing anything I haven't already written or read many times over.

This happened

[reddbuster]

I forget who made it but I saw a post the other day talking about how a lot of trans women come out much later in life than trans men tend to (and hence why “egg culture” tends to be mostly centred around transfemininity) and it really made me reflect on my experiences with queer spaces and how things have visibly changed as I got older. I’ve been pretty heavily involved in queer and especially trans spaces, both in-person and online, since I was a preteen. While spaces and events for people my age were much more sparse (and harder to attend while closeted) as a kid, they did exist. But one thing that always stuck out to me was the complete absence of trans girls even at events mainly aimed at trans youth. I met a good few other trans and gnc kids at these events, but all, literally every single one of these people were perisex and assigned female at birth. Not a single transfeminine person to be found. This changed as I got older. I started high school. Slowly but surely the circles I hung around in became more diverse. I met trans women. I met and befriended gay and gnc “boys” who would later come out as trans girls. Now, as a young adult, the ratio of transmasculine to transfeminine folks in my life is near equal. But even now, the demographic of trans girls in my life generally skews older than the guys. And of course this trend is very reflective of the effects of transmisogyny in general, how the media targets trans women as the scapegoat for their hatred, painting ‘trans girl’ as a shameful and deviant thing to be. It is reflective, more than anything, of how we all need to be more steadfast in our support of trans women both in our activism and in our day-to-day lives. But I also think that everyone needs to make more of an effort specifically to support young trans girls. Transfeminine kids, teenagers, even young adults. Because I have met so many women that I know for a fact would have enjoyed their teenage years so much more if someone, anyone had been there to tell them when they were young that it was alright to be trans. The first friend I ever lost to suicide as a teenager was a trans girl. And I live every day of my life with the knowledge that if I hadn’t been her one and only source of support, she probably still would have been here today. Believe me when I say that I understand the importance of respecting people’s boundaries. I do think that insisting every gnc person must be trans is a bad and counterproductive thing to do. But I’ve also seen firsthand what happens when trans girlhood is treated like it’s a downgrade, it’s very suggestion a taboo. When nobody is willing to be the one to say “hey, it’s okay if you want to be a girl”. I believe with everything I am that the life and happiness of a single trans girl is more than worth the discomfort of a million cis men. And if you disagree with that sentiment I think you either need to fix your heart, or you need to make peace with the fact that you are a thoroughly vile person and endeavour to shut your mouth about transgender issues forever.

[theformulaimagines]

Look at that woman (breaking my heart) | part 10

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Vettel!Reader

Summary: For one and a half years Lewis and y/n managed to keep their relationship a secret, until it blew up in their faces. Now, they're trying their hardest to pick up the pieces...

Warnings: angst but fluff at the end

masterlist

h44_milton has made a tik tok

(song used: i love you so by the walters)

916,333 likes and 19,514,826 replays

noella44: gang wake up it is time to suffer :(( they’re apparently on a break- so we won’t get any more cute interactions … #y/nandlewis

view all comments…

user 1: this is tragic on so many levels

user 2: i feel like if they hadn’t been exposed they would’ve been endgame

user 3: @/user2 ikr!! seemed really genuine

user 4: DEVASTATED

keena_044 has made a tik tok

(song used: futile devices by sufjan stevens)

87,018 likes and 614,927 replays

keena: „i think of you as my brother although that seems dumb“ #y/nandlewis

view all comments…

user 1: casually cried before work

user 2: now why would you do this to me???

user 3: woah

user 4: it’s been a MONTH AND WE HAVE NO STATEMENT WHATSOEVER YET

user 5: we saw the rise and fall of them in real time i can’t do this

She hears how the door to the balcony opens again. “I told you, I‘m not hungry.“

“Hey.”

At the sound of the more than familiar voice, Y/N instantly turns her head. Her eyes widen while she merely stares. The way he’s awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other while his eyes are becoming shiny. Her left hand flies up to cover her mouth, before she quickly stands up to rush over to him. However, nothing could stifle the guttural sob that escapes her lips the moment his arms wrapped around her to pull her close.

“Hey, hey.”, Lewis whispers, while holding back tears himself:” It’s- it’s okay.” They stay like that for a few minutes before Y/N ultimately pulls back. Her eyes are roaming over his features as if he’s worried she’ll going to forget them. His thumb wipes away the tears.

“Oh my God? Lewis, what are you doing here?“, she asks, a teary chuckle leaving her. He can’t help but echo her, his much larger hand cupping her face:“ I just had to see you. I was at home with my parents and we just- they both kept on talking about this whole thing. And I know they meant well, but the only one I want to talk to about this is you.“

“But what about our managers? They both-.“ “Well, fuck them.”, Lewis cuts her off, leaving her gazing at him with an open mouth. He playfully rolls his teary eyes before cracking a smile:” What do they know? Right?”

Y/N smiles softly at him, something inside of her is waking up again. She nods:” Yeah. What do they know?”

Inside Sebastian is standing next to Hanna with his arms crossed:” Still can’t believe it.” It makes his wife laugh, while she lays her head on his shoulder.” Lewis is a good guy, one of the best. I say it’s a match.” It makes him scoff:” I’m still concerned about the media. When they’re back on the track they’ll be treated like prey. I just know it.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”, She sighs:” But they have one another, that’s probably going to be enough.”

[sunnybunnyy2]

My Ex-boyfriends New Girl

prologue

chapter summary: the events that force your hand in your revenge scheme come to light as you find out the man who you have loved for the past three years isn't the man you needed him to be. 

word count: 4.1k

pairings: Rafe Cameron x ex!fem!reader, Sofia x fem!reader

warnings: angst, cheating, toxic relationship, asshole Rafe, swearing, not much Sofia :/ and probably bad writing.

authors note: hi!! This is the prologue to my new Sofia fic series. Tumblr has not been doing my girl justice so I decided to take matters into my own hands and write for her. I deeply apologize for any typos or any mistakes (mostly if I confuse second person and third because I am not used to writing in second). Please reach out of you want to be added to the taglist!!

series masterlist next chapter

"Wow...I can't believe you did all of this..." you said as you admired the beautifully set table in front of you. It was littered with plucked red roses and lit-up orange candles. It was perfect- well at least nearly perfect. As much as you appreciated the gesture, you couldn't help but be saddened that the only flower on the table was the one you couldn't stand. 

You felt as though they were overused and cliche, but it wasn't necessarily the flowers that downed your mood but the mere fact that you had told him countless times how much you loathed them and yet, once again he had stuffed them in your face.

It was as though he never heard a single word that came out of your mouth. It was okay, you supposed as at least he put the effort in, in the first place. 

"Of course, I would, baby. It's our three year, I would be stupid if I didn't." Rafe stated with a small smile, that was all he was willing to offer after the events of his father's death. You could tell it was weighing him down but you couldn't do more than you already were. 

You were skipping your classes, sleeping over every night, had arranged the funeral with him and been by his side every step of the way. You were exhausted but you knew he was going through the worst time of his life and was going through worse than you. That's what you kept telling yourself, that he needed comfort more than you did. That had calmed you down for the time being but it had been months and you knew that you were gonna snap one day soon, leading you to truly hope that it was when Rafe was in a good headspace but with the way life was going, you didn't know when that would be. 

"Well, the stupid part is kind of debatable." You shrugged as you stabbed a piece of carrot with your fork. 

"Hey!" Rafe laughed softly as he kicked your leg under the table, his hand reaching for his glass of scotch. 

"I mean it though... thank you for doing all of this."

You said as you looked at him, your eyes full of love for the man you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with. He simply nods as he pours himself another drink, but you can tell from the light coat of pink on his cheeks that he is blushing. "I love you." You finished as you reached your hand over to hold the one that had a grasp on the bottle while he was still pouring a flood of alcohol into his glass. The action stopped him in his tracks as you lowered his hand and he let go of the half-full bottle. 

"I love you too, baby." He muttered the phrase as he looked into your eyes causing yours to water as you pulled away to fix the napkin on your lap and then began to eat the slightly burnt food your boyfriend had prepared.

-Six days later- 

From: Sister-in-law✨

Hey

Sent 4:34 pm

It's Sarah. I changed my number a few weeks ago I'm not sure if you have it or not.

Sent 4:34 pm

I just wanted to let you know that I broke into Tannyhill like an hour ago to get a few of my things and heard a girl in Rafe's room. 

Sent 4:36 pm

It didn't sound like you and if I'm wrong then I'm sorry but I don't think I am. 

Sent 4:37 pm

You stared at the messages in front of you as your eyes continued to read over them just like they had for the last five minutes. You couldn't seem to tear them away. 

You had known Sarah for the last three years, even before she went all pogue and left the only life she had ever known. And though you were confused about why she did at first- when Ward's toxic actions had come to light, you had driven your overly priced car over to the shack John B called home and simply hugged the girl. She had cried in your arms because she knew that even though you loved her brother, you had believed her and loved her too. 

Even when you had sat on the kook side of the courthouse the day John B was arrested, your sympathetic gaze was enough to let her know that you weren't sure what to do and chose to stick by the only life you had ever known, and she couldn't fault you for that. She would have done the same if it was just another Pogue, but it wasn't. It was the man she loved and she knew that you loved Rafe and needed to do what was right for your relationship.

You had called her later that night to give her any information that you might have known about what Rafe and Ward were planning which ultimately led to John B getting out... she would never forget what you did. 

You were her sister more than Rafe was her brother and that wasn't going to change just because you were doing what it took to keep the man you loved safe, just like she was. 

A tear dropped from your eye and landed on the blue messages causing some of the words to blur as you hastily pulled yourself out of your bedroom and ran to your car.

You couldn't even remember the ride over as you hurried up the stairs of Tannyhill. You did know one thing though, Sarah wouldn't have lied to you and even when you hoped Rafe hadn’t lied to you earlier that morning when he assured you that you could head back to your family home- It made sense to you. He sent you home so he could finally get alone time with his side piece. 

You whipped his door open and simply nodded to yourself when your boyfriend quickly pulled away from the blue-eyed redhead to meet your eyes before quickly rolling off the bed and pulling on his shorts when he finally processed who was standing in the doorway. You ran down the stairs of the biggest home on the island and the place that you had called your second home for the last three years.

You could hear the sound of the girl calling for him and the sound of him practically flying down the stairs behind you in hopes of catching you before you made it to your car and the probability of you running him over became more likely than you hearing him out.

He was faster than you thought as his large hand wrapped around your forearm, stopping you in your tracks. You whip around with your hand raised as you prepare to smack him across the face but he catches your arm with his other hand before he harshly shoves you backward. Tears run down your cheeks as you head down his too-long driveway and it certainly doesn't help that you decided to park right at the gate and run to his home. 

"Baby, just stop-" He started his voice thick as he ran after you, but he was cut off before he could speak further.

"Don't call me that! You can't just baby me and I'll somehow find it in myself to forgive you. It's not happening. Have a nice life with Merida." You shot back, your tone quickly turned from heartbroken to mocking as the second stage of grief took over.

"Look... after my dad, I just..." He bowed his head after he had finally found an excuse you may actually fall for as all the kind actions you had done for him after his father died flashed through his mind, a chill ran through him as guilt began to run through him as the extent of his choices had begun to settle in. He chose getting in the pants of a random girl over his girlfriend who had stood by him after all the bad he had done. A part of him hoped that you would do that this time- bend your morals to keep him by your side. 

"Jesus Christ! Don't you dare use his death as an excuse!" You shutter out a breath as you refuse to fall for his guilt-tripping. You knew that you act crazy when experiencing grief, you had experienced it yourself when you had lost your mother a few years back. You went through the stages of grief alone as your father travelled in hopes of returning and being a better father to you but instead of him becoming a better father, his running off completely ruined your relationship. You were all alone for months with no one by your side, until you met Rafe six months after the death of your mother. And though he didn't help you through it directly, his presence had filled some of the hole in your heart and had given you something else to focus on. 

You had been through the loss of your mother who died of stomach cancer, the loss of your cousin who was murdered and the loss of your younger sister who had perished in a car accident when you were twelve. You had known more about loss than anyone you had been close with and knew firsthand how grief could affect you- especially when you lose a parent- but Rafe had, had your support and love through it all. You had been by his side through it all even though he and his dad weren't close, even though your boyfriend had hired a hitman on his own father only to cheat on his girlfriend and blame it on his father when he had been dead for four and a half months. 

"Look," You continued as you brought your weakened arms up to your hips as you scrutinized him dead in his eye. "I'm sorry about your dad. I really am- but newsflash the guys dead! And he has been for months- and for months, I've been bending over backwards to help you get through it just for you... to prove to me that I made a mistake. That I wasted not just months of my life helping you but years of my life loving you." You saw the range of emotions that flashed over his face as he attempted to process your words. It started with tears at the mention of his father, but his sadness flashed to anger as you began to mention all you had done for him and looked as though he was about to interrupt you but you just kept going, until it flashed to something darker.

"I told you when we started out that I had three deal breakers. Disrespect of any kind, lying and cheating- and so far you've managed to cross them all off, didn't you? Should I start yelling bingo?" You let out an angry laugh that resembles a heartbroken one as you turn around and head to your car.

"If you take one more step, I will make sure you regret it." His words came out like they were natural like you were one of the people he despised most. As if you hadn’t been the most important person to him for the last three years. It was jarring how different his voice was when he wasn’t telling you he loved you. 

You stop in your tracks as a chill runs down your spine, there is something in his tone... an edge it has that sends a warning through you. You know what he's done and what he's capable of. And as much as it hurt you to think this, you could count every time he had ever scared on one hand but right now, this wasn't just fear creeping through you- it was terror. 

He didn't have anything to lose anymore. His mother had been gone since he was thirteen, Sarah had chosen her true family over her blood family, Rose had taken Wheezie just days after Ward's body was found and had run for the hills without even taking a second thought about the grief her stepchildren were going through while holding on to the remaining gold and lastly, the one person he loved more than this his siblings and more than you- his father- was gone and he was never coming back. 

He was no longer enrolled in college anymore and even if he was, he never went to his classes and definitely wouldn't now. He didn't have a job other than his half-assed company he was so hellbent on making. A large part of you felt sorry for him; he was going through a lot and didn't have anyone by his side, but an even larger part of you felt more bad for yourself. You loved him blindly, stuck with him after he took someone's life, stayed with him after he tried to kill his sister twice, stayed with him through his cocaine addiction, stayed with him after the death of his father and after his youngest sister was taken from him. You would have willingly been his home had he not shown you time and time again that he would stray for something else that caught his attention. First it it was the coke, then the gold, then his father's approval and now some random girl. You would have been crazed to even consider staying with him this time and to be frank, it didn't even cross your mind. 

"Is that a threat, Rafe? You gonna kill me like you killed Peterkin?" You asked sharply.

"Nah...you'll just have to wait and see. You're gonna regret ever leaving his driveway." A small, creepy smile spread across his face and it was that damn smile that showed you that you were right to be done with him. He had finally lost it. 

"Yeah, I don't think I will. Nothing you do to me would be worse than staying with you." And with those words you took that one step, the one that would seal your fate as you took those final steps to your sleek car before you pulled yourself in and slammed the door. Through the windshield window, you could see Rafe still standing there with his arms crossed as if he was expecting you to hop out of your car and run to him but he was clearly mistaken as you shifted your car gear and stepped on the gas like your life depended on it and in your defence, you were as you hurtled out of Tannyhill without looking back.

And though it was reckless you pulled out your phone as you slowed down on the gas when you considered yourself a safe distance away from your crazed ex boyfriend. With your phone in your hand, you opened up Sarah's contact and your eyes locked on her earlier messages. The same messages that seemed to blow up your three-year relationship. 

Hey

Sent 4:34 pm

It's Sarah. I changed my number a few weeks ago I'm not sure if you have it or not.

Sent 4:34 pm

I just wanted to let you know that I broke into Tannyhill like an hour ago to get a few of my things and heard a girl in Rafe's room. 

Sent 4:36 pm

It didn't sound like you and if I'm wrong then I'm sorry but I don't think I am. 

Sent 4:37 pm

You changed contact to: Sista from another mista ✨

To: Sista from another mista ✨

Thank you for telling me. It wasn't me. It was some rando Rafe was screwing.

Sent 5:59 pm

Me and your brother are done

Sent 5:59 pm

I am so sorry that I didn't leave him sooner, I was stupid but I'm not anymore. 

Sent 6:00 pm

I love you :/

Sent 6:02 pm

And a few minutes later you were in some fast food restaurant parking lot eating way too much food while slurping down a large milkshake as you accepted that multiple years of your life were wasted when Sarah finally responded. 

From: Sista from another mista✨

Omg Y/N, I'm so so so sorry

Read 6:16 pm

As much as I thought he loved you, he can never put anyone above himself and I'm sorry if you're not in the mood to shit talk him but you deserve better

Read 6:17 pm

You always have and it hurts that you're just realizing it now. 

Read 6:17 pm

No matter what you will always be my sister. I may love you even more now that you had the guts to leave him. 

Read 6:18 pm

To: Sista from another mista✨

It's fine. I was dumb asf, I guess I needed him to screw someone else to realize. 

Read 6:18 pm

Rafe is chaos and I guess I am too. 

Read 6:18 pm

Nothing has to change between you and me. I could even stop by more without Rafe on my ass. 

Read 6:18 pm

From: Sista from another mista✨

Yes!! That's such an upside and don't beat yourself up over it. You are not chaos. Rafe is. At least you left, my mom never did.

Read 6:19 pm

You could feel the hurt through the message. She loved her mom but she had never left her father even though he was a less-than-stellar husband. You had done what her mother didn't. 

I'm ALWAYS here if you need to talk, no judgment. 

Read 6:20 pm

I love you💗 always

Read 6:20 pm

To: Sista from another mista✨

I love you too Sare<3

Hearted 6:21 pm

The next day your life was flipped upside down after you received a call from Yale University to personally notify you that you had been expelled for unlawful drug use after Rafe had anonymously sent a video to your university of you doing coke for the first time two years ago after he had talked you into it and you hadn’t done it since as you didn't like how it made you feel. He even went as far as getting someone to plant a small amount of coke in your car resulting in you getting arrested in a ditch after being pulled over. After that, your father gave you an ultimatum. He speaks to Topper's grandfather who is a respected judge- and gets him to let you off the hook if you go to a rehab centre or you get charged for carrying drugs in your car and get up to a year in prison. And no matter how much you tried to convince him that you didn't do cocaine and that it was only that one time, he didn't even want to hear you out.

And as much as you didn't want to go to rehab, you knew that it was better than prison. 

Though you knew Rafe would want to get revenge on you for breaking it off with him, you never would have expected him to partake in such a deliberate and evil takedown for experiencing the consequences of his selfish actions. It was insane to think that you had spent years of your life with a man who you thought would do anything for you, he had looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars yet he had disrespected you and humiliated you beyond belief for some random girl? You had never seen her before so you could only assume she was a Pogue which you highly doubted from the way he spoke about lower-class people, so that could only mean that she was a tourist. He had thrown your whole relationship away for some girl who was gonna leave a few days later but he felt the need to single-handedly ruin your life for having a problem with it? 

You had kicked yourself every day you spent in the hellhole that was rehab, the doctors looked down upon you like you were the bane of their existence, it was exhausting constantly being judged for being an addict when you weren't even one, to begin with. Hell, the place made you want to do drugs. You couldn't quite understand why a place that was supposed to help you overcome addiction would do so little good with the amount of money that goes into funding them. 

Your stay at the rehab centre was only two months but it took you seven months to return to OBX as you were sent to go live with your aunt, Mae, in New York. And in those five months, you stewed as you put a plan into action to wreak havoc upon the man who ruined your life.

Now, eight months after the fall of the most talked about couple on the island- you were sitting in the country club sipping a pina colada that a pretty bartender made while wearing a beautiful floral dress. 

The booming sound of your ex-boyfriend's laugh brought you out of your head as you slowly turned your neck to look over at the approaching man, and thankfully he was by the other side of the bar which caused a smile to curl up your lips slightly as your plan seemed to set into motion, however- your smile dropped as he leaned down to kiss the pretty bartender who made your drink just a few minutes prior shocking you to your core. 

You had heard from Sarah that Rafe was dating some poor girl from the cut but you hadn't expected it to be the girl you had just made small talk with a few minutes ago, and you certainly hadn't expected her to be...her.

From your conversation, you could tell that she was a very sweet girl who was just trying to change the financial situation that she had been born into and you admired that deeply. In said conversation, you had learned that she was twenty-two making you two the same age and that she was born in Mexico City but moved to the cut when she was very young. 

You also couldn't ignore the fact that she was beautiful and if you were going to be serious, you were pretty jealous and not because Rafe had moved on- but because he was dating one of the most beautiful girls you had ever seen while you were tucked away in a facility or stuck in the presence of your annoying cousins.

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you listen to their conversation.

"Hey, baby." He used to call me that. "I missed you this morning." So their sleeping over? You picked apart every word of their conversation, you couldn't even help yourself.

"I know," she laughed, "I'm sorry, again. I had to cover Gaby's shift."

"Yeah, yeah whatever you say." He laughed causing her to grin before she slapped his chest. "I gotta go, Toppers waiting. I just wanted to say hi and put our drinks in. I'll take-" He began to list what he wanted before the shorter girl shook her head as if she had already memorized his order, and she had.

"I know... Topper want the usual?" She asked as she began to tap on the device behind the bar to type in his drink order.

"Yeah, thanks." She nods in response, her eyes fixated on the task at hand. "Love you." He smiles as he backs away, his eyes still focused on his girlfriend. 

He used to say that to me all the time, you thought. 

Those words grab her attention as she looks up with a smile so wide you guessed that it hurt but it suited her quite nicely. "Love you." After that; he turned away and headed to his table and Sofia turned back to the monitor in front of her. Then, as if she sensed your eyes on her she pulled hers away from the screen and looked over at you. She smiled at you and if it wasn't so sweet you would have guessed that she was rubbing it in your face. 

"Would you like another?" She asked as she pointed to your nearly empty drink, you nodded gently and she turned around to work on your drink, deciding that her boyfriends and his best friends could wait. 

A wide smile fills the space of the small one that had covered your face just a minute ago as you mentally changed your whole plan of taking Rafe down for a crime he didn't commit after deciding that you had a better one in mind. One that he wouldn't never see coming and it all involved your ex-boyfriend's new girl and man- it was going to feel good.

[tanoraqui]

now that this fic is all published, I can ramble about the things that happen afterward in the timeline! Feel SO free to ask about anything you want more details of.

First off, all three posts about Dave the Balrog are 100% canon to this au, except for where they sometimes contradict the fic's worldbuilding or plot bc I hadn't settled on every detail yet. Also, Dave’s name is probably more like “Drav”, from the Sindarin “drava-”, “to hew.”

That happens much later, though - about 1980 TA. FIRST, immediately, as Celebrimbor says: it's time to save the orcs!

That is, wildly self-indulgent crossover with @ceescedasticity's fic(verse) elves, once, which isn't 100% my headcanon for orcs but it's essentially canon for this au because it makes everything VERY FUNNY in a tragic irony way. I've thought about this so much that it really deserves its own bullet-point post, but highlights include:

- Annatar attempts to conceal the fact that Curufin and Celegorm are orcs, and, y'know, have been since they died. This works until Celebrimbor identifies a bunch of the orc army's weapons as made by his father, even if the style is strange and fell, and the two of the have a HUGE fight in front of representatives of every Elvish kingdom in Middle Earth and most of an army of orcs.

- Bellow/Turgon is having the single strangest, most uncomfortable road trip of his life, and he counts the crossing of the Helcaraxë in that total.

- Turgon tries to convince Galadriel to take Celebrían and Elrond and get out of here, because inevitably this must be a cruel trick and all the orcs will be forced to turn on all the Elves. Galadriel is like, "Honestly, I've been watching Celebrimbor's slow corruption and Sauron's slower un-corruption for about 2,000 years now, and I think we actually have a shot at this. Also, bold of you to assume you can beat me in a fight."

- Curufin and Celegorm had BOOKED IT when Annatar's summoning-compulsion snapped, on the reasonable assumption that any plan the Dark Lord had for them + Celebrimbor could only be cruel to the extreme...so Celebrimbor and Annatar go on a bonus road trip to retrieve them.

- Everyone meets up by the Sea again, but instead of taking (or, obeying) the offer of escape into Ulmo's hands, Turgon and probably a bunch of other orcs volunteer to come help break the Crucible. They Deserve This.

- In the end, as usual, the day is ultimately saved - as are the souls of thousands of trapped elves - by the power of love and overwhelming violence.

AND THEN...

Celebrimbor & Annatar don't actually rebuild Ost-in-Edhil and Eregion as they were. Those days are over, and also the surviving Númenoreans kinda...regard Annatar as Absolute Evil, for some mysterious reason. And those who knew about the whole or even partial conspiracy - namely Tar-Miriel herself - aren't too keen on Celebrimbor, either.

They leave whoever wants to stay and rebuild in Eregion, leadership tbd based on the traditional system of craft-based meritocracy, and take a few decades off to lay low from geopolitics, work on their marriage, and for Celebrimbor to learn a little bit of necromancy so he can manipulate his own fëa and hröa, thank you very much.

They stay with the Witch-Queen of Calador for a while, discreetly because officially that kingdom is also not on good terms with its “former” evil-ish overlord. (The Witch-Queen of Calador and her not really sane, almost certainly unsafe, but arguably consensual relationship with Annatar really deserves her own post, too. She’s my favorite OC of this au. She really loves bats.)

Elrond & Celebrían get married! Elrond always knew his wedding would have to involve stopping drunken brawls from erupting between people who love him but hate each other, but he’d assumed it’d be Iathrim and Fëanorians, not an elderly Queen Miriel going for Annatar’s eyes with a butter knife.

Annatar regards the birth of Elrohir and Elladan with some concern, this alarming lineage now augmented by the blood of Arafinwë (cut off Melkor’s foot) and Galadriel (Melian’s pupil, hates him). But that’s nothing to how freaked out he is by Arwen, who is such an obvious Reprise of Lúthien that it’s now CLEAR that this was all a Melian scheme to assault him, personally.

He can’t just kill her now—Elrond and Galadriel and both right here, not to mention Celebrimbor. And then she’d absolutely be his enemy when she Returned… No, the only solution is to stay in Imladris for a while and become her most beloved uncle whom she would not dream of assaulting, whom she could not bring herself to injure even if circumstance and conscience forced her hand. Love has ever been the undoing of Melian’s line. The Reprise is obvious, but not so established that he cannot twist it into irony, Lúthien’s heir as his devoted student and companion rather than foe.

[smash cut to late 3rd Age Annatar watching the Music settle into place as Arwen interacts with the newest, currently toddling scion of the House of Elendil and nearly killing the child right then because no, no, thats not how this was supposed to Reprise—that’s his jewel of an elf-queen, Singer and trade-manipulator and niece, and he’s going to lose her forever? Killing the brat won’t even work, that would only make her follow him sooner, one way or another—]

Celebrimbor doesn’t want to build a city (and have his heart broken by the loss of the city) again, but he very much does want to ImproveThe World, and also to Make Things With His Hands. So he and Annatar, and whoever of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain wish to join them, set about… “Traveling” is too loose a term; just because they’re not city-building doesn’t mean anyone here wants to live on the road. They need workshops, forges, and ideally a maia-sized cat tree tall tower from which to survey their domain. They are a highly skilled work crew/technical, artistic & management consultants who change cities every 5-200 years, throughout Middle Earth and perhaps even other continents.

This what Celebrimbor and Annatar do, for most of the rest of their time in Middle Earth. A few of the Mírdain travel with them all the time. Others strike out on their own, or in similar small groups. Others stay in rebuilt Ost-in-Edhil, or Rivendell or the Havens or another Elvish kingdom, and come lend a hand when their particular talents are called for. Everyone who “died” in Númenor and was “resuscitated” by Annatar walked away with a strengthened, basically permanent osanwë connection to the simulated workshop group chat, which they’re aware of, and a location tracker and fëa-stamp saying “PROPERTY OF MAIRON, FUCK AROUND AND YOU WILL FIND OUT” which only an Ainu could detect.

They're the mysterious stranger(s) who accept an offer of hospitality on a stormy night and reward you with a magic ring that blesses your farm with fecundity. They arrive in a city in the middle of a cholera outbreak and inform the local rulers that they're here to overhaul the whole wells & sewers system in exchange for room and board; no, the local rulers do not get a choice in this. One time they do oust an evil ruling dynasty and just kinda take over the kingdom for a few centuries, but then Celebrimbor starts to get paranoid of his own growing attachment so Annatar reluctantly agrees to find and raise some honorable candidate for kingship [gender-neutral]. One of the Mírdain with them says, what about the choice of the people? And then after a lot of discussion, partly in collaboration with their local Men, they write up and seal with Power a Constitution that establishes an oversight body of political, economic, craft and etc. experts to oversee and have veto power over popular elections to kingship from a slate of candidates chosen by the current/soon-to-be previous king, on a strict thirty-year schedule. There, that should stabilize the whole messy business of mortal succession!

Also, 1300 years or so into the Third Age when this version of Gondor hits its equivalent of the Kin-Strife, Annatar takes advantage of its weakness to initiate a plan he's been contemplating for a while, especially while gaining local insight into a variety of nation-states and their management, and returns to Oroduin to forge what may he his last Great Work...a new standard of currency.

It’s called, in the common tongue developing from Adúnaic and Sindarin, the “mira”, pl. “miran”, from Quenya “mírë” (“jewel, precious thing). Where pettier currencies are based in gold or silver or the might of some particular empire, these hold value Because a Great Maia Said So—indeed, Sang So, Sang a new line into the Great Music that these coins would always have a value of…whatever he said so, if he updated a petty lyric or two of their Song. Those who use the coins don’t need to know this; they simply intuit, with coins in hand, what they are worth.

(You can lead even the mightiest empire by the nose if you control the price of grain alone, much less other commodities, or one currency relative to another. Each minute adjustment takes Power, especially to shift the natural balance of multiple interlocking goods…but Annatar is a master of the perfectly placed lever with which to shift the world.)

Maybe at some point the Valar are like, “okay, I think they don’t irrationally hate us anymore, I think this could work” and send a small group of Maiar to openly, humbly approach Annatar and Celebrimbor and ask if they might be apprentices in the craft of…whatever the fuck is happening here. Or maybe something adjacent, because Pallandro and Alatar would really like to fuck off into those excellent looking woods and hunt the remnants of Ungoliant’s spawn, and Radagast actually wandered away 5 minutes ago to talk to a bird. He’s gonna be a while. But Curumo and Olórin are listening politely!

…Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just the Jewelsmiths, slowly becoming folklore, bettering the world (and manipulating wide-scale economics) one stone at a time. (They’d still be the “Jewelsmiths” anyway, even if they included those who, in another universe, were called “The Wise.”)

As stated in the third Dave the Balrog post, they do Sail eventually, several centuries after Arwen’s death. Celebrimbor just gets tired, and Annatar can’t fix it. Ossë spends the whole voyage backstroking next to their ship and sarcastically quoting Annatar back at himself, Years of the Trees insults about being made weak and pathetic by love, until Annatar nearly lunges over the side as a wolf to tear his throat out.

[hydrangeapartridge]

Overindulging (EmmRook short fic)

Summary: Emmrich gets upset because he put on a little weight. Rook is here to reassure him.

The first part is mostly sfw, I signaled the moment we switch to a more heated (E-rated) exchange, please mind it.

Part of my EmmRook post game (so may contain spoilers) short-fics found here on AO3 (or on my blog with the Emmrich x Rook tag).

Rook was absentmindedly getting dressed when a very highpitched, scandalized noise startled her. It wasn’t coming from veyr far away, and she only needed to turn around to find Emmrich staring intently at his midsection, his fingers frozen over the buttons of the waistcoat he was fastening. It was his favourite one, the green one with the golden buttons.

« Darling » He called out to her, distress clear in his voice. He looked up to meet her eyes, sadness mixed with frustration in his warm brown gaze. « It doesn’t fit anymore » He stated, and indeed, Rook could see the first two buttons were fastened but the effort of it was dangerously straining the fabric. As for the last one, it would be impossible to fasten without tearing the lovely piece of clothing and ruining it.

« Well I suppose you’ll have to wear another one » Rook offered with an apologetic smile. She was ever the optimistic one of the two.

Emmrich sighed in defeat, undoing the hardly fastened buttons in a smooth gesture. However right it was, his lover’s proposition, and the implications behind his failure at getting dressed didn’t sit well with the watcher.

« I knew I had gained a little weight, there are always ups and downs in a year. But I’ve owned this waistcoat for decades and it always fit » He complained, pained and irritated. « Now I’ll have to get my entire wardrobe mended and ajusted... »

Rook stepped closer to her lover and placed a tender hand on his elbow to try and pull him out of the spiral of negativity he was losing himself into.

His slight increase in waist circumference wasn’t a surprise, for they had probably overindulged in the last months when it came to food. Emmrich took a sabbatical so they could undertake a journey around Thedas to reconnect with their former companions of the Veilguard, and check on the reconstruction of the cities destroyed by the Blight.

Those long weeks turned months had been a wonderful succession of heartwarming reunions, all of which of course around generous amounts of food and drinks. Rook and Emmrich had been delighted to discuss with their friends while sharing large meals made of the most delicious dishes, whether grilled, or fried, or covered in rich sauces, as well as around tea-times assorted with the softest buttery and flaky pastry. And not to forget the syrupy wines and bittersweet cocktail. Emmrich wasn’t known for his gluttony, but he still really enjoyed a good meal, as well as the cultural enlightment of discovering local dishes. On the way home, he kept reminiscing the taste of the famous llomerryn red sauce from Rivain or the Gnocchi from Antiva.

Pair that with a hectic schedule preventing them from exercising as they usually did, and you got a few more pounds.

It was nothing too serious. Rook herself had gained a little chub around the thighs and waist, but she understood Emmrich’s concerns. He liked to look clean and sharp, and had a strong taste for elegant fashion. All his clothes were also tailor-made and cost a pretty penny, which was an investment he made for the long run. He took very good care of his belongings and she could see why it would upset him to be forced to have them remade.

Rook gently squeezed Emmrich’s elbow. “I’m sure there is no need to come to that yet. A little more exercise and lighter meals should do the trick. You’ll be back in shape in no time”

She tried to reassure him, but Emmrich wasn’t having any of it. He placed a hand over his stomach and squeezed the fat there though the fabric of his expensive white shirt, then clicked his tongue. “I fear it won’t be that simple. Each year staying fit becomes more and more challenging. I’m getting limp and my skin will only keep sagging until I all wrinkled and flaccid. I’ll gradually wilt before your very eyes darling, this is only the start”

Oh.

So that’s what this was about.

Emmrich had partially made peace with his mortality when he brought back Manfred, and he had accepted that Rook loved him and wanted to be with him on the long run despite their difference in age. However his fears and insecurities resurfaced from time to time.

Rook’s heart sank in her chest and she pressed herself against her lover, circling her amrs around his waist, hoping her presence would comfort him better than words would. From experience, she kew that when he was in this state, there was no reasoning with him; no appealing to his usual logic. The last thing she wanted was to get into a fight because of such a trivial problem. Well, trivial to her. They already did fight several times because she brushed off his heartfelt concerns too casually and now she knew better than to lose her temper over this.

Emmrich grew silent, and soon, he hugged Rook back, the palms of his hands pressing against her back.

They stayed in this embrace for a while, Rook listening to his heart while he breathed in the familiar smell of her hair.

“You know I’ll always love you” Rook promised against his chest, and she heard his resulting deep, shaky exhale close to her ear.

“I know darling” He sighed. “It is not my intention to question that… but sometimes it feels surreal” he kissed her temple before he continued. “And sometimes I cannot help but regret that we didn’t meet sooner, or that I wasn’t born later”

Rook looked up to meet his misty gaze, a bittersweet smile on her face. “I understand that sentiment. But I believe things were meant to be this way. I am glad we even got to meet each other. And survived to enjoy the rest”

“Of course, you are absolutely right dearest. I wouldn’t have it any other way” Emmrich caressed her cheek, craddling it in his warm palm. “But the human heart can be weak, and mine is particularly prone to that kind of longing”

Rook nuzzled into his touch “That’s part of why I love you” She stood on her tiptoes, and whispered against his lips “I never hoped to meet such a romantic soul”

She kissed him then, soft and gentle, and he reverently kissed back, both of his hands holding her face like a precious treasure he feared would escape him.

When they pulled back, Rook let the hand that was pressed to his chest travel to his navel. She eyed his reaction carefully, assessing his consent, checking that her touch on the part of him he criticized was still welcomed.

Emmrich didn’t protest, but the attention made him shy, still a bit self conscious, and he distracted himself by replacing a stray lock of hair behind Rook’s ear.

“You are still the most dashing necromancer around you know” Rook said, her usual bright tone returning to her. “And you won’t be alone in your effort. I’ll help. I have a few pounds to lose too”

Emmrich let out an incredulous huff. “Darling there is no need for you to do that. You are simply perfect. Marvelously beautiful as always”

Rook raised an accusing eyebrow and gave him a chastising look which silenced him immediately. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.

Rook splayed her fingers moree firmly over Emmrich’s lower stomach. “You know, I’m thinking of a pleasant way of exercising…” She whispered wickedly as her hand traveled lower. “I’m sure it burns a lot of fat”

She pressed her palm against Emmrich’s crotch and he let out a small breathy moan.

“Darling, we were just getting dressed” He protested, but only for the principle of it, his voice lacking any resolve.

Rook hummed “But since you were dissatisfied with your clothes, I think it’s better if you don’t wear them at all”

And so Emmrich was quickly convinced to indulge in a different kind of pleasure.

E-RATING STARTING HERE

After a few heated kisses, and unbutonning his shirt, Rook swiftly fell to her knees in front of Emmrich. Without hesitation, she untucked his crisp shirt from his flannel pants first. Her hand deliberatelly brushed his clothed growing erection before she set on undoing the buttons of his trousers.

“Darling” Emmrich tried to grab her attention and she hummed in response but didn’t stop. “As much as I enjoy the view and the promise of your attention, I fail to see how this counts as exercising on my part”

Rook gave his still clothed erection a gentle kiss through the fabric of his underwear. “Consider it a warm up” She hummed “And a way to show you how much I adore every part of you”

Emmrich let out a languid sigh. His fingers moved to brush against her cheek, and played with the hair there while she pulled his pants and underwear enough to find the most sensitive part of him. “Whatever pleases you my dear” He breathed in that lower voice that was reserved just for her; just for these moments shared between them in intimacy. He always ended up indulging her.

Rook took him in one hand, and splayed the fingers of the other over Emmrich’s stomach. She started stroking him to full hardness, while reverantly exploring the dip of his waist, and the more recent softeness of his belly, where a trail of dark hair led to his growing desire. She loved to touch him. Emmrich was a generous lover and was always the one to insist on how gorgeous she was and to focus on making sure of her pleasure. She desperately wanted to reciprocate the favour. Besides, she knew from experience that for all his composure and restreint, a teasing from the mouth should rile him up enough that he would then be most enclined to bend her over any avalaible surface and take her most ardently.

Emmrich’s self consciousness over his stomach became the last of his concerns when she stopped stroking him and started leaving opened mouth kisses on the length of him. He gasped and moaned when she proceeded to take him between her sinful lips, caressing the part that she couldn’t fit in yet between a few fingers.

Rook moaned around him when she felt his hand carefully grab the back of her head, holding ontop her hair without pressure to ground himself and help guide her. She increased the pace of her ministrations as Emmrich’s voice joined the lewd wet noises she was making. True to himself, he kept praising her, complimenting her skills, singing praises of her beauty as she worshipped him with her mouth.

This was incredibly pleasant, but not quite what she had in mind. She pulled away to catch her breath, lazily stroking him instead, the glide made easy from her saliva and his excitement. Her other hand cupped his balls, her heel pressing into his perineum until he was left breathless and flustered. She then moved to squeeze his naked bottom, a part of him that she enjoyed very much indeed. The number of times she was distracted by that ass back in the lighthouse she couldn’t count on the fingers of two hands.

Now that she had rendered Emmrich silent but for ragged whimpers, it was her turn to talk.

“My heart, you focus on the front of your body because that is the first thing you see. But know that the sight of your backside would make anyone both jealous and enticed” She murmured before giving his tip a quick suck, earning a strangled “Darling” from him.

She squeezed his bottom again for good mesure, giving it a small swat as if to make her point “I have seen the way people look at it. Makes me want to burn their eyes in their sockets”

“Darling,I’m sure that’s no-” Emmrich tried to say between heavy pants but interrupted himself, completely losing his train of thoughts when Rook took him into her mouth again, as deep as possible.

Rook smiled around him, prood that she rendered him silent. She used her now both free hands to grab at his backside firmly, using her hold as leverage to try and take him even deeper with each bob of her head.

Emmrich’s hand tightened in her hair, and she moaned delightfully in tune to her lover’s half hearted and whimpered pleas for her to slow down. She could tell that Emmrich was using the last threads of his self control not to thrust into her throat at his own rythm. His thighs were clenching, his knees buckling, she could tell he was losing it.

He was close. But this was far from over yet.

After a wicked swirl of her tongue around him, Rook pulled back, earning a distraught whine from her lover.

She barely wipped her mouth before she got up and proceeded to quickly take off her clothes. Emmrich’s gaze followed the reveal of her bare skin with a distinct hunger. For a second she had rendered him lost as what to do with himself. He stood before her, painfully hard and half dressed, panting and flushed. He looked ravishing; and she wouldn’t give him the leisure of regaining the composure she worked so hard to break.

Rook quickly stepped back into his arms, pressing her naked form flush against his body.

“I think you’ve warmed up enough” She said against his lips, her hand caressing his chest where his shirt was opened. He tried to follow after her lips but she pulled away, instead hiking one leg up his hip. Emmrich’s scattered brain had mere seconds to gather what was expected of him before Rook jumped into his arms, wrapping her beautiful legs around his narrow waist. Emmrich caught her of course, his hands coming to support her backside while she anchored her arms behind his neck.

“Now it is your turn to do all the work” Rook teased, but Emmrich complied.

“Gladly” He breathed before he crashed his lips into Rook’s, his usual finesse lost in the turmoil of his desire.

Rook’s shorter and lighter figure was easy to carry for Emmrich, who possessed more muscles than would be expected of a scholar. In his endevour to age as well as possible, he had adopted a healthy lifestyle consisting of a balanced diet and a lot of exercise. The watcher valued physical form as much as a keen intellect. To fight the rebellious undead of the Necropolis, one needed to stay in shape. Also, Rook learned when they met that necromancers from Nevarra enjoyed friendly tornaments of battle magic and took pride in winning them if possible. Emmrich had his pride, and trained so he would easily prevail if a student or colleague dared challenge him.

Rook remembered feeling both surprised and weirdly aroused the first time Emmrich twisted the limbs of a Venatori cultist with a florish of his wrist, and then proceeded to send him flying with a powerful strike of his heavy staff. To think she first considered him a delicate scholar when they met, and even hesitated bringing him to the field. How wrong she had been, and how she then had put that strength to good use.

Rook wasn’t too heavy, but to perform the activities they had fallen into, they needed more stability. While he kept kissing his lover, Emmrich walked to the nearest wall and proceeded to carefully press Rook’s back against it. The support the wall offered allowed him to free one of his hands. He held Rook around the waist with one arm, and while his lips went down to explore the delicious column of her neck, his free hand traced a path from her clavicle to her breast, where he focused his attention. He squeezed and pressed just the way she liked, without forgetting to give attention to her already erected nipple. Rook’s head fell back into the wall as an abandonned moan escaped her lips when his mouth replaced his fingers on her chest. In an impressive exercise of multi-tasking and balance, Emmrich’s hand travelled lower, testing the state of arousal of his lover. She could see the bicep of the arm holding her tensing under the strain of her weight, pulling the fabric of his shirt tight. That sight only could have made her ready for him.

To only Emmrich’s surprise, Rook was soaking wet already. He collected some moisture on his index finger still, and proceeded to pet her clit for good mesure. Rook closed her eyes under his expert ministrations, but she shook her head when he started teasing her folds and her entrance.

“Please my heart, I need you now��

To think she planned on being the patient one today. Emmrich’s lips traveled back to her neck, then cheek, and stopped to kiss and nip at her sensitive ear.

“Who am to deny you when you find yourself in such distress dearest” He purred, low and assertive before he blew on her wet and tender ear, making her gasp and shamelessly grind against his erection.

Rook admired the display of Emmrich’s strength as he repositionned her to align her center with his aching need. She was vulnerable and opened, her legs brought up against the inside of his elbow, her ankles thrown over his shoulders and her weight supported by both the wall and Emmrich’s long fingers grabbing her hip dips, her lower back mostly fitting into his large palms.

He entered her slowly, making sure she was comfortable. The sight was delightfully exciting: Emmrich still half dressed taking her naked form, the muscles of his broad shoulders and of his arms flexing to hold her in place as he penetrated her.

A first tentative thrust and then Emmrich pressed flush against Rook, bending her in half and trapping her against the wall while his cock caressed her insides. She felt impossibly full and deliciously stretched, forced to take him without moving; losing the ability to form a coherent sentence from the raw pleasure of it all.

Rook’s moans were loud and unrestrained as Emmrich took her against the wall, deep and slow. Even when pent up, he still was one to make groundbreaking love and not copulate like animals. He did slip a few times however, thrusting harder as he lost a bit of control the more Rook tightened and gushed around him.

Tears wet her eyelashes from how good it all felt, the sensations heightened by the praises Emmrich’s velvet tongue kept drowning her in. He breathily told her about the marvelous display she offered, akin to a nymph straight from an Orlesian painting; a perfect portrayal of a godess of pleasure and lushness. He fed her poetry as sweet as honey while ravishing her with impossibly accurate assaults of her most sensitive places, reaching impossibly deep in this position.

Rook left herself get lost in the pleasure he offered, and soon, as he told her he would hold her like this forever, make love to her endlessly, she choked on trying to tell him how much she loved him, whimpering instead while clenching down on him like a vice, coming around him in a raw display of bliss, tears of ecstasy rolling down her cheeks.

Gradually, Emmrich slowed down until his hips came to a stop. He reclined a little and pressed a few amourous kisses on Rook’s wet cheeks.

Rook’s chest was still rising and falling rapidly when she regained the ability the think properly. Her previously hazy eyes found Emmrich’s warm brown ones.

“I love you” She whispered in a laboured breath as if it was the most important and fitting conclusion to this exchange.

Emmrich chuckled, amused and proud of himself for rendering Rook almost speechless “I love you too dearest”

He released her trembling legs so she could get them around his waist again. She hugged him tight while he held her by two hands under her backside, gently rocking her until she regained her footing.

After a while, Rook perked up, blinking away the haze in her mind only to realize something. She looked between them, where he was still hard against her. “You didn’t-” She started, looking to Emmrich. “What about you?” She asked, dejected. She wanted this to be about him and it ended up being about her again.

Emmrich’s chuckle was low and pleasing to her ears. “I believe I ought to prolonge the effort for the exercise to truly be efficient on burning calories.” He said, a mysterious smile on his thin lips. “A ratio of three to one should suffice for today don’t you think?”

Rook blinked owlishly. She had no clue what he was talking about.

Emmrich let her think about it, amused by her airheaded state. He took a step back, then turned and walked to their bed where he carefully dropped Rook on her backside on the silken covers.

“What ratio are we talking about?” Rook asked as Emmrich caught her leg by the ankle and brought it to his lips for a tender kiss to her malleolus.

“Orgasms of course darling. One for me after three for you” Emmrich replied like it was the most obvious of things. His assertive brown gaze pinned Rook down, making her feel like a meal on display. “If you’d be kind enough to help me keep on exercising of course” He added lowly, in that tone that made her wet without being touched.

Rook inhaled sharply, feeling herself ready to go again. She couldn’t possibly refuse such an offer.

“Well, I did say I’d help…”

[thoughtfulfiction]

Social Media QB

Author’s note: reposting my old work on this side blog! Let me know if you’d like to read a specific one. Thank you for reading!

The reputation of the Chargers social media team was unmatched. They are known for being funny and up to date on all memes and pop culture references while also showcasing players’ personalities. That alone made you apply and this past year on the job had really been a once in a lifetime experience. Working with Megan and the crew was a daily adventure and you were becoming more and more comfortable calling the guys your friends. It even got to a point where you didn’t even call them by their names anymore.

Quentin was usually just “Q.” JK was always “J’Kaylin”, Derwin was “3” and your favorite nickname was definitely calling Justin “Sunshine.” At first it was a Remember the Titans reference but it became a lifestyle. Everything and everyone revolves around the sun and that’s exactly what it felt like when you were at work. All of the players were important and special but you could just feel the energy in the room shift when Justin was there. It was palpable, it almost took your breath away sometimes.

Off camera he was goofy, funny and had this uncanny ability to make the world stand still for a bit, even just for a few fleeting moments where it felt like you two were the only ones in the room. But then reality would hit and you were reminded that you work for the team and he’d never see you in that way, he was just nice to everyone he encountered. But on camera? It was all fun and games. There was a running joke, mostly based on his real feelings, that Justin hated cameras. He couldn’t stand being the center of attention or having people perceive him so he avoided the social media team altogether when phones were pointed in his direction. 

But sometimes, a rarity, you were able to get him on camera, even if it was just for a split second. The two of you reviewed the questions he was going to be asked before their Hot Ones appearance and there was ALWAYS a discussion, more like subtle begging if you all were going to have him participate in any content.

“We need Justin for this new segment we’re doing, so you’re gonna have to talk to him.” Megan sighs, grabbing her Stanley cup that was sitting on the counter. She’d just finished editing a video where she and her assistant put fart spray on the tiny mic and could still smell the rancid scent until she grabbed some Lysol spray to de-funk the place.

You were going through photos taken during practice earlier that morning and deciding which ones to post and without looking up you asked her, “why do I have to do it?”

Lorren and Allie giggle in the corner, shaking their heads. “You cannot be serious right now y/n,” Lorren gives you a pointed look.

“What?”

“We all know you and Justin have a thing for each other. Even if you won’t admit to us…or yourself. It’s pretty obvious.”

You finally raise your head up from your laptop, staring at them while also wracking your brain trying to figure out when your innocent crush had become so painfully obvious. If the girls knew, then Justin had probably somehow caught on and the thought of that made you want to dig a hole right outside on the practice field and never come out. “Is—am I that easy to read?”

“No one blames you,” Megan runs a loving hand on your shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ve been trying so hard to hide your feelings that you haven’t noticed that he’s doing an even worse job of hiding his massive crush on you.”

The look on your face sends the room into a fit of laughter. “We’re being serious. The way he looks at you and acts around you. Anyone can see he’s into you friend.”

You weren’t convinced, “I need an example.”

“Okay fine,” Lorren stands up to prepare a demonstration. “He wasn’t ready to put the mics on when he was mic’d up until you walked over and helped him get the mic in the perfect spot in his pads. And then he wore the friendship bracelet for six weeks because you handed it to him.”

Allie pipes up to put in her two cents. “And let’s not forget when he had you driving him around the golf tournament and kicked Zion to the curb. There’s no way all of those are just a coincidence.”

“Fine. I’ll go ask him if he’ll shoot the video for us but I’m not going to lose my job because of a meaningless crush on the starting quarterback.”

You waited around for the guys to leave treatment after practice and caught up with him on his way out. “Hey Sunshine, quick question for you.”

His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and he gives you a small tight-lipped smile. “What’s up?”

“I need you to do me a huge favor and be in this tik tok. It’s a short game and it’ll only take like 15 minutes.”

His deadpan face and disappointed dad sigh has you practically begging, saying “please” in your finest sing-song tone.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” You knew he’d crack, he always did. “On one condition. You also have to participate.”

You hold your hand out and he engulfs it with his much larger one. “You’ve got yourself a deal Herbert.”

“Okay the rules of the game are simple,” Megan begins from behind her phone screen before hitting record, “we’re going to give you these Canadian snacks and you’ll rate them on a scale from 1 to 10. One being it’s awful I’ll never touch that again and 10 being a solid snack that you’d eat everyday if given the opportunity.”

You and Justin nod, diving in on everything from the ketchup chips to the toffee. The video didn’t take long as promised and the quarterback went about the rest of his day with no further distractions.

In your office a few days later on the team’s off day, you were contemplating your life. Maybe you should take a step back from him so people don't get the wrong idea. Sure, your coworkers were convinced the crush was mutual but what if he was just being nice? He was always so focused on football and making the most out of every opportunity. Why in the world would he waste time flirting with a social media manager? It just made no sense. Instead of continuing to run a million imaginary scenarios in your mind you packed up your stuff and tried heading out to the parking lot. Even after all this time you still struggled to maneuver all the twists and turns of the building and somehow found yourself walking past the quarterback room. You intended to just keep walking but he was in there alone and called out your name when he saw you.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t think anyone would be in the building today.” His bright eyes staring down at you made your heart feel like it was beating out of your chest. You desperately needed to get it together.

“I came in to finish up a few things but I’m heading out now. What are you doing? I think you’ve watched enough film to last you a couple lifetimes.” That gets a light chuckle out of him and he shakes his head, the two of you knowing that his quest for perfection would never allow him to believe he’s watched enough film. “Thank you for shooting that video the other day. The fans are gonna love it, they’re always begging us to get you on camera.”

“No problem, anything for you.” He clears his throat after whispering the last part, desperately hoping that you didn’t hear it. Even though you definitely did. You should go home for the day and leave him alone in the office so he can get back to work. You should stop staring at his lips that look so soft and just begging to be kissed. He should turn around and get back to the playbook and the computer but here he is, standing still, right in front of you.

You’re just there, waiting for someone to rip the carpet out from under you, to fall on your face, for someone to tell you that this isn’t actually happening. The space between your bodies diminishes significantly, so much so that you can smell the Dr. Squatch Birchwood Breeze radiating off of him. It’s intoxicating and you swallow the fear in your gut and ignore all of the common sense thoughts plaguing your mind, allowing you to feel.

The kiss is tentative at first, he pulls back slightly, whispering if it’s okay to keep going as you feel his breath against your lips. You don’t respond but instead pull him in closer, hearing a satisfied husky moan from him as he allows your tongue access to his. His right palm rests against your cheek until he’s tilting your head up ever so slightly to deepen the embrace and he pulls you in even closer, holding on for dear life while closing and locking the door behind you. It was so much more than he imagined, these feelings that he’d been pushing aside were being confronted and magnified by the second. This innocent crush that you had on him were genuine, real feelings that created a deep ache in your bones, actively being soothed with his hands all over you as the two of you made out like helpless teenagers.

You didn’t think you’d have the strength to tear yourself away from him…until his phone rings. He ignores it the first time but it’s all you can think about by the fifth ring.

“Answer it,” you whisper breathlessly and you can feel him hesitating to pry himself away from you. The heat that was radiating off of his body that you felt being so close to him sends shivers down your spine at the sudden distance. A thousand unspoken apologies are painted on his face as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He keeps the call short and sweet but the look of devastation is clear when he hangs up. “You have to go don’t you?”

He nods. “I’m so sorry. We can—we need to talk about this I know. And I promise we will. I just—I need to take care of this.” He doesn’t want to leave, not like this. Even if he knows you understand. Justin presses a kiss to the side of your head and whispers another “I’m sorry” leaving you in the room to think about what just happened.

You walk around the empty parking lot until you reach your car, letting out a deep sigh at the thought of what the conversation with him is going to look like after this. You need to be mentally prepared for good news, bad news and everything in between.

He is the sun after all. And sometimes when you stand too close, you might get burned. And maybe, just maybe, you’d avoid the burn altogether and bask in the warmth as long as you can.

[yuna542]

[6.]

~Pogues to the Rescue~

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader/Oc

Genre: Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Smut, Angst, Drama, Action

Warnings: Jellyfish-stings, Swearing, Alcohol and drugs

Taglist: Open

Word count: 2,8K

Summary: The Kook princess is back after a year and reignites the war between Pogues and Kooks on Kildare. But she quickly realizes that after this year, nothing is the same as before. Deception, secrets from the past, and dangerous conspiracies sweep across Kildare, leaving her no choice but to work with the Pogues and her personal nemesis to find the truth and maybe even $8 million. A dangerous treasure hunt begins that turns her world upside down.

Note: Hope you like this part. Let’s say I’m pretty devastated and sad about S4…

Soundtrack:

⏯️Play: Ain’t It Fun by Paramore

“Where you're from

You might be the one who's running things

Where you can ring anybody's bell and get what you want

See it's easy to ignore trouble

When you're living in a bubble”

"Put me down!" escaped me irritably as I drummed my palm on his frighteningly firm chest as soon as we reached the stairs.

I could feel his warm skin close against mine and it was messing with my head.

He just snorted and actually let go of me.

"Wait here! And be quiet!"

Already he had disappeared into the house. I settled down on the step, sighing, since I had no choice anyway.

Only a few moments later he came back with a red plastic box with a white cross on it.

He placed it on the cheap plastic table that looked like it had been stolen from a kiosk where they sold those disgusting fries.

When I looked at it closer, I noticed that it probably was.

"Shit," I heard Maybank mutter, and he closed the box again.

"What?"

I looked over my shoulder questioningly, careful not to turn my upper body.

"It's empty. My dad must have used it all up."

He put his hands on his hips and seemed to be trying to figure out what to do with me now.

"Well, we can definitely go ahead and disinfect the wounds."

Suspiciously, I watched him disappear back into the house and return with a large bottle containing a transparent liquid.

Half of the bottle was already empty.

He sat down next to me on the step and unscrewed the cap.

"What's this?"

I grabbed his hand before he could pour the contents onto my leg.

"Vodka. Alcohol."

He looked at me as if I didn't know what that meant.

"I know what vodka is, dickhead, but is this really a good idea?"

I knew alcohol was used to disinfect, but that's about all I knew about medical treatments.

JJ just shrugged.

"It got 70%. You won't find anything better."

"Yeah, I bet."

JJ gave me an annoyed look, but I just raised my eyebrows provocatively. There probably wasn't even a pharmacy here.

After a moment's hesitation, I finally gave in. What could go wrong?

I could not use an inflammation or infection now.

So I let go of his hand and he began to pour the liquid over my leg.

Immediately a burning sensation shot through my leg, making me gasp loudly.

Several curses escaped me as I waited for the probing pain to subside.

"Now the back," JJ said, and I wanted to punch him in the face.

"On three. One. Two..."

I couldn't even take a breath, when he already had poured the alcohol over the wound on my side as well. The pain was even worse there, and because of the shock I couldn't prepare myself internally.

Reflexively, I grabbed his arm and clawed into it so as not to cry out.

Although I dug my nails into his skin, he didn't make a face, but reached for my hand to squeeze it.

When the pain finally subsided, I pulled my hand away and glared angrily at him.

"Asshole!", I hissed and braced myself to get up from the stairs.

"You're welcome," he replied, setting the vodka down on the table.

"This really should be looked at. I can drive you home so that-"

"No!", I interrupted him harshly, fixing him with my gaze.

There was no way I could go home like this. Rick would just ask a lot of questions and if he found out I was surfing, that I was on the Cut and if he saw JJ to top it all, I'd be screwed....

I'd rather not imagine his reaction.

Astonished, the blond tilted his head and crossed his arms.

Fortunately, he didn't ask any more questions, since he didn't seem to care either.

"Then I'll take you with the others. John B has a first aid kit in the Twinkie and Pope knows what to do. I was on my way there anyway."

Vehemently, I shook my head.

„No, absolutely not!"

At that very moment I staggered and would have fallen forward if he hadn't grabbed me by the wrist.

"You have no choice, though," he murmured, holding my wrist tightly. As he did so, his gaze wandered aimlessly through my face and I noticed the dark green circles at the corner of the endless blue of his eyes.

They were really intense and reminded me of the cloudless sky over Kildare.

Everything in me resisted going to the other Pogues.

For one thing, I was embarrassed to ask for help, and for another, I couldn't let myself be seen there.

If anyone found out about this, I would also be screwed. At JJ's look, however, I realized that I really had no choice.

He clearly seemed to enjoy every second of my sorrow.

I needed help and this was my only option.

He realized that I was admitting defeat and at that, the corners of his mouth lifted a bit. It wasn't until he took a few steps back that I noticed how close he had just been to me.

"We're going on my motorcycle."

He tried to support me, but I fought off his hand. I could still walk myself, even if it was hard.

I didn't want him to think I was weak or needed his help.

So he went ahead and grabbed the keys and I tried to follow him.

"Do you think your friends are really going to help me?", I called out as I tried to catch up to him with a limp.

He glanced over his shoulder at me and tossed the key from his left hand to his right.

"They're going to help you! We're not self-serving kook assholes, after all."

I wanted to hurl a counter at him, but I couldn't think of anything to say. His words hit me because it was true. Hardly anyone from Figure Eight would have even been interested in what had happened to me.

Arriving at the motorcycle, he got on and put the key in the ignition.

The engine howled and rattled away contentedly.

JJ offered me his hand, which I accepted this time, to get on.

His fingers closed tightly around mine and when I was finally seated, he wrapped my hands around his body.

"Hold on tight, princess!"

Then he was already driving off and I actually had to clutch him to keep from falling off.

The wind went through my hair and made it dance around my head.

It wasn't until we turned onto the road after the wooded area that I realized I had been clinging to him tensely the whole time.

Gradually I let go and got used to the ride.

I felt his skin under my fingers and the muscles of his stomach under his unbuttoned shirt.

Directly my fingertips tingled and I fought the urge to run over the contour of his abs while my upper body was pressed tightly against his.

I couldn't focus on my surroundings and had lost my bearings after only a few minutes. Instead, I paid attention only to the amazingly toned body and broad shoulders in front of me.

When had this happened? Just a few years ago, JJ had been just a lanky little daredevil.

The smells of conifers, fresh grass, and salt water mingled into a distinctive nuance known only from the Outer Banks.

Slowly, I began to enjoy the time on the bike and forget about the pain. All too soon, the ride ended at a driveway.

The first thing I noticed as soon as we dismounted was the huge tree with countless branches that had a hammock hanging from it.

I had never seen such a special tree. Like a monster, its branches reached for the sky, trying to grab the clouds.

Or I had simply never paid such attention to trees before.

Behind it, John B's house came into view. Like JJ's fishing shack, it was run down, but still in reasonably good shape.

It even looked quite cozy, if not very luxurious.

As we climbed over the much-too-tall lawn and shrubs, I propped myself against JJ's shoulder.

It was uncomfortable, but my leg was already shaking with exertion.

On the patio sat the rest of the Pogues.

I could make out a large campfire area and the Pogues' old boat.

The property had to be really huge.

Besides, it was really beautifully situated.

Further ahead, the shore began and a long boardwalk led out to a small pavilion out on the water.

Ward Cameron would buy it in a heartbeat and put one of his mansions on it.

"There you are at last! What took you so long?", John B's loud voice rang out from the deck and already his head appeared from behind the sofa back.

"What the hell!" he snapped as his gaze fell on me.

Now Kiara and Pope also looked up. While Pope looked surprised and confused, Kiara looked at my face in disgust.

"What is she doing here?"

Kiara was sitting on an armchair with her ukulele on her lap. Pope sat across from her, tinkering with a fishing line. John B had been lying upside down on the sofa and was now completely perplexed.

"She's hurt. I had no choice but to take her. JB, you still have the first aid kit and that ointment, don't you?" explained JJ, helping me up the stairs.

John B frowned and I was eyed suspiciously by everyone, as if I could detonate a bomb at any time. After what they had done to the Camerons today, that concern was justified.

Kiara put her ukulele aside and straightened up.

With one look at my wounds, she immediately realized.

"Every child knows that this time of year the waters are teeming with Portuguese galleys!"

Kiara seemed upset, yet she stood up and looked at my reddened skin. By now, some numbness was spreading, but the pain did not subside.

"I'm really sorry that I don't have the know-how of a simple fisherman," I hissed, annoyed, and propped myself up against the wobbly railing.

Kiara now looked at Pope, who was also slowly approaching, almost frightened, and eyeing me.

"A simple fisherman wouldn't be so stupid, anyway," now came snidely from JJ, who rummaged in his pants pocket.

I glared at him angrily.

"JJ, what did you do?" asked Pope directly, and I realized that the alcohol had indeed probably not been a good idea.

The blond was now sitting on the sofa where John B had just been sitting. The other Pogue was standing behind Pope with his arms crossed, trying not to get in the way of the two.

"I disinfected the wounds," JJ muttered, putting a joint in his mouth. So that's what he'd gotten at his place.

A moment later, the click of his lighter sounded and he lit it.

"Just like a doctor. I saw it in the movie Pope made us watch!"

"Oh please don't!" it escaped Kiara.

"What? We only had vodka there, so I improvised."

Pope buried his face in his hands as Kiara was about to push JJ off the couch.

"Vodka? Are you out of your mind? You might as well have peed on it! Idiot," Kiara hissed, turning to the other two boys.

"Hey, at least I kind of helped. Could have left her there."

He clasped his hands behind his head and seemed pleased with himself as he blew smoke into the air.

Kiara just groaned in annoyance and pointed at Pope.

"You get the ointment and bandages, please! John B, get ice cubes in a cloth and JJ get a bottle of salt water!"

She threw an empty plastic bottle, harder than would have been necessary against his chest and when the boys disappeared without protest, I had to admit that I admired Kiara for her assertiveness.

I guess she was a kook deep inside after all.

"Come on! Sit down!" she urged me, so I did as she said, since she obviously had common knowledge about jellyfish stings.

Tentatively, I settled down on the sofa and watched as she sat down next to me.

"I don't see any more nettles.... That's good."

"Oh yeah?", I returned sarcastically, whereupon I got a threatening look.

"Don't think I'm helping you because I want to. I just want you to leave as soon as possible."

"Believe me, that's my fondest wish too."

At that moment, JJ came back and threw the water bottle to Kiara. Skillfully, she caught it and unscrewed the lid.

Without a word of warning, she poured the water down my side and then over my calf.

Instantly it burned again and I tried to breathe away the pain.

"You can thank JJ for that. Vodka... Really."

She still couldn't seem to believe that JJ had done that.

In fact, the stinging was starting to subside.

Now the other two returned as well.

Kiara handed me the cloth with the ice, which I eyed in disgust. It looked as if it had last been washed a decade ago.

"Press this on the wounds and the pain should go away completely!"

Tentatively, I did as she said and sure enough, the cold on my skin was liberating. First I pressed the ice underneath to my shoulder blade until the stinging disappeared and only the numbness remained.

Then I put my leg up and placed the cloth on my calf.

In the meantime, Kiara unwrapped the bandage stuff and took the ointment.

"This stuff will make the wounds heal quickly and not leave any scars," Pope explained calmly, leaning against the wall of the house next to John B.

„It's from my mom. Her ointments work like magic..."

„Great", I mumbled sarcastically. Pope immediately looked down on the floor, remembering who I was.

Kiara was now sitting behind me and I winced when I felt her cool fingers on my skin. She carefully probed the skin on my back and I felt like I was on display.

"Watch it," was the only thing she said before she pulled the strap of my bikini open with a flick of her wrist.

Panicked, I held the fabric pressed against my body before it would have fallen off.

Pope swallowed in a panic and turned to face the wall, John B had eyes as big as plates and it took endless seconds before he cleared his throat and averted his eyes as well.

JJ, on the other hand, was looking at me with that amused grin that made me go furious.

Along the way, Kiara spread the ointment on my back.

"The bikini was in the way. I'll bandage this now so the ointment can soak in," she muttered, taking the bandage off the table.

JJ made no effort to avert his eyes and seemed to be enjoying the show. He took a drag on the joint and looked challengingly into my eyes.

"That's very true, Kie! You should really get rid of the bikini completely," he said provocatively and obviously stared at my breasts, hoping to see something more.

Immediately, heat shot up my cheeks. John B cleared his throat loudly again and disappeared into the house with Pope.

It felt like an escape.

"Shut up! If you're not going to make yourself useful, get out of here and start a fire!", Kiara beat me to it and threw the empty water bottle at him again, which he caught this time.

He stood bolt upright and saluted.

"At your command, Captain!" he shouted and winked at me.

By now a huge knot had formed in my stomach, which wouldn't let me throw anything at him in return.

Already he was skipping down the stairs and sauntering down to the fireplace with the joint between his lips.

"He's always like that. Don't worry about it. Every girl he sees, he hits on. You're nothing special."

Kiara fastened the bandage around my body and tied my bikini back on. Even though her voice sounded cool, she no longer seemed so dismissive.

"I noticed that already. Thank you"

Then she began to tend to my leg.

"You really don't seem to like each other?" she said, smirking.

Directly, I shook my head.

"No... He's so incredibly rude and annoying."

"Yes that's true," she agreed, fastening the bandage.

"But still, he brought you here."

I didn't know the answer to that. After all, he just wanted to get rid of me again quickly, right?

⬇️

© Yuna542 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[yingandzhan]

Hello yingandzhan 😊👋! Hope you're having a good day! I wanted to confirm something with you. I have seen people saying that Lan Wangji wore mourning robes before, but is this true according to the novel? I kind of thought it was just his clan uniform. I'm not really sure, but the only thing I could find in the book concerning this was that Wei Wuxian "thought" the Lan clan uniform looked like funeral clothes. I'm not really sure about it, so I thought about asking you 🤔.

Hello dephoraowo 😊

Looks like Tumblr has decided to start alerting me whenever I receive an ask now!

I am having a wonderful day, thank you. I hope you are as well.

Well, white is of course a traditional colour associated with funerals and mourning in China, so anyone wearing this colour would naturally conjure up such images. But the whole Lan Clan wear these robes, not just LWJ.

And as you said, WWX admittedly associates this with the clan's robes as well. Which is funny because we also see him thinking more poetically about LWJ in those very same robes as well...

In fact, WWX himself picks white robes to wear to JLs Man Yue (满月 - full moon) celebrations! This is most likely because the colour white is also associated with purity and innocence. He wanted to give off a good impression when seeing his beloved shijie and her new baby son! Hoping to show everyone he's not the evil overlord the rumours falsely accuse him of being! Which is heartbreaking, considering what happens while he's merrily making his way there in these very robes.

Anyway, I digress!

I think this has probably derived from the CQL and theories concerning the way they had LWJ dressed in some episodes. I couldn't really comment on that though as it has been quite a few years since I watched the live action and the costumes, as beautiful as they are, aren't particularly historically, or indeed canonically, accurate either way to be honest.

So no, LWJ didn't change his attire because WWX died. Unlike what many in the fandom claim, he mourned his loss; got drunk, branded himself with the same Wen emblem and then picked himself back up to live on. Yes, he was obviously heartbroken, but he threw himself into raising the boy WWX had died to save and continued to honour his memory by telling LSZ silly stories about the real WWX and instilling the next generation with their shared morals.

What a man!

[cakepoppresent]

Let Me Beat His Ass

A few things

Lol poor Daisuke his future wife is going through it and hasn't been returning his texts or calls

Malcolm truly is a big baby. Since Malcolm has been told "no" by Luna he doesn't know how to react. He's taking her wanting to see Andre as a personal attack against him rather than his sister just wanting to find out the truth.

Love Veronica and Luna, in an alt time they would have been GREAT

Transcript under the cut ~

Luna: She’s looking into it, she trying to find this “source”, Chantel isn’t saying who told her

The comments under the pic (it's much smaller on a phone than a computer)

@toucanman - I fucking knew it a rich girl like her would never actually be nice, she was just hiding her bitch ass attitude

@coochielicker - This isn’t the Luna I stan! All SMZ does is lie lie and LIE. Shes been acting for years and its only now shes a diva? Stop playing with my good sis!

@flo- Hmmm...I can see it tho, shes from a super wealthy family its probably her way or no way but who cares was anyone even hurt?

@fruitysims - LOL ive been waiting on something to come out on this hoe. Her nice girl shtick was so overbearing now her true colors are coming out. Thank god

----------------------

Veronica: What did Destiny say? Is she gonna do anything about this?

Veronica: You should send her bitch ass a lawyers letter or something. Can’t be legal to spread malaious rumors like that

Luna: I dunno. I’d rather find this source

Veronica: Where the hell is that man of yours? He must have connections he can use

Luna: Probably... he’s been calling but I don’t even have the time to deal with him right now. Malcolm that bitch still won’t talk to me and now Andre’s face is all over the news and my bitch Dad hasn't even called. It's...a lot right now

Veronica: Let’s travel then, How about Tomarang or Tartosa? Just until everything dies down and you figure out what to do next

Luna: No...I don’t want to leave Andre to deal with this alone and Malcolm is gonna crash out once he sees this online...I can’t leave right now

Veronica: Get off your phone babes. Reading all these comments is going to make you feel worse.

Luna: This is fucking awful and I miss Malcolm, can’t believe his ass won’t talk to me. Benji gives me updates but I’d like to meet Andre with Malcolm.

Veronica: Malcolm is the biggest fucking baby you gotta force him to see reason. If you don’t he’s just gonna pout and mop all day. Let me talk to him

Luna: What are you gonna do? Beat him up?

Veronica: Yes? Beat him up verbally at least. You’re hurting and he needs to get over himself, I'll help him see reason

Luna: He really does listen to you. Don’t be too harsh on him

Veronica: Hush. It's important you guys deal with this Andre thing. Malcolm needs to at least hear him out and stop punishing you for wanting to talk to Andre

Luna: Hahaha Malcolm has always been so sensitive, I wonder where he gets his bitch ass attitude from

Luna: V... it's been hell these past few days. It means a lot that you’re here with me now

Veronica: Babe. You’re basically my sister and I love you. Whatever is happening now will pass I know it will.

Luna: Feels like it's never going to end everything is going to fucking shit. I’ve never fought with Malcolm like this and Benji doesn’t know what to do he hates being in the middle of all this

Veronica: Sleep it off. I can’t help with what's going on online but I can and I WILL speak with Malcolm okay?

Luna: Okay...

Veronica: No more tears babe. I’ll beat his ass up if I have to. Just wait for my call okay?

Veronica: Love you too babes

Luna: Love you V